Ain't No Rest

Chapters

The Ride
The Dream
The Incident
Welcome to Fillystone
The Story

The Ride

Yawning, I leaned against the window of the Celestia-forsaken bus that was shuttling me off to pony-knows-where. My ear lightly scraped against the window and I winced as the chipped glass nicked it, and while I couldn’t see it myself, I knew the crimson blood that I could feel drizzling down slowly stood out in stark contrast to my opalescent coat. Groaning in displeasure, a faint glow enveloped my horn as the blood floated off my coat, wrapped in the light blue of my magic. Grimacing, I let the blood fall to the floor, adding to year’s worth of stains and muck. Sighing in resignation, I knew that much worse potentially awaited me in the uncontrolled chaos that was Discord.

I glanced around the bus, my ears flicking slightly as the safety harness that I strapped myself into chaffed against my sides, and really started looking at my fellow riders. There were three of them, minus the driver. One of the passengers was a sandy-beige colored, pegasus pony with a short, grey mane riding up near the front. Tinted black goggles covered her eyes, and leather armor was strapped to her chest, underbelly, back, and upper legs. While the taste in style left something to be desired, I couldn’t argue with the functionality of it. It was light, sure, but that meant for unhindered movement (I noted with a wry smile that she had cut holes in front of each flank in her armor to allow her wings to unfold with ease), which was a pegasus’s greatest strength. Plus, the sniper rifle strapped across her back hinted that when the fighting came, she preferred to find the high ground and pick people off. Glancing out the window again, I felt slightly sorry for her preferred method. There wasn’t much high ground in the barren sands that continued to roll by. Glancing back to the pegasus, I revised my opinion as I spotted the…well, for lack of a better classification, sword, fastened underneath her sniper. Also, her unzipped duffel bag hinted at the various repeaters and revolvers she employed. Maybe she’d survive in close-quarters combat after all, I thought to myself with a smile.

My eyes swiveled to the quiet, well built earth pony, disregarding the safety harness and instead just sitting on the floor. His mane was a stark crimson color, standing out against the discreetness of his black coat. While observing him, I jumped when one of his eyes opened and looked directly at me. They were a piercing red, just like his mane, but he didn’t go wide eyed or seem insane, as I had seen with other ponies of that color of eye. The only thing he did was let a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth and allow a barely discernable shrug grace his shoulders as he closed his eye again. My mouth went agape as I just stared at him. Usually, people confronted me aggressively when they caught me staring. Though, then again, I thought wryly, he probably had the same problem. I did a double take when I observed his armor; a crimson horseshoe, much like the color of his eyes and mane, rimed by an olive branch of gold was stamped into the shoulder guard of his torso armor, and once again emblazoned on his left flank, right over the location of his cutie mark. My mind went a little numb as it only took a moment to register what that symbol represented. The Crimson Hooves? What they hay was this soldier doing on a bus if he’s part of the Crimson Hooves? However, as I looked over his belongings – saddle bags containing mediocre weaponry (a standard assault rifle and a few hundred rounds of ammo) and a hat, I found it less likely that he actually was part of the dreaded Crimson Hooves.

My attention finally turned to the last of the bus riders. Standing at the back of the bus, with little regard to the unspoken rule of “keep your hooves out of the isle”, was a bulky, beefy, larger-than-life earth pony, his grey coat insufficient to cover up the various scars he had no doubt acquired over a large span of time. One of the scars, a vicious cut mark right above his eyes, looked recent, and I cringed at the painful sight of it. His eyes were a deep green, which I hardly expected, and his closely cropped mane matched the color. I furrowed my brow at this – both of the earth ponies on the bus had color matching mane and eyes. No other earth pony I had met had any color of eyes that even resembled their color of mane, and yet here were two of them, acting as if it wasn’t special at all.

Wait.

Was I marveling at a coincidence?

…I must really be bored. Shaking my head and snapping out of my thoughts, I turned my attention back to the bulky pony. His jaw was set in a permanent grimace, as if something foul was continually stuck under his nose. With disdain (and no small bit of horror), I noticed what looked like…no…yes, it was a bloody dog paw. On a chain. Around his neck. My nose scrunched up and I had to look elsewhere to keep from vomiting. Hastily looking elsewhere, my eyes settled upon the standard looking shotgun strapped to his side. But that wasn’t what really grabbed my attention. As I followed the veins down his legs (seriously, this pony was built like a stable, and just him standing straight up was a testament to how strong his legs were), I noted that every single one of his muscles stood out like cords. And yet, this still isn’t what caught my attention. At the base of each of his hooves, he had what looked like steel plates bolted to the bottoms. And when I say steel plates, I’m not talking about simple horseshoes (I doubt anypony wore those anymore). I’m talking about inch-and-a-half steel plating that was literally bolted to his hooves.

“Hey.”

I jumped at the deep, gravelly voice. I looked right up into the eyes of the pony I’d been staring at. The grey earth pony was looking right at me with those dark green eyes of his.

“I know I’m pretty,” he continued, the smallest fraction of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “but you don’t see me staring at you, and you’re probably the strangest one on this bus. No offense.”

“N-none taken,” I stammered.

~*~*~*~*~

Of course, before I go any further, I should definitely warn you now to the nature of these recordings. Firstly, the device I used to record them was on constantly throughout my entire endeavor, only stopping briefly to change batteries (how archaic, right? What pony uses batteries these days?) and to save the recordings. There was no editing at all, so some…personal moments are likely to be included in my chronicles. Second, I eventually used these as a conduit for my personal thoughts and emotions, so I may seem insane sometimes. And insane can encompass a great many things.

Also, these recordings were thrown into a dimensional rift, so whoever you are and however you got a hold of this, I applaud you for simply not perishing in the act.

I guess I should detail myself to you as I detailed the occupants of the bus. My name is Genesis. Cool name, right? Meaning “the beginning”, left purposefully ambiguous to hint at great things to come, and containing these powerful undertones. Pretty cool, right?

Yeah. Cool name that absolutely didn’t fit my life. I was absolutely, painstakingly, horrendously normal. There wasn’t anything special about me at all. I was just a small, light grey unicorn with a dull blue mane. Hardly remarkable. My eyes were the only thing remarkable about me, being a solid gold color. However, living on a colonized wreck of a ship with so few ponies had its consequences, and my eyes soon marked me as an outcast. My parents did their best, you know? They sheltered me, fed me, and loved me (to an extent). But even they couldn’t stop the hatred from our little settlement.

If it had been a more populated city, I would have understood. If I had some horrible defect, or contagious disease, I would have understood. But apparently, the only reason my family and I were treated as outcasts is because I had unique eyes. Our home didn’t even have a proper name, it was that small. And they cast us out because of my eyes. Adorable, isn’t it?

I guess I should be thankful, though. You see, even though I was a mare, and mares at our settlement were expected to take care of the menial, day-to-day tasks at home, I was particularly gifted with repairs. Not gifted enough, mind you, to be graced with a cutie mark depicting my skill, but gifted enough that I could fix nearly anything once I reached sixteen years old. So the settlement leader begrudgingly came to our the room my family called “home” and offered to pay me to see if I could fix the output of fusion reactor core of the ship that the earth ponies so desperately relied upon.

Something worth noting: even though we were “outcast”, we had what I assumed the cargo hold to ourselves. It had long since been stripped of anything of value, and the settlement was mainly organized on the bridge. The bridge and the cargo hold were far enough apart to be considered isolated, but not far enough apart that we’d die or anything.

Another thing worth noting: I was the only unicorn on the settlement. My parents and the rest of the settlers were earth ponies, having been descendants of the crew that previously lived on the ship during the Great Race War fifty years prior to my birth. But my parents had told me that I was abandoned on the surface of the planet beneath, designated F7X-984. Apparently, the first people to discover it were miners, and by the time anypony else were to discover it, the miners had stripped the planet of any resources it held. It had been deemed uninhabitable due to the high concentrations of noxious gases on its surface, and the I.O.T.A (Interstellar Organization of the Treaty of All) couldn’t be bothered with it any more. My parents had praised Celestia (the goddess-princess, not the arms manufacturer), saying it was a miracle that I was even alive. It seems that, on occasion, scouting parties armed with the environment suits stowed away on the ship Hyponion travel down to the surface, scouring the wreckage for useful parts. It was then that they found the light grey unicorn filly wrapped in a blanket.

Anypony, back to the original story at hand. I accepted the offer, of course. The payment was in food, and what pony could turn that down? I gathered the tools I thought I would need and strapped on my saddlebags, telekinetically levitating the tools into the confines of the bags, and headed off to the reactor room, which was near the back of the ship. As I opened the doors to the reactor itself, my mouth fell open. How could the reactor even run in this state? The containment unit itself was cracked in several places, the pipes providing it with hydrogen were steadily shaking themselves loose, and the core itself made a hideous groaning sound every time a pony drew on its power. (Which, while I was down there, was quite often.)

I had just set my tools down when a hideous sound reverberated throughout the entire ship. WRRRRRRRTTCCHHHH. I looked around, panicking, as the room itself seemed to twist and pitch.

A flash of blinding white light appeared right next to the reactor core, not a meter from where I was standing, and ripped through the room.

I screamed, then there was nothing.

~*~*~*~*~

Shaking my head, mane flying everywhere, I snapped myself out of my momentary mental hiatus only to find that every pony on the bus was staring at me intently.

“What?” I bristled. The Crimson Hooves pony just chuckled and closed his eyes, the pony built like a barn just rolled his eyes, and the pegasus pony just goggled at me.

“WHAT?” I yelled, annoyed at not getting an answer the first time.

“Did you know your coat is sparking with electricity?” The pegasus shot back, less in awe and more irate now that I yelled at her.

“Oh…” I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut and willing the entropic activity in my coat to die down. It was only then I realized the intensity that I had been glowing, for when I opened my eyes again, the bus was notably darker, despite it being broad daylight.

“That’s one scary pony,” the pegasus murmured, shifting her sniper rifle as she situated herself, turning around to face the front. I fumed silently for a moment.

Scary?!

The Dream

I just sat there, fuming silently, considering the pegasus’s remark. I mean, I was a visually pleasing unicorn! My coat shined with all the colors of the rainbow in the sunlight, and my mane was an electric blue! And my eyes were still gold! How could I be scary?

The Crimson Hooves pony cleared his throat, glancing in my direction. With a start, I realized that I was positively glowing this time; so many sparks were running through my coat. With a sheepish grin, I toned down the light show, eliciting another small chuckle from the dark earth pony and a sigh from the barnyard. I felt my cheeks go red as I realized that sparking alone could be cause enough for someone to be afraid of me. I mean, how many unicorns in the galaxy spark with lethal doses of electricity?

BUMP.

Glad, for once, that I listened to my rational side and put my safety harness on, my eyes merely widened as the bus lurched off of the ground, only to come back down with a disorientating harshness.

I glanced back behind the bus and saw a sickening, bloody heap on the ground. Fearing that our driver had just run over somepony, I called out, “What did we just hit?” Anxiety got the better of me, and instead of my voice coming out like a mature 19 year old, it came out as a squeak.

The bus driver laughed. It was the first time I had heard his voice, and if I could visualize it, it would be a gold-plated bucket of grease. Sickeningly smooth with sheen over it that made it somewhat bearable to stomach.

“Fear not, my little pony. We didn’t run over anypony; or, at least, anypony important. Bahahahaha! Buuuuut seriously, all we ran over was a skag,”* the driver informed me.

“A skag?” I questioned, rolling the word around on my tongue. The Crimson Hooves pony just sighed, but I could see the questioning looks on the pegasus and the other earth pony as well.

“Yes, yes, a skag. A wild animal, native AND exclusive to Discord!” the driver whinnied with mock pride. “They’re like wild dogs,” he continued, and the grey earth pony noticeable jumped, “except three times as territorial, twice as ruthless, and infinitely more savage. Oh, did I mention the fact they have armored plating around their front haunches and face?”

Suddenly, my small SMG seemed woefully insignificant.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head off, mare,” the driver said, eyes flashing at me through the rearview. Obviously, my concern for my firepower showed in my face. “The skags you’ll find around Fillystone aren’t going to pose you any great threat. Of course, the farther your travels take you into our beloved Discord, you’ll find stronger foes. So, naturally, you’ll need to become stronger, and find better gear.” Raising his voice so that the other ponies could hear, he said, “That goes for all of you! If you think the equipment you have now is going to keep your alive long enough to find that precious Vault of yours, you’re not going to last long!”

“Alright, oh-so-wise bus driver,” the pegasus mare snorted. “If you know so much, then tell us, how do we accomplish such goals?”

I chuckled at that. The pegasus was spirited, and by the way she talked, she wasn’t much older than I was. She also had taken her goggles off, so I could clearly see her eyes. They were a striking, deep pink. I almost giggled at that. Almost. But something told me not to even so much hint at laughter around this pony.

“Don’t take that tone with me, missy,” the driver intoned gravely. “I’ve seen more foolish adventurers meet their end not a mile out of town because they didn’t have enough supplies, or weren’t strong enough to fight their enemy of choice, or their gun was a steaming pile of shit.

“So here is how it works on Discord. There are a lot of people needing help, see? Even in Fillydelphia, where we’re headed now, there are lots of honest ponies struggling against the odds just to survive. Anyway, all those ponies have jobs they need done. Discord is lacking in a governmental system, see? There is no order on Discord,” the driver had to stop for a second and chuckle at his unintentional pun.

“So they turn to ponies like you four. They offer up jobs in exchange for money, or a reward of some type for the completion of that job. It’s a simple process; you take the job, do it, then get paid. Plus, you get to feel good about helping out folk that couldn’t otherwise accomplish what you can. And the reward is usually worth it.

“Other than that, simply scavenging, or doing some raiding on bandit camps can yield a good reward. That takes balls, though, and usually strength. Also, simply being observant is crucial. Ponies leave stashes of ammo and money in all sorts of places. Dumpsters, safes, lockers, and even toilets,” the bus driver grinned. “And, of course, any bandit ponies you kill are bound to have some ammo and money on them.” My stomach churned at the thought. Even though I had steeled myself for the horrors I was sure to face on Discord (and no doubt commit some myself), my conscious and moral side abhorred harming another pony.

Suck it up, a little voice in my head chimed in, you’re this far already, are you going to turn and run now?

“Hey, unicorn.”

Startled out of my thoughts, I looked up.

“Over here.”

I glanced over at the dark earth pony. His crimson eyes were aimed towards me.

“Hi there,” I said tentatively.

“Hello. I’m Rhodan,” the pony introduced himself, sipping up his bag and scooting it next to me before plodding over. I shivered involuntarily.

“Hi Rhodan,” I said in a small voice, eyeing his insignia. He followed my gaze to his armor.

“Oh, don’t worry about this,” he said comfortingly, “I’m not part of the Crimson Hooves anymore.”

“Anymore?” I squeaked. “You quit?”

He eyed me carefully. “Let’s just say I didn’t like the direction the company was headed.”

“So, what, they just let you walk out?” scoffed the pegasus, clearly eavesdropping. “Forgive me if I don’t believe that the Crimson Hooves just let you walk out!”

“Oh, they didn’t let me walk out, you know,” Rhodan chuckled at the thought. “I had to shoot my way out. With this measly assault rifle,” he nudged the duffle bag with a hoof.

“Well, if it got you out of a Crimson Hooves base, it shouldn’t be that bad,” I pitched in. Rhodan chuckled again.

“No, I assure you, miss unicorn, it’s about as worthless as a steaming pile of slag. It’s fallen out of repair, I’m afraid, and it wasn’t very decent to begin with.”

“What make is it?” inquired the pegasus.

“It’s a Dahl. Surplus from the Great Race War.”

“Ouch,” replied the pegasus, “my sniper is a Jakobs. ‘If it took more than one shot, you weren’t using a Jakobs!”

The confusion I had on my face must have been apparent, because the next thing I knew Rhodan was whispering in my ear.

“Throughout the galaxy, there are ten prevalent gun manufacturing companies. First is, obviously, Celestia Weaponry; founder of the Crimson Hooves, and whatnot. Their guns are pretty easy to tell apart from the others, as they only use a white material, which the makeup is unknown except to the head honchos, and use a black detailer. Their weaponry has a greater power and magazine size than others. They also have smaller advantages in accuracy and fire rate. Gun collectors all firmly believe that Celestia guns are among the very best.

“The next manufacturer is Dahl. They were the main producer of guns for the earth ponies Great Race War and much can be chalked up to them for the earth ponies lasting as long as they did. Their guns are camouflaged in different patterns, and boast exceptional recoil reduction. Only problem is, they aren’t very accurate to begin with, so they had to compensate somewhere.

“Next up would be Hyponion,” he began, and I jumped a little. “What is it?”

“I grew up on a ship name Hyponion,” I mumbled. Rhodan raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I’ve never heard of such a ship.”

“It’s probably nothing,” I said, bowing my head toward the floor, scraping a hoof against the floor and instantly regretting it as a layer of filth instantly covered it.

Rhodan sighed and continued, “Hyponion weapons are usually strikingly red. They’re acclaimed for their high accuracy and recoil reduction. Beyond that, they keep to themselves. Rumor has it they broke off from Celestia Weaponry before the Great Race War, but it’s only a rumor. And I can say from experience that Hyponion weapons are some of the most reliable you can find.

“After them we have Jakobs,” Rhodan continued, and the pegasus’s chest puffed up with pride, “whose guns are always made of wood, instead of synthetics. They have no slots for any sort of modification, but have damn near the highest damage of any gun throughout the galaxy.” He snorted. “Personally, I never held any love for their guns, as all too often their meager magazine size killed some of my brothers in arms. They were busy reloading as our Vladof-armed opponents filled them with lead.

“Which segues nicely into our next company, Vladof. Vladof guns boast serious fire rate. However, accuracy, and recoil reduction suffer because of it, which makes me shy away from them as well. It doesn’t matter how fast you shoot if you can’t hit a damned thing. Their guns are usually orange with black detailing.

“Maliwan guns, on the other hand, are precise, quick to reload, and have all the slots a pony could ask for to upgrade their weapon. In fact, they have always included every single modification slot that’s available on all their weapons, making them a favorite of ponies who like to cut up their enemies with under barrel bayonets while setting them on fire OR melting them in acid OR electrocuting them OR making them explode into bits with ammo mods while looking through a scope and firing an extended magazine. Maliwan guns, well, you’ll know them when you find them.”

Did he even breathe through that monologue?

“Anypony, the next manufacturer is Tediore. They’re affectionately referred to as the ‘baby’ company in arms manufacturers, simply because their design is so simple. The quality suffers, sure, as none of its core attributes stack up to its competitors, but they’re cheap, accurate and quick to reload. In fact,” he added, glancing at my haunches, “I’d wager that Tediore made your little SMG there.” I glanced down to see if he was right, and sure enough, the Tediore logo was emblazoned on the stock of the weapon.

“I’d advise replacing that with something better when we make it to Fillystone,” Rhodan remarked. “Perhaps with an S&S Munitions SMG? With S&S, you have an extremely large clip that doesn’t suffer from accuracy or fire rate! The only problem is the difficulty in reloading,” Rhodan frowned, “and believe me when I say I’ve had that problem before. S&S guns are a trademark stark yellow, with, once again, black detail.”

Black detail again? Honestly, some ponies need to be more creative in their work.

“And the last of the bunch is Torgue, the biggest rival of Jakobs,” Rhodan continued, ignoring the jeers and “boo’s!” from the pegasus. The grey earth pony shifted slightly. I noted his shotgun was made by Torgue. “Torgue takes pride in their metal-synthetic blend, using it as a reason they’re better than Jakobs. And in their defense, they do have a much higher fire rate with power that almost rivals Jakobs themselves.” Rhodan frowned, “but, as usual, the major shortcoming of these weapons is their lack of accuracy. So you end up spraying a bunch of bullets everywhere.”

“Not like that matters for shotguns, little pony,” came the gravelly voice of the grey pony in the back.

“True enough,” conceded Rhodan.

Wait a minute…Celestia Weaponry, Torgue, Vladof, S&S Munitions, Tediore, Jakobs, Maliwan, Hyponion, and Dahl…that was only nine!

“You said there were ten weapon manufacturers,” I said, confused. “I only counted nine.”

Rhodan chuckled, “ah, miss unicorn, I forgot to mention the last one. Eridian weaponry isn’t manufactured, per se, but found. It’s among the rarest in the galaxy, and doesn’t use ammo at all; it uses an onboard energy cell that recharges itself. You’ll know one if you see one because of its silvery sheen and aerodynamic design. Very alien, very skillfully crafted, and very powerful.”

“You know a lot about Eridian weaponry,” the pegasus quipped. “Why is that?”

“Because, you see,” Rhodan grimaced, “My former commanding officer used to have one. And he used it on me a few times, as punishment for insubordination.”

“Insubordination? What the hay did you do?” I asked.

“I refused to kill colts and fillies.”

“Oh…”

“Now that you’re all filled in, miss unicorn, do you have any questions?” Rhodan asked politely.

I shook my head and smiled at him, “and please, just call me Genesis.”

~*~*~*~*~

After my tutorial to the basic gun manufacturers, and after groaning to the news that we were still a good 5 hours out of Fillystone, I undid my harness (the thing was chaffing like crazy!) and settled down in the hay next to Rhodan, trusting in him not to let me fly through a seat in the event of a crash. As the wheels turned and the silence on the bus resumed, I found myself drifting off to sleep…

…and my dreams were filled with guns. I was perusing through an old style weapon store, where weapons were shown under glass display cases, and saw nine weapons, each from a different manufacturer. I almost asked the nameless, shapeless store pony where I could find Eridian weaponry, but remembered that those were so unheard of that I would probably just get strange looks.

“Genesis.”

I jumped a good foot in the air. My name was being called by a voice I could not describe to you. It was a voice that wove itself into my ears and made small fireworks blossom behind my eyeballs.

“Genesis, look up.”

I had no choice but to obey. That voice was so compelling, so intriguing, there was just no refusing it. So I looked up, the weapon store dissolving to a static white around me.

And there, hovering in front of me was the most beautiful mare I had ever seen. Her coat was a midnight blue, and her cutie mark was a crescent moon that I only read about in books. It was against a backdrop of pure black, and her cutie mark was duplicated by a decorative necklace she wore, which was made out of a pure black material.

But that wasn’t even the most glorious thing.

Her tail and her mane were a flowing carpet of stars; her horn was sharp, lethal, sexy, and many other adjectives. And her wings were spread apart, one wing easily as long as I was.

And she had both a horn and wings. Which only made her one thing; an alicorn.

“Genesis, you must listen to me,” the alicorn spoke softly, but I was compelled to fall to my knees as her voice graced my ears. “When you get to Fillystone, you will be tempted to not leave the bus. Refuse the temptation, and step off the bus. You will be greeted almost instantly by a funny little robot. Do everything he says.

“Who I am is not important. What is important is that you trust me. I know I haven’t done anything to earn that trust, but my advice will help keep you alive. I’m here to help you search for the Vault, and I will do everything in my power to help you find it.

“My time is short, and I must go. Just remember, my little pony, I will be watching. And know that you go forth with my guidance and protection.”

“Of course,” I found myself whispering as I opened my eyes. Rhodan looked at me curiously, while the pegasus and the other earth pony had drifted off into sleep. I just looked up at Rhodan sheepishly and smiled. “It’s nothing.”

The Incident

Blinking blearily, I rubbed a hoof against my eyes. According to Rhodan, I had been out for a respectable four hours. Doing some seriously impressive mental math, I realized that we only had a measly hour left, give or take a few minutes. My gut wrenched as I remembered the beautiful alicorn that had appeared to me in my dream.

“You will be tempted to stay on the bus. Resist this temptation…” her words, at the time, seemed unimportant, as absorbed as I was in her grand appearance. Now, they just made my stomach do uncomfortable acrobatics as my overactive imagination conjured forth images of promised riches in the town after Fillystone. Or perhaps the entire town would just explode, and I would be frightened into just cowering on the bus. I felt my face burn in embarrassment as I realized it wasn’t too far from the truth. And despite my armor, cobbled together with the last vestiges of money I had, and my as-of-yet untested SMG at my side, I still didn’t feel like a mighty Vault hunter. Panic levels within my brain began to mount as I feared that Discord would be a trial by fire, effectively baptizing me in the flames of my own demise.

The only thing that could potentially be my salvation, I figured, was the one thing that I knew only I possessed. And I knew I exclusively had this because I was the only one left alive after the Hyponion exploded.

~*~*~*~*~

I groaned, every single muscle of my body screaming as if it were on fire. It was the only thing, I think, that had jolted me out of my stupor. As I regained coherency, I realized that all I could see was blackness.

Was I dead?

As I groaned again, I thought that there was no way in hell that death could hurt this much. But this realization did nothing to stymie my fears of being permanently blinded. I raised a panic hoof to my face, ignoring my body’s screaming protest. I expected to feel some malformation, a deformity that had somehow rendered me blind.

Instead, I merely found out my eyes were closed.

Hitting myself internally, I struggled to open my eyes. The sight that greeted me when I finally managed the task was not a welcome one. I was amidst the blowing red dust that was trademark of the toxic planet below the Hyponion.

The Hyponion!

I jumped up, panicked, and cast my eyes around. Then the lightheadedness hit me as the world paled and took on an electric blue-green tint. I gasped, realizing that my brain had simply told me the dust should be red, and what I was actually seeing was swirling blue-green dust that looked like it belonged in a rave.

Not only that, but time seemed to move at a crawl. As a plume of dust blew past my face, I realized that I could count each individual particle. I was dumbfounded, to say the least. Maybe I was dead, and had managed to remain so neutral in all of my interactions that I was in limbo.

Banish the thought, a nagging voice in my head told me, you aren’t quite dead yet.

Scowling, (who was this voice and where did it come from?) I nervously pawed the ground, and then did a double take. My body was…well, it wasn’t gone, but it was….

Corporeal. I looked like a ghost, for lack of a better term. I was outlined with a light blue glow, everything else was simply gone. Transparent.

It felt like ice water had been poured into my horn by the gallon, and slowly trickled its way into my hooves. I felt frozen. Slowly, tentatively, I lifted a hoof and waved it in front of my face. The wind from the motion was the only sensation of feeling I had.

Well, at least I wasn’t dead.

KKKRRRRRSHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A terrifying noise tore through my state of mental shock. Panicked energy flowed into me, as I desperately looked around to find the source of the sound. I saw nothing.

You’re not a clever pony. Look up!

Irritation at the new voice was minute compared to the pure fear I had when complied. Hurtling towards me was what looked like the main engine component off of the Hyponion. And there wasn’t near enough time for me to scramble out of the way.

I closed my eyes and sent a prayer to Celestia, hoping that, wherever she was, she would usher me on my way to a brighter place than this.

CRUNCH

My entire body stiffened at the sickening sound of the metal collapsing on itself, warping and twisting into what I knew would be an unrecognizable mess.

Wait.

I just had a thought.

That means…I’m not dead?

Taking a chance, I opened my eyes and looked around. Had I been in a perfectly normal state, the sight before me probably would have driven me to insanity. Or, at least, alcoholism.

I was standing inside the twisted, white hot metal husk. I couldn’t believe it. Space junk, falling from the heavens, had failed to kill me. Maybe I had been dead the entire time.

You’re such a foal. Get out of the wreckage now.

I whimpered softly, my legs moving to obey even as my tired mind processed the thought of walking.

I walked (or maybe the correct term is ghosted?) through the wreckage, finding myself standing outside, back to the swirling green-blue mist. Gathering what strength I had leftover (weariness hit me with the force of a brick wall), I raised my eyes skyward to determine where the junk had come from.

Instead, the sight that my eyes beheld was a swirling, twisting vortex, the exact same color of blue that I was at the time, except this vortex was outlined in a color I can only describe as pitch black.

Oh, and congratulations on your cutie mark.

That voice…was so…annoying…

My legs suddenly decided that standing was no longer on their list of things to do, and as the ground rushed up to greet me, I couldn’t help but think, what cutie mark?

~*~*~*~*~

“Genesis.”

Go away, Dad.

“Genesis.”

Dad, I said go away! I’m tired!

“GENESIS!!!”

“WHAT?” I screamed, leaping to my feet and expecting to confront my father. Instead, I met the crimson eyes of Rhodan, containing within them a worried look.

“You were muttering and whimpering in your sleep,” he informed me, voice dropping down to conversation level.

“I fell asleep again?” I looked about hurriedly. Same bus, same chipped windows, same disgusting floor.

“Yes, you practically passed out with that worried look on your face,” Rhodan’s own face was practically wiped clean of any trace of worry, and went back to neutral. “I imagined you were exhausted, which is why I didn’t wake you until now.”

“How long was I asleep for this time?” I asked.

“Just over half an hour,” he replied casually.

Eep. There was only half an hour left until that dreaded moment.

“Ouch!” Rhodan jumped, then put a hoof to a singed patch of mane on his flank.

“What? What happened?” I jumped to my own feet, glancing down at the hay for any sign of fire.

“You happened!” Rhodan replied, glaring at me. “Turn the light show down!”

Oh. My worry got the best of me, and I was sparking a bit. I willed the sparks back into my coat and trotted over to my original seat. The pegasus snickered at me while the grey earth pony in the back rolled his eyes.

It just occurred to me that I didn’t know either of their names. But it didn’t seem to matter at this point, since I was going to be stepping off this bus in a matter of minutes anyway.

Sighing in resignation, I levitated my saddle bags in front of me, opened them, and began to take stock of what I had. It was pathetic, to say the least. I had barely a hundred rounds of ammo, a few measly cans of carrots, and a knife.

A kitchen knife, no less.

Growling, I unceremoniously threw my saddle bags back on and fumed for a while at my own stupidity. What the hell did I think I was doing here? I was minimally armed, and had rations for maybe three days. Three days eating the absolute minimum to stay alive.

I didn’t even know how to fight effectively.

Oh, sure, levitating the gun and pulling back the trigger is easy. In fact, it’s child’s play. But if I attempted it, bullets would just fly everywhere, hitting everything except my target.

Because that was an effective way of defeating enemies, right?

Not only that, but as I was thinking about what the bus driver said about raider ponies, the more I came to fear that I would end up facing another pony in battle. Even if that pony was dead set on my blood watering the ground and stringing up my carcass like a twisted trophy, I’m not sure if I could stomach killing another pony. Skags were a different matter, of course, but other ponies…

“Alright, time to wake up!” the driver yelled unnecessarily. We all glared at him as he continued. “We’re heeeere. Welcome to Fillystone!”

Welcome to Fillystone

Fillystone. My stomach did a back flip as I looked out the window to see the weather-worn neon lit sign proclaiming “Fillystone: A Place of New Beginnings!” Around the base of the sign was what looked like an old gas station. I suppressed a shudder. Did they really still use petroleum-based machinery?

No…it looked like the station had long since rusted over from disuse. I sighed in relief. Petroleum was volatile, even in the best of situations.

The pegasus pony snorted. “This place is a dump.” I almost nodded in agreement. The only thing I could see from my little window was the old station and a big, rustic gate. Other than that, it was a large, expansive wasteland.

“Ah, I can see why you would say that, my young friend,” the driver grinned and put the bus into park. “But the actually town of Fillystone is behind that impressive gate you see there, to keep…ah…undesirables out of the good town. You understand, right?”

The pegasus rolled her eyes, mumbling something that vaguely sounded like, “You’re not my friend, greasy.” Rhodan chuckled.

The driver stretched and jovially inquired, “Alright, who’s getting off the bus?”

Rhodan quietly zipped up his duffel bag, slung it over his back, and plodded forward. “I will be. Thanks for the lift,” he said quietly, nodding at the bus driver.

“My pleasure, good man! My pleasure. Throw in a good word for me with the Crimson Hooves, eh?” the driver smiled and nudged Rhodan on the shoulder. Rhodan just scowled and hopped off the bus.

“Yeah, I guess I’m getting off this bus, too!” the pegasus pony stretched her wings and bounded down the stairs, landing with a dusty plop on the ground. Turning back to the driver, she yelled, “Yo holmes, smell ya later!” The driver facehoofed, but I could see a grin spreading underneath.

“Anyone else?”

The big grey earth pony glanced around, and then slowly walked forward, the steel of his horseshoes clanking on the floor with every step he took, his flanks rippling with huge muscles.

I gingerly tucked my hooves underneath myself, for fear of them getting crushed by the massive earth pony.

He didn’t say a word as he passed the driver. He just nodded and slowly climbed down the steps. The bus shifted upwards as the massive weight finally left the axles.

And then I was alone.

The driver looked at me expectantly. “Will you be getting off as well, little lady?” I grimaced at his tone. “There won’t be another stop for a while, you know. We’ll be headed to the next interplanetary station after Fillystone. So if you were looking to leave the planet, that would be a good place to do it. Although…” he looked at me with knowing eyes, “if you WERE looking to leave Discord, I don’t think I would have picked you up at the last station, would I have?”

I felt my stomach churn, my meager lunch of packaged carrots threatening to resurface.

“So, are you going to dare the wastes, to risk life and limb and seek your fortune? To claim fame that should be yours?” the drivers voice rose up to a crescendo as he listed all these things, then dropped back down as he barely whispered, “or are you going to get cold feet at the last second?”

As if his words sparked something, I could instantly feel soft feathers wrap around my body, and a warm presence against my flank.

Strength…

I stood up tall, throwing my bag across my back. “I think I’ll get off here. Thanks for the ride.”

The driver smiled approvingly, and then laughed in his usual tone. “No problem at all! And don’t worry about saying goodbye. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon enough.” I nodded, making my way to the front of the bus. The driver glanced around and whispered, “also, watch your back. Now get off my bus!” And, with that parting exclamation, he turned around and literally bucked me off the bus.

A thousand ways to torture him flashed through my mind before I landed unceremoniously in a dusty heap. Spitting out the dirt, I whirled around, about to tell the driver off, but the bus had since roared to life again, and was now booking it’s way out of the little station like there was no tomorrow.

Was he INSANE?

I glared at the pegasus pony, who had been snickering at me the entire time. “What’s so funny?” Dust flew off of my mane as I spoke.

That made the pegasus lose it. She collapsed in her own dusty heap, shaking with laughter. “You…white…brown dirt…hahahHAHAHA!!!”

Glaring, I shook my mane, an inordinate amount of dirt flying off and coating a nearby Rhodan, who shot me a dirty look and started shaking himself. The grey earth pony nearby just rolled his eyes.

“See ya next time!” a little mechanical voice cheerily called out after the bus. I looked around, trying to identify the source, and my eyes settled on a little purple robot, fashioned in the shape of what looked like a full grown lizard on two legs. Green metal spikes lined its back all the way from its head to its tail as it motored around on wheels underneath its feet.

“Hello!” it said, wheeling up to the four of us. “I am 5P1K3 model designation 130T. You can call me by my locally designated name, Spike-Bot! Before we begin, please accept these ECHO communication devices and Heads-Up display, provided free of charge by the Dahl corporation!” the lizard-robot-thing opened its mouth and, one by one, eyepiece devices were expelled into the open hands of the robot.

I saw Rhodan’s eyebrows shoot up, an appreciative look in his eyes. “Provided by Dahl, huh? What do they have to do on Discord?”

“Dahl owned the mining operation here on Discord! They were resolute in providing an ECHO device to every single person that came through here!”

His words sent an inadvertant chill down my spine. “Owned? What happened to the operation?”

“After hideous reports of death and dismemberment from unknown causes, combined with increased skag and local bandit attacks, Dahl decided it was in their best interest to shut down the operation and withdraw its assets!” the robot cheerily replied. Rhodan nodded sagely, the big grey earth pony shrugged (I made it a priority to learn all of their names after this was over so I could stop referring to them as such), and the pegasus pony and I just exchanged barely worried glances. What were we getting in to?

I levitated the offered device up to my eye, settling it over my left and wedging the audio bud into my ear firmly. Despite the eyepiece only being over one eye, I could clearly see the boot up cycle commence, as if I was looking through glasses instead of just an eyepiece. I voiced this observation to the robot.

“The blend of magic and technology in these devices allows you to always be notified of the current conditions of almost everything concerning you!” the robot replied. “A device similar to glasses was among the first of designs, but it became cumbersome to look down the sights of a mining laser, so an eyepiece was developed instead!”

I shot a glance at the pegasus to see a smug look on her face. She was undoubtedly glad to have free reign to look down the sights of her sniper rifle.

Looking at the three, I noticed that they were all having a bit of trouble fastening their eyepiece on the way I did. Rhodan was struggling fruitlessly to fasten it on with his hooves, the other earth pony just held it in his teeth, looking helpless, and the pegasus was just looking at it. I could imagine the gears slowly turning in her mind.

Smiling, I trotted over to Rhodan first. “Would you like some help?”

He glanced up at me, smiling, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

A soft, blue light enveloped the ECHO device in Rhodan’s hooves as I levitated it up to his eye, taking care not to poke him or cause him discomfort. I nestled the bud into his ear and, adjusting the eyepiece until a satisfied look came over his face, I stepped back. He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” I replied, trotting over to the big earth pony. I opened my mouth to offer my assistance when a beige blur flashed in front of me. Rubbing my eyes, I saw the pegasus pony standing right in front of me, ECHO communicator in her mouth as she glared in my direction.

“Mm firf!” I shot an apologetic look at the big earth pony. He rolled his eyes and shrugged.

I levitated the device out of the pegasus’s mouth and fastened it to her eye (I noted with mild interest that she had discarded her dark goggles, and her eyes were a sharp pink color) and ear in the same fashion that I did with Rhodan. A satisfied smile appeared over the pegasus’s mouth as the display kicked to life. “Thanks!” she said, offering a hoof out. I looked at it in confusion. Did she actually want me to shake her hoof?

An irritated look flashed across her eyes. “I’m Ricochet,” she said, hoof falling back to the ground, “and I’m the best sniper pony in the system!”

“That’s a big title to claim,” Rhodan said, plodding over. “How do you know you’re the best shot?”

“Because of my cutie mark, obviously,” Ricochet replied in a scathing voice. “You don’t see many ponies with something like this, do you?” She waved her flank in front of Rhodan’s face. His nose wrinkled, but I could tell that he was impressed. I wandered around to look, and saw that Ricochet had a crosshair mark of pure gold stamped into her flank.

I opened my mouth to ask exactly how she got that, but I was interrupted by an ahem.

I glanced over and smiled sheepishly. I totally forgot that I had left the big earth pony with his communicator in his mouth. I levitated the device up to his eye and fastened it in the manner I did the other two, and saw him nod.

“Since we’re doing introductions,” the deep, gravelly voice emanated, “I’m Cinder.”

“Cinder?” Ricochet scoffed. “As in the thing left over by a fire?”

“No,” Cinder shot back, “as in the block you’ll think was dropped on your head if I accidentally step on you.”

I rolled my eyes. Was I in a group filled with sarcastic asses?

“Please, everypony! Follow me!” the little robot piped up again, turning around and wheeling away toward the large gate.

I glanced around at the others. Shrugging, I plodded off after the Spike-Bot, tail whipping back and forth to keep the dust off. My ears flicked around to the other pair of hooves I picked up following me. I glanced to my right and noticed Rhodan had fallen into step to my right. I smiled and nodded. As I looked toward the front, I studied what my HUD was telling me.

In the lower right hand bar, I had my vital signs and overall health.

HEART RATE: 36 BPM

BREATHING: REGULAR

DISEASES: NONE

OVERALL HEALTH RATING: EXCELLENT

Well, that was good news, at least. I was in perfect health for whatever monstrosities were awaiting me out there. In the bottom left corner was my ammo display. I noted that it didn’t have a category, and I knew that all the different types of guns used different types of ammo. So I assumed that the ammo display was solely for the gun I currently held. I marveled at the science that went into making this, and the skillful magic that recognized the type of gun I had to display something like that. There was also a compass of sorts that was at the top of my vision. It displayed cardinal direction, and identified four blue dots. Three of the dots had names above them. “Rhodan”, “Ricochet”, “Cinder”.

Huh. Did the ECHO device pick up on brainwaves? I don’t know how else it could recognize names…

Shrugging off the mystery, I resumed my observation. Other than the meters indicated, nothing else seemed to be additional. I shrugged mentally. What was I expecting, an auto-targeting spell?

Nickering softly at my foalish expectations, I trotted over to the tall, thin tower that the Spike-Bot had stopped in front of.

“Well,” Rhodan said as the two of us stopped in front of the tower. I looked around. Where did the other two go? Then I spotted Cinder casually trotting towards us.

“What in the hay does this thing do?” a familiar annoying voice chimed in from right above me.

I jumped. “Holy alicorn orgies!” (Did that oath really just come out of my mouth?) I yelled, “Ricochet, how long have you been up there?

I never got my reply. My flavorful curse had sent her into another one of those laughing fits.

“Uggh…” I grimaced for what seemed like the millionth time as I glanced at Rhodan. He looked like he was fighting back a grin.

“You too?” I shot him an accusing look. He just shrugged helplessly.”

Cinder trotted up, clearing his throat. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing except little miss lightning swearing like a sailpony,” Ricochet commented, wiping tears away from her eyes. “Anyway, let’s get this show on the road. I’m dead bored.”

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the Spike-Bot.

“If I could have your attentions, please come forward and press your hooves, talons, or other various limbs to this pad so we can register your identity!” the Spike-Bot said in his ever cheerful tone.

“Register us? What for?” I asked.

“Registering is a relatively quick and painless process, and it will allow you to interact with the various merchant outlets across Discord! It also has the convenient feature of sending a condolence letter and flowers to any family you specify if you meet with a horrific end!”

Blinking at the last few words, I shrugged and put my hoof to the pad. An instant, lancing pain shot through my hoof. It felt like needles were being drilled into my bone. My nerves all screamed in unison, until my brain decided enough was enough and shut off everything.

I collapsed into a pile. “Ow,” I said weakly. Rhodan looked at me with a hint of worry, Cinder whinnied slightly, and Ricochet rounded on the Spike-Bot. “Relatively painless?!”

“Of course!” the Spike-Bot said with his usual unwavering cheeriness. “As a non-organic being, the discomfort I feel in my circuits is marginal! Relatively painless! And it is not part of my programming to understand or empathize with how you organic beings feel!”

“Of all the…” Ricochet threw her hooves in the air, wings flapping furiously.

“However, there is good news!” the Spike-Bot continued. “Now that one of you is registered with the Mass Commercial Network, or MCN for short, you all have the privilege of trading and bartering with any of the fine establishments across Discord!”

“F-fabulous,” I manage to force out. Of course I would be the only one to go through that.

“Well, I already planned on sticking with the lady here,” Rhodan’s voice cut through the pain in my head like a thin veil of fabric. “So if you two are going to go your own separate ways,” he gestured to the pad, “be my guest and get registered.”

“Uh…yeah! I planned on sticking with you guys, too!” Ricochet smiled brightly. “After all, you need my skill with the gun!”

I wanted to take the part of me that agreed with her and quash it into oblivion. The part was, unfortunately, very large…

Cinder sighed. “I guess I’m in, too. But I don’t trust any of you,” he added, glaring at us.

Rhodan glared back. “Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.”

“H-hey, guys…” I stammered weakly, “You mind helping m-me up?

~*~*~*~*~*~

After we all agreed that I would be the only one getting registered, (they agreed, I could only weakly nod. Celestia be damned, what did they use to register me?) we continued toward the rustic gate.

“I’m FINE,” I insisted for the seventh time, trying to get my wobbly hooves underneath me. “I just need to get moving again.”

Rhodan just nickered at me. “If you say so. I won’t be there to catch you if you fall again, though.”

I shot him a look and inhaled deeply. I would stand on my own this time. I was NOT a weak pony. Or, at least, I was not a pony who lacked foalish pride.

We had arrived at the entrance gate, one fall and one embarrassing dust-off later.

“Have no fear of the gate, everypony!” the Spike-Bot said. “I’m exactly 92.5% percent sure I can get it to open! Also, don’t try to levitate yourself or fly over the gate, unless you want to get shot out of the air and slowly burn to death by the town’s incineration cannons!”

Incineration cannons? I had never heard of such a thing. Still, they sounded lethal.

“Aaaaaannd….open!!!” The Spike-Bot furiously hit a bunch of buttons on a knee-high keypad, causing the gate to give a horrendous screech as it slowly opened.

VRRRRRRRRRRR……

The Spike-Bot froze. My ears twitched toward the distant rumbling sound that was reverberating from somewhere beyond the mound of rocks that formed a natural wall against the gate. Glancing around, I saw that my unlikely companions had done the same, curiosity sparking in their eyes.

VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR……

Wow, it was sure getting close. You really aren’t a clever pony, are you? Argh, not now, annoying voice. I’m trying to pay attention…

VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOM!!!!

Four vehicles I had never seen before went flying over the wall like a giant ramp, and then landed on the other side of the yet-unopened gate that was still protesting with a rusty loudness to opening. Menacing looking guns were mounted on the tops of each of them, and one of them had opened fire upon a nearby fuel container. Wait, so they DID use petroleum?

The resounding explosion as the container combusted answered that question for me quickly. I could hear maniacal laughing as the vehicles drove off, some of the passengers jumping out and landing on the ground, pulling out pistols, shotguns and SMG’s, holding them in their mouths and still managing to look ferocious.

“Lock and load, gentleponies,” Rhodan sounded grim as he shoved a clip into his assault rifle lying on the ground. “These guys don’t look friendly.”

Ricochet grinned, pulling out a strange-looking hook thing with a leather hoofband on it and attached it to her right hoof. Rhodan picked up his assault rifle in his mouth and aimed it experimentally. Cinder did the same. I looked at them all in wonder. How they managed to pull a trigger without magic was beyond me, but they did it. Somehow.

Levitating my gun in front of me, I was struck by a few worried thoughts. The first thought was that I hadn’t really used magic in a long time, so any sort of aggressive spells were out of the question. I’d have to really, really practice hard in order to get something like that up and running in such a short time. The second is I wasn’t a really talented marksman. I was going to end up spraying a lot of bullets everywhere if I wasn’t careful. And, judging from the little number in the lower right hand corner of my HUD (30/70), I wouldn’t be able to shoot for very long before I ran completely dry. The last though I had was that, due to my weakened physical state, I wouldn’t be able to use my talent without fading into nothing.

All of those thoughts vanished as a single bullet whizzed through my mane, a few electric blue hairs falling to the ground. I looked up to see an earth pony grinning at me wildly, an insane fire in his eyes, and a ruddy red repeater pistol firm in his jaw. He was dressed in bloody patches of leather armor, multiple bullet holes riddling the various patches. Judging from his physical fitness, I found it safe to guess that he had killed several other ponies and patched their armors together.

Then his head exploded.

It was like a train wreck. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. A fountain of red liquid was spurting out of the hole in his neck, exactly where his head used to be, as the ponies hooves wobbled, then the entire body collapsed, crimson blood pooling up around him.

I looked at the sight, too intrigued to look away and too horrified to vomit. I had never seen a pony meet such a violent end before. And, in a brief moment of weakness, I wished to never see it again.

“Get your head out of the clouds, Genesis!” Ricochet, pulling back the bolt of her sniper yelled at me through a haze of gunfire that had opened up between the two sides. “Believe it or not, we COULD use an extra gun!”

I nodded, knees wobbling slightly. These are ponies that will shoot at you soon as look at you, the little annoying voice reminded me. You can’t afford to show mercy right now.

Steeling my resolve, I aimed down the sights of my SMG at the nearest earth pony dressed in raider garb. My mind, dull as it was, registered that my ECHO device was classifying my enemy as nothing more than a “Raider”. The holographic name hovered right above my targets head.

Oh, I get it. De-pony-ize them, make them objects. Easier to kill, right?

“Shut UP!” I grunted, squeezing a few bursts of fire out of my SMG. The smug look on the raiders face froze as he fell, five bullet holes dripping blood from his chest.

I felt cold all over. Now I had killed a pony.

A roar resounded through the area. I looked and saw Cinder literally buck a pony high enough into the air that the previously unnoticed incendiary cannons tore through him. He was dead before he hit the ground, his flaming body filling the air with a wretched stink.

It was at this point my body decided it was an appropriate time to vomit. As I emptied the contents of my stomach to the ground, a shadow fell over me. Reflexively, I swung my SMG up to face the offending pony, only to find Rhodan covering me with his body, firing accurate bursts into the raiders, felling three of them with carefully aimed shots. I glanced up to see Ricochet perched on a house (or was it a shack? It was so ramshackle that I couldn’t begin to classify it any other way). Every shot she took was another dead bandit. And finally, Cinder was tearing through their ranks, shotgun blazing. Every shot of his boomstick ended in a wonderfully gory dead raider.

Wonderfully? I thought the notion of this whole thing made you sick.

As true as that was, Cinder was a glorious sight. Bandits he couldn’t shoot he just bucked into the air and let the turrets take care of them. The few that didn’t get bucked into the air were stomped against the ground, breaking limb, shattering ribs, and (in the case of one very unlucky pony), collapsing his skull against Cinder’s powerful, steel-reinforced hooves.

The entire thing was over in about a minute.

I got to my unsteady feet, leaning against Rhodan for support. Cinder was busy scraping the brains off of his hooves, his nose wrinkled in disgust (the sight of which made me vomit profusely), and Ricochet had already slung her sniper rifle onto her back and glided down to stand with us.

“For a newbie, you weren’t too bad of a shot,” Rhodan said amicably.

“Yeah, when you weren’t puking your guts up,” Ricochet snorted. “Still, you did alright.”

“Just make sure you toughen up as we go,” Cinder had calmly trotted over. “You’re as green as my eyes.” Which, to his credit, were pretty damn green.

Everyone laughed at that, at my expense. I felt my face get hot as I blushed. Guess it was no secret I wasn’t combat-proficient. I merely shrugged, physically weakened by the days events. (Which all happened inside of an hour.)

Then my legs decided, once again, that standing was overrated. I collapsed into a dusty heap for the second time today, and, as the world slowly faded to black, I felt myself lifted carefully and draped over somepony’s back, and I heard the gravelly tones of Cinder say, “Poor girl.”

Footnote: Level Up!

Action Skill Unlocked: Phase Trot

Due to the mysterious happening in your past, you can now officially use your Phase Trot! This allows you to slip through the rift in dimensions, granting you the ability to move at incredible speeds while time is slowed to a crawl. You will also appear invisible to enemies, and, upon entering and exiting Phase Trot, you will cause a small electrical explosion that has a chance to electrocute enemy ponies around you or drain their shields. Due to the physical exertion required, however, you can only maintain this for 15 seconds.

The Story

So, you want to hear a story, eh? One about...treasure hunters? Haha! Have I got a story for YOU!

"Discord. This is our home. But make no mistake, this is not a planet of peace and love! They say that it's a wasteland, that it's 'dangerous', that only a foal would search for something of value here. Then perhaps...I am a foal.

"But do not be fooled by what Discord appears to be. There was a legend, maaaaaaany ponies tell it. The legend of the Vault! My father would always go on about the Vault, even to his dying breath. Advanced alien technology. Infinte wealth. Fame. Power. Mares...So you can understand why a couple of little fillies and colts who hear the stories grow up to become Vault Hunters.

"I have a story you may not believe, but I tell you, it IS true! The legend of the Vault is real, and it is here, on Discord! And a...ah...let's call it a guardian alicorn appeared to guide the Vault Hunters to their prize.

"The tale begins here, on Discord, with the brave Vault Hunters, the guardian alicorn, and, most importantly...me."