Fallout Equestria: The Road to Hell

by Dannykat

Rating: mature
Tags: Original Character, Crossover, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 10473

This is a story that takes place at the beginning of the apocalypse and at the end of Equestria. Simply put, it is the story of the last battle between the dead Empire of Roam and the lost civilization of Equestria, it is the Road to Hell.

“What story would you like to hear tonight, my little ponies?” the hooded Storyteller asked the children of the caravan.

“A story about a battle!” shouted a blood-red colt.

“Something with monsters!” demanded the colt’s scrawnier twin.

“What about a story with a girl hero?” a shy cobalt filly asked quizzically.

The Storyteller smiled at her small audience. “Luckily for all of you, I have a tale that is about all of these things. It is a tale about a great battle, a tale about monsters, and of course, a tale about a heroine.”

The foals grew silent as the sparsely armored figure that they called father sauntered in from the center of the minuscule camp to ask the Storyteller a question. “Yer story got a name?”

“Oh yes, it most certainly does. I call it -- The Road to Hell.”

Published 2013-08-08 03:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-16 07:01:39 UTC

No Peace

Fallout Equestria: The Road to Hell

By

Dannykat

“I swear to you, my dear Caesar, that I shall either find a way into Equestria... or carve a path into it.”

Legatus Nero’s Vow

“What story would you like to hear tonight, my little ponies?” the hooded Storyteller asked the children of the caravan.

“A story about a battle!” shouted a blood-red colt.

“Something with monsters!” demanded the colt’s scrawnier twin.

“What about a story with a girl hero?” a shy albino filly asked quizzically.

The Storyteller smiled at her small audience. “Luckily for all of you, I have a tale that is about all of these things. It is a tale about a great battle, a tale about monsters, and of course, a tale about a heroine.”

The foals grew silent as the sparsely armored figure that they called father sauntered in from the center of the minuscule camp to ask the Storyteller a question. “Yer story got a name?”

“Oh yes, it most certainly does. I call it -- The Road to Hell.”

* * *

The grey griffon hovered in the sky as she watched the newly unleashed megaspells usher into an age of eternal night.

As she watched the missiles launch from the direction of the enemy’s empire, her mechanical right talon -- a “gift” from the Stable that she had escaped from -- curled into a grip that could crush steel.

Despite her strength, all she could do was watch helplessly as the missiles that carried the dreaded balefire whisked through the sky like falling stars. When these stars ended their fall, they exploded into gargantuan mushroom clouds of green fire, taking entire cities and an uncountable amount of lives with them.

The burning horizon illuminated the red markings on the griffon’s plumage, giving them the glow of burning embers. As the force of the distant blast roared past her, she screamed to the gods of every race that anyone involved with this genocide would pay with their lives.

Fortunately, she knew just where to start.

She would start with the stallion that had tricked her into giving up her ideals, who had slaughtered countless civilians in the name of war, and who had falsely branded her as a traitor.

‘Woodrow,’ she thought. ‘Yes... I will begin with him.’

The griffon turned her back on the apocalypse and flew straight towards the even brighter horizon that held the the front lines of the war.

Below her, the presence of life had vanished as everypony either hid in their homes or fled into the Stables far below the surface of the earth.

Disturbed by the griminess of the earth, she stopped her flight, looked up towards the black clouds, and for the briefest of minutes she considered flying to the sky, never to return to the cursed ground below. But she had sworn an oath to never surrender a mission and she would most definitely not give up on her pony kin.

The griffon had found a home and a family with the ponies that resided on the rock beneath her. Unlike the inhabitants of the Griffon Kingdom that she had fled from when she was a child, the ponies of Equestria had seen her as one of their own. They had even given her a name -- Susan.

The beautiful memories of Susan’s friends and family no longer brought her joy. Instead, they brought to her a realization that everyone she knew and loved was gone. She could not save them, so she would try with the entirety of her being to avenge them. She banished the very idea of surrender and dashed towards her destination.

Along the invisible path towards the front lines, Susan glided near a city that was struck by a megaspell. In spite of her better judgement, she slowly descended into the burning city that a ruined sign called “Fillydelphia”.

The highway leading away from Fillydelphia was choked with the wreckage of ruined carts, and filled with the bodies of the ponies that had attempted to escape the death trap of urban rot.

The only survivor amongst the irradiated vehicles was a mother, covered in her own rotting flesh, that held the corpse of her child as she screamed for help.

Susan struggled with the idea of helping the dying mother, but then she remembered Woodrow.

The memory started with laboratories and the prisoners of war inside of them. They were used as test subjects and when the tests began... they would either die or become something that the fearful scientists called a ghoul.

The ghoulification process would begin when the prisoners were injected with massive amounts radiation, they would scream and shout -- just like the mother -- before they turned into silent and vicious abominations. The most vivid of these memories was how she had reacted to the monsters, how she threatened to destroy the lab in which they were spawned, and how Woodrow had convinced her that what was done was not only the right thing to do -- it was the moral thing to do. And she believed him.

By the time the memories had stopped polluting her mind, she had already drifted away from the doomed mother and into the ash covered outskirts of Fillydelphia. Susan dodged and flew by ruined skyscrapers and broken industrial chimneys that gave the city the appearance of a cemetery for gods and giants.

When she first saw survivors, the chaos around them had formed in a predictable pattern: they rioted, looted, and died the streets. But as Susan flew closer to the epicenter of the megaspell, the events below turned into an unexpected and utterly horrific nightmare.

Groups of dying ponies beat and lynched zebras in a futile attempt to strike back against the enemy, ravenous corpses rose from the dead and chased the living, and ash covered bodies littered the streets.

Susan absorbed the nightmare as quickly as she absorbed the radiation, the effects of which were held back by a small supply of Rad-Away. As Susan drank the foul orange liquid she heard the tortured scream of a foal. Susan halted her flight and scanned her surroundings, that was when she saw it, the most haunting sight she had ever seen.

A foal, with eyes that were melted into a viscous slime from watching the blast of the megaspell, burned to death in green balefire as she wailed for her deceased parents to come and save her. Susan flew towards the building, but the heat, combined with her instinctive self preservation, kept her at bay.

The foal was consumed by flame, and Susan fought back her tears as she desperately struggled to adjust to this new world.

As the building collapsed, Susan realized that she was not prepared for the Wasteland that we now live in.

Once again, she was helpless.

Once again, she turned her back on the apocalypse.

Once again, she flew away.

* * *

Children, forgive me for this, but let me start this piece of the story with a small history lesson.

Proud Valley was, and still is, the only land mass between Equestria and Zebrica. If a pony could not travel between these two continents by air or by sea you would be forced to brave the arid desert that was housed in Proud Valley.

During the Great War, the valley had occasionally been the front line, as both sides pushed each other back and forth in an effort to destroy the other’s homeland. Near the end of the war, the armies of Equestria pushed the desperate zebras out of Proud Valley, and the valley briefly saw a small window of peace.

But this peace was not to last as the newly birthed apocalypse, still in its horrific infancy, would lay the foundation for the now inevitable destruction of this ancient valley.

Still awake? Of course you are, nopony in the Wasteland sleeps... I will continue the story now.

* * *

The remnants of the Equestrian army gathered en masse at a makeshift camp on top of the only canyon pass that lead into Proud Valley.

In the center of the newly formed -- and hastily thrown together -- military camp, stood a large green tent with the Equestrian flag hanging above the entrance, that was guarded by soldiers covered in black power armor adorned with white markings that said “Woodcutter” on their sides. Within this tent were the two leaders of the Equestrian remnants: Dead Tree and Colonel Trustworthy, who stood both sat at a table covered with a map of Proud Valley.

Standing near the foot of the table was Dead Tree, a pale earth pony with a long black mane, clad in black and helmetless power armor. It was said, by both the allies and enemies of Equestria, that he was the one of the most sadistic creatures in creation. And in the eyes of the Equestrian military, his only saving grace was his was his complete and utter devotion to the defeat of the enemy.

At the head of the table sat Colonel Trustworthy, a grey unicorn that was covered in the scars that he had received from his numerous battles against the Roaman Empire. Unlike Dead Tree, Trustworthy was a leader that had actually been respected by not only the soldiers under his command but by the populace at large. But unlike Dead Tree, Trustworthy had grown so tired of the war and the killing and he had become a shadow of his former self in those final days of Equestria.

“Did you escort all of our soldiers out of Roam, Dead Tree?” asked Trustworthy.

Dead Tree chuckled. “You know how it is, sir, only the strongest under my command are allowed to survive.”

Trustworthy inhaled deeply as he realized the implications of these words. If he knew Dead Tree -- and he most certainly did -- this meant that Dead Tree’s cruel and sadistic nature had been given free reign with the advent of the apocalypse. He would have slaughtered any soldier under his command that wished to surrender just as easily as he would have slaughtered the enemy in his fanatical devotion to war.

But Trustworthy could not afford to punish Dead Tree, or even check to see if he had committed these crimes, not when the possibility of a final attack from the Empire plagued his thoughts.

Instead, Trustworthy would make do by asking Dead Tree more questions. “How many soldiers made it under your command then?”

“Well, the damned air support abandoned us, we only have two hundred light infantry (give or take), at least twenty five Steel Rangers,” -- Dead Tree smiled, lifted his left hoof and pointed at the outside -- “and of course, me and thirty other Woodcutters.”

“I heard--” Trustworthy hesitated as he asked the question that would determine the fate of the world “--reports that a large force of zebra soldiers are closing in on our position; is this true?”

Dead Tree opened his snout and casually confirmed Trustworthy’s worst fear. “Oh yeah, they definitely followed us. But we know for a fact that they’re being lead by Legatus Nero, who I should add, is probably very pissed off, seeing how me and my bucks cut off his access to any tanks and heavy ordinance he had back in Roam. Only problem is that those soldiers of his should be fully equipped with battle saddles and assault rifles.”

Trustworthy shivered at the thought of one last battle. “How many soldiers does Nero have?”

Dead Tree let out a whistle. “They have to have over one thousand troops... at least.”

When confronted with the numbers of the legion, Trustworthy whispered, “Celestia save us.”

Dead Tree laughed when he heard Trustworthy’s short prayer. “Didn’t you get the memo? The stripes reported a successful megaspell strike on Canterlot. If it isn’t just some last ditch enemy propaganda, the princesses are dead.”

Watching the megaspell carrying missiles fly overhead just hours ago was taking its toll on Trustworthy, but hearing that the Princesses had died nearly broke him. To cope, Trustworthy latched onto a nearby bottle of apple whiskey with the use of a blue aura, and poured the bottle’s contents into a glass cup.

Dead Tree stomped is steel hoof onto the ground. “With all due respect sir, we don’t need some namby pamby princesses when we can just wipe those stripes with some good old fashioned firepow--”

One of the Woodrow’s elite Woodcutters flew screaming through the tent, his black and white armor dented as he crash landed onto the table. Dead Tree and Trustworthy looked at the newly torn entrance, and they was were greeted by an enraged Susan, covered in the pitch-black ash of the dead.

“Where is he?” She growled.

“The traitor.” Dead Tree snarled, as he readied the battle saddles on his armor.

Trustworthy, barely into his drunken stupor, muttered, “Wait...”

Susan lunged at Dead Tree and grabbed his face with both talons. “Where is Woodrow?!”

“He’s not here, bitch!” Dead Tree hollered as he swung his hoof at Susan.

Susan dodged the lethal hoof and was knocked out of the tent as Dead Tree rammed his head into her chest.

Susan landed in the hard dirt coughing out blood as she brought herself to stand, and wiped the blood off her beak with a talon. “Liar!” she screamed.

Blood was trickling from Dead Tree’s scalp, yet the only emotion on his face was a wide grin.

Dead Tree’s grin grew. “Good-fucking-bye!” The battle saddles on Dead Tree’s sides opened fire and hit the dirt near Susan.

Susan used the wild sand as cover and opened fire with her large pistol.

Before Dead Tree had a chance to aim at Susan, both he and Susan were imprisoned in a blue orb.

“I said wait!” shouted Trustworthy.

The orbs containing the struggling soldiers hovered and placed themselves in front of Trustworthy.

“Everyone. Calm the fuck down.” Trustworthy ordered angrily.

Susan, muscles still tense, waited in the orb for her next opportunity to strike Dead Tree.

Dead Tree, on the other hoof, was confident in the orb’s strength and ignored Susan. “Sir! She’s a traitor to Equestria! We need to fucking execute her!

Trustworthy moved the orb containing Dead Tree so that they could see each other, face to face. “You still call me sir. Why’s that Dead Tree?”

Dead Tree snorted. “I still believe in our military.”

“Well then, as your superior, I order you to fuck right off. I need to talk to Susan.”

Dumbfounded, Dead Tree was released from the orb. After he fell, Dead Tree struggled to decide what course of action to take, but in the end he followed the orders his superior had given him, and he trudged away from Susan and Trustworthy.

Susan lost her tension as she remembered that Trustworthy was her friend- especially if he was willing to risk the wrath of Dead Tree. He clearly had something very important to tell her.

“You gonna play nice here, Susan?” Trustworthy joked.

“I’ll listen to what you have to say.” Susan answered.

“Then meet me in my tent.” Trustworthy sighed.

The bubble around Susan dissipated the moment Trustworthy trotted over to his now torn and ruined base of operations.

Susan, still anticipating an attack from Dead Tree, cautiously followed Trustworthy into the tent.

Trustworthy took a seat at the map table and poured another drink. “It’s been a long time Susan.”

“Yes,” she replied as she studied the map, “yes it has.”

“Have a seat?” Trustworthy asked politely.

“I’ll stand,” she said bluntly.

Trustworthy took a swig of apple whiskey. “I see you have a shiny new arm, that’s new.”

Susan raised her steel talon and curled its claws, showing him how they worked. “It’s not a big deal really...”

“You’re probably right, that peashooter of yours probably means you don’t have to use the arm.”

Susan un-holstered an oversized pistol and placed it on the table. “His name’s Peace.”

“Naming guns, that feels weirder than robot arms for some reason...” Trustworthy sighed as he remembered what he wanted to ask Susan. “Now tell me, what were you doing?”

“Hunting,” she whispered heavily.

“Hunting what?” he questioned.

Susan grabbed Peace and re-holstered him. “Woodrow.”

Trustworthy remembered the name. “I’ll help you with that.”

“Alright, what’s the catch?”

“Oh Susan, we’re friends! I wouldn’t give you a catch... but now that you mention it--” a good natured smile shifted on both of their faces “--I need you to do some recon, rumor has it that Legatus Nero’s army is moving into Equestria”

“Don’t you have pegasi for this?”

“They... well after the stripes threw the bombs, the pegasi just left.”

“Just left?”

“They didn’t even leave a letter.”

“Legatus Nero--” Susan pondered what the Legatus’ presence could foretell before finding the question she needed to have answered “-- is the Caesar with him?”

Trustworthy looked away distantly, towards a future only he could see. “I guess you’ll find out.”

* * *

Susan flew across the untouched sky above Proud Valley, the toxic clouds of our wasteland far in the distance. She almost forgot that the world had ended until she flew past a giant statue, a monolith really, of a stallion’s head on top of a round cliff, and saw the red specks below her.

An entire base camp, much more organized and larger than the Equestrian camp, was wedged between hills and jagged rock formations.

Susan scanned the tent filled camp for any sign of the Caesar’s tent, the appearance of which she had learned of in preparation for an assassination attempt that was never attempted, but she did not find it.

Instead she found the Legatus’ tent; a large black, red, and, gold command post that resembled a pyramid more than anything else.

Susan flew higher, hoping that the enemy hadn’t seen her, and saw something that stopped her breath.

Black tents behind the Nero’s base, as far as the eye could see. Even if each tent held only three soldiers the Equestrians would be outnumbered.

Susan swung her wings and flew back to tell Trustworthy the grim news.

The statue on the round cliff and the clouds all became a blur as she zoomed past them. She spotted Trustworthy and almost crashed as she landed at his hooves. “The Caesar isn’t there--” Susan panted, “--but his... Nero’s army is massive.”

Just as Trustworthy was about to open his mouth a scream interrupted him.

Both he and Susan turned towards the direction of the scream -- which was coincidentally in the same direction as the enemy’s camp -- and saw him. A bloody stallion, whose eyes had been cut out, and who wore a metal neck piece that had a glowing red dot on the front.

Susan sprinted towards the ex-prisoner, but the moment she neared him he stopped running and screamed. “Stop! Don’t touch me!”

“I’m just going to help...” Susan said as reassuringly as possible.

Her attempt at comforting him failed. “No! You don’t understand! I need to deliver a message!”

Trustworthy trotted in. “What message son?”

“Th-their leader wants to meet with you... s-s-sir,” the prisoner stuttered as the blood from his empty eye-sockets dripped into his mouth.

Trustworthy moved to place a hoof around the prisoner’s shoulder. “Now soldier, we’ll get you back home and remove that collar--”

*BLAM*

The collar detonated and the stallion’s head exploded into pieces of meat and skull.

Trustworthy looked at the corpse in shock, wondering who could have pulled the trigger, until Susan punched his shoulder, and pointed at the sky.

A massive black dragon, with evil twisted horns, and a rider with a detonator in hoof, flew away.

“What do we do now, Trustworthy?” Susan asked.

Trustworthy wiped away the wet and sticky blood from face. “We meet with their leader.”

* * *

The three misfit ambassadors walked towards an ornate dinner table, placed at the base of the round cliff that held the stone stallion high above. When they reached it they were greeted by Legatus Nero.

He wore a red cape that rested on beautiful golden armor with a helmet in the shape of a lion, adorned with a mane of bright-red phoenix plumes.

Nero was guarded by the two most powerful beasts that he had in his control. The first of these beasts stood to his left: a massive armored elephant with sharp tusks that were engraved with images of ponies being skewered by hordes of elephants.

To his left was the dragon that Susan and Trustworthy had seen earlier. His eyes were a cruel window into his soul, and if you dared stare into them they would give you a glimpse of hell.

“Hail,” Nero said with a grim and unearnest tone. “You must be Colonel Trustworthy, may I interest you in a meal, or perhaps a beverage?” he asked before taking a bite out of an exotic fruit.

Trustworthy took a seat at the table and answered, “Don’t mind if I do,” as he magically grabbed a jar of red wine with a telekinetic blue aura, much to the dismay of an exasperated Dead Tree.

“Sir! What the hell are you doing?! Those stripes probably poisoned the damned wine!” Dead Tree whinnied in protest.

Trustworthy moved his hoof over the head of the chair, stared at Dead Tree, and proceeded to scold him. “Dead Tree, take a long look at the company Legatus Nero keeps, and then look at that tasty looking wine he gave me. Which one do you think he would prefer to kill us with?”

Susan couldn’t help but smirk when the frustrated Dead Tree was silenced by sound logic.

Trustworthy stopped staring Dead Tree down to talk about a new topic with the Legatus. “Sorry about Dead Tree, now I have a question for you Mr. Nero, why do want to enter Equestria?”

The armored zebra turned away from his food and replied. “The answer to that, Colonel, is simple. Your nation had the most powerful megaspells and now my homeland is all but uninhabitable. Your corrupted country, on the other hoof, has taken less severe damage. In response to your crimes, the Caesar gave me and my army the divine mission of rebuilding our glorious Empire within the ruins of Equestria.”

“I won’t let you do that,” Trustworthy promised.

“To resist us is suicide, perhaps you could save my army the effort and crucify your soldiers on our behalf.”

“You know, that sure is tempting, but I don’t think they would appreciate me if I did that, and besides, we can beat you.”

Nero allowed himself a chuckle, “Look behind me, Colonel, I control the largest army left in the world. We outnumber your paltry force a thousand to one.”

“Now you might be embellishing those numbers a little bit, but either way it’ll take more than that to beat us.”

Intrigued by this game of numbers and strength continued. “Then look upon the beasts that stand at my side.” Nero outstretched his left hoof and pointed at the armored elephant that towered next to him. “The great war-chief, Virtus and his sons have crushed Steel Rangers as if they were little more than tin cans! They single-hoofedly retook the lost city of Volga!” Nero boasted with the ignorant pride of one who ignored the cost of winning a battle.

Trustworthy turned grim as he remembered the aforementioned battle and answered with an insult directed towards Virtus, “As I recall, he got most of his tribe killed while he was ‘busy’ taking back Volga.”

At this insult, Virtus roared angrily, but despite his rage he did not break his oath to the honor-bound Nero; do not kill the enemy before battle.

After Virtus had stopped roaring, Nero placed a hoof on the obsidian scales of the dragon to his right, and introduced it. “And this is my pet, Ladon. I found his egg during my campaign against the rebel tribes of the south, and I -- with the Caesar’s permission of course -- made sure to raise it to know only chaos and death so that he may massacre all who would dare oppose my glorious Empire.”

“I have to admit that he does look pretty vicious, in fact, he almost makes me wish I had a flier.” Trustworthy motioned his head with a wink wink, nudge nudge sort of attitude towards Susan’s general direction.

Nero caught on to the meaning of Trustworthy’s motions and asked, “Do you intend to use a mere bird to defeat my dragon?”

“Well I wouldn’t call her a bird, but yes, the core concept’s the same.”

“Ladon could kill one thousand griffons with a single swipe of his claw! That cub cannot possibly fly against him!” As soon as Nero said this, an instinctive challenge was sent between Ladon and Susan.

Susan looked at Ladon, staring deep into his hellish eyes, and gave him a single promise. “I will meet you in the sky.”

Ladon extended his wings, grinned with malformed and razor-sharp teeth, and with a thundering and guttural voice he said, “Yes.”

Trustworthy smiled at Nero, while taking a sip from a cup of wine. “You never know.”

“Now let us look at your ‘greatest’ soldiers, an equicidal profligate” -- Nero motioned towards Dead Tree before turning his attention towards Susan -- “and a simple mercenary.”

Susan suddenly and unexpectedly intervened. “I am not a mercenary.”

Unused to being interrupted, Nero curiously looked at Susan and asked, “Then what, exactly, are you?”

“An Equestrian,” Susan replied.

He dismissed Susan with a wave of his hoof and returned the line of conversation towards Trustworthy. “My apologies Colonel, let me correct myself: ‘and a simple griffon that thinks she is a pony.’”

Susan balled her talon into a fist and slammed it onto the desert’s floor, with an audible *thud*. “You are wrong again, Nero, I am an Equestrian because Equestria was my home, and when I find you in battle, I will kill you for destroying it.”

Susan’s threat consumed Nero with rage as he yelled at Trustworthy, who was currently chugging down the entire jug of wine. “You filthy drunkard! This wretched pet of yours has no honor! Believe me when I tell you that I will have my Praetorians bring her back, alive, and I will personally cut out her tongue before I crucify her!”

Nero’s wrath provoked Ladon and Virtus into taking defensive positions, the act of which motivated Dead Tree to ready his battle saddles.

Nero motioned with both hooves for Ladon and Virtus to stand down while he simultaneously addressed Dead Tree. “I have heard tales of what you are, Dead Tree. Tell me then, is it true that you murdered your family just to receive a cutie mark?”

Dead Tree let out a deep and distorted answer through his helmet. “Ayup”

A look of shock overtook Nero’s face after he heard Dead Tree’s casual tone while referring to such an atrocious event. However, the shock wore off quickly and Nero responded with a threat, “Then I will cut off that infernal cutie mark and feed it to you.”

Dead Tree laughed heartily at the threat.

Still seething with rage, Nero turned his attention to Trustworthy, and gave him more unique threat. “As for you, Colonel, I will tell my Praetorians to give you a clean and honorable death only because I want to preserve your coat before taking it from your corpse, and adding it to my trophy wall.”

“What this old thing? It’s too hot for me to wear it here, I’ll just give it to you.” Trustworthy took off his bloodstained trench coat and placed it in front of Nero.

Nero smiled at the trench coat in front of him. “That’s not the coat I meant, Colonel.”

“Well that’s the only coat you’ll get from me, Legatus.” Trustworthy turned his back on Nero and trotted back to the base camp with Dead Tree in tow.

Susan moved to join them, but Nero stopped her with a shout. “Griffon! I did not destroy Equestria -- I saved it.”

The ignorance -- no -- the cruelty of his claim reminded Susan of the dying foal. The unbearable scene became more vivid with each passing second, and when she could no longer handle the memory her body tensed to lunge at Nero... but she could not bring herself to strike.

She had already failed her previous oath to protect Equestria from harm, and she would not break the oath to kill the Legatus in combat. Quickly, she broke her battle-stance, and propelled herself to Trustworthy’s side.

Perhaps the leaders of these two armies could have reached a peaceful agreement or perhaps they could have killed each other and spared the lives of the soldiers under their command. But with these old warriors, war had never changed.

* * *

One hour after the remnants of Equestria had been given a battleplan, Trustworthy met Susan on top of a cliff that overlooked the future battlefield. The ponies below placed landmines in preparation for the zebra onslaught.

He caught Susan’s nearly-hidden worry. “What’s wrong?”

Susan sighed as she sat down. “I heard your orders and I didn’t question those orders, just like everypony else. But the more I thought about your plan, the more flaws I saw.”

Trustworthy sat next to her and placed his left hoof on her shoulder. “Tell me what you think.”

Susan looked away from Trustworthy and released her observations. “Why are we sending the light infantry to the front? They won’t be able to stand against even the smallest weapon. Why don’t we send the Woodcutters and the Steel Rangers instead?”

“You’ve never fought Nero before.”

Susan looked at Trustworthy with mournful eyes. “Volga?” she asked.

Trustworthy grimaced at the thought of Volga. “I’ve been to many battlefields, but Volga stood out the most.

“When I entered that city, the first thing Nero did was send wave upon wave of of Evocati... the wounded and the old... on suicide charges at us, then he would send in his warriors to finish off what the Evocati couldn’t finish. We beat the first wave that guarded the city, but when we entered we saw his true colors. He gave everyone a weapon, civilians, retirees... children, and he forced us kill them all.”

“Why would he do something so wasteful?” Susan interrupted.

“The brass assumed he was too stupid to form proper battle tactics... but I saw something else in him. I saw a stallion who could envision carnage where we couldn’t, who saw the soldiers under his command as tools to be exploited, who saw himself as a god of war. But the worst and most truly unbelievable thing about him is... is that he won every battle he participated in. He stopped us from taking Volga, he conquered the southern tribes I was funding, he even managed to turn Roam into a death trap. All through tactics that we never expected and that the rest of the Empire was too fearful to even consider using unless he was present.”

“And how does that explain placing the light infantry on the front?”

“I learned how he thinks. He always starts his battles by sending the Evocati on a suicide charge. If we place the armored soldiers in front, the chance that one of the suicides is equipped with a balefire egg becomes too much of a risk. But if we fight them with light infantry, Nero’s true soldiers, the Legionnaires, won’t be expecting the armor.”

“Our soldiers in the front will still die.”

“That’s war, Susan.”

Susan grabbed a rock and threw it off of the cliff. “I won’t let them die, I will defend as many of these soldiers as I can. And if I do die... I will die as a warrior should.”

Trustworthy gave her a warm smile. “Then let’s find death together.” He stood and extended a hoof towards her.

Susan gently grabbed onto his hoof. “May he fear our arrival.”

Trustworthy pulled Susan up, and together, they walked to the front lines of the last battle.

* * *

The Empire’s army formed in a line on the distant plains of the desert. The soldiers near Trustworthy caught sight of the enemy, and exchanged looks of worry and fear. Trustworthy levitated a small flask of apple whiskey, took a big swig, and offered it to the thankful ponies.

The Evocati stomped their hooves onto the ground in unison in anticipation for their last charge. Seconds later, deafening horns sounded and the Evocati charged.

They rushed through the minefield and chaos nearly overwhelmed them. Entire sections of the Evocati’s charge exploded into a fiery and mangled corpses as they trampled over the mines. Despite this, the ones that remained unscathed by the landmines trampled their screaming brothers and continued their suicide charge.

As the Evocati closed in, the ponies panicked and fired their battle saddles wildly -- missing the majority of the incoming zebras. Susan took careful aim with Peace and shot as many zebras as she could before holstering her firearm and preparing her robotic claw.

The line of the damned crashed into the ponies, slashing and cutting their enemy with rusty gladiuses.

The swords ripped into the flesh of the lightly armored ponies. The fates of those in front now sealed, the Equestrians in the back were forced to bite the triggers.

Bleeding gashes were torn and carved into zebra and pony alike in a barrage of flaring bullets.

The bodies fell and amongst them was an old Evocati with an eyepatch wrapped around his head. The Equestrians, still in shock from having killed their own soldiers, did not fire upon him, and accidentally gave him the room to gallop towards Trustworthy.

The old zebra threw his gladius at Trustworthy, but Susan caught it with her right talon. She crushed it with the talon’s unnatural strength and lunged towards the zebra. He managed to turn himself around and buck at her with his hind legs, but Susan dodged it and caught his left leg. Using the strength of both of her talons, she tore his leg off.

The screams of the old zebra were silenced as Susan impaled his head with her talon.

Panting heavily, Susan looked up and saw the shadowy figures of the Legionnaires as they marched through the dust swept mine-field.

Trustworthy hollered orders to the soldiers under his command. “Drop down and use their bodies as cover!”

Immediately, everypony, including Susan, lied flat on their stomachs and steadied their battle saddles using the corpses.

“Ready your weapons and only fire when I give the signal,” Trustworthy said to the terrified soldiers that waited beside him.

The soldier to Susan’s left, barely a teenager, clung to his sniper rifle and shook violently as he urinated himself. Quickly, Susan put her claw on his shoulder to calm him down.

“I’ll protect you,” she whispered into his ear peacefully.

Slowly his shaking stopped. Susan returned her attention to the wall of bright red and gold of striped soldiers that now stood unnervingly still.

A large Centurion, with a battle saddle to match his imposing size, trotted to the front of the Legionnaires, raised his hoof, charged forward.

The Legionnaires charged alongside him, the earth shook as they ran. Seconds felt like years as the the crushed the earth beneath them, but the moment the Legionnaires got within range, Trustworthy gave his signal. “RAIN HELL!”

Susan and her soldiers opened fire with their battle saddles and pistols, cutting the entire front of the Legionnaire charge into a bleeding pile of corpses that skidded across the sand as their charge was broken.

The surviving Legionnaires stopped the charge, and attempted to shoot back -- the majority of their bullets peppering corpses instead of living foes.

The Legionnaires paused their onslaught to reload, and Trustworthy shouted, “Fire again!” This time the soldiers had gained more confidence, and their improved aim struck down more Legionnaires than they had ever dared to hope to kill.

The Centurion bit down on the handle to his massive battle saddle and a barrage of bullets tore through the head of the terrified soldier Susan had sworn to defend. She stared, shell shocked, at the soldier’s corpse -- his blood ran across her face.

The Centurion had not foreseen such heavy resistance and ordered a group of zebras pulling a cart to unload a large and crude machine. “Igni draco perducat!”

Susan recognized the terms ‘igni’ and ‘draco’; together they became dragonfire, and dragonfire was balefire.

As the bullets whizzed by, Susan grabbed the sniper rifle off of the dead soldier she had failed. She looked through its scope and found a small crew of zebras readying a large balefire mortar.

Susan focused on the glowing eggs that were being carried towards the over-sized mortar. She centered the rifle’s crosshairs onto a single exposed egg, and pulled the trigger.

A smaller version of the megaspell blasted out, and consumed the Legionnaires. Black and white limbs rained from the sky, mutilated Legionnaires screamed in pain, and those that were lucky enough to not be harmed would soon come face to face with the wrath of Equestria.

Susan pointed her metallic right talon at the surviving Legionnaires, and screeched at the top of her lungs. “Charge!”

The warriors of Equestria screamed like savages as they got up from their prone position, and charged alongside the shieldmaiden.

The remaining zebras either retreated from the charging ponies, or stood their ground and readied their rifles amidst the radioactive flames that swept through the blackened earth beneath them.

The Centurion -- his his armor melted into his flesh -- coughed out blood as he struggled to keep himself up by leaning on his gladius. Before he could stand, Susan tore out his throat with her unaltered talon; avenging the stallion she had failed to protect.

The Legionnaires unleashed a flurry of enchanted bullets that burnt all they hit.

As her fellow soldiers caught fire, Susan ran in a zigzag pattern, dodging the bullets.

Finally, when she had reached the small group of zebras -- formed in a small circular herd -- she broke her zigzag and leapt into the air. She pulled out Peace, and rained a storm of bullets onto the herd.

As the Legionnaires fired upwards, the Equestrians galloped close to the zebras, and emptied every bullet from their battle saddles -- tearing the leftover Legionnaire into a mess of dismembered body parts, the results of which created small lake of blood and flayed skin.

Susan tightened her grip on Peace, raised him towards the sky, and screamed a scream of defiance that could be heard across the world.

* * *

Legatus Nero could not believe the news he had been given. His Legionnaires had not only been defeated by a group of front-line cannon-fodder without reaching the targeted armored ponies, but they had committed the most unforgivable of all crimes; they had retreated.

“Ready the failures for decimation,” he murmured to the scout that had given him the grave news.

“Sir, would that not be wasteful?” the scout stammered. “Perhaps we can turn these failures into Evocati or--”

Nero slammed his hoof on the arm of his throne. “I said ready the decimation you worm! Weakness such as this cannot even be given the glory of a suicide charge!”

Nero inhaled deeply and repeated his order to the scout. “Now ready the decimation on the highest hill you can find, or you join the profligates.”

“Yes sir, right away sir,” whispered the visibly shaken scout as he scurried out of the tent.

“As for you two” -- the Legatus pointed at the Praetorians that guarded the tent’s entrance -- “I want you to ready the cargo to follow our final march against those damned ponies.”

“Yes sir,” the Praetorians said in unison before leaving to carry out their orders.

Nero sighed and waited on his throne, considering his next move. After waiting for what seemed an eternity in the darkness and the silence of his gilded throne room he heard the trumpets signal the readying of the crucifixion, all that was required was his presence.

Wearily he stood up, exited his tent and looked for the execution ground. He shielded his face with an armored hoof as the sand of the howling desert whipped through the air, but he paid it no heed. Because really, what good would it do for a Roaman to worry about something as trivial as sand?

Ladon guarded the prisoners on the hill, and as if he had felt his master’s need to find the execution ground he extended his wings, instantly catching Nero’s attention. With his destination in sight, Nero marched towards the hill, slowly and stoically.

As Nero walked gallantly down the hill, Praetorian and Legionnaire alike followed him from out of their tents. More and more soldiers respectfully trailed him and by the time he had reached the hill, his entire army waited at its base.

Nero climbed to the top of the hill next to Ladon and the disgraced Legionnaires, and looked down at his subjects. “My warriors! Today we stand on the precipice of a new world. A world where our race lords above all others. A world where the Empire has eradicated the corruption of the stars. A world where the diseases of failure and weakness are eradicated!”

He paused his speech to allow his soldiers to cheer as they had always done, but a surprising thing happened; they remained quiet.

When confronted with this silence Nero felt fear; fear that he could not lead like the Caesar before him. He struck the thought down just as quickly as it had arisen, for what good would it do for a leader to worry over the lack of cheers from his army? The Praetorians and the remaining Legionnaires below him would obey his every word, all they required was an order.

He stomped his hoof on a large rock that waited in front of him, immediately grabbing the attention of the once tired soldiers, and continued his rant. “To achieve this perfect world you must do as I command. You may have once called the profligates, that stand next to me, ally or brother even. But they have committed the ultimate crime in our new world -- they retreated. And now they are your enemy. Strike them down and when you are done, do not bury their corpses, crucify them!”

Ladon roared, grabbed the chains that bound the prisoners together and threw them into the crowd at the bottom of the steep hill.

As the decimation commenced the screams of the executed echoed throughout the valley, sending a cold shiver of doubt down Nero’s spine.

‘Should I have committed the decimation?’ he wondered ‘Should I have ordered my soldiers to defile the corpses of their allies... should I have ordered the cargo to follow us?’

His thoughts bickered back and forth until they found the answer. ‘Yes.’

The Caesar himself had decreed that Nero and his legion held the survival of their Empire in their hooves. Why would someone, with a mission as grave as this, even consider something as trivial as morals?

* * *

Susan and Trustworthy waited in the back of the pass alongside the resting soldiers, she was almost glad that she could regain her strength but the thought of the Woodcutters in the front gave her a feeling of unease.

Trustworthy noticed Susan’s look of curiosity and passed her a pair of binoculars. “Tell me how it goes, huh?”

Susan nodded respectfully and brought the binoculars to her eyes. The first thing she saw was Dead Tree standing near the front, surrounded by his Rangers in preparation for the next assault.

“I hope you die slow,” she muttered angrily under her breath.

She raised the binoculars and looked towards the enemy’s position. The grim-faced Nero stood in front of Virtus and two other elephants, his red cloak billowed in the screaming wind. He raised his gold plated hoof and mouthed an order.

Susan turned the binoculars towards Virtus just as he opened his maw and roared. Their charge was followed by a large force of Legionnaires and Praetorians.

When the horde started its run, Dead Tree shouted, “Soldiers! Prepare for glory in death!”

Susan almost laughed at Dead Tree’s strange sense of honor, but Trustworthy said something that she never thought she would hear. “Good luck, Dead Tree.”

Virtus and his sons were halfway through the field when the son to Virtus’ left tripped on a leftover land mine. Bone and flesh broke as his foreleg was violently severed from his torso. The shock killed him instantly.

Virtus didn’t see his son die, yet he roared in anger as he felt his son’s blood stain his side.

The Woodcutters activated their battle saddles.

The bullets flew through the hot air and tore through the second son. His eyes exploded, his trunk was severed, and his body ceased to work.

At this point, Virtus didn’t even need to see or feel his last son’s death, he just knew.

The stampeding elephant charged right into the Woodcutters in the front. His hooves crushed them in their armor, his swinging tusks impaled them, and the bullets only enraged him.

The jagged tusks of the furious war chief swung again, this time the sharp tip of the right tusk hit Dead Tree. As the engraved tusk tore through the Dead Tree’s head, it cut helmet and flesh alike, and cleaved his face into a skinless piece of flesh, complete with a bleeding sardonic grin.

Despite the massive damage he had received, Dead Tree refused to fall.

With a great amount of effort and strength, Dead Tree moved his mutilated snout to whisper a curse of defiance against Virtus, “I’m still standing you fucker.”

Dead Tree faced Virtus, readied every weapon that his power armor had to offer, screamed, “I'M STILL STANDING!” and fired upon Virtus.

The missiles crashed into Virtus’ head, which immediately exploded into a large cloud of misty red hail that consisted of bloody chunks of brains and pieces of skull. The massive corpse that was formerly Virtus fell to the ground and shook the earth; in the end, Virtus’ size was not a strength, it was a weakness.

Dead Tree opened his mouth, the last strands of muscle that remained on his cheek tore as he did so, and gave every soldier near Virtus’ corpse a single. “Slaughter them!”

The soldiers climbed onto the newly formed roadblock of flesh, unfortunately, the Legionnaires had a similar plan. Both sides struggled to climb to the top of the blood covered pachyderm mound.

Simultaneously, the Praetorians and the Equestrians came face to face and they shot each other at close range.

Bullets ripped into the soldiers and turned them into a pile of corpses. But with no reason for the Equestrians to live and the fate of Roam was on the hooves of the zebras, everyone continued to push onto the mound.

As the bodies slid off and even more soldiers died a vortex of fire fell from the sky. The cyclone set the battlefield on top of Virtus alight, as the survivors flailed and screamed through the flames.

Ladon had arrived.

* * *

Ladon burned friend and foe alike with cruel indifference. As he beat his wings the smoke from the charred corpses spread and the smell of scorched flesh overwhelmed everyone in the canyon pass -- everyone that is, except for Susan.

Susan flew in front of Ladon, took aim with Peace, and fired at Ladon’s face. Ladon roared in pain as the one of the lucky shots burst his right eye, he recovered almost instantly, his last eye flicked and stared at Susan with burning hatred -- she had his attention.

He roared a stream of fire at her direction. Deftly, Susan darted to Ladon’s left and fired. Some of the bullets were lucky enough to strike Ladon’s weaker scales and pierce his flesh but this only angered him.

Susan flew above Ladon and fired again as she launched herself into the black clouds that had formed above them.

Ladon needed to only beat his muscular wings once before he was propelled towards Susan’s position. Susan shot Ladon only once in an attempt to conserve ammo and distract him from the battlefield. The bullet was crushed by Ladon’s scales and he came even closer.

Quickly, Susan dove into the clouds in an attempt to continue the chase. Tears formed as she floated through the limbo that was a toxic rain cloud.

‘No noise,’ she thought, ‘I have to find him first.’

She looked around the hellish sky for any sign of the dragon and accidentally ran into a black cloud.

She coughed.

A roar boomed from beneath her, and with thrashing claws and a tail that swung wildly, Ladon parted the clouds as he missed his intended target by mere inches.

The sheer force of his passing by violently threw Susan to edge of the cloud formation. She skidded across the clouds and stopped herself by grabbing onto the cloud’s edge. Patiently, she hung from the tainted cloud and waited for her prey.

Ladon beat his wings, clearing the clouds in his area. He cocked his head to the side like a dog and scanned the clouds with his one good eye. That’s when he found Susan -- hanging from a cloud.

Blood spurted out of his empty eye socket as his face warped in preparation for another thundering roar. He launched himself forward -- mouth extended for his meal.

Susan shot at the incoming dragon until Peace clicked, she kissed Peace for luck and holstered him.

Ladon drew close, Susan launched herself from the cloud, and she latched onto the beast’s right horn.

Ladon roared in confusion when he tasted no flesh.

Susan extended her mechanical right claw and speared Ladon’s eye socket.

Ladon shook his head violently and desperately to rid himself of the excruciating pain.

Susan latched onto a piece of his skull and tore scales, skin and bone right off -- covering both Ladon’s head and Susan’s body in streams of blood.

Ladon’s roar was deafening as he shot flame forward. He flew through the cloud of flames, but Susan had taken cover in his skull as she tore viciously into his exposed brain.

Susan dug and clawed into Ladon’s head, and the moment she struck the core of his brain, his muscles spasmed violently and ceased all motion.

Ladon’s corpse fell and glided all at once.

Susan inhaled bloody mist before feeling Ladon’s descent. She jumped from the draconic carcass just in time to watch his body crash into the ancient pillar.

Ladon’s corpse was crushed as it slammed into the pillar, cause the massive pillar to crack and break. The cracks and the breaks extended to the stone stallion’s neck and decapitated it. This ancient work of art, that had taken years to build, was destroyed at the end of a ten second fall.

Susan studied the mangled and broken corpse of the great beast, as well as the destruction that surrounded him, and Celestia help her, she smiled.

* * *

Susan returned to the pass to find the zebra’s had conquered Virtus’ ashen corpse. They fired burning bullets into Steel Rangers, turning their suits of armor into molten sarcophagy.

Trustworthy galloped towards the zebras, grabbed a hoof full of the flaming bullets with his magic, and tossed them back.

The bullets landed on Virtus’ corpse, causing his brittle ribs to collapse and send the zebras tumbling into a boiling cavity of stomach acid and blood. The Equestrians cheered as the zebras screamed and thrashed in the bodily fluids as their heavy armor dragged them to the lethal bottom.

As Susan soared past them, the zebras behind Virtus ran back to regroup with Nero and his lurking Praetorians.

On the ground, sat the remains of Dead Tree. Susan landed in front of the charred and mangled corpse, and said, “I hope it hurt.”

Before she could feel any actual empathy for her former enemy, Virtus exploded. Chunks of flesh buried Dead Tree’s corpse as Susan dodged the macabre hail.

Nero’s unmistakable voice shouted through the smoking remains. “Enim!”

The unified voices of his army shouted back. “Roam!”

“ENIM!”

“ROAM!”

With one final cry of patriotism the Praetorians charged through the smoke, galloping through the blood of their fallen comrades.

They ran into the Equestrians, and masterfully mixed the use of gladiuses and guns. Their swords cut through light armor, their guns cracked and bullets tore into flesh, and Susan slashed back.

The Praetorians attempted to consume the Equestrians like a radigator consuming a screaming child.

But it was the Equestrians who had the upper hoof.

The clouds that held Susan’s previous battle with Ladon had reached the valley. Foul and blinding rain pelted the combatants and dampened their vision, but not their wrath.

The guns blasted point blank into the Praetorians, the bullets tore through their archaic gladiuses and armor and into their flesh.

But amongst the now dying Praetorians, there was the glint of a gladius that caught Susan’s eye.

Nero had reached Trustworthy. Susan could only watch as Trustworthy looked at her and smiled.

The shining gladius reached Trustworthy’s neck and cleaved off his head.

Susan dropped Peace, she sprinted through the burning rain, and she saw them.

Five shadows who were no doubt Praetorians stood between her and Nero. Her adrenaline fueled strength allowed her to tear through them, easily, quickly, and violently.

They begged for life like so many others had, but she was deaf to their pleas. Nero screamed, not a scream of anger but a scream of anguish.

He charged towards her, his gladius extended.

She charged towards him, her steel talon was ready.

They reached each other and sliced and cut into each other. Susan slashed Nero’s face and grabbed the gladius out of his mouth. With the gilded gladius in her talon she rammed it into his stomach.

As his intestines spilled through the wet mud, he looked at Susan and cried. Not an insult, not a curse, but an actual cry.

Clean tears flowed from his face and mixed with fetid rain and he begged. “Please... please let us through... the Caesar decreed that they must live.”

His words and his actions confused Susan. “You fought against us and you killed my friend. None of you deserve to live!”

“Not the soldiers... them.” He lifted his hoof and pointed at the zebras Susan had slain.

Her heart stopped as she saw what she had wrought. The corpses of mares and foals surrounded Trustworthy’s corpse, each one bearing the distinctive cut of her mechanical talon.

“I-I-I have failed you, my dear Caesar...” was the last thing Nero said before he drowned in his own blood.

The rain subsided and she saw them. A herd of hungry and desperate zebra civilians that had escaped from Roam and both the Woodcutters and the Steel Rangers were charging towards them.

She ran towards the civilians in a desperate bid to redeem herself but the warriors of Equestria had already opened fire. The collective screams of the last families of Roam pierced Susan’s mind as they were shot and trampled under the warriors that Susan had fought alongside earlier.

She flew into the crowd of zebras and attempted to stop her former allies but she was shot and trampled like the rest.

She lay on the cold wet mud, bleeding and broken, amongst the corpses of mares and foals, and she stared into the dead sky. The screams were silenced now and she wondered what she would do.

‘I can fix this,’ she thought. ‘There must be some way for me to fix this.’

The cold darkness overcame her, and Susan finally understood the Wasteland.

Epilogue

Red fluid from a large health potion splashed across Susan’s face. The cold liquid crawled to the bottom of her face, and she awoke in darkness. As her eyes adjusted she was greeted by the blank stare of a Woodcutters helmet.

“Time to get up.” Woodcutter half said and half chuckled.

Susan attempted to lunge at him, but was stopped with the rattle of the cold iron chains and shackles that wrapped around her.

“What the hell do you want?” She hissed.

“The boss is here, and we’re gonna meet him.”

Two silent, dark, and statuesque Woodcutters, attached to the chains that bound Susan, emerged alongside her left and right, and trotted forward. Susan was forced between being dragged or walking behind them, she chose to walk.

Susan expected sunlight when they reached the exit of the small green tent, but she was greeted by a sky that was dominated by black clouds.

But the most unnerving thing that she felt was the cold. The heat of Froud Valley had died, and in it’s place was a lacerating cold that howled and screamed on the wind.

Susan was so shocked with the changes in the land that she didn’t notice the behemoth of an airship, as black as the clouds themselves, that she was being dragged towards to.

She snapped out of her observation of the sky and saw an all too familiar figure standing in front of the airship, “Woodrow.”

The Woodcutters closed in and laid Susan at Woodrow’s hooves.

He was clad in black power armor, similar in design to Dead Tree’s, but he wore a helmet that was shaped like a growling monster, it was a helmet in the shape of the zebra’s stars.

“Hello, Susan,” Woodrow said with infectious influence.

“You monster! I’ll kill you!” Susan screamed in futile defiance.

“Now here I was, under the impression that you had already gotten your fill of monster killing.” Woodrow motioned his hoof to the right. Susan looked and saw the bodies of Ladon and Virtus amongst hundreds of zebra corpses in a massive bonfire.

Susan screamed in anguish.

“You did well Susan, much better than any of us ever expected.” Woodrow said with an impressed tone.

“We?” Susan growled.

Woodrow’s head cocked to the side. “Oh please, don’t tell me you forgot about the old gang.”
“The organization died a long time ago.”

“Oh, I assure you, we’re still alive and kicking.”

Susan paused and thought of the implications that this could hold. “Even if it is still functioning, I won’t join a murder like you.”

“Murderer... me? Well, maybe you have a point there, but... lets look at you shall we? Hmmm where to begin? Oh! I know! Trottingham.”

Susan’s face beamed with hatred. “Your soldiers killed everyone in that square!”

“And who was it that asked for us to eliminate the politicians and make sure that they didn’t make Trottingham secede? Who gave us their locations? Who gave us the go ahead? If I remember correctly, I think it was you.”

“I never forced you to use a balefire eggs! You killed children! Children!” Susan angrily screamed at Woodrow as she futilely struggled to break out of her chains.

“The mission was a success, Trottingham never seceded and I wasn’t even in Trottingham when my soldiers did the mission that you asked us to do! And you’re talking to me about murdering children? My Woodcutters told me about how you killed the Legatus, and well, you went through a hell of alot of children to get to him.”

Woodrow’s words pierced and destroyed Susan’s rage, all that was left was doubt as she stared at ground. “It doesn’t matter, we are all dead anyways.”

Woodrow stomped his hoof. “What if I told you there was a way out, Susan? What if I told you that we could fix this mess was made of the world?”

“Lies.” Susan venomously hissed.

“Oh Susan, we do have a way out, but more importantly, we have a vision.”

“A beast like you couldn’t come up with a vision even if your life depended on it!” Susan spat at Woodrow’s hooves.

“Did I say it was my vision? No, it’s her vision.” Susan could feel a smile form behind Woodrow’s demonic mask.

“No...” Susan whispered with fearful doubt.

Woodrow confirmed her highest hope. “Twilight Sparkle is still alive.”

Susan remembered Twilight Sparkle.

She was the creator of the Gardens that Susan had guarded.

She was the one who had introduced Susan into this world of war in defense of the Gardens.

And she was the one who had a way to save everything... through the use of the Gardens of Equestria.

Woodrow stared at Susan for what seemed like ages, and finally said, “Now take my hoof, and let’s find redemption, together.”

Susan looked away from Woodrow and into the flames. Past the corpses of Virtus and Ladon, and past Nero’s melting armor, was a foal’s corpse. Susan stared into the molten eyes of a burning foal, and the foal stared back.

In that moment Susan realized that she was not a warrior -- she was the like the beasts in the flame; she was a monster.

Susan raised her left talon, gently latched onto Woodrow’s hoof, and accepted his pact.

Author's Note

“And she never lived happily ever after.” The Storyteller said softly and knowingly to both herself and her audience, which was now composed of the entirety of the caravaneers.

Some beat their hooves on the ground, others remained silent, but all of them were deep in thought as they processed the story they had just been told.

The caravan’s leader stood up and got even closer to the Storyteller. “Lady, Ah ain’t never heard a story quite like that but... well everypony (including mah foals) seems to like it, and Ah figured you and me could cut a deal. No caps fer a ride with us, just stories... so long as ya got some more.”

The Storyteller looked at the leader -- revealing an old, orange, and scarred face, complete with an eye patch on her right eye -- and said, “Oh yes, I have a great deal of stories and I would love to share them with anypony that will listen.”

“Well good to hear it then, ma’am. Ah gotta go tuck muh foals in ta bed now, but you have a goodnight y’hear?”

The Storyteller nodded -- unaware that the father had trotted away -- as she ruffled through her saddle. One of the saddle’s pockets tore, and a small green memory orb rolled out. The Storyteller magically latched onto the fluorescent orb and whispered, “Oh yes, I have great deal of stories to tell.”