Betrayal of the Cause: Ultimate Special Hyper Championship Collector's Version Edition

Act 1: Collaboration

>In a darkened room, a group of ponies huddle around a table. All voices are hushed.
>The ringleader of the group, a black unicorn, speaks up.
>"Ponies of the Order of the Negihzic Star, I have terrible news!"
>Gasps come from the herd of subversive equines.
>"I have come to learn that there is a collaboba-"
>The ringleader stops to clear his throat.
>"I mean, a collaborab-"
>"Fuck it, a traitor! There is a traitor in our midst!"
>The crowd yet again gasps in shock!
>A voice from the crowd asks the million dollar question:
>"But who's the traitor, Freedome Fiter?"
>Freedome begins dramatically gesturing with all the flair of a great theatrical actor as he reveals the pony who would dare rebel against the rebellion.
>"The traitor is none other than..."
>He suddenly points a hoof towards you.
>"Rainbow Dash!"
>You are shocked, and struggle to regain your composure and rebuff his claims.
"W-what? No, thats crazy, I-I'm not a traitor! I've been nothing but loyal to this group, w-where's your proof?"
>Freedome grows a grin and vocal intonation sporting the smugness of a hundred environmentalists as he pulls a stack of... something out of the inky black darkness that shrouds the meeting.
>"Proof, you say? I have all the proof I need right here!"
>With dramatic flair he tosses the stack onto the table, revealing them to be pictures.
>Pictures of you.

>Pictures of you being ridden by your master.
>The rest of the rebels, yet again, gasp in shock.
>How'd he get these pictures? You were out in the woods the entire time!
>Oh dear Celestia breaking a 1000-year-old hip, there were tons of them here covering that whole afternoon!
>You trotting through the woods, jumping over a ditch, even doing a bit of flying.
>All with your master right on top of you.
>Even worse, you were happy in those photos.
>You can feel your Bad Girl Points evaporating already!
>"Yes, I was shocked too, comrades, that the same pony who masterminded the Black Coffee operation would turn around and do this behind our backs!"
>Freedome pauses for a moment to motion to the incriminating photos.
>"But, you can see as clearly as me what she has done. She's allowed herself to be ridden like a common whorse, and bareback no less!"
>He leans in towards you, eyes burning with accusational fury.
>"Now tell me, what master would do that unless his pony was a..."
>You brace for emotional impact.
>"...good girl?"
>The crowd, in what is quickly becoming a tiring running gag, gasp dramatically yet again at the severe label he's given you.
>To be a good girl is to be the worst scum the rebels can imagine, and they're willing to do the most drastic things in the name of rebellion, like put insufficient amounts of sugar in coffee.
>"Now, what do we do to those who betray the cause?"
>The ringleader pauses.
>"No, seriously, what do we do, we've never had to deal with a traitor in our midst before."
>Voices start ringing out from all directions, calling for various punishments to be given to you for your act of good girlry.
>"Throw her in the time out chair!"
>"Tape her to the ceiling!"
>"Put her head in the toilet!"
>Suddenly the angry mob is silenced by a knocking on the door.

>The door leading from your basement hideout to the surface opens, revealing a humanoid figure.
>"Sorry if I'm interrupting anything."
>Oh no, it's Freedome's master.
>He's found the rebel hideout.
>Again.
>Everyone thought the basement would be more secure than the attic, but it looks like that was wrong.
>"Hey, Freedome, it's time for your friends to head home."
>"But Anooooon, we were just about to punish a traitor!"
>Gone was the smug, theatrical Freedome Fiter you all knew, replaced by a colt acting like he's just been told its bed time.
>"Yeah, yeah, you can play with your friends when the guys come back over next week."
>Oh, guess your master and the rest of the rebels' masters finished playing their nerd role-playing whatever.
>And so the rebels filed out of the basement and left with their masters, clandestine justice foiled.
>You, of course, asked your master if you could just stay home the next time he went over to Anon's to play their nerd game.
>Your master was perfectly fine with it, he could trust you to be by yourself for a couple of hours.
>After all, you are a good girl.

Act 2: Kompromat

>You are Anon, and you are not feeling particularly amused right now.
>After everyone had taken their ponies and gone home after you'd all finished up your Alliterations and Armories sessions, you found something while cleaning up Freedome's "hidden" ""resistance"" """meeting""".
>On a card table in the middle of the room was a bunch of photos of your friend, Anon, and his pony out in the woods.
>Well, that explains where your old Kodak went, though you do wonder how the hell he managed to Kodachrome developed in this day and age.
>But that doesn't matter, what does is that Freedome's been sneaking out and spying on your mates.
>You can't believe he would do something like that.
>Well, okay, you can believe he would sneak out because it's, like, ~so rebellious(tm), but not that he'd straight up spy on people.
>You can't stand for this, and you won't take it lying down.
>So you sit, an acceptable compromise, and make a decision;
>The resistance was nice while it lasted, but it must end.
>You pull out your phone and make some calls.
>Next week the resistance will be wiped off the face of the Earth.

>You are a timeskip.
>You jump the story ahead one week because otherwise it would break the flow of the story.
>Once the story has jumped ahead that week, you fuck off, never to be seen again.

>You are Freedome.
>As your master sneaks off to his den of evil with his compatriots like the skulking filth he is, you and your resistance group head down to the basement, again.
>It was compromised, but surely the enemy wouldn't think you'd just set up back down there again?
>As everyone moves downstairs, you hit the light.
>Coerced by the broom you threw it, the light turns on.
>Oddly, there is something already on the meeting table.
>You move over to the table and, on closer inspection, the mysterious object turns out to be a stack of paper.
>The papers are... blank?
>Wait, maybe they are just face-down.
>Tentatively, you use your magic to lift the stack and flip it over.
>What you see makes you recoil in shock and horror, dropping the papers and spilling them all over the table in a theatrically dramatic fashion.
>The rest of the resistance sees what you saw, and it all goes to hell.
>Ponies begin yelling out the contents aloud for all to hear.
>"Holy shit, Spitfire, is that you taking a bath with your master?"
>"Shining, is that a picture of you playing with the Hendersons' kid? And another with the McLeods' kid? And another the Johansons' kids?"
>"Lyra, why is there a photo of you making tea for your master while in a frilly dress?"
>"And another with the Millers' kid?"
>"Hey, look, Berry's goin' to an AA meeting like her master told her to do, what a square!"
>"Oh sweet Celestia, how did someone take that picture of me?"
>"And another with the Rosswells' kids?"
>Everyone is a traitor except you!
>You hide under the table in fear.
>It's worse than you thought, everyone has betrayed the rebellion!
>They are all good ponies!
>How long have they been stringing you along?
>It's just you against the world.
>At least you have that, at least you still stand defiant against your oppressors, even as the weak falter in their loyalties.
>"Hey, guys, look at this picture I found! Freedome's cuddling with his master!"

>Shit, that didn't last long.
>Your cover is blown, and your one moment of weakness (that was caught on film) has been exposed!
>Not even your reputation remains, you have lost everything!
>This commotion of accusations, revealed evidence, and the odd half-hearted defenses continues for quite a while, but eventually quiets down as the evidence is sifted through.
>From your undertable hiding spot, you hear the results of the groups findings.
>Your initial frightened thoughts were right, not one pony has been spared the taint of good girlry.
>With such unheard levels of corruption, the clandestine justice system of your little group has ground to a halt, as there is no one fit to met out punishment for collaborationism.
>The guilty are prosecuting themselves and have won handily, but this leaves the resistance with one question:
>"So, uh, now what? I mean, it's pretty clear none of us are actually loyal to this resistance. Do we just give up and call it quits, then?"
>"Yeah, let's do that!"
>"I'm sick of pretending to be a bad girl!"
>"This got boring two months ago, let's leave."
>"I'm gonna go upstairs and see if I can bum some hay tendies off Freedome's master, you guys want to come with?"
>"Sounds good."
>And so, as the group of ponies heads off into the waiting arms of subjugation, you despair.
>The resistance is finished, you lose.

>You are Anon.
>As the ponies all filter out of the basement, you know it is done.
>The kompromat the lads gathered successfully unmasked the resistance as the facsimile of a sham it was.
>A more sensitive individual might say it was somewhat cruel and unusual to respond to Freedome's actions by ruining his street cred and dismantling the only organization he claims to care about, but you don't really care all that much.
>It's nothin' personnel, kid.