Solanum

Chapters

Act 0, Part 1- Octavia: The Grass Isn't Always Greener...
Act 0, Part 2- Scribbler: Between The Devil...
Act 0, Part 3- Twilight Sparkle: When Your Best...
Act 1, Part 1- Octavia: Humanity

Act 0, Part 1- Octavia: The Grass Isn't Always Greener...

The small fire crackled and hissed quietly at the two girls. The shadows that the meager amount of light cast danced back and forth in the dark, locked in an eternal waltz. The shadows seemed happy, care-free from the world around them, lost in the music only they could hear. Octavia wished she could hear their tune, lose herself in the soft flow of the notes. Both her and Vinyl stared into the small fire, lost in thought and silenced by a sad quiet that claimed both their voices. It was as though they were both under the same spell.

Most nights were spent this way, in silence and staring at the fire. It wasn't safe to travel at night, because... they could always find you, but you could never find them. Octavia shuddered slightly at the thought of the... monsters. She held her knees a little closer to her chest as the small flames so gracefully danced with one another. This feels like a nightmare... She thought to herself. So why haven't I woken up yet? She wished she would now.

Vinyl looked over to Octavia and opened her mouth to try and break the interminable silence, but a soft crash in the other room silenced her. Octavia's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. Vinyl silently rose and grabbed the handle of her baseball bat. The once sleek wood was now depressed in some areas and the once rich-brown wood was now dull and stained a sickly red in places. Vinyl raised the bat to a swing position and stood next to the doorway, ready to swing at whatever shambled through.

Shuffling feet could be heard in the other room, shallow breaths being breathed by the mystery figure. Their breathing sounded like a empty spray paint can being rattled around. They let out a soft moan, one that chilled Octavia's blood. Vinyl tightened her grip around her bat and tensed her muscles. The figure moved into view.

They looked like they would have been a male at some point. His lips were all but gone, the blood-caked and yellow teeth lining his slack jaw. His eyes held a lifeless stare that went forever, never ending or focusing on something. A deep red semi circle was plastered on his neck, the other half of the bite mark out of Octavia's sight. He held his arms out slightly as he shambled for the door. Once he entered, his lifeless gaze fell on Octavia. His arms raised fully and he opened his mouth, ready to unleash his hellish moan. Octavia's heart skipped a beat before beating fast and hard.

With a sickly Crack!, Vinyl brought the bat forward and into his face before he could make a sound. The wood smashed him right in his nose, the sound of bone crunching slightly heard. His head snapped back and he stumbled before falling on his back. A weak moan came from him while Vinyl disappeared into the room in which he fell and another Crack! sounded. A weak hiss of breath was heard before one last Crack! silenced him. Vinyl walked into the room, the bat coated in fresh crimson and a grim frown on her face. She set it down to lean against the wall a few feet from her and sat down again, staring into the fire.

Octavia's eyes never left their position from when they locked with the now-dead man's. In her mind, the bat smashing into his face played on a slow-motion replay, each bloody moment captured in high-definition, every drop of blood and bit of bone crystal-clear. Tears streaked down her cheeks and silent sobs moved her body. Vinyl moved over to her, sitting down next to her and wrapping her arm around her to pull Octavia into a sideways hug. Octavia turned and leaned into it, her quiet cries shaking her body while Vinyl slowly rubbed her back and stroked her hair.

The flames and shadows never ceased in their dance, the music beautiful.

\_/ /-\ \_/

Octavia and Vinyl had been surviving this way for almost a month. When everything went to Tartarus, the two friends had found themselves on the edge of Ponyville playing baseball with some of their friends to try and forget about the odd sickness that was plaguing the country. Well, Vinyl was playing and Octavia was watching, both enjoying the normality of the game. When the first person stumbled towards the group from the direction of town, then another, then three others, both Octavia and Vinyl knew that life just became anything but normal. Some of their friends panicked and ran, dropping anything they might have been holding. Some simply stared in horror at the sight of now twelve infected moaning and stumbling forward, like Octavia and Bon Bon. And some, like Vinyl and Lyra, took up arms to protect their friends.

Once the infected were dealt with and the dust settled, only Octavia, Vinyl, Lyra, and Bon Bon remained out of their group. After Octavia and Bon Bon were calmed down to a reasonably calm state, the four friends agreed to split into two groups and meet at the train station on the other side of town, knowing that going together would attract too much attention. Both groups split up what was left of the food, grabbed a baseball bat each, and made their way to town.

That was a month ago.

Through many trial-and-error encounters, Octavia and Vinyl discovered what the infected were capable of, and they were relentless. What may appear to be only one would moan and four or five more would appear around it, moaning as well. Vinyl and Octavia decided that stealth and fighting only when absolutely needed was the only way to make it through this alive. Using their phones, they relayed the information to Lyra and Bon Bon, both groups keeping in touch this way periodically. The going was no better for Lyra and Bon Bon; they had made about as much progress to their goal as Octavia and Vinyl had. Ponyville was surprisingly large when a horde of infected shambled around.

But even with the odds stacked against them so high, they refused to stop, refused to quit, to just lay down and die, or worse. Even with their will to live as strong as it was, it was difficult for Vinyl, more so for Octavia. The idea that these things could even exist, but the fact that they did? It's only natural that some minds wouldn't be able to function quite the same now. For Octavia, nothing radical had changed at all, in fact, some of her thoughts may have even been strengthened. This was to her disadvantage, however. Octavia is a peaceful person, one to talk troubles out rather than use action. But Octavia and Vinyl knew that there was only one way to stop these things.

\_/ /-\ \_/

Sleep wasn't something that Octavia was getting a lot of nowadays. The nagging in the back of her mind that those... those... things could grab her in the middle of the night made whatever sleep she did get light and left her more tired than the previous day. While Vinyl insisted that she was fine, Octavia could tell she wasn't getting a whole lot either. She wouldn't slow reaction time, thank the Goddesses, but the bags under her eyes grew a little every day. Octavia hoped that they would both be able to get some real sleep soon; they would need it. But, it was daylight now, and that meant being on the move. Or rather, try to be on the move.

Octavia watched from the makeshift bed of couch cushions and scattered pillows in the middle of the room they sheltered themselves in for the night as Vinyl slowly walked to the window. She slightly pulled the curtain back, only enough to just allow her to see the street. She stayed there for only a few moments before pulling back and shutting the curtain once more. She didn't say anything, just sighed and walked over to her stool that she sat on last night. Octavia watched her, waiting for an answer, but Vinyl only played with the embers with her bat.

"How does it look outside?" Octavia asked hesitantly.

"Too many to walk." Vinyl said, almost devoid of emotion.

"... But we need food..." Octavia said weakly, looking at the empty cans next to the makeshift fireplace; a pot for a plant.

"... I know." Vinyl said after a sigh.

"What are we going to do?" Octavia asked.

"You are going to stay here. I'm going to go look for something." Vinyl said, rising from her seat.

Octavia stood as well. "What? You can't be serious! I'm not going to let you go alone out there!"

"Shh!" Vinyl hissed, putting her index against her lips.

"Sorry." Octavia mumbled.

"It's okay, Tavi." Vinyl said softly, raising her fist. Octavia normally would have scoffed and said something about how immature the act is, but she slowly raised her fist as well and bumped it softly against Vinyl's. "I know you're concerned and all, but... well..." Vinyl trails off.

"Well, what?" Octavia asked.

"You can't... y'know... kill them." Vinyl said quietly.

"So? I can still help..." Octavia's steam went out as she spoke.

"I know you can Tavi, but... I just don't want you to get hurt. Or worse." Vinyl said.

"But... what about you? What if you... you..." Octavia couldn't finish her thought.

"I'll be fine, Tavi. I'll be back soon." Vinyl shouldered her bat and walked out the doorway, carefully stepping around the man from last night.

Octavia simply watched her go. She fell to her makeshift bed and still stared after her. She'll be fine. She's a tough girl. Octavia thought to herself, without conviction. She layed down and stared at the ceiling of the building she was in. The ceiling a family once took for granted. The ceiling that kids played under and pets roamed and a couple loved each other. A life like that seemed so far away now. Even if they got to Canterlot, how could life just up and go back to normal? After this, there would never be a "normal" again.

*Buzzzzz! Buzzzzz! Buzzzzz!*

Octavia quickly sat up, looking about for the cell phone. She couldn't find it, where was it?! She groaned in frustration before a tiny light half buried by her pillow caught her eye. "Ah ha!" Octavia said quietly to herself, claiming the phone in victory. Looking at the screen, the small phone showed it was a text from Lyra and Bon Bon, as per usual. Octavia quickly opened the text, eager and fearful of what it might say.

Hey girls. Everything ok?

Octavia gave a small mental sigh that nothing bad had happened.

We're fine. We had a... close encounter last night. Vinyl just went out to get breakfast.

And send.

A few moments later, the phone buzzed again.

Is she safe???

Octavia thought for a moment.

I hope so. I'm sure that she will be fine.

Octavia wished she could believe that.

If u say so. Text later. Stay safe.

Despite the circumstances, Octavia smiled.

You too.

After that, Octavia placed the phone on a small coffee table near her mound of cushions. Once she did, she realized that she had never really took a good look at the room she was calling "home" for now.

The room looked like it would be a family room at one point. There was soft, white carpet beneath her feet, the light tan walls raising to a slightly domed roof the same color. There was the doorway to a hallway that lead to the front door that held the... visitor's body. There was the couch in a corner, lined up with the window and facing the center of the room, where their makeshift campsite was. An entertainment stand was at the center of the wall opposite the doorway, a flat screen t.v. still on it. Then, between the couch and t.v., was the coffee table Octavia put the phone on.

It wasn't much, but it would have made a nice home for a family. Octavia wished that she could have had something like this, knowing that she never might. She made her way for the doorway, stepping around the body of the mystery man carefully. She looked to her right; a window, the curtains drawn. To her left was the other rooms, a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and dining room, respectfully. She walked down the hall a bit, turning into the bedroom. It was similarly sparse as the family room. A queen sized bed, end tables on either side, a vanity mirror and dresser combo, and a bookshelf lined with books and knick-knacks of all kinds. A cute picture of a couple sat in the center of the middle shelf.

Curious, she approached the bookshelf, inspecting the many titles and little decorations. A snow globe, in particular, caught her eye. She picked it up and gently blew the dust off of it, the small name reading CANTERLOT CASTLE in bold letters across the brass base. Inside was a small mountain with the city in question sitting proudly on its side. Octavia gave it a small shake and held it close to watch the hundreds of tiny, white dots swirl and sink in the tiny world and coat the castle. It seemed so peaceful in the miniature world she held in her hand. Octavia wished she could go to that world instead, even if she hated the biting cold of a Canterlot winter. She replaced the snow globe and looked back at the shelf, one book title catching her eye.

She pulled out a thick tome, one that was leatherbound and the pages a nice golden from age. For its look, it was surprisingly well-kept, perhaps even a prized possession. It was, as the inside cover read, the complete and unabridged version of The Count of Monte Cristo, one of Octavia's all-time favorite books. Going so far as to grin, she took the old book and walked back to the family room, minding her space from the dead man as she passed him. Sitting down on her cushions, she opened the cover, flipped through the first blank pages, and began to read.

\_/ /-\ \_/

The sound of the door opening and closing quietly tore Octavia from her reading. She placed a small piece of string that she had found in the book and closed it to mark her spot, set the book down on the coffee table where the phone rests, and turned just in time to see Vinyl come through the doorway and take off the backpack she had been wearing as well as set her bat down. Much to Octavia's relief, the bat had no bright red covering it or stains that weren't there when Vinyl left earlier today. Octavia jumped up from her sitting position, ran forward and wrapped Vinyl in a powerful hug. "I'm so glad you're safe." Octavia said.

Vinyl hugged her back after a moment. "Yeah. I told ya that I would be." Vinyl smiled for the first time in a while.

Octavia separated from the hug when her stomach growled. "Did you find anything to eat?"

Vinyl grinned. "You bet your sweet ass I did!" Vinyl laid the backpack on the coffee table and opened it to not only reveal several cans, but something that Octavia was sure that she would never see again.

Sitting neatly atop the cans was a small container. But it wasn't just any container, it was a container that had a pink color that, despite insisting that she meticulously watched her weight, Octavia knew very well. She walked forward to the container and slowly opened it. Inside was a small cake, larger than a cupcake, but smaller than a normal cake. On it was plain white frosting with no special pattern or wording. Octavia thought it beautiful. "Where did you find it?" She asked, not looking away from the small cake.

"There's this bakery just down the road, Sugarcube Corner. I saw that and thought maybe we could have a little treat." Vinyl said, a self-satisfied grin plastered to her face.

Octavia looked at the cake a bit more before rushing to Vinyl and wrapping her in a massive hug. "Thank you Vinyl."

Vinyl, caught off-guard at the sudden hug, took a moment to hug her back. "No problem Tavi. But wait 'till after breakfast!" Vinyl playfully scolded.

"Am I to brush my teeth before or after I eat it?" Octavia asked lightheartedly while separating from the hug.

Both girls laughed at this.

Outside, a blood-curdling scream was heard, silencing both girls.

For a moment, they had forgotten about the world outside.

A moment after the scream was silenced, frantic buzzing was heard from the phone on the table. Octavia was still frozen from the pure fear the scream had told of. Vinyl gave her shoulder a pat as she walked passed Octavia to where the phone rests. Octavia shook her head to clear the thoughts from it and turned to Vinyl. "What does it say?" She asked quietly.

Vinyl gave a sigh of relief once her she finished the text. "It's Lyra and Bon Bon. They're asking if it was one of us that screamed like that."

"So does that mean it wasn't one of them?" Octavia asked quietly.

"No, they're fine." Vinyl said while typing the response text.

Octavia wanted to feel relieved, wanted to think that it was all okay, but she couldn't. While it may not have been the scream of one of her friends, or even someone she knew, it was still a person. A person that was, most likely, dead now. Or worse. It was a feeling of helplessness that washed over her as she thought on the scream. She was snapped out of her stupor by Vinyl holding her in a soft hug; she must have guessed what Octavia had been feeling. Octavia hugged her back after a moment.

Despite the hectic chaos that had become the world outside, she always felt a little more safe when Vinyl hugged her. Like her embrace was able to ward off the craziness that consumed everyone else. For those brief moments, everything was okay, everything was going to be fine. Octavia hugged Vinyl a little closer, her breathing calming her, if only a little. Vinyl hugged her a little bit closer as well, before disconnecting, much to Octavia's disappointment. Vinyl sat down on her stool, grabbing one of the cans as she went. Octavia's stomach did the duty of telling her that she's hungry, and Octavia went to get some breakfast as well.

While the two girls waited for their meals to heat up over the pitiful fire that had been re-lit, Octavia found her eyes wandering over Vinyl. She would catch herself, mentally kick herself, and then avert her gaze to something else in the room. This was nothing new; for a few months now, Octavia had been noticing Vinyl in a new light, one that went beyond the realms of friendship. It worried Octavia slightly; she never invested too heavily in a relationship before, and never with another woman. She had heard of Vinyl's... promiscuity when it came to relations, and even had the unfortunate experience of walking in before, during, and after said relations. She kept score of when it was with a man, woman, or both, but lost count and frankly didn't mind that she had.

A small part of her heart was elated that, despite how she found out, Vinyl was fine with being with girls. Another, slightly larger, part said that what she felt for her was wrong, even if it was her upbringing that controlled its voice. But most of her heart was confused; she never felt like this for anyone, ever. She had no idea how to act on these feelings, feared that Vinyl might say, "no", had so much doubt and uncertainty that she hid it from everyone, even herself at times. A small, brave voice in her head said that with everything that was transpiring around her, her time was quickly running out and she should act while she still could, but it was hardly heard with the roar of everything else. So, she kept it hidden, kept it secret. For the time being, that was the smartest thing to do. They had enough to deal with, she shouldn't pile, "uncertain feelings for Vinyl" on top of everything.

But, still... what if she said yes? No, no, she shouldn't spring this on her right now. There was simply too much going on, she would wait for the time to be right. Maybe when they got to Canterlot? She could imagine it all in her head now; after so long, after overcoming near-impossible obstacles, they would have finally reached salvation. The shining city would spread before them, the Guard would help them with disaster relief services, and Celestia's sun would be slowly setting, casting a soft orange glow upon everything. Octavia would turn to Vinyl, and slowly, somewhat embarrassingly tell her how she felt. Vinyl, being her unpredictable self, would simply lean in a her lips would connect with-

"Tavi? You're starring." Vinyl's voice shatters Octavia's mental picture.

Octavia felt a heavy blush flow to her cheeks. "Oh, um... s-sorry." She said meekly. Great job, Octavia...

As Vinyl opened her mouth to say something and Octavia braced for the pestering the hyper DJ was going to give her when a crash silenced both of them, their heads turning to the doorway. A soft moan sounded through the house, muffled by the walls. No... no, not again... Octavia thought, images of last nights John Doe flashing through her mind. Almost with complete silence, Vinyl rose from her seat and grabbed her bat, standing near the door like last night. And Octavia knew just what she was going to do. Like last night. And the night before. And the night before. She wished it would just end.

At first, all was quiet after the initial crash, as though they had simply broken the window and moved on. While it would be nice, both girls knew better than to think that is what happened. They also knew better than to investigate it; it was here Vinyl would joke about how all those horror movies that she's seen taught her how to survive if this wasn't real life. But still, nothing stirred in the other room. Sometimes Octavia found the silence just as terrifying as the moans. A moan carried quietly from down the hall, as though just to spite Octavia. While Octavia simply sat on her makeshift bed, Vinyl's grip tightened around the bat handle.

Heavy, awkward footsteps sounded, the kind that told of a limp and almost drunken state that they had come to learn so well. The same empty paint can rattle was only just above a whisper as they moved about. Despite Octavia's best effort, she could feel the terror build in her, her breathing coming hard and fast. Vinyl looked at her with her index to her lips, "Shh." Octavia tried her best, and her breathing quieted slightly. She placed a trembling hand over her mouth to silence her further, to a surprisingly good effect. To both girls' disappointment, the breathing and thuds grew slowly louder. Octavia's already wide eyes widen more. Goddesses, please, don't let it find us.

They decided not to listen to her plea.

This one would have been a girl in life. A pretty one, too, Octavia would have guessed. Now, however, her face had an open cut spanning from her forehead to her chin down the right side of her face, part of her lip hanging lamely from the slash. Her unseeing eye was also cut, reminding Octavia of a cat's eye with the slit pupil. Her light brown hair went down her back, roughly half way down. Her mismatched eyes, like John Doe's, feel upon her quivering form. The girl raised her arms and opened her mouth, the teeth a sick yellow with fresh, red stains. Her tongue was also split from whatever caused the gash on her face.

A similar Crack! sounded through the house once more. The girl's head snapped back and she stumbled but did not fall. She uttered her hellish moan and turned to focus on Vinyl, her bloodied fingers reach to grab Vinyl. Vinyl, having stepped just through the door, didn't have time to beat her back. She dropped her bat to hold the undead attacker away from her. "Tavi! The bat!" Vinyl said through her teeth, the girl's jaw opening and closing as it tried to bite at Vinyl.

Octavia didn't move. She couldn't.

"Tavi...!" Vinyl said with strain. Snap, snap.

Octavia noticed that the wound had opened more. It was quite discusting.

"Octavia!" Vinyl said.

Octavia snapped out of whatever had grabbed a hold of her. She quickly got up and grabbed the handle of the bat. It felt so strangely heavy in her hands. She turned to the dead girl and raised it above her head. But she couldn't bring herself to send the bat down.

"Octavia, fucking swing!" Vinyl yelled.

Goddesses, forgive me...

She swung the bat.

Crack!

The dead girl stopped snapping at Vinyl.

Vinyl pushed the body off her.

She landed next to John Doe, her still hand resting atop his when suddenly, it hit Octavia.

The picture she saw on the bookcase; it was of them. Upon each finger was a ring.

Till death do us part.

Act 0, Part 2- Scribbler: Between The Devil...

Rough Notes on infected persons.

Most common transmission is a bite or scratch, though other ways have been heard of. So far there have been no cases in which breathing the same air as an infected or drinking water touched by infected causing infection, have determined virus cannot survive in air or water.

Once infected, the same time chart follows, with varying hours depending on individual:

Hour 1: Pain and discoloration around wound, blood clots.

Hour 5: Fever, chills, slight dementia, vomiting, pain in joints.

Hour 8: Numbing in arms and legs- specifically fingers and toes -as well as infected entry wound, increased fever and dementia, loss of muscle coordination. Victims known to lash out randomly without meaning to.

Hour 11: Paralysis from waist-down, numbness spreads to areas with feeling, heart rate slows. Not much longer now.

Hour 16: Coma. Life signs at minimum.

Hour 20: Heart stops. No brain activity. Victim is, at this point, deceased.

Hour 23: Reanimation.

ANY person infected, no matter how slight, WILL turn. Virus has yet to be found occurring in nature. Bioweapon, perhaps? If so, why? Who? Must research later. Only one method of disposal has proven effective against a reanimated infected. The brain must be destroyed. They do not seem to feel pain nor exhaustion. Or anything, for that matter.

Footsteps sounded near Scribbler, who shut his journal quickly and hid it in his backpack. The passing patrol looked at him in curiosity. "What are you doing back here?" The taller of the two Canterlot Guards asked quizzically.

"Nothing, I was just, uh... taking a break. I'm tired." Scribbler said, yawning from a long night without rest.

"In an alleyway?" The same guard asked, eyebrow raised.

"Uh, yep." Scribbler said, rising to his feet and shouldering his pack.

"Right. Um... stay out of trouble." The guard said with a firm voice.

"Sure thing." Scribbler said with a slight smile.

The guard gave him one last curious look before moving on.

Scribbler let out a small sigh once he was sure the patrol was out of earshot. He slowly walked out into the Downtown Canterlot Safe Zone, or D-CSZ as people called it. Just because it was "secure" didn't mean it was safe or pleasant.

{/} (/ ) {/}

When the plague had reached the breaking point of people rioting and infected shambling after them, The Canterlot Guard acted quickly under the command and orders of Princess Celestia to secure as much of the city as was feasible and establish two areas: the Safe Zone and Quarantine.

The Safe Zone had been created with most of downtown Canterlot and a secure and barricaded route to the castle. It consisted mostly of small shops with living quarters above them and three apartment complexes, as well as the South Plaza. The shops were kept open and the living areas in them divided to house as many survivors and refugees as possible. Once space there had been exhausted, the apartments were given out on a "first come, first served" policy. And when the number of people exceeded the number of apartments, a tent area that was quickly becoming a slum was created in the South Plaza.

Scribbler had the misfortune of being placed in the South Plaza.

As if the universe thought that walking corpses weren't enough, it decided to put him there. Here, in this hopeless place, tensions were high and tempers higher. It was crowded, dirty, and overall unpleasant. Oftentimes, a family of four was put in a tent meant for two, and many people were forced to share tents to conserve space. Small shacks had been erected along the walls of the Plaza with whatever people could find that wasn't cared about by someone else. These makeshift homes were dangerous at the best of times in construction alone, and they were fiercely guarded by their inhabitants. And with good reason.

In the very center of the Plaza, one large tent stood with a homemade fence around it to allow a few feet of space from tent to fence. The tent was easily large enough to hold a small party in, anywhere from twenty to twenty five people with space for more. And it was the new home of Canterlot most dangerous and notorious crime lord, Iron Fist. When the rioting was in its early stages, Iron Fist went to the plaza and erected his massive tent, stripping nearby buildings of anything useful to create the barrier around it. He gathered a select number of his close friends and most loyal employees and settled in, much to the discomfort of everyone.

And just because there were a few zombies didn't mean his business had to shut down. Any people that paid him "protection" money that survived were still expected to pay the same amount on the same collection dates, no exceptions. Thanks to the shops being open for business, that left no excuse for anyone. Those that failed to pay had one of two options; become an unpaid employee, or get grabbed when no one was looking. Everyone had a different story for what happened to people that choose option two, but they all ended the same way; they were never seen again. People often wondered how Iron Fist could still get away with this with guards crawling all over the place, but between holding the line, distributing food and water, and settling immediate and obvious law breaking, the Guard had far bigger fish to fry.

Whether this was to Scribblers advantage or disadvantage, was anyone's guess.

{/} (/ ) {/}

The entryway to the South Plaza loomed ahead of Scribbler. He sighed, hoping that today might go a little differently than any other day. Not "normal", that was far too much to ask in todays world, but maybe not "suckish" today. It wasn't a lot to ask, but then again, the South Plaza didn't have a lot to offer anyone. Passing under the massive wrought-iron gateway, he glanced warily at the two guards standing to attention at either side of the entryway. Scribbler hadn't done anything that they could prove, but the Guard had made a point of calling a hunch reason for inspection of anyone. Luckily for him, they didn't seem interested in him or his affairs for right now. Hopefully it would stay that way.

Now the maze of tents was ahead of him, the once stark-white material stained dark colors and overall dull in comparison to what it had been. The flaps were closed on most of them, open on a select few to allow the smoke from fires in tin cans leak slowly out and the hungry, desperate faces watch people with caution. Walking by, Scribbler noticed three men sitting around a wooden box that had seen far better days, cards in their hands and on the box-turned-table, as well as ration stamps for food and water respectfully. Farther down the line there was a tent that had its flap open wide and a table standing between the entrance and inside with second hand goods on display in exchange for bits or ration coupons, an elderly man calling softly to anyone who passed by.

"Used goods here for cheap, cheap prices! Clothes in good condition! You there, you look like you could use a jacket!" The older man called to Scribbler.

Scribbler glanced over and saw the old man holding a dirty red hoodie that had a hole in the right breast and a tear in the left sleeve from the wrist to the elbow. "Um, no, thank you." Scribbler said politely while continuing on.

"A-are you sure? It gets awful cold here in winter, and it's just around the corner!" The old man said quickly.

"No thank you, I'm fine, really." Scribbler knew he would need warmer clothes soon, but he had to get "home" before-

"Old man! He said, he's fine." A scratchy voice said behind Scribbler.

Damnit. Scribbler thought as he turned around. Standing in front of the table was a tall, slightly muscular man with dark brown almost black hair that was combed neatly to one side. He wore slightly faded jeans and a dark sweater that seemed nicer than most, almost formal in appearance. Unlike most anyone, his clothes were free of damage or dirt, not a hair out of place or a thread hanging loose. His light grey eyes were currently locked with the milky blue of the old vendor.

The vendor's eyes widen slightly. "O-of course! I-I-I meant no offense!"

The younger man smirked. "Well, you're in luck, 'cause it just so happens I'm in a good mood today." He said, grabbing a silver watch off the table. Turning it over in his hand, he spoke to the vendor, "Now this is a fine watch. I'd say it would put me in a fantastic mood if I could just take it off your hands for ya." The look he gave the old man said he had no intention of compensating him for it.

"Uh, y-yes! It looks like it was made for you! It's, uh, it's on the house!" The old man cowered slightly.

"I thought the same thing! Be seeing you around." The man said while clipping the watch to his left wrist. "And it does look damn good, don't it Scribbler?" He said, putting his left arm around Scribbler's shoulders.

Scribbler glanced over at it, the watching looking almost brand-new. "Yeah, it looks great Capo."

"I thought so too. Got it for a steal!" Capo said with a grin.

"That's great. Uh, I really need to get to my tent, there's this-"

"I'm sure that whatever it is, it can wait. Boss man would like to have a word with ya. You don't mind, do you?" Capo asked as though it were a sincere question.

"... Yeah, it can wait." Scribbler said after a moment.

Capo smiled, his teeth much whiter than, well, anyones. "Tarrific! Let's get goin'."

Capos arm still snugly over his shoulder, Scribbler walked with Capo through the maze of tents, everyone that noticed the two giving them a wide birth and averted eyes. Back before this mess, most people would have, at the very least, giving a quizzical look at a well-dressed man walking so close to a kid no older than nineteen with such torn-up clothing, but here, everybody knew what nice-looking clothes meant around here: trouble. Scribbler's weren't, of course. He had ragged sneakers and light tan cargo shorts, as well as a black shirt with the words DJ-PON-3 in faded electric blue with a few tears. In addition to the small brown backpack he wore, it would normally be quite an odd pair to walk all buddy-buddy together.

"So, how're things goin’' for ya, Scribbler? Good, I hope?" Capo asked casually.

"Fantastic." Scribbler said dryly.

"That's good. Crazy times like these, it's good to be good." Capo said, ignoring his dry tone.

"I don't think 'crazy' begins to describe it." Scribbler said, a lone boy with light brown hair and a red bandana sitting in a corner and looking shyly at the two.

"Yeah, maybe 'crazy' ain't the best word. But I've never been a man for words meself." Capo said.

Scribbler chose, wisely, to not comment.

"Almost there. Ya arn't tired, are ya?" Capo said when Scribbler yawned.

"A little. Long night." Scribbler said quietly.

"Not that it's my place to ask, but what does Iron Fist got ya doin' anyway?" Capo asked, facing Scribbler.

"Uh... research." Scribbler said, eyeing a passing guard patrol.

"Research? Researching what, those freaks out there?" Capo asked surprised with a chuckle.

"Yup." Scribbler said, void of emotion.

"Shit, wonder why he would have ya do that?" Capo said, mostly to himself.

"Boss don't pay ya to think, Capo." A mountain of a man said in a deep, baritone voice.

"Bruiser! I'd forgotten what your voice sounded like. You should talk more." Capo said with a smile, stopping the two just outside the entrance to the huge tent.

"Yeah? And you should talk less. Get inside; Iron Fist's waitin'." Bruiser said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Capo put a hand on his chest and a face of mock hurt. "Bruiser! You hurt my feelin's." Capo said as he walked in.

Bruiser gave a short grunt and folded his arms over his chest.

Reluctantly following Capo, Scribbler walked forward into the massive tent.

The inside of the tent looked much closer to that of an actual structure. Furniture was placed like an apartment high-rise with a designated living room, kitchen, dining area, even entryway where Scribbler and Capo stood while the former was searched for weapons. If the fabric hanging from metal poles were any indication, this tent even had separate rooms. Scribbler wouldn't be surprised if it had indoor plumbing as well. After Scribbler's hand hatchet had been removed from his person, both he and Capo were escorted by two employees to a part of the tent with a hanging portion meant to be a wall. One goon opened the flap while the other put his hand on Capo's should. "Boss wants to talk to him only. You wait out here." He said in a deep voice similar to Bruiser's.

Capo looked like he was about to argue before he thought better of it and reluctantly made his way elsewhere in the tent. The goon then waved Scribbler forward. Once he stepped through, the flap was closed behind him.

"I'll be just a moment. Please, have a seat." Came the melodic voice of Iron Fist.

Walking slowly forward, Scribbler sat down in a rather elegant chair, one made of dark wood and red upholstery. His chair was seated just in front of a large desk made from a rich, dark brown wood that gave a small shine from the light in the room. Looking about, Scribbler though it was similar to the study his dad spent so much time in when he was a kid. On the wall to his right was a massive bookshelf that was more or less the same color as the desk. It was lined with all kinds of books and decorations, a model ship in a bottle catching his eye most. To his left was a flatscreen t.v. atop an entertainment stand and some potted plants, baby palm trees, by their looks. Scribbler thought it rather odd that they were there, but turned his attention back to Iron Fist.

The man in question looked up from the book he had been writing in to address Scribbler. He was an older man, from his looks in his early forties with grey hair that was combed back to reveal a slim forehead and sharp features. He had ice blue eyes, something that set Scribbler and anyone else on the receiving end of them on edge. His jawline was soft at the curves, but rather strong. Everything about him said the opposite about his name; he seemed much more akin to a politician than a crime lord. His onyx suit made that possibility even greater. "Thank you for coming so soon. I know it's rather short notice, but these are... interesting times we live in." His soft voice offset much of what people thought it would be like.

"It's fine. I didn't have anything too important to do." Scribbler said, always feeling like those ice blue eyes were staring right through him.

"Thank you for being so understanding. Now, to business." Iron Fist held one hand in the other an leaned forward in his chair slightly. "What have you learned of the infected individuals?"

Scribbler shrugged off his pack and opened it to withdraw his journal. He flipped it open to where the notes he had taken were. "Nothing that I'm sure you don't already know. Most people succum in twenty-four hours or less. They seem to not feel exhaustion or exertion, they have what would be for us unlimited stamina. This is offset by poor muscle coordination, the most they can do is shuffle quickly for someone or something. Whenever they spot prey, the moan and head straight for it. Anything is cause for investigation, really. Sound, lights, smell... anything."

"Do they attack each other?" His voice was soft, patient.

"No, not that I've seen. Most they'll do is bump into each other and move on without a second glance. It's like they don't even know they exist. The only time I've ever seen them acknowledge one another is when one of them moans. It acts like a call to any within ear shot." Scribbler described as he flipped through pages.

"Hmm." Iron Fist's lips were a hard line. "Thank you for your time. You've done good work. Come see me again later tonight, just after sundown; I have a job for you." Iron Fist said, opening his book again.

"... Alright. See you then." Scribbler said as he packed his journal back in and made his way for the tent entrance. As he reached the main tent flap, his hatchet was returned to him and placed in his backpack. Wouldn't want the guards feeling nervous, or more so than they already are. His unpleasant business for the day concluded, he made the return trip to "his" tent.

Luckily for him, the sun looked to be about noon in its position, leaving plenty of time until his next meeting. Speaking of, the sky was perfect today. The sky was a light blue, a friendly, soft color that went as far as the eye could see, with small tufts of fluffy white rolling lazily across the great expanse. It was a pleasant Fall day, not too hot with a nice breeze that flowed through the sky as lazily as the clouds. It felt almost normal. Returning his gaze to the area in front of him, it felt so out of place, like something so nice should never be near a place as rotten as this. But how the Goddesses worked was how they worked.

Sighing, he continued to move through the tight-packed paths between tents, slowly making his way "home". Every few steps, someone would bump into him, mutter a quick apology and continue past. At first, he didn't even notice; occurrences like that were all too common here. But when it happened over and over again, he stopped a young woman rose colored hair with lighter streaks in it. "Excuse me, but where is everyone headed?" Scribbler asked.

The woman seemed slightly confused. "The food stands. Don't you know?"

No, he didn't. "The food stands? But, they're going the wrong way. They're supposed to be to the north."

The woman's eyes widen slowly. "You haven't heard? Someone had been stealing food, so they moved it to the west side, where they could keep it under guard more easily."

"Oh, I didn't know. Thanks." Scribbler said, beginning to walk away.

"No problem." She said, heading the other way.

You know she was pretty. His head said to him. Scribbler paused for a moment before turning around. "Hey! Wait a sec!" He called after her.

She looked behind her before stopping. "Yes?" She asked, glancing nervously in the direction of the food stands.

"I, uh... never got your name." Scribbler said, rubbing the back of his head.

The woman giggled. "I'm Roseluck. And you are?"

"Uh, S-Scribbler! I'm Scribbler." He said with a small blush.

Roseluck giggled once more. "Well, Scribbler, I'll see you around, 'kay?"

"Yeah! Uh... see you later." And she headed west. Once she was out of sight, Scribbler facepalmed. "Smooth." He said sarcastically. He once more began making his way for his tent, only for his stomach to growl loudly. Right. I need food. He thought, turning around and making his way west.

The closer he got, the thicker the crowd got. Some people choose to push their way through, hoping to get their food faster. Some didn't have the strength to push, and others barely had enough to just stand and shuffle closer. Scribbler did as those people did, take his time and just let the natural flow take him closer. It's not like the food stands ever ran out, somehow, just that people didn't get a lot when they did get there. If what he had heard held any water, there was upwards of a few hundred people living in the Plaza along with the numbers climbing around two thousand total with the apartments and shops included. It was an honest miracle that they had enough food to feed all those people.

After about ten minutes of slow moving through the mass of people, Scribbler had finally made it to the stand. The stand was a large trailer with one side customized to act like a food truck's side; able to pass the door down to whoever ordered. Both sides of the trailer were heavily guarded with guards wearing full riot gear and holding shotguns and submachine guns, giving verbal warnings to anyone that got to close. Looking back at the window, Scribbler dug a coupon out of his pocket and passed it up to the guard, the guard giving him two protein bars and a water bottle in return. Scribbler quickly stowed the food and water into his backpack before slowly making his way to his tent.

Much to Scribbler's disappointment, he never caught sight of Roseluck in the crowed. He didn't think that he would, but a man can dream, can't he? Once he was well away from the crowed, he moved his backpack in front of him and grabbed one of the protein bars, giving the packaging a once-over. Deciding that it was safe to eat (With the condition of the public restrooms here, the last thing he wanted was a meal that didn't agree with him), he was just about to unwrap it when it was snatched from his hand and a little boy with a somewhat familiar red bandana took off running from him. "Hey! Get back here!" Scribbler called after him, running as well.

For his size, this little boy was surprisingly fast, weaving between people and tents, though not nimble, per say. Scribbler shoved anyone that was in front of him and gave a quick "Sorry!" over his shoulder, though the angry shouts after him didn't make his sorrys very effective. "Stop that kid!" He yelled ahead, no one making a move to do so. He didn't expect anyone to, it was an unspoken rule that it was far wiser to look out for yourself than others in this place. Scribbler had finally gotten close and was about to grab his collar when he turned a corner at the last second, sending Scribbler running right into someone. "Shit!" Scribbler cried as he and the man went tumbling to the cobblestone ground. "Sorry! Sorry!" Scribbler said quickly, jumping to his feet and running down the corner.

When he did, he saw the boy looking up at the iron fence that made up the wall of the plaza in despair, quickly looking side to side for a different route, none being there. Scribbler quickly snatched the bar from his hand before he even knew he was there, making the little boy jump and cower beneath him. Still holding the bar, it was time to rant a little. "What the hell, man?! Why didn't you just wait like everyone else?!" Scribbler yelled.

The little boy curled closer and muttered his response.

"What? Speak up kid!" Scribbler said.

"I don't have any stamps..." The kid said in a quiet, British accent.

Confusion took the place of anger now. "Why? Everyone gets some every morning."

'Only adults can get stamps." The little boy said quietly.

"Yeah, but how do you not have any? Did your parents lose them or something?" Scribbler asked, crouching down to his level.

The boy was holding back tears, to no avail. "My mum and dad are dead." He said, barely over a whisper.

Aw, shit... Scribbler thought as the little boy cried quietly. "Hey, uh... it'll be okay little guy." Scribbler was never very good around kids.

"No it won't." He said through the tears and cries.

Luna, this is painful to watch. "Here, why don't you stay with me? I can make sure you get some stamps every day, I promise." Scribbler said.

The little boy sniffled and looked up to Scribbler, his brown eyes still swimming in tears. "R... really? Pinkie promise?"

Scribbler gave a soft smile. "Pinkie promise." He offered his pinkie.

The boy looked at his outstretched finger for a moment, looking like he was weighing his options. Slowly, he reached out his pinkie and wrapped it around Scribblers, slowly shaking it up and down.

Scribbler smiled a bit wider. "I promise. Here," Scribbler gave him the protein bar, "I can start with this."

The boy widened his eyes slightly before taking it. "Thank you." He said quietly.

"No problem. What's your name? I'm Scribbler." Scribbler said.

"I'm Pipsqueak, Pip for short." Pip said a little louder.

"Alright Pip, let's get going." Scribbler said, standing up.

"Get going where?" Pip asked, munching on the bar.

"First, chew with your mouth closed or I'll go apeshit on you," Pip giggled slightly, "And second, to your new home."

The way Pip's face lit up at those words is something Scribbler will never forget.

Act 0, Part 3- Twilight Sparkle: When Your Best...

The subject was being very difficult at the current time. Not that they were complacent in the first place, but this one more so than the others. She was letting out the commonplace moan that all the subjects did, at this point it was almost being drowned out by Twilight on autopilot. She thrashed weakly at her constraints, her arms and legs only strong enough to pull at the metal clamps that held her to the table. Her head was also immobilized with metal, her lifeless eyes attempting and failing to follow Twilight as she walked around the table, carefully examining every scratch, every cut, bruise, laceration and, most importantly, any bite marks that dotted her body.

That was the difficult part about the preliminary examination; determining if the wounds were pre or post mortem. Twilight had learned that, through autopsies of past subjects, that the only "active" organ left after the patient expired was the brain, and even then, it was operating on a modified basis. The heart, lungs, intestines, liver, all the other organs vital for human life simply didn't function and, in some cases, decomposed inside the body. There was a slight advantage to this; the subject couldn't bleed and it was slightly easier to determine when wounds were suffered by looking at the amount of blood both within the subject and around said wound.

Most of the wounds on this particular subject seemed to be inflicted post mortem. Whither this was better than pre mortem or not, was anyone's guess. Twilight noted all the locations of wounds on the subject; bite mark (Pre Mortem) located on right thigh, fingers show several scratches (Post Mortem), deep laceration from left shoulder blade to lower right back (Post Mortem), cuts and scratches covering torso and greater leg area (Undetermined). Skin is slightly pale, body has lost quite a fair amount of blood. Surprisingly, no hair seems to be ripped off of scalp. Perhaps this person was able to escape their attacker after suffering bite wound.

The startled grunt of a guard tore Twilight from her notes. The subject had snapped at him when he got too close it seemed. "Guard, did she bite you?" Twilight asked, tired from her long night spent doing this.

"N-no, Princess Sparkle. She startled me, is all." The guard said.

"Do not lie, did she bite or scratch you, even barely?" Twilight asked, an irritated tone giving her words and unintended edge.

The guard seemed slightly surprised. "No, I'm fine. I didn't expect her to move."

Twilight gave the guard a curious look before returning to her notes. "I would like you to spend the next five hours under close inspection, just to be sure." Twilight said, not bothering to look up from her notes.

"But, Princess, she-"

"Are you going to argue with one of your Princesses?" Twilight asked, the edge to her words razor-sharp.

The guard was once again surprised before standing to attention, "No, ma'am!"

"Good. If he shows any sign of infection, bring him back here." Twilight said, back to her notes.

"Yes ma'am!" The guard went off to the barracks; five hours was a long time to not do anything.

Twilight sighed as she turned back to the table piled with papers and notebooks, all their words and knowledge still wasn't enough to answer the question that she so burned to answer: What is this? She sank slightly into her swivel chair and covered her face with her hands and sighed. She was doing that a lot lately.

"Don't you think a brake would be good, Princess?" Came a soft voice behind her.

Twilight turned around, curious as to who was trying to speak against her vital research yet again. His face was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "Remove your helmet, guard." Twilight said, a tired tone to her words.

He complied, once his helmet was off his ocean blue hair neatly combed back to reveal a rather young face. It still wasn't clicking yet, but Twilight remembered him. "Permission to speak freely, Princess." He said.

"Granted, mister...?" Twilight gestured with her hand.

"Flash Sentry. Working yourself ragged is no way for you to act right now. These are unique circumstances, but you sh-"

"I remember you. You kept pestering me until I had you transferred, which reminds me, how are you back in here?" Twilight asked, cutting his complaint short.

"I requested transfer back." Flash said.

"And who in their right mind did-"

"Your brother, ma'am." Flash said.

"Shining? Of course he did..." Twilight said with a sigh. "Fine. Place the subject back into containment. And for the love of Celestia, don't get infected." Twilight said in defeat.

Flash gave her a quick salute before replacing his helmet and moving to the table, unlocking the four wheels on the floor, and wheeling the table, subject and all, to what had been named "The Cage".

All the while, she moaned and struggled, wanting nothing more than the prey that eluded her for so long.

* * *

When the first outbreak occurred, Twilight, along with the other Elements of Harmony, had been swiftly called to Canterlot Castle. While Celestia had tried her best to play down the effects and rumors of the strange infection, she knew that it was a matter of time before a state of emergency must be declared. After a few hours of heated debate, Celestia did as all rulers do; made the hard choice no one else could. While it had been agreed on that the Royal Guard must do something about the infection, people couldn't agree on how they should.

The first choice made was to turn the Reserves loose on areas beyond saving and let them do everything in their power to stop the infection from spreading. Including the elimination of infected individuals. Property had been deemed "expendable" and survivors a secondary objective. Through the brute force and impressive numbers of the Royal Guard, normalcy would be returned at any cost. Celestia did not agree with this idea, but she knew that it was a viable option.

The second idea was to use the Royal Guard not to actively hunt and destroy those infected, but to ensure that the infection was contained until help could arrive from one of the many countries nearby. The Guard would secure the national boarder and completely shut down all transit that happened crossing the border. While not as violent as the search and destroy tactic, they had just as much freedom in engagement and just as many resources to do so. It was with this choice that Celestia decided to use her Guard.

After giving the order, Celestia addressed the nation to state that everyone should prepare for the worse from the infection and to move to the local "safe zone" as quickly, and safely as possible. And with that, she turned to the Elements.

With the situation quickly spiraling out of control, Celestia knew that there was no one location that the Elements could be sent to reverse the tide. Instead, she gave each of the six free reign to go where they wanted to in order to do their best to help people through the hard times soon to come.

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy both choose to head to Clousdale to assist their hometown.

Applejack and Pinkie Pie decided to stay in Ponyville for similar reasons.

Rarity went to Manehatten, where it was rumored to not be so bad.

Twilight choose to research the infected to find the cure.

And off they went.

* * *

Twilight had grown rather adept at sinking into chairs. Really, it was somewhat of an art form, when you think about it. Finding the right speed at which to let your body fall, adjusting the landing oh-so-slightly for maximum comfort and, in the case of wheeled chairs, controlling the slide distance without the use of one's feet. That last part was the tricky one for Twilight. And here she was thinking absurd thoughts that prevented her from doing her work. Sighing was another thing she had become good at, as she did now.

This virus, it was so perfect it was infuriatingly efficient. She simply couldn't find any way around it. Even the smallest dose that could enter the bloodstream became fatal. Seeing as to how the most common, and practical, solution to fighting a virus was to give a small amount so the immune system could learn to combat it, that was thrown out the window. While Twilight had a host of other theoretical options to choose from, they would take very long to get working and longer to perfect. By the time they could be put into action, it may be too late.

The most frustrating part was how much she knew about it. Through all the studying she had done, all the separate subjects, test, theories, numbers, data, none of it held a way to counter it! None of it was useful to that end! Could Twilight tell how long someone was infected? Yes. Could she tell if someone contracted it? In a glance. Could she explain the very structure of the virus itself? In her sleep, if she got any. Did any of it reveal a weak point, loophole, or otherwise any imperfection that could be exploited? No, no, and no.

She looked over the cluttered desk for what felt like the millionth time. Stakes of paper with countless words of writing, five or so notebooks that were filled from cover to cover- that reminds her, she needs more soon -, a mug half-full of what is sure to be cold coffee by now. It almost seemed comical how it looked. Too bad there was nothing funny about it. Twilight couldn't remember the last time she laughed. That's bad, right? When you can't remember the last time you laughed? Twilight felt that it was. But between research and the crazy world outside, there just wasn't anything to laugh about. I wish Pinkie were here...

She missed her friends with a terrible agony. All of their faces, bright and shining, loving and caring, their invaluable support in any time of hardship any of them faced... life was so different without them. So far, there had been no word from the other Elements and their assignments. While she knew she should assume the worst, she could never bring herself to imagine that her friends might have... that something may have happened to them. If something, heaven forbid, did happen... Twilight wouldn't know what to do. Her friends had become such a huge part of her life that she couldn't fathom a life without them.

"Princess Sparkle?" The same soft voice that interrupted her the first time.

Twilight swung the chair around, sleep making her eyelids heavy but her stubborn nature keeping them open. "Yes, Flash Sentry, what is it?" A mighty yawn cut anything else off from being said.

"The subject made it safely to containment with no one being injured." His tone and face said there was more than that he wanted to say.

"Good. The last thing we need is another infected guard." Twilight said, with another yawn following.

Flash made a move to speak, his mouth opening, but closed it again, deciding against speaking.

Twilight shut her eyes, "Permission to speak freely."

"Do you know what time it is?"

Twilight opened her eyes, caught off-guard at the question. "No, I don't..." Any irritation in her voice left.

"It's currently one forty." Flash said.

"That's not so-"

"A.M." Flash finished.

That again caught Twilight by surprise. "Oh." Looking out one of the windows nearby, the sky was dark with thousands of tiny bright dots decorating the sky. A glance at the clock confirmed that it was 1:43 in the morning. "When did that happen?" Twilight asked. Wow, I'm so tired, I'm attempting bad humor. I need sleep.

"Well, you know how time works." Flash said with a small smile.

Even with how stressed her work was making her, that got a chuckle out of Twilight. "You have no idea..." She said, her mind recalling that hectic week when she time traveled.

"So, about the time..." Flash said, the slight humor in his voice gone.

Twilight's final chuckle died when he said this. Opening her mouth to argue that she should continue her research, her eyes met his and while they held a sternness, they also had the soft look of someone who cared. It had been a while since she saw that look. She let out a defeated sigh. "Fine. I'll go to bed."

Flash smiled. "Thank you ma'am."

"If you're awake right now, then shouldn't you also get to bed?" Twilight countered, followed by a large yawn. Her eyelids felt very heavy right now.

"Touche, ma'am." Flash said.

Twilight rose, steadied herself on the back of he chair from falling over, then began her slow trudge to her chambers. "Right. Off to bed then. Goodnight Flash Sentry." Twilight mumbled.

"Goodnight ma'am." Flash said, saluted, then made his way for the barrekes.

Twilight hadn't gone to her chambers in the castle in so long- at least, it felt like a long time -that she had to think for a moment before she knew what direction to head and what turns to take. At the foot of the stairs that carried her up to her chambers, she looked at with despair. Wishing she had wings, she began the slow climb up the tower. Despite her best efforts, the thought of her friends came to her mind again, their happy, smiling faces frozen in her mind's eye. With her work, she never took too much time to miss them, hoping to find the cure and get them back home to Ponyville where she thought they all belonged.

The thought of Ponyville drudged up more memories of her old life. The sun shinning brightly in the cloudless sky, the birds singing and the sounds of children playing. The quiet chatter of friends as the walked to streets and the happy silence of lovers as they strolled by hand in hand, lost to the world around them. Winnoa's happy barks as she played with Tank on the pet play dates. The sweet, welcoming smells coming from Sugercube Corner as Pinkie cooked up the treats that everyone so loved. That seemed like so long ago. By the time she reached her door, she only just noticed she had started crying silent tears.

She wiped away the tears and stopped thinking about what was and tried to focus on what she was going to make the world when she was done. She would get life going back the way it was, let all the memories come back to life. It was a nice thought, but it was crushed under the weight of reality and how far-fetched that idea sounded. Sometimes being the level-headed, logical one was a curse as much as it was a gift.

Done changing into her nightgown, she fell onto her bed, asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

* * *

Sunlight had been creeping up Twilight's face slowly for the past hour or so. Inch by inch it made its way up her peaceful features, illuminating the small smile and pale skin she wore along with her lavender hair with its two streaks of purple and light pink. After it had made the journey to Twilight's eyes, they shut tighter for a moment before blinking several times in a vain attempt to banish the light from them. Failing that, Twilight held up a hand to keep the light from blinding her and slowly getting up into a sitting position, yawning and stretching. I feel rested, Twilight thought to herself, gazing out one of the massive windows in her chambers atop one of Canterlot Castle's towers. It feels irresponsible, Twilight thought with a grimace as she got off her bed and made her way for the bathroom.

Stripping her nightgown from her body, Twilight turned on the water for the shower, wanting to take this time to at least get clean before resuming her work. While waiting for the water to warm, her reflection caught her gaze. Turning to look fully at herself in the bathroom's vanity mirror, she almost didn't recognize the woman that stared back. Her reflection showed a woman with dark bags under her eyes, eyes only now recovering from being bloodshot, hollow cheeks beginning to define themselves, and a look that was a mix of shock and hopelessness. The woman in the mirror looked terrible, not like the Twilight Sparkle Twilight remembered.

I know I hadn't been sleeping much, but... that's not me, Twilight thought slowly to herself. It wouldn't surprise her if she found grey hairs growing in her hair. She looked away in a mix of emotions she couldn't quite explain. All she knew is that she didn't want to see that woman anymore.

Testing the water with her hand, it felt soothingly warm and Twilight eagerly entered, sighing contently as the water rhythmicly hit her body and fell down it, relaxing any aches, pains, and cramps her endless hours of work had given her. She closed her eyes and let her mind go blank, only noticing the warm water running down her body, refreshing her in more senses then she could count. She turned around and let the water run down her back, allowing her to grab shampoo and work it through her hair, several knots making her grunt in pain more than once. Geeze, my hair's a mess... Twilight thought, rinsing the shampoo out. After washing her body and then conditioning her hair, she turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry herself off with.

After putting on a bathrobe, Twilight walked to the massive dresser/vanity mirror that rested in her bedroom and sat on the stool in front of it. She grabbed a brush and set to getting her hair more or less knot-free so that putting it up wouldn't be as much of a hassle. She had the unfortunate experience of getting grabbed by the hair and dragged to snapping, rotted jaws. Thanks to the quick thinking and quicker actions of a nearby guard, the subject's hand was severed and then the subject was terminated right then and there. Every time Twilight felt something brush her back, she could feel the phantom tug of the subject and still imagine the severed hand still firmly grip her hair in an awkward handful.

Putting that memory on a mental shelf she didn't intend on visiting soon, Twilight did her hundredth stroke of her brush, as she normally did, and placed the brush down to get a hair tie to turn her cascading hair into a manageable ponytail. While fiddling with her hair, a guard opened her door, with a familiar soft voice, "Princess, Princess Celestia requests an audience with you."

Twilight turned to look at Flash Sentry will pausing in her hair handiwork, "Did she say what for?"

Flash shook his head, "No ma'am. But she made it clear she wanted to see you as soon as you were awake."

Twilight turned back to her mirror to finish putting her hair up when a thought occurred to her, "As soon as I was awake? She waited for me to wake up? If it's so urgent, why would she wait?"

Flash looked like he wanted to say something, but seemed to not want to for some reason out of his control. "She... she knows how hard you've been working, and wanted to make sure you had a level, rested, head for what she needs to discuss with you," Twilight could tell that what he said wasn't the whole truth, but also not a lie.

Twilight met his gaze with her own and kept her eyes on his with as much authority she could put in them. Her gaze said If there's anything else you should say, now's the time, in a way that words never could. After a few moments, Flash was the first to look away. Twilight let out a small sigh before heading for her closet. "Wait outside for me to get dressed. Once I am, we will walk to where the Princess is waiting for me."

Flash saluted, "Yes, ma'am!"

Twilight giggled slightly, "There's no need for that."

Flash seemed slightly flustered, but dropped his salute, "Very well, Princess. I'll be outside."

Once his back was turned, Twilight grew a flustered look of her own. What was that about? She thought to herself. I don't exactly love my duties and perks of being a princess, but I don't have the guards dismiss their normal actions... so why did I do that for him? Twilight didn't have an answer for that. Twilight didn't like her new authority that came with being a princess, but she used it because she needed to appear strong and in control in her country's time of need. But wielding it was a doubled-edged sword for her. While it got her point across and established her role as a Princess in solid rock, it wasn't who she was. She wasn't one to give orders and be pampered; she was one for action when action was needed.

But in times like these, everyone need to change... for better or worse.

Sometimes both.

* * *

Finished dressing into a flowing purple dress suitable for presenting to the Princess, Twilight exited her room to find Flash waiting as he said he would. Upon seeing Twilight, Flash's eyes went from top to bottom of Twilight, "Wow, Princess... you look beautiful."

Twilight blushed and gave a sheepish smile, "It's just a simple dress. Nothing extravagant."

Flash gave her a gentile smile, "My statement still stands."

Twilight smiled back, "Well, thank you," It was nice to smile again.

"Anytime, Princess."

Twilight cleared her throat, "Anyway, where am I meeting Celestia at?"

Flash's smile disappeared and he regained his look of being a dutiful guard, "Celestia is waiting for you in the gardens in the castle's inner courtyard, ma'am."

"The gardens? I wonder why we're meeting there?" Twilight pondered. Nowadays hardly seemed like an appropriate time to stop and smell the flowers. Not with all the chaos that people were being subjected to.

"Celestia said that she thought the fresh air would do you some good. She also commented on what a lovely day it is outside," Flash said, though he hardly seemed able to believe his own words.

" 'A lovely day'?" Twilight asked in angered disbelief, "I would hardly use a phrase like 'a lovely day' to describe any day we've had recently! It's chaos outside! People are dieing, homes are being destroyed, everything is going to Tartarus outside!" Twilight said angrily, almost yelling.

"Princess, I agree with you wholeheartedly, but we have our jobs to do. Without a working government with level-headed people at the wheel ready to take on the big challenges and make the tough calls, everything would get a whole lot harder than it already is," Flash explained, though the caution in his voice was evident.

"Our government is doing a poor job of that. I've heard reports from the 'safe zone' down in the city. There's a crime lord down there for Celestia's sake! He's still running his operation down there as well, extorting people, stealing from people, killing people! Why hasn't the Guard arrested him and his goons yet?!" Twilight demanded, her voice echoing in the deathly-silent halls.

"Because if we all just stormed him, there would be a panic! A firefight would be more than likely and there is a huge chance of not only innocent deaths, but a fire or even a full-blown riot! We are barely keeping it peaceful as it is in the safe zone, if we just went in and started shooting, people would panic and we would have much bigger problems," Flash said.

They walked quietly for some time, Twilight processing what Flash told her and Flash mentality kicking himself for yelling at her.

After a time that felt like an hour, Flash was the first to break the silence, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, ma'am. It's not in my place to do so, or tell you what you should and shouldn't do."

Twilight sighed before speaking, "I'm sorry, too. With all that's going on, I haven't been myself lately. I shouldn't have yelled at you, you've done nothing wrong."

"Thank you Princess. You are most kind," Flash said, bowing slightly. "We have arrived."

Twilight looked at the door that entered into the courtyard. "Wait here, Flash. I feel like I'll need someone to talk to once this conversation is over. Also, what station are you posted at?" Twilight asked.

"Castle patrol during the day and guarding The Ca- I mean, containment at night," Flash said.

"Hmm. I'm changing your post to laboratory guard for your entire shift," Twilight ordered.

Flash bowed slightly, "As you wish, Princess."

Twilight sighed slightly, "Let's see what Celestia needs to talk about..." She muttered to herself.

Act 1, Part 1- Octavia: Humanity

Octavia dropped the bat, followed by a few *Clang*s as it bounced from one end to the other before rolling to the dead couple and resting at their feet. Bright red mixed with pale wood and a small trail went in a weak semi-circle from the droplets that marked its landing. Octavia's hands shook, then her arms, then all of her body shook. She hardly registered that Vinyl was breathing heavily and holding herself up with her hands on her knees from her brush with death. Octavia stumbled back a step, then another, and finally fell on her rear, her eyes locked on the two corpses. Only one thought echoed in her mind:

I killed her...

Tears began flowing down her cheeks at the thought. Octavia almost couldn't process what she had done; it was just so surreal that she, Octavia, even had the strength to do such a thing. Octavia had never intentionally hurt anyone or anything, but she killed this woman. A small voice in her head told her that it was needed, that if Octavia hadn't acted like she did, Vinyl could have died. She also hesitated, almost for too long, and put Vinyl in serious danger because of her inability to act, because she was paralyzed with fear. Because of her hesitation to kill her, that made it okay, right? She wasn't a killer, right?

... Right?

Vinyl lifted her head after gaining her breath, only to see Octavia staring at the two dead bodies through teary eyes. "Hey, hey, Tavi... you did what you had to," Vinyl said in as calm a voice as she could. All this sound was going to get someone- or somethings -attention, and they couldn't stay long.

"I killed her..." Octavia said below even a whisper, her eyes remaining on the bodies.

"Uh... what was that, Tavi?" Vinyl asked, packing up the canned food and their meager amount possessions.

"I... killed her..." Octavia wasn't going to be able to hold back sobs for much longer.

"Octavia, you have to speak up. And get up, we don't have much-"

"I killed her..." Octavia said with a strange calm. Her eyes were still crying, her body still shaking, but her voice was perfectly level.

This sentence caught Vinyl's full, undivided attention. She shouldered the backpack containing their food and knelt down next to her friend. "Octavia Philharmonica, you did not kill her. She was already dead-"

"I killed her, Vinyl," Octavia interrupted. Her voice was still strangely calm.

"No, you didn't. Something else killed her, and she isn't the person she once was. Now, she's just another mindless monster. She's not the person that she looks like anymore," Vinyl kept her voice calm, but they were quickly running out of time. She had to get Octavia on her feet and fast.

"But she was still a person once-" Vinyl had enough.

"Look, Tavi, we don't have time for this. You need to get up and we need to get the fuck outta here. That much noise is going to make something curious, and we need to be anywhere but here when it-"

The window in the living room smashed inward, followed by the ghastly moan of one of them.

"Fuck!" Vinyl spat as she grabbed the bat, ran forward, and smashed whatever was crawling through the window with enough force to knock it back out. It, along with several others, moaned and the shuffling of several pairs of feet could be heard outside. "Tavi, get up!" Vinyl said sternly, another window smashing somewhere in the house. When she didn't, Vinyl grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her up. Once she was on her feet, Octavia snapped out of whatever trance came over her only for it to be replaced with fear.

"Vinyl... I-I'm sorry, I don't-" Octavia couldn't believe how stupid she had been acting.

"Tavi, we can talk about this later. Right now, we need to get the hell outta Dodge!" Vinyl cut her off, bashing another zombie as it tried to make its way through the living room window. With this one, the blinds fell with it, revealing a crowded street full of them making their way to the house slowly.

"O-okay," Octavia said, feeling like she was moving underwater. She gathered her small backpack, pocketed the cellphone, and placed the book she had been reading in her bag before shouldering it, *Crack!*s sounding all the while as Vinyl beat back the undead set on devouring them. "I'm ready!" She said to Vinyl.

"Good! Let's go!" Vinyl said, beating one last zombie back through the window, their face almost caving in from the sheer force of the impact. They dropped with one last weak hiss of breath before another one tripped over their body.

Vinyl turned from the window and jogged across the living room, smashing the last window with her bat to give them an escape from the near-surrounded house. "Over here, through the window!" Vinyl ordered, clearing the final shards with her bat.

As Octavia went to move for the window, she was pulled back suddenly. She was able to turn around just before the snapping teeth could bite into her, but just barely. She put one hand to the undead attacker's face and another to their chest. "Vinyllll!" Octavia shrieked, the yellowed teeth still snapping at her while it's infernal moan drilled into her ears.

Vinyl turned around and sprinted at the two. "Get-" Vinyl cocked her arm back, "-the fuck-" She punched the zombie with enough force to make its head snap back and for it to release its grip, "-off of her!"

Once Octavia's attacker fell, writhing and moaning on the ground, Vinyl grabbed Octavia's hand and pulled her to the window, three other undead having entered the room and shuffling after them. "Come on, go!" Vinyl said, ushering Octavia to the window. Octavia carefully stepped through, looking left then right for any undead before turning around.

"It's clear!" Octavia reported, Vinyl delivering another *Crack!* at a zombie, making its head snap back, then stumble, and fall onto another zombie, dropping both of them.

"Comin' through!" Vinyl said, jumping through the window.

Octavia looked around again, wondering where they would go from here. It looked like they were in the back yard of the house, a neat fence lining the edge of the property. In the farthest corner was a small patio with a table and chairs that, perhaps one day some time ago, hosted a small gathering of friends in summer. Vinyl moved forward to the table, pushing it until it hit the fence and climbed on top of it. "We're going over, Tavi," Vinyl said, easily mounting the fence and disappearing over the edge.

Turning back, Octavia could see the living room was now full of infected, but there was something odd about it. Well, aside from all the corpses walking in it. It seemed too bright, like there was a light or a-

A fire.

The house was on fire.

In their haste, they didn't put out the fire they were going to use for breakfast.

"Tavi! You okay?!" Vinyl called from over the fence.

"Y-yes! I'm coming!" Octavia called back. She climbed onto the table, mounted the top of the fence, and dropped to the ground on the other side with a small, "Oof!" They were now in the back yard of the house next door to the one they were sleeping in previously. "Vinyl?" Octavia asked, deciding that the inflamed house was rather important.

"What is it?" Vinyl asked, already moving another patio chair to the far fence so they could continue their escape.

"The house is on fire."

Vinyl set the chair down at the base of the fence before turning to look at Octavia. "Seriously?"

Octavia nodded.

Vinyl shrugged before climbing onto the chair, "It'll burn all the ones in it then," Her voice was very cold, enough to chill Octavia.

\_/ /-\ \_/

They continued hopping over fences for three more properties before they reasoned that they were far away enough from the burning house to be 'safe'. In that time, they had a surprisingly normal trip; they didn't encounter any undead, didn't find anything of use, and, most thankfully, didn't stumble across any bodies. But one thing Octavia saw plenty of were memories.

They weren't hers, per say, but images of what life had been once in these yards. While all was quiet aside from the cracks and crumbles of the burning house, in Octavia's mind's eye, she saw families enjoying the late Fall weather. She could see husbands and fathers racking leaves, wife's and mothers playing with sons and daughters with the leaves. She could see and hear the family dog bark happily as one of them threw a toy for it to fetch, It was a nice scene of normality, one Octavia almost could believe was true. But with the cold gust of wind that brought the scent of burning flesh, it took with it the scene Octavia could see.

Even if the world went back to normal, it never truly would be again.

At least, not for a long while.

"Hey, Tavi. Look at that house," Vinyl said, bringing Octavia's attention back to what was 'normal' for her.

Octavia walked over to the fence line that Vinyl was standing at, looking over it by standing on a plastic chair. Octavia looked around for one, and upon finding it, carried it over to the fence before setting it down and stepping up to see over the wood fence. What she saw looked like any other house they had found; most likely abandoned, colorful paint job, a strange mix of panicked disarray and calm nothingness surrounding it and the few possessions scattered around it. "What's so special about it, Vinyl? It looks like a normal house..." Octavia said, wondering what had Vinyl so transfixed on it.

"Look over there, at that window," Vinyl said, pointing to one of the first-story windows.

When Octavia did, she couldn't see inside. There was a steel covering over the window, almost like a shutter from the inside of the house. "They have metal shutters. What about it?" Octavia asked, not following what Vinyl was getting at.

"Back before... all this happened, there was talk around town about special houses meant to survive natural disasters. Guess this town could get pretty hectic even before dead people were walking around it. Remember?" Vinyl explained, her eyes meeting Octavia's when she asked if she remembered.

Octavia's eyes widened slowly, for she did. "Yes, I do! They had just finished testing a preposel to improve houses in town to aid people in natural disasters by making houses self-sufficient!"

"So, if this one has steel shutters..." Vinyl prompted Octavia to finish her thought.

"... Then it should be one of the projects!" Octavia said.

"Then that means it has food," Vinyl said.

"Water,"

"Electricity,"

"And protection!" Octavia finished.

"Let's see if anyone's home," Vinyl said, vaulting over the fence.

Octavia followed suit, landing with a huff. She never was one for physical activity, but in this world, no one had much a choice but to be so. Vinyl tightened her grip on her bat and slowly, quietly approached the house. Octavia followed a few paces behind her, not close enough to be of help- or a liability -in a fight, but not far enough so that it would only take a few seconds to help Vinyl if, Goddesses forbid, she needed it. They got up to the window that had the steel shutter covering it, the glass smashed out of it and ragged, sharp pieces spotted with blood on the shards that were left. When she was close enough, Vinyl knocked on the steel shutter a few times with her bat.

*Tunk, tunk, tunk.*

They waited a few moments to see if someone, or something, reacted to the noise. After a few tense moments of silence, Vinyl began moving stealthily for the side door to the house, one that was slightly ajar with old bloodstains on the lower corner as well as a hand print in crimson. "Guess it wasn't too safe for them," Vinyl whispered. Octavia was sure she didn't intend for Octavia to hear her. Vinyl used the end of her bat to make the door swing inward the rest of the way, a slight creak slowly echoing in the supposedly empty house. Vinyl poked her head around the frame of the door and looked around a bit before the rest of her body slowly followed her head in.

Octavia followed shortly after, closing the door behind her, but not all the way, on the off chance that they needed a quick escape. All a closed door would do is take valuable seconds to open and endanger them further. This house would become their tomb.

Turning around, Octavia could see that it already had.

Lieing spread-eagle on the floor was a corpse with wide eyes, slack jaw, and a small, neat circle in the middle of their forehead. Flies buzzed excitedly around them, landing here and their across the cold skin. A hand shot to Octavia's mouth to stifle the gasp she released. It was a terrible sight, to be sure, but the smell... Octavia gagged slightly at the horrid stench that filled her nose and quickly covered her nose with the collar of her shirt, the dirty fabric being only just a step above the smell. "Tavi, over here," Vinyl whispered.

Octavia took one last glance at the dead person before carefully stepping over to where Vinyl stood, at the base of a staircase that rose to the second story of the house. "What... what is it, Vinyl?" She found it hard to talk with the suffocating stench.

"I'm going upstairs. If you hear anything, run up here unless I tell you not to. Until then, try and get him out of here," Vinyl paused for a moment. "... Please."

Octavia cast a sidelong glance at the dead man. She wasn't looking forward to moving him, but Vinyl was right, it needed to be done. "A... alright, Vinyl. Be careful," Octavia placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her.

Vinyl looked back and nodded, "Sure thing," And with that, she tip-toed her way upstairs.

Once she was out of sight, Octavia turned back to the body. Letting out a small sigh, she looked around for something to cover her skin and face with; the last thing she needed was to get sick moving a corpse. Spying what looked like a kitchen, Octavia creept over to it and took a look around. Cabinet doors were open, dishes split and broken, drawers opened... it was a mess. Whoever's house this was, they packed in a hurry. But, why would they want to leave if it was one of the houses meant to protect people? She pushed the question aside and located the sink, opening the cabinet below it. If these people were like her, then that meant they would keep a pair here...

"Ah ha!" Octavia whispered triumphantly, grabbing a pair of rubber gloves from the space under the sink. Putting on one, then the other, she looked around for a face mask that would cover her mouth and nose. Spying a box, she quickly grabbed it and looked at the cover. It was none other than a box full of face masks. "Yes!" She whispered excitedly, opening the top only to reveal that it was empty. She sighed and dropped the box. "Right. That would have been too easy..." She whispered in disappointment. Maybe they have some upstairs... Octavia thought to herself. Standing up, she slowly made her way for the stairs, leaning slightly to see up them. In the dim light of the house, that was easier said then done.

"Vinyl?" Octavia called up softly.

No response.

"Vinyl? Can you hear me?" Octavia called a little louder.

There was a sound, a light groan if she heard right.

"Vinyl? Is everything al-"

At the top of the stairs, a door burst open revealing Vinyl grappling with a zombie. They snapped at her while Vinyl pushed away at their face with her hand and shoved the end of the bat into their stomach, keeping them at bay, if only just. It moaned at her, their hands grasping her shoulders firmly and teeth snapping. Before Octavia had time to react to the situation, Vinyl gave a heavy grunt and shoved her undead attacker off of her, readied her bat, and swung.

*Crack!*

The zombie's head snapped to the side viciously, the clinking sound of teeth sounding at Octavia's feet. They stumbled for a few steps before their footing went over the stairs. Quickly losing its balance, they fell down the stairs, heavy *Thump*s and loud *Crack*s sounding as they tumbled. They came to a rest at Octavia's, feet, breathing weakly. Seeing her, they raised their arms slightly and gave a weak hiss of breath being forced through a broken neck. Their head was at an odd angle and one leg was bent the opposite direction that it should have. Vinyl quickly descended the staircase, lifted her bat, and swung it down.

*Crack!*

With one final hiss, it ceased to move.

Vinyl was panting from the effort of surviving the close encounter, for the second time today.

Octavia was merely frozen, caught completely off-guard at what had happened.

After a moment, Vinyl turned to look at Octavia, "Here's another to throw out."

Octavia simply looked at her, unsure how to react.

Vinyl looked down at her gloved hands before looking back up. "Is there another pair of those?"

Octavia was finally catching back up with reality. "Uh, y-yes. Below the... k-kitchen sink..." Octavia's gaze slowly made its way to the newly dead body at the foot of the stairs, still staring up at her with lifeless eyes.

Vinyl gently grabbed Octavia's chin with her hand and turned her head to face her. "Hey... it's okay. We're okay."

Octavia only looked at her for a moment before wrapping her in a hug. There wasn't anything that she wanted to say; she just needed a moment of peace in all of this madness. Vinyl set her bat down and wrapped her arms around Octavia, gently stroking her charcoal hair. Octavia's cheeks were wet with tears before she even realized she was crying. She held Vinyl tighter, "I want everything to go back to normal, Vinyl," She said in a horse whisper.

"Me too, Tavi. Me too."

\_/ /-\ \_/

"Alright, one more heave..." Vinyl said, somewhat strained. Octavia couldn't blame her; dead bodies were deceptively heavy. Vinyl grabbed the zombie's wrists while Octavia grabbed their ankles. "Ready?" Vinyl asked. Octavia nodded. "Alright... lift," Vinyl grunted. Octavia did too; she thought climbing fences was hard... "One..." Vinyl said. They began swinging back and forth. "Two..." Their swings were getting close to ready. "Three!" Vinyl said through her face mask. On the final swing, they let go of the body at the height of the swing and it tumbled over the fence top, almost not making it over. With a heavy *Thump*, they knew the body hit the other one they tossed over. Octavia thought it wasn't right to just throw two dead men over a fence, but they had no other choice. They couldn't risk getting sick, and two dead bodies aren't exactly sanitary.

Vinyl panted a bit before looking at Octavia. "Glad that's over... let's see if this house is everything we think it is."

"I really hope it is..." Octavia said, walking behind Vinyl. Vinyl looked much more intimidating with her face mask on. She knew she would never hurt her, but still... it was unnerving.

Opening the side door, Vinyl was the first in, with Octavia closing the door behind them. Vinyl walked over to the nearest light switch on the wall. "Moment of truth... you ready, Tavi?" Vinyl asked, looking at her.

"Yes..." Octavia said. Goddesses, please, let this work...

Vinyl flipped the switch.

Light illuminated the room immediately.

Vinyl and Octavia almost couldn't believe it. The light was on. The light actually turned on! Octavia quickly pulled her mask down, being careful not to touch her skin. "Vinyl! The lights are on!" She said excitedly, a happy smile plastered to her face.

Vinyl pulled her mask down as well. "Holy fucking shit, they are!" Vinyl said.

Octavia ran forward with a cry of joy and threw her arms around Vinyl, "The lights are on!" Octavia said, her voice muffled by Vinyl's shirt.

Vinyl hugged her back, lightly bouncing up and down in place, "I know they are! This fucking ROCKS!" After a few moments, Vinyl suddenly released Octavia, "The sink! Turn on the sink!" Vinyl said, pointing at the kitchen sink.

Octavia quickly made her way to the sink on the kitchen counter and pulled one of the handles for the faucet. As soon as she did, water, clear as glass, poured out of the head of the faucet. "Yes!" Octavia said before lowing her head and drinking greedily from the water source. It was only tap water, but after a month of stale bottled water that the Goddesses only know was how old, it was the best-tasting water that Octavia ever drank.

"Wait down here! I'm gonna check something!" Vinyl said, quickly making her way upstairs. Octavia took several more drinks before she pulled away from the faucet, drops of water still running down her chin. She gasped slightly before laughing a bit. They were safe. They were finally safe.

Nothing was going to hurt them.

Vinyl nearly ran down half the stairs, pausing at the halfway point. "The shower works! Hot water and everything!" Vinyl said, a huge grin on her face.

"You're kidding! You had best not be kidding, Vinyl!" Octavia said happily.

"I'm not! I'm totally serious! Dibs on first shower!" Vinyl said, racing back up the stairs and not bothering to wait until she got in the bathroom to strip off her shirt.

All this excitement got Octavia lightheaded and she wobbled over to the couch where she nearly collapsed and laughed a few more times. She was about to get her book out when a thought occurred to her. If there is electricity and running water, then there must be... She stood up and made her way for the kitchen. When she did, she opened the one door she hadn't dare open before making sure that anything else worked: the pantry door. She grabbed the handle with a shaky hand and took a deep breath. Here goes... Octavia thought to herself. She opened the door.

The sight of cans upon cans of food was almost enough to make Octavia cry.

She looked around for a bowl in one of them many cabinets, and upon finding one, grabbed the first can that caught her eye, chicken noodle soup. She opened a drawer to find a can opener and quickly opened the can, dumping the contents into the bowl. She found the microwave, opened the door to the small device and put the bowl of cold soup it. Five minutes almost seemed cruel, but if it meant hot food, Octavia would be more than willing to wait. She tapped her foot impatiently while the small appliance whirred and the bowl spun around in a small circle. A thought occurred to her: Spoon! I need a spoon. After digging through a few drawers, she found one, the microwave beeping to signal the soup's completion.

Octavia quickly opened the microwave and was delighted to see steam rising in small wisps from the surface of the bowl. She hardly waited before plunging her spoon into the bowl and blowing softly onto the spoon a few times before eating. The burn from the soup didn't matter too much; it was the best food Octavia had ever had in her life. Speaking of good food...

Octavia walked briskly over to where Vinyl had placed their food bag and opened the top, the little pink box sitting atop the food to greet her. She picked it up gently, as though being too rough would cause the box to shatter. Opening the lid, it was a little disappointing to see that during their escape the cake had suffered minor smears, but it was still beautiful in Octavia's eyes.

"Done with the shower!" Vinyl called down from the upper floor.

After what was sure to be the greatest shower she's ever had, Octavia would enjoy her cake.

\_/ /-\ \_/

Drying off, Octavia was beyond refreshed. That was, indeed, the single greatest shower she had ever had. It's funny; you never truly appriciate something until you don't have it anymore. Like warm water. And electricity. And food. There are so many things that Octavia has come to realize just how much she missed when the world went insane. And the best was waiting for her downstairs.

Wrapping the towel around her chest so it covered down to partway past her hips, she turned to admire her figure free of dirt, cuts, blood and so many other things she didn't bother to even think about. She smiled a true, genuine smile, the first she's smiled like in a while. It was nice to see her smile again. It was nice to be able to smile again. Even with the world outside the walls, she still had this moment, this safehaven, to smile in as she pleased.

A knock on the doorframe made her turn to see Vinyl, clothed once again. She was wearing a dark black tanktop and faded jeans that had a hole on the right knee. "It's nice, huh?" Vinyl asked, a slight smile on her face. It was nice seeing Vinyl's face free of dirt and blood.

Octavia's mind was elsewhere. "Y-yeah... it is," She said, almost to herself. Her eyes had gone from Vinyl's feet and back to her head.

When they did, Vinyl's smile had grown into a smirk. "Y'know, I was talking about the shower."

Octavia felt a blush heat her cheeks. "Oh, uh, y-yes. It was very relaxing," Octavia stammered out.

Vinyl chuckled. "Come on, Tavi. What's up with you? You've been acting weird for the past couple of months," Vinyl said, her smile still there.

Well, Octavia. She's literally asked you. Now is as good a time as ever... Her thoughts weren't convincing her mouth. She opened her mouth to say the words that she wanted to say, but they refused to leave. She closed her mouth and looked to the floor abashed.

Vinyl had a look of slight worry. "What is it, Tavi? You can tell me anything," She said softly.

Octavia bolstered what little courage she had and looked up. Her eyes found crimson ones, and they became lost. In Vinyl's eyes she found the support and stregnth she needed to tell her what had been bothering her for so long. She took a deep breath and a step forward, only to slip in a slight puddle. Octavia released her breath in the form of a yelp of surprise and threw her arms forward to catch herself, with Vinyl moving forward to catch her and losing her footing. Their momentum carried them to the floor, both landing with an "Oof". When Octavia opened her eyes, she found they were very close to Vinyl's.

Realizing she fell on top of Vinyl, her blush returned and her heart hammered away in her chest. For a moment, Octavia and Vinyl looked at one another with blank expressions. Octavia felt like the best, most natural thing to do was just lean in and kiss her. She moved her head slowly towards Vinyl's, and much to her delight, Vinyl moved her head slowly up to hers. Right before their lips brushed, a loud *Click* made both girls freeze.

"Up." A gruff voice demanded.