Planet: Sera
Location: Unknown forests, distance from COG installation
Destination: Inside installation
Date: Heat 8th, 16 A.E.

Martin P.O.V.

Down, the Monkey and I descent on an old road path. A slopey, unstable, stoney, dirt road. From the looks of it, it haven’t seen usage in years. Forgotten either before Emergence Day, when it happened or sometime afterward. Now mother nature seeks to reclaims what was once hers. As weeds, wildflowers and other shit grows over the path, mending it to the rest of the natural environment. Covering up any traces that we were ever here.

‘Sixteen years’

From the top of the hill, the path looks easy to trek through. But going downwards is another thing.

‘Sixteen years’

As nature grows over old road, obscuring our view of it.

‘Sixteen years’

Yet remnant of the old road still exist.

‘Sixteen years’

Random patches of dirt here and there.

‘Sixteen years, remember’

Rotten wooden post scatter randomly around, giving us a small glimpse of the former road. It isn’t really that hard to figure out where to go and not trip over a stupid rock. Like a fucking retard. It just annoying and tedious.

‘Sixteen years...Martin’

Just like a headache.

‘Sixteen years, you can’t forget’

A really fucking annoying headache.

‘Sixteen, sixteen, sixteen-’

God there’s never enough alcohol in the world to make it go away.

‘years’

“Fuck.”

“You say something?” Asks the Monkey.

‘Martin’

“No.”

I need a drink.

‘You can’t forget’

I need a stiff drink.

‘Sixteen years, YOU can’t forget’

A really stiff drink.

‘You can’t forg-’

“Martin.”

“Huh?” I said, breaking from near stupor state.

“You aight?” The Monkey ask all concerns and shit.

“Peachy.” I replied.

“Good, you kinda blank out there for a sec.” He turns to look at me. “You sure?”

“Yeah, tired.” I said.

“So- ‘rry Martin, it's nothing personal.’”

“Huh?” I said, unsure of what I heard.

“I ask, ‘So Martin how long ‘til we reach the building?’” The Monkey repeat his question with a slight humorous tone.

Dammit. Must be more exhausted than what I originally thought.

‘You can’t fo-’

“About an four to six klicks.” I answered ignoring the Monkey awful attempt at humor.

“What?” The Monkey stop, almost tripping himself over some grass.

Dumbass.

“I said four to six klicks.”

“Wha-HOW?” Exclaim the Monkey hesitant to accept what I said.

Taking a breath of air to rejuvenate my mind. I take a second to ponder on the Monkey question, from the initial view from atop the hill, the trek didn’t like it would be more than a klick or two. Maybe even three klicks if I fucked up. But as we descent, everything seems, no feels longer than it should? It’s insignificant at first that no one would take notice, but the more we walk, the more I begin to notice things. The trees, grass, the rocks, hell even the dirt looks stretch, even if it’s only a small margin. It’s as of we move an inch, twenty more takes it place. It strange. I know.

Glancing over to the Monkey, he still looks the same, if only slightly agitated. Nothing seems out of place, yet I can’t shake of this feeling.

‘...don’t...’

Must be my craptastic mind playing tricks. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a shit mind of mine.

‘...forget...’

But why do I feel like I’m lying to myself? To feel safe…? Everything feels wrong. My body is screaming at me, against some unknown force.

‘...US...’

It feels wrong.

‘...please…’

I feel wrong?

“So?” The impatient asshat asks.

“We’re fucked.” I said, disregarding the feeling. Even as everything in my body scream at me not to.

“Explain?” Curiously, the Monkey tilt his head to the left.

“We’ll never make it in time.” I stated plain and simple.

Panic begins to spread across his face. “But earlier you said it couldn’t be further than two kilicks,” he prattles, “and that we have about thirty minutes until the storm hits.”

“Correct.”

“Then why aren’t we running?”

A good question to ask.

“To conserve energy.” I half heartedly replied.

“Bullshit,” he states. “You just said, it now ‘four to six kilicks.’”

“True,” I said. “But we wouldn’t make in time.”

“Why?”

Not wanting to hear his constant bitching, I give a half-ass excuse.

“Because even if we ran at our fastest speed, we would only run about three or four klicks. Nowhere near enough to outrun the storm before it hits.”

“Bu-”

Cutting him off, “Before you say anything else, here’s a list as to why we’ll died from our current state before the storm.” Burning off what minuscule fumes of energy I still retain, I list off my reason, “First off, shut the fuck up. Second, neither of us has had any proper rest in weeks. Third, the last time we eat anything that wasn’t dirt, air and/or shit was ten days ago. Hell we’ve been drinking our own piss for about the past six days. Excluding my special water. And to top it all off, we’re all carrying easily around one hundred to one hundred and fifty pounds of none essentials.” I firmly state. “We’ll never make it.”

“Then why not drop your satc-”

“We both know the answer to that.”

He grumbles away in frustration to my response. Knowing that The Man Purse is very important to our survival...even if it weighs the same as a goddamn Centaur.

“Then what the fuck do we do?” He looks towards me like I have the fucking answer to the literal shitstorm we’re walking into.

“Best bet is hope that there’s a cave or something at the bottom large enough for the both of us.”

He stares inquisitively at me for a moment, before the realization of what I said hit him.

“What about the others?”

“Fuck them.”

“Goddamnit, Martin!”

I continue downwards.

“You’re an ass!” He shouts.

“I know.”

“Guys, we go-”

Leaving, the Monkey to contact the others. I continuing towards the bottom of this hill, in a vain attempt of finding shelter or something to outlast the storm.

So then why do I feel so weird...? I know for certain that it not guilt or regret. Murder those little shitstain dead years ago with a rusty spork and an severed arm. But why is this weird sensation hitting me hard. It feels as if I’m being stomp on by a conga-line of Brumak. Only then to randomly get gangbang by a swarm of Berserkers. It not a right feeling. So why do I. . .wrong?

Why-can’t I feel the ground?

Looking down on instinctively, I notice the distinct lack of ground under me. I step over a ledge.

“SHIT!”

“Martin!”

Is all I hear before everything flashes.

Planet: Phylum Gaia
Location: On board the Friendship Express
Destination: Baltimare Train Station
Date: June 8, C.R. 1006

The Friendship Express, one of Equestria most prevalent and advance technological wonder to date. The fastest in land transportation, this wonder of technology is capable of reaching a max speed of 60 mph. Able to outrun any pony on hooves, a true marvel to behold. The train has several variations; one design to carry passengers, another meant to carry heavy cargo and goods, one for military usage and lastly one, though rarely known, one meant for the princesses of Equestria. Such an extraordinary and grand piece of technology only used by the common ponies of Equestria. It truly is breathtaking.

But to the student of Ms. Cheerilee class, this wonder was nothing more than a mobile box prison. Without much to do other than sit down, look out the window and just patiently wait. Which we all know is impossible for any child, the students found ways to entertain themselves. So just as children would do, they annoying everyone around them. Sure some were content by playing with their toys, reading or playing some board games. There was only so much they could do, before pure boredom settle in. They all eventually began to annoy the rest of the passengers and the working staff. Leading Ms. Cheerilee to profusely apologizes for her students behavior as she tries to get control of her students.

Away from the rest of Cheerilee class and the commotion they were doing, were four particular fillies minding their own business. The first filly known as Sweetie Belle, was content with reading her book from before, tales and myths about an ancient and long forgotten species. Ignoring the antic of her two other friends. The second filly known as Scootaloo, was talking with her friend, Applebloom. They were talking about colts and how to get their attention. The third filly as mention, Applebloom, was also thinking of a way to attract some of the colts in her class or those at the beach. Though her plan had a little more tact than Scootaloo.

“How about we complement the colts on their flanks and thighs?” Said Scootaloo.

“Scoots, we know that colts don’t like being treated like objects.” Objected Applebloom, remember what her sister and brother taught her about treating colts.

“So what do we say then?” Asks Scootaloo. Trying to figure out another plan to get some summer-time coltfriends.

The former Cutie Mark Crusaders, were finally reaching that age where colts aren’t icky or have cooties. Were they saw the colts growing up to fully grown stallion. As their mind slowly switch from children to grown adults.

But moving on to the fourth and final filly, Diamond Tiara. The former school bully and plothole to everyone who wasn’t either her father or Silver Spoon. Her snarky, rude, awful and plotholish attitude has lessen over time, since her fated confrontation with her mother. But for anypony, change takes time and Diamond is having a difficult time adjusting. Even as she befriended the three fillies she used to torment, her old attitude remains strong.

“Ugh, you plan for getting some summer coltfriends, bucking sucks.” Swears Diamond in her traditional snarky voice.

Scootaloo offended by Diamond comment, retorts, “Well do you have any plans then.”

“Well, duh.” Diamond plainly states. As she folds her arm and tilts her head acting as if Scootaloo comment hurted her.

“Well we’re waiting?” Applebloom but in as Sweetie lowers her book.

Put on the spot, Diamonds blurts out the first thing on her mind. “Well, I would try to...umm...say they got a nice eye.” It wasn’t very well formulated plan.

Silence soon followed, then. “Baw-hahahahaha.” Both Applebloom and Scootaloo burst out laughing so hard, that they fell from their seats.

The color of Diamond face changes from her normal pale magenta coat to bright cherry red. Unused to these kind of situation, where she couldn’t bully or force the other to stop. She was left stupor state on what to do, until she heard a third laugh.

“Pffft.” She turns her head to see Sweetie trying to contain her laughter. “Nice eye.” Repeating what Diamonds just said.

Unable to handle this situation, Diamond walks to Sweetie with a look of rage. She yanks her up by her shirt and open her mouth.

“WELL WHAT DO YOU LOS-eeeerrs...”

The rest of her sentence falls dead. Reminding herself of what Sweetie, Applebloom and Scootaloo did for her. Even when she knew didn’t deserved it. As well as the lingering thought of turning out to be just like her mother. She lets go of Sweetie and mutter a small, “Sorry.” And walks down on a bench a few rows away from the Crusaders.

Sweetie on the other hand, look at Diamond with flabbergasted expression. Sensing the growing tension that Diamond created, as Scootaloo looks ready to throw down as Applebloom is about to get Ms. Cheerilee incase a fight break out.

“It’s fine.” Sweetie say walking over to Diamond. Easing the tension as Scootaloo relaxes and Applebloom release a small sigh of relief.

“Thank Celestia.” Mutters Applebloom.

“It’s not.” A strong hint of sadness leaves Diamond mouth, curling herself in a ball.

“Diamond it’s all right.” Sweetie tries to reassure her. Placing a hand over Diamond shoulder.

“It’s not.” She curls deeper into a ball.

“Diamond, Sweetie is right.” Scootaloo says, walking to where her two friend are. “It just a simple mistake.”

“Please stop lying.”

“Yeah, Scoots and Sweetie ‘re right.” Chimes Applebloom. “You’r getting used to the whole not yelling and bullying part, it only a matter of time before it stops.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Diamond response.

She begins to feel relieved at this. Yet in the back of her mind she hears small voice, whispering to her petty thoughts. That they’re just lying. That they’re just pretending to be her friends. That she’ll never really change. That she is just like her mother. A terrible po-

“Want me to read you something from my book” Sweetie break Diamond from the voice. “I’ll let you pick what I read.”

“Augh, really Sweetie.” Mocks Scootaloo. “Like that will get her out of her shell.”

Deciding to mess with Scoot for the comment, “Sure.”

“Dang it.”

“Ha.” Sweetie mimic a laugh.

“Get ready Applebloom, Sweetie is going all bookworm on us.” Scootaloo say walking away from the others.

“Don’t ya mean Twilight mode?” Question Applebloom as she follows Scootaloo. Knowing the danger they would face if they stuck around.

“Exactly.” A rapid series of hoofstep is heard.

Seeing the her two other to friend leave, well more like running. Sweetie look back to Diamond and mutters, “Well let follow them.” As mischievous smile appear across her light grey coat.

Diamond stares at Sweetie a bit confused, but like moth to a flame, she gets the memo immediately. A similar sinister smile appears across her face. “You did say I can pick right?”

“Yes I did.”

“I know just the one.” And with that the two fillies, begin to trace their friends.

Author's Note

I really want to continue this, but at the same time not really.