FoE: Snippet Story

Chapters

Magnificent
The Wind
The Legend of Queen Whiskey
Zemblanity
Rote Rememorisation
Stable Dwellers Ragtime Downbeat (Promo Reel)
The Grim Velvet Monster of Silent Lake
Darkness
Plinth
Crisis Dynamic
Get Your Corrugated Imitation Tombstone Today
Coats of Many Colors
Adventurer
Deseret
Wicked
Damnatio Memoriae
Deathwatch
Beneath A Colorless Sky
Tides
Dance of Distant Waters
Rumble in the Broncs
Dissonance
The Fifteenth Squadron
Sanity's Gate
Echoing Laughter
Redline Overload
Downwards
Cold Storage
P.O.P.R.
Skytrail's Meteorite Rocket Train to Nowhere
I Have No Muzzle and I Must Whinny
Ketchup Fountain, or, What Happened To Magnificent
Legend Redux
Where Ponies Dare
Alarm Bells
Truth
Game Board
Once & Future Past
Burden of Power
The Little Things
Strangled Forest
Let's Bake a Cake
Lost Path
Warpony
Villainy Ballad
Ghost
She Really Hated That Science Oven
Tears of The Broken
Crying Game
Plant Life
Shadow Venture
Auton
A Series of Irrelevant Events
Here We Gather
Only What You Earn
A Traveler's Tail or Two
Pegasus Piano Sonata In The Key of Die

Magnificent

Eight floors under the ground within the very bottom level of the Stable-Tec auxiliary status & research center stood one of the most handsome, most self-absorbed, and vain unicorn stallions in all the wide wide world of Equestria. Everything about him was perfect, or so he thought. He remained motionless in a blazing white suit of power armor that seemed to gleam even in the dim lights of the underground structure. Emblazoned in gold relief atop a left-to-right crest of black and white alicorns facing one another surrounded by a wing motif was a name-plate stating 'Magnificent'. He would have asked how she kept her mane flowing like that, except he was in trouble. Again. His secret was out.

One of them anyway, which is why he wore the armor. He might as well be out with it. Magnificent removed his helmet to reveal piercing amber eyes and a lustrous golden mane trailing behind him like a waterfall. A large, striking figure indeed, except compared to her. Princess Luna herself was glaring straight at him with a look of utter disdain.

"General, you are hereby...wait, do you smell like vanilla & strawberries?" she said in her stately mannered way.

"Oh that, it's just from my new line of mane and tail care products." he responded quietly, his voice holding a deep almost musical tone.

"Your new li.." she stopped abruptly. The team of technicians and scientists sitting at their respective terminals gave furtive looks of concern between one another.

"Ahem, how you ever managed to rise to the rank of general is beyond my comprehension. Your recent actions put an entire company at risk." She looked him over coldly in that way only she seemed able to manage.

"You gave an order that left them without support and many smaller squads cut off from help. This coupled with your abuse of privilege has led to your sentence which will now be carried out." She practically spat the words at him.

"General, your sentence would normally have been dishonorable discharge; however, in view of your heretofore heroically conducted service and knowledge of several key strategic assets, I command you instead enter this prototype hypno-stasis pod for a period of seven months. Hopefully you will emerge a better pony. Prepare thyself." Little could they have suspected the war would last only another five. He stared at the bulky tube-like contraption with its multitudes of cables only a moment then resolutely stepped towards it.

"As loathe I am to take such a commodity away from battle I am told you do not need to remove that ridiculous armor you so selfishly directed resources towards. Nopony else would don it anyway associated as it is with such disrepute. You will not be aware of it or anything else." Luna motioned the technicians to open the pod door. One hit a switch as it hissed open ominously, the curved door swinging wide to the left.

"But I'm supposed to attend a book signing tonight for my new book, 'The Incredibly Extremely Superawsomazing Adventures of Magnificent'! It's even being made into a comic strip," he pouted, putting on a face as closely imitating a crying puppy that he could muster while laying back his ears. He looked truly pathetic.

This only served to increase the princess' ire towards him, her expression a grim contrast to his. He gave up the effort to garner sympathy immediately. It would not pay to anger her further.

"Your personal popularity with the public has been taken into account, and influenced our decision." She looked towards the awkward apparatus. Off to the sides the technicians went about whatever business it was that kept their attention. Were the rooms not separated nothing but a great cacophony would have been heard what-with the endless clicking and beeping of various devices and machines of purpose that most ponies outside of the ministries could not possibly understand or even begin to comprehend.

A slight pulsing in the walls gave out seemingly random hisses and overall impression was that many hidden things were going on. He strode past the princess and in passing merely said:

"Right or wrong, this is what you must do." Her hard glare seemed to soften for an instant and looked nearly to be in tears as she responded so barely audibly only he noticed it.

"I..am sorry." Nearly immediately, the edge returned to her gaze as she pointed a hoof at the strange machine. He turned and backed into the device, setting his helmet to the side.

He thought at least the last thing he would see for months before the door closed was something beautiful. He would never say it to either of the princesses but figured most felt she and her sister were indeed gorgeous. He sat watching the door swing and slide shut with a clunk. A small motorized armature plugged into the armors diagnostic connector as another slowly moved in to inject some arcane chemical brew into his neck. He gazed out the small windowed slot unflinching as the machine came to life. A beam of softly flickering light projected over his face. He felt what he thought was a chill run down his spine, then the darkness took him.

Dreams came and went, visions of war, pain, and sadness, then verdant lush fields of green, forests and peace. For however long this continued, small impressions of feelings such as loyalty and friendship intruded almost unnaturally. Suddenly a brilliant flash impressed itself upon him.

"Something is wrong." He found himself thinking, and thinking in this state was not usual or so he assumed. Over countless days he occasionally thought he heard a noise or saw an anguished looking pony face pressed to the slot looking in at him but this was not possible.

The light took him again and again to dreams, working at him in whatever mysterious way it was designed to. At times he thought he'd come around only to see dimly flickering light or shadows and fall into dreams once more, though he also imagined this to be impossible.

"I cannot be aware, I must be dreaming, must be..must be." Consciousness did somehow seem to come and go to him. One time in a quick fleeting flash he thought he saw a tan pony hammering on the pod with a large wrench only to be whisked away to dreams yet again.

"Surely only an odd fantasy concocted by a mind locked in solitude." He imagined, but thinking that made him feel somehow cold.

"I cannot be feeling anything..no I am..no..." A strange shaking sensation brought him to slow groggy awareness only to find pitch black awaiting him. He really did feel extremely cold. His eyes seemed very unfocused. He went to lift an armored hoof only to feel horrible pain shoot throughout his body, as he yelped at the unexpected sensation the suit's automatic systems administered a small dose of painkillers.

"Whoa Nelly, that stuff works fast!" he blurted out, it seemed to echo hollowly in the chamber. He gently rubbed his aching head a moment in the pitch, his faculties slowly returning to him. He took note of a small red dot of light above him.

"Hello, anypony there?" nothing responded to his query. For the moment he only knew he was hurting, still in the pod and something was terrifically amiss. He gently felt around for his helmet and finding it gingerly slipped it down over his head and horn. When the helmet connected to the suit with a hiss, floating gauges and messages glimmered and settled into his vision.

Flashing warnings he never seen before told him the armors power matrix was only at 22% and that he should seek medical attention for slight muscle atrophy. One brightly colored notice caught his attention at once, an indicator marked 'Minor Brain Damage'.

"What!?" his now muffled speech sounding almost unfamiliar to himself.

"Easy now," he thought. "Maybe I am still dreaming? ...feels real enough." He collected himself and and reached up once again more slowly and cautiously, pressing at the pod door. It did not budge.

"Oh Celestia, what is happening here?." His heart was pounding. He turned on the suits magically infused headlamp finding himself only able to see his reflection in the doors small slot.

"Hello there, handsome as ever..oh wait." He peered into the glass. Having some light did comfort him a little. In the limited space he slowly stretched and worked his muscles gently until they did not feel quite as stiff. He activated the suits comm system and spoke.

"All channels: Any allied pony forces please respond." His message was greeted with a strangely terrifying static.

"Must be the walls of this thing." He thought to himself.

"But why is nopony getting me out of this contraption?" A small degree of panic began to creep over him as he considered what to do. Confined as he was he hit at the door heavily but it merely resulted in the clanging of metal on metal. After wearying of this he tried to calm himself. In his frustration he checked the suits weapon status, bringing up a load-out list which read:

Launcher 1: 6 Creeper Bypass Projectiles.

Launcher 2: M.I.C.: 10 S. Compaction Casings.

Weapon 1: SMG: 200 Standard. 200 AP. 200 Incendiary.

Weapon 2: AutDefGun: 30 standard defense. 30 E.M.P.

The suit itself & the two launchers he secretly commissioned the creation of himself and knew they would be of no use in this situation, any of the others if fired in this space could ricochet back. Firing the smaller guns would be useless and using either of the launchers would probably result in killing himself.

"I have to think..I will not let a tin can hold a beautiful fellow like myself, what should I do?" He shut his eyes tightly a moment then called up the suits diagnostics. The pod connector was still attached and should give him any info it had.

"This cannot be working right." He spoke to himself more to steady his nerves than anything else.

The display indicated the surrounding structure was under attack, but only showed one threat in a direction that should be impossible. He could only think that maybe some sort of Zebra attack was underway. He needed out. The suit did have a physical strength burst mode, but using it would drain the power reserves a further 5%. He might be unable to recharge it for some time if battle was joined. It should have been drawing power from the connector. A connection must have been severed somewhere in the center. He realized inside the door were two hinges which he might be able to pry off, which turned out to be slow tedious work. He chipped and pulled at the hefty hinges which took well over an hour.

Finally the heavy hinges gave way with a satisfying ping, the door falling off in the dark sending puffs of dust flying.

"Dust?" Surely the technicians would never have let it become so dirty in here. Now he knew something was very off. Feeling warmer just being able to move, he pulled off the connector. Stepping out of the pod slow and aching he panned the headlamp around to be startled at what he saw. Three unusually well-preserved technicians corpses lay amidst strewn debris, one lay back against a frizzing terminal clutching a large pipe wrench to him, occasionally twitching from the sparks. Floating gauges indicated the air outside the pod to be toxic with some unknown element.

Fortunately, he'd needed his helmet on before opening the door. The bodies looked nearly mummified. How long could they have possibly been here?, he wondered. The other two seemed to have been fighting each other, were those bite marks on one? The skull of the other seemed to be crushed, probably with the wrench. What could have driven ponies to perform such brutality on one another? Though it looked like a fight took place, all three seemed starved. The one with the wrench he recognized, he really had not dreamed that. The poor fellow was at some point thrown back to be impaled on a jagged edge of the sparking terminal, probably bucked right in the chest from the look of him.

It was sheer happenstance he still held the wrench to him. Magnificent pulled the body from the terminal so that it might finally lay still. He felt nausea at the effort. He could tell he'd been in the pod longer than expected, but just how long passed? He looked to the rooms door. The automatic systems sealed it for whatever reason and some great force acted on it, warping it inwards. Pressing the open switch it ground but would not budge. The center still displayed some power, but it should have plenty. The research center held at its core one of the most advanced prototypes of the spark reactor line. Red emergency lighting flickered off and on lending a further sense of urgency to his predicament.

He opened a manual plate to the side and magically started cranking a spinner bar around. He found it was very slow going as it forced the door open along its track, eventually just enough for him to pass into the hallway. Fortunately it warped in the middle and not along the edges or it may never have opened. As thick as the centers doors were, even the launchers would never have blown through it. The scene was much the same in the hall. The building's great reinforced construction warped at various points from some impossibly tremendous impact above. Occasional emergency lights still flickered dimly here and there. Whatever powered the lights was either damaged or close to out of power itself.

His next thought was that he should try to get to surface level as quick as possible, but the elevator here fell to the bottom for some reason. This left only the stairwells, which could be dangerous not only due to the damage but could be difficult to maneuver on and leave him exposed each time he turned a corner. The suit listed no friendlies at all, only the same far-off single threat as before. It must be a mistake. The direction of its position placed it where it just could not be. He trotted down the hall passing other jammed doors. He found himself wondering if similar incidents to the pod room occurred or if any ponies were trapped in the other rooms, but brushed such a horrible thought aside for now.

Even in a low-power state the suit should be able to tell if even a single friendly pony was around, or alive. He made his way to the first set of stairs. It seemed clear, so he made his way upwards cautiously. There was still no sign of any other pony. The scale of the damage shocked him. Two floors up he could not continue further, as a great pile of debris blocked his progress. He went back to the unexplored floor hoping another stairwell or undamaged elevator would be open somewhere. The suit was not designed for stealth. Each hoof-step echoed dully in the long corridors. If anything was around -- friend or foe -- it would surely have heard him coming. As before, all doors were sealed.

He found himself more curious now, but thought better of wasting time prying doors open. This situation felt worse the more time went by while he looked for a way up. Seeking another set of stairs was taking far longer than he expected. Didn't anypony ever put signs up or anything? The suit's nav system was not much use in here. Inside a building it could only give a general direction out. In this instance it was locked on the broken main elevator, making it less than useless. Advanced as it was there were still problematic issues. Turning at a junction, he caught sight of another stairwell, a fallen steel support partially blocking the way.

With some effort it shifted out of his way allowing him to continue up 4 more floors, where the stairs just ended at this level. Who made the layout of this place? It was absolutely confusing and not marked at all. How did anypony ever find their way around? He found himself thinking such things as the shimmering emergency lights continued to fade off and on along his path. Without the suit's headlamp, it would have been a much slower and surely more terrifying journey in the dark, as he never did get the hang of the light spell. Whenever he tried it he only blinded himself more than lit anything up. Finding a way out was taking far longer than he imagined.

This fact began to play on his mind as he aimlessly searched the seemingly endless halls and corridors. The damage seemed to be worse on this floor, impeding his progress even further. Though intact the walls here looked charred like some great fire roared through the floor. Again all the doors were sealed, giving no clue what happened. At some point he realized he was very hungry. Some food storage lockers were located throughout the facility, but he'd been in such a hurry he didn't notice the sensation beginning to burn in his gut. He would have to eat something soon. The suit did carry a small supply of water in an internal lining he could pull from a straw that connected up through the helmet.

Taking just a few sips did wonders. It tasted stale, but the suit filters kept it palatable. Working his way through the floor was tedious. Steel and rubble laid everywhere, forcing every step to be taken cautiously. The armor was so heavy each step through debris necessitated being carefully chosen to avoid toppling over. Finding a clear path was becoming more time consuming with every effort. There was no normal way to ascend to the next floor. Finally, he decided there was no choice but to try forcing open some of the side doors. Due to the same warping each door required to be forcibly cranked open, the strain of using so much magic just to slide the doors this way was taking a toll.

He never exerted so much magical effort in his whole life. The first two doors he opened were impassable. Structural supports and wiring hung down completely blocking both rooms. The third was no better thanks to some strange liquid pouring from two stories above that ate away through the ceiling and several floors below, leaving no floor at all. He could not go up or down through here. Pointing the headlamp up he could make out nothing above. Another three doors nearly exhausted him from the effort. One lead to an entirely empty room meaning his effort there was utterly wasted. Mounting frustration began to torment his thoughts.

Ponies could be in need of his help, yet here he was being held up by some metal and a chemical waterfall. What happened anyway, was some kind of bomb set off in the building? It would have been a huge blast to warp the very frame of a building, especially one mostly underground. He could only imagine the carnage that might await him above. Why had nopony awakened him?, and why had the three in the room with him seemingly gone insane? Why did the bodies seem so old? What was that strange toxic element in the air down there? Answers to these questions would have to wait. His only priority right now was to get outside and assist if possible. That was if he could even find a way outside.

This infernal maze of steel was getting on his nerves. Again and again doors lead absolutely nowhere or were blocked behind by structural damage, a feeling of hopeless futility settling in on him. His wanderings through the barren place had still not yielded an encounter with another pony, where did they all go? This place positively bustled with the comings and goings of scientific and engineering inclined alike. His next thought was that should the emergency lights fail he would have only the suit to rely on. Even in less dire circumstances this would be far from ideal, as it was he dare not remove the helmet.

The suit's power was unlikely to run out if he was cautious, but the very idea of it being the sole reliable thing was a frightening prospect. He engaged a still functional terminal in the hallway, bringing up a floor list. Two floors below was the reactor level.

"Perhaps if I go there I can get some of the main lights on at least, I can hardly see my glorious reflection." He muttered. Having been through here already, it was not so troublesome to find a way back to the open stairs. He headed back down into the depths of the stairwell.

Slowly he approached the level 6 door to find it already slightly ajar, a sign above read: Caution at all times, Spark Reactor containment room panels must not be circumvented. Pulling open the door revealed more of the same dark hallways. Arrows engraved in the walls actually gave directions for once.

"Control Room sounds promising." He spoke again to reassure himself. He took a moment to lean against the wall. His muscles still hurt some despite the drugs. He felt jittery, probably a side effect of the powerful painkiller. Once rested he continued on towards the control room.

This door was at the very end of a long hall at the very outside edge of the structure, and required clearance to open. Fortunately his rank gave such access. The button panel accepted his personal code, for once a door opened without trouble. As the door opened the suit registered a small but tolerable magical radiation signature, what greeted him further inside was horror. Red streaks lined the walls and ceiling, two pony skeletons charred nearly beyond recognition lay in unnatural positions over the control panels. A second threat indicator popped up on the display too late for him to react as a sudden impact from the side sent the armored unicorn splaying atop a broken monitor, he scrambled to his hooves only to turn and find some green abomination howling at him.

Was that a pony?, giving no time to think it made an odd gesture as it loosed some sort of energy blast directly at his front, enough to knock him over, as it hit the rad counter spiked for an instant. Going to get up again it leapt atop his back striking at him like some wild beast, hitting so hard he thought it might actually break through. Without the suits protection his spine would surely have been shattered by the assault. He pushed backwards slamming the violent creature into some type of machinery against the wall multiple times, then ran for the door as it let go. It was not about to let him do so. The terrible creature ran after him, but this time the suit's experimental close quarters automatic defense gun finally got an angle, firing a round backwards directly into its skull which set loose a vile spray. The horrid thing was still coming.

Magnificent leveled a wild buck at, sending the awful thing onto its back. It lay still, the threat indicator subsided from his vision.

"What in the princesses names!?" His heart pounding, he slowly moved closer to inspect the hideous thing, keeping weapons trained on it in case it was somehow still alive. Was it even a living thing at all? This was surely what happened to the two ponies in this room, but where did it come from? What was it? It looked like a pony. One thing was certain, this awful thing was not natural. Some Zebra trickery? That seemed unlikely.

Finally able to think a moment his eyes widened in shocked recognition, portions of a ruined Stable-Tec uniform still clung to its hindquarters. This monster was at one time a pony, the feeling of dread this discovery instilled was overwhelming. Did he just kill a fellow pony, or save him from a fate worse than death? Some time passed before he could bring himself to move again. On the opposite side of the room was an unusual door , partially open. The position of the door was against the outer wall, making little sense. A marking indicated: Emergency Access Platform.

"Maybe a way out?, oh thank my well-toned haunches." Had to pep talk himself after all.

He went to step through, then halted. The threat indicator which made no sense before now did. The direction lined up precisely in front of him as a strangely solid bar. He glared at the door, then pulled it open. A long wide corridor stretched out before him, at the end a separate access elevator. In the dark ahead six more of the things that were once ponies turned towards him, one stood in the elevator itself.

"Not again.." He said as he locked the SMG on target. Never having used the internal S.A.T.S system before, he found engaging it was awkward for him.

Time seemed to slow as he executed a short burst from the automatic, tearing through the first of the hideous caricatures of living things in front. It fell back with a dull thud. The burst ended, leaving him in serious trouble. Normally he would have fired the special second launcher at a group of targets such as this, except for the fact his spell compaction launcher was yet to be field tested. In this confined space it would also back-blast potentially destroying the elevator, possibly his only way out. All five remaining of the strange transmogrified green ponies were screeching. Running towards him down the hall, they moved with unnatural speed. Just seeing them approach made him feel weak in the legs.

Panic setting in he began backing up while firing between targets. The things simply did not care, did they have no feelings at all? Each was taking multiple shots, none even slowing down. Finally the second fell dead. This left four of the crazed foul things heading straight for him. Flashing bullets continued to fly in the dark, tearing through flesh and bone.

"No, stay away from me. I'm too handsome to die!" He yelled while continuing to spray bullets down the corridor, some ricocheting wildly. One of the creatures started to make that gesture like the first before. Recognizing the motion he unloaded a full 25 rounds at it in an effort to stop more clearly magical radioactive energy being hurled at him.

Spent shell casings clattered onto the floor. The noise of firing was nearly deafening. At last it seemed to engulf itself in flames while collapsing. Another of the creatures threw itself at him just as he stepped back through the door, slamming it mostly shut just as the thing jumped at him. He was shoved backwards. These former ponies were possessed of incredible physical strength. Having only an instant to react he rammed the door back into its head several times until it crumpled, the body now jammed in the doorway. S.A.T.S. was taking forever to reset, at least it felt like it was in this situation. The last two were rapidly approaching. Now there was something more substantial between the unicorn and his oncoming attackers.

He knew they would jump at him given the least chance. To avoid this he would have to act quickly. He ran out the other door just as the two maniacal things slammed their way into the room. It would be safe enough to use the second launcher here. He had the suit chamber a spell compaction round, they were supposed to have a 2 second delay. He fired the launcher, quickly trying to shut the door. A dull roaring sound engulfed the area behind it, he had not quite been fast enough. Slightly open as it was the blast knocked the heavy door straight off its hinges into him sending the unicorn reeling. The concussive force was such that he blacked out.

Magnificent lay there groaning. Slowly his eyes fluttered open. His armor was intact but charred in places. A new indicator marked: Minor Concussion was displayed. Several minutes passed while he was out. All hostile indicators had subsided. Getting to his hooves was a terrific effort. Finally getting back up he glanced towards the control room. Several strange small purple fires were dancing scattered amongst the wreckage of terminals and equipment. In the room one of the creatures actually incinerated into a pile of ashes, the other lay smoldering beside it. The blast was much larger than he expected. Making his way past the mess, he slowly limped down the corridor to the elevator.

This was a separate shaft from the rest of the building entirely, it must have been built in case the main entrances were unavailable. Now it was likely his only possibility of escape. The elevator appeared to have a spark battery attached to the side panel, meaning it was independent of the failing reactor. He was wary of this, what awaited on the surface? Hopefully no more of those monstrosities.

"I really need a soothing cup of chamomile tea. My exquisitely cared for mane is probably a mess too." He spoke despondently as he hit the button, the elevator doors shuddered closed.

It was clear the elevator was not used in a very long time from the sound of far off machinery, as grinding seized metal grated while it rose. So much so he was beginning to fear it would fall, making his entire misadventure pointless. Fortunately it simply continued to rise. Eventually it rose to surface level. The surface doors slid open with a great hiss, sparks shooting from the tracks. Magnificent stepped out to survey his surroundings.

"Ohh, no...."

What awaits our hero on the surface? Will he ever get a cup of chamomile tea? Is he a hero at all? More questions await as we now turn our eyes to, a series of insignificant events.

The Wind

The ancient robotic looking pony shaped constructs stood in their cubicles inactive and uncalled for. A great many years having passed since their construction. Each had been placed in its station within the great and vast underground complex awaiting orders that had for whatever reason never come in endless decades, left to dust and darkness. Nothing ever happened here save for a single green light atop a nearby terminal that seemed to pointlessly flicker off and on for an incalculable eternity. The closest heavily armored auton stood at attention as it always had, eyes cold and dark as the pitch around it, lifeless. Were one to venture into this forgotten depth it would be revealed to be utterly massive.

Practically an entire world unto itself hidden beneath, wreathed in steel and stone. All this once had a purpose. A Sheer twenty stories beneath the mountains surface it waited in the cold silence, unlamented and long out of any living memory. The builders had gone far beyond the original intention at their leaders request. There it stood towering above all else. Something great and tall and shiny, once gleaming in quiet testament to its builders craftsmanship. The great glistening hull and bulk of its entirety covered in all manner of golden runes amidst crisscrossing patterns of intricate detail so fine even at such scale none could ever hope to take it all in. It stood there on its huge pedestal, silent as the empty night.

It awaited a call now likely to never come. The enormous mechanisms anchoring it lay dormant as all else in this vast and quiet metal tomb. The years piled one on into another as the seeming statues stared silently into the abyssal darkness around them, never a single sound to be heard or motion to be detected nor hinted at. One might imagine nothing living had ever trod here, utterly dead as it was with only the mere ghosts of that which was long past to keep it company. In silence stood these sentinels eternal. It could be envisioned they too had never moved from their posts, rigid and lifeless husks forever poised to react at a moments notice to some unseen menace.

Empty halls echoed only the eternity of silence and dust inflicted upon the great subterranean depths where no light had shone in countless ages. Quietly awaiting the day when someone, anyone, would dare entreat the long darkened halls to give up their long-held secrets. All the stables were intended to last but not for the purposes originally set out. The grim dark eternity that had settled on this place far from sight and mind brought on by the end of the war had left it neglected, barren of life and forgotten. Like so many other things it lay empty and ill against the destruction of the outside world. A mere backdrop of misfortune and pain. Just another drop in an ocean of sadness.

All the good intentions in the world had lead to strife, upheaval and a nearly inevitable outcome. The world itself had ended long ago with what few survivors left clinging to life by ragged tatters. That anything at all had survived was testament to the will to live, to flourish and push back against the all-enveloping darkness. Nothing living walked these dreary halls. The austere living quarters and kitchen sat empty. Nary a pony seemed to have ever so much as touched a single thing in this quandary of a place. Far above, in the shattered world beyond the main door, a gentle breeze stirred many hundreds of miles away. It picked up to a slow pace as it stirred, springing to life in whatever way such things begin.

It rolled across the endless wastes as aimless as wind may be. None envision or imagine where something so small begins its journey, the landscapes and monuments and things long buried it may pass on its way. Slowly the wind set out across the wastes of what had once been a bright and happy world, a world that slowly spiraled ever more out of control towards its doom. Somewhere there was a small desolate farm. A little filly just coming of age looked on in horror as her parents fell defending her against a mob of raiders. The wind passed by this scene of terror and pain uncaring. The wind does not care, it can bring sadness and cold, or warmth and happy feelings.

On it went, spanning the empty miles of devastation on no particular path. Many more miles onwards in its sluggish travels the wind blew by a sobbing unicorn sitting in charred power armor. The wind just is. It has no feelings, no attitude whether it brings hurt or not. It simply goes on. The great main doors of this particular stable were covered by rubble and debris, designed to look as part of the mountain itself. None would simply guess there to be any entrances to it at all. Should any living thing ever happen to look upon it only rocks would be seen. The wind continued its long randomly winding journey across the suffering landscape, the hills and mountains, dales and valleys of a once beautiful country.

Something kept it going, but what, who could say? At one time the pegasus race had heralded all patterns of weather. The rain, the snow and wind had been their domain alone. No more. The slow bitter wind rolled across the mountains surface, softly crossing in the same random way it had begun. As it passed the gentle breeze dislodged the smallest of pebbles from its perch above the slope, it rolled down the mountainside gaining momentum to land squarely against a small hidden door. It hissed open ominously. The wind has no feelings, it does not care what it heralds in its random journeys, of the joy, pain or suffering it brings.

The soft breeze blew into the now open door and ended as subtly as it began.

A chill wind bearing ill, mayhaps.

The Legend of Queen Whiskey

The wizened ancient zebra looked out towards the horizon of the once devastated landscape. Over a hundred years before it had all been one terrible blasted place. In many areas it still was, not without dangers and secrets even now. Not one but three major conflicts had all destroyed the world, and partially restored it again. She churned her bubbling cauldron with a makeshift pole then called the others together. It was time for the weekly story by the fire, for which both young and old huddled around eagerly. This night she decided it was finally time to relate a very special tale, one she had not told in a very long time. As the little band settled she began to speak:

Come little children. I'll tell you a tale about woe, of wild ole Queen Whiskey and the seeds she did sow.

A torrid tale of suffering, of pain. A tale of learning, of grief and of gain.

She left her home to slake a desire, to justly shield those held dear amidst strife and fire.

Right out the door to return nevermore, rushing towards a far distant moor.

One takes care of their home no matter the cost, no care for how dire the loss.

Within a clean stable she lived in seclusion, beneath the world not safe from confusion.

From afar came a thundering knock, to force apart already broken lock.

In through the door came death and derision, it took not long to make her decision.

A machine barely understood upon a leg sending her across to beg, for knowledge she had little.

Into her mind the question did while and whittle, burning a hole she could only ponder and riddle.

Fighting their way out, an unknown dread to stop them in the middle.

Little could she fathom the idea of jumping from one hot plate out onto a griddle.

Her journey started with blood on her hooves, now onto planning out her next moves.

The first place she tread was saved then from dread, and thus it did greatly swell up her head.

On then toward a song full of power, nary a place to find a good shower.

The swelling was popped when a pony head dropped, for from the owner it was quite cleanly lopped.

The old zebra took a deep breath and looked to her cauldron. It bubbled and sloshed with a pop. The soup would not be ready for quite some time yet but still needed tending to. She took a moment to pour in some arcane ingredient which gave it a slight green tinge. The soup had to be the perfect temperature for cooking or it would not come out right at all. For her age she was still quite spry, as zebras are wont to be thanks to a lifetime regimen of agility exercises. Though the others would scold her for doing it, she was still capable of balancing on her head atop a hoop. Using a wooden ladle that had clearly seen better days, she took a sip of the softly glowing concoction. She then turned her attention back upon the waiting crowd, it had grown larger:

A friend in dire need of care, how far might she now dare?

A time into the abyss now to stare and ponder the quirks of fate and despair.

Time waits for no pony, hurting or not. Her story unfolds in a quite special spot.

To find a way through and again save the day, when all that is wanted a bed soft as hay.

Over the land an ocean of fright in which she then finds her delight.

One evil down she could smite, to unleash only yet worsening plight.

A sight quite enough, she had enough stuff. Now to wind inwards in bluff.

One out of three, a threatening plea, then onwards for an illusory sea.

Listen now children quite well. There is much much more of this tale to tell.

Tarnished, her journey just started and almost departed.

To pick from a list of terrible louts. Enough to make one wish to shout.

Decisions done and payments to be made, into the austere halls of a hospital strayed.

Tasked to go throw them out, some ghosts of the past are real no doubt.

Laughter did echo through dim blistered hall, cries of young foals and fillies calling to all.

Come now ye hither, we just want to play. Forever and ever you are to stay.

Through quite painful choice she silenced the voice of past sins left in her sway.

The zebras in the clan listened intently with hushed breath, hanging on the elders every word. This story had never been passed on to any of them before. They had heard every tale she ever told before numerous times. All of them were good, but none were like this. This was something new. As she spoke more and more of the clan gathered to hear this epic regaling of the past. Why had she never told it before, and how did she know it? Curiosity drew nearly the entire clan together while she related a saga in rhyme. She stood behind her cauldron, paying it special care as she poured carefully chosen grated herbs into it. The soup seemed to be gaining more potency. The smell of it drifted through the conclave almost tauntingly as it simmered. The aroma was most enticing. Her carefully crafted tale continued:

Already carrying a great pain in her heart. Forced from her home and not very smart.

Ole Queen Whiskey one day she would be, for the moment only wishing to flee.

Slow to learn and needing to see, how to fill a life with glee.

Coming to face a painful past whilst burdens mount to torture so fast.

Once so uncouth as deluded in youth. In pain she did now pine for sooth.

Like a chipped tooth needs some care. She played out her passions with far too much flair.

Somewhere in there a lesson to learn. Her hearts yearning desire to set things afire.

Blazing forth to another campaign. One and another strain upon her poor aching brain.

She pondered her life so full of strife which left her feeling it vain.

Into her mind was planted the idea that much later would lose all she gained.

In her heart a poisoned feeling did grow to gnaw at all she might know.

On the road once again which slowly did spend much of her will to comprehend.

A pain in the tail and under the pale her journey begun to feel quite stale.

So much pain felt under the endless rain near a city of steel, mayhaps to take a ride on the rail.

The sun not free by any a pony eye yet to see, the will to do so in lee.

The wastes so deadly and terror filled veil, now you must wait for more of the tale.

A murmur went through the gathered crowd at the sudden end. The old zebra leaned over her cauldron, having decided it was finally ready to be served.

"Like fine wine a story this sublime must be savored and taken in sips over time." She would say no more. They would have to come back for the next story session. Not a one would miss it. The dispersing crowd chattered amongst themselves with a slight air of disappointment but also excitedly at the prospect of hearing more. The old zebra smiled to herself. She walked back into her ramshackle little hut and gazed at a photo faded with age.

The past ever weaving into the future we can but guess what lines it shall draw.

Zemblanity

The farm was a large desolate place, remote and sprawling. At one time it was a self-sustaining wonder solely dedicated to feeding a small town that once existed off to the southwest. All this, it was. It now again fulfilled this role on a much less grand scale, owing to the fact that very little could actually be made to grow on the tortured infertile land. At one time it had stood lush to overflowing with potential. Now it could barely sustain its own more recent inhabitants. The farmhouse proper stood two stories and a fair length. It had seen far better days long ago, back when the world was bright and full of promise. Now, the fields lay ill and difficult to farm.

A blossoming, yellow-coated young earth pony filly just nearing adulthood looked up from her storybook at the poor place. She and her father had shortly before finished the immense task of readying a new field to be planted next season, something all three of them had been at for several weeks in addition to their normal work. The small sparse fields now numbered three, the other two fields having just been harvested left it quite bereft. Harvesting was a serious problem in and of itself, requiring a whole lot of hard work and effort. They had only makeshift tools and equipment scrounged from wherever her parents had found them, really having no idea where they came from.

She was a very strong pony for her age, stemming from long hours helping her parents mend and work the ancient rundown farm. Long tedious days drifted by one after another blending into a dreary endless boredom. Before supper was the time of day she took to relax and look over her one prized possession once again: a keepsake of days gone by when the world was not so bleak. At least, that is how the book made it look. Could the world truly ever have been so filled with light? Its worn cover and pages were once brightly colored. That any color at all remained visible showed some things at least did endure. She flipped through the pages, the faded stories within firing her imagination.

The book contained her favorite story. A story about six friends who together through countless adventures came to rely upon each other, to know their strengths and weaknesses while facing many obstacles along the way. Friends which together went through pain and terror, joy and hope. The young filly had no friends herself thanks to the only town she knew of being nearly a full weeks travel to the south. Not that it mattered anyway, the town itself seemed sparsely populated only by fairly old ponies. Having no one to be friends with and no ponies around her own age fed her loneliness by the day. Her parents were good and kind, but could not replace that which a young heart needs.

Hardly knowing what friendship meant, the book was her only real window into its meaning. She knew nothing of friendship aside from the depictions in her beloved book, what did having a friend mean? How exactly would you make friends with somepony anyway? Her mother and father did not seem to have any friends either. Was it just their lot to have wound up in these long doldrums of existence? Her life was so boring. Nothing truly exciting ever happened, not here. Nothing exciting would ever happen here. There did not seem the slightest possibility of anything out of the ordinary occurring in this place. It was as dull and bland as she could imagine.

She shuddered at the mere thought of there being a place even less interesting. Her parents said this was a pretty safe area compared to much of the world. Perhaps they were right but she could not help feeling this seemed an arbitrary thing to say, you could still die or be hurt here with a misstep or bad decision. Even without any wildlife to speak of there was danger. The stifling heated winds that occasionally blew in were sometimes nearly unbearable. They eked out the semblance of a living here so far from any settlement. Rarely, they ventured to a town with crops in tow. Far in the back, within the shadow of the crystalline mountain ridge under which the farm stood was a partially buried hunk of metal and wire.

She looked off to it wistfully. On the side letters that were hardly legible appeared to read as VER. The rest was burnt beyond recognition. Whatever it was had long been left to endure the ravages of time and the outdoors. She had been warned not to play around with strange machines or devices found in the wastes. Her parents were clear about this point. The moment she was old enough to understand, it had been engrained in her that the past held many dangerous and unique secrets of its own. Secrets that could easily prove harmful or fatal if not approached with an abundance of caution. Such stories piqued her young minds curiosity, but they would never tell her how they knew these things.

She had never really felt endangered in her entire life so far, was the world really so bad and filled with it? Her parents seemed to feel this was the case. It was time for dinner. Before heading inside she tromped over to the ancient barn, her father had mistakenly left the door open again. A large tattered sign covered in years worth of dirt and neglect read 'Sadview Farms'. The name was fitting as the view of the mountains did indeed seem more sad than majestic. Had it always been this way? Farms seemed to indicate there had been others but this appeared to be the only other building for who knew how many miles. The dilapidated barn seemed to predate the war, leaving only portions updated to the common industrial grates and steel of the time. They dared not tread on the upper floor.

The stairs up the side were rickety and swayed seemingly continually, actually stepping onto them would likely invite them and possibly more to come crashing down atop anyone unlucky enough to be in the way. There was simply no material to repair or replace them with. A few wooden stands and bric-à-brac lay strewn about. Some broken curios were a grim reminder that the world had once known better times. She stepped inside to check that her father had not forgotten anything else. The one thing about this barn which puzzled her was a flat heavy steel door in the center of the floor with a number pad.

She had asked if her parents knew anything about it but as usual had shown little interest in it, saying that it was just another remnant of a time when ponies were powerful masters of the world around them. She was also told they left behind many dark secrets which should be paid great respect. A few times she had played with the pad, imagining somehow coming across the correct combination. What dark secret could a barn possibly hold? Surely it was just some ponies attempt at a bomb shelter or maybe it was a wine cellar or something. If there was something like that hidden in there it would be worth finding wouldn't it? She imagined so many things could be hiding within.

Everything looked fine. Shutting the door securely behind, she headed for the house. She marched into the dingy and dimly lit farmhouse, candles flickering here and there. A building of moderate size, it had once been unusually posh inside. Its grand wooden timbers badly warped with age. Long ago the beams had sagged under the oppressive years in such a harsh environment, how it even remained together a mystery. Perhaps the wood had been magically treated or some other unknown means used upon them ages before. On this floor a few broken terminals dotted the six largely empty rooms, two bedrooms sitting off the side in a sort of hidden alcove.

All the strange machines had long been rendered useless save for one in a dismal dank corner, its eerie green flicker a constant reminder of a past long since lost. The lonely terminal forever beckoned for a password that would likely never be entered. None of the three could figure what it had been and any clue to its nature likely crumbled to dust almost two centuries ago, possibly along with the buildings former occupants. Every third failed attempt locked it for 24 hours before allowing further guesses. Sometimes the young filly tried for amusement. Regardless they had little time to dwell on such things, as simple daily living required most of their energy and attention.

She did find it curious the terminal continually displayed the words 'Connection severed'. Connection to what? There was nothing around here at all to connect to. The devastation wrought upon the land so long ago had ruined almost everything. Imagining the purpose of the terminal stumped her. This was a farm, so why did it even have such things in it? Her musings on the reasons for the terminals existence were cut short as she approached the kitchen. The film of fine dust which covered basically everything had been over time cleared away as best they could manage. Cleaning supplies were non-existent and if they were found would be far more valuable to sell than use.

This had meant only tedious effort had slowly afforded an honest-to-goodness clean area in the house. In contrast to the rest of the the farm and indeed the world, it actually felt cozy. Sometimes she would let herself imagine when the house had been bright and new. Glorious. Sitting on the mantle above what was left of a once ornately decorated fireplace was a book they all held in high reverence. Although it was damaged and missing many sections it was the reason they could manage a farm at all. A large tome titled 'Farmers Almanac' lay there. Its tattered fraying pages contained a wealth of information on farming techniques, procedures and minutiae.

Unfortunately many of the more important pages were unreadable. They managed to glean just enough from its ancient pages to run the most basic of operations. It held the promise of so much more, if only intact copies of it could be found. This was an impossible dream, of course; ponies had long lost the bulk of knowledge attained over ages. These days they were more apt to fight each other over the scraps of what was left than go looking for old books. After all, what good would a book do you when you were starving, thirsty or hurt? This family knew better, and taught her how to read the few scraps and books that were available.

Her hooves clattered on the creaky flooring as she approached her parents sitting at an oval kitchen table, a paltry meal laid out before them much the same as every other night. Usually they had barely enough to sustain themselves and some left to barter with in the far away town. The new field was a sign of hope. She gazed at her protectors, her whole world. The ones who had told her bedtime stories, the ones who played with her when they needed to be working, laughing together at what little could be and teaching her what modicum they were able with so very little to offer. Even so, looking at them she felt something was missing from her life. In her heart was some indescribable sadness.

She looked to her father with that slightly sad and quizzical expression only those merely approaching adulthood could manage, pausing a moment to listen to their conversation before saying anything.

"Now Silver Quick, I know we need to sell more in town but we'd be leaving her all alone here for almost two weeks!" such a pretty painted and mottled petite looking unicorn was saying to her father. Her mother's mane was a disheveled blonde mess. He sat opposite her, a large heavy looking figure in the dim light, almost hulking. He made for a grandiose nearly monstrous sight of a powder-blue pegasus -- or would if his wings were not strapped tightly to his sides under a heavy, leathery looking cloak which covered his mark.

So well-hidden were the straps that not knowing they were there would mean missing them entirely. Small brown and silvery streaked wisps of his mane protruded slightly from beneath the cloaks hood, something he never seemed to be without. Due to their secretiveness she had never seen either of their marks.

"My dear Night Bloom, she is old enough to take care of the place for a few days aren't you sweetheart?" His adoring gaze shifted to his beloved daughter. He always seemed to beam with pride every time he looked at her. She nearly felt embarrassed by it, but the gleam in his eyes also somehow felt invigorating to her. He was usually so grim and serious.

Moments such as these were wonderful. They were giving her a huge responsibility, she quickly forgot whatever was on her mind for the moment.

"I, yes dad." She gasped excitedly and gave them both a nuzzle on the cheek.

"Both of you are going?" the young filly asked of her parents.

"Of course, usually only one of us would go but your mother cannot pull two full carts that far by herself. It is a long trip and our harvest is exceptionally good this time considering. Goodness knows we could use the extra caps for trade." Her father explained.

The young pony had always wondered why her parents had chosen to live in such a desolate place far from other ponies or why her father never just flew things to the town. It would be so much faster. Asking these questions always resulted in the same response of quietly insisting she not ever speak about her daddy being a pegasus or ask about either of their cutie marks, telling her it would all be explained one day. She had no idea what her parents marks even were, they were very cautious about not letting them be seen. How long would she have to wait to know what they were keeping from her? It bothered her. She had only been to the town of Far Side a few times. It was just as harsh and bereft as the farm, dirty and old. The residents all seemed fairly elderly with no foals to speak of, at least she'd never met any.

It made for a long and lonely existence without a single pony even remotely her age to play with. Her parents tried hard to help her have fun when they could. Unfortunately they had to dedicate so much time and effort to working the farm there was little time left over for her. She did like some of the old ponies in the town, they could be funny, a few she even knew by name. The small town itself nestled in a sort of ring against the bottom of another tall mountain range she never asked about. It looked scary and felt dangerous to her somehow. She felt an odd sensation just looking at it, as if just seeing it was wrong somehow and generally kept her gaze away from it.

It simply had a bad vibe, despite this oddity she liked it there. If only the small settlement was not so far away. The towns-ponies we not particularly outgoing or unfriendly but were not truly good candidates to make friends with either, mostly they just seemed to want to be left alone. They did however very much like the food crops the small family brought into town to trade with. If she felt a connection with anypony other than her parents it was with the proprietor of the apothecary named Grizzled Lily. Out of the few times she had accompanied her father on the long trip she had found herself wandering into the shop to hear the old mares tales of far off places she had visited in her younger years as a guard for a traveling trade caravan.

It sounded so exciting, almost glamorous compared to the drab dull living they carved out with the farm. The old mare was not without injury from her youth. A great scar across most of the left side of her face and crossing her eye confirmed that life outside the confines of what she knew was indeed dangerous. Before she was ever allowed to visit the town she had been told there were some things she must promise never to speak of or about in earshot of the local ponies, like the one machine hidden deep in the farmhouse that still worked. A slow pre-war water producing marvel, it did not make much or quickly, it was still an invaluable prize.

She knew her parents loved her very much, but why the secrecy over so many things? She did not understand, but she kept her promise not to talk of it. It had over the years worked into her mind that her parents must be keeping some horrible thing from her. She was by now desperate to know but knew how they would react if she asked, she could see it as it played out before. You're too young, you don't need to know those things yet. Bleh. They would have to tell her soon wouldn't they? She had imagined all sorts of scenarios about their reasons. None of them seemed like anything her parents would actually have done.

"Wait Dad, I thought you promised I'd get to go with you next time you went to town." She muttered. Her fathers deep gruff voice was always surprising even now.

"My dear daughter, I will make no excuses. I did promise you that, but I am going to have to alter it a bit. I keep my promises, but I am going to have to ask you to be patient. In comparison to what we usually get out of this blasted farm we can get a lot of caps." He paused a moment, looking at her deep in thought. "In the long run it will make things a bit easier on us, and I will have a surprise for you when we get back. Alright, sweetheart?" He seemed to be smiling ever more widely at her.

"A surprise?" She had never heard him say anything like that in her entire life.

"Really?" Excitedly she gave him an enthusiastic hug.

"So, can you do this for me? Take care of this place for two weeks?" Her reply was just as vigorous.

"Yes!" What could it be? Now this was exciting. The next morning the three gathered outside the barn and loaded the carts. The two carts were rickety things which strained under the unusually heavy load being placed on them, but which were just sturdy enough to make the lengthy trip to town and back.

"You know what to do?" Her mother asked yet again.

"Yes mother, I'll be fine." She told her in a reproaching tone.

"I'm sorry dear one, it is just we have never left you alone like this before.." Her mother seemed so frail, yet she knew this was not the case. Both her parents were physically strong from the efforts put into their farm, the work itself had kept them going. It had been no trivial task making anything grow with their limited knowledge, lack of tools or proper farm implements.

Without anypony to tell them how and lacking experience her parents had said it took a couple of years to make the first field workable. It was with great excitement they had greeted that first sprouting plant. Finally, all the years of hard work were truly about to pay off. She gave both of her parents a hug then watched them walk off into the distance, waving as they stepped out of sight. Walking back inside for her meager breakfast it slowly dawned on her just how alone she was here, and how empty a place felt without other ponies. Without other living things the old creaky farmhouse seemed to take on a haunted ethereal quality.

The town was nearly 60 miles off to the south which meant there was no way to get help if something should go awry in her parents absence. Finishing her food and setting to the days work her father had left for her she noticed the work felt harder alone. Having never truly been absolutely alone the thought of something bad happening quickly began to trouble her thoughts.

"Calm down, nothing bad will happen. This is the most boring place anywhere." She said to herself. The work truly was boring, really only amounting to the very basic things needed.

That night she was more fatigued than ever, taking care of things alone was hard. Walking into her threadbare bedroom she practically fell onto the rickety old bed. Her parents had somehow scrounged up enough pieces of softer material here and there to almost mimic the old style beds in books. It was still far less comfortable then they looked, but it served. She relaxed, glancing about her room. A few cobbled together things that her father had put together to serve as toys lay strewn about. In her younger years she had played with them a lot. Even now she would sometimes amuse herself with them, she was not an adult quite yet. The thought struck her that she did not know what being an adult meant either.

Did growing up mean she would stop having fun? She liked having fun, but it was hard having fun by herself. She still liked having fun, scooping her toys up she played with them a while.

"No, I will never stop having fun." Slowly her fatigue won out and she slept. When she awoke she found herself very thirsty. The ancient water producing device in the basement made all the difference here. It had obviously served to provide water to the fields at one time. By some process unknown to them the bulky machine produced just enough for their small family with enough left over to irrigate the two fields.

The only clue to it was an engraved tag reading 'Ponyworks Hydroconcentrator' It had once been connected to the formerly numerous fields by pipes but most of those had long ceased functioning. The reservoir container seemed to indicate it once created far larger amounts. Not knowing anything of how its mechanisms worked and desperately afraid of breaking anything they simply left it alone. What she found truly odd about it was that it did not seem to require a power source to function. Knowing little of the sciences practiced by the old world they were very cautious. She greatly disliked going in the basement, it was very dark. It was musty, but it was also cool and sometimes the best place to be.

Very rarely, a colder wind would blow down from the glimmering crystal mountains off in the distance to the north. When this happened it would hit the much warmer air and actually cause rain. In all her young life she had only seen it three times, it did not look like the rain in her book, it was a dirty wet affair when it happened. It was sickly, even dangerous. She'd been told that once the pegasus weather ponies used to gather great masses of fluffy beautiful clouds together whenever rain was needed. She wished she could see clear rain fall from such beautiful white clouds. Instead they had this, why had the world become so dreary? She knew of the war and its terrible end, her father had told the stories about it.

Didn't the ponies know what a beautiful world they had? How could they let it be destroyed like this? These questions made her feel a bit angry, but there was nopony to be angry at. Anypony involved in the end of that fabled happy time had surely fallen to dust by now. One week later she was beginning to regret accepting this responsibility. Most of the tasks she had been left were completed by now, leaving her little to actually do. Finding herself wandering about the empty place more than usual she began to feel nervous again. She knew what feeling lonely was but had never actually been entirely alone for such a long period of time before.

She thought about going after her parents, but they would likely be in town by now. Realizing she was also afraid of trying to reach the town by herself was disheartening. The big farmhouse upper floor had numerous rooms they never really used, for amusement and sanity's sake she decided to explore them thoroughly. She had of course been in them all before but never truly pried into every nook and cranny, this room was a bust. It had nothing more than a busted out window to the outside and lots of dust. Closing the door on its rusty hinges she moved on to the next. This had been some sort of sewing room at one time. An old, nonfunctional Tapony sewing machine sat in the corner covered in dust.

Even a skilled pony could not have fixed the useless wreck. How the pieces of the mechanism went together or worked was beyond anything her family knew, at least she thought it was. Her father did seem fairly knowledgeable about technology, if very cautious. This room had nothing further to offer. As interesting as the old machinery might be, it was useless. Dejectedly she trotted back into the hall and into the next room down. In here was an old filing cabinet, she rifled through the drawers looking for anything that might prove distracting, but anything of interest had disintegrated before she was even born.

Still, she did find it curious the old farmhouse her family called home had once housed so many disparate machines. For a farm it had a strangely high number of old dysfunctional terminals and other now essentially useless equipment. Again she had found nothing interesting, time for the third room. This door stuck a lot as she shoved it open, scraping against the floor noisily. So far there was nothing to show for her efforts, hoping to fare better this time she scrutinized the room from top to bottom. It seemed as bereft as the other rooms. There was really nothing of interest here either. With a growing sense of dissatisfaction she took one last look around the empty room and stepped back into the hall while yanking the sticking door closed.

This was so disappointing, surely there was something somewhere in this place that could amuse a young mind? It was rapidly becoming apparent there may be nothing at all. There were only three more rooms to explore. Hoping against hope she headed for the fourth. The door here was unusable, hanging off its hinges as it was. Her prospects of finding something amusing were a little better here, a few odds and ends lay about. She didn't hope that much though. This had obviously been a playroom at some point in the distant past, dull patterns that hinted at color adorned the walls. A carriage had been dragged into the room, probably just to store it.

The owners as all others likely had no idea what was coming when they put it in here for the last time. Imagining a happy couple raising a foal while expecting to enjoy the happiness that might bring and having those dreams cut short was a poor thought she pushed from her mind. Despite their quirkiness she loved mom and dad, and could not imagine how she would feel if they were gone or how it would feel for them to lose her. The only items in this room were less amusing and more creepy, something that looked like it was once a toy now appeared more like a deformed mass of tattered cloth than anything else. Not something she wanted to touch.

Looking through the once colorful playroom had a desperate feeling to it. Nothing more in here. Only two rooms left, would she ever find anything around here to alleviate her boredom? She could read her cherished book again but even that would become boring after repeated readings. The floor in here was a total mess and curved down slightly, meaning it was above the worst of the sagged beams below. The building had withstood the test of time and the elements rather admirably before her family claimed it as their home. She wandered into a large L-shaped room that could have been an office. She had heard the word before, but what was an office?

Her father said an office was a place where ponies did paperwork. She also did not know what that meant, in addition it wasn't clear he knew what it actually entailed either. Ponies worked with paper? Was the paper they worked with enchanted or alive? It was terribly dusty to a degree that soon drove her out of the room coughing. Well, that room would probably never be clean again. Only one more to search. Bored. Bored. Bored.

"Please let there be something interesting in here." At first glance it did not seem very promising either. An old rickety chair that somehow still held together sat in the center of the room.

Dirty shelves lined the walls dotted here and there with glass jars and tin cans the contents of which nopony would likely want to know. A pile of ancient magazines might have been of value, but time had let them meld together so badly the pages could not be separated without tearing them apart. Useless. The bored filly looked across the dusty shelves looking for anything of any interest at all. How was she supposed to amuse herself? Did her parents ever feel bored like this? This was going nowhere. Taking one last look around she went to turn and leave. Wait, a tiny dot of color.

"Huh, what is that?" In the far corner she leaned down to take a closer look at something jammed in between a shelf and wall that was barely visible. No wonder it had been missed.

"It's stuck," she mumbled while trying to gently tug out the strange rolled up papers with her hooves. It was so jammed she was afraid it would rip. More leverage could be placed on it with her mouth, but there was so much dust she did not want to try. Ever so slowly it started to move forward as she prized it from its hiding place.

"Come out, dumb paper!" She toppled over backwards as it suddenly slid out to land in a heap.

"Unh. Well, that's just great." Rising to her hooves and dusting herself off her eyes caught sight of where the mystery papers had landed. Carefully she started to wipe off the cover. Her jaw dropped. It was so colorful it was mesmerizing.

So. Much. Color. She finished clearing it off to reveal a marvelous picture of a handsome unicorn standing in front of a shattered fiery mirror. Above him a title read 'Adventures of Magnificent Vol. 4. This weeks stunning adventure, "Hark, A Mirror". She blinked incredulously. This had been here the whole time? Hurrying downstairs she placed it on the table to look over more closely. Underneath all of the dirt it had somehow retained its colors. The bright hues were a complete marvel to her eyes. This was a treasure. Something of the old world utterly untouched. It looked like new. How had it remained so clear and clean? She gazed at the title page in wide-eyed wonder.

Practically panting with excitement she leafed through the pages. Having never seen an illustrated comic before or how truly bright the colors could be she hardly believed her eyes. The imagery contained within was amazing. She read through it over and over. The images on the pages had such clarity they almost seemed to move. Eventually looking up with a start she realized it had been several hours since finding the comic pages. Had she ever felt this excited? The novelty finally wearing off she closed the newfound comic and gently placed it in on the mantle beside the almanac. Wandering into her bedroom wearily she slipped into bed. Falling asleep rapidly, grand colorful dreams came to her.

Halfway through the night she woke up in a haze.

"Huh, what was that sound?" Looking around she imagined there was a low scratching sound coming from under the floor in the basement, but dismissed it as simple grogginess. There couldn't be sound coming from under there anyway. That wouldn't make any sense. Slowly she drifted back into sleep. She had no way of knowing that by some miracle of coincidental timing, around 200 miles away the very inspiration behind the comic she had found was engaged in a frantic fight for his life. Her dreams were untroubled the rest of the night.

When she awoke it was with a slightly happier outlook on things. Something as simple as finding a little color in the world was enough to re-energize and invigorate. It was still boring, but at least she had a new thing to look at.

"Well, if I can find something like that around here perhaps there might be other stuff." She did not really expect this to be so, but finding something so special had given her a bit of hope it was possible.

"I know there is nothing else on this floor but I've never looked around t-the basement much." She picked up one of the few candles that were left. Mom would be picking up more on her trip to town for sure.

Walking down the creaky walkway she pulled open the heavy door to the basement. It squealed on its hinges terribly. She hated going down here even for water from the old machines tap and was usually quick about it. Steeling her nerves she set off down the stairs. It was cold down here, the air was nearly frigid in comparison. She had asked why it was so cold down here but her parents did not seem to know the answer. Maybe it was something to do with the water device was all they could say. The basement layout was somewhat different than the rest of the house. Pipes from the machine seemed to run all over the place above, but where did they actually go?

There seemed to be no end to them as if they simply ran into the ground off to the sides except for two that ran upwards from the huge device. Those two could be some kind of intakes. Since her parents were so overly cautious they made sure to hide the odd outside holes behind some ancient useless wood. Best to keep them out of sight they said. To her, this lifelong secrecy was becoming overwhelming. Giving her head a shake, she began to rummage around the main room. Only a portion of the floor down here was covered in what appeared to be rusted steel grates upon which the water machine sat. The rest was simply dirt. It was as if the builders had done that much then lost interest after it was placed.

She did not want to miss anything more that may have been overlooked while also wanting to hurry. She looked around the machine itself first. It did appear to have some kind of controls off to the side. A square box with dials and buttons sat there taunting with the promise of changing what the machine did. It was filthy and none of the levers or switches could be moved. It looked damaged, like it had been burned from the inside.

"I suppose it's amazing that thing, whatever it is, still works at all." Glancing around nothing particular caught her attention in the dimness.

The basement was subdivided into several smaller sections all of which appeared to have been simple storage areas. Storage for what was another matter entirely, no clue remained of what was once contained within them.

"What was that?" She tilted her head off to one side.

"Now cut that out, there is nothing down here but me and the dust. I must be imagining things." She moved on to the room at the end of the hall first. It was so musty and dark down here she nor her parents had ever thoroughly explored it. A quick check of this tiny room immediately revealed it held nothing at all. Turning she headed over to the one opposite.

It was only a slight bit larger and held only an empty shelf hanging off the wall at an angle. It had long ago detached at the other end. If anything had been atop it must have dumped onto the ground and rotted away. Nothing here either.

"Wait a minute, there's that sound again." Trotting back into the hall she looked around quizzically. Nothing.

"Alright, I must be letting my imagination get away on me." She shook her head and looked into a third room. This seemed more promising. There was an old barrel in the corner and what looked like a small rusty desk against the other wall. It had only a single drawer.

"Oh darn, it has a lock." She pulled at the drawer, but it would not budge.

"I don't suppose the key would still be here anywhere.." She did not expect to be that lucky. This room had an actual floor. The aesthetics of any pre-war building still standing all seemed to revolve around a very industrial look. The layout of many seemed to have been poorly thought out and simply constructed more to withstand damage than any other consideration. Few architectural examples remained to compare with though. Anything that was not able to endure was utterly destroyed in the vast sweeping destruction inflicted upon the land.

Her father said some portions of grand large cities withstood the blasts by either the circumstance of position or simple numbers, but how did he know that? Enough buildings had simply been in front of others to stave off some of the brunt. Her book had a few depictions of old-style buildings before the war, they looked cozy. A far cry from the near total industrialization of buildings that had been necessitated by the endless conflict. While thinking these things she spotted the upper half of the handle of a shovel. Useless. The candle holder in which she carried the candle was slowly filling with the melted wax. This candle was one that had been recycled and melted back together out of other used wax and salvaged wick pieces, this had the end effect of a faster burning candle. It was nearly halfway down already.

With the light growing dimmer she decided to leave the basement, she would hate to wind up down here with no light at all. As she turned to head back out the hallway to the stairs she halted.

"There it is again.." Beginning to get the feeling of being watched her heart started to pound. Something was very wrong here. A feeling of dread began to take hold as she carefully stepped forward down the hall towards the stairs. Each step stirred up the untouched dust of decades and her hoofsteps seemed extra loud.

"What..." She headed for the main room with the stairs and slid to a halt as the ground erupted around her.

Her eyes widening in shock she let loose a horrified shriek of terror as a shower of dirt sprayed over her while walking backwards hurriedly. Some horrible abomination was climbing up out of the ground in front. It was at least twice her size and moved with a strange lumping motion. The disgusting thing had a star shape on its face which writhed, twisting and snorting at the air. Somewhere in her mind she noted it had huge clawlike digits. She had to go this way to reach the stairs but it was right in front.

"This can't be!" At this the horrid thing turned its head towards her and swung an enormous claw which just missed slicing her.

She yowled as it swung again just missing by inches as she dodged backwards. Suddenly the monstrous thing dove back under the ground. The dirt heaped upwards as it came at her from beneath. It burst up throwing her sideways against the wall. Steadily she backed down the hallway as it snorted and reached around. It seemed to be blind. Barely having realized it was reacting to sounds she tried to be quiet, fighting tears and against screaming. Slipping into the room with the floor and the shovel end she set the candle she realized she was still holding on the desk and grabbed the end. It wasn't much but better than nothing.

The monstrosity had dove under the ground, again she felt a thud under the flooring which cracked slightly.

"No!" Another thud and the floor cracked again. She panted around the flimsy shovel piece in her mouth. The thing popped up outside the door just enough to show its distorted face, snorting some more, searching. Without thinking she jammed the ancient shovel end straight down into it. A horrendous squealing noise could be heard as it writhed in pain, rolling around like some mad bowling ball ending up shattering the opposing wall. If it kept that up the whole building might come down.

Thinking quickly while it shuffled about she dumped the hot wax on its face which elicited further pained squealing. The shovel end had been knocked flying further back down the hall when the abomination had been struck with it. She bolted to pick up the end again and spun around barely missing a wild swing of its claws once more. She picked up the now even more broken end and rammed it into the things gnashing teeth and mouth, she shoved as hard as she could until a horrendous snapping sound was heard. The huge thing groaned and rolled against the wall with a thud then lay still. Until now the filly had been unable to feel fear or think too much and had reacted instinctively.

Now that she had a moment to take it in, tears flowed down her face. She ran for the stairs, the light above a welcoming sight. She slammed the door behind and ran to her bedroom where she lay in bed shivering. Sobbing she gathered her few possessions to her and shook, crying. She wheezed and panted in a most pitiful manner

"Mommy...Daddy....mom...dad...they'll be back soon...they will....then it'll all be fine...all of it will be fine..mom..dad...soon.." Hardly able to catch a breath she sobbed and buried herself against the bed. The shock of it all settled in and she fainted.

Falling unconscious her thoughts were tormented by images of the behemoth that had attacked her, all gnashing teeth and claws. Rolling about the bed in the grips of a bad dream she twisted and moaned. Her tormented thoughts were brought on by shock. She awoke many hours later in a hushed daze.

"What a horrible nightmare.." All at once she noticed the things blood on her hooves which had spattered there when she shoved the shovel end down its throat.

"AAAH!" Her high-pitched scream echoed throughout the house.

Eventually the tears subsided as she calmed and decided to use what was left of the glass of water she had retrieved earlier to scrub the blood off of her face and hooves. It was slow and difficult to rub off. Surely her parents would return within a day or two and everything would be well again. In the meantime she did not dare return to the basement for any reason. As one day and then two ever so slowly passed by she became more and more thirsty. In unabated fear she remained huddled in her room most of the time trembling. Finally she heard her parents voices calling.

"Sweetheart, we're home!" Her father called.

At the sound she jolted upright and ran into the kitchen nearly tackling her father, crying and babbling near incoherently about monsters and being eaten.

"Whoa, whoa dear me. Hey, hey.." He hugged her tight and she lay against him like a lump.

"Alright, what happened here?" He asked. In a tizzy she rapidly tried to explain what had happened which came out as nothing more than a jumble.

"You poor dear, calm down and explain slowly. What could possibly be so terrible young one, did you have a bad dream?" Mothers sweet tremulous voice was soothing.

The poor rattled young filly told the story more calmly this time through watering eyes as her mother listened in increasing horror.

"It cannot..it can't be." Mom's expression was becoming ever more horrified. When she finished a hushed silence fell over them for a few moments as they took in what they had been told.

"Mom, Dad..I was really scared..I thought.." Father gently pushed them into a group hug for a long moment.

"Alright now, are you hurt?" He questioned.

"No, I'm just..really..thirsty..." She squeaked.

"I haven't had a drink in almost 3 days, I didn't want to go back down there!" She was shaking a little. Her parents looked at her in wide-eyed concern. Her mother was crying and pulled her close, holding almost too tightly.

"I will go check it out. Stay up here." He told them. Night Bloom lit a candle for him. Taking it he vanished down the basement stairs with a flourish of his cloak. A few moments later he returned and nodded slowly at them both.

"Here, drink this darling." He had retrieved some water for her, it tasted so good. As she drank he spoke.

"The creature, whatever it is, is dead..my brave girl killed it. I am so glad, and impressed." He scruffed his daughters mane gently and smiled reassuringly down at her. Some small feeling of embarrassment settled over her at this. His expression then turned more serious.

"There are some things we must do and discuss now, Night Bloom." He motioned at her mother. "It is finally time.' tears streaked down from her eyes as she slowly shook her head. "You know we have to now dearest. There is no choice." Her mother continued to slowly shake her head.

"Look, dear..we have to, she deserves to know everything. She could have died here without ever knowing the truth, and that would be wrong." He looked at them solemnly.

"Come in the kitchen, both of you." She had never seen this stern look on her fathers face before, what was he talking about? She followed her parents into the familiar room and all three sat at the table.

"I am so very sorry something like this happened to you. That thing must have come from somewhere across the mountains I suppose." Her father rambled on for a bit about the thing in the basement, but it seemed to her that it was just leading up to something else.

Finally, after discussing what to do with the corpse he took a deep breath and looked pointedly at her mother.

"Who should go first, my love?" Her mother sobbed and spoke brokenly.

"Why did this ever have to happen!?..I only wanted her to be my little pony..just for a while longer.." What did her mother mean?

"Mom?" Saying this made her sob some more. Night Bloom looked down at the table not meeting her daughters gaze for a few moments, finally with a deep mournful sigh she began to speak.

"I..both of us, that is we..are not your parents." She felt her heart sink as her mother spoke those words.

"What?" She could feel her heart starting to pound and struggled to understand what was being said. How could they not be her parents, they had always been mommy and daddy.

"I can't breathe." She huffed and panted trying to remain calm. Dads gruff voice came in. No, not dad was saying.

"Take it easy, take deep breaths." She did so while quivering with sweat rolling down her brow.

"But, you're mom and dad!" Tears welled in her eyes again.

"How can this be, how?" She demanded of them, how could they hurt her so?

"We are so very sorry about this. We will tell you everything sweetheart." The ponies she had known all her life as her parents looked down ashamed for a short while. Her adoptive father broke the silence.
"I hide who I am for your sake. I originally come from the Pegasus Enclave." She had been told to steer clear of any other pegasus if she ever saw any, but was never told anything other than it was very dangerous to meet or confront them. Mother looked pale and utterly dejected as he spoke.

"Every once in a long while, one of the bigwigs gets the bright idea to go looking for some old piece of technology on the ground. Due to my disobeying an order once or twice I found myself assigned to an E.S.I.R. team to be disciplined." Silver Quick took a deep breath and sighed mournfully.

"I had enough. I watched for my chance so long. I never wanted anypony to get hurt. I only wanted to be free of them. You were much too young to remember, but during my attempt to escape your parents got caught in the crossfire." He looked away for a moment. He rambled and sat there shaking as if in some terrible pain while he explained.

It was obvious now he had been dreading this day coming.

"With his dying breath your father begged me to take care of you, give you a good life. He was a good pony." In all her years she had never seen father cry. Now, as if a dam had broken a great well of sadness and pain burst forth from him. He had always seemed so strong, now he looked like some pitiful and lifeless thing. Sitting there moaning he seemed so weak and frail. She could never have prepared herself for this or what was being revealed to her now.

"Dad.." She went to say but this made him sob uncontrollably.

"I do not have the right to be called that.." He sort of gurgled out. Night Bloom had moved over to give him a tight hug.

"Dear husband, it is my turn to speak. Go collect yourself." She shuffled him off to their bedroom and returned.

"He managed to elude his pursuers with you in tow. Although he had survival training he was then alone, with very little supplies and a young filly he had promised to take care of." She had always liked mothers eyes. They seemed to shine with joy and love for her, but now seeing them felt tainted, spoiled. Would she ever be able to look in them again knowing she was not her mother?

"He hid his wings under a cloak and straps, then roamed from place to place to evade bringing trouble down on you. Eventually we met. Of course I did not know he was a pegasus at first, just that he was handsome, strong and mysterious, and for somepony like me at the time.." She trailed off then continued.

"He has tried so hard to keep his promise, to give you something. A safe life away from pain and suffering. Please understand, these are not even our real names. We did not want to keep any of this from you but not knowing who we really were meant protecting you." She closed her eyes tightly for a few seconds.

"Now it is clear that even here there is no real safety. He had such hope for this place and for you. He only wants to protect you, and now that we almost lost you both he and I are hurting so badly. For him, losing you would have meant failing to do the one thing he ever promised to do." Shuddering she stood.

"I know this is painful, and for some reason I thought this day would never come. I am so sorry. This is a lot to take in, you should rest." Even now she showed the same concern for her well-being that had always been freely given, it just did not feel the same.

"I..yes, rest." The young filly was not quite an adult yet and to have this weight placed on her shoulders was nearly too overwhelming. Slowly she just slipped into her room and hung her head. It was all too much. Her real parents, dead? She felt dizzy and collapsed into bed. A swirl of color came to her in a fitful dream of shadowy figures forever just out of sight. The next morning she crawled out of bed. Sleep really did help, but now what? These two she had loved as her parents were a fraud, worse still the one she called dad her whole life had in reality brought about her parents deaths. Even if it was not entirely his fault and he was truly sorry for it, where did that leave her now?

"Oh why, why did this have to happen now? I almost wish they didn't tell me the truth." She gave her head a shake.

"No, that's not true. I'm just angry, but they had no choice right?" Forlornly she walked into the kitchen.

"Huh?" There was a small ornately decorated wooden box on the table.

"What is this?" She asked father..no not father but that is what he had been her whole life, did that not make him her father?

"I feel so confused." She trotted up to the table.

"I said I would have a surprise for you, lift the lid." He instructed. She did so and a wonderful ethereal tune began to play. Her eyes widened in delight.

"It's called a music box. I hope you like it." He watched hopefully.

"It's beautiful." She found herself saying. The haunting melody felt calming, almost magical in itself.

"Some treasures from the old world are truly beautiful works of art. Before the war many such wonders existed, how many are left I do not know. The Enclave is not interested in them at all. Only in that which has to do with war, pain, suffering, and power. I had always wanted to find and save things like this more than anything." He had never told her this before either, just how much had they actually kept from her? Could she ever truly trust them again?

"I only wanted my freedom from them. What happened to your parents because of me has haunted me every day of my life. When we finally found this place far from others and vacant I had hoped I could start to bring life back to the land, for you and in honor of them." Sighing he looked to her.

"I will not ask for your forgiveness. I haven't forgiven myself for what happened." He coughed.

"Instead I have come to the realization that I have been wrong. I have been keeping you from the very freedom I myself craved in a very similar way to what I hated. I thought I could shield you from the world, but I cannot. Now I must give you the means to see the world on your own, and to protect yourself." He glanced at her half-cautiously.

"If you will let an old fool continue to act as your father, I will teach you self-defense. Do you agree?" Perhaps it was just the trailing off music from the box affecting her thoughts.

The dawning realization was that he had always done his best for her. Both her parents did truly love her, she had always known that. They had made it clear every day of her life, how could she truly distrust them now?

"Alright, but I don't think I can call you that, for a while..okay?" She looked at him and gave the slightest hint of a smile.

"We understand, let us earn your trust back the right way." Night Bloom interjected.

"I believe that thing that attacked you was once known as a mole, but this one was so much bigger than anything in the enclave cloud databases." He was saying.

"Cloud what?" The young filly asked.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I better get to teaching you a few other things too." He smiled. She had always thought her caregivers were so boring. This was all so new. Never having imagined either of them being this different to whom she thought they were it was very confusing.

"Before I got myself in hot water I was actually training to be a combat instructor." This was certainly a revelation she was not expecting. She decided to ask a few things of him before committing to whatever he had planned for her.

"Why did you leave the enclave? it sounds like you had food and safety and..friends." He startled her by laughing wildly in response.

"My only 'friends' in the enclave betrayed me and got me sent down here in the first place." He practically choked on the words.

"I'm sorry.." She went to say but he waved a hoof at her.

"No, in truth it was the best thing that ever happened to me..and so are you." That was still very embarrassing feeling to hear which elicited a soft blush from her.

"Umm, what are we going to do?" She changed the topic quickly.

"Come with me." He twirled in his cloak and headed out the door. Following in a hurry she trailed him straight to the barn.

"What are we doing in here?" Her inquiry was answered by him walking over to the strange door in the floor they had always ignored. Much to her surprise he entered a string of numbers which started a small clicking sound. She stared in awed amazement as the thick door cracked open and swung upward to the left, pushed out by telescoping steel rods.

A short set of steps was revealed which he promptly went down. Excitedly she walked down to find herself in a single room with buzzing overhead lights on tracks. The ceiling had what looked like spidery metal arms on rails, but it was what was sitting in the center of the room that held her attention. Was that a black metal unicorn? No, it was a hefty sort of steel looking suit. Despite this it appeared a bit frail.

"What, is it?" She managed to gasp.

"It is what my team was sent to locate and retrieve, and it was what let me escape." He pet it.

"Hello, old friend." Friend? what was he talking about?

"What are you doing?" But as she asked its visor flicked to eerie red life. Stepping back in fear she bumped into the wall.

"It was a research project started in the latter years of the war, an experimental stealth suit. That was all we were really told about it, but it is a whole lot more." Waving her over he spoke to the strange suit.

"Authorize new user: earth pony mode." A throbbing electronic sound was heard from within followed by a frighteningly deep voice growling.

"Mode change confirmed." At the same time the back opened outward pushed by bars, practically making her jump out of her skin. "Relax, it is just a machine. One which I do not know everything about. I have learned a few things over the years though. I am going to teach you how to use it." She had craved excitement, this was scary though. Taking a good look around the room she realized there were all sorts of electronic parts on permanently attached shelves lining the walls. Most looked fried. In truth only a few tools and some wire scraps were in any good condition.

"Why is this room here?" He chuckled at the question.

"I don't rightly know. It seems to be some kind of machine shop. I was quite surprised to find it here really. It is obvious this farm was once very advanced, perhaps they relied on robotics or something. There are no records of it that I know of." He smiled.

"It has proven most useful for hiding this." He noticed her looking up at the creepy rail-mounted arms.

"There is a connector for a spark battery over there, but we do not have a full one so I have never been able to see what those can do. Getting one would be very difficult and costly." If they could ever get their hooves on one she knew the first thing she would do.

"But first, I am going to teach you about fighting, tactics and strategy. Self-defense as well." He was going to teach her to use this thing and all that too? She closed her eyes for a moment, was this really happening? Her life up to now had been so boring she had started to hate it. Suddenly it was almost too exciting. They headed back topside.

"When I think you are ready I will give you the code to this door. Understand this is not going to be easy, and I am going to have to be very hard on you. Know that no matter what happens I believe you can take it, understand?" What was she getting herself into? This was the sort of excitement she had always desired wasn't it?

"Yes." Was all she could manage to reply with. "Good. I have set up a spot for training and exercises." She had the distinct feeling it was going to be a long day. A few hours later she was battered, sore, and aching everywhere. He really meant it.

"Now, what have we learned?" He stood by a makeshift dummy he had her practice defensive and offensive moves against for hours on end. Panting heavily her reply was ragged.

"Defenders always have the advantage. Never lose forward momentum. Never fight with your back to a wall. Uhh.." Staggering she continued.

"Avoid a fight whenever possible. Move at angles to enemies. If a fight must be joined do not second-guess or hesitate. Make your enemies defeat themselves. The first choice is usually the correct one. If it's worth shooting once, shoot it again." Her tongue lolled out.

"Can we stop now?" He looked over her with that same stern look she had never seen until recently then relaxed.

"Yes, I think that's enough for today." She had never felt so tired before. Thinking about the fact this was only just the beginning made her feel even more fatigued.

Over the next few months he drilled into her all there was to be known about survival. A long blur of rigorous endless training seemed to go on for ages. During all of this he had proven far more agile than she had ever imagined him to be. Every few days he would have her spar against him. Finally one morning he turned to her and simply said

"It's time." With that he moved over to where she stood.

"Time, time for what?" She questioned. Walking straight up to her he took a defensive stance.

"I have taught you everything I know. Put it all together to knock me down." She went to strike at him to immediately find herself on the ground. Ouch, this was new.

"What have I been teaching you all this time? Now come at me with all you've got." She stood and went to kick only to find the ground again.

"Stop holding back now. If you cannot knock me down I can never believe you can protect yourself, and I need to know." He admonished.

"I don't want to hurt you!" She cried out. At this she was on her back. Oww.

"This is not about what you want, or what I want. This is about what you have to do, so do it." He was never like this before.

She had always known him as the sweet caring pony that was her father until that awful day the truth was revealed. Had things really changed much? Sometimes she wished things hadn't changed at all. Was that true, did she really wish that? No, it was just the reality of it all finally sinking in. She still loved these two as her parents, it was who they had always been and always would be.

"Alright." Getting to her hooves again she promptly launched into a furious barrage of jabs and kicks at him. Everything he said, give it everything.

He was fending off every blow in a near mirror image of her movements stalling or deflecting every strike. Everything. At one of his counter jabs she sidestepped just barely knocking off his punch with a shot of her own. Everything. She rolled underneath him to jab him in the stomach and tripped him with a sweep of her legs. He fell off to the side.

"Oof!" He landed flatly with the wind knocked out of him. Much to her surprise he broke into laughter.

"Oh my, that was good. I think we are done with this portion of your training." This portion? It did not take him very long to recover. He was back on his hooves in nearly an instant and helping her up.

"You're so fast and strong.." She observed. He chuckled and motioned towards the barn.

"Hardly. I was never even all that great of a flier either." She nearly forgot about his wings, they were always hidden under that worn dark cloak.

"I think you are ready to start learning to use this. The code for this door is 1337." She keyed it in prompting the door to swing upwards on its hydraulic tracks.

"That's an awfully short code isn't it?" Her query was met with a smile.

"One of the cloud computing division officers once told me it had some meaning to the elite, or it meant being elite..or was that being discrete?" He was rambling.

"At any rate it used to be 1234." He explained.

"1234?, who would use a code like that?" He got the strangest look on his face.

"You'd be surprised." Now what did that mean? They stood facing the steel suit.

"Years ago this thing saved my life and gave me my chance at freedom. I call him Moonlight." He pressed a panel which made it sort of hiss and split down the middle.

"Him?" This got a laugh from her adoptive father.

"I suppose it is rather silly of me to think of it that way, but I got the strangest feeling of benevolence when I wore it. I call it Moonlight because of its nature. As a stealth suit it is meant for recon and support, not combat." Upon closer inspection she noticed it had a few dents in the metal here and there where hits had been taken. It was obviously ancient but was still operational.

"This thing is something like 186 years old or around there. Truly a masterwork of the time for it to still be functioning now." It was that old?

"Where did you find this thing?" His mood seemed to shift at the question.

"I'd rather not think about that time young one." He looked sad saying it.

"Whoever built this thing sure packed a lot of technology into it. I don't think there was anything else like it. That apparatus that looks like a horn there will let you use a very limited amount of magic." She blinked.

"You mean, just like a unicorn?" she asked excitedly. He couldn't help but grin at her enthusiasm.

"Well, no..it takes a heap of concentration to perform the simplest spell, but don't be disappointed since it does have its uses. Slip on in between the bars there, don't be surprised when it seals once you're in." She did as instructed.

Though she had been warned about it closing, apprehensive feelings still made themselves known. The suit clamped in around her, it was a bit frightening suddenly being encased in metal. A beeping sound was heard as floating gauges rolled up in her vision seeming to float in front and all around. A list momentarily popped up reading:

USCA AI-v28

Spell Matrix: Fully Functional

User Mode: Earth

M.R.A.P. 0% corrupt

K.S.T. 1%

A.E.G.I.S. Operating

Autonomous Actions: None Set!

All Systems Nominal

Some disturbingly red indicators then flashed across her vision as well reading:

Integrity: 63.2%"

Weak integrity: 32%"

Plating integrity:72.8%

Armor Compromised: 78% protection

Weak: Left Hind Joint

Some of that did not sound so good, what was all this? She looked around finding it a little harder and slower to do so than normal.

"Try moving around a bit, slowly." Going to stand she lurched forward.

"Whoa." She yelped, almost falling flat on her face she regained her balance just in time. Moving inside this thing was trickier than expected. Her motions were either too fast and exaggerated or too slow. It felt like the suit responded with too much force or far too little.

"A bit finicky isn't it?" Was that a joke?

"Ha Ha very funny, I must look ridiculous." Stumbling around she walked straight into a wall with a clang at which the suits guttural mechanical voice intoned 'Impact.' No kidding. Getting used to this was going to take a while.

"Keep practicing, once you can make it up the stairs with that on we can continue." He turned and left.

"Hey, wait." Going towards the stairs she suddenly moved laterally into the opposite wall.

"Oh, come on." She groaned.

An hour passed with much consternation and flailing. At first Moonlight seemed to move erratically in response to her actions but this was a misjudgement. She was finally beginning to appreciate that being a stealth suit it required finesse to operate. Its intended role was to move quickly and quietly, or very slowly and hidden in the shadows. Taking this into account seemed to make things smoother. Within another half hour she had it down. Nearly silently walking up the steps she practically glided. How did something like this move so quietly? There was unfortunately a flaw in this, the left hind leg joint sometimes squeaked ever so slightly from whatever damage had previously been inflicted upon it.

That could be an issue which they currently had no means of correcting. After exiting the room she found her father had set up some pieces of broken glass atop some wooden posts.

"What's this for?" She looked it over. He motioned her to where he was standing.

"Uh, dad?" She was finding it easier to call him that again. Her voice sounded a bit odd coming through the suits amp, almost like it wasn't her own.

"Yes?" She needed to ask him a question, now was as good a time as any.

"This has been great and all, and you have taught me so much..just..." She sort of trailed off for a moment.

"Well, out with it." That gruff voice of his always surprised.

"What good is this really? I mean, what am I supposed to do with it? We're farmers.." He nodded, grimacing.

"I knew this would come up, and I do have an idea. Before I explain, let's get you right up to speed with ole Moonlight here." He looked at the suits non-reflective surfaces.

"Always wondered what it was like facing this thing. You look downright intimidating sweetheart." She did, really?

"Let's start with the fun bit shall we?" Fun, that was always good.

"It's time for you to learn some magic." Right. Wha?

"But, I'm an earth pony.." Shushing her he began.

"That slick sharp looking metal horn thing there isn't for stabbing ponies ya know." She giggled a little at his words. It was not really funny and that sounded painful but she couldn't help it.

"Ahem. Focus on one of those pieces of glass there. Will it to come to you." Slowly a soft yellow glow formed around the apparatus as she struggled to make something happen.

Straining heavily she could just barely make out the faintest response in the glass. It vibrated softly but did not move. Panting, her concentration wavered and the glow faded.

"Oh, that didn't work at all." She accidentally kicked at the ground digging a large groove.

"Oops." It was a good thing her father could not see her face and how embarrassed she was to have done that.

"Not bad for a first try. Don't try to force it so much. You just have to visualize what you want to happen and let it work." He advised.

"Try again. Use your mind, not your muscles." This was about the only advice he could give about it. Taking a deep breath she imagined lifting the piece of glass. It took tremendous focus. Slowly the yellow aura began to form again around the apparatus and the glass more strongly. This was so hard. Finally the piece of glass rose up a couple of inches then fell to the ground.

"Ugh. How do you use this?" She Huffed as the aura faded. Each attempt felt very draining.

"You're doing great. That was good. Remember, the machine is only focusing your will, but you are providing the effort. It gets a bit easier with practice. Neither of us could ever hope to match a natural unicorn like your mother in magic though." Trotting over to the post he carefully set the glass atop it again.

"Practice for a while longer, then we'll call it quits for the day." Another 20 minutes of this and she was more tired than she had ever felt before. Having finally managed to float a piece over to herself she was very pleased. Her brain actually felt like it hurt. She noticed the indicator that read K.S.T now indicated 2%.

"By the way, it can also turn invisible for 2 minutes every hour." He said and moved beside her. Huh?

"What does all this gibberish I'm seeing mean anyway?" Speaking even felt difficult after all that.

"I can only tell you a bit. I'm not one of them there sciency type ponies." He brought them down into the room.

"To get out of there just tap a hoof on the ground three times quickly. Any of'em" Doing so prompted the back to separate once more. It was more difficult to slip back up past the separator bars than it was to get in. Silver Quick helped pull her out.

"Is there an easier way out of that thing?" She queried.

"Afraid not. I only know it wasn't even finished when the war ended." The bars pulled back together with a hiss and a click closing the suit once more.

"K.S.T. refers to a miniaturized talisman embedded in there somewhere. Seems they were looking for a way to let us non-magical sorts protect ourselves better along with that magic concentrator. It deflects bullets." Ooh.

"The better you are at using it the higher that percentage goes." Neat.

"Never rely on that. Never." He was emphatic, better remember that.

"That wrap thing or whatever it's called is supposed to protect completely against radiation of any sort by absorbing it, at least until the plate is full. I never felt like testing that myself." He took a moment to rub some dirt off the suit.

"I only got away with two of the plates since one was installed already, and another was strapped to the side for shipping I guess. I doubt there are more in existence." Contemplating the suit he looked almost sad.

"Is something wrong?" Rarely she had noticed that look in his eyes even when he seemed happy.

"Oh, nothing serious. You're still with us, unharmed and healthy. That is all that matters to us you know." He pulled her into a warm hug. Blushing ever so slightly, it was returned. He really was father after all.

"Daddy..dad..Why hasn't this enclave you spoke of come after you if they wanted this suit so bad?" She'd been wondering about that.

"The Enclave never really stops. They just never wanted the suit, it doesn't fly. They only wanted the technology in it, and only to help themselves. Frankly, I am glad to deny it to them." Shaking a hoof in the air while saying this he was a bit livid.

"What good is that? it only helps the obedient slaves that follow them, which is what I was. Almost 200 years and nothing has changed. We should be on the ground, helping. We could, but they love control so much it may never happen." Laughing dryly his only other comment was quiet.

"Let's go eat." Heading into the farmhouse she felt rather accomplished with what she had managed to do today. Entering the hall way she ran up to her mother.

"Mom, mom, I used magic!" She couldn't help herself.

"That is a surprise dear. Your father there never could do anything like that." Silver Quick looked positively shamed at her mothers words.

"Hey, I thought you said.." He hugged them.

"I love you both very much." That kept them quiet for a few minutes. A week passed by as she learned to use to the magic apparatus to the best of her ability. Managing to bring the percentage gauge up to 7% was very confidence boosting. Night Bloom had given her a few pointers on the basics of simple magic which helped considerably. It was nonetheless always a tremendous strain. She figured non-unicorns just weren't meant to cast spells, but her concentration definitely improved.

"Dad, I don't think I can get any better with this stuff." They sat around the table enjoying some well-earned relaxation.

"You are right I think. Next planting season is almost here anyway. It is time I told you my idea." Surprisingly, he spoke gravely.

"We have worked this farm for a long time, and have only barely managed. Without that book up there we never could have done even this. I want to do better." How could they possibly do better?

"What we need is to find a fully intact copy of the Farmers Almanac or a way to recover the missing information." He was serious. Was that even possible?

"For years I have dreamed of finding a method to restore life to the wastes. A way to grow vast fields of crops sounds like a worthwhile endeavor towards that end. What do you think?" He motioned at them both. Night Bloom looked apprehensive.

"It would be dangerous to go looking won't it? I don't want her to get hurt." Looking at her daughter sadly, she seemed resigned that it would happen anyway.

"But, where would we look? Where would we go? What if there are no other copies left? How.." He put his hoof over her mouth.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Right now we need to get rested up. There will be a lot of work to do." Go on a real adventure? Could this be true? Did he really want her to go looking for something that might not even exist? Having never known excitement like this or the nervous anticipation the unknown would bring was a bit nerve wracking. Heading off to bed she wound up tossing and turning for a good while before slowly drifting into dreams. In the early morning before that dim light ever filtered through to the endlessly dull wastes a terrific bang was heard, causing her to fall out of bed. Groaning, she gently rubbed her head and got up to investigate.

Heading towards the kitchen an unfamiliar voice drifted to her ears prompting her to stop dead in her tracks. Who could it be? Nopony other than her family had ever come out here. A horrible cackling laugh was heard as she slipped up to the kitchen entrance quietly as she could manage.

"Gauh!, where is he!? Where is Fluffy!? I know Fluffy was here!" A heavy-set horrible looking pony with his mane up in spikes and wearing strange blood-streaked barding had a hoof against her fathers throat. He slammed Silver Quick up against the wall repeatedly.

"I don't know what yer talking about." he gurgled.

"Got out of his cage he did. So long to track him. I can almost smell his foul odor! Oh how we miss him, his disgusting face. His eviscerating claws. His filthy fur. Where is Fluffy!?" With that he smashed Silver Quick into the wall again. Noticing she was standing in something warm and sticky she glanced down to see her mothers still form lay on the floor.

"No!" She yelled without thinking. The crazy pony turned his head, this gave her father the necessary distraction he needed to hoof his assailant in the groin with a crunch. Screaming maniacally the raider fell on his back.

Flailing wildly in pain the crazed intruder threw a knife from a holster attached to the side of his barding which hit Silver Quick just above the heart. Snorting in agony he bashed the raider in the muzzle with a great crack leaving him to roll and rush off in pain, bowling her out of the way and yelling.

"Boss will get you for this!" Once gone, he fell to the floor.

"Daddy.." She bolted over to him in tears.

"Grab that cloth, hurry." He ordered. She did so quick as she could.

"Pull this out, pull hard and apply pressure with the cloth after." He huffed and yelped as she did.

"D-dad..mom..mommy...she.." Night Bloom lay off to the side, dead. She had been stabbed multiple times, leaving her skirt covered in blood. Gritting his teeth he spoke.

"You have to get out of here." He spat some blood out. What?

"But.." No no no no.

"Listen..darling...he said we..he will bring them here. You must go, now." This was crazy, it could not be.

Things had been getting better, why?

"D-d-daddy..what about you?" She shook and sobbed. Tears streamed from his eyes.

"I'm already dead, I'm sorry sweetheart..we won't be going on any adventures together..please, go.." He was wheezing badly.

"Go where? I don't know!" She cried. Coughing up blood he shuddered violently. Oh no no.

"East..about 320 miles, towards the coast..find griffon Captain Theach, he owes me a big favor..." His breathing became ragged as his heart slowed from blood loss.

"No, daddy! Please, you can't die. You just can't!" Moaning, he strained to speak. He looked at her softly.

"We loved you with all our hearts. Take the suit, caps, all the food and water you can carry." A fiery determination still was held in his eyes.

"You have been the light of our lives. Don't let that light have been meaningless. Help bring life back to the world.." He was slipping away.

"I will, I promise..daddy..." Smiling at her and finally letting his eyes close, her parents were both gone.

Frantically she raced about gathering together what food and water they had stored up, taking it out and throwing it into the back of the smaller cart along with the cap box. All the while a torrent of tears poured down her face relentlessly. She was only just getting over finding out she had been adopted in terrible circumstances and now her caregivers were gone. This was all happening too fast. Could she even manage to get so far away alone? Daddy knew a griffon? It was still half-dark outside, have to get away. In a confused daze she hurriedly finished packing the cart then headed for the barn. Slipping into the stealthy armor she felt slightly safer.

As the suits systems became operational far-off threat indicators worried her. They were coming from the direction of the crystal mountains, she had thought them to be impassable. Somehow in her confusion she still remembered to close the door to the room and piled some junk atop it in hopes it wouldn't be discovered. Slipping into the carts harness bars she rushed off into the darkness, following the suits bearing indicator due east.

"Oh Moonlight, what am I going to do?" She bawled as she trudged off into the wastes. Back at the farmhouse a small band of what appeared to be raiders had gathered inside.

Off in the shadows a large figure appearing almost a part of them looked on.

"You let these weaklings do this to you?" Its low reverberating voice grated on the senses in some indescribable and dark manner. The injured raider hobbled over to the bodies.

"Boss, this stupid filly distracted me. I want her bad. If I ever see her again she will pay for this!" The figure in the dark merely pointed, at which they all scattered.

"I only want one thing, find my beloved pet." Eventually they discovered the far away mound where the occupants had dragged and buried the mole creatures body.

The thing in the shadows became enraged when informed, letting loose a hissing growl. A moment later it regained its composure.

"Plans have changed. We will need these bodies." His eyes seemed to glint in the dark.

Is she beginning a reluctant adventuring career or is she just another soul about to be swallowed whole by the uncaring wastes?

Rote Rememorisation

36 hours to war end: Inside an outlying Canterlot mail sorting hub.

"I brought you a letter!" A grey pegasus with a bubble cutie mark and a seemingly permanently happy expression was mumbling around the grip of a huge mail bag.

"That's not a letter. That is a whole bag of letters." The Postmaster General went to say as she dropped the hefty bag on his hoof causing him to dance about in pain.

"Oopsy." Was her only reaction to it as she turned around to pick up a huge letter almost as big as herself.

"I meant this letter." Her eyes crisscrossed looking down at the enormous envelope.

"What in Equestria is that?" He queried.

"I don't know, it has postage paid. The address only says Mail though. I'll just put it over here." She went to step forward.

"No, wait!" Tumbling over the bag she had just dropped sent her crashing into a sorting rack which toppled over, knocking into other shelves like a gigantic set of dominoes until the entire facility was engulfed in a torrent of mail. The Postmaster hung his head as the last letter fluttered to the pile. Looking around he could barely hear from under the mess.

"I just don't know what went wrong." Sighing in response, he managed to say:

"I think I do.." Her head popped up as he said it.

"Really?" She mumbled. He covered his face with a hoof.

After straightening up a bit he met her in the office section. She was not a regular worker but an additional hire brought in to help with the high volume of mail.

"Are you sure you want this weeks pay in nothing but..muffins?" He asked looking at her quizzically.

"I'm throwing a muffin party." The grey mare told him. A what?

"Are you really sure? that is a lot of muffins." He pointed at a large stack of trays full of assorted muffins in all shapes and sizes.

"Yep, it's everything I ever dreamed of." He was distracted by her randomly crossing eyes.

"Wait, your dream was to throw a muffin party?" He asked incredulously.

"Mmm muffins.." She said absently. What was she talking about?

"They are yummy in my tummy!" She seemed almost to be elsewhere.

"Well uh, okay then. You can carry them in one of the mail sacks." He pointed her to a rack of large empty mailbags. She set about dumping the trays into the bag then backed into a desk which promptly fell over dumping its entire contents.

"Why me?" He moaned.

"You want some muffins?" She mumbled around the bag. He grit his teeth.

Shooing her out the door he set about rallying the staff back to work. The work today was sure to take a long while. He considered activating one of the Mister Handy bots to assist, what pony gave them that strange name anyway? Those things made him slightly nervous no matter how friendly they seemed. The particular bot in its cubicle had for some reason been named A.I.D.E. Everypony called it Aidee which was fairly ironic considering how very male the voice unit sounded. A day later and they were still going at it very late.

The dedicated staffers had done an excellent job catching up the backlog of sorting but were also being overwhelmed by an unusually high volume of letters coming and going, something big was going on. The Postmaster had barely been able to keep things on track for weeks. The loyal staff was overworked and tired leaving them absolutely needing a break. He had taken great pride in his mark which symbolized the very values of leadership and organization. These skills had lent themselves well to the job, but even he was having trouble keeping up with this. Not knowing what was soon to befall them he had made the difficult decision to grant the entire staff a much needed two day break.

Assembling them he made the announcement.

"You sure about this, Posty?" One of the more elderly and dour looking mares piped up. Being longtime chums with everypony working there the nickname had stuck.

"I have ordered all priority mail rerouted elsewhere. We are all worn out, go home and see your families. Just as much work will be here when you return. In the meantime I will finish up overnight here along with Aidee. I need the time off too, I'm getting married the day after tomorrow." This announcement was followed by a flurry of congratulations.

"If any of you wish to attend you are most welcome. There will be plenty of cake." One of the junior mail carriers chimed in.

"Shouldn't you get more time off for that sort of thing?" The question was true enough.

"There is far too much work lately. We will just have to go on our honeymoon when things die down." He waved them out. The group went out the door as he headed over to the corner robotics terminal by the window. It had been used rarely, and usually only for routine janitorial duties.

Far off in the distance he could just make out the great bascule bridge which fronted Canterlot, for the last long while it had mostly remained drawn closed. It had become a routine sight for it to be shut.

"They must be on high alert again." he muttered. Before the war started it was mostly considered a decorative touch to the capitals great main gate. However one looked at it, it still remained a defensive ground structure which when closed completely cut off ground access, aside from the rail station entrance which no enemy force could possibly break through thanks to clever internal defenses.

Some time after the war began the new mail sorting facility had been built outside of the capital for purely logistical and security reasons. Wouldn't want to carry a bomb or something straight into the city. There were after all some ponies just crazy enough to be enemy sympathizers. An air of distrust and despair had quietly settled over the once shining city. Closing the windows metallic shutters he set about getting the odd spherical bot to help him finish up. It still gave him the shivers to see it hover about with the many arms it possessed, like some floating spider. The bots cubicle door slid open behind him. Hovering out to begin its assigned tasks it gave a customarily cheerful:

"Good evening sir, working late I see. The office has been left in disarray as usual. Really, what would you do without me?" It floated to a supply closet where it grabbed a broom with a mechanical pincer and began clearing up clutter while collecting any dirt and garbage it ran across.

"Will you be needing me the entire night sir?" He had forgotten it was actually capable of asking a couple of standard questions.

"Yes Aidee, I'm afraid so. Gotta get all finished up so I can rest tomorrow before my wedding." He did not know how much of that the bobbing machine could actually understand.

"Oh, a wedding. Congratulations sir! You will want to be in tip-top shape for the, I presume, beautiful bride-to-be." It really did sound cheerful. Apparently it at least could respond to some form of conversation. It was likely programmed to respond to key words or combinations thereof. Still, it was better than spending the remainder of the night alone.

"I need a drink." He said absently.

"Allow me, sir." Aidee hovered off while humming and singing a trailing patriotic sounding tune, as it left the room he could just hear:

"Blessed bodies of the heavens, sun and moon of greatest light.." It returned with a hot cup of tea a few moments later. He took a sip and set it on a desk. A few hours later and both had nearly finished their respective work. He was just about to call it quits when the bot slipped past accidentally knocking the empty cup on the floor.

"We are done Aidee, back into your closet." He ordered as he bent down to pick up the cup. At this instant a terrible thud was heard along with seeing a flash of pink and a sudden warm sensation ran over him. "What was that?, oh well." He picked the cup up and set it on the desk.

He sets the cup up, the cup falls down.

"Good morning sir! Still at it I see. Your work ethic is impeccable I must say." Morning? A strong feeling of Déjà vu struck him as the robot set off on whatever task it deemed necessary. Good thing he'd be done soon. This seemed so strangely familiar. He did not notice the cracks in the walls, the dust that had settled around him.

"As usual the office is in disarray, I will perform my daily routines." He picks up the cup, the cup falls down.

"Good morning sir! If only all employees would strive for excellence in attendance as you do. I will perform my daily routines." He picks up the cup, the cup falls down. Good morning? A strong feeling of Déjà vu struck him as the bot whisked past to attend some chore or other. He puts the cup on the desk, the cup falls down.

"Good morning sir! Haven't gone off to be married yet? You are going to be late. Don't worry, I'm sure it is just pre-wedding jitters! I will perform my daily routines." Late for his wedding? Good thing he'd be finished soon. This seemed so familiar.

Surely you can see where this is going. Some fates perhaps truly are worse than death.

Author's Note

By my calculations based on various key indicators such as depicted travel times, justifiable existence of rail links, and fitting these to the official map then the Equestrian land mass is approximately 198,435 square miles, slightly smaller than Thailand. At this scale Ponyville would be about 60 miles from Canterlot. (Addendum: Movie canon and map suggests the landmass is a bit larger than this by approximately 8000-12000 more miles due to the addition of more south and possibly? a land-bridge to the west) Plenty of room to roam.
The more you know.

Stable Dwellers Ragtime Downbeat (Promo Reel)

A white-coated unicorn wearing fancy business attire displaying the Stable-Tec logo and looking entirely professional is setting up an 8mm mint reel-to-reel projector in the projectionists booth at the back of the theater. A sign outside says 'Free entertainment today. Provided by Stable-Tec. Your conscientious public safety provider. Additional promotional consideration provided by Krastos Glue Manufactories Inc.' As the projector clicks and flashes to life the grainy picture begins to flicker on the white backing screen, scratchy sounding music starts to rise.

"Alright folks, in return for your upcoming free viewing of the new hit film Lollipops and Rainbows, Frolicking Unicorn United theaters presents this Stable-Tec public pony service message." He fiddled with a knob on the projector to bring it into focus.

"Hello, and welcome to this Stable-Tec promotional reel, prospective apocalypse survivors! We regret that our director of P.R. Miss Sweetie Bell will not be joining us for this promotion, saying quote:

"I won't have anything to do with this. Why are you doing it anyway? I never asked for this, and I didn't sign off on it either."

"The frowny face now displayed on the screen shows how much this saddens us, but on with the show." A band comprised of two pianists, a violinist and various backing players appears on the screen.

"We have a real treat for you today, pony and other folk. A genuine ragtime band. Also, some random green unicorn with a lyra that we pulled in off the street whom nopony seems to be able to recall the name of suddenly or even remember is in this film except when looking directly at it, but trust me the music is great! Here we go, now put your hooves together for Well Tuned and the Sharp Notes." Some pony with a heart shaped microphone as a cutie mark began to sing as the band piped up a sad yet upbeat tempo:

Will it be safe out here? Well you should think twice again oh my dear. Now you don't want to live in fear, so why don't you live down inside of here? You may think this is sort of weird, but it sure beats staying out and getting seared. It's a question we ask. We are up to the task. Come live right on down inside here. Our walls are four hooves thick, you can bet that you just won't get sick. Better a house of brick, than one made of useless old stick. You should decide real quick, come on make your pick, just listen to all of our schtick. What will come on down could almost flatten the town, knocking you round, pounding you right into the ground.

This may not all seem sound, but trust me it's best all round. Come on down right inside of here. You'll love what all we have, it is not so bad. You should try not to look so very sad. It will be tot'ly rad, there is so much to be had, come on down inside here. Even those with crowns should try not to wear frowns. Why we even have merry-go-rounds. So pick up your tail and then we'll all set sail to a bright day way on down the line. We know that you'll have fun when all is said and done. So come on down inside of here. Then we'll lock you in where you'll be safe within without a care in the entirety of the world. You will dance and spin and then you'll twirl and grin and say we love it way down in here.

'3 Bar Instrumental Break' Was displayed on the screen.

"I knew we grabbed that unicorn for some reason." The projectionist whispered to himself. The audience looked on, mesmerized by the melody she played. As the sad and very forlorn looking unicorn with the heavy instrument strummed she closed her eyes, losing herself in the magical sounding music. The slightest of smiles graced her face as she played, finally taking a bow. After her brief interlude everypony watching soon forgot she had ever been there. The song continued into its ending notes:

Now we know just what it is you'll say. That there simply is not any way. For those big bombs to rocket off. Causing aftershocks and blowing off all your socks. To leave nothing but the ever glowing rocks and destroy all of the docks. Preparing is best. No matter the test. So easy you'll rest down inside here. (END) Displayed as the pianos struck their final notes while the picture faded to a great Stable-Tec door then died down.

The pianos trailed off as the pony wearing the polished business attire stepped up in front of the screen.

"Thank you for your attention everypony. Should any of you wish to try and attain a slot in a Stable-Tec wartime safety stable just head on in to a registry office in your area. Space is limited, so the sooner you apply the more likely you will receive a position. We are looking for everything from plumbers to technicians and artists. Ponies from any walk of life may apply." An earth pony mare walked in from the side and whispered in his ear then trotted off as quickly as she came in.

"I have just been informed a sky-cart parked behind the theater seems to have a malfunctioning spark battery which is spewing smoke. Would the pegasi that handle this cart please tend to it immediately." A couple of pegasi sitting in the back row hurriedly ran out the door followed by an immaculately dressed pearl colored unicorn wearing a monocle and top hat.

"Sorry about that interruption folks. One last thing before we play your free film. Any pony interested please remain in your seats after the show for an encore presentation of the short hit film Ultra Fast Ponies Going Very Fast. Nopony knows who filmed it or why, but I hear it is mighty fast. The theater will now present the film you have all been waiting for." The title credits for the movie by famed director I. Ron Butter Fly scrolled up onto the screen.

Wasn't that just a barrel'o'fun folks?

The Grim Velvet Monster of Silent Lake

It sat by the edge of the quiet unmoving lake, forever staring at some fixed point in the distance. Its hide chewed and rotted, torn and broken. How it came to be here in this place was an unknown. Any that ever saw the hideous thing ran for their lives as if the great walls between goodness and evil had simply fallen asunder. One eye hung askew, set back as it was on its strangely sloped head. It had at one time been a source of mirth. Now it sat as a harbinger of dread, instilling fear in any unlucky enough to chance upon it. As with many things in the world what passed before had become near-about meaningless.

The storied histories of ages full of prosperity and happiness ended in one quick swing of fates fickle sword, leaving the world to its decline into decay and obscurity. Its rounded back sagged, its twisted feet lay splayed to the sides, discolored patches across it gave to it the look of something tormented by long exposure in the unforgiving wastelands. No pony dared approach the small forever placid lake at the base of the mountains. The rumors of a vile monstrous apparition were enough to deter even the hardiest of wanderers from the effort. The calm water, a most valuable commodity in a land destroyed was not a big enough draw to entice an adventurous soul to come near.

Stories of a cruel, forever smiling monstrosity spread across the region. The edge and outlying areas of the lake were immediately abandoned after the war ended so suddenly and with such great violence. Though far removed from any major blast or other disaster the water had proven undrinkable. Time enough passed for it to look clear and inviting once more. None would try. If anything held true in the wastes it was that rumors of monsters could turn out to be very real. This clearly present fact was enough in itself to prevent taking advantage of this valuable oasis of potentially potable water. This is also what led to the crude reward posters looking for anyone brave enough to clear the area.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Tisket. You and your need for 'entertainment' have almost gotten us killed three times in the last two months alone, I almost wound up with two heads and you almost lost yours! Next time, I pick the mission and that is final." A lilac unicorn mare with a # for a cutie mark was berating a hefty teal-coated earth pony. He wore unusual color banded barding that looked like it would fall apart at any moment which inexplicably remained in place.

"Oh come now, Tasket. We both know you would've enjoyed the chance to talk to yourself. You do it enough already. Besides, it doesn't matter anyway." Tasket harrumphed as they looked at the poster pinned to the edge of the disused crossroads.

It was written atop an old paper already on something that seemed like it was a signpost at one time. An ancient advertisement under the writing heralded a very faded 'Buy a Cheval Corsega LS, twice the cart for twice the pony.'

"That is a very strange sign, Tisket." Her tone was a little apprehensive.

"Do you really want to go there? They say that a disgusting creature guards the lake, but I suppose that sort of thing is right up your alley." He just grunted in response. His eyes were transfixed on the amount of caps being offered if anypony could prove it safe to approach the far off lake.

She could almost imagine seeing a pile of caps reflected in his gaze. Tasket waved a hoof in front of his face. At first he didn't even notice.

"Hey Tisket look..free money!" He snapped out of his reverie.

"I can almost hear the clinking of all those caps already." The most sly expression graced his face. She poked him in the ribs.

"Hey, what was that for?" He was now frowning at her in quite a display of emotion.

"Oh, just to remind you the last time you said something like that the repairs cost more than what you got." She was snickering under her breath.

"Just you wait, we are going to hit it big one of these times out." He looked dreamy again.

"Something will probably get hit alright..again." She snorted.

"You know it won't matter.." she shook her head before he could finish.

"Let's go, Sis." They marched on.

"This doesn't even sound like one of our normal missions, Tisket. It wasn't on the list at base camp." They were walking towards what had been the edge of a forest. Off in the distance stood the small shimmering lake. The shadows of a far off mountain range could just be made out. Distances in this type of terrain were terrifically deceiving. It took an entire days marching just to come within sight of it.

"We'll camp here tonight before getting any closer. I don't think wandering around in the dark is a good idea." Tasket pointed a hoof at a potential campsite. Previous experiences wandering taught them not to make campfires too visible.

Drawing attention was often a big mistake when dealing with the denizens of the wastes.

"Why did we have to take a mission so far away to begin with anyhow? It was almost 200 miles from camp.." She sounded perturbed.

"The reward for locating an old military weapons cache would have been enormous. At least we got this." He held up an odd looking greebled shoulder mountable rifle.

"Yeah, with no ammo..maybe you can sell it to cover our expenses." She teased. He frowned.

"I don't wanna." He stuck out his tongue. Tasket rolled her eyes and looked off towards the lake.

"I just hope this isn't another long haul for nothing, that old pony talking about the reward seemed a bit addled if you ask me." The promise of a large pile of caps erased any reservations Tisket might have had about checking it out. In light of their previous mission having been nearly fruitless save for finding the ancient magitech rifle, getting a pile of caps would be heavenly.

"We don't even know what that rifle fires. Why keep it?" Tisket made a point of carefully cleaning it each night before sleeping, by now it looked positively shiny.

"You may have got all the brawn in the family Tisket, but I got all the brains as you well know. Would it hurt you to listen to me a bit more often?" She sighed.

"Did you say something? I wasn't listening." Tasket groaned at the reply. He was eying the bulky rifle dreamily.

"Tisket, we don't even know what that thing does. Just consider selling it, will you?" A nod was all she got. He looked over a terribly drawn map they were given back in the areas only small settlement. They were now a long way northwest of what was once Fillydelphia. They nor any other pony would try to approach the city proper, dark things were known to be happening there, and terrible rumors flew.

Although not impossible to obtain, fresh water was still a valuable commodity. One of the few residents in this outlying region even gave them a small enticement of fifty caps to help secure their services.

"Look over there, Tisket." She'd spotted a small structure, really nothing more than a tiny ancient shed. Carefully they peeped inside.

"Seems empty, we can sleep in here." There was just enough room for them both to squeeze in with their saddlebags and equipment.

The shed if it contained anything was picked clean by some soul either brave or desperate enough to come out this far.

"Not much, but better than sleeping outside I suppose." She commented.

"I can't wait to get back to my quarters at base camp. I haven't slept on a real bed in weeks!" She pulled a small ragged sheet out of a bag, spreading it out on the floor.

"Your quarters aren't much bigger than this shed." Tisket was laying out his weapons to check them over.

"Yes, but I don't have to share it." They filled in some time before settling in for the night discussing where to start searching around the lake.

"We should start at the southwest end, the lake is thinner towards that area so it should go faster and be easier to finish scouting out." She pointed at a section of the map.

"Alright, we have one slight problem. Our previous endeavor has left us low on ammo for both my pistols and for your sniper, better carry a grenade each and carry a shotgun instead." She pulled two scatterguns off their straps. One was scuffed and had a wide stock to it, on the other the name Pepper was engraved on the barrel.

"Aww, I hate using those things Tasket. I'm no good with either of them." He mumbled.

"Oh quit your bellyaching. You're the one that missed eight times with those expensive sniper rounds." She was glaring.

"That wasn't my fault and you know it, we were practically in a tornado." Tisket tucked the odd rifle away with his other gear.

"Yeah, a tornado you caused by messing with things you know nothing about." She looked pretty smug.

"How was I supposed to know that big red button with a skull on it would do that?" She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Next time you see anything..or want to touch anything at all, just think to yourself what would Tasket do? Then, don't do it anyway." It was his turn to sigh.

"You think you just know everything don't you, Sis?" He got comfortable on the sheet beside her.

"No, which is why I don't go rushing headlong into every possible situation. You managed to make getting a wrench dangerous before." He yawned.

"I remember like it was yesterday." She glared at him once more. "What?" He asked.

"Tisket, It was yesterday!" He was a bit embarrassed at that.

"Oh. Let's just get some sleep now." he said and they drifted off. The days and nights in the Equestrian wastes share a similar hue, it is merely far more dull and dark. Next mornings slow, ever so slight lightening of the sky above shed no real new light on the ruined land.

"Weapons check out. Ready to go, brother of mine?" She asked chipperly.

"You seem awfully enthusiastic today, Sis." He gently rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stretched with a crack.

"Oww oww." She was chuckling at his misfortune.

"Hey, that hurt ya know.." They gathered up their gear and prepared to head out.

"Whats the matter, getting old?" She snorted.

"We're the same age!" His indignant reply just made her laugh some more.

"Could have fooled me, creaky." He slipped into his dimly multicolored barding, mumbling to himself.

"Hey Sis, how come you won't wear any barding? We have run into a fair amount of dangerous things in our travels." He was genuinely curious as she never wore any kind of protective gear.

"I'm not a fighter. I am a tactician, a strategist. It works best when we're utilizing your sniper, but I have good instincts and can analyze a situation quickly. Why do you think I always let you go first?" She smiled while finishing attaching her saddlebags and gear.

"I would be no good at all in a straight up fight if it weren't for Pepper here." The two shotguns were equipped with bit-catch firing mechanisms allowing an earth pony to fire either with ease. Peppers stock was custom, made to carry many extra shells pointing outwards at an angle for fast reloading. A unicorn such as herself could fully reload the heavy scattergun with frightening speed.

"Why not use a sniper as well then?" He asked while she connected Pepper to a quick-release carrying belt across her back.

"This weapon is best for me personally and great for backing you up when anything manages to get close-in. Peppers spread is exceedingly wide so I don't have to aim much." She gave him the generic shotgun.

"We have quite a surplus of shells built up, if we do get in a scrape just blast away." She paused momentarily and decided to add:

"Away from me."

"Remember neither of these have a whole lot of range. I don't like it, but if there is anything to shoot at we have to work our way in closer first." They headed towards the lake in the distance. It was likely the lake was fed by mountain runoff. If it proved safe to drink it would be a valuable resource for travelers, and for those seeking to provide more drinking water for further off destinations. Tasket always carried an ancient pair of binoculars that she procured during a previous adventure.

"Ya know, the Captain is gonna be worried we are so late returning." He mentioned.

Peering through them, she could not detect any movement as the area was carefully surveyed.

"Oh that old blowhard can wait. there are more than enough mercs around besides us." Tisket took the lead.

"Yeah, half of whom get killed or are all talk. Just trying to take advantage. We complete the missions we accept." She took great pride in this simple fact. They were good at what they did. They garnered a fair reputation for themselves this way.

Travel was generally slow across the wastes, avoided whenever possible by all but the most stout. This state of affairs meant news spread equally as slowly, especially far away from the few still functional transmitters. Interference from magical radiation permeated much of the landscape. Even short range broadcasts were subject to fits and starts of functionality. Nonetheless sometimes signals did reach far off places away from beaten paths. Nopony dared think it possible to rise once more to the magitechnical heights their civilization once enjoyed. At one time though struggling with a ceaseless war they enjoyed creature comforts never imagined possible before.

The rich attained ever loftier amounts for their coffers on the backs of others. In every possible way the war was taken advantage of in the shadows. Resource trading even continued under hushed guard. Nowadays this meant sometimes things were found in ever such odd places. The two siblings marched towards the edge of the lake with Tisket some distance in front. The rest of the lake was ringed by forest presenting a more hazardous trek they would have to undertake, for now they cautiously searched the open area.

"This seems safe enough Sis, there isn't a single thing here." Tasket magicked out an empty container to take a water sample then tucked it back in.

"Sure it looks safe, everywhere looks safe at first glance. We have to prove it actually is, so keep your guard up. Something feels funny to me around here, like we're being watched." Moving on, neither of them noticed the small ripple in the otherwise unmoving water. After thoroughly checking around the waters edge they set off towards the dense forest ringing the rest of the lake.

"There used to be some kind of town called Hollow Shades off to the west through there I think, but nopony goes trekking through the forest. I don't know if its still there." She wiped some sweat from her brow.

"And before you ask, we are not going to go looking. It could be dangerous and it's way further out of the way." She made plain they were not going to do that.

"We only need to make sure it is safe around the general vicinity of the lake proper, anything else is not our problem." Tasket pointed at the treeline.

"This is gonna be tough. Looks like we're in for another long slog. Thanks a whole lot, Tisket." Her frown was decidedly unpleasant.

"Cheer up Sis, we are getting paid for this after all. Where is your sense of adventure?" He gave his sister a gentle hug.

"Like you said, we're the best." That did seem to lift her spirits a bit.

"Alright alright, just don't go getting overconfident. We better keep it quiet from here out until this area is secure." She turned off a small receiver she always carried on the off chance of hearing stray signals, also doubling as a sort of makeshift radiation detector as static levels severely rose when close to sources. It was not a reliable means of detecting it, but most of the ancient technology long ceased functioning or was pillaged by whomever could get their hooves on it.

The unique magitech rifle could potentially fetch a very high price from the right buyer. Here and there ancient pieces of what had been railway ties could be seen, a line ran straight into Hollow Shades before the war. Now who knew what might lurk in that unknown place far off through the dense forest. Dead or not, the trek would be nearly impossible through the seemingly serene region. She knew Tisket held even more of a desire for frenetic action than herself, and that was saying a whole lot. She could just envision him trying to undertake such a journey, and constantly worried what her brother might do if he should ever find himself without her guidance.

She did not think him to be an idiot despite his idiosyncrasies, but he was impulsive and rash to the extreme. Through their years of travel together they faced down many foes, some of which might even have been deemed mighty. This was actually part of the problem. They always came out ahead, but ever just barely and only due to them working together. He really was too confident. She tried to talk to him about it, but it was one subject he always brushed off as being unimportant.

"How long have we been away from camp anyway, Tasket?" He asked of his sister. His ability to keep track of time was rather a bit lacking.

"A good month and a couple weeks now. A couple extra days isn't gonna change much. There will almost certainly be new missions on the board by now, but first thing I'm doing when we get back is sleeping on a real bed for a few days. They better not have tried to rent out my quarters again either, I paid for those up front. When we do get back do you think you can avoid getting into trouble for just a few days, please Tiskey, please?" He could tell she was really worn from this extra long excursion.

"Alright alright, I get it. You're grumpy and worn out, I could use some downtime myself anyway. Once we are done with this, we will take a break." She looked relieved.

The hours wearily dragged on as they found their way through the dense treeline. Many of the trees were dead which presented more of a problem than an entirely living forest would thanks to some nearly exploding upon being touched. That so many of the trees did still live was either testament to them being quite hardy or perhaps the mountain ridges that ringed them far off to both sides provided some modicum of protection. Altogether this made traversing the area far louder than would have been preferred.

"Wouldn't all this have brought anything or anypony out if they were here?" Tisket asked as yet another fallen branch popped under hoof.

"Probably, but we need to finish circling the entire lake to be sure. I won't do something we took on halfway. We need to find a campsite, at this rate it will take us at least another day to finish up." They headed on for an hour before finding a small clearing.

"Will this do, Sis? It looks safe enough, and we haven't heard or seen anything but ourselves. I am starting to think this whole thing was just some rumor that got seriously out of control." Settling in for the night, Tasket still felt like eyes were upon them.

"Tasket, when we were sort of near Manehatten a while ago, well.. you saw that saw that black armored figure go running off in the distance too, right?" She nodded slowly.

"At first I thought it was just a trick of the light that far away. I hope it wasn't one of those technology obsessed crazies, they do hang out around there. It looked weird somehow. I thought it looked like a unicorn but they can't wear that stuff, can they? It was so far away though. Probably just the light.." Panning around her binoculars she decided to put them away.

"Too many trees. I can't see ahead of us at all in here. Well, here we go again." Picking their way through the forest was a time consuming and tedious effort.

The lake came right up to the edge of some trees. Their steps were chosen cautiously to avoid sinking as well, delaying them further. Many hours passed as they excruciatingly worked their way northwards. The trees simply were not thinning out in this area.

"Better tack on another whole day to this, Tiskey.." She moaned.

"Oh relax Sis, its not really hard work. Let's use that clearing off to the west a bit to camp tonight." Was his response. The next morning they continued the painfully slow journey until finally passing mostly out of the forest near the base of the mountains.

"I know I said this would be a cakewalk, but this seems almost too easy Sis." Tisket wanted at least a little adventure in their adventure. They quickly became wearied of carrying weapons at the ready, but both knew better than to put them away in such circumstances. Often the moment one feels safest can prove the most dangerous. This however was proving to be the least exciting mission ever undertaken by either of them.

"This will be the easiest 500 caps we have ever..." Tasket walked into her brother who suddenly stopped moving.

"Oof, what are you doing?" She grunted and turned towards the waters edge where he was looking.

"You have got to be kidding." They both burst into fits of laughter for a long moment.

"Really, really? hah hah ahaha. Oh that is rich. Seriously, this is what got them all scared?" Light was glinting off its button eyes hanging askew. She pulled hard to remove it from the mud nearly ripping it in half.

"This is just some old toy somepony dropped who knows how long ago." As she shook the ancient toy it was practically disintegrating while the mud flaked off. It looked like a turtle assembled together from random bits of cloth and stuffing, old springs and wire. Slipping it into one of her saddlebags Tasket sighed.

"This could be a problem. Will anypony even believe this is what it was?" Tisket placed a hoof over his face.

"Who knows, but that seems awful small to get all worried over. Don't ya think?" She shrugged in a most nonchalant way.

"We have almost circled the entire lake anyway, the easiest route back is to just keep going. I don't want to climb back through all that." She rolled out the crude map to point out her proposed route.

"Yeah, since we're going that way anyway we should pass near the base of that mountain." Tisket looked off in the distance, it would not take them more than an hour to get that far.

His estimate was thrown off once again by the deceiving terrain. It instead took them a good three hours to reach the mountains base.

"This has been the most boring mission ever, Sis. I'm so bored my boredom is getting boring." Tasket was looking through her binoculars again.

"I am almost starting to agree with you. So I have some good news for you. There is a cave entrance over there. If we were really lucky it could be an old hidden weapons cache or something. Want to check it out?" Tisket was practically frothing at the mouth upon hearing the news.

"I'll take that as a yes." She reached out and closed his mouth.

"Remember, caution." He nodded back as they both set down any unnecessary gear for the moment.

"I will look in slowly with a dim light spell, we don't have any of those old flares left unfortunately. That leaves me going ahead. Stagger position." They headed for the wide cave entrance. It was obscured from further away by brush and lots of dead brambles, that she'd seen it hidden in the distance at all was sheer luck even with her keenness of vision and perception.

Tisket took a position off to her right and behind slightly where there was open ground if they needed to move back quickly.

"I am only doing this because places like this actually can hold something of real value." She prepared her spell, keeping it dim as possible. Holding Pepper where she could fire safely if need be. She peered into the darkness within, ever so slowly moving forward. Suddenly she started moving backwards at a high rate with an alarmed expression on her face. He knew to move back as she did. She was whispering even as she unhooked her grenade.

"I should have known, Bloodwings!" She seethed through gritted teeth as she telekinetically hurled the grenade inside the cave mouth. Even as it was being thrown a hissing growling was heard, just as it landed one of the huge mutant bats flung out of the cave with another two directly behind. Right as the old grenade exploded the one in the rear was half crushed under the falling rubble. One was pinned down, but the other two were circling wildly overhead.

"Fire fire!" Tasket pointed Pepper straight up but was holding back due to the shorter range. Tisket's shotgun was a little better but he was unused to handling it, especially for aiming at something strafing above.

It took him a moment to be sure of a shot just as one dived out of its circle straight at her. She fired Pepper's super wide spread nearly point blank into the beasts face leaving it to screech and scream as she jumped backwards landing on her back heavily with it just missing raking her while Tisket finally got a bead on it and fired, blowing off its wing. The massive creature twirled and smashed into the ground with a heavy thump, letting out a final shrill screech. It lay still. Panting, the pair quickly moved away from the thing. A quick glance to the former cave entrance made it obvious the other quickly perished after being pinned by the falling rocks.

If there were more in the cave beyond the rubble they thankfully could not get out. There was still one high overhead to deal with. It was coming. The remaining bloodwing swooped out of its circle while Tisket unloaded several blasts that only struck glancingly. It was extremely agile and fast. It tilted downward further into a straight dive past Tasket's head, causing her to perform a combat roll out of the way at the very last instant. It dove and twisted in an almost figure eight pattern while they both fired at it, the shots crossing hit it from both angles at the same time, cutting it in half and into several pieces. The dead body flung off in two separate directions with a wet thump. Its head landed directly in front of Tasket splattering her front with blood. She gave out the slightest hint of a fearful sound.

"Oh yuck, gah. Disgusting. Eww eww eww." She tried to shake some off. Tisket came running over from where he wound up during the scuffle. Seeing the blood on her he went a bit wide-eyed. Breathing heavily he reached her position.

"Tasket, Tasket! You okay?" He was generally a nonchalant sort of fellow and rarely serious, but his expression was grave. Even a single scratch from a Bloodwing could prove poisonous on its own. She was not bitten which would have been even worse.

"I think so, they didn't hit me or touch me. Close one though." She huffed.

"That was a bit more than we bargained for. It at least explains why this area has such a bad reputation aside from the toy thing. We will definitely get paid now, since we have two explanations." She rubbed the back of her head where she landed quite hard on the firm ground.

"We should get away from here, that racket could have been heard for miles and we don't need any more surprises. I've got to get this off me before it stains, or seeps into my skin or something." They headed back to pick up the gear and trotted off at a fast pace towards the water where she could wash off.

Even during the run to the lake they knew to fully reload their weapons. Ten minutes of rinsing was wearing. It was finally coming out. It was taking some serious scrubbing to get the blood off Tasket's coat.

"Uhg, finally. That was disgusting. I can't believe that even happened. Why, oh why did it have to land like that?" She complained. Tasket was standing watch a meter away. What he did not realize was he was looking in the wrong direction. They'd let themselves fall into a false sense of security. Tasket firing Pepper into the lake repeatedly caused him to spin around.

"What are you doing, Task..' He was cut off by a large tooth-filled snout popping out of the water where she was firing.

"What.." Tasket screamed and unloaded shell after shell into the things rocky armored hide, not deterring it very much. Tisket began pumping out shots as well, it was just enough to keep the slimy creature at bay.

"Tiskey, incendiary!" She screeched while diving away just as the ghastly things snout swung past her, a jagged tooth slicing her left foreleg painfully. Tisket finished popping in an incendiary shell, firing into its mouth when it went to snap. The huge armored reptile thrashed wildly with smoke coming out of its nostrils, looking like some demonic entity.

It smashed around seeking relief only to be fueled by rage at the unceasing burning in its gullet. Tasket half circled then ran in, jamming the barrel of his gun straight through its eye, pulling the trigger as he did so which made the head explode outwards in a rain of brains and gore that splattered on them both. Its heavy body twitched and slumped against the ground to finally lay still.

"AAAH!" Tasket was laying off to the side, wincing and moaning in serious pain from the gash across her leg.

"Tasket, hang on!" He unfurled the cover of one of the saddlebags which contained some medical supplies.

He splashed a little water across her leg to clean it as best he could, causing her even more discomfort then wrapped her injury with thick gauze.

"The wound is not too deep Sis, I think it'll be okay." He tried to comfort her. She gurgled a little and looked a bit pale, probably more from surprise than anything.

"Now I have to get cleaned off somehow..again." She bemoaned her misfortune. They were both completely coated in blood and pieces of who knew what.

"Hey, do you know how hard it is to clean barding?" He was closest, his barding was now a singular rust color.

"Gotta get this stuff off it, and our weapons." This proved an even more difficult task for Tasket than before. Painkillers of any sort were not cheap or easy to come by. She popped the very last of their supply. If this did not warrant medication she could not imagine what would. Even with the drug she was hurting badly.

"Ohh, why does medicine make you feel worse and better at the same time?" She complained. The drug made her feel sick and lightheaded. She could not complain about the reduction in pain.

Several hours later they finally completed their circuit of the lake.

"We can't possibly get back to that little settlement before dark with my injury. We can use that old shed again I guess." They slowly marched back towards it, reaching it just before nightfall. Even with her wound their pace was far faster than it was back in the thick forest.

"Unh." Tasket groaned heavily.

"This is going to hurt for days." She limped along carefully to avoid reopening the wide gash, but the gauze still looked pretty pathetic with the drying blood that seeped through it.

Ever so gently she removed the used gauze to inspect the wound. Tisket softly wrapped a fresh piece around it. The used piece was soaked right through with her life's essence.

"Ah, better. I need to immobilize this leg for the night so I don't accidentally yank it the wrong way while sleeping or something." Tisket bounded off, shortly returning with some solid sticks which they tied around the leg with a strap off one of the saddlebags.

"That was too exciting. Never seen one of those flying things or whatever that rockodile thing was either, especially up that close." Tasket gingerly put down the sheet again, favoring her injured leg.

"Yeah, I kept a small piece of the wing I blew off, and a scale as evidence of our troubles." They were both tired and a bit dirty from their efforts.

"We have once again made the wastes a slightly safer place. At least we'll break even on this one. Just wish I didn't have to use up a grenade during that, those things are rare and expensive ya know." She gazed forlornly at the wall.

"Aww cheer up, we're only hurt a little and not dead, right? We even have a couple of legit bragging rights. This piece is going in my trophy collection." Tasket groaned.

"Thanks for reminding me of that weird collection of yours. Do you really need to keep a souvenir of everything we do?" Tisket's collection was probably one of a kind, containing all sorts of things picked up during their outings from an empty energy shell casing to rocks he once threw at a radroach nest.

"You keep the strangest things Tisket. You have a veritable museum of curiosities by now. You could retire and charge admission." Tasket knew neither of them would likely live long enough to consider old age ever being a factor, but it was nice to dream. Besides, adventure was in their blood.

"Retire, Sis? Ha Ha. Nopony retires in the wasteland. No Pony. Anyway, I couldn't stand it. So boring. I'd climb the walls." He did not know in that moment how close he sounded to a particular mare that once said something similar.

"Besides, who can afford that? Not that many places I would like to spend the rest of my life anyway. How about you?" A very far away and very unexpected explosion lit the night sky outside for a half moment before fading, interrupting their conversation.

"What in pony hell was that, Sis?" She blinked in confusion.

"Manehatten, that blast came from its general direction. Must have been quite a pop, whatever it was. Guess somepony else is having some fun tonight. Too far away to matter to us." She shook her head.

"Aww, and here we are missing out." Tisket grumbled.

"Really, nearly being crushed and torn apart by bloodwings, not to mention almost being eaten by an overgrown lizard wasn't fun enough for you?" Though he put on a brave front, such firepower as was employed was something even they would hesitate to face.

"Like I was saying, I need a break for a few days. We'll pick up our reward in the morning and make a beeline for camp at as much pace as I can manage, we can be there in three days or less, agreed?" She gave him a little nuzzle.

"Yeah, sure. I know we have been going for a long while now. Umm, Tasket?" The way he was looking at her made it clear he had a serious question to ask.

"What is it, Tiskey?" She gazed at him.

"You and I both know how our lives will end, right?" It was a serious question. Tasket gave a slow shallow bob of her head.

"I try not to think about it, but we are mercenaries after all. Guns for hire. Live fast, maybe make a bundle in the middle and die hard. You know, I'm actually okay with that." Tiskets eyes glinted slightly in the dim light.

"So, you really do want to go out like our parents did then?" She looked off dreamily.

"I'm fine with it. They were trying to accomplish something much bigger. I don't know who or what set them on that course but I agree with the idea. If we can make a big enough impact on the world in the right way then I am all for it." Tasket closed her eyes a moment.

"Tiskey, you know it will likely amount to nothing. Even if nopony knows it but us, our parents were heroes for what they were trying to do. Just remember, no one gets to be a hero just by wanting to be one. That said, I do like the idea of being real heroes. Just like them." She rubbed her face. Getting teary-eyed was not usual for her.

"Time for sleep, I'm pretty tired after that. If you are on the same page, we will talk more about this back at camp, okay?" She said while stifling a yawn.

"I am, Sis. I truly am. I really really needed to hear what you thought." Neither of them could know the explosion that night signified something that would come to directly affect their fates.

"You gonna be alright for the night, Sis?" He looked concerned.

"I'll be fine, it just stings now. I hate that so much. Why couldn't I have been shot cleanly through instead.." She grumbled.

"Never thought I would hear you complaining about not being shot." Tisket giggled.

"Oh, shut up and get some rest." They turned in for the night. Tasket now suffered particular difficulty actually falling asleep thanks to her aching leg. The minutes dragged by slowly, leading up to no passing hours.

Her occasionally twinging leg kept rousing her from near-sleep. Quietly, she moaned in frustration. After a long time of this cycle of sleep and wakefulness, exhaustion took over to grant her the sweet release of dreams and freedom from pain. It was not the most restful sleep, but a far cry from the drawdown of endurance inflicted on those unlucky enough to suffer through the slow healing of such a serious injury during wakefulness. What they for decades came to call dawn broke. Tasket struggled to remain asleep a while longer, it was useless. It did not hurt quite as much now that some time passed, allowing for her leg to heal some. It would still be slow going. A wrong move or slip could easily reopen the wound.

Grindingly the two worked their way back towards the tiny settlement. It was not really close to where Fillydelphia once lay, but near enough to possibly be considered within the reach of the once bustling city. The huge city once held an enormous population of ponies. Now as with everything else it sat wasted and torn to ruin. In the distance crumbling shells of buildings once full of life lay tilted and somehow sickly to see. Few would dare brave heading into the central region for fear of who, or what may now reside there. An unexpected chance encounter was often enough to end those who were unwary.

"So, by my count that is no less than three separate threats we took out. I doubt the residents have more to spare than the caps already on offer so I am going to insist they owe us some other way. Never hurts to have a favor on call, does it Tiskey?" Tasket would be hobbling along for at least a another two or three days, which would mean not reaching base camp for half a week or more.

"Oh yeah, someone owing us a favor for a change sounds sweet!" Tisket could hardly stand the slow pace of travel, but even he was wise enough not to separate unless absolutely necessary.

Splitting up would mean halving their remaining firepower and lower their chances of survival should anything else come up.

"Who did that old wreck of a pony tell us to see if we were successful? Wasn't his name really weird, like Doormat or Faso, or something?" Tisket nodded. They approached a rundown building as nondescript as every other building in the area.

"That sure is an odd name. Oh well, it takes all sorts." Tasket was talking to herself to keep her mind off the nagging throbbing in her leg.

Tisket knocked on the thick wooden door. The door itself almost looked out of place. It was made of fairly solid wood and did not seem rotted or old as it should be. The knocking was answered by somepony calling out.

"One moment, please." Followed by a clattering din from within like hundreds of plates fell over all at once.

"Uh Tiskey, I think we better be careful." He voiced his agreement, then the heavy door swung inwards making a terrible squeal on the ancient hinges that barely held it to the frame, a hideous cacophony that could barely be called music drifted out from inside. Tasket would have covered her ears if she were not still hurting too much to make such a move.

"Oh my aching head." She finished saying, just as a tall blue unicorn stepped into the light from within. He wore a huge wide-brimmed purple hat with a feather atop it, it was adorned with all manner of glinting shiny bits and baubles. He wore a ridiculously oversize pair of slotted shades which covered half his face.

"Who seeks the great Doremifasolatido, master of all things music?" He spoke with pomp and flair. They noticed he was trailed by a long faded purple cape with what must have once been white trim.

"Uhh, we're here about the reward for the lake that we just cleared." Tasket generally did most of the speaking when dealing with others. Tisket used his vocabulary in the same way he used his weapons.

"The lake, so many have come before..me, and claimed..to have done that impossible mission, seeking reward ill-deserved!....wait, did you say you cleared it!?" His manner of speaking kept going in and out of a halting, irritating manner.

"You dare come to me and claim the impossible! Off with..." Tisket pulled open a saddlebag to bring out the piece of wing they procured along with the large scale and toy. Tasket also pointed to her injury.

"You've..done it...you've done it! Oh...joy of joy..such joyous rapture, the lake is safe?" He still seemed incredulous, but beginning to accept the fact.

"We can only say the area seems safe. You will have to find somepony who can tell you if this water sample is drinkable." Tasket set the bottle down.

"Say, have you seen anything suspicious around here lately?" It could not hurt to ask.

"Not..a thing. They say...strange things..are happening way over in Fillydelphia itself. Not my..business." Tisket and Tasket shot each other a questioning glance. There seemed no point pressing further. Tisket chimed in.

"Anything else we can do for you?" Tasket sighed.

"Let me..go...check." He slipped back inside for a long moment before returning.

"There might be something at a later date. You have proven..yourselves...most skillful." He seemed to be gazing past them rather than at them.

"Uh, sir?" He blinked.

"Oh, oh yes." He mumbled.

"You have done us a great service..and...well deserve....these caps long set aside...for..somepony such as yourselves." His speech pattern left them both rather annoyed feeling. He brought out a box containing the promised 500 caps.

"Whilst we are quite grateful for the reward, I must point out we were informed there was only one threat." She pointed at her leg again.

"I will..tell the..local residents and...inform the few merchants in the area that you are indeed friends of..us all and should be given...the fairest of treatment." Tasket was becoming ever more annoyed looking. She would not ruin a chance to build up and spread their reputation.

"Now I, Doremifasolatido must return to my creative works! Your success has inspired me to reach new heights." With that he turned and went to trot inside, tripping over his cape and tumbling in through the door.

"Umm, oh ah yes..uh good day." He hurriedly closed the door.

"By my mane, Tasket! what the hay was up with him?" She shook her head at his question.

"I don't wanna know Tiskey. I just don't want to know." She huffed.

"Now that is out of the way, let's head for camp. I'm gonna be laid up for a while once we do get there." She sighed. Though she hated to admit it, even she couldn't remain still for too long before climbing the walls. Tasket supposed they got it from their parents. They never seemed able to stay still for long either.

They managed to remain close to them, love them, teach them and keep them safe just long enough for both to grow up before heading out on what they both now assumed was their final foray into the unknown of the furthest wastes. The day they realized their parents would likely never return was a harsh blow. Even knowing what could await one outside the confines of the old merc camp, it stung. Their parents somehow managed to be exemplary role models despite living in the harsh reality that now comprised the wastelands. Having some set of values to aspire to, any truly good set was rare. The pair felt some sense of pride in this. Though any values here were most definitely skewed, Tasket reasoned as long as they tried to do the right thing it would have to suffice.

They walked past the scattered remains of a skycart that likely crashed over a century ago. The thought that two living ponies were knocked out of the sky was one they tried not to consider too closely. They also tried not to consider how many ponies actually died during the war and after. The number was a thing of legend and mind-numbing to contemplate. Though obtaining their reward raised Tasket's spirit considerably, she was still in a great deal of pain. Tisket underestimated how deep the cut was. It would likely take her a full week or more to recover properly. Still, she realized how lucky she was not to have been hurt worse or lost a leg.

Because of this she arrived at the decision to obtain some form of appropriate leg protection from the armor crafter back at camp. A haggard old griffon that went by the name of Blite. As far as she knew he was the only armorer around. She looked off, lost in thought. They would be sleeping outside for the next few days. Limping along, she really could not decide precisely what would be an appropriate design for leg armor. The thought struck her that perhaps she could have the armorer devise something that draped off from the center of her back, only covering the outsides of her legs. Perhaps ending with some kind of place holding attachment just before her hooves.

She truly hated confining and restrictive clothing. Full armor would be worse than the time her mother made her try on an old dress. She despised the things. Why ponies ever wore clothes at all, she simply could not fathom. Somepony once told her that ponies used to hold large gatherings where all the ponies would wear immaculate, ornate clothes of such fanciful richness and decadence that it boggled the mind to see it. She could barely stand wearing one layer of clothing, let alone two or even more. Tasket shuddered at the thought of being so constrained. The pair took great pains to ensure nopony saw the direction in which they headed. They were consummate professionals, always cautious.

For 500 caps some ponies might delude themselves into thinking they could take it from them by force. Killing the innocent was not in their purview. They were not however above defending themselves. Innocence being a highly subjective thing in the wastelands, they would do what was necessary. Both Tisket and Tasket realized they thus far in life were far more fortunate than many of the other inhabitants. They were also blessed with parents that actually cared enough to give them as decent an upbringing as was possible in such a world. Their parents told them all the old stories, the wondrous things ponies and to a lesser degree, griffons, created long ago.

The evidence these stories were based in fact lay all around them in the ancient structures and occasional technology that was found. Some of it even still functioned. This alone made the wastes a more dangerous place to explore and live in. Her injury would not allow Tasket to reach more than a slow trot, anything more would risk opening it again. Nonetheless they were making good time back towards camp. She could hardly wait to reach the safety of its walls, and her bed waiting within. The small base itself was established far to the north of Manehatten. It finished construction halfway through the war as a griffon mustering and offloading point. During that time it doubled as a supply and maintenance center.

Griffon design weapons, armor and the like were generally unavailable, which led them to adapt pony weaponry for their use. Now the small base housed only a few descendants of the griffons stationed there. Once the war ended they chose not to attempt returning to their homeland. At that time, travel of such distance would have proven only suicidal. The trip might be feasible now, but those here never went to the griffon lands. This was home.

"Tisket, when we get back I'm gonna look into some leg protection. Before you pipe up about how I said I don't wear barding, I said leg protection. Nothing else. I don't even want to wear that, but this incident made me feel a bit more vulnerable than usual." Tisket set about making camp for the night.

It was much safer in this area being within the general vicinity of the merc camp, but still a good idea to exercise care in ones decisions. Many a careless sort found themselves in dire straights. Wildlife over time became twisted distorted things through exposure to the seemingly random effects of leftover balefire radiation, amongst other things and wandered far.

"Another night in the wild, Tisket. I so need my bed." Tisket nodded.

"I do happen to like my bed as well, Tasket." She snerked.

"Could never tell. You don't ever seem to relax." He set down his bags and weapons.

"Oh, I just get bored easily. You kinda do as well. I know." There was no choice but to agree. Near dark on the fourth day they were finally approaching the old base. It was mostly intact thanks to having been so far from any significant blast, balefire or otherwise. It also did not suffer being targeted by raiders, steel rangers or any of the other assorted and still warring factions by this same virtue of distance. It was largely left forgotten until once again becoming a mercenary station. The defensive walls and a few mounted blaster cannons were refitted and re-energized over time. Spare parts were acquired and brought in occasionally.

Actually attacking it now would prove an expensive and deadly endeavor for anything short of a large well equipped army. No force of that size still existed as far as most ponies knew. Two missions both offering a grand reward for completion of either perpetually remained on the posting board. One asked for a fusing relay or compatible technology to bring the main cannon up to power. When they tried powering it up five years ago the huge cannon simply spun around on its enormous mounting ring, grinding to a halt as the ancient relay blew out. Griffons never did anything halfway. During the war they were mercenaries and were so still. Even a mere supply base was completely outfitted.

The oversized coastal defense cannon was never fired during or after the war. The base was just large enough to house a full wing of 11 griffons which now lived within the base confines, plus a few boarders here and there. Tisket and Tasket earned just enough of a reputation to rent quarters on a continual basis. The other ever-present mission should be easier to fulfill. As yet nopony could manage to find a way to unjam the main gates hefty mechanism. This left the gate wide open and the base far more vulnerable than it should be. It was jammed open this way since the war ended. Though the bases heavy defensive turrets were formidable in and of themselves, these two serious deficiencies were something the resident griffons were always complaining about.

An unusually buff griffon stood guard at the gate. His feathers were black as night itself, his hindquarters as well, lending to his imposing stature. He recognized the pair immediately, waving them past.

"I'll get ta tellin cap yaor back. Ya've been gone a good while. Ye look pretty beat up too." He intoned gruffly. The heavily muscled griffon pressed an intercom button recessed into the side of the gate. The familiar walls were a most welcome sight. The base itself consisted only of a few scattered buildings inside. A barracks and a command structure under the cannon, plus a small solar power collector were the only things of any importance. All looked extremely worn.

A couple utility and ammo storage sheds were the only other things of note. The armorer was off at a work table fiddling with an energy rifle, his personal weapon. For the most part the independent griffons here were well armed, if nothing else. This group desired no direct connection to other talons operating in the wastes, relying mostly on themselves. The base seemed to have been designed with expansion in mind, but nothing was added to it. As Tasket looked about she stopped in her tracks. Tisket shot her a sidelong glance and stared at a sight never seen here: she caught sight of the tail end of an armored pony wearing strange completely blackened power armor as he walked off into the barracks.

"Who in Equestria was that, and whats a fricken steel ranger doing here, why wasn't he vaporized on sight?" Tasket asked the guard.

"Dunnae. Ee said his name be Down Range or somesuch. Just shawd up one day wit' a bunch'o'caps begging for lodging. We gav'im ol' Gretchen's room, bless her poor dead heart. Never shows his face, keeps to himself. Pays 'is rent. Good'n'uff." He shrugged and flicked his tail.

"Even detached 'is weapons ta store as part'o'the deal. Oh, ah'n welcome back." The welcome seemed cold.

"Yeah right, Arascain. We all know you griffs just care for the caps we pay for our rooms." Tasket made a duck face.
"Ahck, off wit' ye." With that the the guard turned away. The duo made their way into the barracks, wearily heading to their rooms. The main room was just racks of steel bunk beds. Griffons were used to sleeping stacked up like this. Ponies tended to avoid upper bunks for obvious reasons of practicality. They were fortunate enough to secure two of the four side rooms for their own use.

"Tisket, I am heading to the showers. I need a good soak after all this time." The base housed a mini water talisman obtained during a serious confrontation many years ago.

Normally this object would have made the base a target, but it was damaged in the fight over it. It really only provided enough clean water from the makeshift oceanic intakes for those living here. It was damaged further over those years by the strain of purifying heavily contaminated ocean water. Locating a replacement was unlikely. It ran only on borrowed time. If it did fail, the small water tower would only have enough remaining for a few days at most.

"Alright, Sis. I'll go buy our usual ammo loadouts?" Tasket looked back and nodded, heading off into the showers. The showers did not have temperature controls. It was always lukewarm.

The spraying water felt wonderfully refreshing and invigorating. Each denizen would only get a ten minute allotment per week to save wear on the talisman. Nonetheless this was heavenly. She did not plan on doing anything strenuous for most of the week anyway, using up all ten. Feeling so much better she headed for her room and sprawled out on the compact bed. They were not mattresses so much as thick pads of some spongy material. So much more comfortable than she felt in weeks she quickly fell into a deep and dreamless slumber. Awaking the next day feeling much better she slowly walked out the door and across the open area to the command room. The captain would probably want to see her.

She was simply too tired the day before. One of the few other pony boarders was in the room with the captain. Tasket could not help but overhear as she approached.

"Cap, I tell you it's him!" The captain was an unusually small griffon. His stature was terrifically deceiving. The jagged scar across his chest where no feathers grew out was testament to this. Any that ever tangled with him found themselves facing a whirling ball of slashing explosive rage.

"You and your obsessions are amusing, but it cannot be him." The captain responded.

A very average-sized red-coated earth pony shook his head vigorously.

"It's him, it is I swear. I saw his face when he went in the lavatory!" The captain pointed at him.

"Are you telling me you watch ponies relieving themselves, Tanner?" The ponies face somehow seemed to turn even more red.

"N..no!" The small white and yellow feathered griffon twitched his tail. The ponies eyes having gone wide with embarrassment decided to leave it be, quickly exiting.

Tasket's leg was beginning to itch, though this was a very good sign, it was annoying her to no end.

"Haya cap, what was that all about?" The captain looked at her crossly.

"You." Tasket knew this game, he was only toying with her. She decided to play along.

"All about me? Why, I am so very flattered you would keep me so near and dear to your heart. You old blackguard." The captain burst into a deep rumble of a laugh.

"You can read me like a book, can't you Tasket?" She smiled at him.

He was a more friendly sort than many of the griffons she ever met, but knew better than to get on his bad side.

"You and your brother are some of the only truly serious pony mercs I have ever seen. We'll make griffons of you yet." He motioned for her to come closer.

"I would rather you didn't, cap..it sounds kind of unpleasant, and painful." She moved up in front of the desk he was sitting behind.

"Hah! I see you have a new battle scar. Wear it with pride" He gazed at her leg.

"Yeah, about that.. I would like your permission to request a special from the armorer." Her injury would be hurting for days.

"You, armor? That's a new one. Didn't you say you would never wear any?" His gaze upon her was very attentive.

"It's not like that cap, just something light for the legs. Our last excursion proved a little more than our usual fare." He nodded.

"Alright, you have my permission to make the request. Now, I do have another matter to discuss with you." This was unusual.

"Don't suppose you know Gunnar?" It was difficult not to know all of the griffons by name here, but she did not really know him in any way.

"Not really. What's up, cap?" This got her quite curious.

"I know you two have been looking for a big payoff for a long while. Interested in taking on a serious job?" His gaze became very intense, almost glaring.

"How serious, sir?" Was all she could think to say.

"Normally I wouldn't do this, Tasket. I have a request to make of you." She blinked at this.

"The reason Gunnar has always kept to himself is because the talon company he was formerly part of got themselves completely wiped out during the execution of their last contract. He was the sole survivor. On either side." His eyes betrayed a look of sadness she never saw before.

"That company followed a tradition. I do not necessarily agree with it, but it is his decision." The captain almost seemed to be on the verge of tears. This could not be good, but she sensed opportunity.

"I wish to commission you and your brother to escort him to the Badlands." Her heart skipped a beat.

"Wait..but that is..." he was already nodding.

"Cap, that's fifteen hundred miles from here. One way, if you could go in a straight line!" He chuckled at her response. It was always hard to read his mood.

"Yes, it is. Gunnar is getting older. The tradition was, if any of them managed to live long enough to start falling into decline he or she would try to head out into the Badlands. Their final mission and honor." He looked upset saying this.

She'd never heard of such a thing, it sounded crazy. Weren't there already enough ways to die, why head out on some ludicrous suicide mission? She held her tongue.

"As a matter of honoring his fallen company members, and as the last of them he feels it his duty to follow this tradition. It was all I could do to convince him to stay until I could find someone to escort him." She was hesitant, this was a huge undertaking he was asking of them.

"Why doesn't he just fly straight for it, cap? It sounds important to him." He stretched his own wings one at a time.

"Aside from the danger, he can barely fly. His wings were badly torn up in that fight. Lucky he still has them at all. He has been with our outfit almost fifteen years since. I will sorely miss him." He waited for an answer.

"Let me talk this over with Tisket before accepting. I also need a few days to heal up. Okay, cap?" She felt a little nervous about this.

"I think I can keep Gunnar from going off on his own for a while yet. Don't take too long to decide. I don't like it, but I do want to help him fulfill his mission. We would do it, but we are all tied to contracts ourselves currently." He paused.

"Isn't he tied to a contract then?" Perhaps she shouldn't have asked. Why would he be the only exception? The griffons here did not follow precisely the same rules as the rest, but still.

"Ever since then he has only assisted us or other griffons in carrying out or obtaining contracts for themselves. I can understand him not wanting to take one. The damage to his wings also makes him less of a deal on his own." That seemed to make sense.

"He is also very good at spotting a bad contract. After the mess their commander got them into he has tried very hard to steer us towards good deals." He took a deep breath.

"Even when we thought he was wrong. We quickly found out he is never wrong when it comes to a bad one. To be clear, he is only the third in that talon to live this long. If it were not for these things I wouldn't allow it." Reaching under the desk he pulled out a bottle of alcohol. It was very rare.

"To ease your pain." He poured a quarter glass, shoving it over to her.

"Cap, you don't have.." Shushing her he slid it over.

"Consider it a promise of reward." She rarely got anything this good. It was worth the burning sensation.

"Thanks, cap" She finished it off.

"Speaking of contracts, some of them are new or up for renewal and renegotiation. I better have Gunnar check them over before he really does go. Now, out." Tasket knew better than to hang around. Going back towards her quarters she noticed a pony trying to peek into one of the side rooms as the door closed. It was the red one from earlier.

"Hi!" He nearly jumped straight in the air at the sound of her voice.

"Don't sneak up on ponies like that! I almost bucked you right in the face." He said. She snorted.

"Ya look more like you almost wet yourself." His face once again seemed to take on an even redder sheen.

"Ahem. I am trying to convince somepony, anypony, I know who that mysterious armor wearing stallion is. No one will listen to me!" He looked like he was quivering.

"Calm down. Tanner, was it?" A quick nod and she continued.

"We already know his name, so what are you going on about?" Shaking his head so hard the rest of him was shaking, he turned.

"Come with me." He motioned her to follow. Curiosity got the better of her. Following into his room she saw him opening a small locker.

"I saw his face for a second. He does take off that armor when he thinks nopony is around." Tanner produced an ancient comic from within the locker. Setting it on the small bed he gingerly opened the pages to reveal 'Adventures of Magnificent Vol. 7. The Reins of Castamare'. He pointed a hoof at the face.

"Him, him!" Tasket frowned at this odd insistence.

"Let me get this straight. You're trying to tell me some fictional pony from who knows how long ago is somehow walking around here. You hit your head really hard recently or somethin?" Tanner gave an exasperated sigh.

"I adore this comic. I have a collection of things like it and know this one by heart. I know that face I tell you." Hmm.

"Tanner, why don't you just ask him?" Delicately he put the comic back in the locker and nudged it closed.

"He won't talk to anypony. I know how this sounds. Go on, just call me nuts like everyone else." He really was serious.

"No worse than another." Tasket was already regretting following.

"Alright, look. Even if it isn't him, he is not a steel ranger." He meant it. She tossed him a questioning glance.

"Don't tell anyone about this. I saw him once before, a few weeks before he got here. Over near Manehatten." Tasket was truly beginning to question this ponies sanity.

"He did something I thought suicidal. From a distance I saw him approached by two rangers. You know how they are about their stuff.." She just bobbed her head.

"They asked him to identify himself. I could not make out what he said. Then things got all wild." This was not sounding good. Was he a rogue ranger or something even more dangerous?

"They ordered him to remove his armor, but..." Tasket tapped the floor impatiently with a good hoof.

"He ordered them to walk away backwards or face Tragedy. He also said something about them not wanting to learn what true pain is." How odd was all that?

"Well, what then?" This was actually getting a bit interesting.

"They DID, both of them just walked away...backwards." This pony could be real trouble.

"All I can do is wish you good luck with that. I have stuff to do." Tanner looked particularly dejected.

"Uhg. Come on, don't look like that. Tell ya what, I'll look into it right now." His eyes went wide.

"No, wait." He said, too late to stop her as she went out across to the mystery ponies door and knocked heavily. A thudding heavy stepping sound was heard as he cracked open the door to reveal his helmeted head. She couldn't help but notice the horn-shaped protrusion atop it.

"I am terribly sorry to bother you, but are you Magnificent?" A wailing horrified sounding wail was heard from within the helmet as the door slammed in her face.

"Well, that did not go as expected." Tanner was just standing there staring.

"Are you crazy?" Tanner looked horrified. Tasket shrugged, walking off to find her brother. The stunned red pony stood there with his eyes wide for a long moment before shuffling off to his room once more. A few moments later she located Tisket outside under a lean-to looking over the most expensive weapons for sale here.

Sabine, a continually shocked looking and absolutely average female griffon behind the display would normally just glare at them, but through long association became so used to their perusing she paid little mind.

"Always imagining buying things we can't afford, Tisket?" He frowned at her question.

"Can't you let me dream, Sis?" She smiled at him widely.

"Want a real dream, Tisket?" Turning to face her directly he was very surprised to see her smile. She was not usually so happy seeming.

"Are you alright, Tasket?" Poking him in the ribs like she sometimes did got his full attention. She motioned for him to follow her over to a weathered table where they could talk.

"I have something to tell you. I know you'll be excited, but we need to think long and hard about it." Now that got his attention.

"The captain has offered us an enormous one-time contract. Do stop drooling, Tisket. It is a very dangerous, very difficult mission." She looked him in the eyes.

Tasket explained the specifics, letting the real scope of the request sink in a bit.

"Oh, wow oh wow oh wow." Tisket's eyes were practically popping out of his head.

"Focus. This is serious. Probably the most serious thing we have ever been asked to do. The question is, do we really want to take it on? Especially since..." She trailed off. He shut his eyes tightly, obviously thinking very deeply about it.

"This could be our one big chance to shine, Sis. Let's do it." Tasket knew this was his likely reply.

"It could also be our ticket to being very very dead." It really may be the one chance they would ever get.

Neither of them ever made such an obviously life threatening decision before.

"If we are agreed I will tell cap we can set out in three days." She waited. Tisket was enthusiastic, but clearly considering this one.

"Tasket, we both know what will happen if we don't do something soon..." His voice trembled slightly.

"Shh. Don't talk about it. We will go." She left the table. The next morning they informed the captain. He was ecstatic hearing of their agreement.

He would actually be able to keep Gunnar from leaving for a few days with the promised escort.

"This is a great relief for me, you two." He usually did not speak so informally, especially to non-griffons.

"You seem to be healing up quickly, but are you certain you will be up to setting out in three days?" Tasket nodded.

"Good. I could not stand the thought of Gunnar trying to make it all by himself. I know how tough he is, but I want him to have a real chance of completing his mission. Do not disappoint me." The pair made their way back to the barracks common room. Griffons called the bunks an aery, having no qualms about the arrangement. Ponies were slightly more solitary.

"Get as much sleep as possible, Tisket. We have such a long lonesome road ahead." For once he simply agreed with his sister. The following two days were nearly agonizingly slow. Tisket was having an especially hard time containing his enthusiasm. Only once in that time did either see the armored pony anywhere, did he simply never come out of his room? Tanner seemed to be nowhere around either. Eventually the morning of their departure arrived. They were waiting in the command room for Gunnar to come in. Tisket was speaking to the captain.

"Cap, in the excitement of the moment I forgot to mention something." His harsh gaze betrayed his mood.

"It better not be something that will affect your ability to carry this out." She quickly continued as he said this.

"Oh, no cap. Just we cleared around that lake way off to the southwest of here. Don't know if the water is any good, but I figured you should know. I forgot with my injury and all." Hard to read as ever.

"That is a welcome tidbit. Which is a good reason for me to give you these." He opened a case. "500 caps for expenses."
He set a box down heavily. This was a welcome surprise.

"Get this right, both of you." Gunnar stepped into the room right after this was said.

Immediately a tense sense of meeting and parting settled. He was a fairly large griffon, a couple feathers protruded atop his head like antennae. His once golden coloring seemed faded, but still striking. His wings hung at odd opposing angles. Each foot was colored black. His very presence carried an air of power and quiet authority almost overwhelming the captain's own.

"These two?" His voice was deep. One could almost describe it as thunderous. This was not a griffon to be trifled with. He looked them over, his gaze felt like it penetrated straight through them.

"They will have to do." The captain stood and offered a farewell to his longtime second.

"I would wish you good luck, but you won't be needing it..will you?" Gunnar gave a respectful final salute, the captain reciprocated.

"Goodbye, captain." Anything else these two already said to each other years ago. He would say nothing more, slipping towards the exit.

"Whatever it takes, get him there, though it means his life. Complete this mission and return." They both gave a quick salute as well before turning to leave.

"Well..we're in it now, Tiskey." They looked the part on the outside. Tough. Focused. Inside they were both happy as could be for a chance to well and truly prove their mettle. Meeting Gunnar at the main gate they found all the currently present griffons alighted atop the walls in salute to their brother in arms, each wearing impressive full battle gear. It was a tremendously rare and imposing sight. Taking only one good look around he returned the salute, then turned to march out. From a myriad of weapons each of them fired a single shot straight into the air. A loud celebratory cheer went up as they joined him, setting out on their journey.

A steely shadow in the dark very far away gave rise to enabling a twisted desire's fruition.

Darkness

A very long time ago:

"Just kill me already." The stallion was chained to a wall in some dim place. His body was bruised, battered and worn. After somehow managing to harass zebra forces for an entire month on his own from the hills he was finally cornered by some cackling example of their kind.

"It is what you and your kind do, isn't it?" He groaned. His request was met with a kick to the stomach just strong enough to knock the wind out of him. He was almost too exhausted to even grunt in response. He expected a quick death, especially after all the damage he'd managed to inflict on his lonesome.

The zebra tormentor never lowered their cloak, never speaking at all. Instead he simply performed all manner of hideous experiments upon his prisoner.

"You will get nothing out of me, you twisted stripe!" The cloaked zebra merely pulled out a syringe full of some strange vile black liquid, promptly jamming it into his chest and pressing the plunger. He moaned through the pain.

"Why are you doing this? What are you pumping into me!?" It was the third time in as many days. The size of the injections were increasing over time. There was no real sense of the passing of time in here. How long was he in here?

Perhaps it was time to take a different approach.

"Why? Just tell me why.." The cloaked figure turned towards a table covered in all sorts of tubes, vials, beakers and mixers. A large tome sat there. The zebra occasionally turned a page within. He dumped one bowl into another causing a puff of acrid smoke to pour forth. The stallion choked on it. His captor did not even seem to notice. The silent figure picked up a pestle, beginning to grind more unknown things which smelled terrible in a mortar. Finally the choking subsided as the smoke cleared. Each day the torment was different.

Some seemingly random thing was done to him every waking moment, even when he was not awake. Fainting from lack of food and water was becoming common. Sometimes he would dream, more often he would have nightmares. He once was told one of the princesses could sometimes sense when a pony suffered them. Where was she now then, surely this was enough to notice? His dreams were becoming absolutely horrific. The chains which bound the stallion cut into his legs, his neck and midriff. Every moment was becoming pure agony. Why didn't he die?

"Princess..princess..please help me..please hear me..help me..." He found himself mumbling under his breath sometimes.

The words drew a wicked snicker from the horrible zebra holding him here. This place felt wrong. He felt wrong. The world came into focus and receded again. Each time it faded he hoped would be the last. It never was. Occasionally the zebra would force the smallest bits of food down his throat or water completely without prompting. It was just enough to keep him alive. He did not have the strength left to resist. Sometimes a flicker of will would ignite itself in his tortured mind.

"Let me die, let me die you sick freak!" This only elicited echoing laughter that came from everywhere at once.

"Huh?" What was happening? The dark place swam and swirled, only to drop to empty silence once more.

The zebra scrawled something in the book. His eyes flew open and he twitched. Where was he? The whole world was pain. No other thought passed as he languished in this cold void of a place. Streaming lights flashed in his vision as he writhed. It felt as if a red hot poker was shoved into his gut. Desperately he tried to force himself to faint, to die, anything to escape the burning pain. It would not end. He screamed, yanking the chains for uncountable moments until it finally subsided. Coughing once more he was let the sweet release of sleep. He was not aware of the amount of time passing in the haze of misery. It must have been days. Weeks?

Barely able to remember a world of love and light long lost, his awareness slowly returned yet again.

"No.." He sputtered. Awaking only to this endless torture was breaking not only his body, but his mind as well. He was cognizant of this and fighting bitterly inside to retain some semblance of sanity. He could barely see in the dim light. He could tell he was becoming seriously dehydrated and malnourished. Along with the injuries from the cutting manacles he was in truly critical condition. Surely he would slip from life soon? In fits of recognition of his predicament he was both impressed he lasted this long, and yet wishing it would finally end.

In one of his more lucid moments he spoke to the source of his agony.

"You, stripe..what do you have to gain from this? You must know by now I have nothing I can even tell you." The sinister laughter it drew was even more dark than before. The sound was cold, devoid of reason or real emotion. What was this zebra? He seemed more like one of the bedtime stories of horrors sent to Tartarus. Surely he could not be something used to scare little foals into being good come to life. His presence certainly felt like no living thing. A far off clanging alarm was raised.

Yelling outside this prison of pain in some language he did not know brought his attention to focus for the briefest of moments. For once the zebra spoke.

"It would seem our time is at an end." The voice was like listening to something being dragged across a chalkboard: horrible, vile and enthralling at the same time. He opened a lock box covered in subtly glowing black runes. The chained stallion's eyes went wide. A humming crystal rose from it, streams of purple and black energy held it above the box. He watched in morbid fascination as it floated there.

The air took on a disgusting tinged hue. He could feel the wickedness and power this impossible thing contained. It hovered there as a white hot beam of light shot out of it, stabbing into the stallion's chest.

"No!" The screams of horror and pain which followed dwarfed any which had come before.

What hovers in that lonely pitch betwixt the walls of the world?

Plinth

The young zebra was hungry and cold. She was always hungry and cold. All of them were. This place was secluded and easily overlooked which is exactly why they stayed here. The community was small, but thriving. Her mother desperately tried to teach her what she needed to survive, perhaps even to replace her someday. Her leadership saved them time after time. The young one really wanted no part of it. All she really desired was food. She wished she could run away run away from this painful world so full of cruelty and mistrust. If only there was anywhere she could run away to. There just wasn't. A zebra was not particularly trusted in the wastes. No one really was.

Perhaps griffons could be trusted to follow their exacting contracts, but a pegasus or zebra finding themselves alone out here was in an entirely different kind of trouble. No help would just happen to materialize.

"Darling dear I hate to say, there simply is no other way. Our food is not growing. Our water soon will not be flowing. We must find some other place to be going." Her mother and a ragtag band of their kin eked out a living in this desolate area far from ponies and their ilk. Their little hidden settlement sat near the edge of a huge inland swamp.

"There once was a trail heading northwest to a river we will now search for in stress. If its still there is anybody's guess." Hidden as they were there was no contact with the outside world. Fear of being discovered ruled the day, keeping them from venturing too far. Reluctantly they packed their meager belongings. A trip such as this was a frightening proposition to the young zebra and most of the others. There was no choice as the deep wellspring they relied on was now only barely providing water anyway. Water which was now turning a sickly pale yellow as it dwindled. The taste was becoming ever less palatable. Soon it would be impossible to drink or use in any way. The cause was completely unknown.

As much as she wished for things to change, this tiny village was the only home she knew. Having to leave here hurt in some way she could not quite describe. Before their supplies started to dwindle her mother was teaching her their tribes traditional fighting methods. For her young age she was nearly the same size as an adult. It was a strict discipline requiring sheer focus and timing. All of them would be having an easier time if there was only more food and water to go around. Keeping up the drills was tiring to the point of exhaustion without it. Her mother insisted anyway. She might have need of it soon. The group gathered around with their belongings. They loaded up on everything.

Wooden water flasks and whatever else seemed like it might be useful. All took a last lingering reluctant look back at their home. Far off to the east above the treetops a structure could just be made out. Ominous and foreboding. It was much farther away than it looked. No one here ever went far enough to reach it. Mountains to the south hemmed in their little encampment against the forest. It was as safe here as anywhere else. None ever left this place. For the last twenty years this forested mini paradise kept them secure from prying eyes, slavers or any of the endless list of dangers outside. Now there was absolutely no choice but to move on.

There were almost no weapons to speak of thanks to their long seclusion from the rest of the world, save for the odd sharpened wooden stick they kept prepared to ward off any wandering animal that might come across them. Even that did not happen very often. Their leader raised her voice.

"A town once built upon the road is where we must get, where ponies may live their lives out yet. If so, our passing may make them quite upset." Her words were fraught with distress and worry. Would ponies really be there? Would they let them pass? A fight was the last thing this little tribe wanted.

Slowly one by one they all turned away from their home. Tears welled in many of their eyes as they set out to face an unknown world, a world each fully expected to cause them even more suffering. Old tales told them ponies did not trust or treat their kind well, possibly with good reason. They could not really know. It was so long since any of them left this place. The only other option would be to try heading for the old zebra lands, but to pass that way would mean braving what looked to be an endless expanse which they may never find the end of. If there even was an end. For all they knew the zebra homeland could be entirely gone, wiped from the face of existence in retaliation over a war barely now within memory.

Almost everyone knew a vast war was why the world was now mired in all sorts of misery, but not the how or why. Even knowing these things would make little difference to most. This was the reality. The world ended in fire. Somehow life did not. Knowing only they must find a source of water, as well as a place to live was a disheartening prospect. They now numbered only around 20. Thirteen of their kin succumbed to various ailments as the water began to turn. Even their expert knowledge of plants and potions was useless. Fighting anyone would be a last resort they could not really afford. From here some travel to the west would be required before they could head northwards in earnest upon the ancient trail.

Now was the time to go, before there were no supplies left for the journey. It really was the only reasonable decision. Staying here would only lead to all of them dying. Straying farther from home than ever before instilled a cold fear of what lay ahead.

"I'm scared." She shook slightly. Her mother looked at her as they took a step beyond the long-time boundary.

"Be not afraid. Death may be inevitable, but it can be delayed." Forming a quiet line they walked off into the haze.

The pieces slowly taking the board to sing their song. Which moves will be right, and which will be wrong?

Crisis Dynamic

Once upon a time, it was formidable. Powerful. Peaceful. A glorious haven of light and love. All this, Equestria supposedly was. No longer. The once fantastically unimaginable array of small arms and heavy weapons, armor, tanks and flying vehicles, even robots never before envisioned until a massive war was thrust upon them had slowly become familiar, commonplace. The conflict driving ponies to research things they never needed before. Unicorns knowledgeable of battle magic were rare before the war, by the end there were many. Ceaselessly, perhaps carelessly, each side drew up ever more powerful combat units until a single encounter was potentially enough to cause massive casualties on either side, and still it did not end.

One division fared so badly during the latter stages of the war it would never have seen full strength again. This single tragedy played out against a catastrophic background of lesser tragedies. The scale would be almost comedic were it not for the sheer loss of life. As with many tragic things it started small, but like an avalanche started by a tiny snowball rolling downhill, these immeasurably insignificant things combined inexorably. For when the light falters, dark must fall. On the surface of things all was as it ever was. Ponies lived, played, danced, laughed..threw parties. They were joyless. All real happiness was slowly draining away under the constant pressure.

For some it was a great time to be alive, amassing their huge fortunes from the sidelines. Others did not fare nearly so well. Certain things were only spoken of in hushed whispers for fear of what might result if a single errant bit of information might be overheard by the wrong ears. Everypony knew something was wrong when the princess stopped sending out gala invitations. It only got worse from there. The downhill spiral into this unreasoned insanity was unstoppable. The quiet pall which hung over every conversation was taking its toll. What would happen next? Who else might silently go missing one day? These questions were the very sort of thing nopony dare ask lest one risk being the next poor soul to slip off to some unknown end, never to be heard from again.

Fear weighed down the populace. Those who knew nothing felt very secure. Ignorance is bliss. Know nothing and say nothing. It was once okay to know things. Now knowing those very same things could be a potential threat to your freedom or life. Equestria did have everything going for it. In the beginning it was merely a small squabble over coal. Nothing at all really. It'll be fine. This was a fabrication. A lie to sooth the masses. Soon enough it turned to a bloody fight over ideology and belief pushed to the forefront by some hidden agenda. Ponies were found willing to risk life and limb, ostensibly for the greater good. At what point does simple caution become paranoia? How does one look up one day only to find the sky tumbling down upon them?

The army which formed as hostilities escalated was by the end mostly hardened veterans able to take on all-comers. This war was finally ending. The unskilled and unlucky were long since gone. Many mowed down in their prime just because they were there. War once begun has a nasty habit of dragging on and on. It lays low both sides, depriving them of hope or security. The zebra war machine was inevitably faltering. Just as expected, but in a world slowly losing connection to sanity or reason only madness can follow. In the end leaders must find a way forward. Luna did not want to compromise or lose. Celestia could not bear to act and the opposing army refused any further attempt at negotiation, rebuffing all requests to talk.

Instead, they chose the flames rather than face defeat. Maybe it was cowardice. Maybe they just did not want to lose either. On this final day did the roots of evil somehow reach forth from that terrible intangible pit wherein it dwells to hold the world in iron grasp, only to find it could not hold on? Did it in finding such machinations already slipping away deem to unleash terror out of spite against all that is good? Or was it just that all power of good was finally sapped away by two decades of unyielding conflict? Whatever the case, the armies on the ground found themselves utterly alone. All would suffer. The pegasi lost their greatest city in an instant.

The princesses grand Canterlot shields which all thought impenetrable were raised against incoming showers of bombs and missiles only for the inhabitants to find themselves attacked by a hidden menace within them. Wicked bilious clouds of acidic pink smoke based in necromantic magic billowed forth across the capital. Because of this the shields were used as containment and held up as long as possible. To do otherwise would have meant flooding the countryside below with it. This day of endless tears could herald only further emptiness and pain. Unbeknownst to those who already closed off stable 1, this set off one plan of several which Scootaloo long ago enacted. Plans forged as a sort of revenge for the various ministries betrayal of public trust.

Today, ponies would look to their beautiful skies and see the final result of their folly. Seeing their long-awaited victory stolen from them. A great many wicked schemes were about to be undone at the same time as more would ultimately be born of this conflagration. Alarms having been raised one too many times in the past did not receive the quick attention they deserved, causing even more casualties. Confusion and chaos ruled the day. The fading light would soon lead only towards a grim and dark future. Having already made every possible mistake that could be made, how did it come to this? The very world itself torn from under their hooves in retribution for what looked to amount to nothing.

Few were prepared to meet their end. The war was by now so long-running there was practically a whole new generation of ponies being thrown into the meat grinder that is battle. Surely they would achieve victory soon. It could never come to something so horrific. They never entertained the possibility of defeat. Now their end was raining down upon them with swift finality. Failure to understand their enemies was a fault deeply engrained in them by nearly a thousand years of mostly uninterrupted peace. The golden age ended. In truth only about four of the great Stable-Tec stables were built entirely according to the original vision behind them. A result of yet more ministry interference.

Their legacy of social experimentation, manipulation and tragedy. Some of these experiments held great promise. Many more could have been deemed insanity in a gentler time. Seeking answers to questions should have been a good thing, but the ceaseless cycle of war forced all cards to be placed upon the table. By this time most ponies just wanted it to end, an end which was now upon them. Not as victory for either side. All warning about the sheer power of the weapons being developed fell on ears unwilling to listen. Through it all daily living also benefited, though improved greatly by the continuous research it felt hollow under the ever-present possibility of being drawn into the conflict.

On ministry walk two good friends were saying their final, tearful farewell. She could only muster enough power to teleport one of them to safety. Outside on a bench along the road a unicorn was sitting in a most peculiar way. She tried very hard before winding up here. She'd had enough, and waited. How she got there is a tale never told. Elsewhere a particularly pink pony was looking out at the incoming destruction. She almost saved the city. Almost does not count when the world is ending. She chose a faster way out. Some battles are forgotten. Fought on the sidelines or overshadowed by the greater conflict at large. How many fell to be remembered by no one, their names and deeds long lost to memory? Just unidentifiable hoofprints left in passing.

Near the beginning of this war names quickly became little more than statistics. Numbers on scroll to be perused then filed away in a neat little package. Little else. Such numbers make no hint of the families torn apart, their sadness and pain relegated to nothing more than scratches upon the parchment. It is just easier that way. All nice and tidy. During the conflict these list counts only grew ever larger. The litany of casualty reports rose until they were unending. If they did make mention of the true toll being taken it would surely have driven those reading them insane. These facts coupled with the quadrupled progress of industry slowly and surely forced the initiation of a secretive doctrine aimed solely at finding solutions to the social problems this presented.

Life was becoming hectic, fast, and far too short. Stress was something ponies barely knew before. Because of all this the need for psychological studies grew at a pace unrivaled. Just more little nudges in the wrong direction. All the lies, half-truths, secret projects and an altogether collapsing order led to a society which let itself be driven to the precipice by the horrors of war. Conflict did exist in Equestria before it all started. Nothing that warranted a standing army. The royal guard were generally sufficient barring certain extraordinary cases. During the course of the war most royal guard members were given the task of training up all the new recruits. Though some remained within Canterlot proper, many were shifted into the quickly evolving military.

Perhaps this was what brought about and allowed for the confusing string of orders that eventually resulted in the construction of the command stable labeled only as Infinity. No record of the construction was kept. The location hidden. The real purpose behind it buried under stacks upon stacks of paperwork. Even the construction crews were brought in blind. Just follow the plan. Everything is good. It would be a great bastion of hope secreted away, but literally hiding something under a mountain is no easy task. What it took to keep it a secret was on a scale defying believability. It was done anyway. They thought it entirely kept from prying eyes and ears. Not quite. On ran the tragedy train.

Amongst other things the Auton Initiative was given over to this place, only another project. Nothing special or so they said. The ultimate purpose of all these ongoing operations was a jumble even the figureheads of the ministries were often unaware of. It was very much the case the ministry mares were treated not as the leaders they were appointed to be but necessary burdens on their respective organizations, public faces to be kept out of the loop. Sometimes this was noticed. Sometimes it was ignored. The few times it was not ignored meant big trouble was coming down on anypony unlucky enough to be caught out. This particular project however was such a well-kept secret not one ministry pony was aware of it.

If the royalty knew they said nothing, leaving the military to its own devices. The royals often said little. The army though battle-hardened by this time was not very experienced in other matters. As the new army was built up the sole purpose in mind at the outset was defense, survival. Using them as an offensive force was far from any thought on the matter until much later. All told, letting them operate in this manner was another in the string of mistakes made and decisions poorly handled. One result: The Infinity stable. A secret military complex built under contract to Stable-Tec. They were good at keeping quiet. It was set deep into the north side of a mountain.

Here, another in this long line of tragedies was about to take place. Outside, nopony yet knew what was coming. To the sleepy little town all was normal. As it should be. Asleep in their beds. Secure in the knowledge the dawn would break as it always had. It was so quiet here, far from the front lines. Apart from anything that is war. The great war that must end soon. This place would not be necessary after all. The perfect place to offload all the unwanted leftovers when all was said and done. Some felt apprehensive about the idea behind this place, but we can all go home soon. It will be great when we can just bury it all here and forget about it.

Little did those saying such things realize how close to the truth this would soon become. Not in any way they imagined. Unlike some of the other stables built by Stable-Tec this place was to serve only the military. It would house and store everything nopony else wanted anymore. Supposedly that was one reason it was so large, and so secret. Under the major's strict direction it was built smoothly in record time. Not even any fatalities this time. The build crews learned quickly not to even try avoiding any scrutiny coming from him. The crews were pushed hard every day to the point some could not continue. The pace was backbreaking. Even the unicorns were burning out. The major drove each crew relentlessly.

Breaks were short and far between. Things that would normally have taken a full year were cut down to a mere 6 months. On this site nopony could really complain. He was given leave to do whatever was necessary to finish it as soon as possible. Nothing should be left to chance. Any conceivable shortcut was denied without hesitation. If he was going to oversee this job it would be done right. The very few times any of the crews attempted to skirt his orders regarding this quickly found themselves off the site permanently. No allowance would be made for anything outside of exacting. This drew both some criticism and some respect.

Due to the nature of the construction those working here were forced to agree never to speak of it after leaving or face serious repercussions. In this climate of information repression they could hardly argue. This also resulted in them demanding higher pay than was the norm. That was something that was conceded. Anything to get it done right. Alone inside the facility the major was just getting ready to finish up for the day. He was by himself in the command room as he alone was to enter the security codes for the new control systems. Sitting at the newly finished console within, the rather bored green-coated unicorn stallion bolted upright as it lit up and klaxons sounded.

"What in the world?" Right as he said this the intercom crackled.

"Major Bright Step, they've gone mad. Missiles are flying!" One of the guards reported. No. This could not be happening. Wake up. He could feel the adrenaline rushing at the words.

"Get everypony from town up in here, we can house 150." He quickly ordered. This complex was not intended as a shelter for general personnel, but what did it matter now? A few moments passed as he viewed the projected missile tracks. Most of them were heading straight for the capital, almost none of which were being intercepted successfully.

The spellfire counter-missiles some pinned their hopes on in case of such a situation were proving ludicrously inaccurate. The intercom gave off a burst of static. The communication system was a bit wonky still. The speaker came back in.

"We can't open any of the stable doors!" He whirled to the console instantly. The outer door lock lights were all lit. Hitting the intercom again he called for the door guards on the first floor. No answer.

"Door guard." Nothing.

"Anypony anywhere respond, open the doors!" Static. Surely more ponies were in here somewhere. No time. The Stable-Tec crew only finished with the final construction phase of this place two weeks prior. A maintenance and detailing team which should have been through already to iron out equipment issues was delayed in being dispatched for one reason or another. The other three consoles in this room covered various systems. Security robotics, maintenance, and life support consoles were set up in a ring around the command console.

If normal operations were underway other ponies would have been here with him. Not many were really assigned here yet. Most were not even inside.

"Why now of all times?" He poked at several controls on the maintenance console. A small army of maintenance bots should make quick work of getting the doors open again. The controls were unresponsive. An apprehensive feeling stole over him as tried to make anything at all do something. Everything was frozen.

"Oh my Celestia, give me strength." He found himself saying. He was losing valuable time with every fruitless action.

On a hunch he tried to activate the security bots. Nothing.

"Ahh." All this only took a moment. It felt like an eternity. Moving back he frantically jammed buttons on the main console. The override controls refused to disengage.

"Open, you piece of junk!" Nothing worked. Slamming it he turned. Tears streaming he ran from the command room into the elevator. Mashing the top floor button, it rose interminably slowly.

"Move, move. Why is everything in here working so badly?" The elevator never took this long before. Even when it was first constructed he was certain it was much faster than this.

He pounded his head on the elevator wall in frustration.

"Faster. Go faster, please..." He was already sweating from the building adrenaline and need to move. The shuddering elevator should have been at the top already.

"I'll get there in time, I'll get there in time." Go. Go. Go. This was intolerable. The elevator lurched upward at full speed only to slow down again. Something was very wrong, there was no way everything just stopped working right at the same time. Although the final team was not yet through to give everything a green light he'd been involved from the start since Stable-Tec did have a bit of a reputation for being slipshod in their work. Each individual system up until this very moment worked well enough.

Finally, the elevator doors swished open. Knowing something was so wrong he should have been more cautious. Time for those outside was ticking by. His hooves clacked off the flooring as he rushed down the hall at a gallop. The main door was in sight. Something brought him skidding to a halt. A bad feeling, an instinct. Then he noticed it. The faintest flickering shimmer off to the side caught his attention. Immediately he dove into a janitorial room as the hall lit up with a hail of bullets. A zebra spy that somehow escaped detection must be in here, now firing upon him. Did they have something to do with the controls malfunctioning?

There was no choice, he must get to the door right now or he would save no one. The very real increasing threat of spies meant every military member was ordered to keep their sidearms with them at all times. With no choice he floated his heavy caliber pistol out to the corner of the door, firing wildly in the general direction where the zebra was standing as he ran for the controls. A stray shot from the zebra automatic sliced through his right shoulder rendering his foreleg useless. It caused him to tumble into the door area, dropping his pistol back in the hall. If he could just get the main door open he would have help.

Striking an emergency panel plate caused two heavy prototype spark incinerator turrets to drop down out of the ceiling which tracked the I.D. badge hanging from his neck, then swiveled to point down the hall. These new turrets drew power directly from a conduit running straight down to the small reactor far below, and should prove more than a match should his assailant try to come after him. Hopefully the rest of the facility would also be locked down, giving the zebra almost nowhere to go. Were there more? Time is ticking. Now he could focus on getting the door open. Looking towards the door he saw the two guards necks were snapped.

No time to consider that as he fumbled at the main door manual controls. It made a deep rumbling sound, but did not budge.

"Why won't it open!?" He screamed in frustration. Looking up he could see everything appeared to be in order. The spy must have done something to the controls or mechanism, but what? Desperately he searched the gigantic screw-like drive that would push the door open. The small side-door controls were obviously rigged by the infiltrator in such a way it could not be opened, maybe even trapped. There was simply no time. Where could it be?

Every second passing was another that could not be spared. Once the base detectors began reading outside radiation of any sort not one of the four entrance doors timer locks could be bypassed. The idea struck that he could ask what the zebra did to them, but it was laughable. He knew by the time he could get a zebra spy to talk, if at all, it would be too late. There was nothing more he could do. The weight and reality of what was happening sank in upon him, and he cried in earnest despair. Reluctantly, quivering he reached for the external intercom button.

"Sergeant." It crackled for a moment. Finally a reply.

"Sir, why aren't the doors open?" A voice buzzed in. There was not much time left.

"A spy has disabled all the doors, possibly even the central elevation platform. I am seriously injured, and cannot open them. I am sorry, son." His voice strained with pain and sadness. The sputtering intercom went dead for a few seconds.

"I'm sure you did your best, sir. It has been an honor serving with you." The reply only made him choke up further.

"Good luck, sergeant." With that he hoisted a medical kit off the far wall. After bandaging himself up as best he was able he paused a moment to take a deep breath.

Hobbling over to the two poor souls laying there he gathered up both of their pistols. In a whisper he spoke under his breath.

"I am truly sorry, boys. You're probably better off. You won't be needing these anymore." Though bandaged, the pain was beginning to cut through as the adrenaline rush wore off. The zebra was suicidal anyway to have come here with balefire bombs, missiles and who knew what else now in the air flying back and forth. He or she would definitely prove a dangerous opponent. There might even be more than one. He knew the stories of their close-quarters fighting style.

Did this zebra even know what was happening outside, or care? Surely their leader must be insane to have ordered the certain destruction of the world. Were they all completely out of their minds? As he pondered this he readied the pistols. He would prefer his personal sidearm. Using the dead guards guns to take down their murderer would be suitably poetic. He knew his wound was serious, and would prove fatal. There were robots of a sort, but no medical bot provisioned here yet and no doctor. Without one to treat it, there could only be one outcome. Knowing they both were effectively dead already there was no real point in confronting the zebra, but having just ensured almost two hundred more would die he felt something in his heart. He wanted this zebra to suffer.

He was on the verge of promotion before this, and this facility was his expected command. He would take vengeance upon this intruder that helped end so many lives. Feeling an unfamiliar cold fury welling up inside him, he stepped into the hall. Nowhere to be seen. Naturally. Any zebra infiltrator would be an absolute master of stealth. Hovering both pistols in front aimed slightly to the sides he limped down the hall cautiously. Watching for any hint of the shimmering telltale sign his quarry was near. Peering into the supply closet as he passed, nothing. This made no sense. Where could the zebra have gone? He looked around to realize in his haste earlier he broke procedure, the elevator was not closed securely behind him.

This would make things much more difficult. The mechanical dial above stopped at floor 16. "Oh, no." He muttered as he strode into the elevator. There were turrets on every level that should hinder his opponents ability to move around freely, but he felt a sinking sensation in his gut. Why that floor? It held something rather important. How would any zebra know what was contained there? He must stop them before even more damage could be done. Slowly sidling up to the elevator door to look around as it opened he could see the turrets on this level were indeed activated. It looked as though they already fired on something, but there was no trace. Did the zebra find a way around the defenses somehow?

This one might be even more skilled than anticipated. Bright Step's thoughts drifted to the sheer size of the stable. This stable was smaller than average, but even being able to support a hundred or so ponies meant the scope of the place was vast. His enemy was doubtlessly going to take advantage of this to elude pursuit. There was one thing going for him, the zebra likely did not know the place was empty which should slow them down. Sheer serendipity is all that allowed them to get in here. It would not take too long before catching on though.

"Alright, stripey.. so you can avoid the turrets somehow. They still fire at you. I have the advantage here." The security badge he wore was magically attuned to match the wearer, it would do them no good to take it from him. Searching the immediate area he could not help but notice the enormous elevation shaft central to the facility. It would never see use now. After all, the world outside was at an end wasn't it? A depressive feeling set in upon the realization that he was utterly alone. He would never see another friendly face again. This emotion only combined with his anger.

"Calm down." He spoke to himself.

"Deal with that later. If there is a later." He limped down the halls towards the place he knew the zebra was trying to reach. One final time he quickly tried an intercom panel.

"Anypony respond?" Static. Far more static than there should be. It would be very difficult to surprise this most dangerous prey. Facing an opponent of unquestionable skill gave him pause. How was he going to stop them? The controls he knew the zebra must be after were protected by their own set of turrets. They were important enough to warrant extra defenses. Judging by how fast he was moving they must be fairly close to each other.

Spotting a wheeled work cart gave him an idea. Hopping on top of it he heaved it down the hallway at a high pace with the pistols in front, speeding towards the swinging doors into the room with the turrets. Through the doors windows, he could see a glimmering shadow dodging around the room as the incinerator turrets fired off. So that was how they were being avoided. Each shot was a wide burst of reactor powered flames, but they were sluggish in aiming and slow to fire. Just enough for a nimble zebra to avoid. No one left to tell about this shortcoming. Slamming into the doors sent them wide as he added his firepower to the turrets.

In either the greatest acrobatics show of all time or simply the best stroke of luck ever, the spy went cartwheeling off behind a reel-to-reel computing device as a strange little metal box was flung directly at the controls. Rolling to a hard stop against the opposite wall he turned to look out upon the auton gallery. Six of the unusual constructs were stored here, and something enormous. The outside of the box that was hurled must have been magnetic as it clamped itself against the controls with a resounding clang. A dull thud echoed throughout the gallery as an odd faint flicker passed through the stark mechanical eyes of each.

"What have you done!?" He yelled and fired several rounds past the machinery where the zebra was now taking cover. The spy was carrying an automatic, in his haste to get here there was no time to stop in at the armory to pick up something heavier for himself. This meant he must keep them pinned down somehow or he would be facing a barrage of bullets. Deftly dodging across to take cover behind another machine the brazen spy barely managed to get off a wild round which ricocheted past his head. Too close. The turrets were just throwing them off enough. Whatever they were after was already done. Jumping on the cart he hurled himself back out the door firing a few rounds behind for cover.

He would go for the armory and come seeking them again with heavier guns if the turrets didn't get them. The cart was proving useful to let him get around easier, but he needed a better solution. Heading straight back to elevator he realized how exhausted he was becoming. The exertion of the fight caused him to bleed quite profusely. He moaned in agony as he undid and re-tightened the bandaging, it worked itself loose during the fight. Floor 4 contained the armory. Agonizingly slowly it rose, finally coming to a stop. This time he locked the staff elevator in place. It would not move without him. This should leave the zebra trapped on floor 16 for a while at least.

Pushing himself along on the cart as he was made him feel pretty pathetic. He entered the code to the armory door. There was a very special medical kit in here.

"This should keep me going a little longer." He was gasping a little. His wound was far too serious for a healing potion alone to do much good. Surgery would have been needed to correct this. Within the box were various drugs and potions not intended to be used lightly. He was dying anyway, this might at least give him enough time.

"So, this is the one." Taking out a particularly nasty looking needle filled with some deep red liquid he popped the cap off and injected the entire contents into himself. The pain let up immediately. His vision also went blurry.

"Now for it, before I drop." Huffing he turned to the various weapons lockers. He didn't want what was in them. Opening a door further in he found what he was after.

"Okay, ya murderous freak. You've killed hundreds of ponies and yourself. Let's see how you deal with this." Pulling a cover off revealed a small armored two-wheeled Mini-Gaitling MK-IV. It was a very uncommon weapon. During the entire war it was deployed very sparingly. Although the firing speed was unrivaled it did have problems. The speed itself caused some of them. It was also very heavy. The recoil was barely held in check by heavy springs which dispersed some of it along with the wheel locks.

"The world is gone. Might as well go out with a bang myself." Painfully he slipped on an armor vest, a grenade belt which held 5 across his back and picked up a PAR-47 assault rifle. Slowly pushing the heavy gun down the hall and into the elevator was time-consuming. Surely it would be worth it. Normally a two-pony team would be required to operate the weapon. He knew the potent drug mixture he injected himself with was really a failed experiment. A last resort intended to keep soldiers fighting if they found themselves injured and cut off from aid. The few times it was tested proved only that using such powerful drugs comes with serious consequences. He probably wouldn't have to worry about that. Time for the show.

"I'm gunning for you, stripey." Bright Step psyched himself up as the elevator went down. Time felt like it stopped until finally the doors opened. His enemy would have found another place to lay in wait by now. Still, this time he was armed to the teeth and a potent mixture of drugs was giving him a false strength. Ordinarily he would never have used it. He was going to get at least this one zebra for their crimes against life. Having ensured so many more would die seemed little more than a ridiculous pointless cruelty only the most black-hearted soul could possibly commit. The elevator doors hissed open.

"Alright, round three. I am going to put an end to you." Pushing the hefty gun out he once more stepped forth from the elevator. He was afforded some protection by the gun itself and two armor plates that stuck up from the sides.

It was by no means a perfect defense. A large gap between the plates allowed the gun to be aimed. It was set quite low to the ground between the wheels. It was after all more of a static emplacement weapon. The strain on his leg was plain to see, even the fresh bandages he only put on moments ago were soaked through with blood. He wouldn't live much longer at this rate. The hunt was on once again. What trickery might be waiting for him now? Only one way to find out. This time he was not trying to be quiet at all, he wanted the zebra to come at him. There was no way the spy would be expecting this. Amped on drugs as he was made him certain it was possible to take them out if only he could catch the slightest glimpse. It would not be as easy to locate them now.

The only reason he could see them before was due to the turrets forcing them to move around so much. The shimmering was very subdued, but a dead giveaway when the intruder was moving fast. He was no stranger to pain and danger, having fought in two of the most prolonged and heated battles of the entire war. The mixture of sadness and anger drove him on. Wishing would not bring back the many who died this day. This small act of retribution was nothing in comparison to the sheer magnitude of it all. Now it was just something he must do, whatever it took. He looked about this empty tomb. The unused offices, working spaces and common areas. In only a week it would have been provisioned, full of life. As it stood the construction crews left only a few days prior.

This was a place meant to protect senior military staff and provide hope for the future. Now it would save nopony. He strapped what was left of the experimentals to the back of his good foreleg. It held one final useful thing. He prayed to whatever good may be left he would not need it. The turrets above were still operating, swiveling to and fro seeking a target. Good. Shoving the heavy weapon would likely have been beyond him at this point if not for the drugs coursing through his veins. With time running out he made as much noise as possible. He wanted a confrontation now. Any outcome would end with his death anyway. Feeling his heart stutter gave renewed determination to end this quickly.

"I gotta focus." If he was able he would of activated the auton contingent housed within the facility. He thought about it. There was no knowing what that strange flash was in their eyes or what the box did to their controls, especially one in particular. Something about that one made him nervous, their big secret. They would have made short work of this. It was not a risk he was willing to take now. The autons were something different, unusual in some way he was not entirely aware of. He only knew the very first was destroyed somehow, and explicitly told never to activate them except under a very specific set of circumstances or outright emergency. Then there was that one.

His orders said never allow that one to be activated without the entire design team present. Shivering he moved on. If there was time to think earlier he would have made several different decisions. It was far too late to do anything about those choices now. No. The surprise and confusion was too much, too fast. He could not have acted any differently. Catching him by surprise and keeping him off-balance were tactics he knew well, tactics which he'd fallen for far too easily. He was still furious with himself. He was probably going to be given command of this base and let it come to this. His thoughts were racing.

"It is not my fault. There should have been more guards. There should have been...These thoughts are stupid. They waltzed right through a whole military camp outside without getting caught." The camp outside for all intents and purposes really was a small town. Another facade should any of the public happen to wander by. Even being supplied by a privately held farm just off to the north to reduce the amount of supplies being shipped in. All in effort to keep this place a secret.

"All the little loose ends of projects nopony cared about anymore wound up stored here. How did they even find out about this place?" It didn't matter now. Nothing truly mattered now.

Surely multitudes of ponies outside were dead or dying by this time.

"Time to step up my game!" Realizing he yelled that out loud made him feel a bit foalish. He let loose a despairing laugh at the insanity of it all which suddenly ceased.

"Oh, these drugs are really doing a number on me. Stop wasting time, move." Goading himself he pushed onwards. Locking down each door as he went along this time was a calculated move. At some point the spy would have to act or be forever trapped in a single room, but he could not use them for cover either.

Not feeling any sort of pain let him move at full speed, but doing so meant he was exacerbating his wound further. His body would not stand up to this abuse for long. Hopefully he would encounter the enemy soon. This was already taking far too long. Perhaps wheeling this heavy weapon along was a mistake after all. Soon enough he might have to abandon it, losing the serious edge it would give him. Deciding it best to keep shoving it forward he stuck with the decision. There were only about six more rooms left. The zebra must be present here somewhere close. The drug was only designed to last about half an hour. His heart felt shuddery and off beat from all the blood loss.

No drug, no matter how potent could sustain this for long. Finally, down to the last three rooms of this floor they met. The entire area lit up with gunfire from both directions, rounds bouncing off the walls and armor plates. Two ricocheting shots struck him directly across the armor vest, breaking a few of his ribs. He did not feel it, yet. The zebra was using the doorway on the right as cover, only firing around it at an angle. At least this left them at a disadvantage. While this exchange went on he was still wheeling the hefty gun forward. At the same time pulling all 5 pins and levitating off the grenade belt, throwing it down the hall. Catching sight of this the spy backpedaled into the corner room.

The grenades were set to detonate on contact. When they hit the floor a massive explosion sent debris everywhere. Being in a confined space the blast smashed into the gun, knocking him down. Immediately getting up again he pressed what was strapped to the back of his leg, emptying a final needle into himself. The world turned red. Screaming he began running forward through the haze and smoke, firing the assault rifle randomly. He'd thrown the grenades a bit too far, the blast would have missed his target. Much of the end of the hallway was just a mess of steel and wiring. The room the zebra ducked into was a lab for this floor. Suddenly a flaming cloak flew past him in the haze.

The zebra must have backed into a gas burner ignited by the explosion. Turning to fire he found his rifle knocked away and a resounding kick across his head. He fell to the floor. Ordinarily this would have knocked him unconscious. The zebra moved in for a final blow.

"Nope." Springing straight up as he smacked a hoof across their head sent them flying into the rear wall, falling onto their face in a heap. Lifting the rifle he moved in. Without thinking he stepped in towards them as a shot rang out cutting through his left hind leg causing him to fire a spray as he dropped, hitting her several times across the body.

He forgot the spy took his pistol which she shot him with. His own pistol, well this was embarrassing. Groaning he fell, slamming into the floor once more. His head landed right beside hers. Barely able to lift his head he looked at her. So it was a female. The drugs were wearing off. His pain would soon be at an end. Gazing at her he could not really imagine they were all that different. She wasn't quite dead yet either. The pistol clicked on an empty chamber as she dropped it. The very last round. He felt it was fitting.

"Good fight, stripey." He huffed. In that accent all zebra speak with she mumbled raggedly.

"Not so bad yourself." If only she knew what she'd put him through.

"Maybe it's just the blood loss speaking or the fact we've killed each other..you are really cute." She blushed softly as they both fell into sleep eternal. The major died here, alone. If he knew some ponies did hear his initial request for response over the intercom he may not have. There were still seven other ponies within the complex, two were guards. For no reason they knew he did not get their reply. The intercom system was garbled, useless. They desperately tried to find him. The place was simply so huge. For so few ponies it could take days to locate him on their own.

They were the final machining crew assigned to building the armor plates for the outsized auton standing on the elevation platform. It was under construction ever since the main platform was finished. How it shined standing there. Awaiting possible use in war. A war that was ending. Each pony was only assigned a specific piece to construct to precise specifications. Specialized spells were cast on every piece, some of the spells even the unicorns casting them did not know the exact purpose of. It would all come together in the end. None knew the real secret behind this construct. To them it was just another albeit rather large robot. It was not like the rest. They felt odd being around it. Something felt cold and off about it somehow, but each auton felt somewhat that way to ponies. Just how it was. No problem. That is normal.

Despite their insistence they felt different than other robots, it was ignored. Nopony heard it, a dull clanking sound coming down the halls. It roamed the empty dim corridors methodically, searching. It was not a thing that should be active. Few were left to hear the slight mechanical sound of its limbs lifting then contacting the flooring to reverberate throughout the stillness. Slowly panning its head left to right the dull ivory auton located the major and the spy through the dusty haze. For a moment it halted, looking at them lying there as if frozen. Its eyes occasionally flickering in and out from the faintest red to a cold steeled blue colour. It reached forward and touched the lifeless form of the major almost gently, stopping for a long time before carefully lifting him. The flicker returned to its eyes as it violently threw his body onto its back.

Doing the same with her corpse, it then proceeded to the elevator where it clicked and clattered staring at the floor buttons. The doors closed. The crew could not know what was happening. They were trying to reach the command room several floors below. The base lockdown was proving a problem for them as well. The staff elevator would not come when called. Some doors they did not have authorization to open, forcing them to find longer paths around. This crew was not really supposed to be here any longer. They were on break between assignments. One of those things easily overlooked, their work finished. They would have been ordered somewhere else eventually. Two weeks passed already.

They'd spent the time resting and recuperating in the 9th floor quarters area. Rest they desperately needed anyway. They couldn't be reprimanded for not receiving orders, so took advantage. The group consisted of two reddish-brown unicorn brothers, a trio of earth pony engineers and the two patrol guards who got them when the alarms went off.

"Can we go up this way?" The colorful yellow mare brushed her auburn mane out of her eyes as she asked the guard. She was the only female amongst them, for all intents and purposes she was one of the guys.

"I think it will take us up to hydroponics. There is a service elevator at the opposite end we can take to floor 6. It will take a while to reach it." The guard was gruff and looked very out of sorts.

They had no idea what was happening and no orders. The frantic crackling call from the major for anypony to respond lent considerable urgency to finding him.

"You're the engineers, why won't the intercoms work right all of a sudden?" He was wearing a full vest and helmet with a visor they managed to get out of a riot locker. The other guard was not so protected.

"We don't know what is causing it, but there seems to be two kinds of magnetic and one tremendous magic field coming from somewhere inside causing problems with the facility systems." The guard grunted as they exited the stairwell onto the hydroponics level. Plants were everywhere in large long planters under venting and recycling shafts.

The air was extremely fresh here, as was the water which was filtered from pipes through various types of plant for near complete recyclability. This place would not rely on a water talisman.

"Is there anything we can do about it? The major might be in trouble somewhere. We cannot possibly search this whole place for him. We can't even open all the doors." The engineers shook their heads forlornly in unison. She went on.

"The complex is hardened against E.M.P. from the outside and has some anti-magic infused plating around key sections, but this is coming from inside continuously and its very intense. We need to get away from it. Constant exposure to this level of unknown magnetism and magic fields together could be dangerous." It took them much too long already to reach this floor.

The dark blue engineer with a gear and crossed wrench as a cutie mark spoke up.

"We don't really know that. We need to get to the command room and find some information about what is happening first." He took a slow breath.

"I have an idea for when we get there." A diminutive white and mottled brown engineer chimed in. He was a bit small for a stallion, very friendly and easygoing. His mark was difficult to guess the meaning of, looking for all the world like a thick balled up mass of wires.

"We can see which of the emergency panels was used to tell where this started and go from there." The group agreed that was a good idea and walked on through this floor they were not familiar with. The guards knew it well enough, but never did they have to find a way through it during lockdown before. If the base were fully staffed there would be personnel on every floor with necessary clearances at any given time. Now it was a frustrating maze with many dead ends and barred doors blocking their way.

"This is impossible! Why didn't they give the guards clearance to move about freely if lockdown was initiated, wouldn't that make more sense?" The guards could only shrug. It would probably have been fixed later.

Their progress was slow. Finding a way to the elevator was confusing.

"We've been here before. All we've done is go in a big complicated circle somehow." One of the brothers mentioned.

"How long has it been since we heard that call, half an hour?" He sighed. The quiet dull orange engineer who never seemed to speak surprised them by doing so. His mark was clear enough, a trigonometry symbol.

"This time, scratch marks into the wall so we know where we've been already." It was a good idea. The directional signs were useless when doors could not be opened. Working their way through like this was tedious.

"Are we the only ponies in this whole place?" The unarmored guard nodded.

"Supposed to be fully provisioned next week, but why isn't this place swarming with the town soldiers? There are plenty of them outside." The situation must be serious. The lighting was very dull.

"Why are the lights so dim?" One of the two brothers was asking more to make conversation than actual curiosity. He just wanted to get out of here.

"Might be a result of those fields. We really need to get to command level. This is so annoying. We need to go up to go back down again because of the stupid lockdown." The mare was usually solid and logical.

She was talking very quickly which was unlike her. Their current plight was making her fidgety. Her nervousness was not helping.

"Hey, relax. We'll just get where we need to go and everything will be fine, alright?" The other brother noticed her rapid speech.

"Take a deep breath, okay?" She did so as they continued to wind their way through the floor. Finally, the elevator.

"Oh, it feels good to finally be making some headway." She appeared calmer as they piled into the service elevator.

It was tight inside, and felt sluggish as it went up three floors.

"Did anypony else.." She was cut off by the others saying yes.

"That sure felt strange. Never did that before." Now they only needed to reach the other end of floor 5. The elevator doors opened oddly slowly as well.

"Say, if this is a lockdown why aren't some of them Protectathingies roaming around?" The diminutive engineer asked.

"There should be, as far as I know. Something is really wrong with all of this. No worries though, your badges will keep you safe if there are." The guards were doing their best to keep the group calm.

It was mostly succeeding since it was only the stress of not knowing what was happening elsewhere that was bothering them.

"Now, if we can just get to the other elevator we can go straight down to command." Things were looking up. This floor was mostly storage areas. It was not taking nearly as long to find their way around. Ten more minutes passed in silence until at last they found a path to the secondary elevator. Weary of the winding route they were forced to take, a direct way would be nice for a change.

"It's about time. Hey wait a sec, look." The eldest of the two unicorns pointed a hoof up at the floor dial.

"I didn't press the button." The doors opened to reveal a dark grey mechanical pony.

"Speaking of robots. My, does this one look a little odd to you?" It spoke in a lifeless deep monotone.

"Present badge." He held up the pass hanging from his neck. It stared at the pass, motionless.

"Guys, what is this thing doing?" He looked back over his shoulder at the rest. They did not know what to say.

"Present badge." Somehow it sounded more insistent, if that were possible.

"This is my badge, ya metal moron." It lowered and raised its head.

"Present badge." This was not getting them anywhere.

"Look robot, the badge is right here." He held it up closer.

"Present badge." Raising and lowering its head in between it kept repeating.

"Present badge. Present badge." His brother was moving up closer beside him.

"Uh, guys?" The auton took a step closer.

"Okay, that is it. This is an emergency. Move aside, robot." For a second none of them could quite comprehend what happened. A very faint white glow enveloped it as the auton swung a leg across his neck sending his still blinking head flying backwards to land in front of the mare while blood sprayed across his brother. She screamed as they all recoiled in horror. The guards were yelling.

"Fall back, fall back!" She just stood there. All of them were so stunned they were not moving. The guard wearing armor shook her.

"What are you doing? Run!" It finally kicked in that they needed to be moving away from this mechanical monstrosity. The other guard took a shot at the crazed auton, hitting it squarely in the left eye which caused its head to turn. The group was finally getting away from it as it slowly turned its head back. Two small plates rotated out of its shoulders and slid back as dual automatics of some sort ejected and opened up. The guard wearing the armor was struck by several rounds as they leapt into the other hallway.

"You alive?" Being struck with a single bullet even wearing a vest hurts considerably. He was struck by five. He moaned in pain from cracked ribs and bruises.

"Good. No time to feel pain. Now, move!" The other guard pulled him to his hooves and moved to help him walk. The auton was coming. The rest of their group was scattered in every direction.

"It's too fast." Unnaturally fast. It swayed side to side as it trampled over the dead unicorns body and galloped down the hall.

"Why is it doing this!?" Somepony yelled as it sprinted down the halls at a pace they could not hope to match. It went right past the guards for some reason, charging straight at the remaining twin.

He looked up to see it heading towards him. There was nowhere to go. Tears streamed as he shut his eyes.

"I'm coming, brother." With that it's head slammed into him with such tremendous power a sickening cracking sound was heard as his body flew into the ceiling to come slamming down against the floor in a heap. The whirring terror turned its head left and right, seeking. It bolted down another hall to find two of the engineers trying to force one of the hall doors closed on it. Too late. A spray of projectiles struck the one in front. He slumped over as the other engineer dropped to the floor. He looked up to see the auton towering over him.

"No, please.." It smashed a metal hoof down through his skull, crushing their bodies as it walked over them. It turned its attention to the remaining guards. They could only go back the way they'd come. He yelled.

"Head for the service lift!" There was no way to tell if anypony was left to hear him. The guard sneered at the insane thing approaching him as he set down his wounded companion.

"Go." He turned back. His pistol would be useless. Earth ponies are known for their sheer physical strength in any line of business which is why at least one was present in every army unit.

He weighed his options and chose the only real one available. As the maniacal machine bore down on him at full speed he braced himself, timing his move as he reared to throw his front hooves up, hitting it directly in what would have been a live ponies chest, denting the armor plating. It was almost enough to slow it down. As it hit he was shoved backwards, he strained against it while sparks were actually flying off his rear hooves against the metal flooring. For a second it appeared he may have a chance. His luck quickly ran out. The impact was proving too much as his legs buckled against the heavy autons relentless onslaught. The other guard jumped atop it.

"I told you to go!" He could barely move after that impact.

"Forget it. We die together." He grunted while the wild machine twisted and turned violently as he grappled with it. Even their strength was rapidly dwindling fighting something with no will to break. The unarmored guard rammed a hoof against the damaged left eye, shattering it. They were not doing enough damage. It sidestepped into the wall with ridiculous force, then again, breaking the armored guards legs. He screamed then fell silent as it threw him off. He was probably dead, if not he soon would be.

"Luna send you to the pits!" He turned and bucked it hard to the face with all his remaining strength. Its head tilted far back to make it look as if contemplating the ceiling. A clacking noise was heard as its head slowly ratcheted back down. He was turning to aim another kick. It was too late. The auton spun with a speed no machine could possibly possess and performed the same move. Its legs struck him mid center, flinging him into the wall as his spine snapped. The final breath of air hissed out of his lungs as he crumpled. The seemingly insane auton stood over him. It remained there tilting its head about, looking at the bodies as if studying a piece of art.

It began gathering up their corpses, taking them to be piled in the elevator. Stepping in on top of them it circled to face the floor now virtually covered in blood. The doors wouldn't close, opening several times. One of their limbs was hanging out. It looked down and casually tore off the leg. She sobbed, crying as she ran. The other engineers told her to run while they tried to rig a door to crush it. She heard gunshots behind her, then somepony yelling about the service lift. It was followed shortly thereafter by a horrible pained yowl and a terrible thud. They must have failed. The guards, their only real hope were nowhere to be seen. Were they all dead? Why?

Practically bounding she nearly flew through the winding halls back to the lift.

"No." Her eyes went wide as she approached the opening doors, setting another of the monsters loose.

"Present badge." She backed away only to stop as she heard heavy steps off to each side. She stopped walking and sat down hard as her mind gave way to what was happening. The world seemed to close in around her. Twitching she looked around. Multicolored eyes moved towards her from the dark. Five of the horrible things were surrounding her. They were all speaking in that awful deep tone.

"Present badge." There were no ponies left to hear her final pained, hopeless scream.

___

Some ponies somewhere along the line really made a huge mistake, huh?

Get Your Corrugated Imitation Tombstone Today

Ponies loved the light. After a time they learned to appreciate the night. There was nothing scary or frightening out in the black, not really. Not once did a single pony ever envision any of the horror to come. One of their princesses represented this very thing. Nothing terrible resides within it, how could there? Though known to be a bit eccentric she would never steer them wrong. Way back in the depth of time something did happen. Something which most ponies long forgot, when she took a step into the black herself. Only one really remembered that horrible affair, when her beloved sister allowed herself a moments weakness.

A moment too much, resulting in much of the great castle at the time being reduced to rubble in the ensuing fracas. Luna falling victim to such a desire was witnessed by relatively few despite the destruction wrought. Her rapid ascent to power and even faster removal from it left her very much out of the public eye, and easily lost to memory. Far fewer than expected even asked. Her later reintroduction to society was calculated, simple. Forgiveness is easily given when only one truly remembers. When it finally became overwhelming, she found giving over the reins of power to her was easy. Too easy. Nothing comes without a price. The princess of the night was given over to ruling without much fanfare.

Grumbles from the court, to be expected. It took a whole decade for Celestia to be ground down, and only a single not so stray bullet to end any hope for peace. With the final nail all but driven into the coffin, descent into a conflict with only one end was assured. Even vague memories hold their power. Her brief misstep into the dark did not go entirely unnoticed. The zebra nation fractured at that time. Thus the very foundations of the Zebra Empire began to form and solidify around that single incident. Unlike the ponies of Equestria who developed a holiday from the fragmented recollection of the past, beliefs in the form of superstition took hold instead. They blamed her for the nation collapsing.

About halfway through the war when zebra society learned just who was now leading Equestria, the seeds of dissent were sown. Before, Caesar found balancing the need for gems and associated expansion difficult. Now against the outcry it was an impossible task. In truth there was no chance for continued peace to begin with. Layer after layer of those little incidents that happen, happened. The kind that don't seem like they should mean anything to anyone piled on until they forced Celestia herself to desperately attempt brokering a peace deal. In doing so all she really managed was to open herself to attack, resulting in the loss of one of their greatest heroes.

As he fell the whole world fell with him into untempered warfare. 187 years after this war ended, a little rock fell.

"I do not like the feeling I get in here. Try the audio logs, maybe they'll have something on this place." He used the strange interface to do so. There was an odd warble to the sound coming from the tinny ancient speakers.

"It might not be very good or work. This stuff is so old." It scratched and crackled then began to play.

"Has you decided to use? Far been? Why I’ve been further more even decided to use go need to do look more like as anypony can. Can you really be far as even decided half as much to use wish go for that? I guess that one when really been far even as once decided to use even go want, it is then that he has really been far as even decided to use go want to do look more like. It’s just common sense." The group of four stared incredulously at the playing audio.

"Wh..what?" They all said in unison.

"Maybe try a different one." He played with the strange interface again. After a horrible click it started again.

A high-pitched nasally voice which snorted out a laugh, spoke.

"Are your cupcakes saggy, sloppy, messy, slippy? Nothing's more thrilling than cupcakes with filling, and you'll thrill anyone with our magic cupcake oven! For the perfect cupcake every time. Just put anything in there!" All four of them blinked in silence as it fuzzed out.

"Didn't that wacko pegasus say this was a secret military base? What is this? Try again." Hesitantly he engaged the next log in the list which only displayed 'Hardware adjunct failure.' That one was out.

After scrolling through numerous corrupted entries he finally found another accessible file.

"Uncomfortable in clothes no matter what you wear? Try decontouring magical fashion wear. Soft, comfortable. It's like wearing a cloud, because you are." All they could do was wonder why an old army base would have these recordings.

"These logs make no sense. They are surprisingly amusing, but what are they?" Their leader was just as confused as the rest.

"Well, he told us to find and bring back anything we can from here. Maybe they are some kind of code or something. Keep going." Sighing heavily he continued down the list. Many of the log files were inaccessible.

A while later he found another amongst the huge list. A heavy buzzing sounded over the speaker. Hearing it felt strange. As it slowly began to play a deep sense of foreboding settled over the group.

"Major, we're down here!" A loud skip in the audio made them jump a little bit.

"Major, major can you hear us?, we're coming!" The log trailed off into noise. They looked around uncomfortably.

"That..didn't sound like the others." A chill seemed to fall across them as they ventured further inside.

___

Now we're cooking. At least, somepony was. Was it with gas or fire? One wonders. One might also wonder if it might have been poisoned. Like so many things here, even the light casts dark.

Coats of Many Colors

Books are written for a great variety of reasons. Some are written as a record of history. Some to rewrite it. It is all in the eyes of those beholding the words contained within. It is said history is written by the victors, but what is written when no one is victorious? In post-war Equestria, exactly nothing. The very existence of books is a rare thing. Rarer still, those who would seek them. Very few ponies remain who know the knowledge they may contain is sometimes more valuable than all the caps in the wastes. Especially now that knowledge truly is power. What you know may be the difference between the fine divide between life and death, and remaining on the side of the living.

In a time when everypony struggles just to survive only might makes right. Before the war some unicorns may have felt themselves above the common crowd. Now their lives meant just as little as another. Most unicorns kept at least a few books. In a dim forgotten corner of an ancient book depository one particular book lay, the unicorn who owned it never knowing how valuable it would one day become. She knew only that the subjects it touched on were greatly detailed. Something which must have taken an entire lifetime to write. When she lived she was not a well-to-do unicorn. Her life was meager and bereft.

A sad little pony who toiled her life away trying to ensure future generations would have the knowledge their ancestors possessed. Her sadness only tempered by the stories she would read, her one escape from her goal. To a point only dragons were thought to know with their great hoards, she was obsessed. For years she obtained and hid all manner of books. Anything she deemed those to follow may need. The slightest shred of knowledge, the most obscure spell. Anything that might someday be needed she filed away from sight. She began this quest to safeguard knowledge almost before the ministries came into being. Back when it was not considered so dangerous to know certain things.

She was thought to be eccentric, and certainly questioned when she went looking for donations to help build the depository. Why build it out there? She chose a spot where she imagined it might stand the test of time. She found it difficult to raise funds or to get workers to come this far out, but dealing with these things were necessary pains. Her explanations behind its location were quite clever. Nopony would suspect the true intent. No mere library once stood here. Every bit, every minute of her spare time was spent here. When workers were scarce she would do anything she could alone.

Long days of heavy labor made her look withered far beyond her age, her once bright blue coat tattered and unkempt. Her cutie mark of a glimmering gilded scroll frazzled. Her friends concerns over her appearance were carefully brushed aside with well-reasoned explanations. Not able to find fault with her logic they could only watch in sadness as this pony seemed to teeter on the edge of life before them. She knew, and was happy knowing her friends cared so much for her. They would leave her before the end, as would what was left of her family. She knew this too. It was okay. They would leave because they must. It was better that way.

She did not want them to see her decline any further or involve them in something which could ruin their lives. The better part of a decade passed in this fashion, until at last the depository was fully constructed and very full of books. Slightly uncommon books. Books that would otherwise arouse no suspicion. Her last bit gone, the work finally completed. It opened to a surprising amount of fanfare and many more visited the place than she ever expected. At last able to rest, her health recovered somewhat. Over the next ten years it played its public role as a library, garnering a reputation for carrying material not often found outside of Canterlot itself. This alone drew visitors who did not wish to travel so far as the capital.

During that time she continued to gather and hide away any book of note she could get her hooves on. With the ministries in place this was becoming more difficult to do without being caught. Places to hide these books were at a premium as well, but built into the grand library using very clever means. Small secret rooms and side pockets not in the construction plans were added subtly. To an untrained eye it was no different from the plans. What pony would ever expect a public library to hold any secrets? She played her role well, none would ever suspect the quiet shady deals she would seek out under cover of acquiring material for the depository.

It was a perfect front, flawless and far enough away from anywhere important to warrant a second look. Though her physical health improved, the stress exacted its price. She could never save all the knowledge in the world no matter how many books she obtained. Doing without many of the comforts of life she built the grand depository in hope for the future. The building did indeed hold up fairly well over the years, but the wastes are harsh on everything. The crumbling ancient walls and timber could barely hold up what was left. The first floor lay open to the world. The second floor cracked and filled with holes. Little remained.

Should no pony happen across this place soon, her efforts would be proven entirely in vain. Much of her life was spent in loneliness, to spare any around her the risk. Having been orphaned early in life through an industrial accident, and her mother succumbing to an uncommon illness, she resolved then that someday she would bring as much of the worlds knowledge together in one place as she could. She came as close to this impossible goal as could be. A mere two months before the wars climactic end ministry investigators began finding evidence of her dealings that would be used to close and search the depository. They would never get the chance.

There are many types of sacrifice, was hers worth it?

Adventurer

She ran through the day. The horrible sight she'd witnessed behind her driving her onwards. It played at her mind. What could she have done? Should she have turned and fought? Never having had any experience in a real fight she probably would have lost. Lost against the awful ponies that ruined her life. Running and running. Don't look back. She thought that horrible monster thing before was the most terrible thing ever, but these first few terrifying hours running were the worst thing she ever experienced. Fleeing from her home by herself. Hoping never to see the crazed murderous pony again who so coldly ended her parents lives. For what? Why were her parents dead? Alone she ran and ran. Eventually fatigue overtook her.

That night in her dread she did not even remove herself from Moonlight. She felt secure in here. This confining space she was so afraid of when she first saw it was now her haven. It would keep her safe. Safe from the horror. Safe from the terrifying evil inflicted on her family. Safe from the pain. She fell asleep leaning against the remains of an ancient dead tree in the middle of this nothingness. She was so tired. The suit would protect her. The only sure thing in a world that betrayed her young heart and left her with nothing but fear. A night passed.

"I never did anything wrong. It's not fair. It's just not fair!" She kicked the ground with an armored hoof, nearly tripping herself in the process.

"Agh! Stupid horrible ponies. My dad didn't deserve that. Mom Didn't. They both made mistakes sure, but why did they have to kill anypony!?" This time she ran forward to work off pent up frustration with the cart rolling behind, its contents her only possessions. The thought the terrible ponies that attacked them might follow her tracks occurred to her so did her best to obscure them for a day or two just in case. After the rapid departure from home her only thought was escape. After those two days full of fear it did not at all seem possible for them to follow.

"Mom, dad.. what do I do!?" She moaned as she ran, slowing.

Returning to a normal pace she found her heart pumping too hard. "Just walk. Just walk that way. He said to do that. Just do that." On the third day into her unexpected trip she was already feeling desperately alone and dejected. There was nothing out here. Nothing at all. Certainly no other ponies. Time passed and days slipped by one after another.

"There's nothing out here, nothing! Did ponies really let this happen to everything everywhere? What happened?" The empty parched landscape seemed to roll out forever in front of her. For an eternity of loneliness and anguish she wandered through this emptiness, her thoughts tortured by the images of her father dying right in front of her.

Her mother she did not even get to say goodbye to. Minutes passed one by one, then hours which turned to day after lonely day. Not a hint of life could be seen here. She always thought the farm felt empty and lifeless compared to the tiny town she barely knew. That thought had been so wrong. Compared to this horrible loneliness the farm was positively bustling.

"Maybe I should have went to Far Side instead? I had to leave in such a hurry. Dad told me to go this way though." On she marched, passing mile after empty mile of absolutely nothing. The sheer hollowness of it all tore at her mind.

On the barren land rolled.

"How long have I been out here? I feel so lost. I feel so small." The mountain ranges far off to the north looked imposing, intimidating, and altogether lonely as she felt.

"This is surprisingly boring. Where are the all bad things, the danger mom and dad told me of in the world?" There was only emptiness. Once or twice she tried using the suits magic apparatus. It was still just as taxing and hurt her head badly to use it. She stopped counting the days as they passed. Moonlight kept track of time and distance anyway.

Another day passed, and another. In a blind haze she continued pressing on, always eastward. Days dragged, the hours, the minutes, the seconds. Time seemed to stand still as she trudged on, her only hope of reaching the distant destination to relentlessly do so as long as could be stood at a time. Could she possibly make it? Her thoughts were consumed with the fact her escape may have been pointless if she wound up dead out here anyway. Visions of her parents lifeless forms haunted every step.

"I can't do this, I can't. No, don't think about it. Just walk." Another day, another. Walking on and on.

It was so wearing on the mind doing the same thing all day, every day. Surviving this trek seemed impossible even with the supplies she dragged behind her in the small rickety cart.

"I'm not even halfway there yet. Maybe this was a bad idea, but I have to go somewhere right? Dad said it was there." It was so much further than she had ever been in her entire life. Where was everything? She knew the great cities of old were very far away, but was there truly nothing out this way at all? If at some time there was, not a single trace remained. As each day passed her spirits fell ever further. The sheer depressiveness of it all was devastating.

The world was so dreary. She did not realize just yet how much she was mumbling under her breath as she walked. If anypony were around to hear they would surely think she was crazed.

"I wish..I wish..." She did not finish this particular thought. Even wishing felt too hopeful at the moment. There was just so much distance to cover. Her father said she was in very good condition for the trip he had planned, but he was expecting to be with her. This was probably not the route he would have taken either. Knowing this was the case did not help now. In the sudden rush to escape there was no time to think and consider.

She'd simply done what her fathers last words to her said to do. The terrain here was mostly flat which let her keep a decent pace without much effort or planning. Here and there the slightest pile of dirt stirred up by the occasional wind lay scattered. It did little to break up the monotonously dull trip. After one week passed she was feeling pretty low and ragged. For a few days she'd been hopeful due to the apparently speedy progress she was making towards her goal, but this was drilling at her willpower. As yet another day passed she was growing very concerned. By the time nearly two weeks passed she was in a far more terrible state. Her parents were brutally murdered right in front of her for no reason she could fathom.

Since that moment she walked and did so some more. Thanks to this suit dubbed Moonlight she could continue to walk even in the dark without worry of stumbling into an unseen pitfall or unnoticed obstacle. Everything was highlighted in such a unique way. The visual of the world from within the suit was a welcome distraction. The length of her trek so far was interminable beyond compare. In the bottom right of her vision a constant 'no broadcast' flashed. For much of the time she simply went forward, east, trying not to think or feel. Forward to some distant unknown place her father bid her go with the last of his strength.

For much of her life she wanted adventure and excitement, but not like this. Not all alone. All that was really wanted right now were her parents whom she would never see or speak to again. She understood they were not her true parents, but never having known them could only hope they would have cared for her as much as her adoptive father and mother. For all she knew, her life may have been terrible with them. Her real father sounded like he was sincere when he begged the poor fleeing pegasus to take care of her, but he was a pony of the wastes. It may have been he merely wanted to make some act of his life worthwhile or have meaning. She never knew her parents names at all, not even her adoptive parents.

These facts began to dig at her. The suit made light work of pulling her cartful of supplies. A lot of food, less and less water. In comparison to the food, the water she was chugging through at a dangerous rate. Despite the armor having built-in protections against letting a pony inside overheat it was still hot. She would not abandon the suit as it was really her only possession now, and may be needed later. Sometimes she imagined it actually responding to things she said. It really did not and would only react as it was designed to, but in her current state of mind she needed something, anything to listen to her addled rantings about unfairness and any wild thing she would think to say.

When she spoke of where she was heading the suit displayed an arrow and distance. Huh? How did it know that? She could swear it was listening, even sympathetic, but that was surely impossible. She walked so far already and was beginning to fear her father gave wrong directions as he lay dying. It would not be his fault if he did, but she was becoming so very frightened of never seeing another living thing.

"I gotta be brave. I have to be tough. I always wanted to have an adventure. Daddy was brave and tough, mom was....I wanted...I want.. I want mom and dad!" She yelled, stopping to sob uncontrollably.

She truly let herself cry for the first time about what happened. She sat, clumsily slipping out of the suit as it opened and for what felt like forever, tears fell like searing rain as she rocked back and forth.

"How could you leave me all alone!? Dad, mom!...What am I doing?" She shuddered. She didn't know how much time passed. She didn't care. Until now she'd focused on the mundane. The normal. Walking, eating and sleeping to the exclusion of any other thought. The horrible reality suddenly settled in full force. She was after all not quite an adult yet, and utterly alone in the middle of nowhere. She imagined this was the real reason her father was preparing to take her on some impossible quest to find a book nopony could possibly have.

To help her learn how to make her way in the world on her own. He taught her so much in the short span they spent preparing, but some things cannot simply be taught. She could fight and strategize, she could shoot. Her father questioned her on the right solution to many scenarios. What she really did not know was how to interact with other ponies aside from the few in the town she barely knew, much less a griffon or anything else that might be out there. What would they be like? Would they like her? Would this favor he was owed be enough to make them help her? Was he really owed that much? If she ever reached wherever it was. If this griffon was still alive was another matter.

If they were dead or could not be located, then what? She didn't know what to do even if she did find them, much less what to do if she did not. If only they set out sooner at least one of her parents would still be alive. Now, she must try to learn quickly by herself. She looked up as her tears finally subsided and panted, not really feeling any better while awkwardly climbing back into the suit as a slow beeping she never heard before caught her ear.

"Huh?" Her attention was drawn to one of the floating display markers which appeared as the back closed. She'd become used to the floating dials and messages surprisingly quickly. This was different.

The marker twirling as she walked ahead, changing to an arrow pointing to the left along with a glowing 'Investigate' hovering beside it. No, not left. North, with a distance of 200 meters displayed.

"What is this?" As she turned northwards the arrow centered at the top of her vision, changing to gold. It slowly disappeared upward then appeared repeatedly, urging her to go in that direction.

"Moonlight, if only you could really talk to me." She jerked her head back slightly as the display flicked out of her vision and back on for a second.

"Whoa. I hope this thing is alright." Curiosity getting the better of her she headed towards the spot shown. Everything looked the same out here, dull, boring and most of all empty. A place devoid of anything resembling life. Barren. Without the suit direction indicator she would now be hopelessly lost. There were no distinct landmarks. Realizing without the bearing indicator she would really stand no chance of finding anywhere now made her feel terribly small and vulnerable. There was nothing to be seen, why was the suit pointing her this way? Eventually reaching 0 meters the arrow turned into an X. She unhooked herself from the cart bars.

"But, there's nothing here." She looked around in confusion. It was just more empty land, nothing. The blinking X insisted otherwise.

"What?" Far off mountains to the north were the only real feature here. The rest of the landscape was just as tormented as everywhere else.

"Maybe..under the ground?" She jolted as the display flickered out again for a few seconds. "Oh, that worries me." If something happened to the suit she would be in serious trouble.

Not possessing a shovel or any kind of digging tool made it a little tedious using the suit to dig into the dirt, but fairly effective thanks to the amplified force it could deliver. It would still take her far longer than if there were anything to dig with. Hooves are not meant for digging large holes, perhaps a trench. A long time passed as she dug deeper, which took longer the more she did. The X blinked insistently. There must be something here. Becoming very tired of this activity she nearly gave up when upon deciding to dig just a little further she heard a clang as her armored hooves struck home against something metallic. Definitely metal.

"Oh! There is something here after all." She felt accomplished. What could it be? Anything to alleviate the tedium of this torturous journey was welcome. It would still take quite some effort to free the metal box from the ground. Knowing this effort had not been in vain helped a great deal to spur her on. Thinking about it as she went about finishing teasing the box from the ground she realized this would have been an ideal spot for a building. Something probably stood here once. The only clue to it was this buried steel box. If there was anything worthwhile within she did not want to damage it, carefully prying at the decayed hinges. They popped off easily, allowing the lid to slide off with a thunk.

"What the?" What looked like a shiny metal ball with a seam and a blue button on top sat inside. It was so well kept within it appeared brand new. Gently tapping the button did not get a reaction.

"Aww, maybe its broken? Well it did sit here for a long time I guess. Maybe it's worth something." She put it in the cart in a spot where it wouldn't roll off by mistake.

"Well, thanks for pointing me to this Moonlight. Wait, why am I thanking a machine?" She was jarred again by the display flickering off and on.

"Ohh, please be alright. I can't fix you. You're all I have." The display blinked back into existence.

"Whew." That was very concerning. She really did not need to be worried about the suit breaking down now as well. She already walked well over 150 miles, keeping up a grueling pace driven by fear and wanting to put as much distance between herself and the menacing ponies who invaded her home as possible. With her water supplies running lower she really needed to slow down now. She kept herself to any shadow she could find as she traveled onward, favoring night to move. It was ever so slightly cooler at night. An occasional lifeless tree or bit of ragged plant life was the sum total of everything out here anyway.

There were still at least 150 more miles to go. What if father made a mistake in his pain?

"I'm so tired, Moonlight. It feels like I've been walking forever. I could really use a break..huh?" In the top left of her vision the autonomous actions indicator she only saw once before was marked. Why did that show up now?

"Aut..automouse...autonomoose..autonomous actions?" As she spoke it correctly the tag enlarged, shifting in to the center of her vision with a list. Other smaller tags underneath stated combat, defense, and travel options. She was fairly confused by this.

"How come dad never said anything about this stuff?" What did these things even do? She was desperately afraid of breaking the already oddly acting suit. Moonlight seemed to be showing her this on purpose.

"That can't be. This is just a silly coincidence. Must be." She stared at the list for a moment.

"Um, travel?" Immediately the tag enlarged, showing another list of options. Set direction. Set distance. Set speed. Each of these was currently followed by a zero.

"I don't know what this does, better be careful. Set direction?" N-S-E-W? Appeared beside it.

"East?" E locked itself in the box. "Set distance?" Maximum 1609.33 Meters/10 miles? Was displayed beside it. "1 mile?" A floating 1 showed. She was feeling a little apprehensive about this. "Set speed." Walk/Trot/Canter/Gallop/OverBoost? Hovered beside the tag. Without thinking she just blurted it out.

"What the hay is OverBoost?" Which locked into the final box. The tags disappeared as the suit started to move on its own.

"Hey, hey! Whoa!" It started at a walk which felt very uncomfortable as her legs were forced to move with the suit.

It quickly increased in pace until she was moving at a furious gallop.

"Moonlight, stop! Moonlight!" The pace increased further until she was practically flying above the ground barely striking home with each forward leap. Moving faster than she ever thought possible she found it best just to try to relax and allow it to happen. A velocity gauge stated 65 MPH as the suit bounded along with a mind of its own, the cart bouncing behind.

"Moonliiight!" She futilely intoned, her voice practically vibrating from the motion. Less than 20 seconds later the suit whirred and hissed, slowing to a quiet halt exactly one mile from where it started.

She huffed and moaned standing there motionless, her muscles feeling like rubber.

"I think I better be more careful what I say in this thing." She panted and felt pain everywhere. This could be very useful, but she did not want to use that setting again anytime soon.

"Ahh, my legs feel like they're on fire!" She held still for a long while until she felt comfortable lifting her limbs again.

"I guess this suit can move like that for a quick escape or something maybe?" She blinked and very slowly moved on. Though the suit provided the strength and speed she was nearly exhausted from the strain.

It could be set for ten miles? Had anypony ever even tried that? Just from this every part of her felt sore, terribly overtaxed and aching. What condition would doing that for ten miles leave a pony in? She decided to look for a good spot to sleep and recover. While she knew from experience it was possible to sleep wearing the suit, it was not comfortable. As her supplies dwindled she took to sleeping in the back of the cart. It provided at least a little security. She noticed a defense option tag in the list earlier but was too shook up to try anything else yet. A ways away she spotted the very sparse remnants of an ancient wall that was probably part of a building forever ago, just the corner in a sort of triangle really.

She did not imagine anything or anypony at all was out here, but her adoptive father did tell her to stay out of sight whenever possible and only announce her presence if she wanted to be seen. This sounded a little silly to her when she first heard it. When she surprised the pony that ended her parents lives she saw up close just how effective a surprise can be, it nearly saved her father and definitely saved her life. After the unexpected run she hurt so badly everywhere. It was a good kind of hurt she thought to herself. It actually felt sort of nice to have some interesting things happen that were positive after walking so long through the vast barren landscape. She sighed as she hid the cart behind the piece of wall.

There really was nothing out here. The suit threat indicators hadn't shown a single thing since that awful night. They showed nothing now, friendly or not. This land, at least here was totally dead. The remnants of any kind of civilization were so few and far between they might as well not have existed at all. She got comfortable in the cart for another lonely night in the wastes. The morning, such as the dim gray morning could be called in such desolation dawned in that subtle lighter hue as always to reveal absolutely nothing new. Except for the growling. Wait. Growling!? Groggily she opened her eyes.

"Huh!?" A deep growl seemed to be coming from the..cart.

"What?" Then she noticed the strange metal ball she picked up earlier rolling around willy-nilly.

"Grr. grr..uhh oh yeah grr!" She stared incredulously at the metal ball rolling around growling.

"I must be seeing things. That ball is talking." The multifaceted button which would not work before was now glowing a very faint blue. It startled her by rolling straight at her.

"Boo!" She yelped as she fell out of the cart.

"Oof!" The wind was knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard, making her wince in pain.

Her muscles had not yet fully recovered from being pushed too far the previous day. Clutching her chest she picked herself up. Taking a deep breath she cautiously peered over the edge of the cart. The ball was still rolling around at random.

"Hey, hey you! Are you my new owner?" The voice was warped and sluggish sounding like it lacked power to continue.

"Owner, me?" She was still half asleep despite the painful tumble.

"Well you're here, I'm here, so you must be my new owner! YAAAY." It bounced, twirled and rolled about the cart.

"Huh, what are you talking about, uh, ball?" She was beginning to think she was perhaps rationing her water a little too strictly.

"Conglaturations..on your....purchase..of a Happytime Super Happy Funball!!...we hope....you.....willlll......." It sped up ludicrously to sound at a very high pitch then trailed off disturbingly slowly.

"I will what, what? Funball? Hello?" The dim blue light faded from the button.

"Umm.." She blinked several times.

"What..just happened?" She set about having a very small breakfast and even less water. She was not doing too badly on food for the moment but it was still going down. The water would not last too much longer. She had to be careful. The containers looked ever emptier, frighteningly so. She must be getting closer at least by now she figured.

"Ohh..I've been out here so long. Am I ever gonna see anypony again?" A few tears tried to well in her eyes.

"No, don't cry anymore now. Gotta save it." She rubbed her eyes and slipped back into the suit. She was becoming more deft getting into it alone with practice. It still looked awkward from the outside, but was just a routine to her now.

She knew exactly how to position herself and sort of step hop up and slip into it. Not quite with ease. A few times she forgot to tuck her tail down inside, but the suit would not close until she was in properly. It was also a bit harder with sore muscles. It would require another whole day before she would be fully recovered. This slowed her progress a great deal. A distance traveled counter continually displayed in the upper right of her vision counted off the miles. It proved she must be getting close to somewhere. She paced herself the entire time, stopping to take breaks every fifteen miles or so to take a break and split up the monotony of her journey. It was taking a heavy toll on her mental state. There was so little to see.

Moonlight did occasionally state something factual in that disturbingly deep intonation, but it was not like having anypony to talk to.

"The world is so big and empty, Moonlight. It seemed so hard before. I never thought I could be so lonely." Again she somehow felt like the suit was actually listening to her, but chalked it up to desperate imaginings. It was at least a slightly good feeling to imagine something cared about her, alone as she was out here. There was so little variety to the landscape. If anything was ever here there was no evidence of it.

The endless miles passed as they do when one walks. Finally, things began to look different. It was subtle at first, then far more obvious. There were old dilapidated buildings in bits and pieces. Just looking at it she got a strangely familiar feeling. This was a farm once. These were farm fields. If she could tell anything, it was that. She could easily see there were at least four large fields here once, perhaps 5. Like everything else they were barren, lifeless and ruined. She knew the look well enough. The long hard days helping her parents around the rundown and distant farm now felt like nothing more than a dim memory of a time she thought she would never care to remember.

"I'd give anything if this never happened. That awful pony, what did they even want anyway? What did any of us ever do to deserve this?" She bemoaned her situation as she resumed her endless trek eastwards. She even ventured to try using the suits travel option again, this time setting it to a regular walk. It was much smoother this time. The regular speed was so gentle she could almost fall asleep while walking. This thought struck her as possibly dangerous. What if she did happen to fall asleep while the suit continued forward without her attention? Would it stop if obstacles were in the way, a wall or a hole? She would have to test these things before relying upon it.

She set it to walk only as far as she could see forward, repeating when necessary. This also gave her something to do occasionally. It was at least better than doing nothing but walking. Having already walked nearly 300 miles all alone had taxed her will to the limits. There was still nothing living. Two more days passed in this fashion.

"How long have I been out here? Please, please let there be somepony around here, anypony at all. I can't stand it anymore!" Her loneliness and frustration were taking a terrible toll. When she thought of adventure she imagined excitement. This was the exact opposite of exciting, and becoming more frightening as her water ran lower.

"I don't want to be alone anymore." She looked up to the gray sky. Her dad told many stories. Some were about the sun and moon. Neither of these things she had ever seen. He said plants grew much better when the sun could freely shine upon the soil. Her old story book did contain stylized depictions of them, but what did they really look like? He said it felt so good and warm to be in the suns light. How could you feel the sun? She thought it was a silly joke. He also said the moon was cold and distant but beautiful, and shined its own kind of light in the dark. What did he mean?

"Will I ever get to see any of the good things he talked about?" She sighed and moved on.

The difference in the land here was jarring. While it was not life it at least held the look of something other than the absolute desolation she trudged through for weeks now. An occasional piece of old useless machinery and wrecked and abandoned buildings here and there were becoming more common.

"Surely somepony must be around here somewhere?" Her hopes were rising.

"Just a little further. Just a little further." The occasional light squeal from the damaged leg joint increasingly bothered her as it got worse over hundreds of miles. It did not seem like it would fail, but what if it did?

It could probably still limp along if so, but it would be something she simply could not fix on her own. If anypony even could fix it.

"Does anypony even know how to fix things like this anymore?" She'd caught herself talking to herself more and more during her long empty walk. Her thirst was becoming a problem.

"I know I need to drink, but it's almost all gone. Wherever I'm going has to be here somewhere, it has to." Her father did not have time to tell her precisely where to look or even what the griffon she was to find looked like.

She'd never even seen an actual griffon, only knowing they were birdlike mercenaries. According to what he said anyway. She was also told never to sign a contract of any kind with them unless she could pay the agreed price.

"What if this griffon dad knew wants me to sign for his help? I only have this cap box. I don't think that's very much. I don't even know what anything is worth!" She could not help but wish her parents were still alive. She barely knew how to run their farm, and vaguely what the food they grew might be worth. Because it was fresh food it held more value than the awful tasting packages from almost two hundred years ago.

Sure they kept well enough, but they tasted like a powdered brick despite their labels. This made fresh food of any sort highly sought after by most. The sky was beginning its slow dimming into what was called nighttime. Again she'd found nopony at all, just more shattered farm buildings. This area must have been rife with them at some point.

"Guess I'm camping again. Better find a place to sleep." It did not take long to locate a safe looking area inside one of the mostly collapsed buildings. Judging by what remained it was probably a barn once. Stepping inside once again recalled memories of home.

Memories that were far happier than she would ever have guessed before being thrown from her life into this cruel world.

"This reminds me of home, but is that home anymore? Do I ever want to go there again?" Her sleep was troubled. She was so thirsty when she awoke she could not help it anymore and finished off what little remained.

"My head is killing me. Everything hurts, ohh. This is bad. There's not a single drop left. If I don't find this place soon I'm gonna drop dead.." As another mile passed by and another, her heart sank.

"There has got to be something around here somewhere doesn't there? Isn't there anything left anywhere Moonlight?" Just as she was about to give up and wait to die she thought there was some distant sound.

"I'm just imagining things, I must be dying already." The suits distance traveled counter indicated 323 miles from origin. Once more she engaged the automatic travel options.

"Dad said 327 miles. I'm almost there. Come on, move. Set direction." The terrible thought struck her that it was possible the suit could continue walking until it reached the destination with her dead body inside of it.

"Wouldn't that give everypony a horrible fright..hee." She found the idea highly amusing, if a bit creepy. She was also feeling a bit delirious.

"Better keep moving." The long trek was surely almost over, it had to be. Otherwise her long torment and effort to reach this horribly far off place would've been for nothing. Mile after dreary mile passed. She was really only letting the suit actions do the walking for her now. A few times she found herself choking abysmally. The thirst itself was painful. As she walked her muscles began to hurt and her limbs feel heavier. An occasional spasm of pain told her she was in a very bad state.

Her blurring and occasionally doubling vision was an even greater cause for concern.

"It hurts!" She moaned pathetically. She recalled something her father said.

"What did he say? When you need to get something done and you're hurt, get it done first. If you can't ignore the pain, pretend like you can and deal with it later." That sounded so silly to her when she first heard it. Now it was sage advice. She had to keep walking despite the pain wracking her body. What if her destination was just over the next hill? She would never know if she didn't keep going. One more step, and another.

Although the suit was mostly doing the walking for her, each one felt like it took all the might in the world to take. Her breaths were ragged and slow. She was finding it very difficult to keep her breathing even.

"Gotta focus." Her blurred vision made that hilarious somehow. Finding herself laughing and choking she knew this was not good. Over the time she'd spent using the suit travel options she realized it was possible to make it stop just by saying disengage which blinked in the opposite corner of her vision, if only she'd noticed it before. Even now the soreness from that run remained, making this even worse. Her thoughts turned to the long miles behind her.

"Would our farm even be home now? Could I live there knowing what happened? I don't think I'd feel good, maybe?" She pondered as she continued along. Gunshots in the distance drew her attention.

"Huh? Oh!" Gunshots meant other living things. Good or bad she didn't care at the moment. She would've run towards the sound but did not really have any stamina left to do so.

"I know I heard shooting, and even the air smelled different around here somehow." She could see the walls of something looming in the distance, and behind it a flat expanse of emptiness so vast she could not comprehend.

This area even felt populated. Tracks here and there confirmed it. As she approached she could see perched atop a squarish structure were griffons, even further above stood an enormous cannon. What looked to be three figures were just stepping out of view way off to the south. Her sheer joy at finally seeing something alive turned to dismay for a moment as a resounding order.

"HALT! Not a step closer." Caught her attention from above. Several of them were pointing dangerous looking weapons her way.

Uh-oh.

"Ranger, you better not be here to cause trouble or get in a fight with that other one!" Ranger? Other one? Fight? What was this griffon talking about?

"Who are you, and what do you want?" The one directly above asked. Her thoughts raced, searching for a response.

"Uh, I'm looking for Captain Theach?" She forgot how very deep her voice was coming through the old suit speaker, not sounding like her at all. Her voice was also ragged now from the lack of water.

"Your name?" What should she tell them? Should she be honest? Her dad warned her not to trust anypony in the wastes without being absolutely sure. What to say?

"My name's.. Traveler." Slipped out. A name from her book. That seemed to be enough for them.

"You stay right there, pony. Do not move." These griffons did not appear too friendly. To herself she could only hope this would be alright. She couldn't help but feel awed at seeing them though, never having met one before. They looked regal and powerful, if a bit grizzled. This was taking an awfully long time, what were they doing?

"Oh dad, I hope you were right about me coming here.." She whispered to herself. A new one alighted atop the wall. He seemed authoritative. Much like her father was.

"Well, what is it?" Oh boy. Looking at the small crowd of them she felt intimidated.

"Could I talk to you alone?" He looked at her incredulously. Oh no oh no. Her heart raced.

"Well isn't this interesting? The rest of you stay here. If he does anything stupid hit him with everything you've got." Did she hear that right?

"He? They must think I'm a stallion!" she mumbled to herself.

"You say something?" Suddenly the griffon flew the distance over to her, landing to the side. Must be to keep a line of sight open to his friends she thought, so they could shoot her. Oh dear. She spoke much quieter.

"I uh, mister Theach?" He appeared a little perplexed.

"Mister? hahahahahaha. I needed a good laugh. Listen pony, get to the point." He was very direct.

"You knew my father." His gaze almost felt like it went right through the suit.

"Yeah, so? I know every pony and griffon in these parts." She decided just to keep going.

"His name was Silver Quick." The captains expression turned dark immediately, turning he waved off the other griffons who mostly vanished off the walls instantly. Only one remained at the open gate.

"What do you mean, was? You better start explaining, he only had a daughter." He thought she was a stallion too, hee. Did they think she was a unicorn as well? Being a bit young still, she thought this was hilarious.

"Oh, there is a bit of a misunderstanding here. I am his daughter. It's just this old suit speaker.." He rubbed his head.

"You don't say? Tell me what happened." He bid her explain. A short while and a few stifled sobs later she finished explaining her situation, the strange reason behind her parents murder, the long lonely trip through the wastes.

"You survived coming straight here from there? You really are your father's daughter. There are things out there that could've torn even that walking tin can to shreds." There were? She didn't tell him she'd encountered nothing the whole time. Did she just get really lucky? Or really unlucky? She felt terribly weak now that her heart stopped racing.

"Sir?, I could use some water. I'm really really thirsty.." She looked back towards the now mostly empty cart.

"Of course, of course. Follow me." He marched ahead of her as she trailed behind. The griffons inside looked a bit shocked to see a second armored pony being allowed through to the command room with the captain in as many weeks. Things were certainly active around here lately. He bid her leave the cart just outside, no one would touch it. She was glad none of them could see how nervous she was inside the tough looking armor. The captain closed and locked the door behind. She didn't know what to expect. "You can climb out of that thing now, I know how it is, Traveler you called yourself?" She nodded.

"Keep it, kid. It's a good name, I like it." He finished. She liked the sound of his voice. He set about getting her a whole lot of water and returned. Traveler sat down as she tapped out the open command and it hissed apart at the back, clambering out of the suit. She was definitely getting better at climbing in and out, but it was still awkward without assistance.

"Don't drink it all at once or you'll just get sick, slowly." She walked over and found it hard not to gulp, almost gagging. After four large mugs full to the brim she finally started to feel better.

"I met you once when you were very little. Now let's get a good look at you." His gaze was piercing, she felt like he was looking at the wall behind her, taking in every inch, analyzing, gauging.

"Not bad, Silver." Huh?

"What?" He smiled, what she thought passed for smiling anyway.

"You're father did me a tremendous service once. He refused payment. In place of it he asked that if you ever needed help with anything I try to assist you in any way I reasonably can." She could feel her thoughts becoming more clear while he spoke. The water tasted like it'd been drawn from heaven as the last drops went down.

"So, what do you need? Also, why not leave the rest thinking you're a stallion for a while? Keep things interesting." Was he serious? Did he have some reason for that thought other than amusement?

"I..my dad had an idea.." Was all she could think of. He looked intensely interested.

"We were going to try to find a book." The captain took a shot of something she did not get a clear look at from an old looking bottle, promptly sliding it back under the desk. She might have been imagining it but thought the brief flash of the bottle label she caught said Maremark Whiskey Blend.

"A book? That's a strange thing to be looking for. You won't find too many books around here, or anywhere else I imagine." She was ever so glad just to be talking to anyone again. Her belly hadn't felt so full in a long time.

She coughed heavily.

"It's called the Farmers Almanac. We had pieces of it, but some of the important parts were missing. We were gonna try to find the parts or a whole copy of it if possible, but I don't even know where to start! I don't even know if dad really did either. Can you help me, Mister Theach?" He made a slight sighing sound like he was holding back laughter.

"Just call me cap or captain, or sir." She nodded.

"As for your request, I don't know. We've never been asked to look for or retrieve a book before. Give me a day to look into it." It was something.

"Thank you, sir." She said weakly.

"As a matter of practicality, you smell awful." Traveler felt rather embarrassed, she hadn't thought about the fact a few weeks passed since she last got cleaned up at all.

"You may use one of the showers here once, after that you''ll have to pay up like everyone else if you want to use them again." That sounded great.

"Hop back in that thing and come with me. I'll show you to a little-used room in the barracks." Deftly she climbed back into the now very familiar stealth suit.

"What about my cart?" She did not want to lose the few possessions she had.

"Don't worry about your stuff. We are mercenaries, not thieves. Not one of my group will touch it." That was good to know.

"I didn't mean.." He shushed her.

"I know you've had it tough, Traveler. I will pay my debt to your father by helping you where I may. It can't be too much though, understand?" She wasn't quite used to being called that yet.

"I understand." The griffons outside once again watched sidelong as they strolled towards the barracks. She could not tell if it was how they normally all looked or if they were disturbed by this. Once inside he showed her into a seemingly unused section of the barracks.

"No one comes back here. Don't know what this room was used for either and it's quite a mess, but you can have it for tonight. Shower is there, use it." She felt better already.

"Thank you, sir." She slipped into the room.

The heavy door could be locked from the inside which she did. Picking a spot to slip out of the suit she turned to take a better look. He wasn't kidding about this room being a mess, didn't anypony ever clean up in here at all? There were old metal boxes strewn about, most looking terrible. Moldy bits of ancient paper and various bits of things stuck to the walls and floor. It must have been fairly nice once. Now it was a nearly total mess. There was an old mattress on rails against the far wall but it looked black on top. She didn't really want to touch it but it would be nice to have something soft to lay on for a change. Deciding to flip it over before using the shower she found it was not so bad, just a little dusty.

Patting it off took a while, causing her to choke a bit on the dust. Eventually it was clean enough to lay on.

"Oh, I can't believe I'm alive. I really am here right, I'm not dreaming am I?" She poked herself.

"Oww. Yeah, this is real. I made it, dad." Realizing she was crying again she stepped into the shower. The slightly warm water felt wonderful, she'd never used a shower like this before. It was amazing what the old world once had in abundance. She let it wash away what felt like gallons of tears as she cleaned herself up. Finally they subsided and she turned it off, heading to bed.

For the first time in a long while Traveler slept soundly. She fell into a deep and dreamless sleep, safe and comfortable. When she finally awoke again she felt energized and ready to face the world once more. There was also the heavy knocking on the door. "Huh?" Without thinking she opened it to find the captain standing there with a small box.

"Captain?" He stepped in and closed the door which barely missed his tail. She thought to herself that could have been really painful.

"Are you alright, Traveler?" What?

"Why wouldn't I be alright?" This was a bit confusing.

"You haven't come out in three days." Three days!? How?

"I, what?" Did she really sleep that long?

"I slept for three days?" Around this time she realized it must be true as her stomach growled terribly.

"I figured you'd need something by now, here. Also, you look and smell a whole lot better." He nodded his approval. She felt her cheeks flush. He set the box on a small dusty corner table with a bowl.

"No one here eats this stuff and no one will buy this or the other 9 boxes of it either so it's all yours. I hear they taste like rotten apples or something, enjoy." Rotten apples, what?

"And if you do decide to keep the fact your actually a mare a secret do be more careful. Come see me when you're ready." He slipped out the door, it just missed his tail again.

"Guess he was serious about that suggestion, should I keep pretending to be a stallion? Why would I? But he seems to think it's a good idea. I better think about this. He must have a good reason to keep suggesting it, right?" She couldn't understand why he might want her to keep pretending. Her stomach growled deeply again.

"I feel pretty hungry. I've never slept for three days before. I hope this stuff is edible, whatever it is." She poured some into the bowl. She noticed he'd also set a bottle of water on the little table. Looking at the box she couldn't really make out the ancient lettering. Lower on the box she could just see 'Full of applelike goodness!' Applelike? Each piece looked like a small o with little holes in them. She ventured to take a bite.

"Eeugh. These don't taste like apples, these don't taste like apples at all." Her parents farm had only a single stunted apple tree, there weren't many and didn't taste that great but these things were ancient and terrible, just sickly sweet enough she could manage to eat them.

She did not feel particularly good to her stomach afterwards for a while, but at least she wasn't hungry anymore. She was not quite sure if it was because of being full or because she feared eating more.

"Wait, did he say 9 more boxes?" The thought made her tremble a bit. She sipped the water from the bottle. It tasted so much better after that.

"Right, guess I better go talk to him. I feel like I owe him so much already though." She felt stiff, but so much better now. Traveler looked over the armored suit.

"You've seen better days too, Moonlight. We're both a bit worse for wear. Let's go, friend." She slipped into the suit once more. As she left the barracks the griffons that were present once again watched intently as she passed. She was glad to be out the door and on her way to the command room. The left hind joint still occasionally let loose a low dangerous sounding squeal.

"Don't give out on me now, Moonlight. I need you." She knew it was silly to talk to a machine, but somehow still felt like it was listening. Upon entering she found the captain sitting behind his desk.

"There you are, I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?" Okay, well, bad news is tempered by good news right? So, bad news first.

"The bad news?" He pointed at a very old looking map.

"Here are a few possible locations you might go looking for your book." This was bad news?

"The closest one even remotely likely to have it is 600 miles from here." Oh no.

"That is pretty bad. What's the good news?" He pointed at the door which was now opening.

"Him." She turned to look and gasped quietly.

An armored pony stepped in.

"Say hello to Down Range." The strangely black armor he wore looked vaguely similar to her own, but it seemed built to withstand far more punishment.

"Umm, hi." She almost felt intimidated even inside Moonlight, standing next to this behemoth.

"I don't know why, but he has expressed an interest in you after seeing you arrive the other day." She did not even see him then, but she was very out of it when she got here, almost to the point of not believing this was even real.

"I have managed to convince him to assist in your search. It's up to you, but you can't do much better than having more heavy armor along. You should appreciate it." Traveler was a little nervous once again.

"I do, sir. Very much." She looked at the heavy suit, imagining that Moonlight would last a while, but not long if pitted against such a thing.

"The old maps are almost useless, but they do tell what used to be in certain areas at least." The captain explained. While she looked the suit display was showing overlay lines on the map and calculating distances.

The final message displayed stated mission parameters set. How did it know what they were going to do? Moonlight was even more amazing than she thought. She noticed Down Range hadn't actually said anything yet.

"Now, there are a couple more matters to discuss." What now?

"Just before your arrival we sent off a group on a mission. The route they decided to take would pass very close to one of your potential search sites. Your choice, but if you follow the same route you might catch up with them and get their help checking it out. They have a couple days head start on you. If you head out now, judging by how fast you seem to be able to travel you should be able to catch up inside three to seven days." The captain was doing so much for her she was surprised.

How much did he actually owe her father? She decided it would not be the best time to ask with another pony around.

"I will give you a token that proves I sent you. Also, your cart has those boxes of food, such as it is, in it. However, I can only provide you with water if you pay from here on." Traveler was not entirely sure how many caps were in her box and didn't want to part with them without being certain it was worth it.

"I will pay." The armored pony finally spoke. She wasn't really sure through the muffle of his armor but his voice sounded slightly effeminate to her, it almost seemed familiar somehow, though it might just be her imagination.

It seemed unusually nice of somepony she just met to pay for something for her. They didn't even know what each other looked like. The captain accompanied them outside. After refilling her water containers and adding a few more the cart looked decently full of supplies once again. A far cry from her arrival when it was practically empty. She was not at all fond of the foodstuff, but it was free and filling, if barely tolerable. Traveler also realized the other pony probably did not pay for the water just for the sake of being nice. They would be sharing the supplies after all. Why was he at all interested in what she was doing anyway? She could only think to herself maybe he found her suit interesting.

No, that didn't seem to make any sense. He was wearing something much better as far as she could tell. She thought if she had a suit like his back at the farm she would've marched straight back with it and destroyed the horrible pony that attacked her parents. At this moment she also realized she wasn't really sad anymore but angry. So very very angry at that awful pony. This felt so strange to her she had to take a deep breath. She never truly hated anything in her entire life, except perhaps the fact that life didn't seem that good. If she'd known how horrible things could become she would never have felt that way at all.

Her terrifying trip through just one section of the wastes was enough to teach her how daunting and lonely the world could be.

"You take good care of that pony or you will answer to me." The captain pointed at Down Range. Traveler slipped under the harness bars once more.

"Great, more walking." She absently said as they set out. This was going to be an even longer trip than she just endured and probably even more dangerous, but at least she would have company this time she thought to herself.

Feeling much better after her long rest she found it all rather exciting. This was more like it. Not the adventure she wanted, but she couldn't think of anything else to do for the moment. Other thoughts swirled in her head as she thanked the captain and headed out the gate with the other armored pony. She could only hope she was making the right decision taking him along. She knew nothing about him. The captain didn't seem to know him either. Maybe he was just bored too? What did it matter? They would probably never find what she was looking for. If by some miracle pieces or a copy of the book was located could she even make use of it? Did she even want to ever return to the farm that had been her home? Could she?

Running that place alone would be very hard. These thoughts were painful. What if the horrible ponies were still there?

"They were after something." She muttered. The other pony tilted his head towards her inquisitively.

"Nothing. Guess we should get as far as we can today." He'd obtained his weapons from storage, looking even more dangerous. He still barely spoke, only nodding. As she looked at him the suit display was showing the weapon types attached to his armor. One displayed only as a question mark. That was strange, or was it? She didn't actually know if it was or not. What did he look like under there anyway? Then again he didn't know what she looked like either.

This bothered her a bit as they only knew each others name thus far, not even her real one. At this moment she realized how ironic this was considering she never knew her own parents real names either. Did he also think she was a stallion? Maybe this could be fun for a while after all. How long could she keep it a secret anyway? Maybe a day or two at most if she could come up with excuses to eat and drink alone? It would still be amusing to see their reaction. Traveler knew this was incredibly silly. She needed silly right now. Her whole life was suddenly uprooted in a single night as she was thrown out into the world alone and very unprepared. The idea that anypony would think she was a stallion was as silly as she could imagine.

Her attention shifted to the suit display which now showed several new things such as distance to mission zones. She really could not understand how it knew. She was also very reluctant to tell her new companion how unfamiliar she was with her armors full capabilities. So far things actually went better than expected. For some reason he insisted on following instead of walking along beside. Even with him marching along behind it felt a bit lonely.

"This certainly isn't conducive to becoming friends is it? I guess I have to start somewhere." Traveler thought to herself as the day passed. At least she wasn't in pain or thirsty anymore.

Until she was given the water and a chance to recover she hadn't quite realized just how close she was to actually dying. Another day or two without would surely have been too much.

"I nearly died. I hope I'm doing the right thing going after this book dad wanted." But did he really want it? Did he even expect they would ever have found it? Not having another plan left this as her only idea.

"At least it is a plan, and I've got nothing better to do, right?" It was easier to think now. Her thoughts when she was running out of water were noticeably slower and jumbled.

"Why didn't I just die with them? It would have been easier. No, that's just stupid. They would have wanted me to try to have a life at least." Still feeling angry about it all she kept up a very fast pace that day. A couple times it looked as though Down Range was trailing further behind, but he kept within visual distance. She'd noticed earlier anything friendly the display indicated with a deeper blue mark. How did it know that either?

"As long as it works." Eventually she tired and halted. Her anger finally subsided for now.

"I think this is far enough for today, don't you?" She queried her companion as he caught up.

He actually responded for a change.

"Yes. I was beginning to think you'd never stop." That was a surprising statement. Had she really pushed that far today? Looking at the suit distance traveled indicator startled her. They'd covered over 40 miles in one day. No wonder she felt so fatigued, hungry and thirsty now. That would have closed a significant amount of space between them and the group the captain mentioned. They might even catch up with them by tomorrow, much sooner than expected. The token the captain gave them as identification was a pre-war bit. She'd only seen one of them before.

Caps were generally used though these still held some value. This one was engraved on the back with a small symbol in the shape of a griffon eye with little marks around it. The stamping along the bottom edge read 'Commemorative Issue'. The rest of the text was illegible. The bits once shined a golden hue. Now they were quite dull and tarnished with age. The wastes were kind to nothing.

"Would you mind if we camped a bit apart for tonight? I kinda just lost everything and need some time alone. I'll get you when I'm ready to go." He nodded, taking some water with him.

His suit had two hefty saddlebags which probably contained his own food. There was plenty of food now.

"Yeah, so much to eat." She looked at one of the boxes forlornly.

"I'm going to become intimately familiar with this stuff aren't I?" She settled herself and the cart behind a small rise.

"I can't believe we got this far already. I better slow down a little tomorrow. No need to wear myself out." They were warned to skirt Fillydelphia as much as possible. They would pass just within view of the ancient city.

"I've never seen a real city before. I wonder what it looks like? Probably like everywhere else." She said.

The route chosen by the group they were chasing would not come near the potential site for at least a couple of weeks giving more than enough leeway to catch up. The other group would not be pushing as fast anyway. For now, this left no real leeway in their route. Unless the other group deviated from their chosen path they would definitely find them sooner or later. There should be no reason for that to happen. She braced herself and ate some of the bland crunchy food, at least it would be crunchy if it was new, she thought. It kept as well as other packaged food from long ago with their promising labels of something known as flavor.

"This is kind of like eating something that used to be hard, but now it's soft and gritty. Maybe it would be better if I made it wet?" Sprinkling a few drops of water on it only had the effect of making it less dry. The taste remained terrible.

"I always thought we ate badly on the farm. I was so wrong." She forced down what she could stand.

"I might as well get used to it. I have..lots. Which is better than not having anything." She thought. Full as it was the cart would not afford her a place to sleep. Instead she could only find as comfortable a position as possible. She was relaxed but rest would not come easy.

"Uhg. Well, I did just sleep for three days straight." She tossed and fidgeted for a great deal of time before finally falling into a dreamless slumber. When she finally slept it was with great relief. Awaking slowly in the morning she dusted herself off and sighed.

"There is no getting around it. I have nopony at all. Can I even trust the one I'm traveling with? At least the captain seemed kinda friendly?" She felt very energetic. This was really happening. They were going looking for something that may not even exist. It was exciting and scary and worrying all at the same time.

Gazing at the food boxes her choice was to skip breakfast.

"I'm not hungry anyway." After her last experience with water she decided to ration hers from the outset. Never again did she want to feel that terrible thirst and dryness in her throat. Deciding to play around with the strange silver ball for a while was amusing but pressing the indented button did not yield any further reaction. She could not get it to open or respond.

"Does this thing need power or what? Can't make it open." She tugged and pulled at the seem which wouldn't budge. It was more interesting when it did something anyway.

Tucking it back in safely she slipped back into her armor and headed over to find her traveling companion.

"Now where did he get off too?" She wondered. Unlike the other friendly markers the display showed his location marked with an additional 'A' for some reason. It did not take long to find him. He was already up as well.

"Oh, there you are. I'm ready to go if you are." He was looking out to the east.

"Something interesting?" Traveler thought perhaps if she could get him into some kind of conversation it might help.

"You can just see the outskirts of what's left of Manehattan. I used to live there..a long time ago." Far away she could just see the vague outlines of some jagged buildings.

Crumbling as they were, compared to what she was used to they looked imposing and immense.

"Ponies used to build things like that!?" She thought she heard a very slight chuckle from him but could have been mistaken.

"We should go." With that he turned and began walking.

"So much for conversation." She thought to herself. He quickly fell in behind again as they walked.

"Why won't he at least walk alongside me? I have no idea what to say. Oh forget it." Her mood was not very good.

Dreary hour after hour passed in this fashion. Aside from buildings in the distance there was nothing much to see. She stopped when they ran across a piece of a strange criss-crossed metal track in the ground, letting Down Range catch up with her.

"What's that?" This actually got a laugh out of him. Huh?

"You don't know what a train track is?" A what?

"Big steel travel machines that run on steam or even spark battery banks use them to carry passengers. If they broke down earth pony teams would even just pull them. They run all over Eques..." That was a strange pause.

"There used to be tracks all over Equestria." Was there a hint of sadness in his words? It was so hard to tell through the muffle. While he spoke she noticed there was a small square outline on the front of his armor. Seeing the armor up closer like this she got the distinct impression it should be a different color. Should she ask about it?

"Wow. Ponies used to have such neat stuff." He didn't say anything to that as they resumed their trek.

"At least he actually said something that time. That's good, right?" Having very little experience with other ponies she was quite unsure what was acceptable or expected. Was this kind of reaction normal?

Interaction with only her family and the few ponies in the small town simply did not prepare her for this or tell her what she could expect of others.

"I wonder what a train looked like?" She imagined an immense steel wheeled juggernaut belching steam and fire rolling along the ancient tracks.

"Whoa. That's awesome." She giggled to herself. At least it was to her.

"I hope this group we're trying to meet up with is more talkative." She absently said to herself. Would they be though? Would they even actually want to help?

"Why is he so quiet anyway? Always walking behind like that is kinda creepy. Why does he seem kinda familiar anyway? I know I've never met him before." The walking was still more bearable with company, quiet as he was. He was told to protect her, he would do that wouldn't he?

"Well he is my escort, but what does he really get out of this? Did the captain give him anything to come with me? Dad said not to trust anypony but myself. He trusted that griffon so he must know what to do, right?" Traveler spoke only to herself as Down Range hung almost too far behind as usual.

"This is still better than being alone. I hated that so so much. I wonder if we can be friends? I've never had a real friend." She did have to make friends somehow, but truly did not have any idea how to go about it.

"How do you do this? How long do you have to know somepony before you can call them a friend? How do you know when you're friends? This is hopeless. My story book was about friends, not how to get them." For a few hours she trudged along at a normal pace, watching the scenery slowly pass by. Looking up she saw the tattered remains of a sign laying off to the side stating 'Filly..' Fillydelphia was that way. Moonlight was still very stealthy, she felt well hidden despite the rare squeal from the worsening joint.

"You can't be friends with a machine, can you? I don't understand it, but somehow this suit has felt friendly ever since I got it. How can a machine feel friendly?" This did feel nice if disconcerting from time to time.

"I must be out of my mind with desperation. Am I going crazy?" She worried very deeply about how to befriend somepony as they wandered down the route. The way they traveled did not have any particular trail or road. Ancient pieces of posts or destroyed pavement were here and there. Never having seen a proper road left her very impressed when they did come across a wide intact chunk of one.

"Ponies used to make such amazing things, how could they have let it all be destroyed like this?" She didn't see her escort catching up as she mused.

"Because they didn't think it was possible to lose." She jumped slightly.

"I didn't hear you coming." Now she felt a little embarrassed. Her father would have admonished to pay attention to her surroundings.

"No pony or zebra won the war. All of this is the result. We lost so much." Her father did tell her about the huge war between them so many years ago, but he didn't really know that much about it.

"You say that like you were there." She said absently.

"I..no, no just thinking." Huh? That was an odd response.

"We are approaching a small settlement. One of the ponies there may have seen the other group." He pointed ahead. There were several small shacks and what passed for shelter built of just about anything.

"This is a settlement? This place is even smaller than Far Side." It looked abandoned.

"Is anypony even here?" Looking around she saw a pony duck out of sight behind one of the tiny shacks.

"Hello? We aren't going to hurt anypony. You can come out." A dirty pony with a dull yellow coat cautiously peered over a piece of debris.

"Uh, I know we look a bit intimidating. Please come out?" Slowly other sullen and absolutely ragged looking ponies peeked and seemed to appear out of the woodwork.

"What do you want?" They did look scared.

"We were just wondering if you saw two ponies and a griffon come by here in the last few days?" Traveler asked, trying to be quiet. These ponies looked spooked and wary.

"Yes, they went by here just about fourteen hours ago. They went to see Doremi." The yellow-coated mare spoke while looking down. They were close. Were these ponies really so scared of just two ponies in armor?

"You can find him that way, the big shack." She pointed off to the southwest.

"Well, thank you." She thought it best to politely thank them. They walked on as the ponies slipped out of sight once more.

"Was it just me or were they awfully scared?" She looked to Down Range.

"Ponies have good reasons to be scared these days." He really did say very little. She decided to push a little more.

"You don't say much do you?" Of course she couldn't see his face under that armor to read his expression, maybe this was the wrong time to ask?

"Not anymore." What did he mean by that? With this he simply continued walking.

"Did I make a mistake? Maybe I shouldn't have asked so soon, or maybe that didn't mean anything to him at all?" She fretted to herself as they approached the large shack. Compared to the others this shack almost seemed colorful.

Knocking on the strangely thick door did not yield an immediate response.

"Maybe their not in?" She knocked again. A moment later a sound from inside like scraping and a thousand pieces of wood breaking at the same time was heard.

"Did you hear that?" A few seconds later the door squeaked terribly as it opened on the ancient hinges. A pony she could barely see wearing what looked like a ripped, faded and worn business suit from one of the few old depictions in her story book eyed them suspiciously.

"Who comes seekiagauhgh.." He stepped forward and tripped out the door onto the ground. They both looked down at him, a brimmed hat adorned with very frail looking feathers floated down onto his head.

"Oh my, are you alright?" She asked. He got up and straightened his hat to reveal a gigantic pair of glasses that seemed to wrap around his entire head. Dusting himself off he continued,

"Of course I'm alright. I am the great Doremifasolatido." The what did he say? He gaped a moment upon seeing them properly.

"You look tough. You want the job too?" He looked back and forth between them.

"What job?" She was curious. He backed inside a moment, fumbling around in some box off to the side of the entrance.

"I have heard there once were some amazing pony music performers and composers in the old days. I either want to find some of their music or their written scores. Any will do, but these in particular I will pay more for. Interested?" It couldn't really hurt to know what he was looking for.

"Sure, I guess." At this he read off of a very old and overused piece of parchment.

"Find me any ancient data discs, memory crystals, or even scrolls with the musical notes or performances of any of these ponies and you will be well-rewarded when you return. Their names are Neightoven, Balk, Tchaiclopsky, Marezart, and Frenetic Marecury." The last name sounded funny.

"Sure. Why not?" Traveler didn't know what some of that stuff even was but agreed anyway. A small box marked 'Tertiary' showed up in the bottom left of her vision. Huh?

"I have asked a few other ponies to look as well. Anything like that will not be easy to find." He closed the box.

"By the way, have you seen two ponies and a griffon go by here?" She quickly added.

"Those two adventure seekers? Yes they passed by here just some time ago with a sour looking griffon. Said they were going somewhere very far away. I told them about the job too." Adventure seekers?

"Do you know which way they went?" His nod was vigorous.

"One of them was wearing the oddest thing. They headed into the great territories beyond." His motion affirmed they were still keeping to the chosen route and should be relatively easy to catch up with now.

"They should serve as an inspiration to us all. Their success in completing that most difficult task I gave them is what prompted me to look for these once more." Once more?

"I return to my own musical endeavors now." He closed the door on his other foreleg.

"Aaah!" The door popped back open slightly.

"Are you okay?" Traveler asked.

"Of course I'm okay! I am the great.." Down Range interrupted him.

"We know." the door slipped closed with a squealing bang.

"Well that was..interesting." She couldn't help but say. He said little else as they pressed on. She knew by now it was common for him not to respond to much. Was something wrong with him, or was he just always like this?

"I don't know how to talk to anypony. Was any of that normal? I don't know." She was beginning to feel at least more comfortable out in the world. She was doing well so far, right?

"I could be doing worse, couldn't I? I reached that base all by myself, and now I am off on an adventure. This is an adventure isn't it? I don't know, this would feel better if I was with dad wouldn't it?" For the moment she was glad her escort could not see her face or how sad she was.

She was finally letting herself truly grieve for her parents as they traveled. It was good to let it out. He wouldn't hear her crying back there.

"Am I doing okay daddy?" Traveler thought she was doing well, considering what happened.

"I think I am. So far anyway, dad." She could just imagine his imposing cloaked form standing there, telling her how proud he was of her.

"Silly. I'm never going to see mom or dad again." Eventually the tears subsided.

In their place a grim determination to succeed in fulfilling her fathers dreams of helping make the world a better place took hold. She stopped, waiting for her escort to catch up.

"Down Range." He stopped beside her.

"Yes?" This had to stop. She needed to know more about him.

"We should camp here. We will surely catch up with them sometime tomorrow anyway." He nodded.

"Also, I need to talk to you about something." She intoned as calmly as could be mustered.

He stood there quiet as always while she unhooked herself from the cart. How should she go about this? Nothing for it.

"Alright, look. I am just going to be perfectly honest." Sitting Moonlight down she tapped out the exit command and climbed out. Seeing her he practically stumbled backwards.

"You're an earth pony!? You're a mare!? You're..you're gorgeous!" What? Traveler felt her cheeks flush and her heart flutter. Nopony had ever called her a mare before. Was she really getting that grown up? She definitely wasn't expecting that.

"I, umm.." She stuttered for a second. She finally managed to continue.

"Ahem. My parents were killed and I'm all alone now, and I don't know anypony or anything about anything and I'm scared and alone and and..." She was yammering and almost crying. He seemed to just stand there listening until he reached up to his helmet and pressed a latch under the neck making it give off a slight hiss then tugged gently to the left making it hiss and release.

"Huh?" As he slipped it off his head she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"It can't be. You look like the pony in that book. You must be hundreds of years old!" He was stunning.

"Something like that." He said dully. Noticing that small square on the front of his armor again she reached out and slowly rubbed off the black to reveal 'Magnificent'.

"It really is you! How can you be you!?" She felt slightly lightheaded from the revelation.

"I am sorry a beautiful young filly like you lost your family." She blushed quite hard.

"I lost the entire world." Magnificent stared at the ground.

"But, how are you here? I thought you were just a character in an old book I found a long time ago." As he stripped off his armor the awkward explanations back and forth followed.

He really was for lack of a better word, magnificent. The book she saw was good, but had not done him justice. Removing his armor took a significant amount of slow effort. Traveler carefully watched how he did it. It looked easier to take that stuff off and put back on, but more tedious than just climbing in and out of Moonlight.

"So, you were being punished? It doesn't sound like you even did anything that bad.." He smiled. That smile was so alluring. He's really cute. Wait, what was she thinking?

"I suppose compared to what happened to everypony else I was let off kind of easy." His smile faded quickly.

"I guess we are sort of in the same boat then." Sighing he looked up at the endlessly clouded sky.

"I also suppose I can't blame the pegasi for blocking off the world below them. They must have suffered terribly as well." It never really occurred to her that they must be suffering too. Her father didn't seem very happy with his own kind. Magnificent rubbed some black dirt over the nameplate on his armor.

"They actually did make the comic with me in it? Did they get my good side? Of course that's every side..Was it good?" She certainly thought it was.

"I think so." She was still reeling a bit from this.

"Why were you hiding who you are?" He sighed as she asked this question.

"Why are you?" Oh. Traveler felt a tad silly now. Wait, how did he know? Was he truly that perceptive?

"Why are you interested in me?" He did not respond for a moment.

"I have no one, and nowhere to be. You have a very unusual suit of armor there. I thought mine was the only unique one. Yours might also be dangerous." Dangerous? Also? How could Moonlight be dangerous? It saved her life, she never could have made it this far without it. He sat there with his head down, looking like nothing more than a lump.

"One day I was a General in the equestrian army. The next I woke up alone, surrounded by monsters. The princesses I served, my world, my hopes and dreams..all of it gone. Not two days after awaking to this horror the first actual ponies I ran across ambushed and tried to kill me. They made me..." As he trailed off this pony did not sound like the Magnificent depicted in the old comic she happened across. He sounded whipped, broken. Much like she had felt only a few days prior and still did to a degree. An idea started forming in her head.

"You." He looked at her curiously. She thought about the comic and how it portrayed him, his slightly arrogant but fiery attitude and demeanor. Was any of it true, and could she use that somehow? Only one way to find out.

"Aren't you Magnificent? One of the bravest, most handsome and powerful ponies in all of Equestria? You say your world is gone. So is mine. Why don't you help me rebuild it?" This might be working.

"Rebuild it, how? It's all gone!" He did sound beaten. She did not know what the old world was really like. What she did know is that she needed to do something, start somewhere. Following what her father wanted to do still seemed like a good idea. Looking for the book was a good place to start at least. Having a pony like this wholeheartedly on her side would be very helpful. She just had to convince him it was worthwhile and possible.

In her story book friends found common interests and goals to share, dreams to strive towards achieving even if they seemed impossible and far away. Maybe this could be her first chance to make a real friend? She didn't know or not, but she could not think of the captain as a friend. Maybe he only helped because he owed something to her father?

"But it's not all gone. You're here, aren't you?" Traveler truly wanted to have friends, and hoped this would be enough to begin with. It was so hard to tell. She spoke carefully.

"My dad had an idea. Maybe it isn't the best idea, but it would be a start. I can't do it alone. I need help. Help from ponies like you, if you're interested?" He appeared less depressed already.

"What was this idea, and how do you think it'll help rebuild the world?" Traveler relayed what they would be searching for while his interest seemed to be piquing.

"It's so simple. I never realized how important something so mundane as growing food could be. In my time there was so much of everything." His eyes seemed to have just a bit more light in them. Those beautiful eyes. There she went again. She shook her head. He was obviously still distraught and depressed. They both knew pain.

"Will you help me, Magnificent?" She asked. He looked lost in thought for a couple moments. Slowly he gave a nod as he sighed.

"I suppose the pony known as Magnificent is no more. I know almost nopony would recognize me like you and that other one did, but let's keep who I really am between us for the moment, okay?" This poor pony had lost even more than she had. Despite her own this left her feeling a great sadness for him.

"Thank you, thank you!" Unexpectedly she gave him a warm hug leaving him very surprised. Ever so slowly he returned it for a long moment. As they slipped apart he spoke.

"No, thank you for showing me I can have a purpose here. In the army I swore an oath to protect and help the innocent, ponies or not. Maybe I can still do this." She beamed a smile at him.

"I'm sorry the first ponies you met were..bad. We're not all like that. I think." She found herself smiling, doing so felt unfamiliar. After this they spent a great deal of time telling each other what they knew about the world and how different it was to each others. Of course he could not tell her everything in a single night. It would take many such stories to tell all he knew. Traveling together as they were would hopefully give ample opportunity for that.

"Wow! Dad told me some stories he knew, but you were really there. He even told mom and me what the sun looks like because he saw it, but..." Tears welled up in her eyes. He looked at her in concern.

"Daddy..mom.." This time she could just let it all out. This adventure they were setting out on was supposed to be with her father. Something they would have shared. Memories they would have held together. She felt embarrassed letting Magnificent see this, but just couldn't hold it back at all anymore. Traveler thought she was done with crying. She rubbed her eyes.

"Sorry you have to see this." She stammered to him.

"Go ahead, it's fine. You'll feel better." He did work his way up through the army, and knew when somepony just couldn't hold back anymore.

She sobbed and moaned for a long time, burying her face in her hooves. Finally raising her head she felt so drained, but definitely a little better.

"Does it ever stop hurting?" Her voice was weak. He sighed deeply.

"No. It will get easier I promise, but it will never stop hurting." She could tell he was being honest and knew.

"We should get rested. From here on out things will probably get a lot more dangerous. We should set a watch. One of us must always be awake, alert and armed at all times." He started putting his armor back on.

"I will take the first watch. I'll wake you for yours in 5 hours. Try to get some sleep." He slipped the helmet down over his head and horn. A small hiss could be heard as it latched.

"Call me Down Range from now on. At least for the moment." He looked truly intimidating in that blackened armor. She found herself wondering what it looked like when it wasn't covered in char. Maybe she would see sometime. Traveler ate a bit and settled in. Just this one time she drank more water than she planned on. She needed it.

"Just this once. We have such a long way to go. This probably isn't even enough to get there and back. What if it's not there? Then we have to go even further." She shuddered at the thought.

Something he'd said during their conversation came to mind, giving her an idea.

"We shouldn't go near Fillydelphia he said, but what about Baltimare? I know I saw it on the map. It was a great city too and would have had libraries, at least one right?" She really should have asked why the griffons did not suggest there as a search site. Knowing there was a pony like this standing guard she slept very soundly. At the sound of him trudging closer she awoke before he even said he was there.

"My watch already?" She stretched and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, realizing it wasn't him through the blur but some vaguely red-coated pony standing over her she let out a high-pitched scream.

"Aaaaaaa!" At which he let out a shrill shriek as well.

"Aaaaaa!" She screamed again and he did too, then took off running out of sight in the dim light. A moment later Down Range appeared from behind a small incline.

"What's going on?" After explaining the strange incident they sat together for a moment. Why hadn't his armor picked them up?

"Did you get a good look at their face?" Voicing she had not through the haziness of sleep they could only wonder who it was.

"How strange. Probably just one of the locals happened across us. Just in case we should move away from here to another site before I rest." She wouldn't have been able to go back to sleep anyway after that shock. Slipping into the stealth suit once more they quickly moved a fair distance to locate a place less likely to be discovered.

"Should I wake you up?" Shaking his head he took off his armor once more. She felt an odd thrill seeing him do this for some reason, feeling quite glad he could not see her blushing.

"What am I thinking? Get a grip. He's like 200 years old." This time they chose to camp under the edge of the remains of a little bridge that once spanned a short section between a gulley. They should not be discovered here.

This time they were totally out of sight. She supposed it best not to stray too far and stayed within hearing distance just in case. Quickly realizing just how boring this was she amused herself by looking around the old steel bridge pieces. They were made of some sort of metal much like Moonlight, though not as dark and seemed much more brittle. That may have been from the sheer ages of exposure to the outside. Her sudden startle from sleep earlier left her feeling a bit off for a while, a sort of sickly feeling inside.

"I've had enough surprises. I just want to find the book and..and...even if we can find it, then what? Really, what will I do? I need to think about this." She stared at the ground, lost in thoughts of home and running the big, empty farm all by herself.

It would be so much work. She would also have to live with the memories of what happened there.

"Why does everything have to be so hard!?" She scuffed the ground and felt the suit give off a strange subtle shudder.

"Huh? that felt kinda weird." Her worries from before about the suit breaking down returned, leaving her feeling a bit paranoid about pushing it very hard.

"There has got to be somepony out there that can check this thing out and fix whatever is wrong with it, right?" She poked about the rubble. Just old metal pieces from a time long gone by.

She'd never spent so long just thinking about things before. She hadn't realized before just how much she relied on her parents or that all her life they had done everything in an effort to give her a fair shot at carving out a better living. Their lives had literally been for her. It was easier to cry now. It didn't hurt like it had when she was running away in a blind panic, or like it did when she thought she might die. Now it was just letting it out. She looked out at the quiet desperately depressing feeling lands forever hidden away from the sun.

"Mom. Dad. I don't know if I can do it. I don't know how far I can go. I will try to do my best." She huffed and turned to see her companion beginning to stir. Five hours had passed. It was time to set out once more.

Approaching him as he was donning his armor she asked about Baltimare.

"I know it's a bit out of our way and would lead us a ways away from the group we're trying to catch up with but if there is any chance of finding it closer and a lot sooner, shouldn't we take the chance?" Her argument did sound convincing and had the ring of truth to it.

"We know they are sticking to the route they chose. I suppose we can just catch up with them a few days later than we thought. We will have to circle around Fillydelphia a fair ways to avoid trouble." The captains warning to stay clear of that city was dire.

How bad could it be? Traveler caught herself in the middle of that thought as she realized it could actually be quite horrible. No one knew for certain what was happening there, and what business was it of hers anyway? She had only been out in the world a little over a month and nearly died already. Although her father would never see it, she wanted to prove to herself she was strong enough to survive, and to carry out his dream of the land being slowly restored. She could not save the whole of the wastes, they were much too vast for that, but perhaps even just one farm doing what it was meant to do could be the start of something big.

This time Down Range walked closer behind, but still fairly far apart.

"Why do you walk way back there anyway?" She said over her shoulder through that deep rumbling amp.

"You can use your suit radio." The suit did have such a thing. Never having had occasion to use it she completely forgot about it until now. She switched it on and found the no broadcast which had floated in her vision all that time replaced by a pair of lines which twitched and bobbed up and down as he talked. Below the lines two other tags showed as 'dropoff' She didn't bother with them right now. It was odd hearing him so clearly despite being so far away.

"Habit. The army learned after a while it's best not to travel too close together in case of a bomb going off or something." Bomb? She never considered that. It took her some playing with the controls to set the volume at a comfortable level. He continued.

"There are other good reasons for not standing close together. One of us is less of a target than both of us." He explained. Target? She gulped nervously. There may be actual fighting to be done at some point. How would she react? Would she do the right thing if fighting was the only choice? She could only hope she was prepared.

Their travel was slowed a little as unlike his armor the stealth suit did not have a means of carrying any water internally. Whenever she needed to drink they had to stop. It was not a large delay, but every moment not spent walking was another they would lose to the group they were to meet up with. If this detour to look for old libraries did not pan out they might need them to help search the next possible location.

"Have you ever been to Baltimare?" She queried.

"I have been all over Equestria. It doesn't matter now. Almost nothing is the same." Was his terse response to the question.

"This is probably a silly question too then, but do we know where any libraries actually were?" He sighed. Their respective armors were marvelous feats of engineering and magical research, but each ones shortcomings were fairly apparent. The suits mapping and navigation systems were impressive but suffered from several serious limitations.

"Sort of. Also, most libraries weren't exactly a high priority for being protected back then. Let's just hope some survived." It did not come to mind as they traveled along before so she asked.

"I guess we should've looked around Manehattan for a library." He slowed down a bit at that. What?

"I won't go back there." Even through the crackle of the radio the sound of his voice made it clear he wouldn't speak further of it. This left Traveler feeling like she'd said something wrong somehow. Had she? Or was she just imagining things?

"I'm still so unsure about everything. Relax. Relax." During her desperate struggle to cross the open wastes she picked up a habit of whispering such things to herself. Sometimes she noticed it was happening. She never did so before having to flee. Constantly she worried if she was acting the way other ponies did. She knew so few of them at home. What if she did or said something others would think was terrible by mistake?

Finding herself thinking of home as they walked a memory came to mind. When she was still quite young she was trying to help do something she did not really recall what and tripped in front of her father, hitting her head off the unyielding floor of the farmhouse. Flailing about moaning in pain and crying she heard his voice.

"Look up." Huh? Through the tears she saw his smiling face looking down at her, reaching out a hoof to help her up. Simply seeing it somehow made her feel better as she got back up and the tears subsided.

"When we fall, we pick ourselves up and try again. Even when you're down, never stop trying." Why did that memory cross her mind now?

Down Range offered to the pull the cart once in a while which she took him up on. This allowed her more freedom of movement. They were losing at least a few days if not more on the other group by heading towards Baltimare, but it might be worth the effort and maybe even save them going after them anyway. Overall it would not lose them too much time to look. Possibly a week and a half at most. The suit maps only indicated one library somewhere near the outskirts of the city. If any others were there they would need to get directions somehow.

"I'll finally get to see a real city up close." She could hardly contain her excitement.

Having bypassed what was left of two old cities already she felt a mix of building excitement and a little fear as well. Would it be dangerous? Even the captain could only tell them so much. Mostly that though some ponies still lived in the cities they were scattered, disorganized and destitute. Also that many sections of the cities were very dangerous, infested with radroaches, bloodwings and possibly other creatures whose descriptions made her skin crawl. More dangerous still, some parts of Manehattan and perhaps other cities were utterly inaccessible due to magical radiation. Though her suit was equipped with a device that might actually let her head into such heavily contaminated areas safely it would carry great risk to do so.

This was all so exciting and frightening at the same time as they approached the city. They were not in sight of anything yet. This was just more walking. It felt nothing the same. The frightening days and nights meandering through the emptiness greatly impressed upon her how terribly vast the world really is. Her entire life was the farm and the tiny town. Why did only old ponies live there anyway? She only visited the town a dozen or so times due to the distance and her young age, leaving her little chance to interact much with the inhabitants. It occurred to her now that every pony in what was essentially the only town she ever knew were all very aged. Why would that be? There were no foals there which did not seem all that out of the ordinary, it was a harsh place but there weren't even any younger or middle-aged ponies around.

Shouldn't there have been at least a few? Perhaps she should bring this up to Down Range and ask what he thought of it. At least having his company made the world feel much more bearable even if he said little. He did endure a great trauma just as herself. In the end if he turned out to be anything at all like his comic counterpart she was in good hooves indeed. Wait a minute.

"I was so surprised I never actually noticed what his cutie mark was!" When he took off his armor she was so enamored of his face she hadn't noticed at all. The comic, at least the one she'd seen hadn't divulged what it was either.

Having somepony to talk to while traveling made such a huge contrast to her lonely escape through the wastes she determined she never wanted to be all alone again. This made her wonder again, were they becoming friends? Was she doing this right? Should she try harder? Or would that push him away? How could you even tell what to do? Never having had any real friends before she was a nervous wreck over every word she spoke. With every slow, carefully crafted sentence she could only hope she didn't sound silly. He did not seem to notice or say anything about it though. Often she thought about it.

"Are we friends? I hope we are. What if we're not? I don't know." Traveler didn't know how much of a toll all this anxiety was really taking on her. Once or twice as they trekked across the broken landscape for a few seconds the suit displayed a dim 'High Blood Pressure' tag that flickered and faded which she barely took notice of. So lost in thought regarding him she didn't notice the slight tremor from under the ground at first. As it became pronounced they halted. Down Range looked to her from several meters behind as some cracks began to form in the ground.

"Earthquake!" Both said in unison.

Neither of them could find sure footing as more and more cracks expanded around them. Soon both were dodging back and forth trying to avoid falling into one of the ever deepening divides. Through terrible timing they were standing on very soft and malleable ground. The quakes intensity was increasing rapidly. Twice through jumping she avoided falling but her position made it just short of inevitable. Back where he was the ground was not splitting apart nearly as much, letting him save himself and the cart. At some point very soon she was going to be consumed by one of the fissures. Was this really it? Was she going to die not by the hooves of some crazed marauder or during some valiant attempt to obtain the almanac, but by the simple misfortune of standing at the wrong place at the wrong time?

"It can't end like this!" Traveler cursed as she dodged across yet another widening crack to land splayed out hard. Not after having come this far. Not right when things were starting to look up. Please not like this. Diving past another opening crack her survival was becoming less and less of a possibility. The stealth suit was far more agile than the heavy armor he wore, but it was not meant for this. Inevitably she was losing to the sheer overwhelming force of nature. One missed step would spell her end. Unable to avoid the edge of one upheaval the ground beneath her dropped away, trying to hop and missing she landed hanging over the edge.

"Help me!" She could not find purchase while the shaking continued, unable to crawl back up as she scrambled futilely, slowly slipping further over. The armor suit was light, but not that light. The shaking was subsiding while she struggled. He was safe but still could not approach as she hung suspended over a drop surely no pony could live through. So close to slipping. Running for her the instant it stopped he almost reached her right as the edge suddenly gave way. Watching in horror from above she slipped off to tumble and bounce several times off the now steep embankment until smashing into the bottom upside down and rolling over.

As her vision went red the last thing she heard was a sharp beeping sound and the suits familiar deep harsh mechanical voice through the ringing in her ears.

"Severe Impact. User death imminent. Automatic medical systems engaged." Hear head rolled to the side as the world went dark. It would take him some time to work his way down to where she lay. It was a fairly localized quake but had caused a great deal of damage in several small areas. The occasional light tremor still went on, making him take even more time to reach where she fell.

She was in an open field full of lush grass strewn with all manner of flowers. It was so bright, warm and sunny. Blink. Flowers? Grass? Sunny? Night Bloom was waving at her.

"M..Mommy?" This couldn't be.

"You've got to wake up now sweetheart." Why would she have to wake up? It was so nice here.

"I don't want to go. I want to stay with you!" Her smile was warm and kind.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, it's not time yet." Time for what?

Everything crumbled away as a sight like a long hallway stretched out in front of her. Down Range was waving at her through the suits visor.

"Traveler. Wake up! Traveler, you've got to wake up! Are you alright? Can you hear me?" She set into a wild fit of coughing and hacking. Her very insides felt hurt. At least this showed him she was alive. Extremely weakly she managed to stammer.

"Mag..nificent....I don't think I can move.." A horrible sense of utter helplessness wrapped around her. Was she paralyzed? What if she could never move again?

"Easy. Easy now, Traveler. Look at your display. Does it say anything's broken?" He sounded so genuinely concerned for her the dread vanished for a moment. She smiled. On the right through pained tears she could just make out a combat log tag never seen before. Taking a deep breath she activated it. When it showed the only entry for that day stated 'Traumatic impact sustained. Heart function ceased. Shock Administered. Painkiller administered.'

"My armor says it shocked me." He tilted his head.

"Never heard of power armor doing anything like that. If it doesn't say anything is broken the shock probably just stunned you. You should be okay." He was encouraging sounding. That was so good to hear.

It still took a full hour before any feeling returned to her body. For that time she simply lay there. There was no way to get her out of the suit if she couldn't move. Twitching in her legs eventually showed she could actually move. Getting up after being prone for so long like this was very painful leaving her standing on what felt like pins and needles. Her ribs felt rigid and bruised.

"Can you walk?" She was wobbly and lightheaded. It was such a relief just to know she wasn't paralyzed.

"Thank goodness. There aren't exactly any hospitals to take you to. I think." She knew what the term meant from her father, but there probably hadn't been a place like that in almost two centuries.

She was going to be hurting for a while. Her suits internal stocks of drugs were already very low of any sort. Now they were even lower. Somehow they remained potent over the years. Most likely some kind of spell was applied to the drugs when they were made. Motioning her to sit down he removed his helmet after extricating himself from the cart. Fortunately none of the supplies were lost. Now able to extract herself from the suit it was plain she was hurt badly. A large lump on the right side of her head was bleeding fairly profusely. Her ribs were not broken but obviously bruised on the right side. The sheer force of the impact at the end of the tumble had jarred hard enough to stop her heart.

Were it not for the armor she would certainly be dead. From his kit he retrieved some gauze, wrapping it around her head softly.

"I feel so tired. Maybe I should lay down.." He shook his head before she finished.

"No!" Traveler was slightly taken aback at sudden rebuke.

"Never go to sleep right after taking a knock to the head like that ever." Why was he so vehement about that?

"It's a bad idea. For now stay awake and keep moving." He was very insistent. This concern felt unnaturally deep to her. If he was that worried about it, maybe she better listen.

"Sorry I said your name out loud like that." She hadn't meant to.

"It's fine. That was really serious. It still is." Now she was really curious why this was so disconcerting to him.

"Why are you so worried? We barely know each other, and my heart stopped. That's worse than this. Isn't it?" Traveler asked.

"Let me tell you a different kind of story." A story? He finished tightening the gauze softly, leaving her looking like she was wearing a white bonnet or something equally out of place partially covering her right eye.

The serious look on his face told her to listen.

"I didn't just start out as a General. I worked my way up with a clear will and purpose. I didn't really want to fight either, who did? You can die. Eventually our purpose shifted to meaning nothing more than..winning. Somewhere we forgot there are other things, but that's not what this story is about. I'm going to tell you what my first bitter taste of war was really like." She'd never heard anypony talk like this before. His expression was more grim than she could have imagined.

"I wanted it, but I probably didn't deserve the rank. They needed officers and promotions to fill positions were a little too quick." Trailing off for a moment it looked like he was having trouble continuing.

"My friend Chance Wrenchswing joined up before I did." She had to stifle a snort. What an unusual name.

"I'm going to tell you what happened during my first battle. Naturally he wound up in the engineering corps. We met during a very large assault against one of our most distant outposts." Though hurting she was listening raptly to this.

"We thought the forest area was secure. It wasn't heavily defended. Zebras know..or knew how to take advantage of terrain very well. When the outpost was hit we were confident we could take them. That didn't last too long. They took their time, picking us off one by one. Didn't even know the first one of us was gone." Traveler could already tell this was a story with a bad ending.

"By the time we realized what was happening six of us were already down. I was only active seven months." He took a deep breath.

"I never watched anypony die before. We fought for a long time. Hours I guess. Until he took a shot across the helmet. One of the others jumped the zebra that did it while I dragged him off into the forest. I don't know what happened to him." This was a dark and terrible story so far and getting worse. She did not know what to feel about it.

"They all died. All of them. I am the only one who survived that fight." Though Travelers head was killing her, this demanded her attention.

"But, what about your friend?" She asked. He nodded in a forlorn way.

"He couldn't walk. I made a makeshift sled out of branches and straps to drag him on. I didn't know. I never should have let him sleep, but It took two days to find another unit. They were hit as well. Not as bad. The medic..couldn't wake him up." A few tears welled in his eyes.

"He never woke up." He wiped his eyes. Oh dear. That was frightening. Seeing her horrified look he quickly added:

"I don't mean to scare you. Just stay awake until we're sure you're really alright. Poor Chance, as far as I know he was still in a coma when it all ended. Maybe that was better anyway." This was such a sad story.

The particular comic she'd seen never said he'd been through such terrible things.

"I'm sorry about your friend." Was all she could think to say.

"I'm sorry about all of them. Do you think you can manage to walk? We can go slow." After hearing that she was more than willing to stay up for now and gingerly slipped back into Moonlight. It would be very slow going. The rest of the day passed uneventfully. He was unusually chatty. Just off in the distance the vague outlines of buildings could be seen in the dim gloom that was day. Her earlier excitement was tempered by the pain in her ribs and head.

As night fell they stopped just short of being within sight of the buildings. Her head wasn't ringing as much by now. Her ribs felt like they were hurting even more than earlier.

"I have to stop. Do you think it would be okay for me to sleep now?" He was still a bit concerned, but she did seem to be in full possession of her faculties.

"Alright. Don't you slip away on me now." No way she was going to die now. There were things to do. Even on the hard ground it felt so good to rest.

It also hurt a whole lot to wake up.

"Ohh." Traveler panted. Her head was pounding terribly and it felt like it took everything she had just to get to her hooves. Once up she coughed a few times. She was feeling so very hungry she opened one of the boxes of miserable foodstuff once more and just dumped some in her mouth. The same vaguely crunchy gritty cardboard-like flavor as always. She was starting to become so desensitized to it she didn't even notice. The ancient cereal whatever it was certainly was filling. She was only finishing the first box now, and would stick to drinking only the amount of water she planned on.

Where was Down Range anyway? Gingerly slipping into the suit the display showed him moving towards her. He stepped into view.

"Good. You're up. I was worried." Those words made her feel very warm.

"I'm fine. Well, I'm not fine, but I think I'm alright." She was kind of stumbling over her words.

"It's my watch." He asked if she was feeling up to it.

"I can take it." At least she hoped. She would not be able to move around as much so chose to do slow circles.

Each time she looked east the outlines of wrecked and shattered buildings could be made out. They would definitely reach the first in the morning. Hopefully the library they were looking for wasn't totally destroyed. Her excitement was beginning to return. A real city. Something she'd never been to before. The prospect was fraught with mixed feelings. It could be a treasure trove or a death trap. The squeaking from the suits damaged leg joint happened more often since her terrible tumble. As if there wasn't enough to worry about already.

"It can't be helped. Just gotta keep..huh?" The faintest flicker of another friendly bar appeared on the display and vanished.

"Must be imagining things. I guess I did hit my head pretty hard." Losing herself in thought the time passed quickly. When he asked her via the radio if she was ready to go it startled her.

"Oh my head. Yeah, can't wait to see it." If there was anything left to see. She'd been so intent on the city ahead that once again she'd missed what his cutie mark was.

"Next time." She told herself. The terrain here was very flat. A portion of an old road they were following which happened to survive showed as Mareshal Lane on her display. How did the suit know these things?

Further on just across two more roads was the library. If they could go in a straight line it would only take a few hours to reach. They were making good time once again. An occasional soft aftershock still shook the ground setting off alarm bells in her head. They proved to be unwarranted. Most of the upheaval was confined to a relatively small region. Down Range insisted on pulling the cart for now. The gesture was nice if a bit pointless aside from maneuverability. Their suits provided more than enough power to pull it regardless. It did put less stress on the leg joint she supposed. They were finally approaching buildings. For her it was quite a sight, and quite a mess. She didn't know what she expected really.

Many buildings did still stand. Cracked, withered with age and neglect or otherwise damaged with some missing entire sections, but impressive to her nonetheless.

"Ponies built all this? They're so..big." Some of them looked like they reached to the very sky itself. They were not so lucky for a clear path. One building was a real problem. When it fell the structure twisted sheering the building in half to land on its side across the road toppling another building across the way blocking the entire way.

"Do we go around?" Traveler was intently surveying all this. It was all so grand and huge to her.

"It would take hours more. We go through. Stay spaced apart." ?? He walked straight up to one of the sideways windows and straight in. She followed. It was difficult navigating in this space and disorienting. Some warped doors still in their frames hung above. Most rotted away. She could look up and see the assorted destruction wrought on tubs, tables and whatever else the building once housed before it fell so violently. A more saddening and mute reminder of the horror the end gave to all was the presence of the occasional bit of pony bone here and there. Living ponies were in here when it happened. How many ponies were struck down idly, never suspecting anything was coming?

Accidentally stepping on the still partially intact skull of one poor soul amidst the wreckage gave her pause. She gulped.

"I'm sorry." She slid it softly off to the side and moved on. His armor was equipped with a small side lamp enabling them to see well enough. Moonlight did not have any such feature thanks to the vision enhancement it already provided. This enabled her to determine the night vision mode though helpful was no replacement for real light. Several shortcomings were noticeable now. It was not possible to look too closely towards a light source with it on, and it was much harder to make out fine details. It was easy enough to imagine this being a problem.

Her father said the suit wasn't fully tested when the war ended. It may have other problems she was not yet aware of. Their steps echoed hollowly through this once mundane structure. It must have been wonderful to live in such a place. Her imagination ran wild with things that might have gone on here. So much so she could almost hear voices. The walk through this mangled mess was depressing. So many dreams must have been cut short in this one place alone. What of the whole of Equestria? Were all the great cities as torn up and devastated? To her even this simple building was a marvel of engineering deserving of a far better end than this. Some climbing was necessary once in a while. Fortunately their path was mostly clear.

Emerging on the far side presented a view down the road of many other destroyed buildings.

"That's not promising." Half an hour later they stood in front of the library. Not promising at all. A quarter of the right side was shorn clean off leaving the entire insides of the lobby exposed. A once grand staircase still stood to the left spiraling up to a second rickety floor. Any books out here were beyond salvage. A friendly bar flickered across her display again.

"Did you see?.." He looked at her.

"Never mind." Picking their way in through the rubble did lead to a few jammed doors.

Ramming the first two at full strength still would not move them.

"Must have caved in behind." He said. This was looking less and less likely to have been a good idea. The third door opened with ease. There might be something in there. Down the messy hallway there was a sudden echoing voice.

"Help! Help!" They looked to each other. Running down the hallway they passed a door where another call for help drifted from. Backing up they could see a disheveled blue mare whose soft pink mane and tail were streaked with dirt. She was pinned on her back by a beam sitting across one of her hooves.

An open book with illegible lettering surrounded by wide empty spaces for a cutie mark was just visible. She spotted them. Some decayed bones lay about the room.

"Thank goodness! Can you get this off of me? I'm stuck." The beam was very heavy taking some effort to slide off enough to set her free.

"Who are you, and how did you get stuck like that?" They asked. Standing up and shaking herself off she looked rather pale.

"I'm Margin. I promised to visit her so I was trying to find my friend Delimiter when everything got all bright and shaky. Then this beam fell down. I've been stuck here for hours. No, days? I don't know." Bright? She seemed very confused.

"What are you doing here?" Couldn't hurt to ask.

"We are looking for a book called the Farmer's Almanac." She smiled.

"I know exactly where a copy of that is. I'll help you find it if you help me find my friend." That sounded good.

"Follow me." Margin darted out into the hallway. Didn't her hoof hurt?

Back at the staircase she started upwards, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings or how unsafe it all was.

"Isn't that dangerous?" She giggled when Traveler asked.

"Dangerous? Nonsense. What could be dangerous about climbing some stairs? Come along." Margin walked up to the top then straight across the drooping ledge without a care in the world. As she went to step into a gap Traveler gasped, but somehow she walked straight across to the far door and out of sight.

"Down Range, something feels strange about this." He agreed.

"You're lighter than me. think you're up to crossing that?" The other mare did it. Surely she could manage. It would mean leaving Moonlight here with him.

"Be careful. Something really does feel off about this, but I can't put my hoof on it." She headed up to the ledge. It was even more rickety up close. How did Margin cross this so easily? Inching her way along unsteadily she put her left rear hoof right through the ledge. It would be very painful to fall from here. The promise of the book won out as she steadily crossed inch by inch. Finally entering the door on the far side let her breathe a sigh of relief.

Margin was just turning a corner at the end of the hall.

"Come on slowpony." Out of sight again. Traveler went to turn the corner and almost fell a story down onto ragged sharp pieces below where the floor collapsed. Margin was on the other side of the large gap.

"It's right in here." She waved.

"Wait, Margin, how did you get over there so fast?" She stopped waving.

"I walked. What's the trouble with you young ponies today?" She stepped into the room on the far side of the gap out of sight once again.

"What is going on here?" If there was any chance a copy was here she needed to reach it. Backing up to take a running start she leapt across, her rear hooves just connected with the edge as she almost slipped off.

"Whew. Don't want to wind up down there." There were plenty of books in the room, most of which were absolutely ruined by the ravages of time and exposure. The ceiling had given way here leaving the room open to air and the elements.

"Here you are. The Farmer's Almanac: Everything there is to know about farming, past and present." It was a hefty tome, and nearly utterly destroyed. Maybe something could be salvaged out of it.

She'd let her hopes get too high, now feeling miserable at seeing it. The panging in her head and body from the exertion wasn't helping her mood.

"Can we look for my friend now? She should be around here somewhere." Right. That. Traveler left the book in here for now. She would get it on the way back out.

"Where would this friend of yours be?" She asked as they traversed several dingy hallways lined by multiple rooms. The library would have been well appointed in its time.

The cracked and peeling walls, destroyed reading tables and chairs, and the desiccated husk of a building now only served as a reminder that life must have been a great deal better once.

"Why are you looking for them anyway?" Margin smiled.

"We promised to meet each other and go out for a nice picnic." Traveler did a double take. A what? Did she hear that right? Brushing it off she also decided to ask.

"How did you know right where that book was anyway?" Margin was calling her friends name.

"I'm the head librarian here." What? She was beginning to think she'd hit her head even harder the other day than she thought. A low muffled wheezing was heard behind a slightly tilted door. It took some banging to force it open. Bursting through the dilapidated door revealed a crying pale pink unicorn with a soft blue and white streaked mane. A mark that resembled a comma punctuated her flank. Her crying echoed in the small room. More alarmingly a filing cabinet had fallen across her back. Another shelf fell straight across right in front, apparently cracking her horn jaggedly. The bones of a pony skeleton lay crushed beside her.

"Delimiter!" Margin ran over to her.

"Margin, you're finally here. I waited for you so long. I thought I'd be stuck in here forever." There was some kind of mild echo to her voice in this room. Traveler heaved the cabinet off of her stirring up great deals of dust. She appeared to glimmer in the dim light afforded by the gaps in the ceiling. Despite freeing her this still felt very wrong.

"That was quite a shake, huh?" Delimiter stood up and the two friends hugged one another happily. Wasn't she hurt? She had to be hurting between her back being hit and her horn being broken.

"It's time." Delimiter told her. A horrified look crossed Margins face as something dawned on her. Traveler looked to her questioningly. Rivulets of tears began streaming down her face.

"It can't be..I...I don't want to go!" Delimiter held her friend close.

"I just realized it too. I Guess I just couldn't leave without my best friend." She gave her a gentle squeeze.

"We've been here much too long already. We have to go. It's okay. We're together again thanks to this nice pony." This was feeling stranger and stranger. Margin was shaking her head side to side as tears flowed.

"Come now. It was a long time ago. We can go together." Traveler was feeling very confused. What were they talking about?

"Are you ready?" Margin ever so slowly said yes. Delimiter looked to Traveler.

"Good luck, and thank you." With a wavering shimmer they disappeared from sight. A moment later Traveler found herself sitting in an empty room beside a pile of pony bones as her vision flickered. No one was around.

"Huh? What happened to me? Where did they go? Margin? Delimiter?" There was no answer within the dusty confines of this ruined library. Only the undisturbed silence of ages abandonment.

"Wait a minute." Looking down she was dumbstruck by the fact there was only one set of hoofprints in the dust. A chill ran along her spine.

"What did I just?.." Getting up she walked back through the lonely library. There were no other hoofprints in the halls aside from her own.

"Was I dreaming? That can't be." The damaged remnants of the book were exactly where she left it. It was most definitely real.

"Was that some kind of magic? I better get out of here." Heading back hurriedly she retrieved the book and tossed it across the gap to land squarely. From this side the angle of the jump looked easier to make. After making the dangerous leap back she carried it out to the ledge and tossed it down for Down Range to catch. She did not have to go back across the ledge again after finding a relatively safe spot to jump down from. The exertion of it all exacerbated the pounding in her head and the ache in her ribs.

"Where is Margin?" He asked.

"Let's get out of here. I'll tell you on the way." As they exited what was left of the library she explained.

"That can't be right." Now he was worried about her mental state.

"They were there and then they were just, gone." They might as well get back on track. Slipping back through the ruins she was uncertain of her feelings. Did she just help something really good happen? It did feel like it was good even if It was hard to understand.

"You are talking about ghosts. How can there be ghosts?" He was still rather incredulous about what happened.

"I don't know. I just feel like something good happened." Could they really have been ghosts, or something else? Some kind of echo of the past? Whatever they were, they had been waiting for somepony to bring them to their senses and set things to rights for a very long time. Deciding it would probably be fruitless to look for another library around here they followed the same route back to their last campsite. He took off his helmet and sat using a spell to ever so gently prize apart the damaged books pages. She got some rest while he worked. Most pages were unreadable with only an intact sentence or word which without context were probably useless, he cut them out and saved them anyway just in case.

He worked at it for several hours before flipping the last page. Only one page from a chapter apparently about wheat was relatively intact. Carefully he slipped it into the relative safety of a storage compartment on his armor. Their detour wasn't a complete loss.

"Better than nothing. I hope we have better luck next time." He would take the first watch tonight. She really needed the rest. Her head and ribs were still aching. The strange incident at the library left her wondering what else they might run into. Had the two ponies friendship really been so strong in life that a mere promise bound them here until they were together again? Was that even possible?

It was hard for her to sleep that night. Hearing some shuffling she opened her eyes to see the faint outline of a red-furred pony standing over her.

"AAAHH!" Startled she started screaming, as she did so he echoed with an "aaah!" of his own. This was strangely familiar.

"Aah!" She yelped again. Down Range had come running from somewhere and in his hefty armor slid down a small ridge. Why hadn't his suit picked them up? They continued screaming back and forth.

"Stop, stop screaming!" He boomed over his suit amp.

"Who are you!? What do you want!?" She demanded.

"What's going on here? You!?" Down Range also sounded confused. The red-coated pony responded with a surprised sound to his voice.

"You!" Traveler blinked in confusion.

"Hold it, hold it!" What in the world? Now that she'd shaken off the grogginess of sleep she could see him clearly.

"Is that you, Tanner? What are you doing, are you following us?" Down Range questioned. This was all so confusing.

What did this pony want? Was he following them? This thought made her feel a bit disturbed.

"Yes, I mean no. I mean..sorry to startle you like that. I didn't intend to, really. Sorry." Once she managed to catch her breath she stood up. Down Range stepped in close as Tanner spoke.

"Wait, you know my name?" Tanner seemed to calm.

"Of course I know your name, Tanner. You only followed me everywhere at the camp. Think I didn't notice?" Tanner was a bit pale.

"Tanner? Are you alright?" He fell over onto his side unconscious, smacking his head off the ground.

"Good heavens. Traveler, check him." She leaned over him.

"Are ya..Are you dead?" His eyes shot open making her jump back.

"Ohh.. What happened?" He looked up and seeing the heavily armored pony standing over him his head hit the dirt again.

"This is going to be a long day isn't it?" Down Range held an armored hoof up to his helmet and sighed.

"It's about time for your watch anyway. I have no idea why he's here or how he found us. Probably harmless, just keep an eye on him. I need some sleep." Traveler found she did not ache quite as badly. While she always wanted excitement, this was not at all the sort she had in mind. Doing her little routine to get into her armor she couldn't help but ponder her experiences so far. Not even two months time passed since she left the farm. She went through so much. Now she'd nearly died twice. She hoped this was not becoming a trend. Through sheer luck of timing she'd met a pony who was technically over two centuries old, and now what could this Tanner fellow be doing here anyway?

"I wonder what will happen next?" She gazed off into the distance.

Is it fate? Are they merely lucky to still be alive or is that which hangs always just a hairs breadth outside of notice gently pulling at the strings?

Deseret

The war consumed all. Nothing and no one was spared the terror and pain. Not even a small, long since forgotten realm. After all the world is a very large place. Who could be tasked to remember such an insignificant little thing? The ponies of Equestria were facing much larger problems to deal with. Whilst no ponies remembered them, they certainly remembered the ponies. They were in fact required for their very survival when outside of this place. Nearly 200 years ago the minuscule breezies were forced to wall themselves off from Equestria when they emerged to engage in a traditional right of passage only to find it seemingly devoid of life or help, and much too dangerous for them.

The portals to this land were very few and far between, having been created even more ages ago via some unknown and unremembered means. Their own access to magic was nearly nonexistent. Lacking power as they were it had taken a concerted effort by every living breezie at that time to manage closing them and prevent a disaster. The very sort of disaster that was happening now. The dimensional dams that held the portals closed for so long had for some unknown reason and without warning begun to falter and break down.This was allowing contamination to seep in at ever faster rates, overtaking many of them before they even knew what was happening. There was no slowing it.

Some seeking escape found only a painful lonely death in another location.

"Mom, we have to help them!" She spoke in their highly nuanced common language. Their small packs dangled at their sides. They had thought to grab them just before fleeing. Her mother's magnificent wings glittered in the ever dimming light. The seemingly magical light was in truth provided by very luminescent exotic plants, plants which were quickly dying taking the light with them.

"There's nothing we can do, it's spreading too fast. We have to get out there or we're next. The only remaining safe portal will close very soon." They started heading for the only one that was still available as soon as they heard it was safe to exit through to the strange world beyond.

"But, all our friends.." Tears fell from their saddened faces as they drifted along.

"I'm sorry, Deseret." It was horrible, what they'd seen when passing a little too close to the already affected areas. The rapidly withering plants and destroyed homes.

Falling and dying breezies limping along they could not approach, calling, begging for help they could not give. They must leave now or be trapped to die as well in this once placid and peaceful place. Very soon this beautiful land, their once safe haven against the ills of the world would forever be lost to them, dead as their fallen brethren. Against protest their Queen opted to remain and use what little power she still possessed to hold open the portal as long as possible and usher out as many as could be saved.

"What about dad?" Deseret questioned. Her mother shook her head.

"Let's just hope he made it to the portal." With that she tugged her daughter along.

There was little time left to reach the far-off portal. Being so diminutive news of the safe portal reached them slowly despite the best efforts of their swiftest couriers to pass the news as far as possible before it closed. There would just barely be enough time for them to reach it and pass through. The couriers were also slowed by not quite knowing where was still safe to go. Some of the couriers entered what appeared to still be safe areas only to fall sick or worse themselves. What would await them across it's threshold? No breezie had looked beyond one since they were closed.

Where this portal even crossed to was a mystery. Only old stories remained. Stories of how alien a place it was to them, how vast and dangerous even before whatever great disaster befell it. A disaster they knew nothing of. How could they? Their own realm was more than big enough for them, secure until now. Now they may only be scurrying to their doom, but what other choice was there? Their insular world would soon be completely flooded with deadly contamination there was no way of halting. What great disjunction found its way into their safe haven? Were the portals forced open on purpose? If so, what sinister aim could possibly be accomplished by destroying them?

Compared to the ponies and creatures of Equestria the breezies are so small, so insignificant in stature some even began to think of themselves that way. Their success in closing the portals girded their confidence in themselves. Enough for them to live on in the seclusion entirely cut off, alone. This confidence would now be put to the most severe test. Whatever awaited beyond the portal would surely push them to their limits. A few small ragtag groups of surviving breezies met here and there as they headed for their only possible salvation. Their path to the goal was winding and cautious, draining their already limited time. There was no choice, heading straight there was not possible.

Crossing already withering areas carried far too much risk. The medicinal herbs and life giving plants were found to be poisonous if showing any sign of the withering at all. Some in a few of the groups crossing their path were obviously dying and given a wide berth. Coming too close to those affected had proven deadly already. This had the unfortunate side-effect of also turning away the generally infirm or unwell on the off-chance it was something more.

"This isn't right.." Deseret could only cry as her mother hurried them along. When they finally approached the portal it was with both great relief and great reluctance to enter. There were so few of them here.

"I'm scared." Trembling they looked towards the entrance. Some of the queen's servants were ushering what scattered remnants made it here through to the other side.

"My Queen, you are here. Why haven't you left yet?" Her mother asked. The Queen seemed oblivious to her question.

"I hope we can find some ponies in that place. We will need their help." Her mother stared at the portal with apprehension. What happened to Equestria all those decades ago? Were they about to find salvation or would their efforts be in vain? With no way of knowing they might as well assume all the ponies were dead.

Surely whatever was killing them now had killed the residents of that long unvisited land. Standard equestrian tongue had still been taught, passed down to any breezie wishing to learn it for whatever reason. This might prove of value if they were somehow fortunate enough to find any alive. Provided it was even possible for them to survive long enough to find any.

"Are you ready, Deseret?" She hugged her daughter tightly. Father was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was waiting for them on the other side? All of the breezies heading towards the portal looked scared out of their wits, fueling their fear.

They turned to take one last forlorn look at their dying realm. A sight that would soon and for all eternity be denied to them. There would be no coming back. The servants were being forced more and more to keep well away from the portal any approaching breezie that looked to be under the effects of the contamination. The horror of watching some begin writhing in agony, slowly dying from afar was proving to be an unbearable torture.

"My Queen, you cannot possibly hold it open much longer. You must go." She was regal and stern as the rocks. One of the servants was insisting she enter.

"Steady old friend. I will not abandon any of my subjects that can be saved. Not to this scourge. If I enter it will close. You however, must go now. All of you here, quickly. I will follow later if I can." There was a distinct feeling that was not going to happen.

"My Queen, I cannot..." Barely able she rose up. What tiny spark of magic they all managed to muster for her was fading fast.

"I order you to go!" She did not often issue orders.

"You are wasting time. Get moving." Sadly the few remaining breezies departed their home for the last time. Passing through the portal was not an experience any had a recollection of, or a way of knowing what to expect. It was too long ago. Upon entering the glimmering light of it they felt a slight shudder pass across them. Looking back to the fading light of the portal they waited in hope for their Queen. A few more every once in a while exited. All hope of her following was extinguished when the final glimmering light of the portal faded from existence. Their attention soon turned to tears and then to immediate concerns.

"Where, are we?" Was stated in unison.

Such small and delicate silvery wings upon such dainty little things. What twist of cruel fate so fair, may lie waiting to spring upon them there?

Wicked

In the dark it sits and waits. Wallowing in its blinding hate. It wants all and nothing at the same time. It has waited forever for the time. It wants to reach forth and claim its prize. Locked safely away by those who were wise. It looks such a wonderful, useful thing. Inside pure evil waits to take wing. Those who would claim such awful power find in its presence even they must cower. The pressure of its dominance bared leaves those with good hearts trembling, scared. Be forever wary of its scathing might for few can withstand the slightest sight. The glitter of blinding white is not always reflecting light. Tread not in the shadow there, or be forever lost within its snare.

Hiding in that darkened place it starts a quite revolting race. Its time is nearing. Its coming for you. Whatever is it you shall do? You think that you know the answer? It spreads itself as like a cancer. A most grotesque and curious dancer. It wishes to wind within its web any who would dare to tread. The dark is what it calls home. It needs no one, sitting there so very alone. It leaves all quivering and prone. Its one weakness none will ever share. Sharp and wicked inside its lair. Soon to be a most significant player. It toys with fates strings for amusements sake. Leaving naught but destruction in its wake. What lies at stake now is the world laid bare. What is justice? What is fair? Does it have even a single care?

I warn you now to run, to hide. You don't want to know what is held inside. It will not spare you nor I. It can only make things die. It will do no good to scream nor cry. It exists because of one single devastating lie. Never may we know the reason why. We can but shake our heads and sigh. Oh me oh my, there is no way to now deny that things are nearly so cut and dry. It has such power it cannot use, enough to finally make it blow a fuse. Seething anger will soon burst out to not one single warning shout. All who knew lay dead and rotten. All warning of its power long forgotten. What is it, this horrid thing? What horrors with it does it bring? Few know the pain of its terrible sting.

It shrieks and screams and pries at the prison walls. Unheard caterwauling does not echo down the halls. In its silent despair there is nothing which it can share. Where is it? Where? None can hear it. None know it is there. The walls are breaking, wearing thin. The slightest misstep might well let it in. Does it wait for some unwary traveler? Perhaps some unknowing dabbler. To free it from that final lock. The clock is ticking, time is sticking. Have you ever seen the world slow down? It sees only crimson brown. Life does not like what is about to be shown, something like this should never have grown. To be so strong and play at will with whatever gives to it a silent thrill. Unnoticed a terrible chill, like ice it runs through the land as forth it reaches still.

It contrives to win a freedom that must never begin. It waits to cackle and grin, to what is it akin? Where it sits so far none can hear. Does it even want anything near? Its patience now is nearing an end. To its will the world must soon bend. To give heed to this call will mean to lose it all. Wither then even mighty armies fall. What is coming? Better start running. Who will we turn to? All we knew and all that is. How can things be so terribly amiss? Waiting in its dark abyss. How could we have been oh so remiss? To forget its there, even in our darkest nightmare. Will we stand in awe as it devours us whole? Can none stand forth and fulfill the role? A hero to bring us lights reprieve, and give to all the greatest relief.

What at this moment makes it struggle to lift its head, to turn life to dust and leave all to rust? Is there no one in whom we may trust? To disperse the enclosing gloom, and let flowers spring forth to once again bloom. It swept away yesteryear, laying them low and filling all with fear. Hope is such a simple fleeting thing, it can come and go as easily as when voices set forth to sing. The land in countless decades has not felt the joy of spring, when forth used to come every living thing. It sits there biding in its plight, waiting for the time to be just right. Its ploys are falling into place, leaving not a single trace. No way to see it. No way to hear it. No way to come anywhere near. To it the world stopped long ago. For their efforts it set all aglow.

Is there a reason it lies in wait? What exactly is its stake? It does not care what we may do. It may not even care if we were to win through. It slowly summons all its strength. The length and breadth of all the land, is what it covets as it starts to stand. Its burdens greater than any other. It wants only us to smother. Its singular task is murder through and through. More dangerous than anything we have ever knew. The threads are coming undone upon the loom. It will be upon us quite soon. The roots it casts are vast and deep. Don't let it take you in your sleep. Those who knew it were left to weep. It is coming, bar your door, or maybe it will come up through the floor? To make a mockery forevermore, and maybe reach a distant shore. Should it win all daylight ends, the sun will never shine again.

Something wicked this way comes.

Damnatio Memoriae

Half an hour to to war end:

The circle of zebras stared towards the center where one lone member stood in chains. All wore cloaks emblazoned with a small circular golden crest of two snakes crossing each others path. Their yellowed eyes glinted in the dark. Their leader stood forth and spoke grimly in a harsh sounding dialect thought entirely lost to the nation and to time. If any were to overhear it would do them no good.

"You stand accused of treason and heresy. Worse yet, you have gone too far in your mad bid for power. Not only have you failed us, Abraxi. If they but knew, you would have earned the enmity of all your kind. Did you think Caesar would continue to cast a blind eye? To look kindly upon these transgressions?" The circles and patterns inscribed in the ground around him were beginning to fill with a glowing blue liquid pouring in from two upturned cauldrons. He did not speak, merely returning a cold gaze which gave pause even to these members of the secret council.

"You shall be stricken from our hearts and memories. None shall herald your name nor suffer to recall your failure. Unlike you however, we are not merciless to our own. It pains us all to offer you anything. Have you any last request?" The words were practically spat at him. Slowly his icy gaze met each causing a shiver to pass between them. His voice was low and sharp.

"My fate was sealed long ago. You offer one last request even to me? You are WEAKLINGS." He yanked at the chains suddenly, causing every member to take a step back.

This was insufferable. How could one lone captive in chains instill such fear in them?

"You have disobeyed time and again. Made a mockery of our order. Now you dare insult our strength?" He had only escaped punishment thus far because of his genius and knowledge. The agitated crowd murmured amongst themselves. He spoke again.

"The only madness here is blindly following in Caesar's insanity. Can you not see what is soon coming?" His words stung. It felt as though a heavy weight fell on each zebra present. It was true.

The orders they were being given were becoming increasingly desperate. Each foray into battle was less and less successful no matter how much was being thrown into it. They would lose the war soon. A war they must win. They were bound by tradition, honor and duty to succeed or die in carrying out this impossible task. Their leader hissed angrily, turning towards the others.

"Silence. We serve the empire and the empire is Caesar!" The murmurs ceased. He stomped at the ground rhythmically.

"Our lives for Caesar! All hail!" They all joined. He turned back to the prisoner as the stomping continued.

"You see, cretin? Our loyalties lie with the empire. Where do yours?" He pointed to the attendants to pour in the final ingredient. A vile thick smoke began to rise from the patterns, slowly circling towards the center. Soon he would be engulfed in it.

"Judgement is passed. For your misdeeds towards your kin the sentence is death." The prisoners expression showed nothing. No fear, no anger. Nothing. The crowd fell silent as the smoke covered him completely.

He should be coughing, choking on the concoction. Dying. Nothing was heard. Silently they looked to each other, perplexed. Minutes passed. The obscuring smoke would dissipate soon. The vague outline of the zebra could just be made out as it went.

"What?" Scattered gasps from the group voiced their disbelief. Something was not right with this. A terrible feeling of wrong overcame them.

"What is this?" One of them gasped. The chains lay empty on the ground. He stepped out from the haze.

They were all backing up.

"Stand fast! Weapons!" Their leader ordered. Each readied daggers, swords or even more exotic fighting tools.

"Abraxi, what have you done!?" He leered at the group. He looked different somehow, darker. Sinister. Some depressive feeling of dread fell over every one of them. His very voice hurt to hear.

"You are all so weak-minded. Zebra and pony alike, all their allies. It took you much too long to see through this guise. You have so readily earned what is come upon you." He raised a hoof and they all staggered backwards under some unseen assault.

"Sir, what is he?" One of the group asked. Some strange pressure pushed at them.

"That is not Abraxi. It never was." Was the response. Hollow echoed laughter surrounded them.

"How right you are. He died at the very outset of this game. A game which you have now lost, for I am become death." He laughed maniacally. A game? Death? Was this abomination standing before them one of their own at all? Was he even a zebra?

"It was all so easy. Taking his place. A few suggestive words given at just the right moment. An accident or two and suddenly you are all trying to kill one another. Isn't it glorious?" He was walking straight at them.

"Who is this fiend, sir?" One of the subordinates ran at him only to be deftly bashed away in a single precise movement to land sprawled unconscious. Their leader gravely took his stance.

"A servant of the lowland cult. Brace yourselves." At mention of the cult their hearts ran even colder.

"Give it your all. Anything less means our end. Fight well and true." They knew there was no escaping this.

He was nearing. What misfortune this was. To have uncovered such treachery here and now. Much too late to do any good.

"Far more than your end, quaestionarius. The empire topples, and we all fall..down." The clamor of battle rang out in the night.

Sometimes things are exactly what they seem to be.

Deathwatch

In forgotten times during the great war when fighting and the carnage it leaves behind were commonplace, the recently formed equestrian military found itself on the receiving end of countless skirmishes and battles. Taking the brunt of this wave of increasingly brutal combat was quickly taking a heavy toll on the inexperienced combatants. Both sides were taking increasingly heavy casualties, as the body count mounted so did the ponies desperation to find an endgame to this barbarity. Few thought this could carry on for more than a year or two at most. On it went, two years, four years, each year dragged into another and this hope faded. A means to counter the zebra war machine was not proving so easy to find.

Both sides reached the conclusion they needed new weapons and tactics. On the pony side special research groups were formed. Some of these groups were given far too much freedom to engage in any manner of experimentation. What the zebras did is anyone's guess. This lead to many grand developments, a few of which held the promise of stopping the enemy in their tracks. Dead in their tracks. Anything and any price to overwhelm the aggressors, and enforce pony dominance once more. With every loss, and every zebra sent packing the ponies pride in their new army grew ever deeper. It is said such pride goeth before destruction.

The battle raged for three terrible days. Clash after clash for three ragged, violent days. Some of those participating in this battle would suffer mental issues for the rest of their lives, still fighting in some way. Those who survived just another kind of casualty. The embattled third battalion barely held the line as pony and zebra alike hurled themselves into this nearly mindless slaughter. Why the zebra forces were fighting with such renewed intensity this time around was a complete mystery. What gave them such strength? It was almost unnatural how hard they fought. It was quickly becoming apparent they may actually punch a hole in the already tattered defenses.

All manner of shattered equipment, and the formerly living ponies which carried it lay scattered across the battlefield. The commander and captains overseeing this, on the verge of collapse themselves, some injured and even dying still gave orders to the beleaguered defenders.

"Scout! Where is that support?" The commander was seriously injured himself, having been attacked by two zebras that somehow slipped through the line. Through sheer luck he and an alert second lieutenant took them out, but not without cost. The bedraggled scout, covered in mud and shaking almost didn't make it back to deliver a report.

"Sir, fourth platoon has been mired in a prolonged firefight to the west. Air support has been drawn off due to unexpectedly heavy resistance, and the terrain is making it difficult for command to coordinate troop movements. Some ground support is heading our way though." He huffed heavily. The sound of gunfire amidst smoke that drifted across the whole area was ceaseless. Looking through binoculars almost nothing distinct could be discerned. The cries of injured and fallen could occasionally be made out. While the intense fighting wore on they could not be reached. This was by far the worst fight the army ever engaged in to date. From within the din of battle a strange new sound could be made out.

An earth pony wearing full heavy armor strode directly into the battle. This action would normally be considered insane. He was walking straight up a zebra held rise that was lost to them hours ago. Was he crazy? The commander managed to spot this and watched in rapt horror as the pony casually marched right into them. All four armored hooves seemed to be sparking.

"What is he doing!?" His death was certain, but as all the zebras gathered and fell upon him he struck the closest, causing a short intense flash as it sent six of them flying, sparks shooting off in all directions.

The commander cursed, stunned at this sight.

"Who is he, and what is that pony using?" He looked to the visibly shaken scout. He'd endured a great deal to get back here. Stepping closer to use the high distance binoculars he pulled himself together enough to answer.

"One of the elites from second division. I think they were calling those power hooves or something. He must have got ahead of his unit somehow, sir." They could only stare as he waded through opposition, knocking opponents aside. His armor was taking some glancing hits, but being so close to the enemy made him less of a target.

By himself he was practically turning the tide of battle in their favor. Attention on both sides was turning towards the hill where this was taking place. More and more zebras were converging on this lone fighter as he knocked away their spears and swords, sparks showering with each hit. Pony forces that saw this were desperately trying to provide cover fire for this lone combatant, they were too far away, many still engaged even as zebra units fell back in droves. He was driving a wedge straight through their ranks that they must take advantage of. All eyes fixated on this scene as an unusually large, lightly armored zebra wielding an energy sword attached to a thick cable strode forth, the power pack strapped to his right foreleg.

Stepping into the fray out of the haze the large zebra hurled the electricity encircled sword at him, catching it as he knocked it back. All the other zebras stepped far back to hunker down and watch. This zebra spun the weapon, throwing it once more to bounce off his armor leaving a jagged tear down the left side. This was no ordinary combatant. The sizzling sword was pulled by the cable to land in their grip again. The pony ran at his opponent, over and over he slashed the sparking weapons at the zebra only to barely miss and come away with yet another tear across his armor. Soon he would be in serious trouble. Other fighting practically ceased by this time.

The ponies could not approach and offer support while the rest of the zebras held this position. They did take advantage of this time to pull wounded out of harms way at last. The two fighters spun and twisted, trying to find any gap in the others defense. Armored as he was made him slower. So closely and intensely they were fighting that no clear shot could be taken. At such great range it would risk hitting this champion of pony kind. Another rake across his armor proved this was by no means an even match. Both knocked the other away to bolt against yet again, striking weapons throwing off showering sparks everywhere. These two locked in mortal combat seemed to notice little else.

This titanic clash came to a sudden end in a most horrifying way. Time itself felt as if it slowed when the pony desperately threw himself towards the zebra, directly striking the swords power pack at nearly the same instant the sword was swung in wide to slice through his armor and pierce his own. The zebra was blasted away as the pack exploded from the charge to roll and land slumped, obviously dead. The pony took two lurching steps forward and stopped. The stunned silence was broken as a terrible thud came from within the armor, flames shot forth from the many slices in the sides and out from the cracked visor.

For a moment this horrific sight stood, his head tilted to the left before the whole suit went crumpling forward and to the side as it crashed into the ground. This momentary hero fell, and with that the battle was over. In almost the blink of an eye all the zebras withdrew into the dust. Whatever pushed them to fight this hard dwindled as one of their best fell. Both sides had enough for now. The carnage for the moment was finally at an end, but this could hardly be called a victory. At best it would allow only a brief respite before a new fight would be taken up elsewhere. Gathering the fallen was a grim task sure to sicken even the hardiest souls. The bloodied army would tend their wounds and fight another time.

Many proud heroes met their end this day, he was merely another. Somewhere out of sight a zebra buried a small box before slipping into the shadows with the rest.

That just had to hurt, probably a lot.

Beneath A Colorless Sky

Roving under the once clear and beautiful skies now blanketed in endless gray, the ponies who once were absolute masters of their world struggle just to carry on. Survival is the only order of the day. The one time gorgeous landscapes from forests to lakes and lush valleys now lay blasted, dead. Any glimpse of beauty a pale and sickly mirror of what was. Looking to the forever hazy horizon there is no trace of the former glory the land enjoyed. Everything ends, even the infinite which must inevitably circle back to wherever it started from. The end of the shining age of Equestria was instigated by jaded hearts driven by even more jaded souls.

The trackless, open wilderness which once stood an uninviting place is infinitely worse now, only able to engender fearful feelings. Nothing left to stir the hearts and minds of those just brave enough to take a fleeting look. The many in and around the great gilded capital city suffered most when it fell. Ages later, atop the crumbling remains of grand towers, a single tattered flag, once flowing proudly in announcement of the city's glory to an adoring populace, still somehow hangs, frayed strands of fabric left static in mute monument to the distant past. From afar the bold city, once the truest emblem of hope sits silent and still. Only an embittered memory of a ruin as even it succumbs to age and decay. Hope itself died here.

The leaden heavy weight of this creeping decay rises upon the battlements of this bastion. Glancing at it sidelong, this bejeweled spectacle of a city could almost be imagined to still stand proud and defiant. The quiet city just sleeping, almost. Reality soon reasserts itself. Even the light fled this place, keenly aware of what was being lost. The very heart of their society left to crumble. Some might dream of looking down from the lofty heights afforded the city. Only a dream, one which cannot be. The sun nor moon can never again look upon this affront to the light, if they could indeed look at all. No peace can be granted to the slumbering city, stark and dim it remains.

One of the glamorous palace rooms still decorated as if awaiting to host the next party, one which was to play host to a wedding. The table is set with all manner of exquisite adornment, fitting for the grandeur the city enjoyed. The kitchens, once a lively place full of banter stand ready for the master chef and the myriad cooks under their expert direction to prepare a fine meal for their guests. No guests will set hoof here anymore. The city, long an anchor, a central stronghold against the storm of conflict ever spiraling out of control became a victim of its own success. The very central target of all whose hearts turned to hatred, a prize so far beyond claim it had to be destroyed.

The bustling daughter town of Ponyville many miles away yet still barely within sight of the enormous glimmering capital fell to its own ruination. Many a hapless citizen fell victim here, both during and after war came straight to them. The Golden Oaks library which once served as a beacon in the darkest night turned to a twisted shell of its former self, a place of misery and death. The few remaining buildings torn and weary of bothering to remain upright in this oppressive atmosphere full of pain sit idle, waiting for the first dim rays of dawn which never come. The land sits in gloom, empty and waiting. The quiet whispers of happy times now even less than a distant forgotten memory.

There was hope here too, a hope that dwindled to a dying ember until the light finally gave out. This dying light gave way to an unending mockery of life. The great war brought fear which could only be followed by defeat. Nowhere could the sting of this defeat be felt more strongly than in looking upon these two hapless, once joyful places of old. Approaching either now could only be considered the thought of a suicidal mind. There are quite a few now, left wandering aimlessly through the wastes with no reason, no feeling and no greater goals. Aspiration to loftier heights is a thing left to the past. Nowhere fared well, that which is great does not discriminate between what it strikes down.

War was thought to be a trivial nuisance, albeit horrible. Nothing that would ever touch the very hearts of the ponies great works, their cities and towns for a time thought immune to the ravages of war. On the very edge of final victory one fell, then another at the end of this sickening game of dominoes. All they could do was run in terror as their proud army, the great defenders of the common good were swept away along with everything else to leave only suffering in place of pride. Suffering is the name of that day, that day when life stopped, and all days after. The tumbledown patches of civilization barely clinging to existence rapidly dispersed.

Any hint of true leadership vanished with the howling wind of destruction. How it came to be this way ceased to matter. The very instant the first megaspell was initiated the world itself almost seemed to tremble in fear. It took a ridiculously short span to reduce life to this cycle of constant misery. Taken for granted, the luxuries of the old world were reduced to rubble, the playthings of the past sometimes hanging on just long enough to cause some new terror to arise. On that day when hope met its end, somewhere one of great burden finally emerged from a very dusty cave to find his world gone. Shattered like so much glass, his heart and soul grew cold.

Just another embittered spirit left reeling in the aftermath. Choosing a new path he wandered forth into the dark and misery, his own suffering just begun.

Some choices hurt much more than others, how painful will this one be?

Tides

One would think when the world ends, hatred would end along with it. This is an illusion, an unfulfillable dream that will never come to pass until all existence itself ceases to be. War is simply the most obvious play of unchecked hatred. It takes many forms, sometimes even masquerading as truth. It never is. Justice and right failed the ponies of Equestria. The only real truth of such hatred is that it feeds and grows on more hatred in an endless, nigh-unbreakable cycle of bitter tears. The great war that ravaged the land and consumed everywhere else during the course of nearly two decades ended in the very fires of hatred itself, yet even this terrible conflagration could not put a final end to this bitterness.

It simply took on new forms, continuing as it ever does. How dark and terrible can one's own suffering be to desire only its infliction on others? Some embittered souls such as these survived the end of everything. In their misery, instead of learning from this mistake they chose to pass this hatred on once more and continue the cycle. Even now, blinded by the allure and ease which hatred offers, some ponies still fail to realize the awful truth staring them in the face. Their very hearts grow ever more poisoned by this insidious hatred. The truth is obvious, something which should be plain for all to see. There is only one thing in all the world capable of breaking such hatred's icy grip.

The vast dullness of the wastes kills hope for the end of hatred even as it arises. It has done so for all the long days through the empty decades since the end. No champions have arisen to take up this dulled cup, left to tarnish. The fear and terror is too great, too formidable. Yet, even in this life of sheer hopelessness pure hearts still exist and wish for more. Despite constant pain and sorrow the want for justice and right is deep-seated. For some it is simple as wanting a fair deal, for others it is a matter of keeping the playing field level for all. Sadly, this ingrained need has often destroyed as much as was saved, sometimes more.

The echoing cries of war rang out for uncounted empty days in the very name of justice, and in Equestria even seeking such justice became just another twisted effort corrupted by this futility. On the surface all seemed as it ever was, even as the framework of justifiable law fell apart. Had the war ended in victory would true justice ever have been restored? In swapping justice for perceived victory the great pony races found they also removed from themselves the ability to pursue happiness, letting only misery fall in upon them from all quarters. The royals took little or no action to rectify this state of affairs, seeking only their victory, many times turning a blind eye to their subjects suffering.

Perhaps wallowing in their own misery and seeing their land being engulfed in the same, the decision was to let justice fall by the wayside. Success in war is a difficult measure. What does victory actually mean when the very values one is sworn to uphold are left in so many tatters? Many of the ponies in the combined Equestrian army were just as blinded in their pursuit of justice, piling blame even on the innocent. Much like the ponies, not every zebra wished to fight either or become embroiled in the vagaries of war. Seeking asylum put them in just as much danger. Their culture, mannerisms and laws so dissimilar to the ponies own invited deep mistrust. They too could only wish for the impossible.

Simply wishing has never been enough, actions have always spoken louder. Today, seeking an end to the suffering the land and all else has endured is no simple task to be undertaken. Horrors once confined to the realm only of nightmares roam nearly unchecked, when encountered they pose a threat to even the most hardened souls. Sadly such things are hardly the only threat to life and limb. Ponies themselves pose as much and sometimes an even greater threat. Among the pony races once relatively unknown traits of greed, tyranny and the imposition of fear rise in their hearts, along with the hatred which nurtures them. It festers and grows ever more, posing its challenge to any who would dare fight back.

This hatred goes uncontrolled and unhampered by justice. Just another silly thing long forgot from the past. Heroes so often fail they may no longer exist. Thus far any that would dare speak of justice have quickly found themselves overmatched and dispatched by far darker hearts. Cold and still embittered at the loss of their world the shadows of pain and suffering spread, seeking only to cause more of the same. Sometimes justice itself must take the darkened path. Many times its unleashed fury has laid waste to more than it was worth. How much fury must be building when justice has been unable to act for so long? It has been said justice is kept blind because of this very thing, to serve all in equality.

What happens when the blinders are off? There are countless sad, empty and lonely ways to to die in the wastes. Should the pursuit of justice add yet more? Somewhere, forgotten in the desolate emptiness of the wastes a statue of the personification of justice stands alone, once surrounded by a beautiful quiet grove where ponies could reflect and enjoy the day under her eternal watch. Those that truly upheld the law have ever served her first, their leaders second. One could imagine perhaps she is saddened by the carnage all have endured since that happy time. Upon her outstretched hoof she holds aloft in gilded promise the golden scales of justice, its unerring blade still strapped to her back, ready to strike true if called upon once more.

Her weary visage has long withstood the test of time since far before the war. Her sculptor was a pony from yesteryear who absolutely loved life, one who understood the real value of freedom and the necessity of law to protect that freedom. He would have been very proud to know she would stand through it all, but if he knew what awaited her in the distant future he would have wept for her, his finest work. Pointing towards the horizon she has continued this lonely vigil against such insurmountable hatred in hope. Inscribed upon the statues base etched in unyielding stone is her promise of equality for all.

The heavy stone blinders once seeming so permanent have slowly crumbled away to reveal this distant horizon and the sad truth to her angered eyes. Her ideals should never have been abandoned, for along with them went all reason and all hope for a bright future. A future that for many would never come. The burden justice carries is the heaviest of all. As the pain that has befallen the world is revealed to her you can almost hear her anguished cry, calling for a return to reason. The great statue almost seeming to weep in pain and sorrow for all those lost to such a malediction, all this an intolerable insult to that which stands for good. Justice is unyielding as it must be, always standing alone in front of all others.

She may only act on behalf of those who already possess the will to step forth with the courage to denounce wrong, regardless of what pain it means they must face in doing so, and bolster their strength to endure with her own. This unparalleled strength has been held in check ever since that vaguely remembered time when kindness, compassion and empathy were held dear to ponies hearts, now drawn astray by the misleading promises of hate. The ponies once true to her fallen for the lie, she must be very angry. The strength of true justice once felt solidly throughout the land has languished and been forgotten, tossed aside like so much trash and trod upon in callousness.

Is it possible even now for her to still stand true to the ponies of Equestria? Who can know such things? She is but a concept, a creation of like minds. Some might say little more than an illusion crafted in an effort to help make sense of the world. Her strength, however, has always stood undeniable, illusion or not.

Somewhere those flickering eyes once more seeking, but what?

Dance of Distant Waters

The science vessel 'A Priori' was the most well-equipped research ship ever conceived by combined pony intellect, an idea put forth oddly enough by the ministry of arcane sciences. Constructed in secret, it was a calculated gamble. It was a standout asset from the outset. From the very moment it was launched it proved itself to be of enormous scientific value. A small army of scientists, combat engineers, biologists and magic specialists practically lived on this powerhouse, if not always harmoniously. It held little in the way of conventional armaments, despite this it was considered to be a match for even their largest battleship.

Experiments on everything from powerful repulsion field generators to magitech disruptors were tested from aboard this floating platform. No expense was spared. Where the funding came from, who knows? Somepony was paying, and no one really cared otherwise. It plied the waves for many years. A prestigious -- and dangerous -- post for the ambitious, those that knew about it anyway. At her heart she was powered by a colossal twin engine bank. Some sort of reactor was aboard, but almost nopony knew what fueled it and none would say anything on the matter. Well-built by any standard her one mission was simple enough.

Seek any and all means by which they might overcome their adversaries or protect themselves. A rather broad scope, some might say perhaps too broad. Mishaps and pursuant damage to the ship itself were commonplace. Aside from the near-constant repairs it held up well. During one of her continual forays she seemingly went out of control for a full hour, then actually disappeared without a trace for an entire day without any explanation. When contact was reestablished not one of the crew could remember anything about what happened. None appeared worse for wear and were right back on the job. The incident cemented her reputation in inner circles.

On the very final day of the war she was heading for a small hidden port somewhere to the southwest end of Horseshoe Bay for minor repairs yet again. This time a shielding experiment had gone terribly awry blowing a small section of deck plating right off, resulting in a small fire which raged through an auxiliary lab and wounded several of the crew. She would never reach the port. As she was already damaged, even she proved no match for the incoming blast, despite her protection. It spread across the water amplifying itself into an enormous wave, then engulfed the ship and shoved her far off course. The instruments told them what was coming. At that moment, the great hulk was tossed about like a toy.

Everypony aboard died despite their best efforts to stave off the blast using a combined magic dispersion and kinetic energy diffusion device. The crew did their very best to save her and themselves, but pooling the combined power of all the unicorns and ships power shunts was still not enough. The captain whose last received order was to keep the ship as far away from shore as possible could not lock her course or engage the self-destruct mechanism before he too succumbed. Somehow, be it by divine providence or who knows what, with no living crew and her throttles left open full-bore she was cast adrift for nearly 160 years.

As it eventually took to ground a terrible scream echoed from the twisting hull like some agonized spirit abode within her, wailing in sadness. After slamming through a reef and somehow still afloat the immense hull -- abused for so long -- gave way and shattered almost in half. Finally, after all the decades randomly meandering across the sea aimlessly like some great lost ghost she had unceremoniously smashed into the shoreline where she dug an enormous groove and was ripped nearly in twain, spilling untold contents as it slowed to a halt and settling ironically close to her intended destination.

The uniquely well-crafted and tuned Parsley and Company engines still powered the broken propeller cranks for a full half-hour before completely destroying themselves, hurling the last huge propeller nearly a hundred meters from the remains of the ship. The bulk of the once mighty ship is now eerily quiet and still. Sitting in her watery grave half-submersed, the once proud vessel itself just another hapless victim of war. There it lay forgotten like so many other things. The whole purpose of her existence was to find ways to save lives, but in the end she could not even save her own crew or herself. A support vessel named 'Aurora' was escorting her to port and fared even less well.

The ships themselves were an experiment in automation, requiring only a skeleton crew for normal seafaring operations. This was one of those times for the escort. The initial shockwave caused the comparably tiny craft to careen into the side of the much larger ship sending it to the bottom of the sea mere seconds later. With little warning and no chance the smaller of the two exploded on impact with the heavily armored hull to sink beneath the waves in so many pieces, taking her crew along with her as they were pushed apart. Incredibly, the larger ship took almost no damage from this collision, likely owing to the activation of the diffusion units.

To the very end the massive research vessel continued collecting data. The instrument banks performed dutifully until the last minuscule spark of energy reached them, fulfilling at least that much of her purpose to the last second. There were few official records of either ships existence. If anything, they were phantom vessels from the moment construction began. Their history gone, none recall the tale of the poor lost ships, and they were hardly the only vessels lost at sea during that great conflagration. It was a miserable end for any. Quiet enveloped the vessel when the engines finally spun down for the last time. Who knows what the fine ship may have seen in her unguided wanderings? Perhaps her story is not yet over.

Or, maybe she was just out of her depth.

Rumble in the Broncs

Much of the great cities of old were laid waste. In stark remembrance some structures by some quirk of positioning or fate were left standing. Some useful. Some dangerous. Some simply ponderous and utilized in some way nopony remembers. Memorials to lost souls and long forgotten heroes also remain. Standing in silent protest of their poor treatment they give and receive little. Not a mention or a thought still given to the countless lives destroyed by a war recalled almost as legend itself. If no one is left to mourn their passing do they still hold any importance? Was their suffering all for nothing? A monument to such things feels no pain, no regrets.

With none left to give it meaning and weight it is only a signpost pointing backwards. A reminder of what should never have been. The warnings it gives heeded by none in the given world. They died by scores in unintelligible number and in their passing could tell none to come after why they were left with a barren core instead of the bright and prosperous world they were promised by those now gone. Ponies found themselves wandering in the dark, alone and without aid. Their only inheritance a world shorn of reason, logic and hope. As much as one might think it so, civilization did not simply cease to function.

There was just no one powerful enough left to keep the remnants together and so they all parted to seek whatever fortunes were left to them in this miserable place. Hardly the only time such a thing has happened, but never on this scale. History is replete with turning points, but usually someone is left to remember them. No one in Equestria remembers much of anything save perhaps that they were cheated in the most miserable way possible. This dim flame of a memory is held in odd reverence. Surely the blame lays solely on zebra kind. All their fault the world was left teetering on the edge of utter collapse. This one tiny sliver of hatred is very much held in ponies hearts even now.

Ponies were cheated out of their victory, and their society. But where really were the ponies in all of this? Did they take some part in the massive destruction that laid waste their own villages, towns, and cities? Their successors may never know the real truth of such matters. Even if they did, would it make even the slightest difference in an effectively dead world? Almost all out for their own sake means little solidarity to be found, much less trustworthy companions and the sort of friendships that could lead to a better future. No thought of a government. No thought of a real town, a real city where once more the power of true good might come to settle.

In this world the powerful very seldom take note of the needs others have. Should any now attain the sort of power that could be used towards the betterment of all it is generally twisted into some perversion of their own desires instead. Some still feel that tiny tug within. That barely noticeable desire for peace and stability. So unknown they barely know what the feeling is. Even unknowing, it is a feeling felt by any who still let themselves start to care. Some wisp of fragmented memories somewhere inside just clinging to existence. Feelings of what should be. What was lost to them. How horrible things truly are. The tiniest hint trying to push their hearts towards what is right. What they deserve.

Occasionally a wandering griffon or pony, or perhaps even something else finds a little thing which helps them remember, and hits them harder than any bullet ever could. A solid gut check to remind at least one or two what is actually missing in life. What has always been denied them. A hit so much harder than anything else could possibly give to them. Sometimes the contrast of their past given so clear only a heart made of solid stone could ignore what it means. The all-encompassing loss and sadness such a discovery stirs cuts impossibly deep and torments its discoverer to no end. Pain is well known in the wastes, but some pains are indescribable, unbearable.

The weighty pain of knowing the truth is sometimes worse than all other things. The ponies lost their world, and somehow even more than that. In that great war which brought absolutely everything to a screeching halt they lost so much more. Some lost their lives. Sometimes they even lost themselves. In a great war that brought everything to this screeching halt, sometimes they lost so very much more. Rarely is there no forgiveness at all. In the face of this, what was there really to forgive? Those responsible already paid a hefty price long ago. A price which was so great it stands beyond compare. A steep sum given to leave even this much behind.

That ponies still alive today even were allowed this much was owed to predecessors who gave up everything and more to leave something, anything, for them. With so much time gone by the silence grows ever more deafening. In the end those with ears to hear and eyes to see must listen and look intensely or miss the oncoming storm and be taken unaware as they all were. It was always there to be stopped. A single pony stating a resounding 'no' and a call to action might have been enough to stop it in its tracks. The serpentine lies that spread and confounded society were left to fly unhampered and unimpeded by those who should have listened and acted. Fear is the easiest thing to spread in the whole world.

All it needs is a single seed left unchecked to grow roots as deep as the tallest mountains. It is just as easy to stop if anyone notices. It only takes the courage to face it. No one did. Ponies held like frightened foals onto the lies and the fear they muster. Lies really are easier, more comforting than confronting and facing off against the truth. The truth is painful. It hurts as much as any wound ever has. It cuts deep. Sometimes the truth destroys everything around it. The absolute worst thing to ever happen during the war was not the war itself. The worst thing to come from the war was an endless web of deceptions presented as those very truths.

If the majority on either side had realized what they were truly doing to one another and to themselves they would certainly have let the truth stand for all to see and things would surely have turned out differently. The long shadows cast by the ending they let swallow them stretched out over the length and breadth of all the land like a cold and bitter wind, carrying only death and sorrow with it. There is no limit placed upon the depths of sadness or pain if none will step up. The dim light left to filter in through the hurriedly closed skies ensured what little was left could only know of finality. In the dark and stilled lands the all-consuming quiet stands heavy upon it ever after.

Once upon a time ringing bells calling out to the glory of the beautiful joyous days fell silent. The true warmth of the sun dimming to leave only a fading, forbidding memory. The celebration of all that was life left only a barren shell of itself. A pitiable emptiness for all that was and is. Little comes out of such an ending save pain. A nearly bottomless pit of grief for those perhaps unlucky enough to have survived. Their hearts and souls shattered, their will broken. Who could blame them? Their world ripped from them on the cusp of their long-awaited victory. The quiet land gives forth the faintest whispers of a prosperous and storied past. No one hears it calling. Every day is the same, filled with the same emptiness.

When Equestria was brightly lit by the golden hues once raining from on high only a terribly greedy soul could be left feeling wanting. All the delicate beauty of their world turned to darkness. The sun wanting to shine across the land as it always did finds no way to break through. It holds out merely the faintest light for those below. If it could scream in despair would they hear it? Its dim hidden rays now only just enough to keep the world below alive. Only just. The sun is very strong, but in the face of this even it pales. Little quirks of fate left the ponies and all others almost nothing but solitude. Not even the sun with all its great strength could stop this from happening.

What keeps pushing these empty days ever adding to the total of despair and loneliness? Even now however, the faintest flickering sparks of hope remain. Almost gone, when ignited they still fight back with conflagrate fury against the darkness. Longing and yearning inside for something they cannot describe or understand anymore, ponies are left clinging only to a desperate life starved of all the little things that make life worth living in the first place. It breeds even more pain. The fires of passion and truth once brightly burning in their hearts now not even a faint memory. The cold and dark of their anger growing deeper with every passing moment, every day, every year. Every second hurts.

Once a triumphant march towards the future is now a slow crawl for simple survivals sake. Why not take advantage of others? Why not bend them to your own will? What does it matter now? The world already died. If you can do it, why stop there? Already pushed to the brink and left gazing into the abyssal depths there are many who try to do precisely that. Claim it all for yourself. If you push, sometimes there really are none who can stop you. They once died defending one another from this very sort of thing. Sometimes ponies themselves become the monsters now. Should they not be stopped? Why bother?

Live a quiet life and hide cowering in terror for all your days, at least you live, or choose to be one of them. What other choice can there be? But wait a moment, what about those little things called feelings? Almost forgotten, they still exist. Most of those that still live try to deny them, they will never succeed. Feelings are a thing of the mind, the heart, the very soul of ponies. Feelings once meant everything to them. Even stripped from them by the ills of the world it still tries to work its way to the surface. How much it takes is entirely up to each in turn. Many now imagine it would just be better without them. If you don't feel anything nothing can hurt you, but is that really the case?

In this dim future where the light touches nothing and hope fails every dead minute, surely feeling nothing at all would be better? Some think this is so, and would do just about anything to achieve it. Anything to make it all better, or perhaps only to make their own suffering end. Walking through one of the twisted but still accessible sections of Manehattan a grim-faced earth pony whose powder blue coat was dulled with dirt and grime slipped nearly silently through the mangled streets. So covered in dirt was he that his mark could not be seen. Creeping up behind a thug wearing a spiked hoof-band he silently cracked him at a very specific point on the back of his neck, killing him instantly to be dragged off into the shadows.

The rest wouldn't notice him missing for some time. He'd been hurt, beaten by his captors that he was now taking out one by one. He was only after a few very specific ponies. Only a few of which he intended on killing. The rest were just in the way. Seething with hatred for them after what they'd done earlier left him hardly thinking about anything other than completing this violent task. It was a grim and dangerous thing being done now. In any other situation he would never have set out to kill another, let alone more than one. They brought this on themselves, and they were going to pay. These vile thugs were out in force.

He did not look in any of their eyes as he picked off his targets, they deserved no respect or mercy and would not receive any from him. His heart was not truly in this, it simply needed to be done. Pay. Make them pay. These were the only things on his mind as he used all his skill to maneuver unseen between each in turn. Watching them fall dead left no feelings at all right now aside from the terrible satisfaction of success. Knowing he should not be doing this didn't slow or stop him from exacting swift vengeance upon them. Every kill hurt. Doing this was against himself, leaving him feeling a strange twinge in his heart each time. Never in his life did he want to kill anypony, not really.

This situation was something new and strange, frightening. Not feelings he knew. Another would not have been successful in taking out these murderers. Now, there was going to be trouble.

"Forgive me, master." Wiping a tear from his eye he continued on his quiet spree. Four more fell before him in short order, the ones who caused him so much pain. At last he'd got all of them. Each time, tears flowed heavily. Standing above them in a pile, shaking as he looked over what he'd wrought and done to them. This was all so painful. His mind reeled at the realization he'd taken out all his targets. That he'd gone on a nearly mad killing spree really felt so bad.

There would be almost no time to consider this further at the moment. The worst of them now lay dead, but there were a great deal of other thugs still searching as he was forced to flit from one dark corner to another. He could not possibly elude them all this way. Finally, forced into a dead end, he found himself cornered in a wide alleyway by a large group. They were very angry now, almost crazed. There would be no avoiding a fight with them now, also something he did not really want to do. This would be an impossibly tough fight for any other pony, even for him this was about to test his skill to the very limits.

"Lookit what we've got here! Get that prissy escapee, Boss wants his head!" The one standing in front pointed, yelling out to charge him. The blue pony lowered his head as they approached. The group seemed strangely wild, he would daresay almost feral but organized. He couldn't help but notice they all looked unusually similar to one another, brushing it off as simple coincidence. No avoiding it. None.

"You give me no choice." He whispered, tensing more and more as the group of twenty approached, each with a maniacal gleam in their eyes. As they approached he simply stood there, watching.

He was actually expecting a lot more than this. There definitely were many more around, why weren't they here, too? About to do something dangerous he almost shook with building adrenaline. This might even work. As the first reached him he said only one thing more.

"Supīdo." With incredible agility and speed, the tense ball of a pony launched himself at these thugs arranged in scattered array against him as they swung chains, bats and other assorted weapons in nearly futile effort. Practically dancing around them in turn a quarter of the group were already out cold.

Spinning and flipping to the side, a nailboard missing him by mere inches as he practically bounced off the wall of the alley to ram a hoof into the thugs skull sending him flying into two others unconscious as he quickly sidled past four more, causing them to run into each other in a tangle. Rapidly smashing their heads into the alley wall to quickly be knocked out as well.

"Why can't I hit you!?" The heaviest and largest of the group growled, swatting at him again and again to strike nothing but air while he backed up, suddenly repositioning himself forward, almost in the thugs face.

As he backflipped, both hind legs connected, hooves solidly striking the heavy bruiser in the chin sending him prone and landing the whirling wrecking ball of a pony rolling backwards to fall in between a group of five. Dropping to the ground on his back he spun with his legs out wide, smacking all of them away painfully. Springing upright immediately afterwards, his hooves cracked four of them across the head in one spin. Deftly dodging everything being thrown at him to cartwheel off another into a leap atop one of his attackers. The remainder all swung their weapons at him only to miss as he jumped off, all their weapons brutally striking the hapless thug at the same instant and rendering one more unconscious.

This blurry ball of pain kicked another in the head before even hitting the ground. As he landed his forehooves struck both sides of ones knee, shattering it, sending him falling back screaming. The three still standing looked between one another, dropped their weapons and fled. He let out a heavy breath. These kind of moves took a lot out of him. He should not let that be seen. Always keep your weaknesses to yourself. If there were any more he might not have been able to take them.

"You. We are going to have a conversation about Boss. Who is he? A slaver? What does he want? Why did he have my master killed?" The still-conscious thug with the broken knee backed into the ancient alley wall, whimpering in pain as he approached.

The thug stood there shivering, shaking his head from side to side vigorously. He looked positively pathetic, less a pony and more a mass of fear. Something about this entire mess felt seriously amiss. Just looking at the quivering thug he could tell this fear was not of him at all.

"No, no no no no no! I don't know anything. None of us do. He'll do such horrible things to us if we don't obey. Please, just go away!" He whimpered and just looked down as the blue pony stared incredulously. This band of thugs surprised and captured them both, dragging them in ropes before a mysterious pony they called Boss.

He could barely see him in the dark when he ordered his master beheaded right in front of him. Boss seemed to derive a perverse pleasure from seeing his horrified reaction. The blue pony was unsure why he hadn't been killed right then as well, instead being tied up. A great deal of time later he managed to work free of his binds, did they simply forget he was there? Using the secrets his master taught him, and the great stealth he'd honed over the years let him pass undetected out of the dim place. These underlings were sent after him the moment it was noticed he was gone. Even as they hunted him, he hunted them. Now, this one was begging him to go away? All of this made little sense. None at all.

His master never harmed any that did not deserve it, and never killed. He'd taught him a rare fighting discipline after taking him in that was never to be used offensively, but now he'd used it in that forbidden way. Why would anypony want his master dead? This was ludicrous, and now this horrible pony was crying?

"Why should I leave you alone? You and your little band brought us to him. Now my master, the one good thing in my whole life is gone. I am going to stop him, whoever he is." He huffed in anger, making the thug burst into wild laughter. What in the world?

"Hahahahahhhh..stop him!? Stop Boss? You can't stop him, nopony can stop him. Compared to him we are weak, pitiful little foals. He's invulnerable, even to somepony like you. Run run away, little pony. Run as fast and as far away as you can and never look to cross his path again." That was creepy. Was this pony completely insane? Leaving him sitting against the wall cackling like a madpony he strode out of the alley, bewildered at what he was hearing. What would he do now, without his master? He was never without him before, at least as long as he could remember. The thought never crossed his mind that a pony who always seemed so strong and wise could be taken so unaware, or that he could ever die.

A lonely bitterness filled his heart as tears flowed. His master always taught him to try and do right, be better so that others could see and become better themselves. What did it matter now? They were just empty words. Meaningless.

"No, no.. he meant the things he said with all his heart, even to his last breath. How could I think that of him?" He held a hoof to his head, panting heavily for a moment and moved on. This Boss pony whoever he really was, presented a clearly dangerous and vicious threat. Somehow he'd instilled such fear in these ponies they thought he was invincible. Who could he be? Why was he gathering these ragtag misfits together anyway? They weren't very bright.

Oddly, there wasn't a single unicorn amongst them. Still, there were many more than the group he took out in the alley. He'd let most of those after him live except for the few directly involved in his masters death. Where he'd escaped from seemed like it was just full of them. Where did Boss even find them all?

"I'm going to need help with this, but who could possibly help me take him out?" Dejectedly he cautiously walked through the remains of one of the northeasternmost sections of Manehattan. Once, long ago, it was a bright cultural melting pot.

This city was now just another dead husk of a place, all real makings of life drained from it by the end of the war. As with everywhere else it fared little better than most major population centers. In sadness he trotted towards one of the many broken and unused little buildings he and his master called home, perhaps no longer. It would take a while to get back there. Instinctively stopping at the strange feeling of being observed just as a heavy blast of something green rocketed past his head tearing out a chunk of the nearby corner wall. Never having seen or heard of such a thing left him taken aback by the massive power of whatever weapon was now being used against him.

Diving backwards, another shot added more damage to the already tortured street. This was insane. What was going on here? Multiple shots streamed towards him as he dove again for cover. Not good. Terrible in fact. He was in no condition to deal with this.

"What the.." He was interrupted by a further few blasts melting and destroying the whole wall he just hid behind, forcing him to dodge and try to circle away from wherever it was coming from. Such power was being employed against him. Surely he wasn't worth this?

Having managed to cross into another short alleyway he was at least out of sight of whatever was firing at him. Trying desperately to slip away he turned multiple corners and criss-crossed amongst the many ruined and destroyed streets and the skeletal remains of buildings he knew well from years of scavenging. Hopefully in doing so he'd managed to elude his pursuer. Sheer luck only. Really not good.

"What was all that craziness about?" Leaning against a chunk of wall he took a moment to catch his breath before moving on. To use such force against him seemed ridiculous.

It was likely best he not try to go towards what was called home at the moment. There was something terrifically strange going on here. In all his roaming, he'd never encountered anything even remotely like that. He would have to find somewhere else to rest and recover. The technique he used on the large group was one his master taught him to use sparingly as a last resort. True, it was nearly unbeatable, but performing it left him near-exhausted. As it was he could not take on another opponent and hope to win. He absolutely must find a safe place to rest quickly. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

"I'm so tired. Got to keep moving. Oww. That kind of hurts. Much more than I remembered." It always did, and always had.

Learning such moves was painful enough in itself. Actually employing them in a real fight was far worse. One leg was twinging badly from the exertion and running. It was even difficult to feel like he was getting enough air, leaving him sucking in deep breaths heavily with each step. Every labored breath burned a little, making it a struggle just to keep walking. Feeling greater pain than he'd endured in quite a long time was hardly an enviable position to be in. The pain of each breath making him wheeze a little too loudly. That could easily give away his position to a determined pursuer. Each step was leaden, slow, laborious. It was hurting worse, and worse.

"I have to stop. I have to stop somewhere. That little spot. It's close. Got to get there." Quiet whispers to himself that he could not faint out in the open were the only thing keeping his hooves moving right now and his eyes from closing.

"I haven't needed to do that in so long. I nearly forgot how tiring and painful it is." Huffing deeply he carefully peered around each corner, trying to remain undetected. He would not be able to keep dodging in this state, and was already severely wracked with pain. Fortunately, his effort to escape seemed to have paid off. At last able to move about undeterred he found an empty shell of a building, hiding himself in a dark corner within to rest.

It would not be comfortable, but it would have to serve. His eyes closed quickly. When he awoke only about an hour had passed. The true toll of the fight was evident. The little rest helped. It still left him trembling, sweating profusely, shaky and aching all over. The extra exertion of escaping on top of the strain from the fight pushed him a little too far over the edge, something his master warned was very dangerous. It was definitely true. His heart hurt. It would take a whole day before he was truly recovered. Another matter impressed itself upon him. A lot of food and water was badly needed now, something there was a decent amount of if he could just get home unimpeded. Those kind of moves burned energy.

A lot of it. There wasn't much at home, but represented the sum total of their constant scavenging. It would definitely be enough to keep the two of them going for a while. Now those supplies would last a great deal longer on his own. Daring to sneak a peek outside revealed nothing unexpected.

"Master...I am so sorry. Through your death I could not uphold your ideals. You taught me not to kill in anger and never for revenge. I just couldn't help myself. I felt so much rage. I have failed you." Sniffling he set out for home, this time keeping out of sight wherever possible. His master was the only thing in life he cared about.

Having found him wandering as a young colt either abandoned or his parents perhaps dead, he'd taken him in. He'd taught him of honor and the concept of right from wrong, and of justice, almost speaking of each as if in sad reverence of them. Where he'd learned of these things was never spoken except to say they once held great importance to ponies. Rarely they would encounter other ponies wandering the safer remaining portions of this section within the once grand city. They never traveled outside of it. There was no need to. They never even left this region of the city. It was familiar. Home. A home now being encroached upon, invaded.

These very rare meetings were usually brief, sometimes a bit hostile, but not once in all the years did it end in bloodshed. Even his coat seemed to droop. It felt so terribly hurtful inside now. A pain never experienced before. The kind of pain that no mere medicine could cure. Not that medicine was all that common in the wastes either. A highly prized commodity, it could just as easily harm as help anything. That sort of knowledge like most other things was uncommon at best, contorted and harmful in its use at worst. Especially the right way to use it. There was none for this, good or bad. Only a painful ache within that felt like an endless flurry of punches. So much pain. So much.

"We did everything right. Stayed out of sight. Never messed with anypony. Just like you wanted. How did they get the drop on us? On you? Why did they do it?" Head hanging low and almost shuffling along at the slowest pace he'd ever walked almost felt a bit embarrassing after so thoroughly trashing the thugs. It was all they could be described as. They certainly did not seem very intelligent. At least not as a whole. It was a good thing they weren't. In an up close and personal fight he absolutely held the advantage. He'd been trained for it. Never having imagined it would ever actually be necessary to do such a thing, to push or be pushed so hard. The danger in doing so was real.

Little twinging pains like before were settling across his entire body, lending urgency to reaching a truly safe spot. There was a bit of something for this sort of thing at home. Not much. Just enough to help his current condition. While making his weary way towards Buckner Park road and their well-hidden home in between two other tilted structures, a feeling of apprehension and foreboding fell upon him. He tried to shake this feeling as he carefully tested jogging along a little faster, but it would not leave him. Knowing to trust such a powerful instinctual feeling he stopped by a large pile of junk which tumbled from a smashed building long ago. Peeking to take a good look around, nothing obvious could seen.

It seemed as dead and empty as it ever did. Searching amongst the debris and stark portions of buildings and structures long left to rust and decay was not an easy matter. Puzzled, he stood looking around. Still drained from before was making for incredibly slow going anyway. A slight glint was just noticed in the distance above one of the larger structures as something hurtled towards him. They were blazing and fast approaching. Very fast.

"Not again!" He yelped, stepping back as a heavy green blast like before shot by, barely missing his left foreleg. It passed by so close he could feel heat emanating from it as a small hole melted in the ground.

There was no time to care about this as several more bursts were already heading straight for him from somewhere. Darting to the opposite side of where the blasts were coming from was his only chance, only just managing to jump right over one as it flew by he could tell he was in serious trouble once more. Rolling forward to land against an ancient wall gave him only an instant to recover as it too was melted away by the barrage. Where was it coming from? Their origin seemed to shift positions. A heavy piece of shattering brick hit just behind his right ear, making him stagger about on his hooves. Having only enough wherewithal to do so he ducked around the next corner.

He'd been left standing with a hoof to his head as blood trickled down his neck. The jagged cut was fairly deep. Dangerously so. No time to deal with that right now. Just more pain for later.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Showing your head in the open like that. This is not good. I haven't really recovered yet. How did they find me again so soon?" An admonishment to himself. This could be deadly and it was his own fault he'd been seen.

"Great. What do I do?" There were only a couple sparse buildings standing on this side of what used to be a street.

Going out there would mean crossing all that empty space with no cover at all. Here they were mostly in total ruins, but at least it provided some little bits of cover. This tattered shell was being blown to shreds by the strange green orbs which melted through everything they hit. They were either incredibly hot or caused damage in some other way he did not understand. A couple of them almost seemed to explode on contact with something. It was a good thing the one that landed under him had not reacted that way. Was there some difference? Did it matter what they struck which determined if it resulted in an explosion?

Never having actually seen a real explosion before was probably not helping his understanding of this either. Soon the entire remaining front wall would be gone. Where were these guys? Several buildings stood on the opposite side. One looked relatively more intact than the rest. Probably up there, but there was no way to be certain without going out to be shot at. The choice would soon be made for him. The old brick shuddered as more of it was torn away. It would start collapsing soon. Whatever he did was going to hurt. There was no avoiding it right now. He would have to move soon or be crushed by the swaying structure as it began to give way. Why would they expend so much power against him?

Were they seeking revenge for the dead thugs? They did not seem the sort to have friends, at least none that would have cared enough to bother. Most in the wastes didn't care. Why would they? He shut his eyes for the brief time left and took several very deep breaths. The thugs were the kind of ponies he'd once seen those with power over order to their deaths and in their insanity would gladly do it. Life mattered little anyway. He himself mostly didn't care either, and probably never would have at all if it weren't for... His eyes opened as he groaned, trying to think of what to do. In another moment or two the strange green orbs would tear down the entire remains of the small building he ducked behind.

He was perhaps the fastest earth pony alive, maybe ever. His master said so. It was time to find out if this was actually true. If it wasn't at least it would be over quickly.

"Focus, find the timing. I am lightning. I am speed. I can do this. I must do this. I AM speed." He let go of his head and turned to step out from behind what remained of the wall, jumping forward past one of the flickering green orbs as he practically flew across the ancient street. The steady stream of raining death turned towards him. Dodging between them he found there really was a slight delay between each.

Any seeing this would have marveled at this rocketing ponies momentum. He looked like little more than a streaking ball.

"3 seconds at most, generally 2." He thought as he jolted and dove around each almost as a blur. Where could they be? It was at this moment he realized it. There were two points of origin. The best thing to be done was go after what seemed to be the closest.

"Oh that's great. Fine, that one." He spoke while running and dodging.

Somewhere above on one of the crumbling rooftops was one of them. The other must be at ground level. There were at least two of them, possibly more. Weaving between the crossing orbs of death he was finally approaching the base of the building. Once inside the firing ceased. That run hurt. It would soon hurt much more.

"Why did it stop?" There was no time to wonder. Ignoring that, he began rapidly sneaking up the jagged flights of stairs. This particular building was very sturdy, but still damaged by neglect and disuse. It was six stories to the roof. He was uncertain how to approach this. Whatever he did it must be fast.

The one above surely knew he was coming, and the other was certainly going to move to a better vantage point while he was dealing with this. Altogether it was nothing but a bad situation he'd found himself trapped in.

"Now for it." Steadying himself he faced a door that contained almost certain death behind it. He stared a brief moment then bashed it open, immediately dropping to the floor as another blast flew overhead, knocking bricks loose. Now. Darting forward to avoid it he could now see a pony standing at the roof edge.

He was wearing some kind of hefty metal armor, holding aloft by a connected bar that ran behind the neck was some kind of weapon with green bits along the barrel and what looked like smoke pouring off the width of it. The weapon emitted an eerie hum as it discharged yet another blast. The fastest earth pony ever ran straight at this armored mountain of a pony before him, dodging each successive shot in turn. 2 seconds between each shot. Left. Right. Jump. Duck. Roll. Attack.

"This cannot be." A muffled voice came from within the helmet as the bolting pony whirled past a sixth shot.

"Hurricane kick!" The blue streaking sight of the pony was reflected in the armors visor as he leapt, spinning past yet another blast. His left rear hoof connected against the top of the helmet which caused a terrible ringing thud as it was forced to turn some by the impact, then the other hoof smashed straight into the visor with such force it shattered. It went straight through, striking square on the occupants eye with such tremendous impact it caused the heavy armored pony to scream from within as he tumbled over the edge of the roof. The quick earth pony fell on his back wheezing in pain, muscles cramping. It was almost too much to bear. No. He could not stop yet. Not yet.

"Darn it all! I didn't want to kill him... Move!" He ordered himself and painfully stood, peering over the edge as he wheezed.

"What? He's gone!" It was not possible. Surely a fall six stories straight down would have killed even the toughest pony. Despite the armor, if he did not die there was no way he could still move after that. Everything was wrong with this situation and it was only getting worse. Pain. Pain. Pain. Lungs hurting and burning so badly he could barely breathe made it so hard to think or move.

"Calm down. Think about it later, there's another one to deal with still. Oh, this hurts so much!" Grunting through labored breaths he forced himself to move back towards the door, being near the edge of the roof was too exposed. Wheezing in pain from the exertion and needing to move immediately like this was rapidly taking a serious toll on his body. It was far too soon to be doing anything even remotely like this. Fighting through the pain he slipped back down the stairs. Somewhere the other one was waiting to fire at him. He just knew it. Judging by how far away it was when he ran in here the other one could not have reached the building yet. This gave only a moment or two to work out some kind of plan.

The pain was so intense and getting worse with every movement. Being found like this was truly terrible luck.

"Have to think fast. What's my next move?" There was nothing really useful around here. The area was known well enough, but there were many semi-destroyed buildings around here yet to be explored thanks to an abundance of caution even his master heeded. Hiding behind things was only a good way to slow whoever these guys were down. Literally any cover would quickly be melted away.

"I cannot do that again, it would kill me. I have to get out of he.. aaah!" As if in reaction to his statement he was sent almost doubling and nearly falling downstairs clutching at his heart for a second with his left foreleg folded up against him at a serious stabbing pain radiating out from it. Trying to ignore this he moved down to the bottom floor. There was absolutely no time to wait or else wind up pinned in here. Slipping outside through the door the injured pony darted around the corner as quickly as he could just as another blast flung by. That one was much too close. So close in fact the end of one of his fetlocks caught on fire which was hurriedly put out. Any closer and it would have struck directly.

How far away could these guys fire from? Was there any limit? Did they ever run out?

"I knew it." He huffed. Almost stumbling he looked across to find more cover. A pile of old jagged pipes and broken bricks lay strewn around the area. Not much to hide behind there. A remaining piece of an ancient skycart lay across the other street. He didn't actually know what it was. It was the most substantial thing within reach in this condition. Knowing he could only move in short bursts or risk killing himself for them left no choice. His attackers would not be aware of this though, something he definitely did not want them to realize.

"Move. Move, hurt later." Willing himself to rush across at a sprint. No shots, they must be repositioning again. Why did they keep doing that? This might give the barest moment to plan the next move. He could not fight now. The only option was to get away from this onslaught against him. Why were they so bent on killing him anyway? Could they really be more of Boss' group? They seemed nothing similar to the thugs from before. These ponies were brutal but efficient, coldly calculating in their actions. It was necessary to do the same if there was to be any chance of surviving this. He must survive this or never find out what it was all about. That fact was driving. Painfully so.

"Blast it, why are they doing this?" A painful twinge as another mild bolt of pain shot from his heart. Unable to wait longer he ran towards an old half-destroyed goods warehouse which no longer held anything of value, but should provide ample opportunity to find cover. Here they come. More of the constant stream of green sizzling orbs shooting from somewhere. He'd seen guns before, and knew that they needed to be loaded. Where did they get so much ammo for something like this? Whoever they were, they excelled at obscuring their position. Much like himself. Not quite as good. At this range he was able to avoid them more easily as he made his way into the dilapidated structure.

It was a relatively large building in the past. Now, as many things it was just another large pile of sharp metal pieces and debris. Whatever was housed within was reduced to dust by whatever portion of a withering blast had swept through, causing much of the roof to collapse and the rear-facing wall to totally disintegrate. If anypony were in here they would have been atomized in an instant back then. He knew nothing of these things, only that he must keep moving away from the crazy ponies trying to end his life. Finding himself slowing down he realized he must do something to draw their attention away from him and gain some time to flee.

There must be something, anything here that could be used as a distraction. Nothing obvious. These ponies were taking potshots at him from as much distance as they could. They were out there, somewhere. At least judging from the one he'd seen covered in armor they looked like ponies.

"Gosh, they learn fast. Better come up with something. Think. I Have to think." He pushed himself hard to come up with anything. For now, all that could be done was to keep moving so that they also would have to keep repositioning to shoot at him. A dangerous thought came to mind. Moving to a window frame he poked his head up and yelled as loudly as possible.

It was time to play a dangerous game.

"Is that all you've got!? Quit boring me!" This could easily backfire, but there was little time or choice. A desperate action, trying to goad them into making some kind of mistake. Another shot flung past his head through the window, they really were good shots. Too good. The only thing which really saved him so far was his sheer speed and luck in finding cover. He could not possibly keep this up for much longer, it already hurt so incredibly badly. His leadenly pounding heart could not take much more of this. The firing stopped and things fell silent for an instant. Now what?

A far off clicking sound barely caught his ears followed by a whooshing noise. Almost not registering his own action he bolted behind the partial remains of a still standing thick pillar just as a strange long projectile shot through the empty window to smash into what was left of the opposing side to stick there. A quiet rapid beeping noise was heard coming from it. This could not be good. He did not know what this thing did but it was certainly a weapon of some sort. The only action to take was to get away from it. Leaping once more away from the pillar the device exploded sending chunks of cement and smoke everywhere.

Lucky once again to have found something to land behind he'd nevertheless been struck by numerous small sharp pieces, each cutting deep. Bleeding and panting heavily from the pain and exertion he knew this would be his only chance. Summoning all his will through the pain he ran off in the smoke. These ponies were utterly ruthless, he must get away now or die. Slipping as quickly through the smoke as he dared it seemed this gamble may be paying off, though at some cost to himself. Hurting was better than dead. Once clear of the smoke he quickly headed down another familiar street once more. This familiarity was likely all which saved him now. He managed to elude them again for the moment.

Now he was twitching in pain so intense it panged and jolted to move. Only once before in his entire life had he ever experienced pain anywhere near this bad.

"What do these guys want with me? Why are they trying so hard? Ahh..the pain is so much, master." His heart was hurting again and fluttering agonizingly off and on. If it was not possible to stop running and find safe shelter once more very soon he would die anyway. It seemed safe for the moment at least. Having to push so hard was nearly killing him. Now, he was injured in multiple places, one hit on his left flank just above his mark was bleeding more than the rest and even his neck.

This particular injury was by far the most serious. At least externally. Despite the knock to his head, that was only a glancing blow. If he kept rushing about like this with such a serious wound it would surely be exacerbated dangerously. Huffing terribly now the pain throughout his body was nearly overwhelming, the shock of it all almost resulting in losing consciousness. Vision starting to cloud he shook his head. Got to keep moving. Just a little more. Just a little.

"No, no. I Can't rest here." Fortunately luck seemed to be favoring today as he finally reached a hiding spot he'd picked out long ago in a little hole in the ground behind what was once a convenience store.

He did not know what it was, only that it was a small underground room beneath the collapsed structure. Most of it was inaccessible but he could easily hide undetected down here for a very long time if necessary. He would have to wait at least until nightfall to try moving again. Food and water would have to wait. It was far more important to rest now. Without stopping to rest his heart would surely give out. At last, at long last, no more running. Now he was a ball of agony.

"That was too close. One more push might have killed me. Master, what should I do?" Laying on his uninjured side he quickly succumbed to the sweet surrender of sleep.

A shadowy figure peered out at him, eyes glinting somewhere in the dark. Three hours later as his eyes fluttered open a hefty groan left his throat. Was that an odd dream? It felt wrong for a dream. It still hurt all over, everywhere. Everything ached, leaving him aquiver. Overexerted beyond critically. Surely there was no more painful a state to be in than this?

"This is not good. I still have not recovered from all that. It was too much." At least the bleeding seemed to be a little less. Utmost caution would be required to make it home now. No more mistakes. It could not be afforded, nor to lead them there. Any action taken now must be with complete confidence there was no following or being seen.

Somehow earlier they'd come after him a second time, finding him with ease. There could be no repeat of that or it would easily result in being finished off. Home, such a deep need to reach home soon. These injuries demanded proper attention and care. There was nopony to rely on now but himself. That realization hurt.

"So, a game of hide and seek is it? Well, we shall see about that. Bet I'm better at it." He mumbled. Unsteadily rising to his hooves the pain was found to be still quite sharp. He steadied himself. Some risk would have to be taken to move about. It was necessary to minimize exposure to open ground or streets.

Stepping up into the street once more to take a cautious look around revealed nothing just as before, and could be just as misleading. It was darker outside now, making it less likely for him to be spotted. Still, whoever these ponies were, they were no amateurs. Somehow one survived a solid blow, and what should surely have been a fatal fall from a great height. The other was extremely cautious. They both wielded strange weapons of devastating power with seemingly callous abandon. How did they obtain so much firepower? Right now he could not hope to face it again and survive. Keeping to the deep shadows that night granted was the only way to remain undetected.

It was slow going slipping from one dark corner to the next, always thoroughly looking at all possible angles before daring to move again. They did not seem to be around. Could they finally have given up on him? It did not seem likely, they'd invested a whole lot into attacking him so far. It would be much too nice if they did. One might at least hope. Trusting to hope in this situation would be naive and invite further disaster to come knocking. No more mistakes.

"No, they are out there somewhere. Waiting for me to make a mistake. They are both too deep into this to simply give up. I will not make it so easy for them. You want me? Come and get me, if you can." He spoke bravely.

One thing his master taught was that fear should never overtake you. It was to be your ally, not your enemy. Something which should keep you from making mistakes, not from making decisions and taking action. Truly believing in his masters teachings gave great confidence. This time the darkness was his friend, allowing him to move about unimpeded. On the slightest chance he was being followed he took a winding route towards home. It might be slower, but it was well worth eluding the two hunting him. Badly in need of food and water was making this even more difficult and wearing. Going slow was not just a choice, but a necessity.

Moving quickly would likely reopen his wounds, some of which were close to being truly grievous. Two hours later the night granted his reprieve for now. Slipping between the two toppled buildings surrounding his home let him sigh in relief. They had not found him this time. Entering the humble abode deep within the old ruins brought memories to mind. Time spent training with his master in this courtyard, the things he taught, the thoughts he conveyed. Bringing tears to his eyes he entered the rundown abode. Water was the first priority. He wasn't sure exactly how long he was a prisoner, but by now at least a couple of days passed since he last drank anything. The rack of ancient water bottles was fairly filled with them.

Oftentimes it was not as his master would give them out to defuse tense situations when rarely meeting others, saying it was the right thing to do even if it left them without. He drank plenty. Time to rest. Food was a much different matter. One does not need nearly as much food as water, but it is still a necessity of life. There is very little to go around in the wastes. It drives living things to the madness of starvation and desperate action. A burning empty stomach leaves little room to think. Fortunately his master was as adept at scavenging as he was at fighting. Things most others would simply discard found real use in his capable hooves. With nothing whatsoever wasted, they were not left wanting.

It was not a good feeling eating what was contained in those horrible packages from long ago, but you did not starve. When you did find one you knew it could keep you going for a week, if not more. They were very filling, cleverly packed with all sorts of nutrients, minerals, and vitamins which somehow kept. The taste was always awful. He knew nothing of this either, only that they were edible and for whatever reason would keep one going for a long time. Ponies from before the war knew so much. There were plenty of these varied packages here, even more so than the water. They were never appetizing. So weary he could hardly remain standing he strode into a very familiar room.

He nibbled at a partially emptied packet forlornly and did what could be done for his wounds before climbing into a comfortable cot his master procured from somewhere during one of their jaunts into the surrounding ruins. At last he could rest properly a while. He'd spent much of his youth here, listening to his masters teachings. Finally able to take some time to think he found himself crying. He was truly alone now. Rubbing the area of his heart the extremes of exhaustion quickly left him asleep. When he awoke many hours later his heart still ached dully.

He would have to be extra cautious for some time not to overexert himself, though he was in unusually good condition there were still limits to what his body could endure. With no choice he'd been pushed much too far and would be paying the price of this overexertion for a while. No one should be able to find him here at least. The entrance was nearly invisible. He did not imagine there was a more well-hidden spot in the whole of the Manehattan ruins. Far off from this location there was a small settlement, but they had little to do with them. Other ponies were generally untrustworthy or simply very badly off.

Groups of them usually meant they were either family, had known each other for a long time and merely stayed together through familiarity, or raiders. Raiders and slavers did not usually venture into the city and were relatively unknown here, there were easier places to capture the unwary. Dealing with Boss and his minions would have to wait. Boss seemed nearly psychotic from what little he'd seen of him. Why would so many ponies follow his orders? He was only one pony, could he really be so threatening and powerful? Whatever the case, fighting against him without help would be impossible. There were just too many of them to take on alone.

If the two he encountered earlier were any indication they were also willing to go to unimaginable extremes for some reason. Employing extremely powerful weapons without care like the two from earlier seemed like terrific overkill. There was also the matter of why they wanted him dead badly enough to use such things. Why did they bother attacking him or his master at all? It defied reason. An excess of caution would be needed. He never did have any companions, both chose to live solitary lives away from other ponies. Sometimes it was lonely, but his master meant the world to him and his company was enough. It was just easier that way. They were free to do as they pleased and owed nothing to anyone.

Perhaps this choice was a mistake, as much as he liked this self-imposed solitude it now meant there was no one for him to turn to for help. He knew there were griffons and even the occasional pony that could be hired to fight, but that would be very costly. All he truly cared about at this moment was finding a way to strike at Boss for what he'd done to them. Something struck him then, he'd seen some of the thugs several weeks before from a distance. They seemed to be looking intensely for something at the time. After a few hours they left, not having found whatever they were after. At the time it did not seem important. Just an oddity.

If only he'd recalled that earlier he could have questioned the injured thug about it, he'd been too exhausted and disturbed at his masters death. It was too late now, they would surely have long since reported back to Boss and having seen what he was capable of it would be surprising if they weren't severely punished for failing. He thought about trying to pick one of them off once more to gather information, but they would likely be on guard now that they knew something about how well he could fight and elude them. There were also those two possibly still out looking for him, they were a dangerous duo that were clearly very used to working together. After all, they nearly managed to kill him by themselves.

More than that there was absolutely no doubt the one who fell should have died, how did he survive such a tumble?

"The pain..no, it's nothing. This is nothing." He rubbed his chest gently, it was barely possible to move without hurting. There was not much to be done for now, he could only manage to move enough to get a drink and slip back into his cot. It rocked gently side to side as he stared at the ancient cracked ceiling. A broken window to his left let in what little light there was. All that took far more out of him than he thought. At this rate it would take days to recover. There was nothing for it. His master taught him all that he knew about speeding healing along, but he was not here to help anymore.

There was one healing potion they'd discovered and kept in case of an emergency, it was so tempting to take it now. No, it was not the time. It was something he should only take if there was truly dire need. He'd been injured much worse once before and managed without it. He would be okay this time as well. He thought back to all the time spent under his masters watchful eye in training. When he first started learning how to fight, how to scavenge, how to survive. It was a rough time. It was always a rough time. It didn't matter, because his master was always there to guide and encourage. Now he was gone forever for no apparent reason. Now that there was time to think, tears welled in his eyes.

Many ponies over the years felt the empty despair and pain of living in the remains of the world. Now it was his turn to feel that burning pain inside, something he'd never truly felt before. He didn't remember his parents or anything else from before the life he was now accustomed to. The only thing he remembered from the time was being so very alone and scared, and then his master was there. He'd saved his life then, and for all his skill he could do nothing to save him in return when it mattered most. It hurt so much. Far more than anything else he'd ever felt. Still crying while falling into a fitful sleep once more left him quivering in the cot.

His dreams were a random haze of bad feelings and fear, almost happy memories painfully tinged now. His master looked on as he trained.

"I can't do it!" He moaned as he failed once again to perform the most intense maneuver he was yet taught. Soaked in sweat and huffing he spun into a whirling kick only to miss the wooden target post and fall flat on his side painfully yet again, he groaned. It hurt. And again. It hurt worse every time. Why couldn't he do this? Over and over he tried only to fail time and time again. Pained and frustrated he continued to try over and over, he did not want to fail his master.

Finally, tears flowed as he looked over. He felt so disappointed in himself, he'd been so sure he could do this by now. He'd been so confident he could finally manage it. Today was supposed to be the day.

"I'm sorry..I...I can't. Why can't I do it? I've watched you do this move a hundred times..I..." He huffed and felt terribly embarrassed. He kicked the ground in frustration. His master ruffled his mane and smiled broadly at him. What? He spoke in a gentle soothing tone.

"Of course you can't." His tears stung, why would his master say something so hurtful? He spoke again.

"You are young and strong. You learn everything I teach so quickly. The reason you cannot do this is because you are trying to do as well as me, instead of as well as you." What was that supposed to mean? He left him standing there, puzzling over what was said for more than an hour before suddenly calling his master back outside. There he stood in the old somewhat slanted doorway looking out at his student with a gleam of expectation in his eyes. As he watched, his student launched himself at incredible speed towards the wooden post and into a spinning kick which made it shatter into halves as it connected, going straight through to land in a cartwheel and slid to a stop on all fours.

He was always rather fast, but it was at this moment he realized just how much he really loved moving that way.

"One more thing." His master was smiling widely and pointing at his flank. What? He looked back to see he'd earned his mark. Two crossed lightning bolts now adorned both flanks. They were perfect for him. A symbol of his passion, of his soul. Lightning was a rare thing, like himself. It was one of best moments of his life. In a world where joyful moments were rare, it stood out. A moment he'd got to share. After heading inside he found himself being congratulated on having learned nearly everything about close quarters fighting there was to know. There was only one more thing to learn, but that was for later.

For some reason after this his master chose to have a much different and very much unexpected sort of conversation with him. Of all things he chose to tell him a few things about mares, and even a few about stallions if he should ever find himself having leanings towards a relationship with either, or with both perhaps. Why did he choose this time to have such a talk? Such things were mentioned quite briefly before a few times while he was growing up, but never with real gravity or the sincerity which comes with a serious conversation. Perhaps he just couldn't think of a better time to bring it up? Maybe he simply thought it best to get it out of the way now.

Whatever the case, it was a heartfelt and warm conversation about love and romance, and the different things it could mean. It was an awkward feeling conversing with him about these things. The things being explained. The difference between the sort of love he felt for his master and he for him, and what it meant for a relationship with another if he should ever choose to pursue something of that nature. Having been told one could be smitten with such a thing at any time was a little concerning. There was also the fact that it could be a false thing as well, leading to a different sort of pain. He'd never thought about it much before that moment, but he was glad they'd talked like this.

Since that time he'd never encountered anypony that he felt like trying to strike up such a thing with. The dream took on a wavy appearance as something formless seeming to take strides out of the very shadows reached around his master and pulled him into them, away from him, gone forever. This thief was taking him away. Bring him back. Come back.

"No, come back. You can't have him!" He yelled and jumped at the thing as they both disappeared into the dark. He pounded on the wall futilely until his hooves hurt. They were gone. Helpless to do anything about it the formerly happy feeling dream now somehow made him turn towards some faceless horror in the dark like he was being pulled towards it by some invisible grip, hauling him into the shadows.

His eyes popped open as he found himself breathing quite hard and covered in sweat. What was with that dream? Everything still hurt dully and would for quite some time yet. Every so often he needed to stretch his limbs and move about a little bit to prevent his muscles from seizing and cramping, it was painful. At least he was still alive. If he'd been pushed even the slightest bit further his body would have surely given out. His thoughts bounced between sadness , anger, and loss. Who was the one they called Boss, what did he want and why was he so terribly cruel? His imaginings flitting between these things made it very difficult to rest properly. Hurting as he was the time felt to be passing very slowly. So slowly.

Waiting to heal properly felt like an eternity. It was necessary. It was so slow.

"This is unbearable. I need to go after Boss, make him talk and.." Really, then what? He'd already killed the ones that murdered his master when they were ordered to. Was he really ready to go kill another one? He felt so badly already. Maybe it would be a mistake to go after him as well. What if they were really just following orders because they had no choice like that other one said?

"No, the ponies I took out clearly enjoyed killing." He muttered and twitched in the cot, sending it rocking softly.

The cot itself was a gift his master generously gave him when it was discovered. Whoever made it must have been incredibly skilled as it still nearly felt like something new. That it did not crumble to dust like so many other things spoke to their capability. The old ponies really did know things.

"Whoever you were, you did fine work. Thank you." He once again cautiously stepped off to get a drink. Normally he would not need so much water, but being injured this badly was taking a lot out of him and tough to get through. Days passed in this fashion and felt like they were going so horribly slowly until he was finally able to move about without feeling like he was endangering himself. It still hurt a bit.

"I have to be patient. I will have to wait to go after Boss, just a little longer." He looked at the old crumbling building he called home. It did not feel like home any longer. His master was gone forever. Now, this was just another ruin amongst many. It felt so empty now. Lifeless.

"A few more days, then I'm coming after you. Do you feel my anger?" Grumbling, he decided to pack up most of the food and water. He also packed what caps and bits they'd collected over the years. This was not truly home any longer. It would likely take some time to find a way to reach this dangerous pony.

Boss clearly held great sway over some powerful ponies. Why did they follow him? He did not seem the sort one would readily associate with. There was no hurry as he packed what he could into a pair of saddle packs they scrounged up together what felt like ages ago. They were quite worn, but sturdy enough. It would only be a little heavy for him. The warmth his master brought to this simple ruin was gone. It was just another hollow and empty place now. He really could not stay here much longer, it just added to his pain. As the time passed he could not help but think of all the things they'd done together. Scavenging for supplies was just how things were.

They shared everything, and he was always being encouraged. He knew many other ponies were not so lucky as he'd been. Many were on their own or forced to rely upon shaky alliances with those just as likely to honor such alliances as to turn upon one another. Actual friendships were a rare thing in the wastes. This was abundantly clear. Even the few trade caravans they ever dealt with never truly felt friendly, just more tolerable. As he thought about these things he realized that none of the traders had passed by since Boss' minions started looking for whatever it was they were seeking. If only he'd remembered seeing them before and to question that thug about it, but he was in such pain then and so angry.

It would not be possible to do what he was planning alone. He'd heard of mercenaries operating far off outside the city that could be hired, but they would be very expensive. Hiring them should be a last resort. He did know a few ponies here and there, but they were not to be trusted fully either. It was a sad state of affairs, but this was the tattered world they'd been left. Like most, he'd heard of the great war that culminated in the destruction of nearly everything. How did they ever let it come to that? Gazing out into the hidden courtyard he could only imagine what it must have been like when it was new. He would likely not be returning here once he left. Perhaps. It hurt. Everything hurt. Why did life have to be this way?

What would it have been like if the war never happened? Would all this still be standing, safe, happy and bright? A place where one would be proud to live, surrounded by familiar friendly faces? He could not really imagine what that would be like. That was something he would never experience. The idea was nice, but it was impossible. All that was left were damaged slowly falling ruins succumbing more and more to age. That anything was left standing at all was a marvel in itself. The structures in the city were built to last. He didn't know this sturdy construction was a byproduct of the war itself, and almost the sole reason anything was left standing at all. How did ponies live back then?

All he knew was scavenging, and he was very good at it. What did they do? There was so much stuff laying around he didn't know the use of, what it was for or anything else about. Some things were obvious, the intended purpose of a mattress or a cupboard was clear, but there were so many other things. Objects related to fun and games were very uncommon and the purpose was easily lost or twisted. He had no idea of the purpose of a bowling ball happened across once, or what an iron was used for or a golf club, he didn't even know the names of those things. Some of it left him quite baffled.

An industrial park in one section of the area always held his interest, all those old ruined machines sitting there in silence. What were they for? The sheer size of some of the remaining rusted machines was impressive. There were not many that could tell him what they did or how they worked. Clearly the ponies of the past knew a great deal, yet they still fell. They were so powerful and knew so much, how could they have let the world become like this? For the most part life now was just bland, weary and joyless. Was it ever better than this? He'd been happy enough just to have somepony nice to live with, and a place to call home at all.

He did wonder sometimes what his parents were like or what happened to them that left him alone. He imagined that perhaps not being able to remember them at all was a good thing. He could not truly miss what he could not remember in any way. The few days before he left the only home he'd ever known passed by quietly and sluggishly. It would be too dangerous to keep returning here once he left, it was just a little too close to where he'd been held captive. He would have to find someplace else far away from here, but where could he call home now? It all felt so surreal. He did not know this word, only the feeling. It was just a bad dream, he would wake up soon right? It did not happen. It was true.

Finally, it was time to go. He slipped the heavy packs over his back and walked out into the night. It would be best to move around in the dark on the off chance the ponies with the excessive firepower could still be somewhere out there. It was quiet and dim as it always was at night. Having to leave these surroundings he was so accustomed to hurt in its own way. Almost all of the busted up streets in this area, back alleys and walkways he knew at least a little. Places to avoid, places where things could still be found. This was more jarring than expected. This region was all he knew, now he would have to leave it. His master told him of radiation and how dangerous it could be.

Neither knew what it really was, but the lethality of it and the threat it could pose was obvious enough. They even at some point found an old magically charged radiation detection badge which began to change color if you were getting too close to a source. It still worked. With it they'd determined all the most dangerous spots in the immediate and surrounding area. He'd made sure to bring that, as he was heading towards places he did not know well or at all it would certainly prove useful. The last thing packed was the one healing potion they possessed. It still looked potent. Trudging quietly through the darkness amongst the empty ruins was a lonely endeavor.

Once sufficiently far enough away to feel at ease he picked up the pace somewhat. Boss and his underlings did not seem intent on leaving this area anytime soon. He hoped whatever they were looking for would keep them busy long enough for him to figure out his next move.

"Whatever it is must be fairly important to him to have so many looking for it, but what could possibly be so valuable around here? There's nothing special." He wondered. There was so little. The rad detector badge was worn by a strap around a foreleg and very prominent against his blue coat. A pre-war pony might have mistaken him for a medic.

It was going to be a very long walk to the nearest point where any pony he barely knew was, would it be of any use to go to them? Maybe they could at least give him some information. He would be passing by there anyway if he decided to head towards the merc camp so he might as well ask. He'd been careful not to make much sound as he weaved his way out of the furthest north section. He passed by an ancient faded metal sign attached to the remnants of a wall along one street saying 'Try Whickers candy bars, the most nuts ever!' He almost found himself laughing at the strange sign. What did that even mean? His master also taught him to read, but never revealed who taught him how to do so.

About that sort of thing he always seemed rather secretive. Did he even have parents? It didn't really matter. It wasn't worth prying. Forlornly walking for the next numb hours before taking a break he just sort of got into the rhythm of his own hooves clacking on the ground and what pavement there was. Almost without realizing it he'd slowly traveled onwards for almost the entire day. As it began to grow darker once more he found himself reveling in all the good memories he'd shared with his master. His life with him was far from easy, but it was good. He would have to find an out of the way spot to rest for the night. This was nearly beyond as far as he'd ever dared travel before.

Another day would take him outside of anywhere he knew. This city was truly immense in its day. The ruins were certainly strung out over very long areas. Even back then motorized ground vehicles were not all that common. Usually relying on pegasi or trains to move goods or other ponies over very long distances. Highly automated machines both for ground and air use were only just beginning to gain some public trust a short time before the war ended. He didn't know any of this, only the sheer scale of the rest of the city now before him. To him the city was gigantic. He found a little nook to rest in out of sight. He was still a little sore, but just couldn't have stayed where he was any longer.

Everywhere he looked there only served to remind of what was now gone. Maybe this long jaunt would ease his mind, there was a necessity of thinking clearly for this. At the very least he desired to confront Boss and demand an answer to why he did it. He was unable to stop feeling both sad and angry alternately.

"I am not a violent pony. I'm not. I can't believe I even did what I did, but was it really a mistake? They were terrible, and enjoyed it. Surely it cannot have been wrong to stop them from doing that to anypony else ever again?" He did not feel very good since that moment. Why did it feel like this? He knew killing was not something to relish.

He'd taken others lives, even if they were murderers. That is what was bothering him. Five ponies were dead because of his own blind anger in retaliation. They may have been truly evil, maybe they even deserved it. Did he have the right to finish them off as he had? He'd tried not not to think about it for all this time, but now it weighed heavily on his heart. He was a little shaky as he sat, taking little nibbles from a small packet and small sips from one of the water bottles.

"I don't think I regret it. They killed him. They were ordered to do it and didn't even question it, they just did it. They deserved to die, didn't they?" This conflicted himself so much he was left crying profusely.

This was not something he ever imagined himself doing before, taking other ponies lives. He wound up choking on his food. After this he spent a good deal of time trying to get himself together. It wasn't right and it was not fair. Few things in the world now were, but they did something so terribly wrong and he'd made them suffer for it. This was just balance wasn't it? What was truly right here? He was so drained and tired of it all he just lay there limply until sleep finally took him. Thankfully there were no dreams of anything that night. At the first sight of the sky beginning that ever so slight transition into what was still called daytime he awoke. He wore a blank expression as he awoke.

Although he'd cried in pain before he'd never really experienced such terrible emptiness and sadness over loss. It just kept hurting inside and it wouldn't go away. Why, why did they have to take his kind of alright life away from him? It wasn't much, but it was enough. Getting up to stretch and take a drink he allowed himself a moment before heading on. He did not know the rest of the region very well and it stretched on for a very long way. Although he was one to explore it was always with caution, and never too far without his master. This spot was barely known, soon he would be venturing beyond anywhere he'd ever been. It was a bit exciting in some way. It also incited nervousness.

Past this point would require paying careful attention to the badge upon his leg. Familiar surroundings were now behind. At the slightest hint of it changing color he would have to back off and change directions. Dropping dead from something invisible was not a way he desired to go. Although he'd never seen it the description of dying that way was beyond horrifying to him. While thinking of these things he'd come to the realization that he really was not afraid of dying, only of it happening in some manner he couldn't see coming. At the very least he wanted to face that directly whenever it did someday happen to him.

It was a slight solace to him that his master at least saw what was coming as he felt the same way. Still, the sheer unfairness of it was burned into his mind. This was a kind of pain he could never have been prepared for. The sadness washed over him in waves at random times and it bothered him so much that he could not control this. For a while he would feel alright and then it would hit him again like running into a solid wall. Tears came and went. Would they ever stop? It did not feel like they would no matter what. Were tears endless?

"I just want him back, but that can never be." Gulping down water he decided it was time to get going.

This would be a very long trip. Thinking it should be safe enough to travel freely now he still took the time to survey his surroundings before continuing. Some ways away was what once was a river. There was hardly any water in it, it did not flow any longer and was probably unsafe to drink from. Fortunately he brought plenty. For some reason he still felt somewhat unsafe. It was a senseless feeling really, there couldn't possibly be any danger here at the moment. Something still felt wrong. Though the city was mostly abandoned, there were generally ponies somewhere to run across, especially in this direction. He'd found none in his slow trek so far. This was not really that odd and didn't warrant this feeling.

Reluctantly he left the packs hidden in the nook nestled between some small ruins for the moment and headed nearer the river. How could it be dangerous here? His senses were telling him it was. His ears pricked and swiveled. There was nothing. A terrible sense of foreboding settled over him. Sneaking a peak over a small rise revealed nothing other than an ancient bent street sign indicating he was near some road which used to be called 'Fetlock Avenue'. The river to the side was just barely still full enough to cover a pony he thought. It was stagnant, dirty. He gazed into the dark water, and something underneath gazed back with enormous alien eyes.

"What!?" He yelped, rolling to the side as a figure he could not really see underneath leapt out of the water at him. It was huge. He knew what it was, but couldn't believe it. A frog, but it was of such size it defied description. He jumped behind a small rock along the bank which barely offered any cover just as the creatures large tongue shot out, shattering it on impact and reducing it to powder. He absolutely could not get struck by that or be killed instantly. No wonder there were no ponies at all in this immediate area, this thing had likely ambushed any that were. At this distance running was out of the question, it would only serve to get him hit.

The only choice here was to get in close and hammer on it with everything he had. He sprinted past the thing and knocked it on side of the head in passing. If he made even the slightest mistake right now its sheer weight would be enough to finish him. He danced around behind it as it turned, smashing his forehooves into the back of the neck or what he thought would be a close approximation. This did nearly nothing. Bad. Very bad. It was squishy and far softer than expected, making it difficult to inflict real damage. The enormous frog was practically absorbing all the kicks and jabs at it. This was not good, though it was beginning to bleed in places. At least it kind of looked like blood.

Knowing nothing of this sort of thing he could only keep bouncing about trying to stay behind it and hitting it over and over. This was taking forever, but he did not want to resort to anything more powerful. Attacking it from in front would be too risky. He prevented it from jumping away once or twice by following its movements as fast as he could and dashing to where it landed, continuing to pummel it. Anything more might be too much so soon after recovering from last time. He could probably make short work of it, but those sort of moves always carried some amount of risk. Only if he needed to. He managed to smash one of the creatures hind legs right at the base, rendering it useless. Then the other.

Finally, after bashing it about the head for several more minutes it finally fell forward and lay there twitching. Panting heavily he moved a short distance away and sat back against an underpass, staring at the gigantic thing. Where did it come from? There was never anything like this around here he knew of, and nopony they'd ever spoken to mentioned such a thing. He only knew it was a frog because knowledge of such things existence was not entirely forgotten. This was vastly larger than his master ever spoke of. What was going on around here? Could this thing have anything to do with Boss? That didn't seem likely, but he could rule nothing out for the moment.

"Wait, what's that sound?" There was a slow beeping emanating from the body of the creature which sounded somehow familiar.

"No!" Flinging himself into the underpass just in time as the body was enveloped in a strange greenish glow and exploded sending chunks of glowing flesh everywhere. One large piece landed just beside him and melted away. What happened?

"Uck. Was that the same weapon from before? It might have been something similar. I have to keep my guard up." All the pieces were incinerating. This was crazy.

This was not the end of his problems though as he heard a strange wheezing sound approaching from somewhere else.

"Oh, what now?" At first he thought perhaps one of the few locals actually did escape the strangely large creature and was coming to investigate the commotion. This thought quickly evaporated as a mumbling purple-coated mare approached his position. She hadn't spotted him yet in the dim light. He watched in concern from behind the edge of the underpass remains that just barely concealed him.

Where her cutie mark should be were deep gouged scratch wounds that looked like they should have healed long ago. What was more concerning was that a quarter of her skull and one eye seemed to have been replaced with a steel plate which held several wires and tubes hanging off which went running into the base of her neck, the eye glowed a strange orange color. Even more disturbing than this was what she was saying as she examined the remains of the frog. What was she saying?

"Signal lost. Subject deceased. Terminate area residents..help me. Seek and destroy all living entities in vicinity..no stop it. Movement order confirmed." Her movements were weirdly erratic like her balance was impaired somehow.

She walked about the area continuing to speak and act strangely. The wheezing was disconcerting him so much. She would see him any second now. Not another fight.

"Search concluded. Eliminate target..make it stop." She lurched towards him. What should he do now? He stepped into the open, preparing to fight this odd apparition of a pony. She halted and quivered heavily. What? Her eyes twitched about oddly and disturbingly. For a moment it seemed as if she might not attack him, but just as this thought crossed his mind she launched herself at him surprisingly fast.

"Run away. Run away!" Her voice was warbling and distorted sounding. Run away? What in the world? She stumbled towards him and he deflected a blow from her forehooves as she reared and stamped down hard, causing him to stumble back some. As an earth pony he was very strong, but she was so fast and ridiculously strong even compared to that, at least twice as strong as he was judging by that attack. If he was not in as good condition as he was that single move could easily have caused serious injury or worse. This was terribly dangerous.

"Lady, what is going on here!?" He questioned as he dodged her leaping straight at him.

Something was even more odd about this. Her moves were fluid and unusually skilled, but just kept barely missing their mark almost like she was trying not to hit him. She was also..crying? She threw herself at him repeatedly. The fight was dragging on forever and going nowhere. Why wouldn't she stop? This time as he dodged she rammed into a jagged hard ledge of the underpass, cutting a large groove diagonally across her chest. Despite this she continued to fight as if the deep gash inflicted no pain at all. She struck at him violently again and again.

"I don't know who you are, but I do not want to fight you like this. Stop. You're hurt! Please, stop?" He yelled as they crossed glancing blows over and again. This ceaseless exchange of blows was not getting them anywhere whatsoever. He did detect a slight change in her speed, was she slowing down almost imperceptibly? She continued to hammer at him in almost a rhythm. He finally found a real opening as she really was beginning to slow. There was no desire to hurt whoever this was, but she was clearly trying to kill him, or was she? He needed to take her down now if he was going to at all.

He ran at the wall of the underpass to leap and bounce off it onto her back as she approached where he leveled a wicked kick directly into the back of her head, smashing her face into the wall heavily with a clang. She collapsed onto her side with a heavy dull thud. Now he'd fought two opponents and was very near exhausted once more, leaving him gasping for breath. The fight with her went on far longer than he thought. He'd never faced an opponent with as much endurance as himself save for his master. She twitched and turned her head towards him. She should be out cold. It cannot be. She was still mumbling odd things. Her movements were jerky. Just seeing this made him feel weird.

Why was she getting up again? How could be still be conscious?

"Target must be terminated.. kill me. Destroy target..KILL ME." What? Did he hear that right? He didn't want to kill anypony at all, except perhaps Boss. He'd already had his fair share of doing that. She was already rising to her hooves unsteadily. How could she still be awake and moving? That kick shoved her head into the wall so hard it should be impossible for her to be awake, let alone getting up for more. She was injured very badly, he could tell that hard landing also cracked several ribs making her wheeze even worse. Didn't it hurt? He truly did not want to do this.

Why was this happening? Blood was trickling out of her muzzle and nostrils. It was certain he'd nearly killed her.

"Re-engaging target.. kill me. Terminate target..PLEASE?" She was begging him to kill her? What the hay was this insanity? She was preparing to attack him once more. Again they batted at each other. Wounded so seriously she shouldn't even be standing she was still giving him quite a fight. How was this possible? Blow after relentless blow was exchanged once more. No choice. Never any choice.

"Miss, please don't make me do this!?" Tears were trying to well up once more.

She clocked him across the face with a hoof. That hurt horribly badly, but it gave him the opportunity to retaliate with a heavy jab directly into her throat which finally sent her to the ground, rolling to land hard upside down. He heard a crunch as her neck snapped on landing at such an odd angle, she twitched all over disconcertingly. The orange light was fading from that eye. He wasn't given a choice in the matter. Again.

"Thank you." She wheezed as her head drooped and sparks shot off the metal plate. She lay still. She was smiling? For a moment he could not even think. It was too horrifying. He just stared.

What he just went through was awful in some indescribable way. It felt nothing like when he'd taken out the ponies who helped murder his master. He stepped up against the crumbling wall of the underpass and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the wall where he proceeded to bang his own head against it several times. Nearly in shock and leaning against the wall shaking, he truly could not process what just occurred. It wasn't right. It just wasn't. For several minutes he just stood there shivering, staring at everything and nothing. If anything else attacked him at this moment he would have done nothing and died for certain. This did not happen. The eerie silence that took the area was all there was.

It took ten minutes for all that just happened to truly register within his mind. There was so much death around here. He never wanted to kill, never. Especially not anypony he didn't have any real reason to. His heart was beginning to race. This place was dangerous, he should be leaving. Unsteadily he turned his head towards where she'd finally landed. It finally sunk in. It struck with tremendous force. It couldn't be real. It just couldn't.

"It's not real. It can't be real. You're not real. This isn't real, it can't be!' Tears slowly started flooding out of his eyes as he shook. Was he going insane? Nothing made any sense.

Finding himself laying on his side on the ground he stared at the poor mare for several minutes before sobbing uncontrollably. Something burst. He just couldn't help it. It felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. He was shuddering so much it was almost hurting. He let out a loud guttural scream. Time felt like it was standing still. Everything was just getting worse and worse. Why, why did he have to do this to her...why? It hurt in a way he could not stand. It was unbearable.

"Why!? Why..why..?" He yelled at the uncaring sky and fell to constant crying. This felt so wrong, all of this.

She was dead, whoever she was. He'd been forced to kill her. Who was she, what happened to her? Why did this have to happen? Did he just murder somepony? He felt so terribly conflicted. She asked him to kill her even while she seemed to be trying to kill him, even thanked him for it in the end. It was insane. Everything was insane, ever since Boss and his lackeys showed up. Go away. Go away. GO AWAY.

"Its all gotta be a bad dream, Its just gotta. I'm gonna wake up..I'm gonna wake up!...wake up!" His tears gushed down his face as he panted and choked up so much his heart twinged painfully. Except it was not a dream.

Everything that just happened was there telling him as much. Swallowing hard he finally caught his breath and began to calm down. His racing heart slowed to a more normal pace as he finally got hold of himself. He looked over his opponent. She'd put up an awesome fight, deserving of respect. He wiped his face and panted.

"Lady, I am sorry for whatever horrible thing happened to you. I am so sorry I had to end your life. I know you asked me to do it, but it is not fair I was forced to take it from you, I know. Please, forgive me." He couldn't just leave her like this. Did she have any friends, family?

Such things might be rare in the wastes but even as dispersed as they were ponies usually knew someone else. He could not do much, but dragged her body a little closer to the shoreline where he scrounged up enough rocks to give her a shallow grave at least. He did not get the feeling she deserved to have met her end this way. When this quest of his was over he would try to find out who she was. He owed her that.

"I won't forget you, miss. I'll try to find somepony that knew you later, I promise." Solemnly he left the shallow grave with a heavy heart. After picking up his packs he prepared to resume his long trek.

He wanted to rest after all that, but it might still not be safe here. After that he'd decided he would actually head out of the city region and seek the assistance of the griffon mercenaries far to the north. He knew they were there thanks to the trade caravans they'd occasionally dealt with, often they were the only source of information or news. It would likely cost most or all of the caps he could offer, but it was clear he was dealing with something so strange here that it was necessary. There was still such a long way to go even to leave the city limits or even just this area. After these encounters nowhere felt safe. Over and over he caught himself feeling unsure of his own actions. Somehow he'd become involved in a real mess.

Sighing deeply he began walking once more. He did not really know the safest way to go. He knew the entire city spanned a very large area. The northern section he'd lived in all his life certainly held just enough scavengable goods to last a lifetime if one was diligent and knew what to look for. Ever leaving what he knew never crossed his mind before. It would never feel like home again. As decayed and destroyed as it was, it was truly all he knew. It was familiar. It would not be very long now before passing beyond the farthest point he ever dared wander before. Hopefully the few other ponies that still lived around here did not suffer a similar fate to the rest that lived close by.

Even if they were not really friendly, they were still ponies and did not deserve such a fate. He barely knew one of them. He'd seemed tolerable at the time. Perhaps he could at least get some directions from him. One thing he did not want to do was run right into the most dangerous places in the ruins. The unexpected combat took a bit of a toll. He did not expect to go at it again so soon. It left his heart gently aching as he walked, his hooves clicking strangely dully as they contacted the ancient cracked pavement. Probably just imagination. He meandered across the old road and to the west. There was a long way to go this way first, this much he knew.

Occasionally he found himself wondering how ponies built things like some of the formerly majestic buildings which still somehow stood. An hour passed in this manner before spotting something in the distance that looked somehow off to him, causing him to halt. What could this be? He found a spot to hide away his packs once more and carefully approached the object shimmering in the distance. Keeping himself hidden from sight was something he knew well enough. The remains of some sort of battle were plain to see here. Laying on their side was a steel ranger, an unusual crest was emblazoned across the armors front. Much like the ancient machinery, he found the suit fascinating.

How did it work, what did it do? The suit itself was completely shattered. Smoke still spread into the air from a gaping hole which went right through the front on the left side of the chest and out the right side on the other. What could possibly have done something like this? What could have had this much force behind it and done such a thing? Even the strange glowing green shots fired at him over a week ago could not have punched through something so solid this easily. Could the occupant still be alive? He left the safety of cover for a brief moment to find out. The bulky suit proved to be incredibly brittle. His hoof barely touched the suit which sent it and anything within crumbling to dust.

How? This did not make sense to him. It looked so heavy and dense, yet it utterly destroyed itself when touched. Almost no trace was left as it fell to dust. That can't be good. More weird things that needed answers. They were piling up rather quickly.

"Oh, no." Furtively glancing around he could not detect any threat. This fight seemed to have ended some time ago. Whatever pony wore the armor did not stand a chance against whatever went hurtling at him. Incredible force was used against this hapless wanderer.

"Why was a steel ranger here anyway? They never bothered coming around here before." He vaguely knew what they were and to avoid them, never actually having seen one. Not here. He'd been told there was nothing interesting to them anywhere near. This was very puzzling. Everything was. It was an unpleasant puzzle.

"This makes no sense. Nothing about any of this does. What is happening around here?" He wished they'd never encountered Boss' minions. If only they never ran across them. In all the world why did they have to come here? His mind could not fathom the significance of any of this.

All it seemed to him was that pointless random violence was being committed. In the wastes this was not exactly unheard of, but why so much and to this degree? You can make nothing but enemies if you kill everypony you come across. Too much was wrong.

"There is so much dreadfully wrong here, master. I wish you were alive. I wish you were here." Wiping his eyes he quietly slipped back for his packs yet again. Whatever happened in this place, it was much too late to help anypony. A rare slight breeze blew past him. The stirring of the air in this situation felt ominous.

Caution lead to moving at a slow and steady pace ahead. At last he could see the few pieces which still existed of Freepony street. A slight curve in the road lay beside yet another ancient building. More of a ramshackle assemblage of old useless pieces of metal and whatever could be thrown together in the vague shape of a building. This was his first destination. Hopefully the pony he was looking for would be around. The thing which resembled a door looked to be rather weak. He dared knock upon it delicately a few times. There was no response. This was quite far from where he'd found the fallen ranger. Was he dead as well?

He was beginning to feel spooked and very alone in the world, more than he ever felt before. Though bereft of much goodness the world never entirely felt empty or lonely to him. He did have his master to thank for much of that. This was different.

"Hello, anypony here?" He called out meekly, feeling desperate for a response. There was no one here, just more empty silence. He realized this is what bothered him most. He'd barely heard a single sound since he set out. The world was always quiet, but it was not this quiet. Were there no ponies left alive anywhere around here? This was very worrying.

He banged on the door once more to find it slip open of its own accord. Should he venture inside? He did not want to invite more trouble, but something very bad was going on.

"Hello? If you are in there, please come out?" He waited a moment. Again there was nothing. Fearing the worst he set his packs aside the oddly shaped entranceway and stepped inside. The large single room of the place was a disaster. A shattered plate lay on the floor amidst several spent shell casings. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he realized why.

A dead earth pony whose pale spotted coat and underside was caked with dried blood dripping from the corners of his mouth lay draped on his back against the rear wall. His muzzle was still wrapped around the firing mechanism of a small gun. Something threw him there with such terrible force his spine snapped. He did see it coming, whatever it was. A look of abject terror was fixed upon his face. This must of happened days ago. Fortunately, this was not the pony he was looking for. The horrendous sight before him triggered some terrible feeling of foreboding. At this range the shots could not possibly have missed even if the poor fellow was in a total panic when they were fired.

There was no blood aside from his own. Whatever got him must have been barring his way to the door. This was genuinely creepy. Never having seen such a sight he was once again shocked. Something just picked up a pony and threw them this hard? It would likely be best not to linger here. Such sheer wrongness hurt his head. Hastily he backed out the door. Looking around the shack revealed another shock. A decapitated mare lay strewn in several places and numerous pieces behind it. This sight made him feel terribly sick. Her head was not cleanly removed but strangely hacked off at an angle like it was removed by blunt force alone. Blood had sprayed all over the rear wall.

The head itself was entirely missing. This place was full of death. With his packs safely on once more he wandered westward. It would be a while before he would reach another road. When he finally did, it would be time to head south towards the other remnants of Manehattan. Truly realizing this was going to be a very long trip was a bit of a sting. Why was everypony around here being slaughtered in one way or another? It made as little sense as anything else lately. It was all so frightening and illogical in any way he could see. This proved some kind of threat to life could be lurking anywhere.

"This is horrifying. Could Boss really be behind all of this? I suppose he might be. He is definitely sick and twisted, but what possible purpose could any of this serve? They had nothing worth taking." He was talking out loud to himself to brace his nerves. The strange quiet still seemed to surround on all sides. Even his own hooves did not quite seem to make the audible volume they should while trotting along. How could all this not be a dream? The horror was just not ending. What happened to the pony he was looking for? That was his haphazard shack, but two other ponies he'd never seen before were brutally murdered there. Was he laying somewhere in the surrounding area as well, hurt, dead?

Feeling extra disturbed he kept walking until well out of sight of the shack. Ponies were being slaughtered left and right apparently, it left him feeling so cold. There were very bad things in the world, but something about this was just plain wrong. Off.

"I can't take it. This whole thing hurts my head. Think about something happy for a while, yeah." All that came to mind were tinged memories of time spent with his master. While they were happy memories they were always interrupted by a flash of what happened to him not so long ago.

"All the ponies in Manehattan cannot be dead, can they?" That would be ludicrous. Not even all of those thugs and whatever else could possibly have killed them all. There were not many of them, but they still equaled a fair amount in total. A few of them were very heavily armed. There were also other things in the city that should make that utterly impossible. He only needed to keep moving until breaking away from all of this, but how far did that mean? Could it mean wandering for days or longer before finding another living thing? This entire trip so far was turning out to be much more dangerous than imagined. A few hours later he finally found something to indicate where he was.

A barely recognizable sign at a sparse intersection reading only 'Treemount'. His understanding was that it should be a simple run almost straight south from here. It was still a worry though. There was no clue to what was happening, and it could not simply be assumed he would find another pony or even another living thing anytime soon. He'd traveled a fair distance today. It was time to find a safe place to rest. At least he wasn't attacked again since the craziness in the morning. Whatever destroyed the ranger wasn't around either. An ancient marred and toppled street marker further down indicated 'Freemane Street'.

There was a small squat and somehow still solid looking building with a large sign across the front stating 'MHPD Police Precinct' in tall white lettering. It was situated in front of a small hill which ringed and obscured it from view. It seemed like it might once have been important in some way. Whatever it meant was lost on him. Out the front several destroyed carts once painted solid black and equipped with solid bars across the back lay rotting in many pieces. A slight outline of something like a star could just be made out on one of the wrecks. It looked safe enough, but after previous experience he was going to take it very slowly before deciding this was a spot to rest.

Gently pushing the heavy door open he found it was made of some type of metal. Inside a desk and several broken terminals were found. One in a corner room still spilled an eery green glow across the main room. Stepping further in were found several prison cells. One contained an ancient pony skeleton. He didn't like the idea of staying near that, but needed rest badly. The interior of the building was very sparse and a little bit cooler than outside. One section of a back wall to the locked cell where the skeleton lay appeared to have been broken out of from the inside with the door still locked securely. The lock on that cell was also strangely fused along the connecting portion, there was no way to unlock it.

That was something of a concern. What could have gone right through such a solid wall, and why was it in there with them to begin with? The walls looked built to withstand serious punishment. The building itself was definitely abandoned a very long time ago. Why nopony took up residence here likely related to the fact there was really nothing else left standing for a good distance in any direction. With nowhere nearby to scavenge it would not be a good place to stay. Aside from the broken wall it was certainly secure here. Carrying large amounts back here would be too time and strength consuming.

The damage was not obvious from the outside which was probably the reason the skeleton lay undisturbed in the corner, other ponies must have come across this place at some time or another or could he really be the first to come across this? Discarding his packs behind a desk in the opposite corner he decided to return outside and head around the back to see if there might be some way into the broken cell. A heavy steel beam had fallen crossways covering the hole after whatever it was busted loose. After much wriggling and trying to find a way to slide in through the mess he just barely managed to make it within. Now it was possible to get a very close look at the skeleton.

The ponies right foreleg was clearly crushed and several of the ancient bones looked to have been broken off more than succumbed to age, were they chewed on? Close inspection in the dust revealed a small partially opened package of 9mm rounds to the side which the poor fellow must have been fumbling with, was he trying to reload some kind of weapon? There was no gun here. Perhaps it was buried in the rubble or landed outside the cell to be taken away. Scouring the area revealed nothing more. Gently prizing the pack off the ground it was chucked into the main room. It took as much effort to climb back out through the small hole as it did to get in.

Just as it was cleared a chunk of steel debris caved in absolutely sealing the hole completely, and sending dust flying which set off a coughing fit for a moment. Too close.

"Whoa, that was a little too careless of me. I could have been trapped in there. Get yourself together." He mumbled while heading back to the main door. Before returning inside one more quick look around verified there was nothing and no one here. A safe place to rest easy within. One of the cell doors hung off its hinges and finding one of the folding wall-mounted beds to still have a serviceable mattress afforded a place to sleep.

His gaze wandered to the glowing terminal across the room. He did not know what such things were for, but technology always fascinated him just like the silent machines back at the industrial park. It beckoned for a password under the statement 'We serve Lady Justice. To keep the world safe'. Lady Justice? He knew the concepts of justice, but his master never mentioned her. Who was she?

"Well, guess you couldn't do that could you?" He realized this was likely a shameful thing to say. That screen likely stayed the same way since the great war so many years ago.

A war which ended in such widespread devastation it was still recalled with fear and told of in hushed whispers if spoken of at all. No pony could ever have wanted this to happen to the world? No one could have stood up to that, it was too big. His thoughts drifted while laying on this somewhat uncomfortable bed. It was becoming difficult to relax enough for sleep.

"It is perfectly safe in here. The last pony to walk in or out of here must have done so ages ago." Trying to assure himself it was safe to close his eyes it was a harsh struggle to finally fall asleep. Eventually it took him at last.

Thankfully there were no dreams. Too much happened lately so the simple blankness of a dreamless sleep was a welcome darkness. As dawn broke he awoke feeling much better. The wall mattress things were clearly not designed with comfort in mind. This was obviously a place intended to keep prisoners so this made sense. It did leave him feeling rather stiff. Almost to the point of wondering if sleeping on the floor would have been a better choice. Likely not. Real beds were not exactly a common thing in the wastes. Even amongst the city ruins most things decayed to the point of being useless. The environment everywhere was harsh.

A few pieces of unworkable machinery and crushed rubble were generally the sum total of what was left. Where buildings still stood they were often rickety dangerous wrecks, begging to be explored before utterly collapsing. Some unexplainable feeling of sadness rose when gazing at the old ruins. This small prison withstood the tests of time admirably. Loathe to expose himself to more trauma the consideration arose to maybe spend a day just resting here. It was safe and did provide the opportunity for a good rest. After thinking about it for a while the decision was made to stay. It was necessary.

His master always told him to get the rest needed for the road ahead so you could push harder when it truly counted. Did he set out on this journey too soon? It was necessary.

"No. I waited long enough. Do what I need to do when I need to do it." He really could use the downtime. The weird frog monster, the fight with the mysterious mare, and the ponies found murdered left a feeling inside so poor it would be best not to wander further just yet. He was still a bit bruised and achy from the rough battle with her. Spending the day poking about the little building for amusement was alright, but it provided little. Nothing else was really here.

Likely some wandering pony or ponies desperate for supplies took whatever may have been left within a very long time ago. He tapped at the large keys on the terminal, they seemed designed so one could press them with hoof or muzzle easily. These flickering terminals appeared to exist all over the wastes in various styles and places. Most were broken or dead, but something still powered many of them. The ponies of the past had such great knowledge, and left just as many mysteries behind. Thinking about it he realized at some point it would be necessary to try and find out what they did with his masters body. The thought they likely just dumped it along with his head somewhere was painful.

It was not something he desired to see, but his master deserved so much better. It felt like every action taken and indeed everything which happened since encountering Boss was in a dreamlike haze. Sleep helped a little. Whatever was going on extended far beyond just him. This much was clear after the crazy things he'd been through just trying to leave the region. There was still a very long way to go. Ancient rail systems which spread throughout some areas of Manehattan in its prime would once have made such a trip relatively short work, perhaps less than a couple of hours. Walking and carrying full packs through the decrepit ruins now took far longer.

Mere happenstance allowed a few streets and buildings here and there to survive. Just more indications society and civilization was once far more advanced. Once ordered and straight, they now often ended in impassable dead ends or lead absolutely nowhere. Making ones way through the tangled mess of the city even within a confined area like this was a tough journey. The pace was slowed down a great deal by the fighting as well. Bruises and welts from the encounter still ached a little. The choice to remain here for the night was for the best. Finding it difficult to simply lay still the whole time he occasionally prodded at the old terminals keys. None of the seven letter words he could think of resulted in it unlocking.

Not really knowing, but being fascinated by such technology he could only imagine what it was supposed to do. At least imagining was a good distraction from otherwise racing thoughts.

"I wonder what these were for? They look creepy. All green and glowing like this. They're all over the place. Must have been important I guess." He mused. The building was nice inside and oddly cozy. Rarely enjoying such comfort left him dozing off a number of times. The day passed in a welcome slowness. Finally, he went back to sleep proper. There might not be a chance to relax like this again for quite some time.

During the night some distant rumbling roused him fitfully for a moment. Thinking it perhaps a simple imagining brought on by all that was going on around him lead to falling back asleep quickly. Awaking in this manner left dazed and confused dreams of the mare he'd been forced to kill. Her face contorted in pain throughout as they fought. His eyes flew open as he relived seeing her grateful smile at the end, it looked so content. So peaceful. So, happy. He was breathing very rapidly. Such a painful memory to be carried from now on, and forever. Would it always be haunting like this? The rest of his life? A lifetime is a long span to carry such a burden.

"Ohh. Miss, I am so sorry." He truly was sorry for her. Panting from it he climbed out of bed. It was morning, such as morning was now called. The same endless gloomy dark skies he'd always known. Retrieving one of the water bottles from the pack he got ready to leave the safety of the building. It already took much too long to get this far. At most it should have taken a day or two to at least reach the next section of Manehattan. As it was this was the third day out and not even half the distance was covered yet. The lay of the land was also forcing a route more towards the northwest than southwards. Fortunately, it should be a straight shot from here south. He slipped the packs on once more and started out.

Within an hour of leaving all such hopes were dashed thoroughly. It became wildly apparent he would have to find another route. Something tremendous and terrible was going on here. Across the way barring the path was an immense wall of flames erupting straight from the ground itself. It didn't seem to touch it or be fed by any kind of fuel. What was burning? The tremendous waves of heat could be felt from several meters away. It smelled strange. Burning, but not like fire burns and smells. Almost sickly somehow. The fiery wall looked like it went on for so long in both directions it blocked the entirety of what was once the Grand Pony Concourse and several other remaining roads.

The erupting flames spread out for miles upon miles in either direction. There was no way through or around it. Digging under it was not an option either, the heat was too intense to approach. It could not be seen through. Ears swiveling about trying to hear something. Anything. Somehow it did not make any sound as fire does. Not so much as a single slight note to it.

"It..how can this be?" His jaw went slack for a few moments while trying to comprehend and take in this sight. How could this not be some terrible dream? Dumbfounded he sat in silence.

Shutting and opening his eyes several times did not make it go away. Groaning in resignation he turned towards the northwest. He could only hope there was some other far off way around remaining. A long trip indeed. This would double or even triple the length of time it would take to reach the rest of Manehattan. Forlorn and dejected the trek was resumed with a heavy heart and a serious worry there may be no way through anywhere. What could have sanctioned the use of such awesome power? Was something beyond comprehension acting against him? No bad fear. Fear saves you. Use it. Do not let it use you.

"Has death come here just for me? I am just a little pony. I mean no harm to the good. Nothing above should care one whit about me or what I do. I am not worth it. This must be for someone else." Somewhat sad words escaped his mouth. He couldn't help it. This wasn't fair. Why would anything want to stop just him from wandering? It absolutely must be for some other reason. He was so small. It was too big and too grand for him. The rest of the one time lively city beckoned beyond the towering pillars of flame. The flames very presence felt like despair given form. Nothing would be getting in or out through there. Nothing. Was anypony still alive beyond the other side of that wall?

Backtracking like this was not at all expected. Provided there even was a way to reach the rest of Manehattan it would add many miles to the journey. Some buildings dotted the horizon far off in the distance. Approaching revealed them to be mostly skeletal structures barely clinging to existence. One was slightly less decayed. Out front a very faded and smudged sign lay on the ground. Barely legible the lettering could just be made out to read 'Hippogriff Theater'. Daring to peek in through the remains of long ago shattered glass revealed only a large destroyed lobby. The rest was much too dark to bother searching within. It appeared like it was palatial and decorated to excess at one time.

Like all things now it was just another dreary reminder of a wonderful past few if any even remembered. A great chandelier once hung over the lobby. When the end came pieces of it were sent crashing down everywhere. Some pieces were thrown about with such force they were embedded in the walls and flooring. What was left of the building was a sad quiet collection of what amounted to nothing more than another ruin. Such a place could be worth exploring within if he had the time and inclination. Perhaps he would return here some other time. For the moment he already carried what was necessary. An instinctive feeling to scavenge was ignored for now. It was interesting, but would have to wait.

Far more important things were going on. Exploring at the current time might also result in unnecessary danger. Everything being so weird thus far left him feeling apprehensive and a bit spooked. Ponies were dying around here. Until this was all straightened out he would have to push against his own curiosity. Normally he would not have bypassed such a potential scavenging site. It simply was not worth it at the moment. Pressing on was the only option at present. Wearily he trudged to what he judged was northwest.

"I wonder if that other pony escaped? I hope there are at least others alive around here somewhere. What if they're really all dead?" Looking about furtively as he traveled along the distant edge of the strange wall of fire could still be made out. How far in both directions could it possibly stretch? Did it reach all the way across the entire region? It couldn't, could it? Where was it even coming from? There was nothing really burning within it that he could see. The ground itself was not even scorched beneath, but being anywhere near it the terrible heat could be felt. Except near the flames there was that creepy silence enveloping everything, everywhere. What if he never got out of here? What if he died on his way?

It was frightening. More and more fear was building inside. He should turn back. Hide somewhere until it all stopped. Almost feeling himself succumbing to this paralyzing fear he bopped himself hard across the muzzle painfully. Ouch.

"Oww. No! Whatever this is. Whatever is out there. I will not give up or give in." Rubbing the spot gently for a moment before moving on he actually felt a little better after that. His master said sometimes to get going a good whack was all one needed. This appeared to be true. The slight pain brought back focus on walking. It was not something to do without caution no matter how safe it might feel or appear now.

If he ever wanted to know what was going on or find anything out at all there was no choice but to find help. What if there was none?

"Am I really so focused on revenge? Maybe not. I think I really just want to know why, and then decide." He did indeed kill other ponies already, but they murdered his lifelong friend right in front of him and he was not thinking clearly then. Effectively he had been a father to him. Never having really thought about it before he realized this was so. He'd never called him that or anything, but it didn't matter. It was the case. He owed him everything and now he was gone forever.

He'd been a truly good pony in a world with almost none that were.

"I just want this to be over. He wasn't going to be around forever.." That may be true, but his life was cut short. He truly wanted to do whatever was necessary to make the one most responsible for this to at least explain his actions, and to pay for them. That mystery pony hidden in the dark. It almost felt like that dark figure was still laughing at his suffering from somewhere. This was not possible, but the feeling persisted. Why were there no other ponies around anywhere? This was really beginning to bother him.

After wandering this far it was almost a certainty to come across at least a few even at random. They often avoided one another, but this was getting ridiculous. Where could they all be? He'd almost traveled 20 miles in total as it was. There were very few, not that few. Not even one? What happened?

"Where is everypony? There has to be someone left alive around here doesn't there?" What if they were really all dead, leaving him the only one left? The world felt empty and lonely most of the time, but this thought left a terrible cold feeling in the gut. Trying to shake it off he ran onwards for a bit.

The muffled weak sound of his hooves did nothing to improve his nervous state. The strange deadening of sound which had gotten worse as he neared the wall of flames was keeping him on edge. Everything seemed weaker, duller somehow.

"I'm still alive. That must mean there are others as well. I cannot possibly be the only one." A reassurance to himself. Taking a deep breath helped. This gray world was always dull. How it could be even more so eluded the mind. Were the senses lying in some way?

"But why do I always feel like I'm being watched around here!?" This did bother him slightly. Not like before when he was attacked. This feeling just made him a bit jittery and nervous. Like something was just waiting to pounce from nowhere. That feeling he could not get rid of.

"I don't feel safe here. No matter where I go it's like there eyes watching me from somewhere, following my every move." In some way this felt much worse than things that could be confronted and fought directly. At least they were solid, and definitely real. You cannot simply fight a feeling to be rid of it. Something was watching, following. He just knew it.

Why wasn't it attacking him? Feeling like he was being surrounded left him trembling. This was grating and wearing on the nerves beyond belief. It was angering and annoying to extremes.

"I know you're there! Come out and lets get it over with, shall we!?" He yelled loudly. Normally he would never have done such a thing, but this feeling was getting worse and worse. No response. Was he just imagining things? His voice did not carry nearly as far as it should have. Another concerning thing. So much was piling up. Would this insane nightmare he'd been drawn into never end?

"Calm down. Keep a clear head you foal. What am I doing? That was completely idiotic. What would he say?" He was even talking rapidly. Almost feeling embarrassed he'd done such a thing was also annoying. It was exactly the sort of thing his master would have admonished him not to do. He would have to try to remain calm from now on. Monsters right in front of you were one thing. Imaginary monsters were another altogether. It was just his imagination running away on him, it was certain. It had to be. What else could it be?

"That wall of fire is no imaginary thing. I can't let myself think I'm safe just because things have been too quiet." Some time was taken to lean against a steel post sticking out of the remains of a street corner. He really needed to stop and eat a little before going further. He'd been neglecting eating a bit too long. Finding a little square structure that only had a roof held up by posts and was a semi-circle he decided to sit within the remains. It was better than no shelter at all and gave a good view of the surroundings. There were a good few buildings still standing around here. As usual they were very much battered and worn things. Lifeless. Uninviting and ugly. Dangerous. Yet, they still were marvels to admire.

One stood a full fifteen stories above. It looked like it would fall over at any moment. Much of the pitted front wall had fallen away over the years. The idea of climbing within such a wobbly looking structure to such a great height was chilling to think about. It would be dangerous in all sorts of ways. The stairs could break. A single missed step and a floor could give way beneath one, leading to a terrific view. At least for the brief instant before hitting the ground at a rate of speed even he would be envious of. There was at least one fear he'd never let on. It was almost a problem a few times in the past. A fear his master knew nothing of. One very deep fear never spoken of. Always hidden.

"I should have told you. You probably would have helped me do something about it. I'm sure you would. Though you are absent, I tell you now. I.. am afraid of being up high. I just felt so embarrassed, master. Silly, isn't it?" A deep sigh was given finishing up. It was true. If ever he needed to climb something higher than a couple stories it was nerve wracking. Any situation that may have required it was carefully avoided. Carefully explained away as simple caution. It was too late now. Any conversation which should have been shared long ago could never be now. It really was a silly fear. One that should not strike him so.

It should have been dealt with while the chance existed to do so, but they'd both expected to lead a long quiet life. There would be time. That time was stolen. Perhaps it was naive. Too hopeful. Too good. Nearby there was a large cement structure which looked like it lead straight underground. Half of the entranceway was collapsed leaving steep uninviting stairs just barely accessible. Going within could mean never returning to the surface. The lettering which once stood above was so faded with age it was illegible. Underground rail lines did exist. He explored a small remaining portion of one once. Could he possibly get past the huge wall of fire that way?

It would be a very dangerous gamble to go exploring underground in such a place. He knew there were a rare few other such entrances spaced far apart throughout the city. They were quite unsafe. Ponies don't belong underground.

"This feeling of being watched, it won't go away." The persistent feeling was annoying in one way, dangerous in others. If something really was watching his every move why couldn't he determine from where? It felt like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. It made relaxing even a moment feel like he was putting himself in mortal danger.

Shaking his head heavily he finished off the awful tasting packet he'd been nibbling on occasionally, only sipping at some water to down it. Knowing he would use far more water than food on a long trip like this lead to being quite cautious. The twin packs were positively full of scavenged water bottles. It made for a very heavy burden to carry. If he did encounter other ponies he would have to try and keep it a secret just how much water he was hauling around. It could easily make him a target for the more desperate or violent types out there, provided there were actually any left alive for it to matter.

"I can't stand this. Give me a straight up fight anytime." Bemoaning the situation wasn't helping.

Gathering up the packs yet again he set off. Looking down into the dark of the destroyed subway entrance revealed only a pitch darkness that for some reason made the blood run cold. Not being one to fear the dark made this a very curious sensation for him. What could be causing it? Ignoring it he bypassed the entrance to walk uphill and along a small rise. Cresting it did not show or really put anything new in view aside from the usual distant ruins.

"Something isn't right. I'm saying that a lot lately." This all felt like some ridiculous illogical puzzle was being presented which did not have any real solution. The weird silence in the area, the wall of fire, all the things attacking.

Altogether they simply did not add up in any reasonable way. Boss could not be responsible for all of this could he? At most he seemed like some sort of crazed and demented murderer. How did a simple murderer command so much fear or manage to order others about without being killed himself?

"I am assuming too much. He could very well be the reason behind all of this. I don't really know. This silence feels dangerous, but how does silence feel dangerous?" The question posed to himself did not leave a very good feeling as he walked on. Where was everypony?

By now he should have encountered quite a few of them no matter what was happening. They were not here, or anywhere. Where did they go?

"If there are no bodies then they might not be dead. I've only seen four ponies since I left." This did not prove to be a particularly comforting thought. Those four ponies were dead. One by his own hooves. Any number of things might have happened to the rest. A further 45 minutes of walking lead to some more standing ruins. Another subway entrance not nearly as damaged as the last stood here. On a whim he decided to take a look.

There did not seem to be any really good decision to make here so looking was as useful as anything else. Maybe some of the ponies in the area took shelter down there? It was a possibility. Knowing better than to simply walk right down he trotted up to the entrance and squinted, looking within. It was difficult to see anything in the pitch darkness below. Detecting something was amiss he sniffed at the air coming from within to find it strangely warm. Much too warm. Dangerously so. Oh no.

"Warm air?" That was just as puzzling as anything else. A dim glow seemed to flow down the hallway beneath.

He hit the ground hard as a veritable tongue of flames shot up the stairs and forth from the entranceway roaring like some fell creature loosed upon the world. The flames just missed and flashed by so close it ignited the top flap of his left saddle pack which was quickly kicked off. Frantically he retrieved a water bottle from the other pack and popped the top to pour over the flames. The pack was just singed. Grabbing the strap in his mouth he dragged them away from the entrance off to the side. He was lucky not to have been set ablaze along with it. That was too close. Small sprays of flames still burst from within occasionally. Suddenly what was left of it crumpled inwards, extinguishing the shooting flames.

At the same moment a strange rumbling was heard and the entire area shook slightly. What was that trembling noise?

"Was that, an earthquake?" The word was not commonly heard even before or during the war. They were a rare and highly unusual thing in Equestria at any time. Fortunately the pack only sustained minor damage. It would be a difficult thing to replace if destroyed. Wiping some sweat from his brow he once more donned the packs and returned to walking. That was entirely too close. He'd almost been killed again. This thought weighed heavily as he walked. Over and over he almost died. This was ludicrous. Again something with no answer. That was the most frustrating thing.

Not one answer since setting out. Not even one. Frowning he stumbled slightly and stopped to notice the heat. Heat? Why was it so hot here? It was getting hotter and hotter. Everything was. Especially the street underneath his hooves.

"Oww oww!" He danced around as the ground was becoming warmer and warmer. It was getting so hot his hooves were starting to hurt being in contact with it. There was no choice but to run onwards over the increasingly heated street and ground. Yelping while running he was making a terrible amount of noise while galloping in a mad dash for somewhere, anywhere, that was not burning his hooves. If the heat increased much further he would be in serious trouble.

As fast as he was the heavy packs were still slowing him down. He may even have to ditch them any second if he wanted to get out of here. This was a horrible moment. There was really no time to think, only run. As the heat emanating from the ground rose it hurt worse. Each time his hooves hit the ground the pain was incredible, forcing him to run flat out. Each time they contacted the unbearably hot street might be the last step he would ever take. Run. Run. Run.

"Aah!" With a final burst of energy he scrambled ahead to fly around a corner where the ground seemed to be cooler to the touch. At last the pain was lessening. A few more short leaps and it was bearable once more.

He stood there panting heavily. If not for his great speed and stamina he would surely have suffered a most terrible fate. Looking back he could see several of the tall ancient buildings now on fire. If there were anything to scavenge within them it was gone now. It felt bad to see them burn. A sad funeral pyre for days gone by.

"What is going on around here!?" He couldn't help himself. He had to yell. This was too much. If there was anypony else in the area the heat and him yelling would surely have brought them out. There was nothing. The odd rumbling was subsiding to leave in its place the same suppressive silence as before. There was no one here.

They either left already or were dead. He was completely alone.

"Grr." He bashed a nearby metal signpost in frustration which snapped the old steel in half. Noting the dilapidated sign read 'Cowbell Area' was not of any use. What even was that? Now there was little choice but to head northeast for the moment. While not exactly opposite of the way he wanted to go it was going to force him very much farther off-track in a bad way. More time wasted.

"Why is any of this happening?" He hung his head and cried heavily. There was no holding it back now.

For the first time ever he was truly afraid. This would scare almost anypony. Sniffling and sobbing terribly a few times he slowly came back around to keen stinging awareness. It took a while to catch some breath. He'd been crying an awful lot lately. Were tears drawn from a bottomless well?

"I guess I needed that. I feel like such a foal, getting all scared like this. I'm okay. I'm okay. Knock it off. I need to move." Brushing the tears away as he muttered at himself he did find it possible to focus again. A few more gasps and he was ready to go on. Sore muscles were aching from the strain of rushing like that while carrying so much weight.

It would require finding a place to stop and rest yet again, but staying anywhere near here did not seem like it would be safe. The need to put a great deal of distance between here and himself spurred to keep going for another hour. At least the feeling of being watched was gone, if it was ever really there to begin with. Finding himself near a little building with an odd hinged retractable door that still seemed workable he went inside cautiously. It was empty and strange. A flickering terminal set atop a long counter that occasionally sent sparks flying at random still displayed a partial message across the screen. 'Champion Skycart Repair' was prominent. The door was highly unusual to him.

It was a tracked multi-hinged affair that slid up the tracks on either side and across the ceiling. It was quite a curious thing to see. A metal chain hung from one side. Not able to resist he pulled on it which sent the door rumbling down along the tracks to slam closed with a tremendous banging crash and bending the extremely old metal slightly. So much for being quiet. It should be alright. The need to be more attentive rang true.

"Oh. Gosh darn it. I have to be more careful." It did not result in anything though. After a time he was able to try and get comfortable once more. It was not a really comfortable place, but it at least served to keep out of sight.

The slightly cool cement that made up the floor of this strange square building was a welcome change from the blistering heat just narrowly escaped from. Like anywhere else everything within was rusted and pitted. The sheer age of what buildings somehow managed to remain upright was showing more and more. The poor blasted remains of the ruins echoing only the faintest hope for a real future. Ever rebuilding the world seemed an absolutely impossible idea which none would entertain. The very thought was laughably absurd. Rebuild from this? Most ponies did not even know how such a simple structure as this tiny square was made to begin with, neither did he.

The ponies of the past were knowledgeable, powerful, they were considered legendary, almost thought of as gods for all they achieved and left behind. Left behind? They left nothing.

"Heh. All those gods left for us is a giant graveyard." He was repeatedly mumbling while thinking about these things. Was he going mad? This was an unusually angry and pessimistic thing to say or feel. He deserved to feel angry. He had every right. He thought to himself that it was allowed, to be mad about all this. Allowed to be horribly terribly angry. Once finally relaxed the slightest bit he caught himself staring at the cracked walls.

This miserable thing called existence seemed to be full of nothing but pain now. He'd been hurt over and over again in such a short time in so many ways. Life was not supposed to be like this. Somewhere inside it felt like this was the truth. Life felt like it was supposed to be happy and exuberant. A thing to be celebrated. The very world was wrong. It always was. Something always said so about this for all his life, but it was not something to be thought about. There was no option but to ignore it. Being pushed like this was giving rise to these feelings. It was wrong. There was just something about the state of the world in general which absolutely did not have the ring of truth to it. Why was it this way?

Not able to shove these thoughts and feelings aside he focused on trying to sleep on the uncomfortable floor. The little jail bed thing was almost missed. How far he'd fallen. How hard.

"Wish I'd brought my cot." There just wasn't any room to lug such luxuries around with him. It would be waiting for him to retrieve at a later date. If he ever went back, or was still alive to go back. That was becoming less and less certain. Never having really thought about the possibility of dying left uncertainty how to feel about it. His master was not afraid of it or anything else, and called it only a natural end that must come to all things in their time.

At the present time this was not a very comforting thought. Being killed did not at all seem right or natural. Feeling cold and miserable the brief relief of sleep welcomed at last. For the most part it was a deep and dreamless slumber. Perhaps brought on by the events of the previous days an unwanted stuttering dream intruded. Before him stood a fiery shadowed specter of a pony. Dark and menacing in the dim and dull light. Its legs were streaked with fire that turned to black fur which looked more like shadow itself halfway up. The fire wreathing around its waist like a belt. Fire streaming from its eyes to the sides seemed to give off little to no light of its own. Instead consuming it.

Everything was dimming, becoming darker. Dull and pale as color was torn from the world.

"Run, little pony." It intoned in some deep low hissing way that felt deadly in itself. It took a long slow stride towards him on thick almost spidery legs, smoke arose where its hooves contacted the ground making it melt, and those consuming eyes were coming closer.

"Ach!" He awoke with a start. What the hay was that? The last few days were the most miserable of his entire life. It must have just been something new his mind threw together out of all the misery and pain.

Soaked in sweat and moaning through the ache of his tensed muscles he found it difficult to muster the will to even stand up. Something about that dream felt very off. Weird and wrong. It was not the sort of thing he'd ever dreamt before. Muscles actually felt more tense now than before sleeping. He shook himself hard and stretched.

"I have to relax. That's a funny thing to say right now, but I do." Chugging a bit of water from one of the bottles made for feeling the slightest bit better. One whole bottle was wasted putting out the flames, but on the whole it was far better than losing the saddle packs. They were one of the few material possessions he ever had or cared to have. Avoiding the need for weapons meant they never spent much out of the caps they scrounged up either.

He was far more comfortable using his body and hooves to fight up close and personal, and was very good at it. To him the idea of using a weapon against another felt cowardly and fearful. Having seen how devastatingly powerful the weapons of old could truly be left thoughts of wondering if this was a good thing. Even at his fastest he could easily be hit by a stray bullet.

"No. I never needed one before and I don't need one now." If he could not survive on his own merit was he truly worthy of living at all?

"My master.. My father taught me everything I need to know and to live. Stop doubting. He believed in me. Trust." He was thinking about his master far too much. The point of the journey may be about him, but it was to the point of distraction and being distracted now could be deadly. The dream left a dreadful feeling deep in the gut that was proving difficult to shake off. Everything was just wrong.

"I still ache from that run. What even happened there?" It appeared safe enough to venture outside and continue the dangerous trip. A trip that was becoming dangerous on a scale he'd never imagined before.

It was hard to imagine even while actually experiencing it. With apprehensive feelings mounting and grandly discouraged by everything it was a chore just to work up the will to get moving again. Something beyond the absurd was encompassing this place. Every action feeling like it could lead to getting killed was taking a hefty toll on his mental fortitude. The scope and sheer size of things happening made for appreciating just how small he truly was when compared to them. It was only luck so far. Counting on that kind of luck to hold would be a poor gamble. Why was everypony gone, and where? Did they too head off in this direction or somewhere else?

Were they encountering things as powerful and dangerous as he was? Current thoughts were a haze of misgivings regarding the current course of action. Should he keep going? What else could be done but try to get out of here and find help? Was anybody even capable of helping put a stop to something like this? Constantly being on edge like this was so wearing. It was still far better to be wary than make some terrible misjudgement that could easily lead to an abrupt death. The thought about possibly making wrong decisions regarding what to do were another added weight not needed.

He would have to walk even more gently and gingerly for a while, standing on his hooves still stung a bit from the pain inflicted upon them. He'd been extremely fortunate to get out of there before winding up unable to keep running and melting to the ground with none to know of his passing. By his own judgement it was mere seconds that meant the difference between that and still being alive now. If he'd been forced to abandon the heavy packs he would have nothing now, not even the caps or few bits. That thought hurt. Aside from the food and water those might be needed. Heading back the other way would be impossible now. Was that street still on fire?

Any buildings over there would likely have been reduced to cinders by this time if so. Wild dreams and unfathomable things going on all around left only a wanting for his simple uncomplicated life back. A life which for the most part had been comfortable, if a little difficult at times. Was this the payment for leading a life filled mostly with ease?

"No choice but to go north for now." Totally in the wrong direction. He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever even reach the other sections of Manehattan. He'd always known the city was sprawling and very large. Never in his wildest imagining did he think it was actually this big. Whatever direction one was heading it seemed to fan out and go on forever.

At one time ponies were able to build all this? It left an ill feeling in the stomach. If they were capable of doing so much how could they possibly have fallen? Would the ponies of the old world have understood what was going on now? Would even they have known what it meant? Why it was happening? It was incredible how much they built, only to have it all come tumbling down around them. That any of it still stood at all proclaimed they certainly knew how to make things which endured. Such thoughts were making feelings of deep sadness known once more. It was pitiful.

"Beh. They're all gone anyway. If even they could die then they couldn't have been all that powerful, could they?" Momentarily it dawned on him this could be false reasoning. Even those with great power were often arrogant or prideful of accomplishments that did not really mean that much or could be lead astray with promises of even more. He never understood stories about ponies like that. If they already had so much power what could they possibly have needed with more, were they that insecure and so unsure of themselves? If he had that much power, confidence would not be an issue.

His master did tell stories about how too much power held by one can be abused or lead to a rapid downfall and never to be drawn in by false promises of such. There he went, thinking about him again. Would it always hurt? This was a pain unknown. It could never be made right. It could only be paid for.

"I will always remember all that you told me, but I must do this thing. I have to know." He bowed his head solemnly. Even if going after Boss resulted in being killed in the end, he just had to do it. That was not a choice. It must happen. Even if it was to the death he must know why. It was probably stupid. Suicidal. It didn't matter.

Whatever it took he was going to find out why even if finding out why resulted in his own death. It was a debt owed. One that must be paid in full. It wasn't about honor. It was simply about the truth. It must be known.

"I know, master. Don't do it. It's not worth it. Except, it is worth it, because it was you. Are you watching me from somewhere, seeing me act like such an idiot? I know it's dumb. Probably just going to get myself killed. I need to know. I hope you understand." In life he would never have had occasion to say something like that to him. In death he was being driven like never before. It burned inside like its own kind of fire. The truth. No matter how painful.

Even if it also turned out to be caused by a stupid reason. At least it would be an answer. It really likely wasn't worth it. Knowing would not stop the pain inside. The feelings of loss and horror over it.

"I guess I'm not all that bright after all. I can't even imagine what is going on around me right now. I just want to know why, before I die." At this moment it was the only thing. If it were not for that desire it would be so easy to give up. Too easy. To just wait for something in the dark to step forth once more and finish the job would be the laziest thing ever considered by him.

"Not yet. I'm not done yet. Once I know. Then we'll see what happens. This is so hard. Were you ever pushed this far, master?" Questioning the air was pointless. Futile. Wasting time. It took willpower to move. So much of it. After taking a few deep breaths he headed outside. It was time to get going again. No matter what it took he was going to get the help that was required. Forced far off-track and feeling discouraged was not going to be enough to stop this driven pony. Definitely not now. Not after having come this far. Some terrifically wild and strange things were going on that may or may not be related in any way to whatever Boss was after, but it didn't matter. Today was going much better as he traveled.

No monsters, no deathtraps, no nothing as he ventured forward. In the distance to the west he could still just make out the telltale glow of the gigantic wall of flames. How far could it actually extend? He hoped not to encounter anything else untowards today. So far it was going nicely. Just being able to walk slowly along was a welcome change compared to the last few days. The glow seemed to be receding from view finally. Perhaps now he might be able to turn westwards and finally make some actual progress towards his destination. The entire trip was going to be nearly twice as long thanks to this huge detour. The day passed uneventfully for once.

Eventually passing by someplace titled 'Mareipola Golf Course' according to a charred looking sign made him come to a stop. Whatever golf was. His hooves still hurt some and he needed to find a good spot to sleep a while.

"I'm lucky I didn't get hurt a lot worse. Everything going on around here is insane. " He complained to the air. It really was insane. What could set the very ground and air on fire? There were many strange stories of things in the wastes, but he'd never heard of anything even remotely similar to any of this. Stories of killer machines, apparitions, crazed ponies and all sorts of otherworldly things just did not seem comparable.

Pushing hard to make up for lost time was not possible at the moment as much as it was desired. Fatigue from walking all day was setting in. Having had the chance to actually relax for a while was just what he'd been needing. Being on edge for days now due to all the odd things happening was really putting a damper on his willpower and spirits. The downtime was proving just as useful as making progress on this trip. Several times now he'd been hurt. If this sort of problematic luck kept up he'd wind up dead for certain. Feeling a chill inside at the thought of the odd circumstances surrounding left one with only discouragement. Was going on like this a good idea? With no idea?

"My hooves still sting. Am I ever going to get out of here or find anypony else?" Wondering such things aloud was becoming commonplace. It felt for all the world like there was no end to these illogical events. Spending even another minute in this area was not appealing in any way. Ahead to the right was a big jumble of wrecked buildings. Pieces of a shattered sign had fallen years ago and shattered. What remained only left 'tr lub'. Once part of a country club adjoining the golf course it told him little. It might have drew a laugh if he knew ponies were once able to partake in such a silly activity and actually enjoy it. It would also have seemed ludicrous that ponies were ever so secure and relaxed.

Things like sports were essentially nonexistent now. There were no obvious doors remaining on any of the toppled structures. Most of the ruins were slanted pieces of brick and other materials left at odd angles. Materials once well known to ponies. Never having encountered the scientifically or engineering inclined he did not know what any of it really was or what they were called. Such ponies were not often to be found. In the crippled world left to them those who did possess knowledge tended to use it for their own ends, keeping it to themselves, and those ends were often not in others best interests. Sighing heavily he began searching for an out of sight spot in which to hide for the night.

An unbearable journey was not what he'd been expecting when he set out. At most it was thought he might have to slip by some of Boss' minions and then be on his way unimpeded to find assistance. Perhaps this had been poor reasoning on his part, but he did not have any reason to think otherwise when preparing to leave. While they obviously possessed serious firepower he'd not imagined them to have any other advantage. None of them may even have anything to do with the weird things going on around here. For now, all that could be assumed was they were probably still around and needed to be avoided. Were they trapped by the flaming wall as well? Thinking this was less comforting.

They wielded tremendously powerful weaponry. If they were trapped too, was there any chance of escaping this? After what happened with the erupting street the day before he would not risk any further effort to go underground if it could be at all avoided. He'd also found himself almost afraid to step forward from time to time. It was difficult to shake, but having been in danger so often was leaving him so nervous. Thinking he detected some odd scent far off in the air it was dismissed as simple imagination brought on by it all. Right now he just needed to pull himself together. A little time with nothing weird happening was ever so pleasant. The stress and strain of the last few days nearly brought him to the breaking point.

He found it difficult not to think up new horrors awaiting as he moved forward. Feeling like something was after him for the entire other day did not help either. He was quite often randomly finding himself taking really deep breaths when he did not actually need them. He took this to be bad for him but just couldn't seem to stop it from happening, and shook his head hard. Locating an out of the way spot behind a crumpled pile of bricks and a formerly opposing wall he dropped his packs and lay his head on one as a hard sort of pillow, wrapping his forehooves around as if hugging it. He did not realize this was a way of comforting himself. The pain and loss he was feeling was overwhelming.

There was no one else to give any comfort so without realizing it he'd been doing little things like that from time to time as a method of coping. If a pony trained in psychology had seen him they would know he was in a truly bad place, and that it was very unhealthy. Such a diagnosis of wasteland residents might be relatively common if there were any around to make it. Pain and suffering were hardly an unknown in this stricken world. Most experienced it in some way or another. It was merely his turn to know it in his own way. He was also finding himself unusually angered by everything he'd been put through so far. Stopped short of leaving this section of the city and forced in the wrong direction was really getting to him.

The enormity of it was grating for him to think about. Did all good in its entirety finally flee the world completely? Was it all about to end? Didn't it already end? What did it matter? He was not realizing or catching himself acting at all oddly. It wasn't even on his mind. Things were so strange and frustrating lately he was not noticing that he was thinking either depressively or so angrily about it all. He would never have thought this way before and was slowly being driven into it. Once again he thought there was some hint at a faintly foul odd odor very far away, but brushed it off as simple fatigue. At least he hadn't lost his packs. While they were nothing special, they were something he and his master found together.

Having them be destroyed would have hurt terribly atop all the terrible hurt that was already being felt lately. There was just so much.

"Is there nothing really good left in the world? Is it truly all gone? Why are you gone? Father." He mumbled sadly. Only a little over a week and a half ago he'd never have imagined things could ever become this bad. The word rolled off his tongue naturally. Realizing he'd actually been saying that was an odd sensation. It was true though, it always had been. It was very hard to find a position he could sleep in.

Though life was hard, he'd never truly felt wanting before these last few days. Would it ever feel alright again? Feeling like all the world was set against him now was a very depressing thing. Was it ever going to end? Was he going to find his death out here facing off against some unknown? Some horror waiting in the dark for the unwary? He was not afraid to die. That was never a thought. What was needling him most now was the fact something faceless almost killed him twice now. He truly wanted to know what all this was about before meeting his end. Perhaps find a way to stop it all, but at least knowing what it was would let him die more at ease. It would be something.

"Stop it. I am not going to die yet. He..wouldn't have wanted me to think this way." It was hard not to. He had to force himself to think straight. Yes things were weird and possibly deadly, but they failed to kill him so far. Feeling sorry for himself was not something he was used to, so much that he wasn't even really sure about what he was feeling. Others would have stood much less chance than he did. Somehow he was sure of that. It wasn't overconfidence, just the simple fact he seemed to be surviving where no one else appeared to be.

"There have to be other ponies alive somewhere, there just have to be." He was finding it very hard to slow down his racing thoughts and sleep. Somewhere out there something menacing and fearsome was waiting for him to make a mistake, some terrible misstep and wind up dead. Such a mistake he was determined not to make. Unable to shake the feeling something was wrong also made it difficult to rest. There was nothing around the immediate vicinity that should leave such an impression on him. The tension of this undertaking was playing havoc on him in many ways. Sleep was important. Especially now, and as much as possible might be needed.

Tossing and turning while trying to rest with his mind racing was simply not good. A couple hours later he found himself still struggling to really sleep, staring up at the blank sky vacantly. It should be an easy thing to fall asleep when pushed so far, but his thoughts kept meandering in strange circles. At last his eyes fell heavy and closed entirely to the welcome embrace of quiet darkness, and with it the inevitable bad dreams brought on by his current plight. He walked past one of the common wrecks of a building and stopped to take notice of a strangely pretty mare standing in the darkness of an overhang, gazing out at him with a look of utter sadness.

As he approached her a quiet weeping and sniffling could be heard. She was crying profusely.

"Miss, what's the matter?" He questioned her cautiously. At this, however, her face began to melt away as the tears burst into flames, making him stumble backwards. Soon her entire body began to collapse into streams of water until nothing was left but a steaming pool of the deepest and clearest crystal color he had ever seen. It shimmered and sparkled where the pretty mare formerly stood. What happened? Against better judgement he moved closer step by step, inching along until it could be gazed into it. He froze in his tracks as he was transfixed by a vision in the pool.

He looked over a town. It was silent, empty. Doors hung open and ponies belongings lay strewn about everywhere. Whatever happened here was sudden and violent. All the buildings were a deep black color. Were there any color all of them would be beautiful works of architecture. In place of color some pitch seemed to make them all dull, somehow looking even more lifeless than the ruins he'd called home his whole life, like their very essence was sucked away. He didn't want to see this, it felt wrong to see. Apprehension and alarm bells ringing in his head could not seem to pull him away from staring at the unfolding scene.

Some distance away something he just knew was terrible beyond anything he could imagine was happening. He felt glad he could not see it, whatever it was. The vision popped over to show an immense ponylike shadow rising from the depths, taking shape. First a somehow hideous blank head solidified out of blackness. There were no eyes, no mouth adorning its muzzle. It formed slowly, inexorably rising quietly ever higher towards the night sky. A ring of fire ignited around it into a weird symbol. The sight of it was disgusting in some intangible way. The wrongness of it, the shape of it as it became visible, nothing about it was quite right.

His view of it was from a vast distance and even this far away it looked like its wispy mane writhed and wriggled in some absolutely disgusting manner. A sick feeling was overpowering as its misshapen chest slipped into view. Desperately he wanted to look away from this abysmal thing. It drew itself upwards until it stood on tremendous huge shafts of shadows for legs. The sheer height of the shadowy pony let it stand far above a tower with a huge bell inside. This was something a pony should not see. Never. Wake up. Please. Something would not let him look away from it.

Laboriously lifting an impossibly immense hoofed limb the huge beastly thing reached out and struck the bell within, loosing a resounding noise so loud he thought surely his ears would pop. As it rang out across the land little flickering shadows rose all around. The disturbing sight left him feeling ill for some reason. At last he was backing away from the horrible image in the pool as something struck from the side and whooshed past. As he turned to see what it was he saw himself being surrounded by the very shadows streaming out from the pool. Somehow he could feel their presence. It was vile and ominous. He wanted to move away from them but found himself curiously unable to move a hoof.

The shadow things were forming up out of the water, the ground, everything. They in no way felt alive. A horrid awful power which dwarfed everything else was about to come crashing down. He could feel it building to something terrible. Why wasn't he leaving?

"What are you!? Get away from me! No!" There was nowhere to go as they circled about, bobbing up and down sickeningly. Their motions were jerky, wavy, sick. Something was telling him to move, to run, to do anything but stand here. He could not. There was no fear greater than this. His limbs trembled against such inaction in the face of these horrors.

He should run. He should run and never ever stop. I have to move. I have to move. Why can't I move? I can't let them touch me. They mustn't. No matter what he thought, no matter how much he willed his legs to start moving they did not respond. It was unbearable. Some great pressure felt like it was rooting him to the spot. Being dwarfed like this was like nothing ever felt before. A strange feeling of sad loneliness funneled into him to bring forth gushing tears which burned as they fell. Streaking fire started to roll off the tears as they ran down his face, carving their way downward. He could not make them stop. Was this what happened to the pretty mare only a few moments ago? Was he going to die?

It would not stop. Try as he might more and more tears flowed to erupt in fire as they scarred him, engulfing his head. He could not even seem to fall over, only stand there as he was torn to shreds. There would be nothing left of him. No trace of his existence. Nothing to warn others of his fate, of this doom.

"I can't move! Somepony help me! Help me, please!?" He yelled in vain. Nopony would be coming to save him, he would burn and be consumed in fire and shadow. As he quivered the awful things were coming closer and closer. All he could do was shudder violently in fear. A fear he'd never known. This wasn't like him at all. What's wrong with me? Move!

It was no use, and the pain so incredible. The amorphous bloblike shadows looking for all the world like some sickening caricatures of ponies stretched themselves out and flowed about him, holding him, swallowing him up in their darkness and incomprehensible sadness. He could feel their despair seeping into his soul. Awaking with a start he banged his head against his pack. Fortunately he hadn't slammed his head harder.

"No! Oof. Oh, it was just a dream? Oh, thank goodness." Nightmares seemed to be coming to him rather a lot recently. What was wrong with him? He'd never felt fear like that before, or anything like that really. Certainly nothing like that.

He panted very heavily.

"It was just a dream. I have to calm down." Rubbing his head gently with a hoof he decided against trying to get more sleep at the moment. His head ached much more from the terrible dream than from knocking it against the pack. The same awkward feeling of being watched from somewhere was upon him again strongly. Why did that keep happening? It must be his imagination, what else could it be?

"Found you." Some dark and deep intonation from around the corner stated.

He was on his hooves in an instant to dodge as a large metal bolt struck the ground where he was laying. It would surely have been fatal if he'd kept still. He'd barely caught a glimpse of it coming down. It dug unusually far into where it hit. The shadowed figure stepped forth from the corner into view. A pony wearing a black cloak with red trim all around it whose eyes were equally red took strangely deliberate steps into view. Both its eyes were huge, glowing a deep red that echoed the hue of blood. There was a tiny dot of yellow in their centers. They seemed to have no pupils and constantly quivered.

Hanging from the cloak by folds were countless wicked knives made out of some metal material he'd never seen before. The knives were clearly designed to be easily thrown and accessed by hoof or mouth. They were all rusty looking and covered in gore which stuck to them all over like they'd never been cleaned. Who, what could this lunatic be? It mostly looked like a pony. It was difficult to look at, all shimmery in the dim light.

"Who are you, why are you attacking me?" Maybe he would finally get an answer of some kind. As the pony revealed himself it was a disturbing sight.

Even clearly in view he could not truly be seen and looked almost wavery somehow like he was constantly shaking rapidly, almost vibrating visibly. Having shaken off sleep almost instantly was a bit of a shock in itself. This pony thing looked terribly dangerous.

"Perhaps a better question might be what. What am I?" That dark voice stated in a questioning hiss. What was he saying? The voice grated and in itself almost seemed to make him angry. Why was he feeling so angry at a voice? It was the pony right in front of him he should be worrying about. Was it actually asking him what it was? Why would it?

Could it really be asking such a thing?

"I do so hope you stop me." It intoned. What? He was the one being attacked. What could this clearly cruel thing be talking about? Some of his or its many knives and other sharp objects were positively dripping with fresh blood. It wasn't from either of them, not yet. Did it belong to the other ponies around here? At the current moment it didn't matter. There was no more time to think about that. Whoever he was he'd already made the first move towards ending his life and would have to be cautious in fighting him.

Taking another of those strangely deliberate steps towards him the shimmery dark form of a pony flicked a blade in his direction with its mouth that somehow deeply tore through his shoulder even as he moved out of the way. How did that happen? He'd seen it coming. It happened again.

"Oww. What? I know I dodged those. What's going on?" He moaned in pain and panic as it took another odd deliberate step towards him once more and sent another blade flying through the air right at his face. He moved far to the side and yet a slim slice went up the side of his muzzle. Little drops of blood were starting to hit the ground each time he dodged.

This was hopeless. He couldn't stop them.

"Aah. What is this guy? How is he doing this?" It was so hard to figure him out. Each time he dodged its head twitched. His knives were almost too obvious, easy to avoid for somepony as fast as himself. Yet, somehow they were still striking even as he moved out of the way. This couldn't possibly be a pony could it? Not really. This must be some kind of monster. Whatever it was it clearly was enjoying gauging his reaction to being puzzled like this.

It threw another jagged blade and just as before although he rolled far to the side and it went sailing past it sliced downwards across his opposing flank just deeply enough to hurt. Wait. It sliced down the opposite side? How could it be? The blade had flashed by on his left. Moving much further than should be necessary did seem to lessen their strength greatly.

"This can't be a pony can it? Ohh. I know that was on my right. I know it was. It's attacks always connect somehow, but they feel wrong. What is it about them?" As he tried to determine a course of action the thing continued to launch individual daggers and terrible well-used sharp objects at him causing him to weave and dodge constantly in a deadly and soon to be fatal dance of desperation.

Each throw was accompanied by some odd tinging noise. How many could possibly be hanging off that strange cloak? Its weapons practically made a suit of armor in themselves. Only the face was uncovered. It was strangely quiet aside from that slight sound. So far only the close cut against his shoulder did any real damage. The rest of the nicks and gashes were oddly thin like he was being cut with paper. This thing was giving no time to consider, no time to react or do much other than dodge. Attacking was completely out of the question if some clue to it could not be gleaned. Trying to step clear of another deathly projectile he almost tripped and nearly got struck by a rapidly thrown second.

"What was that? There is nothing here to trip over." He groaned to himself and sidestepped quickly. This was becoming more deadly. There was certainly no doubt this thing intended to kill him. There was probably no point trying to reason with it. A slight idea was slowly taking shape. This thing was watching his every move intensely. If that hideous dream hadn't awakened him he'd of died instantly. Ting. Another shallow groove creased through his coat. Its aim was perfect. Speed alone was the single thing keeping him alive right now. Must keep moving wildly. From above another of those hefty huge bolts came from somewhere to slam into the ground. Almost too close.

If any of those even remotely connected that would be the end of it. Why was it so hard to see those coming? They were as big as his head and should be obvious. Were they part of some strange trap? This insane thing did not belong here. It looked like it was dredged up out of some terrible dream no one would even try to remember. The wavery apparition continued to throw its deathly sharp instruments at him, it clearly intended to deprive him of his life. Trying to move towards it without knowing how this was being done was impossible. Again and again small nicks and slashes cut against and sometimes through his coat. He could take it for now, but it would soon begin to cost dearly.

None of them had truly struck home yet, but he could not possibly keep this up forever. As fast as he was there was little room to maneuver in this decrepit place. The alley was just wide enough to evade in. All that could be done right now was to size up his opponent. It said little, revealed nothing. It was truly an adept fighter, using some technique he'd never imagined before. Not a single move was wasted. It was too skilled. Every thrown weapon somehow at least lightly hit their mark no matter how hard the effort was to evade them. Desperately he seized one of the knives already on the ground and threw back at the thing. He'd never used a weapon before.

The creature looked surprised, but instead of dodging it took another of those strangely deliberate steps forward. The knife zipped through the air to hit its target and passed straight through. What? It didn't strike anything and banged off the opposite wall. Wasn't it even there? Was he truly fighting a shadow? Something intangible, untouchable? How could he possibly face this? This thing was death given shape and form. Was it just playing with him? Surely it could have taken him out at any time if it was invulnerable. A strange and dreadful feeling of terrible heat was emanating from the monster before him. Heat? It felt like the warm air that shot past him before at the subway entrance.

There was a definite warmth flowing forth from the horror slowly approaching. Was he just imagining this? At this point anything might be possible. Again a jagged instrument flung past to somehow cut across his left foreleg. Each cut stung. He didn't want to leave them there but he could not grab his packs and get out of this. Did this thing want his belongings? Did it want anything other than his life? Running and weaving his way out of the alley only to be struck lightly yet again on the side. It did not cut but he felt the cold touch of metal swish by against his coat. How was it doing this? Perhaps out in the open he would stand more of a chance. While he ran he noticed some sickly odor coming from somewhere.

Was it coming from that thing? It walked down the alley slowly as if it did not care at all that he was moving rapidly away from it. There wasn't enough room in this alleyway. It was all too easy for this thing to keep whipping knives at him straight on. If this kept up he'd be killed for certain. There was no choice but to retreat now.

"How did it even find me anyway? I know nothing saw me go in there. I myself would have had trouble finding me in that spot." He moaned at the pain from the series of minor cuts he'd taken so far. Ting. Thump. Again a heavy bolt landed heavily in the ground aside him, throwing up dirt. Where did that even come from?

If the murderous thing behind didn't kill him the deadly bolts from above certainly could. This was crazy. Now out in the open and turning to face this thing which seemed to have come straight out of his nightmares left him cold. The thing continued to shimmer and shift in a sight only vaguely resembling a pony. What could this thing possibly be? It was nearing.

"What do you want? I do not want to fight you." By this point he wasn't really expecting an answer to that and did not get one. Instead another knife flashed past. It was not even aimed at him, or was it? What? He jolted to the side as he felt the knife lightly scrape his face across a previous cut. Again it didn't hit him. He knew it didn't. It couldn't have.

There was something terrifically strange about the knives and the way they flew, something off. Every time he dodged they definitely missed but was nicked yet again. This was not working.

"I've finally figured you out, monster." He stated calmly. Hearing this the terrible thing continued to flicker in view and lowered itself as if to charge straight at him. Its strangely adorned cloak almost seemed to float along behind it as it went to step out of the alley. He could not let it do that. There would only be one shot at this. What would it do? The knives appeared to be floating and quivering of their own accord and all seemed to be launched up and down at him as he ran straight towards this otherworldly opponent.

A veritable barrage of jagged wicked blades rained about him as he zipped towards this creature about to emerge into the open. They weren't really hitting him now. Ducking and diving with all his speed was just barely letting him work his way in closer and closer to finally land a tremendous blow with both forehooves straight into the face of this dark thing which sent it twirling backwards awkwardly along with its myriad bloody knives and tools to roll to a heavy stop. There was a sickening crack and thud. The knives all hit the ground. He could see it now. All of them were attached to the cloak by nearly invisible strings of some type that were impossibly thin. Somehow it was manipulating them the entire time as they flew.

No wonder he wasn't able to avoid them earlier. The only reason this thing hadn't easily killed him in the alley was due to the surrounding walls which made it difficult for it to land a direct hit. If he'd realized what was happening even an instant later it would have been too late. Having nearly been skewered by this crazy thing left his heart pounding and him looking about wildly. He could also see now the bolts were attached to the same strange razor sharp threads, their size and weight would have made them more difficult to control which is the only reason he wasn't dead by the first blow. The pony thing lay there trembling in its cloak.

He neared it from an angle he thought would be safest should it prove able to attack again. It still looked shimmery and dull. Its face was still just as hard to see as before.

"Good...boy. I knew you could do it." That awful angering voice hissed. Its head hit the ground. It heaved and its cloak ruffled while its body slowly sank, disappearing into the ground as all its knives and weapons were dragged under with it. Was it taunting him?

"Wait! What are you? Why did you attack me?" Too late. It was gone. Not a trace remained.

It was infuriatingly frustrating. He stomped on the ground despite his shoulder. It hurt a lot. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. STOP IT.

"Nothing makes sense. Nothing makes any sense!" He huffed and tried to regain his composure. This was fraying the nerves. Now he'd just fought with some thing that simply disappeared after defeating it. He was positively covered in little nicks and some longer cuts. His fur actually saved him from a few wounds. He did not entirely avoid them all, that would have been impossible.

Instead, he'd chosen to let some cut across him on purpose as he ran forwards so they would deflect others. A calculated gamble. A slower pony than he would have been slaughtered with ease and stood no chance whatsoever. The fight was definitely real. The scars of it would be with him for quite some time. He wandered back to his packs groaning in pain. The right shoulder had taken the deepest cut. He was once again hurt badly enough to be slowed down by such an injury and that would hamper even his great speed if it was needed. He would have to find another location to rest. The pain made it difficult to want to move at all, but staying here could be inviting more trouble.

He'd been beaten up so badly several times now. All he wanted to do was confront Boss, nothing more. Did any of this have something to do with that original encounter? Was it to be his fate to endure torture after torture? Shaking his head he set about locating a secure building further to the northwest. Somewhere he could actually hide inside of. He just realized he'd only been found outside each time something happened. Was there something to that? It was only a wild guess, but it was more than there was to go on before. It was worth a minor gamble. There was no evidence at all left of the fight here. Would anypony believe it if he told them? It felt to him as if all reality itself were collapsing about his head.

Maybe he'd been driven insane? It certainly happened to other wastelanders. Insanity wasn't hard to come by.

"No. No. I did not dream this. The pain is too real." He muttered while walking. It hurt to carry the packs now. Never having felt this absolutely angry or frustrated ever before he found himself having great difficulty reining it in. Like a pathetic lump he limped along for a good while until happening across a strangely intact old road. As with anything it was cracked and marred by endless disuse. By some miracle of simple location a few buildings here took almost no damage except that inflicted by the passage of time. even one of the windows was still in the frame unbroken.

It must have been very sturdy. He might even have marveled at it if he wasn't in such pain. Even the ancient sign across the top though damaged had somehow not fallen off its steel hangers. It read 'East North Neighings Botanical Facility and Forest River Park'. If there was ever a river of some sort here it was not apparent. Many things no longer were.

"East North?" He muttered. That was a strange title. He might have laughed at the odd sign in other circumstances. As it was he was aching and hurting from stinging cuts in various place. He was only lucky he'd figured out his opponent was not only controlling his weapons after they were thrown, but that where it stood was actually in a slightly different location than he could see.

If he hadn't realized both these things just in time he would have went sailing right past his attacker and been torn to pieces. Even knowing this he was lucky to have been able to land such a blow and end it so decisively. Letting it into open space would have been disastrous for him. A mere split second was all that spared him this time around. How many times was he going to run into weird things bent on putting an end to him?

"This is ridiculous. Why does it seem like everything in the whole world is trying to kill me?" He was certainly allowed to complain now, wasn't he? He was tired, hurting and starting to feel entirely alone in the world.

Was he truly all by himself? The last living pony anywhere perhaps? Was that even possible?

"These wounds sting. I've got to clean them out just in case. Gonna have to waste some water doing it." As per usual the building proved to be empty of anything useful. He did manage to find some cloth material in a drawer that seemed clean enough to use. The deep cut on his shoulder was the worst of the lot. After gently sprinkling water as sparingly as possible and cleaning each stinging gash to the best of his ability he took to tearing the remainder of it into long strips he managed to wrap about himself and tie off.

Figuring a unicorn could have done this much easier than him left just a little feeling of pride he was able to do so without such aid. He'd seen unicorns manipulate objects before with their horns. They called it magic and it was fascinating, but he was not envious of the ability. He'd always made do before and was happy enough until this engulfing insanity erupted about his life. All he could do for now was wait and heal up again. This journey was truly not going well at all. It was fortunate he'd brought so much water along with him. As it was he was going through it at a pace he could not have anticipated. It was not like he'd set out unprepared, just not prepared for all of this. Whatever this was.

No one could have been. It was too strange and unknown. There were still many miles to head off towards the northwest before he could finally turn back towards the south and hopefully find a way out of the area. There must be other ponies somewhere? The world was proving to be quite huge after all. It was simply not a possibility he could be the only one left alive in it, was it? How far would he be pushed? Not only was he being pushed in the wrong direction, but pushed in many other ways. Conflicting feelings were rising inside, maybe clouding his judgement and he knew it. Lifting a foreleg he pressed it against his forehead and closed his eyes tightly.

Thinking too much right now was really not good for him. Being forced into a fight after sleeping so poorly did no wonders for his demeanor. There was another feeling amidst all this nagging at him. Never having felt it before he didn't quite know what it was. He wanted, to go home. He was homesick. It was so bad it almost caused choking. He'd never felt it before because he'd never really left home before. Not like this. Not without his master, and never so far away. He'd done everything for him, tried to ensure his life was as happy as could be. There was no helping it this time. Pouring tears burst forth with a guttural howl of pent up rage and sadness mixed together. It all hurt so badly. When would this be over?

"Why did you do so much for me? For everypony you ever met? You didn't have to care about me or them. I was just a little lost colt. No one else would have helped me. You didn't owe me anything. Why couldn't I save you!? I'm sorry...." Trailing off sobbing and shaking, his face was being soaked by the torrent welling up from within. Crying this much burned the eyes. It was impossible to stop. Long moments passed as such great anger and sadness finally subsided a little. No matter what he did it would always hurt. Even if he found out why. Even if he killed Boss. He just knew it wouldn't. Never ever. He was panting heavily, his head and tail drooped so low. Ears flattened. A great deal of time must have passed.

He wound up staring at the floor of this building from the old days. It took a few moments to realize he'd sort of fallen asleep standing up. This was not highly unusual for a pony, and it never felt like true sleep but he'd rarely done it. It was more a defensive thing. It must have been done instinctively. A few hours definitely passed. Had he been crying all that time even as he stood there half out of connection with reality? Knowing he'd been acting weird lately and somewhat not himself worked up worrying about this, but it was natural wasn't it? Still feeling very tired he leaned against a heavy solid steel desk in utter weariness. One of the only things left in here from times past.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. What if one of those things already killed Boss? What then? I'll never know why. It doesn't matter. If he is dead then good riddance. Even if I knew why it won't bring him back." Perhaps these things or something else had killed them, and all the thugs too. After all he hadn't seen one of them since over a week and a half ago. It was still something that could not be assumed. A deep sigh and a moment later he was curled up against his packs. All he needed to do was keep going. Going until he found other ponies. Help. Something. Anything. They must be out there somewhere. Real sleep overcame him this time. For once a happy dream was granted. His master giving him a warm hug.

Lots of warm hugs. Lots and lots. So many of them. Uncountable. They were always so warm. As he was growing up he'd always given them freely and so kindly to him. They felt like something he'd never had before. Did his real parents ever do that? Did he even have real parents before? There were no memories, nothing of them. Such warm hugs. He'd been so generous. Giving a poor colt that would have quickly starved a home and at least a chance at some sort of life. If another had found him they probably would have killed him or sold him into slavery and called it being generous. It might even have been the truth.

Offspring were often considered a burden on their parents, something to be used as soon as they were able. Even sold to others will. It was just how things were. He always smiled so happily at him. He even seemed proud to have him there. Proud of the things he did and learned. Always smiling. That feeling of warmth he gave. How could anypony be so good to another in this world? How did he deserve all those warm comforting hugs? He was just another in a long line of lost souls left wandering this vast and lonely world. He'd made him feel so happy and safe. There was never a feeling of want or emptiness living with him. A flicker in the dream woke him. Finding himself smiling stupidly he got up.

He'd needed that reminder of good moments very badly. It hurt in some way, but the vile and violent ending of their life could not diminish how much those memories truly meant. How good they were in a not so good world.

"Still encouraging me even now, aren't you?" It was just a dream, but it helped so much. Stretching gently and brushing a couple errant tears away he turned to look out the window. It was quite dirty, almost impossible to see out of. That did mean nothing should be able to see him through it either. Although assuming being indoors was preventing things from finding him was the merest fraction of a guess there was at least a tiny possibility it was true.

It would be the first time on this entire trip so far even the slightest thing could potentially be understood. It was not something to be trusted, but each time he'd slept inside somewhere nothing had come across him. Sniffing at the air he thought there was a hint of that same strange scent he'd noticed before. What could it be? It was still far away but it seemed like he was getting closer to the source. Was he unwittingly moving towards yet another awful encounter with something terrifying? Having been pushed to the brink over exhaustion and being hurt repeatedly left worries about his resolve and ability to continue.

No longer bleeding from any of the wide array of small cuts he'd received was good, but the deep slash through his shoulder ached very badly. It would be far too easy to reopen if care was not taken. There was no choice to be made here. He could not possibly stay hidden in a strange place for as long as it would take to fully heal from his injuries this time. His supplies would dwindle and having no idea where to obtain more at the moment would lead to being even more vulnerable. He would have to try and sneak forward, creeping if he must. It could only be hoped he was still in capable enough shape to reach his destination.

The packs were not quite as weighted down compared to when he'd launched himself into this agonizing venture. A venture never imagined to contain a seemingly infinite variety of nightmares. No, at least some of these things were no dream. More like a terrible dream stepping into reality. What was that horrid thing that nearly carved him to pieces? The slightest mistake would have resulted in a quick bloody death. An end with no answers at all. That thought hurt. At least an answer regarding Boss was desired before he died. Somewhere out there must be one. It would be okay to die then. That time was not yet upon him.

Even breathing today was pained, laborious thanks to the extreme exertion put upon his poor aching muscles. All he really wanted was to be at home, with his master. There was nothing else in all the world wanted right now. A yearning want that would never be fulfilled again. All thanks to what was probably nothing more than a demented power mad pony. He'd donned his packs. Before this trip they'd only received light use. Now they were looking a bit ragged. The singed strap was concerning. They no longer fit quite as comfortably as before and sagged on the one side a little bit. This small annoyance was also angering. It grated and chaffed against his midriff from time to time due to the way it now hung.

"I keep feeling so angry about everything. I have to stop this. I know that isn't me. It has never been me. All I want now is answers and maybe the reason for my suffering to suffer for it as well." Spitting on the ground was satisfying. Trying to stay out of sight as he traveled was a bit of an issue here. The land in the immediate vicinity was quite bare. There were a few far off buildings to the north which could barely be made out. One of them must be extremely tall to be seen from this distance. Although he'd seen tall buildings before they never appeared safe enough to venture inside or up to their dizzying heights. They might contain some valuables, but the risk would be heavy.

Many of them were rickety, barely able to remain standing as the ones which toppled over what he'd called home for all these years attested. There was definitely one positive thing from all this. It was certainly driving his thirst for exploration, and fulfilling it some. There were so many things he knew nothing about. If nothing else this dangerous adventure was allowing him to see pieces of the world he'd never known about before, he'd never imagined the city was truly this gigantic. How did ponies ever build all this? Just one of the old skyscrapers as he'd been told they were once called felt like it stood over and above their entire race, something they didn't deserve to be able to create.

Their very name felt like a sense of pride was attached to them. With all their greatness they'd still let the world be destroyed. As he pondered these things an odd feeling of want pushed up inside. It was hard to tell what it was for. Just a little feeling inside saying something was missing. Something good. Something far better than the world was able to give since that nearly forgotten time when ponies came together to craft these great works, something in which they once could take pride for accomplishing. That pride was long ago stripped from them all. There was none to be taken after failing to protect themselves and their legacy like that.

The world was and had been falling apart piece by piece ever since that failure. Whatever was happening right now could possibly just be another step in that. Was the inevitable end simply approaching? There was no way to be certain of anything right now. The only thoughts and feelings consisting of loneliness and a burning need for answers. Something creeping and hidden was definitely spreading at least around here, fanning out dangerously. So far it was incomprehensible. What if there were no answers to be found, no way out? A bad thought. It was enough to worry about simply heading towards the goal for the time being. It would take days more at this pace.

He should have been out of here already.

"What is that disgusting smell?" There it was again. Something sickening, nauseating. Still very far away but definitely a hint of it once in a while. What could it be? It was not at all familiar. It was getting worse as he headed north. With no other direction to go for now, he would have to approach the source with great care. Another mystery on top of everything else was the last thing he needed right now. The exact direction it was coming from seemed to be more towards the northeast. Perhaps it could be entirely avoided.

After crossing something which might have been a shallow riverbed once he'd found himself following the general path of a roadway apparently called 'Plain White Palomino Road' according to a smashed and almost unreadable sign uncovered by accident as he practically tripped over it buried in the dirt. This didn't really tell him anything. Occasionally glancing at the badge to be sure it was safe to continue he noticed it was a little worse for wear. Fortunately it was not damaged in the fights he'd so far been unable to avoid. Protecting it could be of paramount importance if he was to find his way through such unfamiliar territory. Radiation did exist, that much he was well aware of.

Whatever caused it and why was also something beyond his understanding. It just was. A fact of existing. Most of those who still struggled to live were at least dimly aware of it. They knew as little about it as he did. It was just another leftover from a war that should never have been allowed to conclude as it did. A grim reminder that sometimes curiosity is not rewarded. They must have been ever so proud of what they achieved before it all came crashing down. Were the weird things happening here just more of this? A product of the same foalish thought that the world could be taken for granted? The smell was more lingering here. Heavy. Disturbing. Something rotten and vile. This felt wrong.

The smell just couldn't be identified. The further north and more he traveled amidst the slowly decaying and collapsing ruins the more sadness rose within. All that power and they'd chosen to let it all be destroyed, what nonsense could possibly have driven its way into ponies hearts so deeply that could have lead to the ruination of everything everywhere? He could have been proud of this city too. Wasn't it his right, his inheritance as much as it was theirs? Instead, wandering about what must surely have once been grand and beautiful was now nothing more than a scenic view of what might have been. How much more could they have accomplished if it wasn't all toppled?

Even the earth ponies were allowed to touch and nearly live in the very sky once long ago. A few wobbly and aging buildings here and there were all that could be claimed. There was no one with the knowledge to do so. As they got older and older they would all eventually succumb and fall to the ground to join the rubble already laying there. These empty shells once held life. They'd come only to symbolize death and failure. In far more ways than he would ever realize they were the very epitome of vice and avarice of a sort he'd never imagined. They may have been built with pride, but they were built with the intention to line some ponies coffers with untold wealth.

Wealth which was useless to them now, they were dead and gone. Little more than a vague memory passed down in recognition that somepony, somewhere, did something very bad once. Something so bad it left only a crushed and ever more pitiful world to its inheritors. He'd always known there were only ruins left, but he'd never had to face the fact by himself before. He'd always had the support necessary to deal with living here in a life with almost nothing to be happy about. He'd also never thought about it at length. What would life be like if this gleaming city still stood strong as it clearly once did? A truly happy place? The thought made him feel shuddery deep within.

Something so appealing, but it could never be. All that was left for him was pain.

"Do I not deserve happiness? Did I do something wrong? What am I saying... Nothing good is listening." Something good? What could possibly be good anymore? He shook his head. These thoughts were not going to help anything. The days when ponies held sway over the very land itself were long since gone. It was past. Right now he needed to keep focus on the immediate problems facing him. Letting his thoughts drift off of remaining out of sight could prove his undoing. In this area a few times he'd been forced to backtrack and find another way forward, going far around due to the badge slightly changing hue, warning against treading into an invisible danger. Dying in such a way would be deplorable.

It was slow and tedious, but at least it was something which operated on some kind of logic. If it were not such a deadly proposition it would almost be an amusing game to determine a safe route. At least tedium felt normal. A dose of something common. Having been driven so far towards the northeast he was hoping to finally find an easier path towards the west proper. This was not proving to be so accessible here. Not only the land, but derelict ruins in piles made crossing some areas difficult if not impossible. Taken all together some parts of the city were twisted into a huge heaping maze by whatever power leveled a good half of it or more so many years ago.

How anything remained standing at all was its own mystery. Most things took at least some damage from whatever slammed into the city. How any of them remained standing was something he could not even imagine a guess at. If something was powerful enough to reduce a city of this size to mere chunks of itself how did anything survive? That scent was heavy around here. It would occasionally assault his nostrils. It almost burned when it was noticed. Pungent and wrong in yet another way he could not fathom. This was taking forever.

"Every time I try to find a way through here this thing says its not safe. This is bad. What is radiation, magical or otherwise anyway? Where does it come from? Oh. Now I'm gonna have to go even further north first." Grunting at a slight twinge of pain from his shoulder he decided to just accept it. It was just something else he would have to deal with. Knowing ponies died or sometimes even worse things happened to them when they encountered this stuff and ignored it or were taken unaware. Sometimes it was the lure of hidden riches just out of reach, food or other commodities tricked some into trying and it never ended well for any of them. Those who did not know about it were simply unlucky.

Either way he was not about to join their sad fate by choice. Until now he'd been lucky about avoiding radiation. None of it was encountered during the whole trip so far, but then he'd started out on a known route and mostly kept to directions he'd been aware of before being forced to abandon going that way. Just more frustration and testing of patience added into an already mounting pile of the same.

"He always said someday he would take me to some kind of big caravan trading post to the south or something. I wish we'd got to go together. I wish you were here." It would have been nice. A trip with the only pony he'd cared about.

Something to share.

"I would have liked that." Swallowing hard he stepped northwards once more. The radiation spots in this area were numerous. Large. Avoiding them was taking up even more time. Almost the whole day passed by the time another building was located. He could not stop outside. He'd apparently reached a section of crossroad where a path once titled 'Oilville Avenue' Stood. An utterly dilapidated small building with a tilted sign reading 'Hard Buck Cafe Outlet' was off to the right of it. Something about that title seemed like it could be taken in several ways, but he wasn't up to thinking about it too much.

One side of the building was just in good enough condition he could consider sleeping within. There was a line of stools with what would once have been nice looking padded seats. Each was shaped so that a pony could comfortably sit at a circular bar. Almost everything inside otherwise was completely wrecked. The badge did not change color. It was as safe a spot as he could find at present. It would have to do for the night. Another couple days and it would already have been two weeks since this madness started.

"Has it really been so long already? How does time have the cruelty to go on when it should stop?" Sighing very heavily he slipped the packs off. His shoulder would be aching for days. He'd also been careful not to let the wrapping heal into the cut. He tore it off and discarded it. There was no point continuing to wear it now, the cut itself was healing properly. The ache would remain for some time. It was the only blow he'd taken that was not entirely glancing. If he'd taken multiple hits like that even surviving the fight could have proven futile. He was still concerned about getting an infection. He'd been warned repeatedly how dangerous that could be.

Although the things weapons were rusty and covered in who knows what, the razor lines were clean looking. Probably to help prevent them being seen. A truly direct hit from even one of those things might have spelled his end in itself. Real medicine was a rare and expensive thing. The one healing potion he still held might have helped in that case, but he didn't know how it really worked. Would it stop an infection, poison? These were things he was not told. Probably because his master did not really know either. That sort of knowledge was itself a rare thing. He was told not to use the healing potion for broken bones, but not why. It was the sort of thing that sounded like it might once have been well known.

A faded threadbare portrait hung askew from a wire along the back wall. There were probably more, but they'd fallen and pretty much been disintegrated by the falling walls. The bottom of the frame still contained an etched tag reading 'Stud Muffin: Prize Winning Stallion'. Staring at the tag for a moment he could only imagine what that was supposed to mean. What this place was or what it was used for escaped understanding. This side was still sturdy enough to afford what might be assumed was a safe place to rest. Assumptions in recent memory were not a good idea. To be sure the now very bedraggled and pained pony sought to cover any way to see in. It was a very long day.

Boredom was not something he should be feeling. Perhaps it was something else. A desire for some kind of normalcy maybe. Whilst shifting a table to use as a block against a window opening he caught sight of a very odd looking little bottle. What could it be? Heaving the table out of the way revealed a metal canister with a spiral tube sticking out of it. There were two large shattered glass containers and what looked like it was a spout of some kind at one time. The bottle was tall and full of some of the clearest looking liquid he'd ever seen. Was it water? Twisting off the cap proved to be more difficult than expected. It was sealed extremely well.

The heavy table must have protected the bottle against other falling debris all those years ago. So far out of sight even if a pony had been right on top of it they would never have seen it without moving all the junk first as he was doing, and likely would never have done so. No wonder it was still here. What could be within? Grunting around the cap in his mouth and pulling hard was not working.

"Come on, you" Mumbling over it as he strained and yanked hard it finally gave way so unexpectedly it almost went slipping out of his hooves and flying off as he almost fell over.

"Whoa. Whoa. Don't do that now. Whew. Now, what is in here?" Managing to hang onto it was just lucky. Sniffing at it questioningly it did not have much of a scent. Checking his badge up against it did not change color. It was at least not giving out radiation. It should be safe to taste. Wrapping his lips around the bottle to take a little sip he tilted it back cautiously. If there slightest hint of it being bad or like it might be dangerous he would stop and spit it out. Holding it in his mouth the flavor was sweet, smoky and almost earthy, but in some pleasant way he'd never tasted before. It was good. Swallowing it was not as much fun. It was rough and felt like it burned on the way down. It didn't really hurt though.

He then felt like a warmth was spreading within. What was this stuff?

"Oh! What is this? It makes me feel so warm inside. I think I like you." Unable to help himself he took another sip. It still burned each time, but it was not an unpleasant sensation for him. After finishing up covering any possible way for something to see within here he found some of the cushioning from the seats was still in good condition. It detached from them easily. There were so many stools it was actually possible to fashion a little bed out of them. Not the most comfortable thing ever, but it was nicer than the way he'd been spending his nights so far.

Once in a while taking another sip from the bottle. Many hours later without realizing it almost the entire bottle was nearly drained. It was just so warm. Giggling and rolling about, waggling his legs was for some reason the most hilarious thing he'd ever seen. He felt so loose and giddy. He was being so silly. Something only a foal might do. Even his shoulder stopped hurting. How nice.

"Lookhh..looksth at thot..I haaavee hooooves! Whee." Rolling over towards the bottle and tipping it up fully it was now completely emptied. Where did it all go? So tasty.

"Awrrt thush goody. Githt me your secresst." The last drops of the lovely drink went down. It was so good. Shaking it and finding no more left him mumbling. He was really in no condition to realize much of anything. Trying to stand up he sort of wobbled and fell against what was left of the bar. That hurt. Bad thing. How dare it?

"Whust gring. ? Huip we cin drpim. Why you, take thisth!" With that he started jabbing at the solid bar.

"Oww! I gawn getchya." All wobbly and really angry feeling the world went red and hazy. A short while later he was asleep. His snores were very deep. His head ached so very much when he finally woke up.

His eyes fluttered open to see the ever gray skies above.

"Aaaaah... What..happened? Ohh my head. Everything's so fuzzy. Wait a minute, where am I?" As he looked around the extremely shocking realization that he was outside struck. Wait. No, not outside, but the entire building was completely flattened around him. This was impossible. He wasn't outside. The building was just gone. There wasn't even really a ruin left.

"What? How? Why do my legs and my hooves hurt so much? Actually, everything hurts." He thought the ache in his shoulder was bad before.

Right now everything ached everywhere just as badly. What could have happened? It looked like an explosion went off.

"I don't remember." Huffing and achy he practically dragged himself along the ground to his packs. Even the floor was gone. Luckily they were fine. He was so thirsty. Downing an entire bottle almost at once seemed to help his head a little. Drinking stirred a slight memory of the unusual bottle and its contents. Why were the packs the only things still alright? The building was utterly demolished completely.

"Where did the building go? Where did everything go?" Only little bits and pieces of it were strewn around him a great distance. How could it be? There was still some warm feeling inside.

"Now I remember. I found a bottle and...everything went dark." Gently rubbing his pounding head he finally found enough will to stand up. The effort almost resulted in smashing his face straight into the ground. So unsteady.

"Slowly. Slowly. I need to get moving." Whatever happened here would just be another odd mystery.

"At least it tasted good. I feel slow." A very odd feeling for him. He'd been lucky he wasn't killed while he was so out of it. Very lucky. Moving steadily northwards at a much slower pace than he was used to and nursing his aching head and body was certainly like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

An occasional feeling of being off balance and unsteady was quite disconcerting for one so generally in control of themself. He was still able to see the far off glow of the incredibly massive wall of flames. In the distance it still burned as high and brightly as before. Did it never end or go out? What was feeding it? Fire needed fuel to burn, but it seemed to consume none.

"It can't extend all the way around the whole of the region, can it?" As impossible a thing as it was in itself, that seemed much more so. At least there didn't seem to be any radiation barring the way in this direction.

Occasional buildings dotted the landscape as they always did. How any of them survived or ever held up this long was a true testament to the skill of their builders. The terrible headache and general achiness subsided as he traveled, only leaving that dull pain in his shoulder. It almost felt worse than before. Did he exert himself in some way he couldn't remember at all? That idea didn't feel very good at all. Blanking out was a terrifying prospect. Worse than sleep. What if he did something which would never be considered while awake? It could be dangerous. Never having heard of such a condition made for nervous moments. It never happened before.

Although his muscles did still ache, they almost felt somehow looser than before, more relaxed. It was an exceedingly strange feeling. He'd been getting that a lot lately. Strange, unknown feelings and thoughts never even the slightest bit considered before or heeded. A piece of remaining road junction and another tilted signpost indicated he was crossing something once oddly titled 'Everybody Run Hill'. Everybody run? Some of the streets and roads of old were given odd names. Why were they even named anyway? Did the ponies think they were alive or something? They weren't, were they? That thought left him shivery.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course they're not alive. Right? That is just silly, what am I thinking?" It was likely just wild imagination getting away from him. Still, the idea persisted. Thinking the very ground might somehow come to life was an embarrassing thing to feel afraid of even for a moment. It was nonsense. This entire trip made no sense though. Perhaps nothing could be ruled out now? Even his own dreams seemed intent on causing further pain. Everything was so unfair. No. He would not start slipping into thinking that way. Perhaps it was unfair, but life never truly had been. What was really so different now? Other than being entirely on his own and perhaps the only one left.

At last able to start heading northwest again was a better feeling, but there was that vague hint of a disgusting scent again. Every time it was noticed his stomach turned, almost resulting in choking. Where was it coming from? It was definitely something to avoid approaching if at all possible. Considering how things were going thus far it was a good bet something very dangerous was likely wherever it was. Sometimes the direction he thought it was coming from changed. It was difficult to pin down an exact direction. Coming and going with greater frequency than in past days. Not another pony was to be found.

The only living thing even remotely pony-like he'd even seen on his entire trip was the poor mare he'd been forced to deprive of her life. That one still hurt badly and weighed heavily on his thoughts. Stopping some murderers was one thing, killing a pony that didn't seem entirely in control of their own actions was another. She really hadn't seemed like she wanted to attack him. Life once almost comfortable for him had been turned upside down and left nothing but nonsense in its wake. That dark creature and its flickering blades was something that could not be pushed out of mind easily either. It too almost seemed like it hadn't wanted to fight. A large chunk of spiked iron fence came into view.

Behind it were stones with names engraved in them. His master told him there was such a place around here. A cemetary. Once a place to put the dead. A respectful place. How had he known all these things? He'd never revealed who taught him anything. The cemetery was not used anymore. Why bother dragging a body all the way here when you could just take whatever they might have had and leave them where they lay? Respect for anything wasn't really on offer in this life. One was lucky if they were even buried after the fact or given the slightest bit of remembrance. He'd traveled so far in the past two weeks. How much longer was it going to take before finding somepony?

Having come so far southwest before being forced to turn back and then be forced this far north had taken an excessive amount of time. The food and water was dwindling. He'd carried all that was possible to stuff into the old packs, but that would not last forever. He'd never expected to see the graveyard. Looking upon the toppled stones within and an odd little stone building lead to building apprehension. A feeling that was trusted now. Pieces of the iron fence still stood here and there. Some fallen, some at odd angles. Surprising anything still stood really. Lining the tops of the fence pieces were sharp-looking bulb-like affairs. Just how big was the true size of Manehattan?

If only this one part of it was this big then the scale was beyond his ability to comprehend. Of course parts of it were now clearly inaccessible and reduced this size somewhat. It was still an area beyond the scope of anything he'd ever imagined before. There was enough scattered things to scavenge where they'd lived to possibly last an entire lifetime. There must be a way around or through the huge fire wall somewhere, there just had to be, didn't there? The further traveled the less likely it appeared there actually was. This trip was taking much too long. What should have taken maybe a couple of days at most already consumed an entire week. Was there any way out of here? It would be easy to go home.

Hide for a really long time. What if there really was no way into southern Manehattan proper? Would the apparently endless wall of fire die out if he just waited? There was still food and water there. It might have to be considered at some point. It would mean going all the way back. Maybe it could just be waited out. Maybe it could not. Would it have been safe to remain at home? Would it be safe now? There was no way to know. It was probably better to be away from there. At least being on the move it seemed less likely for him to be discovered. A few odd encounters didn't change that fact. The lack of answers about what to do was concerning. He was still alive. He was, wasn't he?

What if he'd actually died somewhere along the line and this was all that awaited him? Could it be? Did death already take him? Surely things would be quite different if that was the case? Death should be much different.

"No, I think that would be a little more obvious. I can't be dead. I wouldn't be in this much pain would I? I still bleed and hurt. Also, I suppose I wouldn't be alone then... right?" Muttering was becoming quite common. Anything might be better than this bitter wandering through a lonely landscape with nopony else in it so filled with anger and sadness. The sheer emptiness of it all was bearing down. Surely if he was dead things would not be like this? It was never considered before.

Did a fine reunion await then? Did anything await for then other than the same blankness of sleep? It would be a little late to start worrying about it now. There would be no point. He would find out when it finally happened anyway. Not yet. Maybe soon, but not yet. Boss first. Whatever it might take. However long. The cemetary ahead held an off feeling all its own. It was chalked up to being so weary of wandering and so many other things. This was once a place of respect and reflection on lives past. Now, it served little purpose. Perhaps not a single grave was added to this place since the war ended. Not many would even bother. Life held so little meaning to so few these days.

To warrant the effort of being buried meant somepony actually respected you enough to do so before moving on. That respect was nearly nonexistent amongst those just scrounging out the meagerest of livings. It would take effort and energy ill affordable to most. Very sparse vegetation still managed to grow here. Nothing edible. Plant life was as scarce as anything else. It was indeed some kind of life. How it clung on in the misery a question for another time. He'd found a lonely patch of grass once. It was growing in a secluded spot where no one ever went. It was stunted and brown looking, but the little patch was tough and held onto life. He showed it and his master said to bite off some of it.

A little confused he bit into it. It was bitter and odd tasting, old, and yet it was still somehow so good it left sad feelings when it was gone. The most amazing thing he'd ever tried. It stirred some feeling of longing not understood. The rest was left. He'd even started taking it a little bit of water now and then. The patch deserved it for the wonderful treat it had given. Over time it looked the slightest bit greener. A sign of appreciation perhaps. Was it still there, waiting for another drink he may never be able to bring it again? It survived without assistance before. It would probably continue to do so without him. Just a tiny thing, but it meant so much. A good memory. One of few granted here.

It was difficult to recall good moments when on all sides one is surrounded by pain and the unknown. A truly good memory. If only there were more. Something wasn't right here. This feeling was far too common now. A feeling that was starting to be trusted implicitly. As usual nothing wrong was readily apparent to the eyes or other senses. Just that same feeling of wrongness that had been enclosing around him ever since stepping out of the courtyard what already felt like an entire lifetime ago. It seemed that was a wholly different world. A world so far removed from the now it could almost have been a dream in itself. Was it ever really like that before?

Was there anything good in this life now full of nothing but misery? There had to have been, didn't there? It never used to hurt like this. Yes, it did hurt, but not like this. It was never entirely unbearable before. Pain was known as it is to all who live in the wastes. Did any know it like this? This pain was a miserable unending facade of life. When would it be over at last? What if it was just starting? It was already far too much. If it could in some way become worse than it already was then there really would be no hope. All that was left to drive forward was a burning desire for the truth and a good dream. Anything less and giving up would have been easy. The fastest route to a quick death is to give in.

Giving up invites it to step forth and swallow one whole. So easy. It would be so easy to just quit. It wasn't enough. Not yet. The desire to know was its own flame inside. Sure it hadn't been easy in any way, but he was still breathing, still alive. Somewhere out there the answers must lay waiting. They just had to be. Everything happens for some reason no matter how big or small. If the reason for initiating this journey turned out to be little more than the simple whim of a crazed sick pony then so be it. It would still be the truth. It might be something far larger. The insanity apparently encompassing the whole north of the city must have something behind it. There is always some reason. It may not make sense.

The cemetery was quite large and wide, bypassing it would take a long time. Going straight through would be much shorter. That feeling of wrong said leave it be. Stay away, go around. Sick of being deterred by random things he decided to try and slip through anyway. Far off on the opposite side etched into the strange stone building was the statement 'Woodhorse Cemetery' in large relief lettering. The name was a little odd in itself. Oh well. Staying out of sight was something he was very good at despite earlier mistakes. Hopefully it would be enough to avoid trouble here. There were many grave markers of all sorts and styles. Many were toppled, shattered. Most were unreadable.

Only a barely legible portion of a name here or there to give any remembrance to those whose rest here was surely an uneasy one anymore. Ponies seemed to have been given entirely too happy sounding names a long time ago. Too upbeat. Too hopeful. Too proud. Did they all take an easy life for granted? Judging by all they built they must all have been living in the lap of luxury, right? It couldn't be known. Perhaps they'd known pain and sorrow too, if only of a different sort. It was probably dangerous to ignore this warning to turn away. Nothing ever appeared life-threatening at first. If it did he would be having a much easier time of it lately. Instead, dying was assumed to be the eventual outcome of it all.

Was that really the only end there could be? Reaching Boss might mean dying for sure.

"Just let me survive long enough to find out why Boss did it at least, please?" A halfhearted whispered prayer to something, anything that might be listening. There was probably nothing. What good could possibly be left? If there really was anything, it was not here. Not in this darkness and silence. Only pain and death seemed to be calling here anymore. Unwanted and unwelcome visitors to be sure. What dread thing might be standing in the way now? Something as dark and sinister as before? Worse? What could be worse than that? Best not to think about it, don't invite trouble.

Just put one hoof in front of the other. Perhaps they could hide in shadows, but so could he. He was no stranger to slipping between shadows. Whatever was about here though might actually be a shadow itself. There was no cowardice in using stealth if it meant nothing less than living to see another day, such as those days were. Avoiding an unnecessary fight was always the right choice. Nothing encountered during this trip so far at all seemed natural anyway. Strange unearthly opponents were not something he'd ever imagined fighting against. For the most part he'd never really wanted for anything.

Having the provider of that almost okay existence taken away so unfairly hurt incredibly much and likely always would. All of this other stuff really meant little unless it related in some way to that. None of it readily seemed to be relatable to each other. Was every terrible thing experienced so far really just some random string of terrible luck? Was luck a real thing? Did it have some bearing on the miserable things now happening in his life?

"If that's all it has been then I am probably the most unlucky pony in the whole world." Thoughts like this weren't helping anything, but it was hard not to think them. It could not be known if this was true.

Was there somepony else somewhere having even worse luck? If there was he would truly feel sorry for them. With luck any worse than this by even just the slightest amount would have meant dying already. That feeling was rapidly intensifying. Oh great. Now what? He'd not even stepped hoof in the cemetery yet and something was coming.

"Here we go again." Gritting his teeth and sliding off the packs and badge in preparation for whatever was coming. Might as well be ready this time. There was clearly going to be trouble soon. How did it know he was here? It stepped out from the stone building.

"I have you." How? Almost the same grating angering voice. It was the same thing as before. No, wait. It isn't. It looked the same, but those terrifying eyes colors were reversed. All sickly yellow with red piercing dots in the centers, moving just as disgustingly as the previous one to-and-fro. This one looked like a unicorn whose color was emptied out from it leaving only a dark shade of itself, an empty shadow of nothing but the deepest grey hues across all its being. What could these things possibly be? This was going to get bad. As striking and terrible as this visage were the deep blood colored weapons attached to its hooves, horn, and tail, drawing even more attention. Things which looked like axe blades adorned each.

Was that actual blood or just color? It contrasted to this shadowed thing so much it looked out of place even more. The one attached to the horn was just a simple straight on heavy curved axe blade, the others were affairs which would clearly make it difficult to get anywhere close enough to strike without risking a fatal cut. The edges faced outwards only to the sides and slightly forward. If this thing was able to move at any great rate it was going to be a serious issue. Here it comes. Closer and closer. Why were these things here? What could possibly have called up such terrors? Would there be an answer?

"Who are you? What do you want?" It wasn't going to answer, but might as well ask anyway. Surprisingly there was actually a slight response given in that horrendous voice. So angering. No, stay calm. No matter what. That effect must be on purpose somehow.

"I am Aissenfelle, and you are meat." If anything the voice was even worse, more grating. Was that all it would say? Meat? That didn't sound good. Were these things cannibals as well? How could anything this horrible exist? The entire time spent speaking it was taking those same strangely deliberate steps forward as the last one.

Trying to avoid a fight here was likely impossible now. They always seemed to know where he was no matter how careful. Aissenfelle? At least this proved they had names. Names as strange as they were. Not very useful information. All those blades looked supremely sharp. This was a very much different opponent to the last one. Almost unnoticed there was some sharp looking object attached to the very end of its tail. A pointed silvery hook connected to something resembling an upturned cup. Whatever these things were they all appeared to use odd weapons. They looked like ponies, but they really couldn't be. Did it just get a lot darker all of a sudden? That couldn't be, could it?

There was no way to readily size up an opponent using weapons and techniques never imagined or seen before. The thing steadily approaching was just as difficult to look at as the last. Its motions, movements all presenting some sickening wrongness that just should not be. It moved like a pony, but nothing about it looked right at all. If it was as skilled as the previous this was going to be a serious problem. He'd been taught it best to always overestimate an opponent rather than the opposite. Overwhelm before you are. Get in fast and take them out before they can gauge you. Would that work here? Maybe not. Could these things even be overestimated? This disgusting thing was going to try and kill him anyway.

It might be a mistake to make the first move here. Who knows how it might use all those nasty-looking blades? They seemed to glow red ever so slightly in the dim light. Could they be magical? Be ready for anything. Positioning to take some advantage offered by the many destroyed grave markers was the only thought coming to mind right now. They might at least offer some defense against this inexplicable horror somehow walking amongst the living. What summoned these nightmarish things forth into the realm of the waking world? Surely no one would have done so on purpose? Why would they? These apparitions belonged more to unrecalled dreams. Why are they here?

What purpose could they possibly serve in bringing only death with them? This was wrong.

"I know you are not going to listen, but I have to say it anyway. I do not want to fight you." It was a necessary statement, of course it wasn't going to make a difference, but if unsaid it would be against himself. As expected there was no outward response to this. Did these things even think? Did they operate on some set of principles as yet unknown? Were they following some system, orders? Did they even have feelings? Was it possible they acted solely on instinct? At any rate they never gave anything useful away. Standing behind one of the markers would hopefully force it to come around.

Instead it lowered its head and charged straight at it. Was it crazy? Jumping aside as it crashed into the marker the blade went straight through the stone sending chunks flying everywhere. Those axes must be special in some not understood way. It cleaved through it almost like it wasn't even there. The ponylike thing wasn't even moving that fast when it struck. Must not be hit by those directly, even risking a glancing blow could be devastating. It was clearly holding back and certainly much faster than this. Why would it do that? It turned about on only its rear hooves quickly and aimed for him again. This made its turn very rapid to land pointed right at him. A simple straight charge ahead again.

It was easy enough to leap aside. Was it playing with him? Just giving some false sense of hope where there was none? Could it really be that cruel? The only thing to do for now was observe its actions and try to come up with some plan of attack. Every technique has some weakness, some flaw no matter how well hidden. There must be more to it than this, some strategy he might already be falling for. Charging straight on once again as he moved behind another stone, at least hitting them slowed it down ever so slightly. Not that this was helping all that much. Did it never try anything else? This was quite odd. So strange. Straight on again. This couldn't possibly be this easy, could it?

There was no way this thing intended to just keep charging straight towards him when it would never be able to connect. Was it doing something else? Keeping his attention on it while maneuvering into some kind of trap? Whatever it was doing must have some hidden purpose. This was simply too easy. This thing did seem to be possessed of endless stamina. If that was the case it really could just run him down eventually. Would it have the patience for such a thing? It would be a ridiculously simple strategy if so. Just keep charging until he was exhausted and it was not. It could not be allowed to lead into a trap. Something must be done before that happened. Risking a frontal attack was too dangerous.

At its next charge there would be just an instant where it might be vulnerable to a quick jab against an exposed side. Here it comes again. The same measured straight on run towards. Moving just slightly aside as it was about to hit, the speedy pony bashed a hoof into its side to roll away just as those wicked blades sliced through the air past his flank. The jab drew a faint growl. It was faster than imagined. A slower pony would surely have been cut in two. Now it would be on guard against that sort of thing. Better think of something else fast. So it did feel pain of a sort. Not much. Something about that jab felt off somehow. What was it? The hit was solid if quick. It was not something verifiable.

The same move just wasn't going to work here. Again. It was charging straight on again to force more dodging. If anything this was becoming truly annoying. This couldn't possibly be its plan. Did it intend to just annoy him so much he made a mistake? At this rate it might actually be a good plan on its part. No, it must have a reason behind it. What this reason was however was eluding at present. It was oddly silent as it charged. Where did it get all this strength? Shattered stone markers were positively littering what was left of the old cemetery by now. Over and over, the same move. It must know more. It was too skilled not to. As odd as it was, it was not wasting any energy.

None of these head-on attacks were pointless. Each could easily have killed with the slightest wrong move to avoid them. Those eyes always darting about apparently randomly as if unfocused were not helping. In themselves they were almost causing nausea. Its vision was obviously perfectly fine. Risk would have to be taken. This time at its charge the quick pony charged ahead himself to slide under at the last second and smash and pummel the thing in what would probably be its stomach and roll wide out of the way just as it went to stomp down with those terrible blades. Too close again. This was problematic. Nothing was inflicting much real injury on this thing. If anything it looked amused he was still alive.

Was it actually enjoying this? It was hard to tell. Those gigantic eyes certainly betrayed nothing. They rolled about in its head disturbingly constantly. Every single facet of these things was disgusting from appearance to motion. So vile. They just should not be. The pummeling did slow it down almost imperceptibly. Was it hurting? If it was that was not really apparent either. Those were solid blows as well, they also felt just as weird and off as before. Why was something about that so odd? They connected, that is all that mattered. It must feel something in some way, any way. Would it do the same thing yet again? Nothing would work twice on this thing. That much was obvious from the start.

Who or what taught these things to fight and wield such unusual weapons? If there was some strategy to this things constant charging it was alien enough not to be understood. There would be no answers here. Only a painful death if he couldn't figure it out soon. Aissenfelle as it called itself seemed to harbor no care for itself or anything else. Practically a mindless beast in a way it would seem. Its very name set some feeling of unease off. Could it ever really have been a pony, changed in some way? So far removed in form from them it did not seem possible. It might appear crazed from the outside. It did think in some manner. Always with those deliberate exaggerated steps even when it ran.

It was not displaying its full speed. During this entire dust-up it hadn't once pushed for that. It definitely could. How long was this going on? So far it was relying entirely on its weapons to do all of the work. Insofar as that was a conscious choice it was effective. There must be a way to take it out. If this kept up his own speed would become less and less effective until easily run over by this relentless slicing destruction. There was always that one move. No. That was an even more desperate move than the one based on sheer speed. A move that should never find use unless all hope was lost. Using it would be even more tiring than that. A condition that should be avoided at all costs right now.

If it failed, death would be the only outcome. There was so little time to think between each calculated charge. A way to hit this thing more often would be quite useful. So far very few opportunities to even do so were presented. This thing charging about like this presented as much of a defense as an offense. Was that its game? Being equally protected while attacking was certainly a good strategy. The blades must be made out of some very light material, but if they were that light why didn't they break when slicing through solid stone? Did that have something to do with the odd sensation when landing a blow?

He'd considered trying to grapple with this thing up close to prevent it using its hooves, but that was too dangerous. Every bit of this thing was protected by sharp edges. Where was this things weakness? It must have one somewhere. Perhaps it would be wise to focus on trying to take its weapons out of play somehow. He'd observed them enough by now. The arc within which it could swing each, their range, how fast they could be manipulated. There were very few openings. It was going to take every bit of speed and strength to finish this before running out. This fight was already going to leave him exhausted afterwards. It was time to take the fight to it. It must think in very two-dimensional terms.

Skilled though it was this constant sameness was leading to it taking identical actions over and over. It was not stupid by any means, merely unimaginative in the application of the great force it wielded. This could mean the slightest opportunity may arise to force an error on its part. It might very well be thinking the same about him. He'd been dodging and little else for some time now. Perfect. It did not appear aware of the trap it was being lead into. With each charge it was getting closer to the large stone building. So far this battle had been waged across a good half of the cemetary. It may imagine him to be inferior. Insignificant. It did call him meat.

If it held no respect beyond that, it may also think him less of a threat than in reality. Just keep playing the part of prey. Closer. Closer. Right in front of the stone building now. The inevitable charge. It might not care what was in front of it, but it would be a mistake this time. Leaping aside it smashed into the building as expected. Hurry now. Before it could extricate itself from against the wall he jolted behind and started a wild flurry of bucking against its hindquarters, smashing it further into the wall. Don't give it a chance. The blades which cut so readily and deeply were still half-embedded in the remains of the wall and being dug even further in as it was being drilled into it.

Chunks of the wall were falling on the things head as it struggled to pull back. 5, 15, 28, 35 kicks. What was it going to take before it stopped struggling? Again and again. It wheezed and lay still in the rubble. 64 hits. 64 to break this thing, to shatter its spine.

"Ohh. I can't..." Vision going blurry he blacked out for a moment. Awaking with a start on his side and seeing the thing sinking into the ground out of sight as the last one did was not all that great of a feeling. This was no victory. It was just a vicious battle against an unknown. Its weapons sank out of sight along with it. Not quite what was envisioned.

He'd wanted to trap it in the wall, disarm it, make it talk. So much for that idea. It was too strong to hold. There was no choice but to kill it. It actually was dead, wasn't it? There was naught to do but find a spot to rest. There was no way to walk on right now. Shuddering from adrenaline his body was all aquiver. His pounding heart in his ears was practically all that could be heard right now. It was gone. It was safe for at least a moment. Calm down. His heart did not want to stop pounding. Finally, it did. Almost blacking out a second time was not good. Snap out of it. It's dead. Gone. Get up. All he could do was shake.

"Again. I learned nothing again! Grr." Unable to even move left the poor pony laying there for a few moments. It was not wise to stay here. If nothing heard all that commotion it would be most surprising. Limbs feeling like rubber from all the exertion made it very difficult to stand up again. Finally to his hooves and sprinting across the cemetery to retrieve the packs as his mind raced, going over the fight. Everything would be aching for a good while after that. How much was it going to take to get out of here? Another unwanted fight. How many times was this going to happen? Were there no actual ponies left alive anywhere? That distant horrible smell was not so distant now. It wasn't here.

Somewhere close though, too close. It was like no scent he'd ever taken note of before. Cloying and ill, heavy, thick. It made the back of his neck bristle just to catch the faintest hint of it. Something to avoid at any cost. Get moving. Get away from here. Go. Go.

"So tired. Got to move. Nothing else around at least." Not yet anyway. Did these things have friends? Subordinates? They did not seem like the sort of thing that would. If they did then killing two of their number already might bring along more trouble. Nothing but darkness and mystery surrounding them. Encountering two was already more than enough.

This was not why he'd set out to begin with. They were nothing to do with the goal of confrontation. Living through another painful battle was just adding to the misery already being felt in his heart and mind. What did these things want? Did they even want anything at all? Two times now and all they seemed to desire was killing.

"These guys are murderous and violent, whatever they are. A murderer is a murderer, pony or not." After refitting the packs over his aching back he took to a light trot across the cemetery. Practically none of the markers survived the onslaught. It wasn't right. Faded as they were some still showed partial names in memory. Almost none were left standing.

It was disrespectful of that behemoth to do this.

"I apologize. I tried and could do no better, please forgive my weakness." A solemn request to any spirit that may yet linger here, hoping to be remembered. That would be impossible now. Certainly he could be forgiven for being unable to stop something so powerful in any other way? There was no shame in this. His opponent was truly powerful. This was unlike any fight he'd ever heard of. The strewn shattered stones now paid memory to nothing. So many of them lay broken that a chalk-like dust permeated the air in the immediate vicinity.

It went unnoticed before, but was causing little coughing fits now. Getting out of it helped a great deal. This did not feel like he'd succeeded at anything. If anything it felt more like failure. It was not a good feeling. Were there more of these terrible apparitions waiting in the dark somewhere?

"I just want to go..home..." Where was that now? The little ruin wasn't home anymore and would never be again. There really wasn't a home to go back to. It was just a place that held a few nice memories, but the warmth was gone from it. Many ponies in the wastes may never know such kindness as he'd been given.

If the pain now was the price to be paid, that was okay, it was well worth it. More misery surely lay ahead before this was over. Something inside tugged and said this was just the beginning. How much was it going to hurt before he'd paid his due? How much pain could he endure before giving out? His mind already wanted to just shut down. Not yet. Keep going.

"Let me get the answer I'm after. Just that much and you can take all you want from me. Deal?" Spoken aloud. What did it matter right now? If anything was coming it would be here by now. All that was entirely too noisy. If there were any ponies around to hear there was no way they would have ignored such a din.

Ignoring something like that would quickly get you killed in the wastes. It seemed he was bound to die regardless. Just getting his answer was literally the only idea still moving his hooves forward. The pace was slow once again. There must be a building around somewhere to hide himself away in and rest. It was still such a long way to go. According to a large long since fallen sign ahead was someplace called 'Lilcolt Park'. In what was once a cart lot a building with the titles 'Lilcolt Motel and Coffee Shop' still stood. Coffee? Motel? What were those? These words meant nothing to him. It was dilapidated as many buildings were anymore. It would have to serve. He was in no condition to keep traveling today.

A little counter greeted inside. A till still containing a few bits was toppled onto the floor. Nopony had been in here in a very long time. There were, however, some radroaches to dispatch before it would be safe to rest. One of the few things to survive the war they were wretched little things. A minor nuisance at best. An actual danger at most if found in very large numbers and best avoided wherever possible. Killing one tended to excite the others into a bit of a frenzy. Their bite was just hard enough to make a single one hurt. Many at once could actually pose a serious threat. There were only a few here. There must not be enough food of any sort around to sustain more.

What else they may feed on aside from flesh and each other was not a question he wanted answers to. The scurrying things presence was always unwelcome. It could not really be made safer inside the little building. A quick look throughout both floors did not reveal anything else useful. The few bits were a nice addition. Almost too tired to even move anymore the packs were set behind the counter. The building was located on a bit of a slope and the floors slanted over the years somewhat. He lay on his side out of sight. It wasn't comfortable. Nothing ever did seem like it was. If only his cot was here. Falling asleep like this lead to a dream about sleeping in it.

A dream in which he was more comfortable than he actually was proved to be quite interesting. The rest was well needed. Many hours passed. Some crashing noise brought wakeful awareness intruding into the pleasant dream. Something was outside. A loud voice? A regular pony voice! Could it be? There was somepony left after all?

"Ahh hah haaah. Smell ponneee inside!" What!? A rather large hoof smashed through the wall. What was this? Not good.

"I do good job. Take pony to pit!" Pit?

There was no time to move as another hoof smashed through what was left of the wall flinging him backwards against the counter so hard his head smacked off the top of it with such force the world went dark once more.

"Uhhh. What?" Something wasn't right. His head hurt very badly. As his eyes tried to open and adjust he nearly screamed. He must be dead. The world was upside down. No. Wait. Not the world. Just him. He was hanging a little too high over an impossibly huge deep pile of pony corpses in an impossibly large crater. Before the war they'd been excavating here for some reason. Digging deep. He did not know this.

His right hind leg was wrapped in a chain hanging down from an ancient crane, holding him aloft. He didn't know the name of the machine. Any other time it would have held interest. Right now he was noticing the dead ponies all looked like they'd been chewed on in various places. That smell. This was what it was coming from. This pile of rotting bits of flesh and fur. This could possibly be what was left of all the ponies in the north end of the city. What happened? No wonder he hadn't found any others during his wandering. They might very well all be dead. What could have done all this? The scent was horrifying, causing fits of gagging. Not just the scent, but the sight of it.

"Ponnee awake hahhaa?" A deep drawn out voice said. Trying to look around was difficult like this. It made him twirl in the chain and feel even more ill. Over there by the edge of this pit of bodies. A tremendously strong looking, huge deformed and unshapely pony stood there. It was more a big lumpy walking egg on pony legs than an actual pony. One eye was tiny and indented in. Its muzzle angled disturbingly to the side. The other eye was enormous. It was a sickly white color. No fur adorned it. Only the slightest line of a mane down its back. It appeared to have no tail. What twisted creature was this now? It was not like the other things. It did look like a pony as misshapen as it was.

It spoke loudly and deep, almost rumbling when it talked. It sounded slow, sluggish. This could not be good.

"Who are you?" He called down to this sickly looking thing. It was almost twice his size. So very bad.

"Me am The Butcher. Who you?" That loud and deep rumble called back. The Butcher? That didn't sound good. Was it really asking who he was? What is going on here? This thing looked so bizarre. So disproportioned. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than he thought?

"I'm...Bolt. What do you want?" It couldn't hurt to answer that now.

"Ais..I iss..sizzzelenn.. Uhh Dark ponnnee late. Get lonely. Find funny pony. Not be lonely!" It sounded entirely too happy about this.

"How old are you?" Keep it talking for now. Ask it anything. It felt like he'd been dragged on his back a good distance before being hung up and left swinging. Was it talking about Aissenfelle? It really appeared quite old.

"Me two...two hundred days old!" Days? It looked ancient. Did he mean to say he was two hundred years old? Could it be? It can't. Was it possible? Could this twisted thing really be a pony from back then? No way.

This was certainly not how he'd imagined one of them.

"What happened to these ponies?" Bolt pointed an accusing hoof at the pile of bodies. Being upside down like this was making so much blood rush to his head it was hurting even worse and making it hard to think. That knock to the head was really bad.

"Stupid Ponies no help Butch. Hungry. Long time. No share food. Think, ponies eat food. Food inside ponies. Butch eat ponies, get food!" Oh no. It ate them? There did seem to be a subtle red stain across its disturbingly sloped muzzle.

Don't panic. Don't panic.

"Where did you come from?" Anything to keep it talking. Buy some time. It seemed happy enough to talk.

"Come from before. When stupid ponies make fun of Butch. Speak funny. Look funny. Call monster. Always..make fun of..." It looked sad? Before? Before what? Who would make fun of this thing? Could it have been more normal before whatever happened to it?

"Before what?" Must keep coming up with questions. Keep it amused. Figure a way out of this.

As they were talking he'd been trying to slip loose from the chain. It wasn't working so far. There must be a way to get out of this. He also didn't want to fall at a bad angle. It would be easy enough to break a leg or his neck at this height above the pile of bodies. Still choking and coughing occasionally wasn't helping.

"Before war come. War end. Stupid ponies die, but Butch no am stupid pony. Smart. Hide underneath. Not die. Get more bigger." It happily bantered away, smiling with yellowish fang-like teeth. What was it so darned happy about? Underneath? Underneath what? Get bigger? It was truly a behemoth now. How big was it before?

If that wasn't a lie it really was that old. By some twist of fate it lived this long.

"Why did you bring me here?" Right now this odd creature was quite content to talk. Hopefully it wouldn't get hungry anytime soon.

"Boss say eat. Throw stupid ponies in pit. The Butcher do good job. Boss say good job. Butcher happy. Butcher never happy before." Its responses were almost cheerful. Wait. Boss? Did it really say that?

"Boss! You know Boss!?" Did it? Why would it?

"Boss come. No make fun of Butch. Say name The Butcher. Give special job. Make feel important. Friend." It sounded so happy. Friend? Why? How could this be? This thing worked for Boss?

"Why would you work for Boss? What does he have to offer you?" Maybe he would get an answer about Boss of some kind finally?

"Ponies always laugh when see Butch. Hate laughing ponies! Butch make go away." Uh-oh. It was starting to sound angry now. Careful. It was still speaking.

"Boss say The Butcher do good job, give reward. No want reward. Like have job! Never have job before." Again it sounded happy. What was with this guy? The tallest building he'd ever seen was just over a ridge a little out of view. How far was he dragged? Hopefully the packs were still alright, safely hidden in their little spot behind the counter. The skyscraper lived up to the name. He'd known some were very tall, but this must reach 44 stories into the air or more. It was immense to him. A gigantic monument to pony folly. They really must have been prideful to build something like that. It was hard to think of the thing below as a pony. It was some kind of monster. It must be. It ate other ponies.

There was one thing he could do. Might be a bit risky.

"Do you want to know where Aissenfelle is?" Bolt asked of this oddly immense rounded lumpy pony thing.

"Him late. Where at?" So he did know that thing.

"In the cemetery. He's waiting there for you. He needs help." This really was a gamble. Something to make Butch go away for a while.

"Darkness ponnee need help? Butch him help!" It lumbered off, sort of almost hopping and bobbing along. How odd.

While it was off trying to find Aissenfelle it was time to get loose. As it galloped away he began swinging back and forth, having almost worked loose from the chain wrapped around his leg. Now it was just a matter of timing to land on the side of the pit without injury.

"One..two..three!" Twisting loose of it just as it hit the top of the arc sent him dropping hard against the edge, trying to scramble up and not slip into the deep hole so full of the poor souls devoured by this Butcher as it had taken to calling itself. Able to stand upright at last took a few moments to get used to.

The leg which was wrapped in chain was now totally numb. How long was he up there? It must have been a good long while. The cemetery couldn't be too far away from here. The packs should still be in the little building not too far off.

"Well, I know which direction he went in anyway, but now what do I do?" That thing would not be gone for very long. It would probably be angry when it returned. What did it matter? It was probably going to try and eat him anyway.

"Ah, my leg. I can hardly move it." It was taking a long time to get the feeling back in it. The only way down from here was to walk carefully under the edge of the precariously situated machine to the other side where a slope would allow a safe stroll down.

The huge steel crane still sat ready to do some job or other. Whatever it was doing when the world stopped escaped him. Now, it was just another object from the distant past. Something to wonder about in passing, but of little value otherwise. The old metal looked strained, almost ready to snap from age and neglect. Better get out of here. It was dangerous and slow, trying to walk past the bulk of the old machinery without slipping. Finally, he managed to get up behind it. The leg was feeling better, but that awful pins and needles feeling was taking a long time to get rid of. So hard to walk like this. There was a crunching sound somewhere down the hill. Oh no. It can't be back already?

If it was then it was much faster than it looked. There, at the bottom the creature loomed into view. The large eye bloodshot hideously. It looked very upset and snorted, yelling.

"You think smart pony! Trick The Butcher! You am no smarty pony. The Butcher am smart pony. You am stupid pony! Make The Butcher angry! The Butcher smash stupid pony!" Growling and blomping along in that weird way as it hopped up the rise.

"How you loose? Oooh. Boss not like. The Butcher fix! Fix good! Do good job!" Uh-oh.

There was no time and nowhere to go. It was barreling straight at him up the hill. The only thing between it and him was the crane. Growling and getting closer and closer. It was so huge.

"No, wait, don't!" This disturbing but somehow pitiful thing wasn't listening and heading straight at the crane.

"Hate stupid laughing ponies! Stop laughing!" No one was laughing. Its insane. Was it always? This poor tormented thing. Was it treated badly even before the war? Probably. Now, it was just being used in some vulgar game or something equally as disturbing thought up by Boss, it must be. Easily manipulated. What else could it be?

Nopony would be this things friend. Not really. In some way it deserved respect, and pity. These things are not given lightly or freely in the wastes, and never to something like this. It was not like the dark creatures he'd fought. It really was a pony once. Was it like him? Left all alone, abandoned maybe? Except it was never given a chance. Nopony saved it from loneliness and pain. There was no time to ask. Stop. Please, stop.

"Stop! You've got to stop!" It was no use. Darting behind the crane and leaping as far as possible at the last instant, its great bulk smashed into the already unbalanced machine which sent it toppling, twisting in a circular motion as the ancient steel couldn't take it anymore.

The support across which the remaining guidewires hung for so long snapped with a terrible twang. The body of the crane swung around with an awful groan given out by the bending metal. Everything came crashing down sending dust and metal pieces landing all over the place, half burying the pile of ponies in dirt. A sad mass grave for them. It took a while for the cloud of debris to settle, and an even longer time to stop choking on it.

"Am I still alive? Guess I must be." Somehow, Bolt was alright. Not even a cut or a bruise from all that. Where was... It was half crushed under the edge of the huge steel support, and still alive. It can't be? It couldn't move.

Twitching, and crying? It sounded like a foal. It was simpering and sniveling like a little baby. This incredibly powerful thing doing something like that was not something he'd expected. It sounded so weak, miserable. This feels wrong. Why does this of all things feel wrong? It should die. Hurry up and die already.

"No! no! no! Butch lose job! Butch was happy! Happy! hhaaw blubfbluuu." It was making weird noises and sniffling. What now? It was dying, but what was up with this? It looked upwards with such sad, pleading eyes.

"Butch am..scared. No want die. You save Butch?" It was asking to be saved? It was impossible.

The thing was nearly cut in half by the falling machinery. Freeing it from beneath all the metal would just make it die faster.

"I'm..sorry? I cannot save you." Why did this feel so bad? So wrong? This thing alone murdered, killed and ate so many ponies. Why did it hurt so much to see it suffer in turn? It must deserve this. It must. If anything deserved to suffer it was this miserable thing.

"It okay. Maybe..see....mommy now?" Mommy? What? It was difficult to think of this thing ever having parents. Did it at one time?

"I, I don't know." Why was he crying? Stop crying for this thing. Stop crying. Stop it. Stop it.

"Butch love mommy...make feel...safe....not...laugh...." A final wheeze and its head hit the ground.

"Buck it all! Stop crying! Stop crying! I can't feel like this for this monster! I can't! Stop! STOP!" Why wouldn't the tears stop? It doesn't deserve them. Angrily he kicked up dust and trotted in circles, trying to work it off. Why won't they stop?

"AAAAH!" Was anything ever going to be right again? Ever? Screaming at the top of his lungs was a needed release. Finally, they stopped. So much misery. So much pain. Was there no end to it?

Was death the only way to make it stop hurting? Boss caused all of this, somehow. He must be the most horrible pony in all the world to have been behind this. The pit full of ponies was evidence enough.

"Boss! I am going to find you, and then I'm going to kill you if it takes the rest of my life." He'd never felt so angry before. Not at anything. Not one thing was ever worth it before. Boss must be made to pay for this. How did he do it? What could possibly have prompted him to set something like this in motion? There was no logic to it. How did it help him any? This would make an enemy out of every pony there was. Boss was no pony either, surely, just another kind of monster.

One that must pay a heavy price.

"Forgive me for calling on you one last time, master. I have a final favor to ask of you." Could his spirit be out there somewhere, listening, watching? He hoped so. Even if not, there was something he needed to do before continuing, and headed towards that huge building in the distance. From here it only took about ten minutes to reach it. He shook himself off vigorously as much to help steel his nerves as get the dust off, leaving him a bit puffy looking. Gazing up at this old rickety tower climbing high into the sky and taking deep breaths before stepping inside.

There was something to face before once more trying to find a way into the south of the city.

"Help me do this. I should have asked you a long time ago." This building was once called the Grand Celestial Hotel. A name lost to time and memory. Long since worn from the entranceway into the one time posh lobby. Now, just another dangerous swaying tower awaiting its own miserable end. It held up surprisingly well. The first floor elevator door still flicked open and shut slowly, sparks occasionally shooting off the call panel. Some slim spark of power still reaching it from somewhere. Technology still held his interest. Not right now. Climb one set of stairs at a time.

On various sides of the building some pieces of outer walls, floors and other things had fallen away. Don't look out there, not yet. Just climb. Go up. It felt weirder and weirder in his gut as he climbed. Don't think about it. Climb. No fear. There is nothing to be afraid of. Each step up felt heavy and hard to take. How many steps would it take to reach the very top? He could just run up them. No. This was one thing to take slowly. One story at a time. It got harder after the fourth. Much harder after the seventh. Still such a long way to go. Inside there was a building uneasiness. Be calm. Just imagine hes right behind you, encouraging as always. He won't let you down. Watch your steps and keep going up.

That is all you have to do. The building felt like it might be swaying a little at this altitude. Perhaps just imagination. In a way it was relaxing. Nothing to think about but inching upwards inexorably. Just breathe. No hurry. No rush. Nothing trying to kill you. Nopony likely climbed this swaying tower since time immemorial. There were safer places to scavenge and explore. Did ponies die in here, too? It has stood up this long. It will wait for you. Step by step. Each floor welcoming his presence after such a long dearth of anything living treading this way. Interesting things lay strewn about everywhere. What were they all for? Did anypony in here expect what was coming for them?

Did they survive to leave this place, or were they swallowed up by whatever fell upon them? They built this and trusted it to stand, holding them up in the very sky. So confident. Was that their downfall? How many floors am I up now? No, don't think about it. By floor thirty it almost felt difficult to breathe. Only an imagining brought on in worry.

"I have to do this. If I am to be fearless in the face of fear itself I must rid myself of this one weakness. Help me do this." Only a little further. If the ponies of old could believe in their safety atop this mountain they built out of stone and steel then he could do it too. It may be damaged and old, but it still stood. Still, be cautious.

Careful steps over missing stairs or pieces of flooring. It would be all too easy to slip and fall much too far. It would also be a fast way out. Out of this existence now solely consistent of pain and suffering.

"Why is this so hard? I'm not scared of this. I am not. I'm not scared of pain. I just don't like it very much." He'd been muttering to himself nearly the entire way up. Maybe ten more floors. Numerous times he'd needed to stop and just hold still for a few moments, clinging to the stairs. It was grueling. It was fear. A fear that needed to be discarded. A weakness that could hold him back. The building definitely felt a little wobbly at this height.

Something anyone that ever strode atop such a thing would have gotten used to over time.

"Not much further. I'm doing alright. This is alright." He was actually shaking quite heavily despite this brave statement. Ponies weren't meant for this. No, they made this. Maybe it wasn't out of pride. Maybe they'd actually been too brave, too inconsiderate of the consequences. The great ponies of times past built straight towards the heavens to hold themselves up like gods and been punished for their arrogance and hubris. Could that be it? Is that why the world was like this now? What did it matter? They were gone, and this is all that was left.

A bunch of ruined buildings long left to decay and fall, taking their memories with them. How many lived here? It just kept going up and up. There were a lot of missing steps this far up. Chunks of wall long ago fallen away. Very exposed. A few jumps were necessary.

"Don't think. Climb." It was the only way. It must be done. Get rid of it. A little over an hour after beginning this torturous flight of fancy he took a wobbly step out onto what was left of the very pinnacle and lay flat against what was left of the roof.

"Get up. Get up." Taking deep breaths and forcing himself to move against his shuddering body to finally take a peek over the one edge still intact atop the massive building. The sight was breathtaking. It looked as if all Manehattan was within view. How many ponies ever got to see the world like this? The fear almost seemed to drop away of its own accord. It was almost beautiful. What did the city look like from up here when it was new? It must have been glorious. So much so that it brought tears to his eyes once again. Was this why they built so high? Maybe they weren't so prideful after all. Wait, what is that? Something else could be seen from so far up here. Something awful.

"By all that is pony!" He gasped loudly. What could be seen from so far above was a humongous bloody-looking symbol carved out in the ground about the entire northern section of the city, ringing it for miles. It cannot be.

True suffering. We all know of it, but what pain could be worth all this?

Dissonance

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

The Fifteenth Squadron

What small sparks it takes to ignite a raging fire. All that's necessary is the right fuel to start a blaze that sweeps onward like an ever-spreading wave. The ponies of Equestria thought themselves finally able to contain whatever gave rise to the stoked angered passions that lead to all-out war and begin the long transition to peace once more. The war was over. It must be. The soldiers still fighting, some still falling in the endless battles, may have held a different view. Pain was the order of the day. Pain they were finally inflicting on the enemy. Were they even the enemy anymore? What would they shortly become once total victory was achieved?

Ponies were indeed winning, at the cost of losing themselves and the very things they imagined themselves to be fighting for. Slaughtering the enemy is just how wars are won, isn't it? How much more would it cost? If they'd known the true price they would pay in the fullness of time, they would surely have all packed up and gone home. Instead, anger and the fighting it breeds would rage on until the very last instant. About to lose their world and none the wiser for all they already endured. Perhaps it simply could not be helped. Some still fought for the right reasons. Many did not. Sometimes it is difficult to know where right and truth lie.

Zebra forces were taxed well beyond their limits and about to fall completely apart. On both sides a growing apprehension was filling their hearts and minds. In some way they may have known what was coming. One cornered meek animal can turn brutally vicious. An entire race was about to be cornered. In war, some care only for victory. For those, defeat is an unbearable thought too humiliating to contemplate or consider, pushing it far from their thoughts. It would mean all they stood for did not have the strength to endure. Peace is an ideal which can only stand when all parties are given a fair chance to have it.

Too often, those standing victorious in the end finally feel the weight of what their victory cost. Victory this day, was going to cost far too much. Like it had since the beginning, things were only getting worse. Perhaps for once fearful and desperate, zebra forces were doing everything possible to harass and damage. They were very good at it. Too good. Now, on the verge of collapse they fought ever harder, not even paralleled by any previous actions. To imagine this is difficult. Day by day, hour by hour, second by second their intensity increased. Though dwindling in number their resolve to fight never truly wavered. As their formerly nearly invincible army crumbled, the desperation to hold onto this resolve grew.

This much hopelessness can only give way to hurriedly executed plans only vaguely considered in their entirety and scope. Fate is a fickle companion whose whims change directions as randomly as a hurricanes winds. The pegasi took pride in their heritage. Their very roots as warriors still held in highest regard. For the duration of this war it served them well. Air superiority wins battles. Countering flight is no simple matter. Plans to do so were drawn up ever since the beginning. There are few greater threats than a pegasus popping up from cover only to drop and disappear an instant later with no chance of shooting them down.

If they knew the extent of the enemies respect for this threat they would have taken even more pride. Dragon mercenaries, called on to fight this very threat were more common in the mix earlier, now few and far between. Taken down at a very high cost. One or two occasionally still dared to make an appearance, but were relegated to harrying and intimidation runs more than anything. Head-on encounters were by now nonexistent. The fact they were no longer a real threat was attributed solely to pegasi tactics and bravery in the face of truly daunting opponents. Those battles were by no means forgotten.

Losses that heavy do not go unremembered and these memories pushed flight teams to fight with even more vigor as the war was clearly drawing to a close. Their losses might go unpunished and that was unacceptable. Now was the last chance to hit them across the board, forcing their remnants in one region into the badlands and a more submissive stance should peace finally be broached. One last great offensive to break them. What was forgotten in all this is that deeply held hatreds only call for more of the same, and on it would go until the very last second before life could take no more and be stilled.

49 hours to war end:

"Command! Twelfth squadron actual.. We need immediate..." The radio operator jumped at the sudden burst from the secondary radio. It was only for monitoring generally unused frequencies in case enemy forces decided to risk employing such a thing, it was usually just dead air. He hurriedly summoned a flag officer over to listen. Something was wrong about this broadcast. For one, it was on an open frequency unused by the equestrian military, which immediately drew a red flag. Radio equipment was not exactly new by this late period of the long war, but it still suffered from occasional serious deficiencies.

Lack of transmission range was sometimes one of them. Whatever was being sent was seriously garbled and hard to filter through the static. There should be no urgent transmissions now anyway, the war was surely almost over, and especially not on open air. Victory was a certainty. There was nothing else to hear for a moment besides strangely worrying static. The wording of the transmission was perplexing and not in proper order either. It was possible the one sending it just made a mistake, but this possibility made it even more concerning. Why would they be using an open frequency? The operator fiddled with knobs and dials, trying to clear up the signal with little success.

The interference was the worst he'd ever heard. It could not possibly be random noise. The radio static burst again. It was almost impossible to hear what was being repeated until it at last cleared for a few seconds once more.

"Fifteenth squadron actual, radio .... all going down! Hit us with... 43 b...." The radio operator turned to his superior who was staring wide-eyed at the now silent radio. It took a moment for either of them to get thinking again. This was unexpected and very serious indeed.

"Sir? What should we do?" They were both in a slight state of shock.

If the radio message was to be believed something terrible just happened to no less than 48 pegasi. Maybe more.

"We do nothing." The officer stated coolly. Before this could be questioned he continued.

"The fifteenth are some of our best fliers and fighters. They are surpassed only by the Shadowbolts and.." They did not like to talk about what happened to some of their best. They all knew who he meant.

"If anypony has a chance of getting them out of whatever mess they're in, it is their captain. Keep trying to raise them at half-hour intervals. Inform the closest tactical group north of their last known position to post a watch for any of them and monitor radio traffic. Keep it quiet." Were his only orders.

"Yes..sir." The operator performed his duty, but was clearly distraught they were not doing more.

"One of your relatives is in the fifteenth, right?" The operator was caught off-guard at being asked.

"Uh, yes. My cousin. I hope he's okay." He was rather worried about them now.

The pegasus officer placed a hoof over his shoulder. This was surprising. He looked back to see him smiling.

"My son is with that squadron, and I know he will do everything possible to help them come back alive. Barring that, I know he will give our enemies the worst bloody nose they have ever been graced with. Trust your cousin to do the same, he would not be in that outfit if he wasn't one of the very best." With that the officer returned to his usual rigid demeanor and went back to whatever other business was in need of his attention. The reassurance was strange, but it was nice to know how highly regarded the squadron truly was. The squadron was indeed amongst the best, now just short of being deemed elite and they all knew it. They'd worked very hard to get that recognition.

This also meant taking on one tough mission after another, always just slightly overshadowed. In the field, things were not going according to plan today. Somewhere behind enemy lines they were on the ground. This is not a place a pegasus should be during a war.

"Sparks! Tell me what happened to us, where we are, and what happened to twelfth spec ops attachment?" Their captain and the two with him were alright, some were not so lucky and landed very hard.

"I don't entirely know sir. Those of us with the advanced flak suits got attacked and downed by our own self-defense systems. They all shorted out partway I think. At the same time a kind of biological contact agent was spread via some type of air dispersal bombs and locked our wings in whatever position they were in at the time. It didn't fully work is the only reason any of us managed to glide at all. I'm guessing. No sign of the twelfth. We are around 43 miles behind the lines from glide lock. Obscure B3." Sparks took a deep breath. This was very bad. They were not really equipped for ground warfare and could not fly out of here. Their wings were finally retracted, but hurting very badly.

"Can any of you move your wings or fly?" He asked of the small group standing around. There were only four of them together, more must be somewhere close by. They all shook their heads in resignation. It was just too painful to extend them now.

"Why do I feel embarrassed? Ahem, and the radios? Anypony get a message off?" The captain looked a little shaken, they'd never seen him that way before.

"Sorry sir. Helmet radios and the big one are still working fine, their shielding held. There has to be a kind of severe radio interference coming from somewhere. Tried all channels, even open. I can't tell if command got it." Sparks looked pretty worried too. He was a fine technician, but support was usually their only role. The captain hesitated for a second, looking at the mic on the hefty piece of equipment before depressing the clip.

"Fifteenth squadron actual. Code free. 5 through 24, sound off status and obscured position immediately. Hurry." The static was extreme but a moment later there was definitely some barely audible chatter.

Nothing from members 5 and 6. Bad news.

"7 through 9 together, alright. South 40 1R from stage." Two miles north, not bad. More silence from 10 and 11. That was not so good.

"12 through 14 here. Pretty banged up, but still kicking! South 35 L2 from stage." A lot further away.

"15 and 17. Hurt pretty bad. Don't know what happened to 16. We cannot find them, sir. South 28 L6 from stage." They were scattered over a very wide area and miles apart.

Regrouping would not normally be so difficult for those able to soar the skies.

"18 through 24, sound off now, or I'll kick your flanks all the way to Tartarus myself!" The captain making a threat like that would always get them moving, because he meant it and would find a way to do it, too. Only an eerie silence punctuated by static was heard for a moment. A meek sounding voice finally popped on, that was not like how any of them usually acted.

"19.. I.. I... Th...think they're all dead, sir. I.. help me.." Was that a bang? It went silent.

There was nothing more from them.

"19, your position? 19? Respond!" The captain was tough and sometimes abrupt, but this was clearly an unusual position to be in. Holding a hoof to his head where he took a bit of a bump on landing, he took a deep breath. 18 through 24 simply weren't answering anymore. Could they really all be gone? Not good. He pressed the send clip again.

"Listen up all. If any teams can hear me, but cannot respond. Your orders are to destroy all damaged flak suits. They're useless on the ground without their defense systems, ditch them. Take any functional small weapons and beeline towards our original staging area as fast as you reasonably can. We will form up as we move. Do not stop. Avoid the enemy at all costs. If you cannot move, assume a defensive position and hunker down. I think we are the farthest south and should come across your beacons. Hold tight." It was time to get moving. Staying in any one position was dangerous. The fate of 16, and 19 through 24 was of great concern. All the rest seemed to have landed alright.

It was easy enough to destroy the suits, there were means of doing so built right into them. This was going to be hard slog through enemy territory. They were almost bound to run into them somewhere. Most pegasi only ever saw how the war looked from above.

"We are a long way behind enemy lines. You all know this is clearly a trap. They absolutely know we are here somewhere, so spread out and keep pace. Cloud Reaper, guess who just joined the ground-pounders? Point. Hard Charger, rear guard." The captain knew every one of them well, and usually referred to each by a well-earned nickname instead.

If there ever was a time to be a little closer and more assuring, this was it.

"Yes, sir." They both replied as Reaper took lead up ahead. He was perhaps the most rough and tumble of them all, and carried a few too many scars from being a bit too daring. He wore them well though. By earth pony standards he would be on the large side, by pegasus standards he was nearly colossal. The rest fell in and took to a fast walk. A faster pace would only serve to needlessly fatigue them. Still, they needed to move quickly. They all possessed a few small guns, the heavier ones were simply too large to detach and carry, so were destroyed along with the suits.

Giving up anything to the enemy was unthinkable. The suits themselves might be useless to the stripes, but the weapons were certainly a commodity. In general the ponies did have superior firepower to some degree. If nothing else, weapons of pony make were somewhat more reliable than those of zebra manufacture. It was not as pronounced of a difference now, but it still gave them an advantage.

"Sparks, switch to private channel 1 for a moment." The captain would not normally have bothered to keep anything private, so this was a bit odd. After doing so he continued and spoke quietly.

"I know you are aware, we're in trouble. Don't let it slip. They may not realize it, but there is no way we can just walk out of this. Without being able to call for rescue we are in deep." This was pretty blunt of him to state, but it was true. 43 miles behind enemy lines is a very very long walk. Even if they were all together it would be all but impossible to survive this trek.

"Captain, we all swore the same oaths, and knew there were risks. We have all lost somepony we cared about. Let's show the enemy what we're really made of and make it very hard for them to swallow what they've bitten off." Sparks reply was heartfelt.

"And here I was getting worried. I always liked a challenge. Alright." The captain sounded more confident already. He was always a solid individual before, and could be forgiven a shaky moment after being downed like this. All of them were pretty rattled. 45 minutes passed in quiet. They'd made about four miles already. A good pace, maybe they did have a chance after all. Ahead, Reaper cautiously peered over a small rise and motioned for all to get down. Pegasi hearing and sight range are tremendously good, as they must be. Even unassisted they can catch the slightest movement. The captain slipped up to the rise to be informed that a zebra patrol was just out in front of them, they'd nearly walked right into them.

If not for the little rise they would now be under fire. All they could do was wait and hope they passed by. The feeling of waiting when a threat to survival is right around the corner is a wearing experience. Few of the squadrons number ever needed to deal with this in reality. They were trained well and battle-hardened, but that was all in a standup fight. Waiting like this was interminable and felt like forever. In truth it was a mere few moments. It felt like hours. Eventually the patrol passed far enough out of sight for them to get moving again. A couple more miles down and still nothing from their beacon locators. All wore one strapped to a leg. The range was very limited, but they should have some indication of others by now.

It was perhaps not too unusual given the interference, and that the rest should be moving as well. To their right in the distance they were passing by a large towering column of rock. Such a thing would be an impressive sight to most, but merely a ground feature to them. Mere height is not something which impresses a pegasus very much. What was perhaps more impressing were the odd markings on the base of the tower. Just looking at them gave an odd sensation of foreboding. It was a bad feeling shared by all. The locators did not have a great range to begin with. It was almost certainly being cut further by whatever was sending up so much interference across all channels.

Once again they were signaled to stop. Something was odd ahead. As the captain approached he was puzzled at not really seeing anything.

"What is.." He went to ask as Reaper pointed over around the bend. Peering around the corner of the huge stone column very slowly gave a view of what appeared to be one of the flak suits. As still as a statue. A sixteen was emblazoned across the flank. It seemed to be just standing there motionless against an outcropping. Somehow he'd ended up here all alone, but why wasn't he moving at all? How did he even get here?

The damaged suits were dead weight and useless, not capable of standing on their own. Something was truly wrong about this. None of his subordinates would disobey orders. There was no time to wonder about this, a decision must be made immediately. He decided to step out and confront the pegasus inside.

"Comet Trail.. Hey, Comet.. you alright buddy?" He tried to keep his voice down. It could easily echo here. As he moved closer he could see there was blood running down from a puncture in the suit. Had he been shot? If so why hadn't they taken his suit and weapons?

"Comet? Comet, come on. We have to go." Comet was a friend to most in the squadron and well-liked. This was not like him at all.

"Stay back!" Comet practically growled as he began smashing his helmeted head into the rock repeatedly, causing more blood to gush forth from the suit.

"Comet! What the hay!? You're killing yourself! Stop!" The captain hissed, but it was having no effect as he continued to ram and smash his head into the rock harder and harder repeatedly.

Before the captain could reach him he placed a gun pointed into the punctured suit and pressed it up against the outcropping, ready to fire.

"Comet, no!" The captain went to dash at him, but it was too late.

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't stop it." With that Comet placed a hoof against the mouth trigger and flicked it. The other three came running around the corner at the shot, but the captain put a hoof straight out out to stop them going farther and shook his head. The look on his face told them not to push past. Comet slumped forward and slid to the ground hard.

He was surely dead. Why. Why did he do it?

"We have to move, now. That shot could easily have been overheard. Get moving. Move! I'll be there in a moment." The rest continued on, somewhat shocked at this and the order. The captain moved towards his fallen subordinate. Never in a million years could he have imagined this pony doing such a thing to himself. Tears fell as he gathered up the small weapons and his tags, setting the fallen suit to destroy itself along with Comet. There was no time to do anything else. He huffed, and nearly choked.

"I know you didn't want to do this to yourself, Comet. I don't know what happened to you. I will tell them you fought hard. Somehow, I think that is the truth." At least, he would if they got out of here. He sniffled and brushed the tears away before catching up to the others.

"Captain, what..." Reaper went to ask, but the stony look on his superiors face told him not to. Another hour of hard walking passed in silence, and another. Finally one of the beacons registered on Sparks locator. Still 33 miles from safety. At least they might have more support now. 7, 8, and 9. They managed to catch their attention before moving in.

Accidentally shooting each other would make this mess very complete. The three were moving very slowly. They'd clearly landed hard at too steep of an angle much too fast, and were bleeding from numerous cuts. Each was bruised in several places. At least they'd finally picked up some of the missing members. This seemed to raise the captains spirit.

"Captain, are we ever glad to see you guys. We have a bit of a problem. Spectrum Bustle cannot walk at any good pace or fight. His right foreleg is pretty twisted, and his right hind leg is even worse. He slammed down pretty hard, sir." Straight Arrow informed them.

"That's just great. Couldn't you have landed on your head instead, Bustle? We all know how hard it is." The captain said, drawing light laughter from the group, and a bit of a blush on the targets muzzle. A bit of levity in a situation like this was probably a good thing.

"Okay, keep it down. We have a long way to go, and if I'm not mistaken, only a few hours before Celestia sets the sun. I don't really want to try camping out here and be set upon by the stripes in the dark. Pair up, we will take turns helping carry him along. You know the drill, fifteen minutes each." The pace was grueling, but there wasn't much choice.

Keeping the stripes off them for an entire night would likely prove to be impossible without support. As it stood, they were short enough on ammo for the small snub pistols they carried. The weapons were only intended to give a downed pegasi a quick and reliable secondary means of defense until rescue could move in. This situation was certainly never thought of. There was no way to tell if their radio messages were reaching anypony but themselves. Sparks could not assist carrying the injured due to the hefty dual antenna radio he lugged along, strapped to his back. The square bulky radios transmission strength was tremendous, surely at least a little got back to friendly lines?

If it did, they were not receiving any responses even as they closed the gap.

"Arrow, did any of you get a radio message off before going down, or see what happened to 19 through 24?" The captain asked.

"I think we all tried, but no answers. It happened so fast. I think I saw 23 going down short and west of here at a steep glide, but nothing so bad as us. Should've run into her by now, sir." Was his unhappy reply.

"We are spread out over way too much area. We could be trotting right past each other and never even see one another in this place. How do the stripes maneuver so easily around here? Anyway, we can only hope to pick up more as we move." The captain was definitely worried about this. The closer they got to what could loosely be deemed the front lines these days, the more likely they would run into more trouble. He was doing his best not to let whatever happened to drive Comet into committing suicide without so much as a word of explanation be the foremost thing on his mind. Lack of clarity here would definitely prove deadly. Still, the entire incident made his blood run cold, and left him on edge.

The worry was simple enough. Whatever happened to the poor flier could happen to another. If it did, what would happen, what would they do? Just what he needed. The possibility of more of them acting crazy. Hopefully, that would not come to be. Losing any of their number was painful. Each was a valued companion and an excellent fighter or they wouldn't be here. Losing even one that miserable way just did not sit right. Going out fighting was one thing. In some instances it could almost be celebrated, as painful as it was. Taking yourself out was an entirely different matter.

"Captain." Their superior jolted out of his thoughts at being spoken to. Sparks was asking him a question.

He really was on edge.

"Sorry, captain. Are you alright? You've looked a little pale ever since.. and, we all landed very hard. You sure you're not hurt? I know it's your job to be all tough and everything, sir." Sparks really was a good sort. They'd been through a lot together.

"I'm alright. I just never thought.. Never mind. Just keep at your radio and locator. We need help. Help from anywhere. The closest ground unit I'm aware of was several miles west of stage, so they're even further away." It was a heavy burden, leading these pegasi to fight and die, but it was never like this.

Each of them was a trusted stalwart, more than worthy of fighting alongside the best. Most of those in the fifteenth were true veterans of the long and bitter struggle. Only a couple were really young now, but all still saw enough action to merit deep respect. They looked aged far beyond their years. The rest served even longer. He'd lost others before, it was true, but it never felt anything like this. There were stories of the wicked and twisted things enemy forces threw at them before, but a pegasus fights from above. Away from it all, detached from the carnage on the ground. The sky is where they are truly most comfortable. Being forced onto the ground like this was a painful blow in itself, humiliating.

It would not be said aloud, but they all felt that way. How dare the stripes inflict such embarrassment on them? For the captain, going down having been shot out of the sky while fighting, would easily have been considered a far better fate than this. This was wrong. An affront to their honor and pride. This was eating at each of them. About two miles east of their position a terrifically green flare went sailing into the sky and burst. It could only have been fired off by 12, 13, or 14. On the particular mission they were engaged in before being knocked out of the sky, that particular color meant under fire. This was terrible. Worse, there was nothing they could do but evade and leave them to face their end alone.

"Captain, shouldn't we go help them?" They'd all halted at the sight. This was not going to be easy in any way.

"No. Keep moving, and before any of you get the wrong idea, that flare is not them calling for help. They're just saying goodbye and good luck, we'll keep them busy. See ya later, boys. Now, salute them and move on. You know that's what they want." The captain was clearly holding back years worth of tears. Each turned a smart salute in their direction and forlornly went on with the knowledge their longtime friends were giving them all they were worth and then some. May their enemies choke on it.

"I hope you take a whole battalion worth with you. Knowing you three, you might even manage that." The captain mumbled to himself inaudibly. He'd considered asking about resigning before. His time was already served twice over and he'd just about had enough. Maybe he should've got out while his luck still held? The thought felt empty. This was what he knew. What would he do when the war was over? Just go back to the quiet and fairly unremarkable existence that was his lot before all this? He'd never been very ambitious before joining up. Seeing ponies he knew personally being killed in droves is what pushed him to do better, fight harder to protect others until he was deemed an ace.

This designation certainly raised up his own pride in himself. He was just old enough to sign on when it started. Seeing so many dear friends leave and never return was a burning pain inside that practically guaranteed he would. The first time he joined actual combat was the most exciting, and most fearful moment of his entire life. He proved to quickly master the tactics necessary for survival during the brutal sortie. Some did not come back that time, just some added fuel to his anger and pain. Fear is a necessity. Without it one could easily make terrible mistakes. Those who claim to have absolutely none are either out of their minds or lying to themselves.

None of those within the ranks of the fifteenth were the sort to delude themselves. They were here to fight to the end. This intense drive to fight and protect others is what inevitably steered him into leading the squadron. Few would consider themselves peers to their celebrated captain in battle. This situation was wearing and intolerable. What would his life have been like if the war never happened? He would certainly not be who he was now. Formerly a slightly shy but still outgoing individual back then, he imagined it could have been a happy enough existence. At least, his friends would still be around. Instead, many of them lay strewn wherever they may have fallen. Some were known to be dead, but never found.

The destruction of battle forever obscuring their final fate. For some reason, those losses hurt the most. 27 miles to go. Things were certainly going to get more interesting as they got closer to the front. Just ahead another beacon finally showed up, they'd finally run across 7, 8, and 9. They weren't moving very fast either.

"Whistle Stop, report." The captain ordered. As per usual they caught their attention carefully first.

"Everything was going fine. We were sweeping probable enemy positions and then something went off and hurt our wings and we all did our best to land and we lost sight of everypony else because we went down too fast and we all got dinged up when we hit the ground and Gust Gale hit his head pretty hard and Twister Breaker hurt his hoof and we all thought were going to die on impact and that would have sucked. Do you know what happened to us? It hurts so much to move our wings and.." She stopped her almost impossible to follow fast chattering at seeing the captain hold up a hoof.

"Whistle Stop, I said report, not give us your life history." That drew a good laugh. They needed it.

Now they were at least a decent sized force and might be able to punch through whatever might be in their way if they were judicious about their use of ammo.

"Sorry. We are all able to move, but we all took a pretty hard tumble as you can see. I think I saw 15 and 17 ditch about half a mile on from right about here. They shouldn't be too hard to catch up with. You look a bit banged up yourself, sir." Whistle Stop might talk incomprehensibly fast sometimes, but she could also fly like the wind itself. An admirable trait to have and very applicable to warfare. There were a few better, but not many. She knew it, and they knew it.

Every single pegasus here felt they deserved to feel as prideful as they did. Each and every one suffered greatly through many battles. It was hard earned. They were making good time for the condition they were all in, but it was not fast enough. At the pace they were able to keep it would still be dark before they made it to relative safety. It would only be possible to make a few more miles at this rate. Ahead to the west a little was a tremendously high and wide column of rock with a vague spiral to the shape in places. All this walking was wearing. Even when near the ground pegasi would prefer to hover a bit above as they moved along. All this walking was nearly unbearable.

Of course they were in shape for it, hard training and endless years of deployments ensured they were. This was just not fair. Gazing through a pair of binoculars somepony managed to hang onto, the captain spotted 10, 15 and 17 huddled up against the edge of this gigantically tall rock formation. No sign of 11. Using a little signal mirror to bounce what little light was left of the day at them got their attention. After getting close enough to see them properly it was obvious they'd landed the hardest out of any survivors thus far. They must have practically crawled to get here.

"Are we ever glad to see you guys. We're in really rough shape, sir." Wild Eyes, a demolitions expert, gave a quick summary of their injuries. Both suffered several cracked ribs and torn muscles in various places. Not quite bad enough to stop them from moving, but they were very slow. That either of them were able to move at all showed just how willful and determined an injured pegasus can be. This was more bad news. They were already moving much too slowly. There was no possible way to cover another 25 miles with all three of the injured ponies before the sun dropped below the horizon, and where in the world did 23 wind up? There was no sign of her.

Even a dead body would be something, there was not so much as a hoofprint. Without any indication where the rest landed at all, they might never be found in this disorienting desert of a place. There was no choice but to try and find a defensible spot where they might escape detection for the night.

"There's a little cave entrance or something just around the other side about two hundred meters from here. We both saw it before we slammed down. Almost crashed right into it before we went sailing past. We umm, didn't quite feel like trying to go back and check it out, sir." The pair of injured pegasi informed them. A hidden cave?

It might be just what they needed, but it seemed unlikely they would just happen to find a safe haven so readily. With the radio still giving no reply but heavy static they could only hope it was undiscovered and unoccupied.

"I trust anything in this place about as far as I can spit. Alright, we'll check it out. I see you've still got a couple smoke grenades. Hoof'em over. You three injured sit tight." The captain was all business now. They knew this side of him rather well. The rest would go.

"You all better remember your close ground assault training. I will not die just because one of you forgets to check a corner, got it? Get in position. Go, go, go." He would be taking up his own position as they moved in on the entrance. Moving in around the sides of the little entrance proved there would be just enough for two ponies to enter side by side. They would only enter single file to fan out. Moving in together would be something they'd been drilled never to do. One must take the risk of entering first and calling in the next. The captain pointed Reaper to sweep left and Arrow to take right as they formed up quietly alongside the rocky entrance. It was dark inside.

After throwing one of the few marker flares in their kits deep inside to see. Reaper moved in checking left and right, and motioned the rest in one after another to rapidly move forward and check out the entire space. It proved to be a much larger cavern than expected with several unused looking passageways riddling the place, all going downwards at various angles.

"All clear!" Was finally called out by Whistle Stop after every nook and cranny of the large space was thoroughly examined for traps or hidden enemies. The passages proved to be a different matter.

They were dim, too small to stand side by side in and scattered off in multiple directions. Most were dusty and appeared very unused. One showed what might be signs of more recent use, but it was very difficult to tell. In all there were six. Another passage looked to have collapsed in on itself at some point. In all it appeared to be a very well hidden and defensible place. They might be able to spend the night here in relative safety.

"Something about this place doesn't sit right with me. I don't like it, sir. It is really hot in here." Sparks said in a matter of fact fashion to the captain after they'd helped move the injured inside the surprisingly large cavern.

The six dark passages lining the walls at odd intervals made for an eerie feeling by themselves.

"Forgive me, let me just ask Her Highness if she could kindly turn down the sun. What's to like, Sparks? Excepting the wounded we will take three hour watches covering the entrance and the passages. Nopony is to go wandering off. Stay in teams of at least three at all times, is that clear?" The captain was very intent on at least dying out in open air if it must come to that.

"Who would want to go wandering around what is very likely some old forgotten zebra haunt anyway? I agree though. Don't you feel it? This place definitely has a weird vibe about it. Won't they be sending rescue by now, sir?" Bustle chimed in. They'd done their best to make them all as comfortable as possible, but there was not very much they could do. Real medical attention was back at stage. Normally they would have airlifted the wounded off for attention. A practice they'd become very accustomed to. It saved a lot of lives over time, not only those of downed fliers. They'd perhaps become too used to being able to almost move freely as enemy resistance everywhere began to dwindle in number.

"All this place needs to complete the wonderful ambience and atmosphere is a mirror and someone chanting 'Bloody Mare!'" Wild Eyes quipped.

"Can it, Wild Eyes. Like anypony ever believed that nonsense anyway." The captain was obviously poking fun a little. Now, there was going to be a bit of a problem. In their pain, none of the squadron members they picked up on the way here asked about 16 or the others yet. They were bound to do so quite soon. What was he going to tell them?

He might get away with informing Comet's family and others that he went down fighting, but these fine companions he'd come to rely on would know better and see right through any lie about it. It was going to be a tense night. Providing they even survived it. Zebra patrols absolutely would be sweeping the area intensely for now. By only sheer luck and a little skill did they all avoid getting mowed down thus far.

"All of you, listen up." the captain clapped his hooves together to emphasize this was rather important and stood looking over the exhausted ponies under his command.

He could not have asked or hoped for better friends to live, and perhaps die alongside. Now was as good a time as any.

"I know most of you are wondering what happened to the rest. First, think about it, Bustle. A whole squadron went missing and they have no idea why, air support will not be coming, and a ground column cannot risk looking for us. We're on our own. I don't want to add to your burdens, but we may have another serious problem. I will tell you all what I know. Nothing from the twelfth. 12 through 14 are dead. They saved all our lives just a couple hours ago. 18 through 24 are either completely out of action or gone. All we got was a broken message from 19 that cut off. 23 might still be around here somewhere, but we cannot find her, and it gets worse." He hadn't mentioned 16 yet. This was so hard to tell them.

As Whistle Stop went to ask he held up his hoof and looked down.

"I want all of you to consider not telling this to anypony else why out of respect for all their time served with us but, Comet Trail is also dead. He said something strange, and shot himself before I could stop him." Saying this aloud hurt the captain to the core. The three with him were maybe a little surprised he chose to share this so openly. The rest looked on in stunned silence. How could one of their most confident and skillful have done such a thing? Whistle Stop looked the most shaken.

"Captain, it can't be. He wouldn't have..He wouldn't." She was trembling and tears were welling up. They all knew those two may have been striking up a relationship that might have been heading towards marriage. It wasn't a good idea to have such thoughts during the vast war, but it was so very nearly over. Why would he choose to hurt her like this? The captain spoke carefully.

"Whistle Stop..Whistler, look at me. Look. Listen." She looked up and peered at him through heavy tears. It was hard to see her this way.

"I do not believe for the slightest instant he wanted to do it. Something is really wrong with all of this, and we all need to be extremely cautious. Keep an eye out for each other. Do not start getting paranoid out here, but watch each others behavior, alright? Stick together. I mean it." He didn't want to discourage or cause them to turn on one another for no reason, but he simply couldn't choose not to warn them. Not a single one of them deserved to be taken unaware of what might be coming.

"Thank you for telling us, sir. I can see in your face all that must have been hard to say. We understand." Gust ventured to salute the captain, and the rest did the same.

"If only 23 were with us. Her knowledge of chemistry might prove useful right about now." Sparks stated lightly. Unusually for a pegasus, she was an expert on magically enhanced chemical warfare, and that was all they could imagine caused whatever happened. Where could she be? The sun finally went down below the horizon. The one duty that Celestia seemed to have kept after her sudden departure from the throne so long ago. She didn't have to do that either, others could very well have taken over in her place. Perhaps she took solace in seeing that much-celebrated orb still bring some measure of confidence and hope to her beloved ponies. At least one thing that could still be trusted.

She might even return to the throne after the war ended. That would truly signal that hostilities were over. That could not be hoped for, not quite yet. That would be something later, a great and happy moment. For now, the enemy was still defiant, practically to the point of insanity. Their very motivations to this point still mostly a mystery.

"Three hour rotations. Keep it sharp and your wits about you." The captain himself desperately needed some rest. He'd been hustling most of them along for almost half a day now and it was showing. The single dim flare they'd tossed would last for several hours at least. It would only provide a modicum of light.

Leaving flickering shadows and minds to jump at nothing. There were only three of them left, just enough to last the night. Even if command had some idea where they were, help would not be coming from the air. Not without knowing what brought them down. Perhaps by tomorrow enough ground force might be pulled together to push a column this deep into enemy territory to assist. That was a possibility that could not be counted on.

"Captain, before you get some rest, do you really think 18 through 24 are gone?" Reaper asked quietly. It was uncharacteristic of him to even bother asking such questions. The captain took a deep breath and sighed heavily.

"What 19 said... I could hear it in his voice. Something really terrible happened to those guys. Whatever it was, I don't want it happening to us." The tinge of sadness to the captains voice lately was not something any of them were used to hearing. The war had already taken more lives than any would care to count. In a way the horror of it all was about to end. Not knowing how close they were to witnessing the very end of Equestria along with it, both sides were still losing valued friends and members of their respective societies. The pain of losing so many kindred to what felt like no real reason at all is what hurt the most.

From above the captain watched many of them fall from the very sky which was their home, and saw those on the ground taking on even more brutal losses. He never let another see it, but sometimes he shook when nopony was looking. In his most private moments he trembled terribly, remembering it all. If his superiors ever saw it they would have removed him from duty immediately. He really should have quit, but that burning desire to protect others was still there. It was the one defining trait he ever truly felt anything about. If he could no longer do that one thing, what good was he? He quickly fell into a deep and dreamless slumber.

As the first watch shifted positions a few hours later, they let the captain continue to sleep instead of waking him. In that time all seemed well enough. As the first flare stuttered and began to fade another was about to be lit by Whistle Stop. At this instant a sharp scream rang out followed by a heavy thud. As she struck the end against a rock to light it, the just lit flare went flying out of her muzzle as she was dragged into one of the passages. The rest went to shoot at whatever it was, but it was already too late. She was gone. At the same time as her echoing scream faded into the deep, Reaper was struck in the back of the head by something and fell, possibly dead.

The sound of gunfire echoed terribly in the cavern as they shot into the passageways blindly. Being picked off in the dark was causing them to panic.

"Sparks, I can't see anything in here. Cease fire! Celestia damn it. Cease fire!" The captain was yelling from the ground of this dimly lit cave. It finally got through. They'd wasted far too many rounds aimlessly in the dark.

"Well this is a fine mess. Each of you check how many rounds you have left and stop firing at shadows! You know better. No target, no shot. We do not have enough ammo for suppressing fire. Somepony check Reaper." There was no point being angry at them. Something unseen picked off two of their number in the dark. Seeing the lifeless form of Reaper laying there sent chills down his spine. Breaker knelt in close to place an ear against his chest, then hammered about the area around his heart with a hoof. A moment later he stood and shook his head slowly. Whatever struck Reaper was not apparent.

"He's gone, sir." Was all he could barely manage to say. Sparks spoke up.

"What do we do about Whistle Stop? She was definitely not dead." This drew the same question from the others.

"We will put it to a vote. Consider carefully for a moment. If we go down there, it might well be the end of us all." The captain did not want to blindly lead them to their deaths, at least not one in some dark pit in the ground. After a brief pause he asked.

"All for?" Everyone raised a hoof.

"We never leave anypony behind. Not the fifteenth, sir. After we rescue Whistler, we'll go find the others, too." Charger made it sound like there was nothing else to consider. They were all very likely going to die here anyway. Might as well go out hard.

"Well, there's no arguing with that, is there? Can't say I ever fancied going spelunking. Alright, form up. Sparks, you, Arrow, Breaker and Rooks will stay here with the injured. Remain in the center of the cave and well away from the passages. We will take the last flare. If we are not back before this flare dies out, get them out of here. Drag them all the way home if you have to. No arguments." The captain knew this was something they must do.

Whistler might well still be alive, lost in the dark. Leaving her to face the enemy by herself was not an option. What happened to 12, 13, and 14 came to mind, but they went down fighting and knowing they were not alone or abandoned. This was something altogether different.

"Marbles, point. Pin Strike, Rear guard. Get that cannon of yours ready. Spectre, with me. All of you watch your steps, and do not lose that flare under any circumstances. Without it we could be lost forever." An admonishment they likely did not need, but it was better to reinforce how important it was. Marbles was just a little crazy, in a good way.

Pin Strike had the best eyes, and was the most precise shooter the captain ever saw. He'd proven to be a superb shot on many occasions. The ever-present lightweight mini-PSS close-combat sniper rifle strapped to his back was a familiar sight as he unslung it and popped in the 20 round cartridge, then pulled back the mouth charger slide. It was a very advanced weapon, few of which were in service yet. Designed to be as easy to use as possible and made of odd materials, he was so good that he'd been one of the rare ponies chosen to receive one for field testing. For two years now, it proved to be an amazing rifle. Anything within 300 meters would be an easy hit for him.

He was the only one that did not waste any rounds in the short scuffle. This left him with the most bullets. These specific armor piercing rounds were not common yet either, packing an extremely heavy punch into a very small package. Spectre might as well have been a ghost for all he spoke.

"Solid targets only. Most of us have about half a clip or less, that's not so good. Move out." They set off into the darkness of the path where Whistler was taken. There was clear indication someone was being dragged.

About ten minutes along in their awkward trek into the dark the passage opened out slightly into a smaller cavern with a couple of branching hallways chiseled into the rock. They looked ancient and unused as the rest of the place. It took a few minutes to spot a few drops of blood looking to be leading into the leftmost hall.

"Scrape a mark into the edge there. Getting lost in here on top of everything else is not my idea of a good time." The captain ordered. How he yearned for the open skies above. He knew they all held similar feelings, but he felt so confined in here it was getting on his nerves. At least none of them were claustrophobic.

All they could do was follow the trail and hope Whistle Stop wasn't hurt too badly. Partway along the trail Marbles looked at a little indent along the rock wall.

"Hey, what's this?" He said as he pushed on what could possibly be a little button.

"No, don't!" They all said in unison. Too late as a large chunk of the wall swung around, swallowing Marbles whole.

"Marbles! Can you hear us!?" It was no use. The false wall, looking exactly like the rock was simply too thick. There did not appear to be any sort of mechanism on this side to open it again.

"Damn yer hide, Marbles! Keep moving, maybe we can go around and link back up with him down further somewhere. Sky Skimmer, take point. Spectre Flight, in front of me." This was already not going well. Now, there were only four of them. Out of all of them Spectre was probably most used to being on the ground, having served with second battalion as close support during some of the worst fighting of the entire war.

"Nopony touch nothin!" The captain was pretty irritated Marbles did this. Sometimes he was just a little too reckless. More often than not it was more of a facade, but sometimes it got him in real trouble. Nothing this bad before, though.

Distressed, they walked on down the narrow winding corridors. What was this place? Everything about it was strange and felt off somehow, in a way none of them could quite fathom. The very angles of the thin corridors felt a bit strange in some way. The entire place almost seemed designed to be disorienting, but who would build something that way on purpose? It was probably just their imaginations getting carried away in a terrible situation. The passageway always going downwards finally widened gradually until two ponies could stand side by side, continuing to do so until they stepped out into an immense room. It was an actual room.

Covered top to bottom in cobwebs and dust were a couple huge tables that must have once sat at least a hundred. A few ancient oil lanterns left unlit for decades or longer were arranged about the tables. At one time this room must have served some kind of royalty, perhaps. If they were new it would be an impressive sight. Disused and apparently undisturbed for ages rot and grime settled on everything.

"Check those lanterns. Be careful, I said check them. The last thing we need is something blowing up in our faces." The captain knew this was a bit risky. Lighting something so old could prove very dangerous. Two turned out to be serviceable.

Between the two there was enough oil remaining to fill one to capacity, with just a little left over for the other. It should last several hours. More than enough. They all carried a packet of matches in their small kits. It was standard issue. You never know when you might need to set something ablaze. Using them was not the easiest thing in the world to do, after a few misfires the lantern burst to life in fits and starts for a moment. A good hour and a half must have passed since Marbles went missing. With the lantern casting far more light, the sheer size of this old room impressed itself. It was at least three stories high. At one time it must have been truly spectacular.

Why would a place this grand have been abandoned to dust and decay? The great meetings once held in this grandiose hall by firelight could almost be imagined. Grand feasts consisting of all manner of delicacies were surely served here long ago.

"Captain. Call me crazy, but I think these long serving trays under all the cobwebs might be made of pure platinum. Just one of these is probably worth thirty thousand bits, sir. Why would they just leave this stuff here for the spiders?" Sky remarked. As he looked up, he found out why.

The captain was pointing to the other end of the room they could now see with the improved light from the old lantern.

"Because they never left either." He said gravely, gazing at a pile of zebra skeletons thrown everywhere in a tangle.

"Oh dear Luna, what happened here?" Pin Strike didn't look so good.

"This place is a tomb, and I don't want to know what happened. Some kind of weapon or experiment, or worse, got out of control here. Forget the trays. You know the rules. We do not loot. Besides, we need to find Marbles and Whistler real quick and get out of here, now. Let's move." The captain didn't really look too good himself. There was only about two more hours before Sparks and the others left without them. Sky looked at the buried trays wistfully, and turned to follow.

"Oh well. I didn't join up to get rich anyway. I'm just here to fight." Sky mumbled a little halfheartedly. Fighting was something they'd all known for a very long time. Something they might be doing again very shortly.

Some unknown killed every zebra here. No wonder it was abandoned. Every corner and turn felt dangerous before seeing all this. Now, they felt positively menacing. Quite logically they'd assumed whoever dragged off Whistler was just another zebra. If there was something else in here, perhaps even more dangerous, they could very well all be in extreme peril.

"You've been awfully quiet, Charger." Sky inquired of him. He hadn't said so much as a single word since they were forced to land.

"Like Sky said, we're here to fight. I want to be fighting, not hiding or running away. " His voice was very deep, and held an almost forlorn quality, perhaps echoing all the hard years of service they'd endured. Several other chiseled tunnels branched off from this enormous room, leading to the assumption there must be many more miles of tunnels beneath the place. Clearly intended to be a hidden meeting place, perhaps it was created by zebra outlaws at some point in the past. Did they even have outlaws or some equivalent? It might never be known. Turning to follow another path that looked like it might head towards where Whistle Stop was continued downwards. How deep was this place?

A few drops of blood here and there were not reassuring, but did gave a clue to the right path. Stepping downwards ever further into the dark, the oppressive atmosphere did nothing to lighten their spirits. After finding their way down to what appeared to be some kind of ancient storage room coated in dust, there was little muffled sound which caused Sky to halt and point ahead to another opening. After quickly positioning themselves they rushed into the room to find Whistle Stop laying on the floor in a pool of blood, gurgling, choking and gagging. There was a slightly deep cut on her throat too.

"Whistler!" Sky knelt beside her and tried to staunch the bleeding from a large gash across her midsection.

The others fanned out in a defensive circle, staring intently off into the flickering shadows for any sign of her kidnapper.

"Give me the flare, quick." Sky told Spectre who passed it over.

"Whistle Stop. Listen to me, keep your eyes open. Can you hear me? You are going into shock. Stay with me now. Eyes up flier! I have to cause you more pain, understand? Do you understand me?" Sky kept asking until she shook her head in understanding. With that Sky torched her wound closed as her muffled agonizing scream caused them all to wince.

It took several moments for her to stop sobbing. Tears welled in both their eyes.

"I'm so sorry Whistler. I'm sorry, there was no choice. You were bleeding out." Sky was shivering over what he'd just done.

She rubbed his foreleg gently. She understood. The cut on her throat was making it difficult for her to speak and tell what happened. The captain stepped in.

"I hate to break this to you, but we need to move. This is going to keep hurting, Whistle Stop. We cannot remain here. Charger, carry her." He ordered. After helping lift her onto Charger's back as she groaned in pain, they began walking back the way they'd come down. It was even slower than before. Each light but jarring step was clearly agony for her, draped as she was over him. From behind there was a sudden bang as Pin Strike fired off a round which ricocheted back down the tunnel.

"Pin Strike, Report!" The Captain whirled as he said it, just in time to see something duck down some previous unseen side passage. He never missed before. It was difficult to make out and fast.

"Something is stalking us. Couldn't hit it. Sorry, sir." He looked terribly annoyed at missing.

"Sharp eye you've got there, Pins. Keep it up and we might even make it out of here." Was all the captain said as he noticed Whistle Stop' terrified expression. Cautiously they crept back towards the large room. Once in it, there was still the matter of locating Marbles.

The decision was made to follow another path that looked like it may lead to where he might have wound up. Marbles did not have any light at all, and could not have moved. Hopefully he'd kept quiet after they were separated and knew to stay still. Carrying Whistler like this was making every step slow and tiring. By this time there was only an hour or so left before the others tried to make a run for home. Home, the word sounded distant and nearly forgotten down here. The sound of their hoof-steps echoing on the rock was not helping matters any. It gave a menacing feeling of giving them away with every strike. Hearts pounding every time they turned a corner was a terrible strain.

The dark ever pressing in and hiding who knows what in its cloak, easily gives rise to apprehension and fear. Here, this fear was justified. Some terrible thing was loosed in these dim halls long ago. Was it because of some act of zebra audacity and impudence? Did they think themselves able to do absolutely anything they felt like with impunity? In this case they clearly paid dearly for their arrogance. Unfortunately the lesson was lost on them. Whatever happened here was certainly long forgotten by zebra kind, buried. Instead of owning up to their error in judgement it was simply pushed out of the collective consciousness. This forgotten pit probably no longer even a passing memory.

Why did they ever have to wind up in this awful place? On into the dark they marched, sidelong glances around confirming all they needed to know. This place was dead, as was everything and everyone which ever strode within it. The very dark felt dangerous, almost a living thing unto itself. Finally, ahead they could see Marbles. Slumped back against the wall, dead. All manner of scrapes and bruises covered his body at every which angle, an empty clip lay on the ground. He was trying to reload. The bit-catch firing mechanism still hanging awkwardly from the side of his shattered muzzle. One of his eyes slightly hung askew from his head. Whatever did that was immensely strong.

Blood which did not seem to be entirely his own was spread everywhere. The captain could not help but let slip a few tears.

"Oh, Marbles. I see you gave them a terrible thrashing. A good fight. You sure earned your rest. May we all go down so hard. See you later, buddy." He brushed the tears away and gave a smart salute, they all did as they walked past. There was no time for more. Grieving was a thing of luxury on the battlefield. It would have to wait for later. If that later would ever come was another matter.

Pin Strike truly did have the best vision of them all. This is saying a lot for a pegasus. If he could barely catch sight of whatever was hunting them down here, the rest would stand little chance without him. Each step into uncertainty another which may be bringing them ever closer to their doom. If they continued to lose ponies at this rate, there would be nothing left of the squadron, to report back on this or anything else. With every furtive glace, this place looked and felt for lack of better terms, evil and dead. The quiet desperate march to escape these depths hopefully went unnoticed. Perhaps Marbles heroic stand against the hunter harmed it seriously enough to stop it coming after them? It might be wishful thinking.

A thought which crossed all their minds as they sought upward paths, paths which were beginning to thin once more. This was going to be a serious problem. The other unspoken problem which plagued them, there may be more than one. Inching their way forward along the terribly thin tunnels finally let them exit out into the cavern once more. Their sighs of relief were short-lived as they announced their return to find only silence and the dying embers of the flare on the ground. The injured were still here. Each with a bullet to their head.

"What in the.." The captain stopped short at seeing Sparks, draped over his radio and torn up badly.

Evidently, he was the one which fired on them. What could have happened here? Sparks wings were definitely being used defensively. It wouldn't have done much good. Only a desperate pegasus would even think to try shielding themselves with their wings. Two of the wounded appeared to have been crawling towards him. The other fell where he'd been shot. Each held a strangely glossy expression. Their guns were dry. Every bullet spent. Where were the other three? Lifting Sparks head up slightly, he surprisingly proved to still be alive despite massive blood-loss. He would bleed out soon. It was already too late to save him.

"Sparks. Sparks, what happened!?" The captain could see in his eyes that something was more wrong than just this. As he sputtered and coughed up blood, he was clearly dying, struggling to speak slowly. The light in his eyes was fading away as he coughed and sputtered. He was barely clinging to life. Blood from multiple parties was here, making it difficult to tell if it was just from these four.

"Captain, you made it. Kind of figured you would, you're just like that. Arrow went crazy out of nowhere. He got this funny look and just snapped. Started...started shooting at everything. Breaker tried to hold him down. They fought. He was crazed, broke loose. Breaker and the rookie went out after him. He didn't care, sir." Sparks was fading away quickly. "As soon as they left, something jumped me. I couldn't get it off. It hurts so much, sir." He heaved and shook violently.

"Sparks! Sparks, come on. Just hold on a little longer. What about the rest? Why did you shoot them?" The captain was badly torn about all this.

His squadron, his friends that depended on him to see them through the war, were dying all around him.

"When I woke up a while ago it was gone. Guess they got it off me, or thought it killed me. I tried to call for help. What I got was..them. They all were acting strange, like they couldn't understand me. They bit me. I was hurt. I had to. I didn't wa.." Gagging, he spat blood on the ground and shivered heavily.

"Easy. It's alright, Sparks. We all understand. You did just fine. Why don't you have yourself a good rest? You're..dismissed." The captain was trying not to let even more tears flow.

Sparks actually smiled and very shakily went to salute as his eyes closed, a final twitch left him still. The captain looked at his longtime second for a brief moment. The others were staring blankly. This was wrong. Everything about it was.

"Spectre, check Wild Eyes kit, see if there are any explosives left." Was the only order he felt like giving anymore. Spectre did as he was told, rifling through the kit for a moment.

"Whoa. How did he get clearance for this!? I mean I knew he was a little crazy but, there is uh, one Octanite cap and timer detonator, sir. Why did he have this? How did he even get it? Was he planning on taking out the entire stripe army by himself? This thing is enough to blow up a whole mountain. There's nothing else." Spectre was not generally a talkative sort, but friendly enough. Like the rest, he was a superb flier who put his life on the line more than once. The rest were just as shocked at finding out Wild Eyes was lugging around a type of experimental explosive. The tiny cap was twenty times more powerful than anything else in the military arsenal.

"It doesn't matter and I don't care how he got it. We need to get gone. The sun will be up in just a few minutes, and we need to report back about this insanity. Everypony outside, now. I will set the cap on a five minute timer and knock this place on top of that..thing, or things. Letting them get out of here would be a real bad idea. Sorry Whistler, we have to move fast." He knew this would hurt her side more. She groaned in response, but knew there was no choice.

"Strap on that radio and clip, Spectre. Signal red distress every ten minutes on all channels. You know what that means. We must get a message back to command." The captain was looking very angry.

This was a look few ponies ever actually saw on his face. Usually it was carried inside. Once all outside he placed the advanced cap and attached the detonator with two unusual looking wires to two clips on either side. There was one more order to give. There was nothing to do for these four. At least, he could give them a truly spectacular burial. He looked at their lifeless forms, taking in all they'd been through together. A moment later he turned to the others.

"This may turn out to be my final order. Once I hit this switch it cannot be stopped, everypony go for home. There are about twenty-three miles between us and safety, and each and every stripe for fifty miles in every direction is probably going to see this. Breaker and the kid will see it too, hopefully they can catch up. No matter what happens or what we encounter, keep moving. Try to stay together. If any of us takes a hit at any point, do not assist. Do not turn back. I have lost enough friends today, but this is more important than any of us, they need to know what downed the squadron and what we found in there." He reached up to tap the enable switch. Once armed they left at as rapid a pace as could be managed.

Five minutes later a rumbling was more felt than heard before a huge concussive wave swept outwards in a circle from the mountainous column of rock. They weren't kidding about how powerful an explosive it was. Even at this distance they felt it push them as they turned to look. The one entire side of the column was collapsing straight downwards as the rest tumbled in atop uncountable tons of rock. Whatever horrible thing was in there would surely have no means of escape now. If the falling rubble did not kill it, it would contain it.

"Pin Strike, keep your eyes glued forward. Charger, Whistler, give me your magazines. I will provide cover if needed." He emptied both and combined them into a full one. All that was left, plus one each for... The ground defense pistols held a surprising 19 rounds when full. Most of the ammo was wasted in the dark. As dawn finally broke the horizon on that final day unknowing, as happy as and welcome as it ever was, this little band ventured forward. Mile after mile they marched at a hard pace. Whistle Stop needed proper medical attention soon. Cresting a gentle hill Pin Strike stopped. So many hours march brought them within six miles of home only to find a horrific sight. The remains of 19 and his flak suit.

"What? It looks like he was split in half by one of our own suit guns, sir." He gasped as he looked around and took in the true scope of this. All but 23 were here, all having crashed practically straight down beside a tall, but not nearly as impressive pile of rock as the last. The attachment from 12th spec ops was not with them. Something was off about this. An odd sound was heard.

"Get down!" Hard Charger yelled and shoved him aside only to have a round pass straight through him, resulting in a fine spray splashing across the others.

As they all hit the ground a damaged flak suit marked 23 could be seen standing and firing the dual guns from above on a ledge with reckless abandon.

"No, Charger! Armor Heart, not you too. It's us, stop shooting! Stop it!" All of them yelling was not doing any good. If this wasn't attracting other attention they would be lucky. They were only able to keep from being hit by squeezing against the bottom of the rock. The suit guns could not be trained downwards any further, having been designed to be used in a slight dive from above.

"Armor Heart, snap out of it!" They kept pleading, but she must be out of her mind.

"Well this is just great. Charger, can you hear me? Say something." Pin Strike called out. Charger wasn't moving. He could not get a bead on the crazed pony above. All the sporadic firing was keeping them pinned. The suit was unlikely to run out of ammo anytime soon. The guns suddenly fell silent as a strange bang rang out. A few seconds later the suit and the pony inside came tumbling down off the ledge to land against the rocks, shattered. A bullet hole was straight through the back of the neck. Looking up, they could just make out the form of Breaker.

"Sorry I'm late, sir." Breaker hobbled down the other side. He looked beaten and battered. Nopony else was with him.

"Where are.." They all went to ask as he shook his head. Great. They'd all been marching for almost twelve hours without any sign of the enemy, only to run across this horror. Where were they all? This area should be crawling with enemy forces. They could not possibly have simply given up? Whistle Stop was in even worse shape, having been tossed aside when they were fired upon.

"Oh for.. Isn't there anything on that radio yet?" The captain looked to Spectre who'd banged into the rocks with the radio when they all dove for cover. It was just dented a little. The radio looked like it'd been through a war by itself. The worn dual whip antennas almost seemed to have a forlorn look of their own. A look that spoke of giving up. The same dense static as before for a moment as he fiddled with settings and tuners. Finally, a dull message punctuated by an odd beep once in a while. A concerning note.

"No. no. We are right there. It's right there! It was all for nothing. All of it." The captain was shaking and threw his gun on the ground.

"Captain? What is it?" The few of them remaining asked.

"Just look up at the sky, and listen. Just listen." Was all he said. The sky did look odd. The radio sometimes cut in with a nearly dead sounding voice repeating and then the odd creepy tone once more. Some missiles could occasionally be seen passing back and forth, leaving trails. They might be out of range here. They might not.

It would be an impressive sight if it didn't mean it was all over.

"C A1 C2 M A L. All pony forces, seek nearest base, shelter or stable immediately. Multiple warhead exchange confirmed. Message repeats..." The captain dropped on his side and started crying and sobbing.

"What have they done!? I couldn't protect them. I couldn't protect anypony. They're all dead. All of them. My squadron, everypony else. Home is gone. Everything is. Forgive me." He shook and moaned. The shock of it was too much to bear. Whistle Stop managed to speak in a wheeze.

"It's not your fault, sir. You did your best. It is too big. There is nothing to forgive, and with all due respect, sir. We are more than happy to die with somepony like you, here at the end." They looked on as the world burned.

Sometimes you just can't win for trying. Do you think the bombs or something else got them?

Sanity's Gate

Where does it come from, that feeling which fleets?, when one has suffered far too many defeats. When all your strength is not enough, and your road is much too rough, when you have finally had enough. You pick yourself up one last time, with no real reason or rhyme. Now running out of time, grasping onto one final line. Will you make it, do you dare, to pull yourself out of your despair? Calling on that which just is not there.

What adds up to no passing hour? What tears asunder once beauteous wildwood flower?
What is it that saps ones power? Be it in rain or thundershower.
What is it that towers so tall?
What is it that makes good things fall?
What is it that spurns ones soul? What is needed to fill that hole?
What is it that makes the cold winds blow? When they shriek and howl ever so low?

What is it hiding in the dark? Be it monster or be it lark?
What is it that takes your treasures away? Who is to say?
What is it that makes such a horrible sound? Echoing across all the ground.
What is it that makes your eyes tear? What is it that fills all with fear?
What is it that makes you feel like you've drowned? Brow knitted into a permanent frown.
What is it that brings us grief? What is it that denies relief?

What is it that makes one pray? In doing so, what is it that makes one pay?
What is it that screams and cries? What is it that dims your eyes?
What is it that makes life's song? What is it that pushes you when you can't go on?
What is it that locks you in? What is it that has stolen away your grin?
What is it that strains your smile? What is it that makes you walk so many a mile?
Finally, perhaps, the end of your trial.

Stars at night, once so bright for me. They have lost their luster, they do not shine. What is it, what crime? Have I portrayed to deserve such unbridled hatred and undying glare of eyes from behind the walls? Voices now echo throughout the halls, within my head, filling me with dread. Despair unneeded, pain no longer heeded. Cursed longing in my heart, I should have listened from the very start. I lost my chance to have spirits needs and find myself begging, cut down just to see. Soon further down now shall I fall, my strength has finally faltered and failed all.

By flickering firelight shadows meet, with their sinewy twining figures treat. All eyes fall upon the ground, at the terrible cracking sound, terror now raining all around. Quiet now, do your ears deceive? They are lying, but you must believe. Wishing now, but it's too short a reprieve. Hope now fleeting and safety torn asunder. Was it your fault, a miserable blunder? You realize what is your task, now you have only but to ask. Reason left far behind, moving forward as though you're blind. A storm arising to meet your stance, now it is your final chance. Will you call life's heroes to your aid? Will your mission be over, your duties paid?

Your heart notwithstanding heavens drums, pain along with pleasure comes. Doth one dare to speak the truth, though ridiculed by those uncouth? Stairways will not take you there, only to dim lighting and despair, pulling forth just one mere ray of hope. Whilst others take bounty, stare and gloat.

Oh magnificent wanderings, once standing in front of placid stream. Seeing things that should only come forth from a pleasant dream, or is it a nightmare hidden inside? To force one to ponder upon their pride. Into horror now taking a slide, all failing strength now set aside. Is it that ones spirit has died? Facing a deal for which another has lied, now time to choose on which side. Will you stand and fight once more, or simply let events occur, without gentle coercion or forceful tact? Only one chance and it is now to act, but a secret pact holding one back, few others can take up the slack. In this void and needing new track, only one is left to react.

Taking up call from shadowed hill, shuddering and it gives no thrill, and from the air now a pounding trill. A horrible shrieking shrill, a thunderous noise unlike any other, turning friend to foe and brother against brother. What hope against this awesome force, is there even any final recourse? The one who all thought vanquished, as if from darkness now recalled. Out from the darkened walls it calls, causing stir in the shattered halls. I watch over something deadly in state, where others would only dare to stare and debate. Oblivious and blinded by hate. What is it, what terrible state? What sets me on this saddening path, bad memories from the past? Events are unfolding much too fast.

Making one feel as though outcast, by some throng of stranded crowd, screaming oh so terribly loud? Their futile screams echoing down through time, they were so proud, their voices echo loud. Pounded on by thundercloud, the mysteries hidden in veiled shroud. Now I fall to bended knee, strength fleeting and leaving me, my eyes so dim I can barely see. Why did I throw myself to such a fate? Had I felt myself to be so great? To be unmoved as mountain stones in my resolve? Some questions left unsolved. I felt the universe around me revolved, but then shattered came my immortal soul. I know not what caused this crippling hole.

Driven to reverse my role, and try to destroy that which I swore could never be stole. I know not what is growing in my heart, something deep inside now tearing me apart. I do not know even where to start. To try and regain that which I’ve lost, that purity of spirit which was the cost. My station and duty here, hidden by silent yearnings for so many an unbending and unrelenting year. Ever driving me onward, I gave into fear. I do not know how long I can last, it is finally time to reclaim my past. Onward I am beckoned, I must go. Comfort away to the wind, I must know. I shall resume my stewardship by Sanity's Gate, for the hour I have let grow far too late.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Echoing Laughter

"Boss, why?" The whimpering dull brown-coated earth pony quivering before him asked. He'd been thrown a couple meters aside with a single blow. He lay there in such pain. To others he might have seemed strong. Amongst the band of raiders, one of their weakest. The rarely heard voice of their leader grated so terribly, in some fashion defying description. It made him feel itchy all over, his fur almost rippling in response.

"You ask why? Then I shall tell you." His voice sounded..louder? More menacing than ever before.

"Our dead world cries out in pain. The rubble, the rock, and the stone. It all lies broken. The fallen ghosts are calling. A call which still goes unanswered. Courage and reason lost their course. None step forth to answer this call. Everything left to ruins. Faded and torn. I shall correct this." Hearing this sent chills along the injured raiders spine as that terrible voice rang in his head.

"The end came, taking the mighty armies of old with it. The scalded ground tortured, tormented for endless quiet moments ever since. Their hoofprints once spread across all of Equestria. The marks of their supremacy lay all but forgotten. Even from on high they fell, their pride torn from them. Great achievements they once crafted. All for naught." It hurt so much to listen to this deathly voice. Boss was a violent terror and strict leader, but this was something new. He'd never spoken or acted this way this before as far as he knew.

"Blistered, surviving rent and cracked pavement might give you the impression that long ago, so long ago, they had knowledge and the power to use it. A scorpions sting would have been far more pleasant. Mere poison you have some chance to survive. This dead world of ours is far worse. Those with so much knowledge and power did not have the foresight to gird themselves against their end." What was he talking about? Why was his voice so much stronger, more dangerous sounding than before?

"In their vanity they stood with heads held high until the very last second. How surprised they must have been to find themselves so powerless in the face of the inevitable. Perhaps they were cowards at heart, unwilling to do what was necessary. Did you know the ponies actually won the great war? In victory, they lost." The war? Everypony heard something of it, but what was this about? This was creeping out the raider. His heavy barding was cracked from that one blow. He knew Boss was very strong, raiders would not follow him otherwise, but was he truly this powerful? How would he know this stuff?

"Boss, I don't understand." It was all he could do to answer as he quivered, laying there.

"How weak could they possibly have been? Some dragged the very stars and planets across the heavens every day and still they fell. Where are the mighty now? They do not even have a grave to mark their passing. That is how worthless they all proved to be. You want to know why I stand angered?" The raiders ears laid back against his head as he stared up at their leader, he couldn't help it. Something just felt wrong about this.

"Stand." Boss ordered. It hurt so badly, but there was no choice or he would surely die right now.

Groaning he got to his hooves, shaking.

"Was that difficult for you? Does it hurt? Are you angry? Do not lie." Boss was surely tormenting him. He really was angered by it, he'd done nothing against their leader.

"Yes. Yes." He panted through the pain and gritted teeth.

"Yet you are standing. Well done. Make the pain your ally. Let this anger consume your mind and enrage you. Feel it coursing through you in all its intensity." Boss was speaking so strangely. What did he mean?

Why would he want him to do this?

"Now, strike me." Boss ordered. What? Strike him? Did he want to die? What was happening here?

"Boss, what.." He found himself laying on his side, having had his legs swept out from under him, smacking his head off the ground. He lay there groaning, holding a hoof to his head where it hit. So much pain.

"I gave you an order. Obey it. Stand." Boss told him again. The searing pain in his head was so bad as a little blood trickled from his mouth. Shaking even more than before he stood up. He felt like he was dying.

Was he really going to kill him? Why tell him anything at all if that was so?

"Angry? Hurting? Does it sear your insides? Feel all that hatred rising up within. Strike. Ball all that misery up and hit me as hard as you are able." That terrifically dark voice was making his head hurt even worse. Boss was right behind him. If he was going to die anyway he might as well do what he was told. If Boss wanted to die, then fine. Gathering all his strength he bucked Boss directly in the chest and.. Boss didn't move an inch, or at all. It was like landing from too far above onto a solid surface. The impact of his hooves did nothing except send pain back into himself. It made him yelp and fall on his stomach.

It wasn't possible. Boss should be dead. A shot like that should have killed anypony. Broken a bone, something. He didn't move, or even flinch. It just could not be.

"How does it feel? Knowing how powerless you are? How futile your anger and rage?" Boss tone sounded even darker than it already did. He was hurting so horribly now. That voice seemed to be making him angrier and angrier. So angry the pain seemed to be subsiding. He stood again without being told.

"I see you begin to understand. This lesson is over." With that Boss turned and left. A deep, dark and hollow sounding laugh seemed to follow him.

What did we learn exactly?

Redline Overload

War End:

"Where are those missiles going to impact!? Give me a path. Come on, navigator, I need to know which way to go to steer clear of the blasts!" An off-color orange-coated pegasi stallion in the pilot seat of this unusual vehicle was panicking after the comms systems lit up with command chatter issuing urgent warnings of incoming missiles.

"I know, I'm trying! Uhh..you need to head...northeast now! Turn for bearing 48. Oh, I don't like this." A rather petite yellow pegasus mare was desperately looking at a trajectory map in hear rear-facing seat, punching at buttons hurriedly.

"Command, this is G-6. What are my orders!? Should we head for Clouds..dale....no.." The pilot was careening their odd prototype skycraft away from potential impact sites as they both looked up to see a missile passing by them directly overhead. It was going straight towards the city.

"Turn for bearing 69 and punch us out of here right now! Pilot!? Pilot, turn right now or we'll be caught in the blast!" The navigator was screaming into her headset. He finally took the action at her behest.

"Where can we go!? I can't keep this up forever. We need a safe place to land, fast!" The pilot was terribly rattled.

They'd been out on a routine test flight of this prototype craft, and now suddenly the world was falling apart.

"There's.. there's an old abandoned underground hangar in Manehattan. Maybe..maybe it'd provide some protection? If we can land in time. There's.. nowhere else to go." The navigator was breathing heavily, nearly hyperventilating.

"Get us there. Do we still have a route?" The pilot questioned. She wasn't answering.

"Navigator, respond now or so help me.." He rocked the controls side to side making them sway heavily. That got her attention.

"Where? Now." He ordered.

"Y..yes, sir. Snap to bearing 78 and hold. There's..there will be a..m..missile heading for another target. We should miss it. We might be able to land at the hangar at these coordinates, but we'll have to make it inside fast. Can..can you land at.. at air speed?" She asked.

"At speed? Oh, you have got be ki..you're not kidding, are you? I hope this things landing dampers work real frigging good." He grunted and jammed the throttles as far forward as they would go.

The craft vibrated wildly as it reached a speed no other craft build to date could match.

"Just hold together, baby. Come on. This is what you were built for. Be good for daddy." He was muttering to the console.

"What are you saying up there? Be careful, are you trying to tear this thing apart? We need to come in at bearing 82 now and line up with an old landing nav marker to have a shot at making it inside in time." The navigator gave course instructions as they went.

"She can take it. I know she can take it. How long until approach?" He was focusing so intently on the controls. He was unquestionably a great pilot. Selected as a test pilot for his quick thinking and reaction times. His track record was nearly unblemished save for a few near-misses.

"Have you ever landed at this speed before?" The navigator was shivering in her seat. He hesitated a moment before answering her question. The pilot a deep breath.

"Yes. Yes I have." Was his terse reply.

"Why doesn't that sound very encouraging?" She gulped.

"Don't worry about it. We'll make it. You just better be right about this place or it's not going to make much difference whether we do or not." As he finished speaking a blipping buzzing alarm went off.

"Engine 2 is getting too hot. You're pushing it too hard. Ease up a little." The navigator continued to give directional info.

"Ease up? We are going to be wiped off the face of Equestria if we don't land ahead of those blasts. Any closer to the last one and we would have lost the engines. No amount of shielding can protect against that. If there's any surprises ahead we are done for." It was blunt of him, but true. If they didn't get inside somewhere resistant to both the blasts themselves and hardened against multiple forms of radiation they were surely finished. It was nothing but bad luck they were out on a test flight when it happened. The craft shuddered under the strain.

"You can take it. You can take it. Just do this for me. You won't be going anywhere for a long long time after this." He pat the console.

"You always were weird." The navigator joked.

"You know that's why ya love me. You do love me, right?" He asked with a coy tone.

"You know it's against the rules..I guess they don't matter now, do they? Of course I love you. At least we're together now." She sighed.

"Strip to down hangar straight ahead. Lock your run attitude on my mark, and get ready to bail. 3, 2, 1, Mark." She inhaled sharply as they dipped towards the thin hidden landing strip near the northern coast of Manehattan. It was always a difficult approach which was a major reason why the place was eventually mothballed.

"Do you see it, hun?" She was feeling sick to her stomach.

"I got it. I got it. Hang on. Looks like the hangar doors were removed. It's a straight run. We can probably slip right in. Contact with ground in 4." He said.

Three seconds later he eased the craft down against the strip at a massive rate of speed with a terrible squeal. They were going to run out of runway very rapidly.

"Full reverse thrusters." He yelped. The craft shivered and shook from the heavy landing at pace, wobbling down the runway barely under his control. By the time it stopped it was inside the open hangar bay.

"Good girl." He pet the console, popped off his harness rigging and climbed out.

"Move, move!" He yelled as the navigator made her way out of the cockpit as well. They ran for the inner doors of the old hangar. Hopefully, it would provide them some protection against what was to come.

That was quite a rush, wasn't it? Heart pumping and pounding yet? Beating hard in your chest? At least you still have yours.

Downwards

Deseret tried to walk alongside her mother. The rest tried to walk as well. They should be flying, but they weren't. They certainly wanted to. The few remaining Breezies found themselves in almost as much danger as they left behind. Escaping their dying world meant little if they all simply died here instead. They muttered and grumbled back and forth in their unique tongue.

"We..can't get off the ground. I can hardly lift my wings. None of us can. It feels like something is dragging us down, but there's nothing. Maybe coming here was a mistake." The former servant of the Queen looked resigned and forlorn, as they all did.

What other choice was there, though? He huffed heavily as they tried desperately to find aid. Without the sun, moon or stars to aid them, there was little choice but to choose a direction and walk. Dragging their impossibly heavy feeling wings behind them. Hopefully they'd chosen the right direction to go. Being unable to fly like this would make any task vastly more dangerous for them and take immensely longer. Passing through the collapsing portal left them in no safe haven, and even stranded them in a strange situation. Even their antennae felt way too heavy.

"Mommy, why can't we fly? My wings feel so heavy." Deseret asked her mother.

She was one of only three children in their group. For all they knew the entire rest of their kind were quite possibly dead now.

"I don't know. Try not to be scared, okay? At least your father is here. I was so worried." She spoke in a wearied hush. They'd been walking for hours. Each step felt so ridiculously heavy as they dragged themselves forward in a shuffle. It was too difficult to really lift their hooves. Why was it like this here? Wherever here was. It looked wrong, and felt wrong. Was this really Equestria? All of them only knew stories of what was, from nearly two centuries ago.

"Hey, aren't you one of the flight commanders? Shouldn't you be the one leading us?" One of the group asked of a gangly lithe blue-coated fellow wearing a black-frilled flight suit. Even for one of them he was rather thin looking.

"Ha. Sorry, we were only an honor guard. We just did flight stunts and whirlwind dances! In the old days we would have headed pollen collection teams in this place, sometimes, probably." His head drooped like it weighed too much and sighed deeply.

"Well okay, but doesn't that still make you the one here with the most experience doing anything like this?" Another one asked. He took a deep breath.

"Look, all we have are stories. They might not even be true. How do we know? This is going to sound brutal, but there might not even be any ponies left alive to tell us or help us either. All we can do right now is keep moving forward and try to get out of whatever this is." He made a bit of a sad trilling noise of some sort and trudged on. The flight commander was probably a bit more rough-edged than the rest of them, but he clearly felt his status meant he should be able to help the rest more. This was far beyond any of them. Why did they feel so heavy? It was like the very ground was tugging them down towards it. This was just wrong.

Wherever they'd come out of that particular portal dropped them into some terrible misery. Would it have been better to stay and die at home? Each would not quite admit to having this thought. It didn't matter, they were here now. The only choice was to drag themselves forward and hope to encounter some friendly face. For the first few moments they hadn't noticed the odd downward pull. It quickly became apparent it was there, tiring them out rapidly. None knew or would dare to guess what might happen if they stayed in this for too long. This was so horribly tiring. Like dragging some unseen weight. An invisible force pressing down from above, or perhaps pulling from below. What could it be?

This was like nothing in any of the stories. Was this place always like this? That seemed unlikely. If it was it would surely have been mentioned. This was interminable and unbearable. The tedium of each dragging step was beyond any tiredness any of them ever experienced. It was death, surely? Approaching with no regard for their plight. Bearing down as some heartless darkness to rob what little hope was left.

"Mommy, I want to go home." Deseret sniffled and tears fell.

"I wish we could. Hang on. We have to keep walking, okay? Stay close to me." Her mother knew no better what to do than the rest. This was bad. Worse than anything she'd imagined might greet them here.

Some of the group were practically being dragged along by the others. Some time later the lone flight commander halted them all.

"Stop. All of you stop now. As much as it is probably a bad idea we have to break for a little bit. Over half of us are almost collapsing as it is. All of you, rest a while. Just keep your eyes open for anything dangerous." He waved them all to rest. His assessment was correct. They all practically fell to the ground exhausted and panting. Almost all of the group fell asleep for a little over two hours. At that time he went around to wake them all. Every one was very groggy.

One of them wouldn't wake up.

"Miss? Come on, miss. We have to go. Miss?" The others looked on as he tried to rouse her for a couple moments. He shivered and looked around.

"She..she's dead." He swallowed hard. The rest let out a gasp of horror at the realization. He took on a stern expression.

"Pay your respects, and then we have to get going again now. She's gone, but the rest of us are still here." He walked on ahead so the others couldn't see him crying.

The sheer gravity of the situation is dire, wouldn't you say?

Cold Storage

'And every time we touch the closer we become

So while the heavens sunder, I do sit and wonder

Wherever do we go from here?' -

Wartime:

Dead and dying ponies and zebra, even some griffons and dragons alike lay strewn across the battlefield this day. This horrific, terrifying day. His heart pounding harder and harder, faster. Looking out over this mass grave. It could now be described as nothing else. The carnage was so over the top it was not possible to deal with. Firing, screaming, crying on the wind of the living and dying alike from both sides ringing in his ears. No more. Make it stop. This must stop. The stench of charred flesh, pools of blood and gore soaking the ground around him. Somepony make it stop. As far as could be seen, the fighting was ceaseless. The young lieutenant shook. Rows upon rows of wounded lay behind. Stop it.

They could not lose this line. If they were pushed back any further by the merciless zebra horde at this moment, the remainder of the force would be destroyed entirely. There were so few of them left able to even stand. His head hurt so bad from the still bleeding gash across his brow. Stop. So angry. Nearly his entire company was bedraggled and barely able to fight on any longer. His friends slaughtered. Some right in front of his very eyes. So much blood. It hurts. How long? What day was this? It never stopped. It just would not stop. It would never stop. Why do they keep fighting? It must end! It must! Whatever it takes.

"Captain?" He startled from this tremulous terrible memory to find himself standing and staring at a mechanical console. He felt, and was, a lifetime older now. He blinked a couple times as it resolved clearly. A strangely designed pony construct was conversing with him. Perhaps it was good he'd been startled out of such thoughts and recollections. They still hurt very badly, even here and now. Far away from the chaos of battle. Even after all this time. What happened, when he...

"Yes? All set?" The Captain inquired. This was going to fix it. This was going to make it all right again. Everything. Surely, this would put an end to all the horror and injustice he'd witnessed during the war so far.

"Captain, I must once again strongly recommend against this. The princess likely forbade this line of research for good reason. My internal data suggests it is not ready for deployment. I must also stress that utilizing an unofficial spark reactor may have unforeseeable consequences." An auton with an entirely disconcerting voice stated.

"It is probable neither of them even remember any of this. If we can make this work, the war essentially ends tomorrow. It would give us such a huge tactical advantage on the ground it would be over inside a week. Continue." The Captain was blunt in his mannerisms and actions.

"Declaration: Unit disagrees. Engaging safety conduit overrides. Provisional power converters cycling up. Generator is steady. Awaiting E.T.S. test go ahead. Confirm, Captain?" the Equioid model-20/40 stated as its head tilted to and fro on an odd triaxial neck consisting of three short pillar-like structures attached to a squat, somewhat rounded equine shaped body. The voice held a strange triple-note quality that was difficult to quantify or become familiar with. A marvel of modern technology, the auton so far functioned and performed flawlessly in the research capacity it was assigned.

Occasionally it's head would disconcertingly turn entirely around or spin to face upside down, focusing its attention anywhere or in on test materials using one of the three varied length shafts which served as its eyes upon a vaguely ball-shaped head. So far it proved to be a great boon for the scientific team stationed here. The project itself did not get much attention, but was funded well enough. Up until the last incident. One which attracted the attention of the royal sisters themselves. It took a long time, but the Captain got it all moved here. Far out of sight, and mind. He gave the go ahead and the auton blipped, pushing a button.

Power streamed into the experiment chamber before them, behind a thick regenerative glass window. At first all seemed well. This was good. How quickly it went wrong in that instant. Anyone that has found themselves in a dangerous situation knows how fast this kind of thing happens. A warning alarm sounded from the console as something fizzled in one of the experiment rooms main panels, causing a shower of sparks to be thrown off a gated platform behind the safety glass chiseled into the rock to separate the rooms, the small scientific staff jumped away from their stations.

Emergency lights flickered on and spun as empowered flames shot from the numerous power shunts lining the rock and steel walls into the huge enclosed chamber, knocking over a desk radio which powered on to the base internal amusement channel with a voice saying:

"Only 175 days left! Can our intrepid space explorers succeed? Find out on the next exciting episode of the Star Grazers radio pl.." The voice abruptly ceased as the internal entertainment radio went off-air, the attached wire burnt. The sound gurgled and disturbingly cut off as it melted. An acrid smell permeated the air as the smoke spread rapidly.

Burning equipment along with frying wires sizzled and popped. In a mere moment this place found itself shrouded in sheer bedlam. Something let out a terrific grinding, cracking sound in the experiment chamber then died out. During all this the research team was trying to regain control of the equipment, now operating dangerously. A secondary alarm began sounding in the immediate area. One piece of scientific apparatus quickly engulfed itself completely in flames. It was already spreading quickly across the various pieces of equipment, almost leaping. The fire got so intense so rapidly that none could have reacted to it immediately.

"Cut the power!" Their Captain was yelling as a weird dull thudding sound made itself known from somewhere far off, indeterminate. The various research personnel tried to shut off the machines they could reach. One of them hammered on the controls of the main consoles.

"I..I can't shut down the experiment rig. A cascading power surge is somehow feeding back from the main generator through the backup connections. Calls to both control and gen rooms are not being answered or getting through the intercom system. We cannot reach the power override controls from in here!' The staff were doing their best to contend with the fires and broken equipment.

Why wasn't the power room responding to calls to shut down the machinery? Could they have been attacked? It was unlikely, hidden as they were in this place. A quick flicker of the overhead lights lent an air of further urgency to the moment. A quivering stuttering noise blared from the distant P.A. system and quickly silenced. Was somepony trying to announce something? There was no time to care about what that might have been.

"Pipe down. 20/40, extinguish the fires." The extraordinarily handsome light brown-coated earth pony stallion with deep, oddly reflective magenta eyes ordered.

As a Captain it was required, but even so he was a very cool and collected customer. They'd never seen him angered or upset in any way by just about anything, save once. The robotic oddity blipped and headed towards a side wall panel that allowed a large rack to rapidly slide out around it, filled with a preponderance of tools and utilities. Odd mechanical spidery looking arms quickly outkitted the Equioid unit with firefighting accessories. They'd thought of everything. The lengthy rack retracted into the rock wall and closed to protect the contents. 20/40 roamed the room making short work of the numerous small blazes. The fires were put out in no time at all. The science team sighed in relief as the last of the flames died down.

Some damage to the experiment control panels was one thing, but a fire raging out of control in a confined space like this would be a very bad thing. Unlike the rest of the place this area was behind an airtight bulkhead and a cleanroom to facilitate the experiments being performed here. Every pony entering or leaving underwent decontamination spraying. While 20/40 went about fulfilling its orders and putting out the last of the smoking consoles an odd crackling noise filtered through the area as what looked like a little black orb with sparks flying off it in all directions formed midair above them and shot into the far wall.

It wobbled in and out of existence as it spun with what looked like tiny stars within it, then vanished completely as it shattered against the rock. Even the auton halted for a second to twirl its head towards it. It was gone too fast for the unit to make any kind of useful analysis.

"What in the hay was that!?" Somepony yelped. Everyone else was shaking their heads in confusion. Did that have something to do with the experiment chamber fritzing? None of them knew an answer to this question. They were confused by all this, almost dazed.

The mere presence of the odd orb somehow left them all feeling a little sickly for a short period. Whatever it was disappeared as quickly as it arrived. What could all that possibly have been? No time to figure that out right now. The first order of business was to get out of this confined space and determine their current situation. Very few were privy to the exact location of this particular room or what it held. 20/40 was actually tasked with initially constructing it. In all only those present right now knew where it was. If they had been unable to bring the flames under control so quickly they may all have died right here or been trapped for possibly hours or more before even a single other pony would think anything to be wrong and come looking.

Now that the room itself was under control they all chose to ditch the lab coats which they'd all been wearing. The coats were minorly resistant to a large array of things, but would only hold up against certain things for any extended period of time. A true hazmat suit hung just outside the currently malfunctioning door. Left there under the expectation it would not be needed today. After all, this was only supposed to be a shielded test run of the experiment. Something clearly went off the rails somewhere. The main exit door was air-sealed and powered by the secret facility generator. It constantly slammed open and closed as energy pulsed through it.

"20/40, ignore everything else and get that door locked into an open position." His further orders were quickly followed as it stepped in front of the extension rack again to be outkitted with torches and wiring manipulation tools while the firefighting apparatus was removed. The rack retracted once again to seal itself in its secure vault in the rock wall. The Equioid went to work. Swiftly and deftly it cut open panels and rewired the door mechanism. The door slid open and stopped with a solid whoosh and thunking sound.

"Good work, 20/40." It thanked the Captain for the words, asking for further orders.

It was always surprising to hear it remark pleasantries. Otherwise this situation was grim. They did not know what was happening in the generator room located a few floors below. The Captain pushed the intercom switch.

"Power room. You have to shut down the generator at all costs, report!" He yelled into the comms panel. A horrible hissing response which sounded like crackling and sizzling was what met his ears and an entirely eerie whisper which sounded for all the world like a pony begging. It was impossible to tell if he'd really heard that through the fritzing panel. He blinked. This suddenly felt all wrong somehow. What was this feeling? It was foreign to him.

"All of you, weapons at the ready. We may be under siege. We must all make our way to either the control room or the generator room. You three with me. You three go for the genny. Do not use the lifts as the power is questionable. Shut it down, whatever you have to do make it happen. Exercise extreme caution." His orders were clear. They all responded with a resounding "Sir!" and salute. They were all scientists, but soldiers first. An unnoticed thing happened during this confusion, a strange quick burst of shadowy light seemed to flash from the gated platform then ceased.

"I don't like this. There are at least three guards stationed down there, and at least two on the levels above us along with other personnel throughout. None have reported in after the alarm and no one else is responding." He informed the others and turned to the auton while the first squad rushed out to make their way down towards the apparently out of control generator.

"20/40, outfit for possible heavy combat operations, include full clips of magic inhibitor rounds. All the ammo you can carry." It beeped at his words, whirring as the rack extended at its behest once more.

The sides of this robotic marvel slid open to receive ammunition packs as scientific equipment was removed to be replaced by targeting and combat apparatus. A softly glowing cylindrical object could just be made out inside. The sides closed and locked shut while three large caliber weapons were bolted onto its squat frame in various places.

"Sir, I must remind this unit is not a combat model." It said. Now the Equioid presented as much less friendly in appearance, a machine ready for war. It carried a 10mm conventional rotary cannon on the right side, the left a grenade launcher below, and an A.D.F. generator line stack geared to its unique systems.

Two vents along its back now emitted a fair amount of continuous heat almost hot enough to be seen, with yellow warning labels along the undersides with stark lettering stating 'EXTREMELY HOT'. Its head and neck pillars spun to face the Captain.

"Verbal warning: Unicorns not to touch unit at any time during combat operations. Serious energetics backlash may occur. Stand well clear of weapon ejection ports. Orders?" The trinote voice was not something one could ever quite get used to.

"Mission priority is to escort me and my squad to the control room, secondary is to shut down or disable the generator. Determine enemy disposition if possible en route. Engage targets only if necessary in a defensive manner." The Captain was always a levelheaded and cool customer, much like the auton to which he was now giving orders. The three pony squad formed up behind their Captain and the unusual auton. These three knew him and his demeanor well. Through battle after battle they'd stood by him, and each knew what terror and horrors they may face if their enemies were truly here. They joked with him, sometimes even argued with him, but they always obeyed his orders because they knew.

They knew, after the last time. Their much celebrated Captain would get them home alive, as he would now, or he would not allow himself to make it back either. He'd seen enough of the front lines. Too respected to be dismissed outright from duty and unable to face it any longer, he found himself given a smaller role in the background of things. How he wound up in this place. They followed him here willingly, choosing to forgo frontline combat in hopes of finding something more useful through scientific pursuit.

"Captain, must that thing come with us? It kind of creeps us all out as it is." A rather gaunt looking unicorn whom they all called Burner remarked. He had an unhealthy obsession with incinerating things, on purpose or not. Before he could respond, the auton interrupted.

"I apologize if my outward appearance is disconcerting. I did not have a role in my own design." The soldier felt uncomfortable, and like he'd been rebuked in some way by these words. Close quarters are never a good place to fight in or through. This place, however, was rather cavernous for reasons not yet disclosed to any.

The Captain held grand plans for this dismal place far out of sight and nearly forgotten. They stepped out through the now useless cleanroom. A strange sense of foreboding seemed to cling to the air down in this place. The size was nearly palatial in scope. To most it looked simply like a bunch of oddly wide tunnels forced through the rock, and far more than tall enough for ponies to easily traverse. There was a lot of metal available as flooring and used as such. Drilling down this far took a long time and much planning. Metal and gem ore to mine were the two things not in short supply in Equestria anymore.

One of the security checkpoints lay down the opposite end of this particular very long hallway, lined by several oversize lifts intended for heavy loads. Closer scrutiny of the station did not increase confidence. Bullet casings lay scattered across the entire area. There was no sign of the security services patrol guard. To keep this place more a secret, few regulars were called in for guard duty. His weapon lay on the ground, amidst several entirely spent magazines. There seemed little to no indication of what actually went on here. They'd heard nothing, but they were otherwise occupied when the experiment went awry.

"20/40, area assessment?" The Captain ordered. This strange machine was nearly silent as it moved, a disquieting thing in itself. After a moment it spoke in that somewhat creepy tone as its head twisted and turned to and fro.

"Observation: Threat indeterminate. Firing pattern indicates multiple hostiles engaged from improbable directions. Conclusion: Extreme danger. Advise: summon reinforcements as soon as possible. Note: There is no blood in the vicinity." It ceased speaking and its head spun upwards to stop in a slight bounce. The group all looked up to quickly reach the eerie realization there were bullets embedded in the rock above as well. Why would he be firing upwards?

The guard could very well still be alive somewhere, but did he even hit anything during the fight? What could possibly have happened? The guards assigned here were not the sort to miss their targets or fire wildly.

"Hey, anypony notice we didn't hear anything? That kind of noise should have echoed through this whole place no matter how far away it was, right?" Said one of the squad, speaking around the bit-catch firing mechanism of his weapon, it dangled just enough to allow him to speak and lent a muffled quality to his voice that might even have been amusing if the situation were otherwise.

"Alright, I don't like it either. Keep it together, boys. We've been here before. Our enemies are brutal, clever buggers that use any possible dirty trick you can't think of. This is probably just more of the same. Keep moving and your eyes peeled. We all know what walking into one of their ambushes is like. We make a beeline for the control room, no matter what." He spoke, cool as ever. Only that one time did they ever see him otherwise.

"20/40, can you get any kind of radio signal down here at all? The hardwired intercoms are not operable with the genny going crazy." The Captain always remained so calm one might question his sanity if they did not know him very well.

"Surrounding rock massively cuts range, cycling frequencies." The auton whirred and continued to spin its head about at any odd angle. It turned on its own internal radio followed by a blip and static issued from what served as its mouth, punctuated by odd bits of scattered echoing that almost sounded like voices that were just too vague to make out. The squad listened intently as it clattered.

"One signal detected. Faint. Switching to internal comms. This is 20/40, science attache unit actual. Any receiving ponies respond." It stated.

A single very strained sounding voice barely registered in return through the mess of hissing and crackling.

"Specialist Fire Brand here!.... T...... corridor 6-C.. that you, Buck? Thank heavens, we've got........ s....Breaking up... N... support.. Get us out of here!.. They're....... Now....... What in.." A loud bursting crackle followed by constant silence was all that followed.

"Specialist Fire Brand, if you are receiving, a support squad is already en route. If you can hear this, hunker down if possible and fortify your position. Acknowledge?" The Captain told the auton to relay the message.

There was no further response.

"Signal interference rapidly increasing. Possible jamming present." The auton continued forward towards the circular stairs carved through the rock, leading up to the next level. The squad followed, feeling something amiss the whole time. Like the very air were about to attack them. It just did not feel right. All soldiers with any time spent in the field where they might be dropped at any second quickly come to know, when this feeling is present, trust it. The nature of their enemy unknown, they made pace towards the next set of stairs.

The weird layout of this place always seemed off, but the Captain assured them since arriving here there was a good reason for it that he never quite revealed.

"Without the lifts, sec-station two is a hard walk ahead. We cannot afford to lose this facility to the enemy even for a moment. Keep moving." The Captain said as they emerged into what was a nearly identical layout as the floor below. The squad fell in behind the strange auton on this level. The walk was indeed long, using the lifts would cut the time in half. This could not be done with the generator acting as it was.

They could very well take a lift and become trapped between floors.

"It's too bad we don't have any spark batteries left. It would make short work of safely going up or down." The pony following farthest behind mentioned. Unfortunately the entire supply was tied into the malfunctioning experiment consoles as backup and support power, they all burst when the generator surged so strangely. Looking down the large hallway lit occasionally by ensconced lamps and tracks, the third squad member stopped.

"Halt!" He yipped and raised his weapon. The others stopped and looked on in confusion. Nothing was there.

"What are you on about, Grevist?" The Captain asked.

"I know I saw something there. I know I did." Grevist shook his head.

"Don't get cross-eyed now. We didn't see anything. You aren't getting funny in the head on us, are you? Enough ponies have gone mad throughout this miserable war already without you joining them." High Stepper chimed in. As with most of those now in military service, he was a pony in very good physical shape. A comely, slick looking partygoer, popular with the mares before being drawn into the thick of things like many of them were.

He still held his fun-loving attitude despite things. It did usually help to keep their spirits up.

"Can it, Stepper. Nopony is going insane on my watch, but you might want to slow up and look ahead." The Captain motioned forward as they finally approached sec-station two. This place was huge. They'd been walking for a near half hour at pace to get here. Déjà vu. The auton, remaining silent until now, spoke.

"Captain." Before it could say more he bid it stop.

"I know. This is looking bad, boys." They all looked around the station, it was an exact repeat of whatever happened below.

How could their enemies have moved this far and fast down here, anyway? It was too quick. Impossibly so. The guards never reported anything amiss. Their very first reaction would have been to raise the intruder alarm. Surely they could not have all been taken completely unaware? The auton steadily walked on. It would follow the orders given it implicitly until completed or it was destroyed. Now, the further they trot upwards within this dim place, the more it felt as if eyes unseen were following. Another staircase hewn through the rock, not generally intended to be used at all unless a lift or two needed service. These makeshift staircases were so far apart.

"One more level to the control room. Perhaps we can finally find out what madness is going on from there. 20/40, Attempt to make radio contact with control every 5 minutes." The Captain was a truly cool-headed individual most of the time. This appeared no different, his speech airy and confident.

"Understood. Interference still present. Chances of contact before arrival: 26.7%" Its silent steps seemed unusual. It was designed to be quiet and normally unintimidating. Bearing the weapons it did right now, though.. It was a beastly construct. Something which could easily dish out immense amounts of damage if called upon to do so.

"Say, 20/40, have you ever actually been in a fight?" The smallest member of the squad inquired. Its head spun around backwards to address him as it continued walking forwards. Okay, that was just a bit creepy.

"Unit was given extensive field and combat testing by Equestrian Innovations Spark Sciences Division during defense campaign Vanh..redacted. Negative, unit has not engaged in active combat." Its head spun back around and the auton continued walking. What?

"Come on, you bucket of bolts. Have you or have you not shot at a zebra before?" Stepper was asking now.

"Unit designation 20/40, unable to comply with information request." Was its only response. What in the world?

"Captain, what's with this..uh, guy, all of a sudden? Seemed more than talkative enough all the time before." They all were curious now.

"20/40, command authorization 1404ghx blue. Answer the question." The Captain was unsure what this was either. It issued an odd string of beeping and blips none ever heard before as they continued to trot towards the command room.

"Command authority of..Nudgers, Buck. Accepted. Response: Information Classified." It almost seemed 20/40 was purposely avoiding answering.

"20/40, explain. I am the commanding officer present." Buck ordered.

"Information request denied. Warning: Further attempts to access information will result in command authority termination." Its trinote voice almost seemed to hold an air of desperation. That could not be.

"Whoa there, 20/40. It was just a question. Forget it. Continue on-mission." The squad and the Captain exchanged concerned glances. What was that all about? Being denied information this basic seemed at odds with his rank and position here. Why would a science assistant auton have been instructed to withhold something so simple? It made little sense.

The question was ridiculously simplistic. He would have to ask command what was going on when possible. Right now it was far more important to determine their actual situation. That bad feeling was not lifting. If anything it was getting worse. The sheer wrong feeling was becoming overwhelming. This was not right. Some unseen presence felt at every step. The place was well lit from overhead tracks of long enhanced stretches of lighting. Even without external power the specialized magi-light tracks lining the rock and steel ceilings could run for nearly ten years unattended. He made sure this place was well-equipped. Even at a brisk pace, It would take at least another half hour to reach the control room.

The long walk felt more and more like it was getting harder and more stressing.

"Sir, is it just me or is it getting difficult to keep moving forward? I don't feel right." The entire squad agreed. They all were starting to feel fearful and hemmed in. As impossible as it was, like many eyes were upon them. The Captain snapped at them.

"Get it together!" he yelled quite loudly, making them all jump. That brought them back from whatever that was.

"Captain, wh.." High Stepper went to ask, he did not get the chance to finish as 20/40 interrupted him.

"Sensory inputs detecting numerous apparent life signatures approaching at unusual speed. Hostile intent probable." The powerful cannon mounted on it began to spin up in preparation. The overhead lights lining the hallways dimmed and flickered in and out. The generator was still out of control. It should not be affecting the lights this way, though. The other squad should have been there by now.

"Where are they? How close and how many, 20/40?" the Captain asked.

"Unknown. Off-scale. Everywhere." It replied, its head twisting about. Everywhere? Off-scale? What did it mean by that?

The other member of the squad, a usually reserved and quiet individual interjected.

"Incoming!" They all hit the floor, ready to fire as something flitted towards them far down the long and wide hallway beneath flicking lights. 20/40 spun and tilted its head forwards, targeting as it began firing down the hall, unleashing a veritable hailstorm of bullets. a pile of spent shell casings was already getting higher beside it. All over the hall. Everywhere. It meant what it said. Multitudinous shadows of things were approaching their position. They barely seemed to register to the eyes.

"I think we're about to walk into a world of hurt, boys. Weapons free. Light it up." Their Captain ordered. They were fast and many. No pony or zebra could move like that. In fact, nothing could move like that. Nothing, should, move like that. As the wave of things got closer they could just occasionally make out they looked like fairly large, grey, featureless slugs. They were incredibly fast and much too large. Were these what took out the guard stations? What about everypony else? They'd encountered nopony else at all.

"What is this!?" Stepper cried out and the entire squad opened up with their weapons, adding to the autons already awesome firepower.

Whenever one of the things died it simply disintegrated, leaving almost no trace but a dissolute powder almost indistinguishable from the floor or walls. The magic inhibitor rounds were doing much more damage on impact. Were these things magical in some way? Despite the veritable hurricane of rounds and the research autons incredible accuracy with the heavy automatic cannon, the wave of disgusting creatures was getting closer rapidly, like some sickening undulating tide.

"Recommendations: Fall back to sec-station two. Seek possible survivors on lower levels. Hold out for reinforcement." The auton stated coldly. There were few other plausible courses of action.

The Captain agreed and motioned them all to move. Despite the large dent in their numbers, these things just kept coming from somewhere. Over half of the autons ammo packs were already spent and even more of the squads magazines. Keeping this up was not an option. Quite soon the approaching wave of slug-like creatures would be upon them. They certainly did not move like slugs, they were much too fast. 20/40 was not following.

"What are you doing? Come on, robot." To his surprise the auton did not move at his order.

"This is the third time you have suggested it, but we cannot summon reinforcements here or they might discover our true purpose. This place is mostly a secret. You know that. Get moving." He demanded.

"Declaration: Negative. Creatures heavily repelled by inhibitor rounds. Expectation: A.D.F. line stack generator will keep them at bay. Unit will secure control room and summon reinforcements as per priority." It was insistent, continuing to fire sporadically while speaking. Keeping the closest of the things from reaching them. Was it ignoring him?

"What should we do then?" the Captain shouted to inquire of the auton.

"Additional: Obtain M.A. flamethrowers from sub-level armory stock." it advised.

"Use augmented flamethrowers, down here!? Have you gone haywire or something?" He turned to leave as he questioned it, really thinking the equioid unit may have gone crazy. The things were getting too close already. There was no choice but to move.

"Physical contact with unknown entities not recommended. Unknown result. Projectile weaponry insufficient for defense of organics." 20/40 spoke and strode forward, towards the surging tide of creatures as the squad retreated.

The last he saw of the fearless auton, the strange things were engulfing the area around and spreading outward as it pushed on towards the control room right through them. It seemed to be correct about the magic deterrent field it was generating pushing them away. How did that thing work anyway? For that matter, how did those magic inhibitor rounds work? The Captain never found anypony that could actually explain either of those things, only offering assurances that they did, indeed, work. Much of the equipment housed here was so very new. So new in fact, they were the only ones yet produced. This looked to be correct. The auton was probably safe. Even if it was not, it was just a machine.

Still, it somehow felt wrong leaving it to face the unknown alone. They'd been working underground here together for over a year and a half, it felt like he was abandoning it. Shaking off the thought, he hurriedly caught up with the others retreating towards the security station.

"Sir, did you see?" One of them muttered as they retreated.

"See what?" He grumbled. Now what? Was this getting even worse?

"Those, things..are coming right out of the freakin' walls!" Oh no. The Captain grimaced, they didn't notice.

They were all panting and moving as quickly as possible away from whatever was behind. Were they even still coming? One thing instilled in them by training, unless without choice you never look back. It only slows you down.

"One of..whatever they are, jumped at Stepper and just like..disappeared into the floor? Almost missed it. What if it touched him? What's going on here, Captain?" Grevist was almost shivering as he spoke. The Captain never heard that kind of fear in any of their voices before. Not even..

"What have I done..." The Captain muttered to himself very quietly.

"What was that, sir?" Grevist huffed, they were all keeping up a stiff and fast pace. If the creatures were really able to move directly through solid matter, would they even be able to defend themselves in any way? Maybe they only saw wrong, or misinterpreted during the fight.

"Nothing. Before I left 20/40 suggested we obtain M.A. flamethrowers, and I don't want to hear it from any of you. You know he's correct. They're tremendously dangerous in confined spaces. But if that thing literally burned through the ground, or whatever it did, then we cannot afford to let even one get close to us again. Got it?" He slowed up as they neared the sec-station once again. It was just as eerie and creepy as the first time they passed the abandoned post.

Where did everypony go? They could not possibly all be dead? There were at least twenty or more support staff here at any one time, along with the guards and private security services. Just few enough ponies knew about this place to be able to reasonably keep its existence quiet, if not entirely unknown. To most it was essentially just a small listening and storage post. All but the science team and a few trusted others knew how deep it really went or its true size. Rarely used for much and barely of note even as a stopping off point. The Captain held much different plans for it. Once this was straightened out he would get them right back to work. He'd put too much effort into this to let it fall or fail. This was strange timing.

Could they really have been found, and could a force sizable enough to seize it actually have pushed this far into pony-held territory without being challenged or noticed? The more he thought about this the less sense it made. No zebra could know about this place. Even finding it would require accurate knowledge of the terrain no matter what direction they came from. Knowledge they absolutely could not possess. The unthinkable may already have happened in this all out war, but this? He shook his head. Lacking information could easily get them all killed. Hopefully 20/40 would be able to reach the control room and assist the staff there. If they were still alive.

If not, at least it might be able to call for help or determine a better course of action. They should focus on going downwards now. Maybe they could meet up with the other squad and the gen room engineers. The four power generation engineers he'd chosen himself. Going so far as to provide their salary out of his own pocket. Unlike many of the soldiers, he was actually heir to a small fortunes worth of bits even before the war. There were reasons for joining up, but he'd never really shared what those reasons were. He looked over to his loyal companions, his friends. They were looking worn already, never really having expected to wind up in active combat again.

"Listen up, guys." He intoned. They were all sort of pacing as they tried to determine some way to defend from the sec-station and looked to him, their trusted leader. It was squarely his responsibility to do right by them.

"I think we need to be completely honest here. 20/40 is definitely right about one thing, those..things are dangerous. We don't even know just how much so. They may even have killed everypony else here already. So I am putting this on the table. I am giving all of you leave to make a break for it and get out of here via the alt exit past the main control room. I would not hold it against any of you. Well?" He finished and looked each of them in the eyes squarely.

They looked stunned by his words. A moment later Grevist spoke up.

"Well, we appreciate your candor, Captain. But, I think we're gonna have to decline. No way would I let you face this alone, so pardon me but.. screw you, uh, sir." It was silent for a few awkward seconds and the squad all laughed. The Captain sighed and gave a vague short smile.

"Alright alright. Can't say I didn't give you the option to hightail it out of here. I don't think we can truly defend this station, 20/40 was giving options without having seen whatever it was you saw. We will go looking for the squad I sent to the gen room or other surviving ponies. Since you're so brave, Grevist, you get point." He waved a hoof back the way they'd come earlier. They were in for another very long hike.

As they walked the Captain thought about his plans for the mine. It was possible they were all about to be undone, especially if anypony chose to take a more thorough look around once reinforcements arrived. If 20/40 even managed to call for any. If he was discovered to have been performing experiments that both the royal sisters forbade, it would all be over. The great grand plan he'd agonized over in an effort to put an outright end to the war would no longer be possible if they knew what he was up to. He might even be imprisoned. The others couldn't see it, but he was holding back tears. All he wanted to do was stop the senseless killing on both sides, even if that meant taking desperate action. Surely what he was doing could be justified? The only intent was to put an end to the war.

His heart sank as it filtered into his head that now these plans might all have been for naught. It would be far preferable to take care of this situation without outside assistance if at all possible. If 20/40 was correct about the seriousness of the threat, there was no chance of that.

"If it comes to it, I will assume all responsibility for this. None of you deserve to be dragged down with me. I will tell them I coerced each of you into performing the experiments. They can do whatever they want with me, but I will not have them ruin your reputations as well. You are all excellent scientists and soldiers. All of you, promise you will not protest." The Captain kept them all moving as he got their cautious responses.

Clearly none of them wanted him to face any potential punishment alone. They begrudgingly agreed and promised. Good. Before the war even started they'd all been part of a small research contingent, amongst others who were now long gone. It was never anything too serious at the time, certainly never anything approaching the importance of this. They did not follow each other into joining the forming military. It just happened that way. He could vividly recall some of the other old faces, fallen ponies he would never see again. Who were the royals to even say what they should or should not be doing?

None of them seemed to have any real plan to bring the hostilities to an end, and anything they did do only appeared to make things worse still. They were the ones who ordered the creation of a true army in the first place. How dare they hold back so much when there was death all around? He could feel himself starting to seethe with anger and put it out of his head, it might be misplaced anyway. What did the royals really know of war? They may have quarreled once in the distant past, and perhaps oversaw one or two minor fights before or since, but nothing like this. Despite their age the two sisters sometimes seemed to know very little about the world around them.

Perhaps it was caution, or maybe it was something else. He shook his head, needing to focus right now. It took so very long to hoof it through here without the lifts. It could be risked to take them, but being trapped on a small platform was not a possibility to be relished. Could this really be some kind of zebra assault? It did not fit with their usual pattern. It was true they did horrible things, but this? They were crafty and outright dangerous. Surely they would never resort to something this outlandish? It didn't sit right, whatever the case. Finally back where they started. What a waste of time and effort it was heading up there. They could not have known what was waiting of course. Now to head downwards even further.

This was an appalling situation. They were all mostly quiet during the walk. What could they really say? It felt so harsh. All the other ponies here might already be lying dead. What could possess such apparent evil to avail itself here and now? The fight on open battlefields at more or less equal odds was one thing, this was entirely different. As it stood, this place was just an abandoned mine of one sort or another that ran dry many moons ago. The previous owners couldn't be found so it was just given to him to keep him busy really. Command held no idea they'd given him exactly what he needed in actuality. The war, ever more pressing, allowed memories to quickly become faded over that one little incident.

Nopony even got hurt. The royalty jumped on him over it for some reason. Said it was unsafe. Never did explain why. Might have been by choice. Maybe they didn't know what they were talking about. Merely forbid further experiments on it, but it would be so useful. It would end the war, just like that. No mess, no fuss. No stopping it. Very rarely could things be claimed so simple. Were the sisters really that afraid of a little science experiment? Couldn't be. Definitely not the younger of the two. Why would she agree? It was no secret that Luna would do nearabouts anything by now to claim victory over the aggressors.

Ponies did aggravate the situation at one point, but to take the war to the level the zebra were pushing towards these days. Insanity. Could they really mostly be crazy? An entire race that bent out of shape over a few misunderstandings and accidental slights? Was it some kind of collective debilitating mental disease that drove them to fight like mad? Maybe they would never find out. Perhaps it was best they didn't figure out the why. Better keep the squads minds on the fight.

"Say, I know this is random and all, but since we've still a ways to go before reaching the sub-level intersection. Is it just me, or was every zebra we ever fought against over the years literally insane, like unreasonably so for soldiers? I get they were pumped and psyched for a fight just like us, but do you see what I'm saying?" The Captain was asking a serious question as the odd thought occurred to him that every single battle he'd ever been in, well, they all had that look in their eyes. That one chilling look. They all knew it well enough. Too well. In the early days of the war little action really took place, but as it dragged on and became more ferocious. That look on their opponents faces became the same taught, cold malevolent stare.

For the longest time it just seemed they were getting worn, as both sides were. Maybe there was something more to it. Maybe he was just imagining things.

"Captain, are you saying there are zebra out there that aren't crazy? Sure pulled the wool over my eyes then. Call me a foal, but that is a load." Grevist interjected. They all sort of snickered.

"I get what you're trying to say, sir. Look at it this way, when this all started they must have thought they'd win easily and treated us like a bad joke. They might even have been correct. Yet, here we are fighting to a practical standstill. Something is sure driving them hard since then, no doubts about that." Stepper threw in their two bits. Burner chimed in.

"Seriously, who cares by now? If we have to plow through every last one of them then that's what we will have to do." It was a heavy statement. He was right. What did it really matter? If they were all somehow insane the only option would be to destroy them outright. A horrible thought. It was never entertained. Would that really be necessary? Kill every zebra? It was a painful idea.

"Let's not go that far just yet, Burner. We have fought them to a draw on the battlefield. We just need that one good punch to finish them off. It's why we're here. I don't know about you, but I would love for the war to be over without having to commit genocide. They must have families too." There was a word ponies almost never used.

Practically coined by the onset of the war itself. The idea of wiping them all out was not something anypony truly wanted to consider. What if there was some kernel of truth to the thought they might all be sick somehow? It was never suggested before. Maybe it was just reaching for a way to give their kind an almost reasonable excuse for their actions, it was also possible they actually deserved it. Finally arriving at a junction marked 6-A in the wall, they were close to the armory. Augment Flamethrowers, magically enhanced to deliver a lethal stream of fire at quite a distance. Several meters. Right up Burners alley. Only one problem.

Based on dragon fire. Even had a great subject to work with in creating them. Unfortunately, the throwers were quickly ruled out for frontline combat. The few times they actually hit a target they were taken out, fast. The enemy learned too quickly, hit the tank with all that magic just waiting to burst out and the pony carrying it is as good as dead. So is almost anything else unlucky enough to be too close. The thought was if your opponents like to close in, don't let them. Fire is good for keeping most at bay, but it turns out when you play with fire, everyone gets burned. Most of them were stored here. Didn't make too many before the realization they were best used to clear out enclosures. Far too dangerous anyway.

Too bad they weren't fighting in zebra territory, around here all they'd be doing is torching their own buildings. Hopefully it would never come to that. The tanks had the symbol of a certain dragons head on them in relief. Would almost be comical if they weren't so lethal.

"Guess what, Burner? You're the only one here actually trained on these, so you get to strap one of those on for once. Better enjoy it, for what it's worth." He smiled at the Captains words and went about slipping into the straps and the protective suit that went with it. It would protect against flame to some degree, but not much else.

After levitating the tank into its holder and locking the last clasp it left him looking rather intimidating. He pulled on the bit-igniter and a little flame spewed forth from the nozzle.

"Ashes to ashes. Haha." Burner sounded a little creepy with that thing on. He strode ahead down the hall.

"Good thing the walls are just rock and steel. These flames would just chew through anything else." He mused, turning his head side to side to test the nozzles positioning. it jutted out from the hanger far enough not to injure himself when engaged. At least somepony was having fun.

"Remember, only use that thing if there is no choice and as minimally as possible. The rest of us will have to hang back, that thing will suck up air too until the recyclers blow more through. Grevist, haul a spare tank on that pull-along. We are heading for corridor 6-C. It's about twenty minutes from here. Check targets, there are two squads down here we don't wanna hit." It was a hopeful statement. Specialist Fire Brand sounded like there was serious trouble down here as well. Got to keep spirits up. Falling in behind Burner, they made a straight line for the offset corridor. It was one of those oddly positioned ones he never told them the purpose of. Maybe he should tell them? No, they didn't need to know.

Why would anypony down here choose to defend from there anyway? Must have been forced back or something. That didn't bode well in itself. On a whim the Captain pushed a nearby intercom panel. Static and nothing more. The same surging static as before. Not so much as a peep otherwise. The generator was continuously backsurging. It was still not under control. That could be a serious danger. Nothing to do about it. They were not the kind of scientists that knew how exactly the generator worked, they were merely using the immense power provided for their experiments. Could they even do anything about it if they reached the gen room? Focusing on the task in front, they approached the reported location.

Horror. Absolute horror. No. They were all dead. Spent bullets lay everywhere down the corridor. Both squads and everypony else, what was left of them were strewn about the whole length. So much blood. More of those shadowy wispy slug-like things were poking through the bodies. More of his friends and colleagues, gone. Burner opened up on them. Flames hosed down the whole way, the flame made a loud thump as air was used up. He was cautious and used short blasts that would quickly go out without more fuel. The fire did kill the things. Made them more dark than they already were, but at least the disturbing things lay still. A whole mass of them. Too many to count.

Poor fellows must have put up a good fight. Now, nothing but their charred bones lay here.

"If there was time, I think I'd be sick, but there isn't." When the flames finally died down the Captain moved up. Some of them must have been dragged all the way here, but why? Fire Brand must have heard his orders, the corridor was set up to defend with tables, chairs and whatever as a barricade. Some of them must have met up and tried to keep the things away. The worst part was the smell. Acrid, sickening. Revolting. It would be forced through the entire mine by the air recyclers. Upon reaching Burner he heard him quip as he looked over the smoking remains of so many.

He shoved one of the things corpses away with the nozzle.

"Original, or extra crispy?" Burner was not callous. He knew this wasn't funny. Probably in shock.

"Listen, put it out of your head. You did what you had to do, they were dead anyway and better off for it judging by the looks on their faces. Let's go now." He ordered. 26 ponies lay dead here. Now they were dust. Even worse, the engineers were among them. How could this have happened?

"There is something else here besides those creatures. They could not have dragged bodies down here without intent. I don't know who or what, but this changes things. We have to fight our way out. There is no choice. Hopefully 20/40 will have got a message out by now. The generator is a lost cause, if there are more of the things roaming around we will never reach it. We need to skedaddle. My orders are as follows: Get out of the mine at all costs, warn command. I guess we're really in for it now." the Captain was shook by the loss of so much life so quickly, but this squad was still alive. He must do everything in his power to keep them safe. Waiting on reinforcements was definitely not an option.

Something truly evil was pervading this place. He was sure of that. They began the long trek back towards the upwards stairs. This was no normal fight. Trying to flee was really their only chance. The carnage in the corridor was indicative of that. There were three ways out of the facility. Two were off in a direction it would probably be best to avoid. It would take hours as it was to get out of here. It would mean taking a side hall and pass the opposite control room door. At least they could hook up with 20/40 there. There was another entrance into the room, but it was down the hall the auton walked through.

"I made a mistake. I should have ordered you all to evacuate. I made a huge mistake. It's my fault. My fault." The Captain was stumbling over his words. Grevist smacked him with the backside of a hoof. Oww.

"Keep your head, sir." Was all he said. That brought him out of it. What was he thinking?

"Sorry. I just.. we lost so many. Anything up ahead, Burner?" The Captain questioned. Burner stopped and was just standing there by a lift shaft.

"Burner?" Grevist asked as they approached him. He crumpled to the floor screaming about his head.

"It's in my brain! It's in..look out!" He was yelling and writhing.

"What?" High Stepper went to lean in and try to help just as Burner for some reason tilted the nozzle to the ceiling and mashed the trigger. One of the the things was above. He'd been trying to warn them. It was too late. The flaming thing flipped off the ceiling, landing on Stepper with a horrible sizzle, causing him to trip and smash his head off the tank which sent both of them slipping and flailing into the lift shaft along with the sickening thing.

"No!" Grevist went to try and pull them out.

Just then the trigger was jammed down by the sagging unconscious form of Stepper. A continuous stream of magically enhanced fire spraying upwards which snapped the lift cables. Down they went. Gone. Just like that. Gone.

"It can't be. It just cant." The Captain, on edge and horrified already, was so close to snapping that he banged his head against the wall several times in frustration.

"Captain, Captain. Stop. Stop. I need you." Grevist was singed by the edge of that blast, but otherwise intact.

"I, I..alright." The two ponies all alone miserably headed on.

"Should I ditch the spare tank? We can't go all the way back for another thrower." Grevist asked.

"No. Haul it along, we might need to use it as a bomb or something." The Captain was right. This was getting more desperate by the hour. Even if a call was sent for reinforcements it would be hours more before they arrived. They would not last that long in here. All this took time, something they were apparently quite short of.

"We are probably going to die here today, Grevist. Just thought you should know." He mumbled. To his surprise, Grevist started howling with laughter.

"You remember that bowling alley I said I was gonna open one day? I just recently saved up enough to do it. I was so close. Guess it's a good thing I gave it to ma for safekeeping." His voice wavered and this hardened fighter was suddenly crying.

"Grevist, I'm so sorry. I know you were looking forward to it." The Captain hung his head forlornly as they approached the next junction. Just two more and they'd be at the control rooms alternate entrance. Grevist wiped his eyes.

"Ah, forget it. Always thought I'd die in this stupid war anyway. Didn't think it'd be like this though. And, sir?" Grevist halted. The Captain looked just in time to see a twisted look on his face. What?

"I think I know what Burner was yelling about now. It's in my head, too. Please, rrruunn." As he finished speaking he swung at his lifelong friend, just missing. The only reason he missed was the tank he was hauling on the pull along held him back ever so slightly. With a shocked look the Captain dodged back.

"What are you doing?" He barely managed to say before Grevist swung again, just missing.

"I c-c-can't control it. It hurts!" Something sort of floated and flashed by them almost unnoticed. Just like back in the experiment room. This time it almost didn't register with either of them.

Grevist was clearly not in control of his own actions. He was trying to fight whatever it was, and losing. He jerked and went to use his weapon as the Captain dove. A bullet struck through his leg as he landed around the corner of the junction to find himself directly in front of 20/40 walking towards him. Groaning in pain he realized what he was looking at.

"20/40, Grevist is under enemy control through no fault of his own, restrain him!" At his order the auton responded oddly.

"Negative, unable to comply. Unit apologizes, sir." Apologies? Then it strode around the corner as he watched in pain and horror. Grevist was firing wildly at the auton. It fired a single shot in return, then sidled back into the hall as the tank he was hauling erupted. He was killed instantly.

"You, you killed him!" Despite his wound the Captain started smashing the auton with his hooves, almost crazed. It did not react.

"Negative, sir. Grevist could not be saved." It stated coldly. It was worse in that voice. What did it mean?

"Explain yourself you stupid machine!" He kind of yelped. The smoke spread down the halls was slowly clearing.

"Declaration: Unit realizes this is upsetting. Grevist was already dead. Again unit apologizes, sir. You require first aid."

"What do you mean he couldn't be saved?" This was too much, why was this all happening here? He calmed, stopped hitting it and backed down, pulling open a wall mounted medical station and started disinfecting and dressing his wound. He listened.

"Explanation: Unknown pathogen infecting ponies in facility. Unit was forced to engage control room staff who were crazed. Approximately ten to forty minutes after infection extremely violent agitation followed by severe physiological degradation occurs. Unit was asked to terminate. Unit complied. Unit has merely prevented Grevist from suffering. Unit has adjusted sensory inputs to detect infection. You are clear. Has unit acted inappropriately, sir?" It turned towards the control room. Why was it out here anyway? If that was true, it really just stopped him from going through an agonizing death. There was so much wrong here. Almost too much. When and where could Burner and Grevist have become infected?

Was High Stepper infected as well? Might never know now.

"I, I'm sorry, 20/40. I should have known you'd have a good reason. No. You did nothing wrong. I am just upset. Everypony else is dead now, aren't they? All staff and sworn civilians. All of them. So fast. Why aren't you in the control room? Did you call for reinforcements?" He finally found the wherewithal to ask for a sitrep as he pulled the dressing tight. The shot went through cleanly, he should be okay with proper treatment. If he ever made it to any.

"Situation as follows: Generator surging growing worse, shutdown estimated within one half hour. Unit was unable to summon reinforcements due to increasing interference. Unit was forced to withdraw, unknown entity present emitting massive energetics readings has taken the control room. Minor skirmish indicates line stack generator may not be sufficient to repel. Unit has taken 12.7% damage from two projectiles of unknown design. Positing: Creatures may originate from multidimensional rift. Orders?" 20/40 went silent as it continued to twist and turn its strange triaxially mounted head. Multi-what? Rift? What was it talking about? Even though it was not a combat model, it was built to take some punishment.

Something strong enough to damage the auton that badly was here? He didn't notice it before, but there were two hexagonal holes punched right through its plating diagonally. Fortunately, It did not take them dead on or it may already be out of commission. What kind of projectiles could those have been? The reactor was actually going to shut off? No spark reactor ever had such a problem before due to the many layers of safety protocols built into them, that could have serious ramifications of its own. It was all so much. His heart felt like it skipped a beat painfully as he rose.

"20/40. I will need to lean on you, I can't walk properly. I will not be able to make it to the exit like this. We must try and retake the control room. Do you concur?" He asked of it.

"Affirmative. Be wary of heat exhaust locations. Warning: creatures approaching. Stay within five hooves distance at all times." It began walking slowly forward with him kind of hanging off the side with the line stack. It felt strange and tingly all over being within the deterrent field. It also made him feel kind of weak? Might just be his imagination. More of those horrible things. Was it too much to ask that all of the ones fried down in 6-C to be all of them?

They seemed endless as the mass swarmed around this odd duo. How many could there possibly be? They did stay outside the range of the line stack. It was just enough to let them pass by. Their meandering looked aimless. In their wake a slick trail of glop was left everywhere they touched. Even the zebra empire couldn't have unleashed something like this, could they? He knew them to fight all out, but this just didn't sit right. From what little he really knew of them, they did have some sort of sense of honor although twisted. For the first time in a long time he felt genuine fear. Did these things spread the pathogen 20/40 said was here or was that something else? One misstep would expose him to the dangerous things.

He held close to the auton for dear life. Finally, he could see the control room door. As they approached the frizzing of the deterrent field could actually be heard as it struggled to repel so many of them. Some of the things just seemed to melt out of existence if they did not move away in time. He was feeling faint. Was his injury more serious than he thought?

"There are coolant lines running down through the adjacent room to the generator below, hidden and routed behind the paneling, correct? If we blew them, would it stop the entity?" He questioned.

"Intent calculated. Most likely. Specialized spark coolant temperature is negative 320.8 degrees. Chances of pony survival less than twenty percent. Room would be instantly hermetically sealed. Line failure may accelerate reactor failure." It advised.

"I see. Well, I can't stay out here. If there is no other choice, your orders are to blow the lines." These might be the last words he would ever utter. It clattered and turned that odd head towards him, halting a moment. Now what?

"Query: Sir, were we all friends?" If it could make other expressions he would swear it was sad. This machine, sad?

What was he thinking? It was strange of it to ask such a thing. It did sometimes say things he thought to be more than machine-like. Sometimes it was disconcerting. He'd spent nearly two years with it. Maybe it really was a friend of sorts after all.

"Of course we were, 20/40. The others might have joked at your expense a bit from time to time, but amongst us anyway, that just means they liked and respected you. They just had a hard time accepting you as one of the team is all." The images of all the others faces sort of flashed through his head. Everypony here was gone now. All of them.

He would probably be joining them in a moment. This place could not fall under enemy control no matter what. It didn't matter what kind of enemy.

"Declaration: That is good to know." They both stepped into the control room and the door slipped shut behind them. A few moments later, If anypony was around to hear it they would have heard a lot of shooting, a dull thud and then an explosion.

I won't even tell you about the heat in the kitchen..

P.O.P.R.

Nopony knows the trouble I've seen. And I've just about seen it all. I stole it you see. And it is all my fault. Not the war, not the death. No. Something far worse than those things. I did what you never, ever, do. I cannot tell you the rest of that. There is no time for it. Something we all thought we now had. What I can tell you is a story about a little pony. Just like every other one. What matters is the outcome. You see she had a really little secret. One of those little white lies that aren't supposed to hurt no one. Ever watched somepony rolling up a snowball? Starts real real small don't it? Now roll it down a hill. Seems innocuous enough does it not? All in good fun. Just watch it roll a while as it gets bigger, and faster.

All the little pony ever wanted was love. What the pony got is another matter. How far do we go to fix our mistakes? How much will we do to put that guilt to rest? This one went a lot further than the rest. For some, guilt is unbearable, but you never really know how hard it is for you until you're guilty of something. Then again, aren't we all just a little guilty? She stood a little taller than most. We won. They were finished. No doubt. Not in anyones minds..except the zebra. They had other plans I would surely say. Too bad those plans weren't any better than our own. For all our planning and posturing, just look what it got us. We lost our hope. We lost our future. Our world. We lost just about every little thing.

That little pony I was talking about? Well let's just say there are a lot of other things you can lose. Best keep that in mind going forward. The little things are what count for the most in the end. Don't just take my word for it. Find that out for yourself. A bunch of little things add up to one giant heap right quick. We started out only to defend ourselves. When exactly we took that wrong turn for the worse I don't rightly know. Somewhere along the line. Somewhere. Don't you worry none though, don't you worry at all. Everything is gonna be alright. What's that you say? How can it be alright when the whole world is turned upside down? Oh it's not what you're thinking. There's no magic at all that can just fix this mess.

It takes a lot of effort to make a mess this big. Just remember, everypony has got their little hangups. Sometimes you just have to press the right buttons..or the wrong ones. All depends now don't it? And there we stood on the brink. The very threshold of victory. It was right there. Our enemies backs broken, their dead machines and their folly apparent for all to see. They were all but finished. Fate seems to have this nasty habit of fetching the opposite of what we'd all like. So there we were, all very proud of our imminent victory. We couldn't lose. Could we? I'll tell you another story, one about good intentions. Actually, you probably know that one. If I had a bit for every time I've heard that one.

What does this all have to do with anything? Plenty, as it turns out. That little filly lead a hard life straight out the gate. No one seemed to know where she called home. Just drifted into town and stayed all alone. Kind of quiet and shy. Some said she had vacant, lost eyes. The kind that scare the daylights out of you if you chance to look too long into them. No one knew why and she never said. Maybe she was hurt. Maybe she hurt somepony. Who can tell? Perhaps she just wanted comfort over whatever it was. Something about her kept other ponies far far away. You ever felt that around another? I have. It is most unpleasant. Makes you want to turn tail and run for the hills.

A creeping chill along the spine like the coldest winter come to dampen the spirit and pull all hope from you. I've never been one for worldly things. I held onto few possessions, there just isn't much I truly need. To have even those taken from you is like losing your spirit. Some lost far more than I. She was one of them. Maybe we are the same. Probably not. She has far more problems than me. I am just a ghost of a memory. She's probably a little something more than that. Whoever is viewing this memory, I have to tell you. Watch out. You think the war ended? You think just because we all died that it was resolved? You have another thing coming. I know that, and I know I am dead.

Would have happened quite shortly after recording this. That blankness, why you can see only darkness and hear a voice, why it hurts so much to view this? That sudden pain? I wasn't quite far enough away. Thought I was in a good place, bit of a miscalculation on my part. Could have sworn I got it right for a change. Guess not. I can't even get to my hooves. I am blinded and injured seriously. What tiny bit I have left of my magic is little use. Guess I should have joined the medical corps after all. It's alright though. I did my part. It just wasn't enough. Seems we all made some big mistakes. Some a little larger than others. I tried to serve the greater good all my days. We failed on that point didn't we? Oof. Feel that?

My heart is slowing. Good luck to you whoever you are. I think this is it. Sorry to make you experience my death along with me. Is...is that you love?

010010010111010000100000011100110111010001100001011100100111010001110011

Skytrail's Meteorite Rocket Train to Nowhere

Most hope for a good life. That hope was taken away from many when war came upon them. Seemingly overnight whispers of violence and death of a sort unheard of flashed across the whole of the world. What is the world? Is it just the chunk of things in sight? Is it far more than that? The length and breadth of Equestria could be lay waste and ruin. None would believe it could not be stopped. The only rule of inevitability is that it must be. All the land consumed with turmoil and strife. Perhaps it truly was inevitable. The shiny veneer and bright colors of the world must eventually turn, and expose the ugly truth for all to see. Many things happen in war. The great, the small.

None are safe from the clutching grasp of pain and terror. Disillusionment settled in and best efforts were for naught. The truth fell behind closed doors and stayed there. The quiet hush already settling before the bitter quiet to come. What is the truth? For this there is no right answer, not here, not now. It is soon to be buried. So many voices about to fall forever silent midstride. So it would seem. Some guessed at the end. Some, hoped it would be alright. Their benevolent protectors of the good would surely save them. How could it be otherwise?

The Skytrail line. The two fastest train engines in all Equestria ran it and bore his name. He made sure of that. Both could travel at or near over a hundred miles an hour. An impressive feat for trailing a maximum 17,000 tons of steel. Stopping required a great deal of distance ahead. They were built to run as an express out towards the furthest reaches of the equestrian borders and could quickly be converted to heavy freight or passenger configurations, or a mix thereof which was less common. Only two of them made it into production due to the tremendous engineering difficulties inherent in building them.

From the necessarily indirect line to the Frozen North, far to the east and the lonely Griffonstone Station which sat far from the place itself, and all the way to the edge of the mysterious southern regions they ran. Once or twice in a long while one even ran all the way there and back. An occasional enticement for any zebra daring enough to come visit, or a pony interested in foreign lands. Before the war consumed any notion of friendliness or promotion of tourism. Daily living didn't stop during it, simply getting a whole lot harder. The railways worked overtime and then some, moving troops and equipment all throughout.

Eventually this put the second liner class engine out of commission due to heavy wear, leaving only one of the supremely valuable commodity. She was built to take punishment, but never envisioned to run non-stop for near on twenty years with barely any time for maintenance. It held up surprisingly well. Engine one was fitted with armor plating, as it was still occasionally called upon by the military to make the now very dangerous trek south to haul whatever dwindling amount of coal they could bargain for from their enemies in trade. As the only remaining heavy engine it was much too valuable to risk being destroyed. Becoming a truly rare sight to see it loaded down in such a way and powering along back north.

When it was first built it was a source of pride. Now whenever it steamed in with a hefty load of greatly needed items, one of relief. Even after almost two decades of continuous research, spark reactors were still nowhere near enough to supply all of the power generation needs being placed upon them. Two of them were already offline for repairs from the strain, even intended as they were to run far longer. He never imagined his trains would be appropriated by an army that simply didn't exist at the time. The brainchild of a dedicated group of engineers, he made the most major contributions. They took his pride and joy from him.

It was true ponies hearts lifted whenever they saw the sleek outline of the former express pulling in wherever it may. This was not how he wanted it. It should not be like this. It was for the wrong reasons. Skytrail was a bit of an odd pegasus, railways caught his eye at an early age. An inventor of some renown by the age of twelve, he held many interests. A genius they called him. It all seemed so far away now. As for many others the endlessly dragging war drew down on his resolve, and some of his compatriots were long buried. When the first one went, it was just a fluke. Something that couldn't possibly happen again. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. A total accident he got caught up in it.

Then it happened again, and again. Now, it didn't matter at all. Nothing did. The reports flashing across the radio they equipped the train with, an arcane device barely a decade old, rattled out the truth of the now. They'd gone mad. Ponies were dying, everything was, and he was going to as well. He'd hopped in his train, once his pride and joy. No one would care anyway. As he pushed the throttle forward and the great engine slid out of the station for the very last time, the tears fell. Fully loaded with supplies as it was, still it operated with nary a groan. All he ever wanted was to make those around him happy. The war tore that from him and everything else.

Oddly, as the lumbering engine wound up speed, he found himself staring out at the beautiful countryside that would soon lay wrecked and wreathed in fiery doom. For once, he was actually enjoying his creation. It was just too bad it took the end of the world to let him do so. It was alright to do this. After all, this was the end of all things. Some far off flashes could just be seen. He would be reaching the end of track in this direction pretty soon. Either that or the approaching destruction would get him. Didn't really matter which happened first. He might even outrun it.

"Before I go, let's see what you can really do. How about that, girl?" He said as he punched the throttle forward to max, a position it would never be put in normally. As if in answer to his question the powerful train engine, his finest creation, whined and hurtled forward down the tracks to reach speeds unknown. As the track end marker came into view far down the line, he closed his eyes, feeling unusually happy for a change.

Just easier than dealing with the pain.

I Have No Muzzle and I Must Whinny

Far far ago, in a world a long time away..er..wait, that's not right is it? Once ago a time upon..no, no no. Both of those are quite too happy for this one aren't they? We need something more apt, more telling. How about: There was at one time an amazing and vibrant place where bright colors gave rise to the greatest of dreams, where those endless grand dreams actually came true, and then those dreams were snuffed out. It all ended in black and pitch and screaming fire. In balefire and cataclysm they halted for all, perhaps for all time hence. What truly is balefire you may ask? It is infliction, it is misery. The very antithesis of life and purity. It is corruption, it is death, given shape and substance to cheapen life.

It should not exist, it did not exist, until they made it so. A doomsday weapon never to be thrown forth. A great deterrent to stop all fighting and thought of war. It is to laugh. And laugh it did, in the face of all that is good and right. Anything at all pure was tainted that terrible day, in some unfathomable way. A sickness for which there is no cure. Only the hope that it will end. The mere existence of such a terrible weapon guaranteed its misuse. It tears away at the very seems and binds of reality where it lay and thus it did so on countless occasions, creating rifts and fissures of outpouring uncontrollable magics of such force and magnitude so as to deride all idea of good.

Such fonts of power were once a rare natural occurrence wherein pure magic was harnessable from within, to the great delight of the unicorns. The sundered fabric of reality torn open where it pours out now is corrupt, unmanageable, to even try an insanity of its own making. There is and never was anypony with that kind of power. Not even Celestia herself would ever have dared to so much as look upon such a weapon. Seeing her beloved subjects at the throats of invaders only one time was enough to make her withdraw from society entirely, and cease to rule. It was too painful for her to see living things destroying each other in bloody battle.

Despite her own vast power and skill, even she could not be everywhere at once, and the war spread everywhere. That great ruler did want with all her being to put an end to it. She could not, and withdrew to keep silent. Knowing she had the ability, and unable to use it for the benefit of any, nearly drove even her to a kind of insanity. Sobbing quietly in the depths of the great castle, she hid in the one place never expected of her. Weeping in a darkened room, even her sister, normally as cool as the stars in the night sky could hardly stand to see her thusly. Celestia could no longer face the living. Horror was something few ponies knew before the reality of war drew them into a conflict without end.

An interminable ceaseless war without reason and most dire consequences. Luna knew the dark far better than her. She once carried that pain in her own heart, never wishing for her sister to experience it. That was a wish not to be granted. Her one momentary lapse in the past and the terrible price paid gifted her with an understanding of loneliness unprecedented. Where possible she did everything possible to cheer her, for a time avoiding all mention of the very war she was now leading. It could never have been enough. A saddened face in the dark was the last any ever expected to see of her, but there it was. Their one remaining great pillar of strength and unity just stepped aside, and stayed there.

Both could see things were not going that well and getting worse, but at their core they were not the same. Where Celestia stepped aside, she threw herself wholeheartedly into any endeavor that might bring a resounding victory. By this time, any idea that victory would be a glorious affair was long since washed away in tides of agony and missing friends. The one pony to read every list of dead and missing, was her. A price she insisted on paying for being given over to ruling. Out of view, she wept alongside her ailing sister. It was only fair. An icon symbolic of strength mustn't cry in public. A cold wind made of bitter shadow slowly settled across the kingdom.

Fleeting dreams of greatness ended with the terrible realization that there might be no victory, and no end to a puzzling war which just refused to come to a stop. Nothing went right and every move only seemed serve to worsen the state of things. Few could stand to lead this. In the end even the very representative of the night could not prevent the events transpiring to push the final days of the war over the edge of reason into total madness, and madness it was. There can be no other explanation for unleashing this upon the world. All those who came to hail her as a leader beloved almost as much as her sister were wronged. It was a false adoration anyway, where they looked for hope.

Alarms wailing in the distance, all but powerless they stood together on one of the great balconies and watched as their grand country melted away before their very eyes, helpless. Holding each other up, facing the end together in one last futile gesture of defiance. Even they were not strong enough. Both failed the living, and themselves. Perhaps they deserved pity more than all others? The living. They want. An endless and insatiable want. All they are given is more of the same want. In all the wastes, want is all that can be given. The two sisters could leave nor save anything more. Begging and pleading are of no value. It does no good to ask for what is not there for the taking.

There are many stories in the wastes, deadly puzzles and mysteries awaiting an unfortunate soul to stumble upon them. A sip of fresh water and a decent meal is a dream come true, but most likely a disguised nightmare waiting to be unleashed upon the unsuspecting. A mountain of caps would be equal to its own weight in power over others, and in this, power is coveted more than ever. For some it is plain to see it is the one thing to seek. The thoughtful look around and see how far power can reach. It did leave the world as it is. It was a lofty height from which to fall. No wonder no one landed on their hooves. The real wonder is that any survived at all, for the little good it did them. Left to live and die in this.

Time has dragged ever since, like something weights it down. Every year the same or even more miserable than the last. Where is their power now? Was all of it spent on this? All that over a few chunks of rock and steel? No one knows, and none are left to tell the why of it. At least, none willing to say. Living in a city in the sky should have been far more than enough, and vastly more than any could dream of now. Did they want more? Was it even possible to want for more than that? Most would be content with far less, or even one small taste of that fabled time when the world was good. Was it really so good? Is it even possible life was ever so ridiculously grand? If it were so, that time is gone and gone again.

This was the only way it could end. Something that good was probably bound to fail sooner or later. There is only wandering now. Well over a hundred years have passed since it all fell apart in splitting seconds well into the nothingness awaiting. There is no real will here, only scraping, fighting. The crawling, the dead, and the dying. Feeling as though the light abandoned them. This is life? It does not seem right. It does not matter where you are. Everything is the same dulled and deadened hue cast over all things. Can there be nothing more? How much does it cost? Most would pay whatever sum, any price, to return to that terrible moment only to say.. "Stop."

One look at their dirtied and gaunt figure would surely be enough. What gave them the right to do this? They left so little. Being alive hurts nowadays. Wandering with no set destination in the vain hope of finding something better. From the inside out the great turmoils which rippled through the very fabric of society until it could sustain itself no longer had slowly burned it all to ash. The last standing bastions of this society held on for as long as they could without aid or fresh supplies. Hoping in vain some order would come from somewhere. Help, any aid at all. There was none to be had. Anyone that may have thought to help was quickly extinguished.

The magnitude of force leveled against all sides of their conflict was of such scale there is no comparison. The closest one might come is take a single drop of water and hurl it off a cliff, then tell you to go find it. That is, if there were any water left to spare. Waste is not something to be looked on kindly in a world without. How rapidly they turned on each other. Whoever was left, anyway. This pain flowed across the entire land and left little. Happenstance can only save so much. Pure luck really, nothing more. Even the far off reaches not left untouched. From the highest mountain to the lowliest hole, the land was changed. Pocked and damaged in some fundamental way beyond words. Beyond understanding.

The great gates of bastions old and older lay smashed. Some terrific feeling of scorn and bewilderment lay atop the remaining living. There was no escaping this fate. Does fate play with the little actors upon the stage in fickle manner, only to leave them on their own? Most who lay dead and dying were no soldiers. Ordinary run of the mill members of their once golden society lost most, and all. No one can ready themselves for the end of all things come knocking. Hammering at their towers and homes until they collapsed, like some terrible fabled titan, heralding only destruction in its wake. Mistakes were made aplenty. The slow death of the remainder of society began at that very moment.

When time stops, there can come naught but pain and misery in its wake. This spreading misery could only get worse as what precious few lives remained intact sought hope, to find none. Their leaders could not save them. No one could. This deal was done. There was no arbiter party to this to ensure fairness, only the wailing of the dying. The conundrum of all the few left to suffer through the miasma, what to do now? With their infrastructure gone and no one at all left to lead, what else could they do? Falling into the trap sprung by all the anger and hatred left only the destitute. Pride is a long lost feeling, barely remembered. Built to the greatest heights and worn to the barest of memory.

Life, once respected, has nothing to offer the shackled souls forlornly plodding along through the ruins. The only things left to them, the faded signs of greatness. Even a patch of green nearly a forgotten fable. Holding onto hatred is always easy. One of the few things which can be passed along and started with almost no effort. The chains of hate temper themselves ever harder as the world continues to cling to its dreary existence, reinforcing themselves under the illusion that there is anything to gain in doing so. One after another, that anger grows inside until a raging fire which can only burn itself out and consume everything in its path before it does.

It did so in their history, fanned by unseen force and will, and does so now. The murky depths of the darkest hearts sought only to nurture such anger. Their reward was the same as everypony else. Near total annihilation. Their extinguished pride its own pain, and the torn hearts of those destroyed souls wailing in futile regret. Forging ahead has never been a thought since the day the light went out, only survival. The great, the powerful, where did they all go? Not even one survived to prop up the world of the now? The slow grind of what little clings to life has almost no power. Will is a conjuration of the heart and mind to do something, anything to make all the pain go away.

The broken roads, highways and byways long left untended and uncared for a constant reminder that for the ponies, something went right once. They built upon and mastered the whole environment around them. It all lays in quiet ruin now, beckoning passersby to somehow make it right. Can any price make it so? Anger still rises, little else does. What could possibly heal a wound so deep it harmed the world itself? This kind of seething anger can only destroy, it is not a thing of creation and thought. Whatever props up such anger is the only company it keeps. Being kicked in the gut is a difficult sensation to convey. At least, not without doing the same to another.

How much would it hurt to have everything you've ever known stripped away in a mere flash from the heavens above? Now take that feeling and wonder..How can it hurt even more? The providence of chance taught what ponies and others who lived, it can always feel worse. The darkness looming ever greater as their world crumbled about them. To the bansheelike cries of destruction the whole of Equestria, an entire country, and an entire world thought a shining beacon of purity and righteousness, fell. Their whole world laid bare, or so it might be thought. What thoughts must have crossed their minds as all they knew was torn from under them, all around and about? All of it tumbling.

No one actor could possibly have caused this much carnage on such a vast scale. It takes multitudes to set such events in motion, knowing or not. Just action a quickly fading memory. Look how quickly reason goes. Distant fires on the horizon spreading in all directions with none left to bring them into check. It lead to nothing but waste. An unbearable unchecked sadness seemed to spill across the whole of existence as the light fled. Maybe it was fated. Maybe it was destiny. Maybe it just couldn't be avoided, at any cost. This tumultuous upheaval that rendered any map at most, unreliable. At worst, utterly useless. Rivers which burned up in a flash to disperse into the nothingness made it even worse.

Any directly struck would never recover. Those on the edges stood nearly zero chance of surviving, and even if they did, were likely going to die horribly anyway. Few planned for such an eventuality. Even some who did, made errors. For some, the price of continuing to live was just too high. As always, life continued where able. Cheapened, scorned and beaten. How dare they let this happen, how dare they? Even before they were struck, rioting started. Fear does strange things to those letting it consume them. Driving masses to anger and poor decisions. Mob mentality strikes quickly. As quick as any lightning bolt. It just happens and then it is done. What number of them fell for no reason, who knows?

A tally of horror not worth contemplating for any length of time. The end brought with it the greatest of terrors, the shortest, and the longest. Between panic and riot, even more died. Maybe it was actually better for the ones that fell before the raging tide of destruction swallowed the rest just short of whole. Unleashed clashing energies of such proportion as never seen, twisted and warped the very land and sky all around, and even some of the still living. Everything short of surviving lost to nothing but ash and ember.

What tatters remained of the pegasi forces barely managed to contain it to ground level, using the entirety remaining of their number and vast weather control capability to suppress what was happening below. It was a hollow victory, leaving all bereft. What great pride they amassed, shorn from them so rapidly. What a joke. Only, no one was laughing. For themselves or others, no one really won anything here. How it must have hurt. A stinging barb that cannot be removed. This cruel joke is far from funny. Poisoning their hearts and souls against life itself. The fear and driving pain inside is all that is known now. The realization come too late they had everything, and lost it all over little.

How petty they must have felt in surviving this affront to all things. All it took was the slightest little push here and there and suddenly the great houses of cards shiny exteriors, polished to a mirror sheen, slowly showed their cracks and then crumbled to dust in mere seconds. This tragedy so unbecoming. An insult to those claiming to protect the greater good. One with true weight behind it. A torment and torture like none other to know, they failed. Their very task itself the most monumental failing of all. Could they all be held accountable on some fundamental level? Once started on the path of true war, no side would yield, but doing so was never a real thought.

The enemy would not have stopped, as the fundamental problems would have remained. The hungry engines of industry, eventually driven by the very war itself, demanded ever more of ever less. The few spark reactors in existence held such promise, but by this time were barely able to hold up. Being quite new made them unreliable and difficult to maintain at best. The expense and complexity of even building them so new that they were rife with issues from the start. One almost exploded on start. Perhaps the smallest glimpse of things to come. It mattered little. The war ended on the worst note ever to sound, and was itself blotted out. Those born into what followed, know nothing better.

It is a dagger piercing the heart such that it cannot be removed, to let the poison settle in. Some poisons do not hurt. This one slipped in so easily it was never noticed, and now it is there. Deadening the world more as is its wont. What merit is there in trying? All that does is make it hurt more and more. The sheer totality of death and destruction rained across the world, not even the most wicked and blackest of hearts could celebrate this. Did they know what they were doing? Did anyone even imagine it would turn out like this? There were those that tried, as hard as they could. It would never have been enough to satiate the growing anger.

The divide between the armies that threw themselves at each other could only widen. When it came to be that both sides only held the view that absolute victory was a must, was this the exact moment when hope ended? A guarantee that all would suffer? All sides have those who do not wish to fight. Did they suffer most of all for their stand? All anypony wanted was their fair chance at a good life. Was it too much to ask? Nothing answers the questions on the wind. Even the sky was once their domain, and still that was not enough. Was it greed? A simple misunderstanding? Simple misunderstandings are the ones which spiral completely out of control against all efforts to prevent them.

One disaster after another piling up atop them, what else could they do? Fight, and fight harder. The end was never actually in sight. Those in the know, truly understood this. Those who may have given warnings had them either fall on deaf ears, or were taken as worrying too much. The amassed ponies great armies imagined they were winning, which is exactly why those warnings were given. There is nothing so stark as a warning unheeded and ignored. Filed away under little more than misgivings. Where were those mighty armies of old in the end? So powerless they were whisked away like they never existed? All life starts as a promise. Once held as a sacred gift upon whom it was imparted.

The respect it deserved was lost somewhere along the line. When exactly life became this travesty is unknown to the ponies and others left to live and wander, carrying with them some misunderstood shame within they cannot shake. On they lived. Surprisingly many did. In pain. Misery and suffering throughout. What happened? Losing not only the war, but themselves. Over short span, anger turned to cruelty. Misplaced as ever. After all, what did it matter? Now, with little power left and no will to actually try doing anything cohesive, the few remaining forces fell into disarray, and then split apart. There is little use for a command structure when there is nothing left to command, and fewer still to follow it.

The fight was over, right? Communications between what was left became sporadic, then ceased due to becoming quite literally impossible for the most part. A terrifying static rose up on what working equipment remained, and as transmissions ceased, a sense of ill foreboding. If there was even anypony left to hear it anyway. What could possibly be left to forebode? Things fell apart almost as quickly as the war itself ended. The outpouring of uncontrollable magic spilling forth and consuming everything in reach like an unstoppable tidal wave. Helpless is a word. In the end, it is nothing more than one of many. The feeling itself is so much worse.

If even the grand Canterlot shields were of no real use here, what good was anything else? After the shining capital fell, ever smaller groups wandered the smoldering ruins of the whole countryside. It was just too much. A dreadful quiet settled, to become a silence which is ever-deafening. To the broken hearts and minds that still lived, hopeless. Even the one given hope, the great Stable-Tec Stables below, mostly turned out to be nothing of the sort. Shortsightedness and folly, and even simply bad planning. Cut corners meant more death and destruction needlessly piled on. Trying to survive took on new meaning here in this blasted land.

A land where so many vying powers smashed into, and ultimately extinguished one another. Time and again the pony and zebra armies fought here, for what? Vying to score a victory that never quite materialized for either side, but why this? Why go so far? Did losing the war truly mean this much to their empire? Destroying everything for everybody is the coldest of actions, surely there can be none colder. War was one thing. Absolute and total ruin is incomprehensible, unfathomable. To stand and watch as you caused the entire world to fall apart, something else altogether again still. To this day the inheritors of this pathetic and cold world have little choice but to wander.

When all the world became one big funeral pyre, the flames and torrents racing closer as blood pounded fast and hearts dropped. Where did their hope go? So many, assured of victory, now stood quaking as they saw their end landing atop them. The oceans worth of flowing tears in that instant, still not enough to stop it. How could any of them be forgiven now? Just look what they did! They allowed this, of all things to happen. The world turned to twisted ruins in a single flash of light and fire precipitated by the will of what must have been utter insanity. What else could it have been? The sheer speed of their ruin impossible to gauge. All the ruins do now is languish, forever appearing to ask for forgiveness.

The world itself standing as a quiet mausoleum. A testament to such grand stupidity, to have so calmly invited disaster. It should never have happened. Of all things that could stand, this one thing should not be. The light dulled and near extinguished for what? Pride, maybe. Nopony really knows for sure. The true creators of this abyss of pain are long extinguished themselves. Death was probably too good for the likes of them. The rest which remained should be so lucky as to have gone with them. Why even survive, here, now? What is left but the crumbs and wreckage of time forgot? Where do you go when there is no path forward?

Unable to hold up the slightest light in the darkness, not even the merest hint of hope remained in this, an eternal and disquieting lullaby for this unclimbable mountain of grief and sorrow. The quiet tomb which the world became sat in reverence of the fallen for uncounted ages. Hardly disturbed. Few cared anymore. Most, died. Sometime, somewhere, something set forth the slightest spark of light. How dare light intrude on this deadened place now? Light does not deserve to be seen here, not in this place solely consistent of death and dead hope. It should just be crushed, stamped out underhoof like all things were. Unbidden and unwanted. The great and uncaring tides of misery must not be interrupted.

Just die already. Hope already did. Why won't they stop trying? There is nothing to be gained. Nothing. It is already all gone. Go ahead. One more time. One more gamble on the already extinguished light. Some candles cannot be relit. Try as you might, and try with all you have. It has been over for ages now. What gives rise to such torment? Most things even when large are at least comprehendable. The scope of the ever-expanding war was perhaps not something which could even be understood. It grew only more outsized as things progressed from bad to worse, to agonizing, to belief-defying. Comfort was never given during, and especially not after its end. The lost and the dead number many.

Most lay forgot in unmarked graves never to be known to the world, or worse. The chill pall which leadens the air and depresses the spirit refuses yield to any sign of life returning or hope. The world is dead, quiet and still. A world very nearly of and for them. Those silent voices calling for their retribution. No one wants to listen. Struggling only seems servant to this quiet desperation and despite all efforts, declares such struggles lacking in sincerity or meaning. Who would dare to fight against it? Just more of the insignificant, the helpless, the worthless. Left to go traipsing about in dark held forth, as if a prize worth having. There is nothing here you may have, not without a fight. Only that empty silence left to the wastes.

Monsters may lurk there, waiting in the mist. For the unfortunate, the unwary and those just a little too careless. Sometimes they are seen. Mostly they are not. In dark unseen where dead eyes rot. Every finally passing moment is its own eternity of agony and pain. No summons of good is answered, no prayer to the above given call. Terror is the name of the day. Suffering the title of the foremost. The very path left to the living is naught else but more of the same. Where did it all go? It looks like there was so very much. Enough for all and to spare. Was it all an illusion? Those great builders of old put it all together, only to let it crumble away? Clinging to their misery is all that remains.

Surely, there is something left, somewhere? The mighty of old do not stand. What chance have you? The unforgiving world about you is dread, left solely to the dead who once claimed it as their own. It lies outside the right of the living to tamper with the dead. You can take what they had, all they owned and were in life, but you cannot have them. This unspoken rule is never to be broken. They are gone. You may not have them back. Never. That veil is unyielding, but even so. Every once in a great long while they speak. The monuments to all that were consumed in hate are scattered all about. You need not look far. The world itself is evidence of this. What it gives voice to is only resentment, and pain.

Little more than junk really. The volumes it tells about those who lived and died a tragedy of such proportion it defies understanding. Who let it come to this? All of the past foregone. It can only consume those who may one day wander by. How do you set to rights this cosmically scaled and ridiculous wrong? Nothing separated the innocent and guilty. All know suffering here. Those silent voices crying for justice in this crypt the world has become. Echoes stirring in the dark. Awaiting a light which may never come. A shattered piece of darkness itself landed here. A tiny fraction of hate left to fester and grow. The weak of will, let it be. No warning would have been too great or dire to be given. None was.

Not the slightest alarm in the face of endless realms of emptiness. Silly, really. What can a little chunk of metal do? Perhaps more than you think. Coveting power is one thing. Wanting all of it is quite another entirely. Corruption is easy. Quick. By far more preferable to the surety and slow pace of truth. This means forgetting that truth is always the most painful and powerful weapon of all, facing it hurts. If you come to know the truth, you also come to know pain. These things are inextricably linked. How much pain would it take to make up for this? It might be the only way to pay for it. Suffering never needed to look far, now it need not look at all to find its hosts. All that live on, know this too well.

Good feelings become as fleeting as a passing heartbeat. The drums of war settled too late and left them this. The whole of nothing. In all the world not even one truly good thing left to reach out for. That hope was stolen away as well. The living might as well be the dead, for all the difference that distinction makes now. It is said the only real secrets keep themselves. What secret could possibly have lead to this, and why would anybody have kept it? Both sides thinking they had the answer, it was really the exact opposite. All were wrong and proven so by this end. Even in such utter defeat, neither side could ever admit they made a mistake. They were wrong. Left to wander in the dark, pained and humiliated.

Those who claimed to be protectors of the good could barely comprehend this failure, or accept it happened. Someone else must be at fault, anyone but themselves. It could never have been us. Where did the light of hope go? Why did it abandon us here? Is this really all life has left to offer? A dim and endless trudge towards death? There must be more. There has to be. The only real secrets are dangerous. No one should possess them for any reason. The daring may catch a fleeting glimpse, but they may not hold them. Not ever. The tipping point of insanity pushed beyond this boundary. This impassable line between death and life. Built up for so long, just to wither away?

The chiming clocks of the past are silent as to what time it is. Forever stopped at the exact moment both happiness and life failed to fulfil its promises. It didn't keep its end of the bargain. Where is the light? Where has it gone? Did it retreat into some unknown hiding place? Can it really have gone out? Where? The last vestiges of life cling to anything. Does it as well? Is it really so humiliating to have retreated before a formidable foe? The darkness never stops pressing in from all sides. The only goal it ever has is to extinguish the light. It has no thoughts, no feelings either, only an all-consuming goal. Make the light go out. Never knowing that without up, there is no down.

Time itself might as well have stopped along with the clocks. Maybe it did? There is certainly no progress here. Was something really so powerful as to destroy time? Nothing would have that lofty a goal, would it? The impression of a futile goal is all that gives. The just and the wicked, all have needs. Only difference is, there may not be any of the just remaining. On the wind the stifled voices of countless numbers whisper in vain, fix this wrong. There are few to hear it. This chasm of hollowness and hope. What hope can there be when life is very nearly stilled? The cracked and crumbling world sits idle, a vacuum of pain and sorrow.

Trotting along the forgotten roads of times past stirs only some unsettling resentment towards those who came before. All their grand roads lead nowhere. Relegated to the dimmest memories of haunted moments, that longing inside grows and gnaws, refusing to relent. Why? Why must we wander their broken domain? They left us absolutely nothing. What was wrong with them? What could have spurred the rulers of the world to let it come to this? Tears are all that is given. In the sorrowful dull light of day and the dread of night. Hope? The plight of the living leaves no room for that. With reckless abandon the world plunged into something rather less than chaos and this is where it landed.

A twisted grotesque caricature of itself. Winding roads once carved in better times left empty of all but the most stout. They do not wander out of bravery, that only ends your life faster. Necessity is all that drives now, or some sickness of spirit. Once soaring, the high hopes of bygone eras are shattered, erased. They built such colossal and mighty things. How did they fall? The great and powerful could not even defend one single city from their own weapons? This silence instilled across the land in a mere instant of weakness. The weak or the strong, it mattered not in the end. They both succumbed, to let the world collapse along with their failure. This insult to life is abhorrent.

If those still living knew what brought it all to a close, what could they think? Would it matter? The long history of the world is forever lost, sentenced to quiet indignation. A rare insight into the past all that can be found. Through long wandering and hardship, the pain just keeps piling on. The pressure, persistent and unbearable. A too heavy weight to chain the living. There are great things sitting there, rusting. Decaying. Relics, myths and legends withering away until none will know what they once were. They might even be useful if anyone understood them. Great buildings of old still stand and sway, eventually to fall. It might be an impressive sight when they do, if anypony were around to see it happen.

There are far more important things to worry about. Looking too closely only impresses a longing in sickened spirits needing rest they can never have. This is how it is, there is nothing more. Below and above there is only more of the same pain to be granted. The illusion of sanity and safety is only that. Imagining there are either here only means you have fallen for the same lie which took the rest. A gathering solely of the dregs is all there can be. Wishes are not given no matter how hard the cry for it to be so. This pervasive atmosphere of distrust, inherent anger and feeling of guilt holds sway over everything that is.

Many a song has gone unsung and unheard since the fires blistered and cracked the foundations of the world. Like many of the happiest things, most were lost to memory. It stirs some disturbing feeling of want and need inside always tugging at the hearts of the wearied. A forever nagging feeling pushing and tormenting from within. Do something, anything to make it feel right. Few listen, it invites a torment most unrequitable. Unable to reconcile all that is wrong sickens the minds of the wandering, though they know it not. There is no drive to set things to rights amongst the quavering voices of the wounded, and wounded they are. Good cheer is almost a thing unheard of.

Perhaps it stems from the same injury which sickens the world. The same poison that silences the stone and seeps into the bones. No greater embarrassment could have been meted out to the ponies of old than this future that has no future, where ponies dare continue the thinnest existence imaginable. This is what they wrought. No one wanted this, surely? This great lie which is the wastes is no reward. Opinions of the old world vary wildly, but they all land on this: This is wrong. Very few would disagree. Should they somehow come calling, the dead might hold a much different opinion of the now. Would the dead cry an endless lament for all the pain they left gifted to the living who followed them? They cannot help.

They are gone. Their histories forgotten, their triumphs negated, blackened. You know nothing of them, save for their having existed at all. Time unmoving leaves the world still. Motionless. What little life remains is battered, hardened against this reality. Each and every second drags on for its own small eternity in the dimness. The blackened husks of once great works all that remains as their legacy. Who can comprehend such madness which brought it to this? Would any care to try? The futility of such an endeavor may be madness itself. The deepest wounds are not always the ones carrying the most pain with them. Slight injuries can yield far more over the course of time.

A quick glance around is all it takes to confirm this as truth. The young once given hope, are generally given nothing here, save for a growing anger. Hopelessness. The roots ever twining tighter together as they pull the very foundations of life into the dark, piece by piece. What hope can there be for the empty? Each step only invites further disaster and misery. Every action a terrible gamble on instability. What terrible power wrought this? Once considered precious, time just ebbs away in the now. Should you not be able to look to your parents for guidance? In this world, they know of nothing more than pain either. They have nothing to offer. Maybe even less than that.

The downfall of all pony kind, and everything else pulled into the fold left you this. Forever on the march towards nothing. Searching, seeking. To what end you do not know. There must be something? You feel it inside. A great yearning, and nothing to fill the hole. What do you want? It cannot be told. Why must you live in this misery? There are no answers for you. Only that terrible need you cannot quell. For all your time it pushes and pushes, something inside saying this is not right. You can do nothing about it but feel anger. Do something? What is there to do? Was there ever truly a time when things were not like this? They all say so, before they too die, leaving you on your own once more.

There is nothing but ashes left to you, and the attendant misery. You were like the rest, once. Another simple wanderer looking for a home none can find. They say the misery that is life now is all there can be. The great ponies of old were punished for some unfathomable crime and all now live with this suffering, their punishment given over. Forlorn, hungry, thirsty. There is never enough of anything for you or anypony else around you. Little more than safety in what numbers you can maintain, and even that fails. Your goal as ever is nothing more lofty than living. If this can be called living. Parents, nor their children tend to live very long within this misery. Is there nothing more? Always sick, always weak.

You're so tired of it all already, but you can never get past that burning sensation deep in your gut. Sometimes it is the only thing pushing you to move on. You don't know why. The only thing you do know, is that you either grow up fast or not at all. Watching as most around you quickly pass. This is the best they can do? By now, you barely recall your parents faces. They were gone quickly. Why did they even bother with you? You might be angry with them if it weren't for the fact they suffered as much as you do now. Sometimes you find something almost nice. You do not trust it when you do. It never lasts. The merest hint that life may have actually been good for ponies at one time is like being chopped right in the throat.

A horrible pain that just won't stop. You know not of rest or peace. Did these luxuries ever really exist? On guard at all times, you can only wander. Recognizable faces come and go too quickly. She was pretty. You made the mistake of coming to care for her. Now she lies in a heap like so many others. Tears won't even come. You just leave her there in the dirt for the scavengers, if there are even any of those around here. Her body may lay there for a great long time, undisturbed. Maybe for all time. You give up caring. She is gone, and didn't take you with her. How dare she get to rest? It was a weakness. A hole in your heart. There is only one thing to do. Be angry. So very angry and bitter.

A chance meeting gives you pause and great consternation. A silent stallion wanders the wastes as many do, but he is not the same. An aimlessly fleeting flash. There and gone. He makes no sounds. He never speaks. Never interacts, then he is away. Carrying all the darkness of the world with him. Always watching from afar, then vanished. Little more than a passing shadow in a world of them. Sometimes one would catch the faintest glimpse of him out of the corner of their eye, glaring, and quiver. What does he want? Who could he be? Why is he here? With that his withering gaze and the abject terror they inflict are gone. He does not exist. An imagined threat where there are far more pressing real ones.

Never a further thought given. A meandering spirit following no particular path. Was he ever there? Just a trick of the mind. A pony with no weapons at all, daring to wander the wastes alone? He is not real, you are certain. A ghost story in passing. There is enough fear without a fake one. Who would be crazy enough to do that? You would die. Death is all that could await somepony like that. A chill down the spine. A strange noise from behind. Watch out. Again. He isn't real. A quick glance to be sure. Nothing. He is as fake as all the unfulfilled promises life made. Fearful hearts made gladder in knowing he was never there. You will not fear him.

Nothing more than the crazed rantings of burnt out souls still clinging to life, like you. An empty threat where definite ones exist. There are far more than enough real dangers to bother getting all panicked over an unreal one. A tricked mind is one prone to getting oneself painfully killed. In the wastes there is no certainty. Only scraping by, or not. The wrong choices add up far too quickly, and when they do. Catastrophe. No hope is offered here. Only the solace of life ending. Prayers will not be answered. Resources only exist in the smallest amounts, sprawled across the countryside. The only real way to live is to wander. Alone or together, when rumor tells you even that is a bad idea, what choice is left?

Take up anything that can be used as a weapon and go. That story comes by yet again. A seemingly aimless apparition, glaring back from the dark and gone. Good thing he's not real. You note how much power fear wields. A year passes in the haze of growing despair, and you hear another odd story from some very sickly ponies, sure to die soon. You listen to them only in the hopes of finding something more. Now, two ponies wander the wastes alone. She is insane even by the measures of insanity, there and gone again. An impossibility of all reason. A shadow just like him. A mare who who treads through flame and fire as if they mean nothing, bringing ruin with her. What are they talking about?

There is little left to ruin. She is just another apparition, as she must be. A ghost in the wastes. They seem plentiful now. How pathetic. There is something very wrong with these stories. Why are these ponies so afraid of nothing? It digs deeply into your mind. You offer the only thing you can, a faster end. They actually accept it, being even more ill than they initially let on. They could not muster the courage to do it to themselves. Hardly a scrap to take, but still better than nothing. Giving them their way out felt strangely good? Did you really do them a favor? It is a feeling you don't know, and one you probably will not feel again. By the same token, you wonder if you could do it either.

You did not promise to bury them or anything, only to end them and move on. The one charitable thing you could ever do, is done. There is nothing further to take from them than their lives. There they will likely lay untouched. You have witnessed this scene before. Do all trails lead only to this? A dreary end and nopony to care? You never bothered to ask their names, there was no point in doing so. There never is. The story they told nearly mirrors the other. What could it possibly mean? It does confirm your thoughts that fear is powerful. How far must you wander, for how long? Will it be only to end up like them? There might not be anypony to end your misery as you did theirs.

Looking over what you have done, for once you almost shed a tear. You turn and leave before that happens. Why bother? They meant nothing to you. Just some more garbage to be tossed aside amid the mountains of it. Maybe they even deserved it. There was little reason to find out whether they did or not. Who cares? You got something out of it for once. Grief and sorrow abound in the now, even quieter wastes. Step by step it deepens. Decay reaching ever further into what little remains. Soon to be swallowed whole, and forgotten for all time. The pervading misery gives rise to no hope. Only scattered tatters, and the slightest glimpse of anything resembling life.

The land forever waiting for a return of that which is not coming. Ponies and others trudging silently towards the only possible end. All light is rapidly extinguished in this void of hope and longing. It left long ago, leaving only fading memories. Memories which themselves are not quite solid. Did such a time ever really exist? When life could actually be happy? It does not seem possible. Not when everything only slowly gets worse. The light is not coming back, not even its reflection. There are supposed to be two sides to a bit. The dying embers of society still flicker occasionally. It amounts as all other things, to nothing. Settlements are barely able to hold together or supply themselves, let alone expand further.

Most fail at some point, to be abandoned. Creating more ghost stories. Without will nor hope, how could they go on? It is beyond hopeless. Futile. Impossible. Time to move on once again. The concept of a real home, long lost to them, and you. A place to be, a place to go and belong. There aren't any. Only the angry and the miserable. Rivalries and violence constantly being intensified by the lack of resources. Where are we going to go? Nowhere is good, and nowhere is happy. As things become ever more desperate, all the races of the world find themselves teetering right on the edge of absolute oblivion. The war did not quite wipe everyone out. It simply set the stage for even worse things to happen. No one cares.

You want something? Take it. By whatever means necessary. Everyone else does. Become violent, and murderous. Become so atrocious the other atrocious things fear you instead. Gripped with rage and hatred, take it all for yourself. Who cares, anyway? You want a say in things? Do it by force. Make them hear you, and if they don't like it? Boom. Solitude was something one once had to seek. Now it is the forever, stretching out in front. There is no reason in this, only an empty loneliness that cannot quite be conveyed. The wearying miles ahead always seeming to pull away and become longer. Is there no end to this road, rife with pain and some unassumed guilt that can never quite be shook off? We didn't do it.

Whoever did was pulled into the void along with most of the rest of everything. Somehow, the world still exists. A small anomaly that calls for nothing but more pain. The few remaining cannot pull so much more than a trigger. Failing even that, where is left to go? There is no safe haven granted to the begging. Then, your few and miserable companions die. Here, now, sometimes even being a slave means a continuance of living. A welcome change because it's not your fault. When something goes wrong, it was their doing instead. You have given up. Even if you die, at least they can't blame you this time. Eventually even they have no further use for you and toss you aside. Only, you don't die.

For whatever reason you continue living. For some unexplained reason you find this maddening. Anger takes ever deeper hold of your heart and you follow suit, doing as they once did. Fighting your way through the ranks. You never felt so powerful before. They all look to you with fear, now. At last you feel some meaning to your existence, drinking it in. Fear is what they know of you. Now, if you die, you did something. They knew savagery before, you will instill it even deeper within them. That biting drive to take. If this is all that can be, you will take all of it for yourself. Soon, other raiders and slavers come to join. You will make them pay for even asking.

Some may still prove worthy of the fear you will grind into them with your own hooves. You know the wastes, and the ponies in it are weak. The weak have no place here. Is that all the world can muster against you? They are pathetic. Were you really just like the rest? Forget friends, fear is where the real power is. If nothing else, the ghost stories have taught you this. You know that with time, you will be ground into dust just like the rest. It doesn't matter at all. For a time at least, somepony may actually remember your face once you're gone. This is an achievement beyond measure. It has taken all you could muster to do it, but now you rule this ragtag band of raiders, and they fear every step you take.

Every time you raise your voice, every time you threaten and push them to do what you want and none other. You are strong, the strongest there is. They would do well to remember it. The few remaining shiny things are yours to take, preferably by force. Still, you don't kill those who put up no resistance. Much to your little bands perturbance. A good bash across the muzzle takes care of any doubts they have. This is no kindness to them. Sometimes they make good slaves. You recall being one once. It is just their turn to suffer. Maybe it will make them strong as it did you. It is either that or they can die. Either choice is little better.

You almost feel a bit of sympathy for them, then promptly recall nopony was ever willing to help you either, or was there? Something about a mare. Maybe she meant something to you once. Who cares? Take and take and take. It all belongs to you. You are almost living the good life. That is of course, impossible. You are just stamping your hooves and putting on a show. A good fight once in a while livens things up. It is usually too long in between. Always nice to see one of your followers get gunned down in a momentary haze, one less worthless muzzle to stuff and put up with. It almost makes you feel alive for a change. It is gone too quickly.

You have come to understand the fact you must keep the slightly smart ones around. Thankfully they tend not to get killed quite as easily. Thinking was never an easy thing for you. They might be smarter than you, but not more ruthless or terrifying. Keeping them in line is only a matter of inflicting pain and terror at the right moment. Something you have learned well. They will follow you, or they will follow no one. You know when to extinguish them. The exhilaration of infliction is all you live for now. A great deal of time passes in this manner. Years later, there is that one story again. Why won't it go away? A miserable spectre, glaring. Never proven. Stirring up fears even further and causing strange reactions.

If they're more afraid of nonexistent ghosts than you, this is a problem. You can't fight a ghost. It has no limbs to lop off. No body to stab. No head to cave in. What do these mindless apparitions want? What are you thinking? They were never there. Probably just some random wastelanders seen at a distance. Giving rise to nonsense stories. There is no end to this. Only more violence to engage in. Beat it into them that you are more to be feared than some apparition. They will soon forget all about them. The glaring eyes they fear in the dark should be yours. Anything else is unacceptable. Make them bow to your will and yours alone. That is how it must be. They will soon come into line. Whoever is left. That's better.

If they need something to fear, fearing you is by far the better choice. Let any ghosts roam elsewhere. It is of no consequence. This place is yours now. Both can stay away. They are dead things, and the dead do not belong among the living. Slipping back into the mire, the stories fade into more jumbled half-forgotten memories as you wander and terrorize. This is kind of fun. So many years pass and then, one springs up again. A pony with a withering stare never quite truly seen who wanders the wastes, alone. What prompts this figure to return, time and time again? Just after he is forgotten, he is there once more. On it goes. Ghoulish figures and beasts are not entirely uncommon in the wastes. This is different.

Why does this perfectly average pony strike fear into all those catching the faintest glimpse? What could possibly be so frightening about a normal pony? Angry faces are not uncommon either. It comes and goes. This story fades yet again towards being nothing more than a figment of the imagination, only to arise again years later. It fights you to no end and no avail. You do realize, these stories of ghosts are what made you strong and fearsome. They have done you a favor, really. Granted you power. Having lived a truly long life, you have seen and heard much. Left an indelible mark on those to come after. A legend in your own time. Somehow, you did it. As one of the few raiders ever to reach old age, you wonder.

This life actually turned good for you. A decade or two here and there, and here comes the story yet again. Your long life is thanks to those miserable ghosts and their stories, they made it so. Over and over. Always nipping at your hocks. Pressing and angering you. Somewhere in your blackened heart there is some thankfulness for those stories, they made you strong and kept you that way. It has been such a long road. Finally, it is time. You gravely warn the last challenger you will ever face that not only will you not go down easily, they will face what you have faced. Beings who are neither here nor there, always usurping your authority in their nonexistence. He will remember your words.

Soon, a tremendous battle ensues. Giving your final challenger the scars he will need to prove himself and lead. You've got plenty of them. It was an epic battle. You finally fall, dying, exhilarated. What is yours is now his. You gave a sound bashing he and those gathered will never forget, before coming up just short. This is as it should be. A fitting end for you. What is this deep inside? You feel, truly happy? Of all the things you have ever felt, this one feeling is new to you. As this world slowly slips from sight you wonder, what awaits? In death will you finally know the truth of the ghosts? Are such things revealed when you slip from this?

You don't know if you made the right choices along the way or could have done any differently. The wearying years hung more heavily upon your conscience than you could admit to yourself, and now you welcome your end. You have known naught but brutality for so long. Let somepony else cause hurt and be hurt now. There has been enough pain and blood for you. Through these many years you have given enough back to be satisfied at last. The assembled raiders cheer your passing. Some of them do grow slightly concerned by the unsettling smile locked on your face in death. Perhaps it will start a rumor of its own. That would please you to no end.

Your face, your actions, and name may actually be remembered for a time. More than you ever hoped for.

Hmph. Shadowy ghost ponies, how ridiculous is that?

Ketchup Fountain, or, What Happened To Magnificent

Raisin Barn Cereal. A barnful of raisins in every bowl! Huh? Waking to find himself laying on his side he started awake to see a hazy image of the strange advertisement flicker in and then out of existence in front of him. What the hay was that? Was it even really there? Is this a dream? It just dissipated into nothing. There appeared to be a large fountain with a pillar in the middle a short distance away, running over with..was that blood? What is this? That better not be blood. Hold on a second, it looked more like, ketchup? He groaned and winced, feeling somewhat stiff all over. Then it hit him.

"My head. Wait. Wait, what happened? I remember firing an empowered spell compaction round at that crazed robot. Could I be dead?" He muttered. Something else was amiss about this whole thing already. He still wore his heavy armor which was amazingly fully intact. If he was really dead, that wouldn't be right, would it? He tried to get to his hooves and turned his head only to find there did not seem to be any ground beneath him to get on to. It was such an ill sensation.

"Whoa, what!?" Despite seeming to be laying on his side, he really wasn't laying on anything. He pawed at the air, it somehow felt solid under his hoof, like walking on gelatin which somehow gave traction.

His mind reeled at the realization he could walk in any direction at will, feeling dizzy and sick at the sight of really only endlessness anywhere he looked. Up, down, anywhere. There was nothing anywhere. Nothing asides the strange fountain which oriented itself to whatever way he choose to turn so as to remain upright. How strange. It proved to actually be full of flowing ketchup. Why would somepony make a fountain with ketchup in it? Everything was weird. Being able to move like this might have sounded appealing otherwise, but only illness was felt from it in this instance. Someone else was here.

An ancient and sickly looking unicorn whose very skin appeared to be sagging and wearing robes of a sort unseen in ages flitted in and out of his vision. Who could that be? He was both there and not.

"Hello? Where am I? Who are you? What is this place?" As he spoke the pony was quite suddenly in front of his muzzle, then nearly collapsed. Magnificent reached out to hold him up, as strange a thing as it seemed in this place that appeared to have no up or down, solidity, or any kind of direction at all really. The pony looked and must have been ludicrously old, wheezing heavily. His muzzle didn't move, yet he heard him speaking inside his head as clear as a bell pealing.

"I am..I was the guardian. It has almost been broken. You must go back. Stop him, you're the only one that can!" He implored, almost begging. His tone indicated an utter seriousness.

"What has almost been broken? Guardian? Stop who from doing what?" He questioned. This didn't make any sense at all, nothing here did. That reeling sensation was not lessening and his head was feeling worse just from looking at sheer void around himself.

"There's no time! I used all my remaining power to save you, go now. I can just manage it. Stop him!" Manage what?

The ancient unicorn stallion seemed to use the very last of his strength to wave a hoof, and vanished as the everything and nothing swirled in a maelstrom around him. Stop who, from doing what? A terrific tugging feeling took the handsome unicorn and everything went dark. He awoke with a start to find himself splayed out laying on real ground this time, still in his armor. What was that all about? Was that a dream? How long was he out of commission? The chronometer appeared to state it was several days since the battle. How could that be? Where were Traveler and Tanner? He was alone. Carefully moving to get up, he checked his armor systems which reported fully functional despite the hammering it took.

What a tough machine, he thought. Finding himself heavily panting he took a sip of water from the internal storage tank. Good thing he always refilled it when stopped. There were no friendly or hostile tags. He was in good physical condition according to the armor readouts. Whew. The positioning system read that somehow, he was quite a few miles back from where the fight took place. What in the world? He would have to walk them again to stand any chance of finding the others. This was ridiculous. Maybe he really did die, or this was some kind of delusion. What if he was really unconscious somewhere, dreaming all of this? It made little sense. What was that old unicorn raving about?

Without any companions this trek was going to be very long indeed. He tried the suit radio, nothing but a disquieting static greeted his ears.

"So, am I alive or what? That had to have been a dream, right? I hope this isn't a dream right now.." Stating this to himself didn't help. It was that dull, dreary time still called day. Better get moving, the same way he'd already been.

"Here we go, again." He sighed, a strange mix of exasperation, annoyance and frustration taking hold as he set out to march the very same path he already took. He was no stranger to traveling alone, but this was so extremely strange.

A mile passed, then two. His friendly tag indicator popped into being as he caught sight of a pale pink unicorn and a young colt, both of whom looked like they'd seen a ghost. Perhaps they did, he thought to himself and carefully announced his presence. Better not scare them off. They may have seen his friends pass by. He hoped to find them both in good health.

How very odd.

Legend Redux

The wise old zebra would not be telling the expected continuation of her story today. They would hear something necessary to their understanding of the rest, first. She rose in front of the old stewing pot which served for near as long as she told the stories.

"You come to hear of Whiskey The Queen, ears pricked, intent and keen. The sheen on your faces I must alas smear, so it may seem mean. Much as most of you now in places you've not been, long ago I met another unseen. In a little cabaret from the times which came after and not before, my intent to kill ponies was ever so sure." She paused a moment to stir and tend the bubbling communal cauldron before her, letting those words sink in, to a hushed murmur from the gathered crowd. As expected. The soup smelled delicious. Very few of this small ragtag clan experienced the world of then. It was still a harsh reality today, but they enjoyed a relative peace with those who wandered by now and had enough to live, love, and trade with. Almost free of the enmity of times past. Almost.

Few of them knew the myriad horrors laid rest from those times. Terrors near unspeakable did exist here and now, but they were not kin to the great and vile disturbances of the past. Some almost forgotten entirely. As expected.

"In far off lands stands a tower, rife with power. I watched them both there as ante up one did declare, and lay her cards upon the table in despair. Goals unclear, to a terrible cheer, which rose from ghastly hosts soon to appear." She continued stirring the pot at a slow, almost hypnotizing pace. Graceful, measured. It was all part of this act.

"Nearabouts all our kind once felt a terrible chill, some electric thrill pushing us to make ill. War and suffering were brought, all nearly for naught, and left all the world you see to be caught. In maelstrom and devilry there, it all lay ruined and good still to be sought." There was a sad shimmer to her voice with these words, all present could perceive it. As expected. A tenseness of raw memory few ever saw upon her face. A tear rolled.

"Forgive me my moment, there are many things behind, soon to be spoken of in kind. Like a springed clock we wind, moments themselves can be snapped you might find. You all know what misery we sometimes face, what terrible cards may be given like so many shards of painted glass fallen from grace. A bringer of light and darkness back then I faced, to find myself utterly disgraced." The crowd looked to each other in recognition as she knew they would. Just as expected.

They'd never heard these particular stories despite how many she told through the years. Knowing not the miserable time spent in the wrong of things. Like all others they knew the basics all know, the emotions all feel. This was not the same. Memories of struggles so long past even she herself barely recalled them all, but they were held in her memory because of their sheer importance. The weight of memories such as those do not leave us, it came to her mind. They were far too weighty to really forget.

"One day long ago, in far away lands when we made our last stands at a time most abhorrent, two doors sprung open near at the same moment as if some kindly mistake made for the sole amusement of torments. A third, another about all near pink, a story for another time I think. Through unreasoned choices I sought to kill one with a compact horn, not knowing it would prove a painful thorn. Her record stands as undefeated, you've heard of her I should say, to have not there is simply no way." She smiled at them knowingly, eyes glinting as the entirety of the intently listening zebras gathered here began to comprehend and fully realize what she was speaking of in sheer surprise. It could not have been otherwise.

As expected, many of them began to ask excitedly as she raised a hoof to urge their silence.

"Steep prices we all paid, to have our oblivion stayed." She was quiet a moment and tested the soup. Almost ready. She gazed out over the crowd. So different from then, even some visiting trade ponies were among them. Friendly faces now. So different.

"In times past for awful moments we played, that terrible game for which there is no aid. Near tragic a mistake in the shade, though neither ever obeyed any of the silly rules I thought I made. As they were then alas due to age, be forgiving as I make my exit from upon the stage." Just like the last time, the crowd was disappointed by the sudden end to these as yet untold stories. As expected, but the soup was ready to be served.

"Return to sip of this fine vintage a day and half hither, do not let your curiosity wither." She stepped away from the slightly raised platform behind the old cauldron after giving them that little prod, not that any of them needed it. Others would mete out the tasty creation amongst the little clan as she walked back to her humble abode. Not a drop would be wasted, the old storytellers cooking was as much a draw as the stories themselves and rivaled only her storytelling in craft. The clan would not realize for some time yet, there was even more meaning backing her words this time. As expected, but it was not quite time yet. The telling of this was a reward to herself, something she'd held in reserve for all these years.

A treat for their ears and her own. There would be just enough time to enjoy it fully, savoring every reaction. This was a good day. As expected. Once again she gazed at a treasured worn photograph well taken care of. For her it was a prize beyond measure as it represented a moment of truth and joy unparalleled at any other time of her life. She would share this treasure at a later date. A moment captured in time by what was once a common contraption using little more than light, shadow and paper. There was an oddly large amount of it still laying around long after the war ended. What did they use all that paper for?

There was still so much out there in fact that there would be no need to find out how to make more for a very long time to come. When it was taken she wondered at the odd marvel it popped out of. She'd been told the old empire was known for impressive technological prowess before the war, did they make it or was it the culmination of some unicorn experiment? Ah well. It might never be known. She settled in to rest, thinking of old memories long untold. Everything was going as expected.

Bet you were expecting to me to say "As expected." Oh..wait.

Where Ponies Dare

Who is it that walks these withered, wasted lands, spreading further misery and darkness? Why? What force is it that compels, drives such ponies and others beneath them to perform these vicious acts of some danse macabre? Is it just a fleeting flicker in the dark, some remnant of memory given to put on a wicked performance? Something more? Something less? This unwanted deathly dance began long before war brought all semblance of planning or order to an ultimate end. Leaving only sadness to disperse from the heavens. Both the above and the below sit in the same misery given to all who still tread here. A chill silence all that was left when that blistering night fell, and all things stopped.

A dead halt given to everything, leaving little to nothing for any that dared survive. The imagined balance between that which was right, wrong or anything in between, unimaginably proven undeniably to be powerless in any way. Clinging to morality is painful when everything is out to kill one another. Giving up truth and justice is by far the easiest path to walk. Quick and easy to fall into, and fall into it just about everything did. An all-consuming hole where supposed righteousness once stood. Did the great army, stoic and battle-hardened not stand for what is right and good? Surely, they thought to protect, to serve justice as they saw it? Were they wrong to stand against the rising tide of war? Who knows now?

The last moments came, and rapidly overwhelmed all response to it. Was any action appropriate then? Standing idle or off to war, what did it matter? That which is cosmically pointless does not ask for permission to be so. Like the reality of the moment, it just is. The dead wastes are the reality and have been for just short of two centuries. Static. Empty. This is a span of time few are capable of recognizing. Yet, some who do understand it, exist. Their wandering is the most painful of all. Some imagine they know the true nature of pain. For the few who truly know, it is not that sharp stab in the dark. It is a companion most unwanted, unbidden, and refuses to leave. Dull and seeming endless, it hovers near unseen. Tormenting.

Who belongs to these hooves clacking in the dark, as they perpetuate such strife, and draw down what little life is left in their wake? The company of death is the one constant in the wastes. A wrongly turned corner all it takes to end a life, but what is this? What at this very moment causes whoever or whatever it may be, to choose to gather and enlist such power of force and violence, spreading it out across what little remains? The sheer futility of this, baffling anyone still clear enough of mind and vision to see what is happening around them. These moments are dead and blind as they have been for all these ageless years, why now? Some are beginning to wonder.

Those strong enough to wander start to see the vaguest picture that even amongst this, something is even more wrong. Something in this mosaic puzzle does not fit, amiss. Disturbingly askew, as is the nature of many things left to this crying and dead world. Very few can look across this land of bleakness and diluted color to see the whole of the scenery. The pervading silence occasionally punctuated by violence is all that has been known for so long. It must appear to be normalcy. A solemn moment for the poets play, then slipped away. Pain long held inside, simmers and bubbles its way to the surface. Somewhere this thin line against the encroaching bleakness must be drawn.

The distant rumblings drawing ever closer. Those who can still muster the tears to weep, stand in their own muffled silence. A call to action has not come in forever. Would they even know how to respond to such a request? The sleeping sun long done, and sisters cold stars no longer seen above, give any reassurance. Looking askance plays no sympathies here. There is nothing to look down on. That privilege ended with the rest of the world. No horror too twisted can lurk, no pain too deep, so as to engulf entirely. The bottomless chasm opened on this place, and in mere seconds it was no more. Naught but the depth of enduring quiet lingers, to creep over all that is and bring it to an ultimate end.

An end all but absolutely assured. Somehow, life still stands. The ponies of yesteryear, in all their storied glory. So powerful and keen, what would they say of this? This cannot have been wanted by anyone. It is a most fruitless ending. None worse than all things gone. More than a bitter pill, it is simply nothing. They might say the world was alive. How could we have let this happen? It is far too late for that. It did happen, and this is the remainder. All that waits to fall and, inevitably, fail as age takes all of it. A situation careening downhill at ever faster pace until it became little more than this. It hurt them while they lived. It hurt them while they died, and it keeps right on hurting them in death.

Haunted looks on gaunt faces was the only thing offered when it fell apart, and the world died with them. Fall apart it did, in a slow circle encompassing the whole of things. Lofty ideals fall on deaf ears once they have been proven inadequate. Nothing is more proof of inadequacy than outright failure to be held up. All they fought for, all their hope gone in a quick flicker, a final sputter of the light. It left them this place, full of hopeless denial. What greater pain could there be? You shouldn't ask such questions. By then, anyone left must have known better. That instant when hope dies and strength fades, indelibly etched into whatever memory remains. Perhaps it is punishment.

Some meting out of mocking justice, but did the survivors really deserve to be given over to this? A hollow existence with no room for hope, is no existence at all for some. This kind of mockery is reserved for only the most stupendous, the most uproarious of follies. What other label could be stamped upon this record of enduring failures? Their deaths given no meaning, and no memory. Names long lost, never to be recalled by a single living soul. Forgotten, not even buried. Just dead with the rest. There are none left to call for redress, to ask for forgiveness, or to right anything wrong. If that could or can be granted is a matter in itself. It isn't discussed, with no one left to care for it. No one to ask, and no one to know.

Downhill is but one direction. There was to be no climbing back up. From once antagonistic tribes, the ponies of times past eventually threw aside their differences, and flourished together. Inviting others into the fold, but their counterparts barely held together at the best of times. Orders and empires came and went, but one would hold onto the past too tightly and fall, only to rise again. The loose affiliations of a fallen empire coalesced once more, eventually to wind up in direct opposition to the ponies grand ideals of unification and harmony under a single flag for the whole of the world. This flag held high for well over a millennia. Far longer still. Solid. Strong. An intimidating prospect to fall to the wayside before it.

How bright and shiny it looked from afar. Despite the once shiny veneer, rapidly advancing technology took toll beneath it. Too quickly, it outpaced the control of its very creators. This sweeping shift in needs was so fast, becoming so central to development that it took even the most pessimistic by surprise. In the blink of an eye the power needs of an entire country became just short of impossible to meet. All magic is of limited scope and power. Not up to the task of so much need, they turned to coal. Coal, coal and more coal to feed all their new machines was abundant elsewhere, but not here. So far from home, what trade deals could be struck for it were passed. Amended, passed again. Again and again.

Each time, more for less. An untenable situation suited only to piling on pressure to forge ahead with alternate solutions, and solutions were found. With no clear out, and the issue looming, spark reactors were created in response. The potential became clear. The dangers inherent to this new thinking, somewhat less so. Even still, it would not have been enough. Any reason and any excuse used to pull everything towards and through war. What was a lie and what was not? There is no one left to say. Maybe there is more to all this, perhaps there isn't. What is always clear, how little from all of then, still stands. A sudden descent from on high to this barrenness, with only glints of bright memory remaining.

Following a path, to them the only path. It lead to war, as it could lead nowhere else. A winding trail from which there was no escape. Inexorably they were pushed, pulled, prodded. Guided through interminable trail to their oblivion. Save us, they would all cry and look to those they felt their saviors. Nothing of the sort. That illusion was its own type of folly. Neither encouraged or suppressed. Finding they could do no more to save themselves than anyone else. What a cruel joke, to find the very source of their hope just another font of despair. Choices made in hurried moments rarely come out right or well. Not through all their history did they face this great and grave a threat. Ever present. Slow.

So slow it might have seemed unmoving, but always closer. Closer and closer to war, and then it was there. A jarring thorn in the side, only a little pain. At most a pinprick, surely. In the face of this, always disinformation given, the appearance of strength and unity in the face of a terrible and quickly proving unrelenting enemy. Mayhaps, the only real choice was to do so. For near a full twenty years they fought valiantly to hold the line, and it did hold. All who went to fight did so through no other compulsion than to defend what they felt rightfully theirs to uphold. None were forced into it, beyond circumstance. Keep them at bay, until victory. The very day nearly upon them and then stolen at the last.

No more perfect timing for cruelty could be asked. Ripe for one further sting, before the abyss took them. A dim and faded day, still regarded with dread even past the memory to truly recall it. There in that moment so many stand, forever awaiting their victory. It would never come. Static. Motionless. Hopeless. It might be suggested they could never win. Perhaps those powerful ponies of olden days long past should have forced the issue far earlier and with all the might they could muster. The faintest glimmer of a moment to do so may have presented itself once. One time only. Such opportunities do not reveal themselves lightly, and never for a second time. Pain remained.

Their moment come and gone via the most insidious and unjust joke of all. They never saw it. Hopes shattered and left strewn about like so much useless debris. Leading to the now, and the now is worry. Want. Misery. What do the eyes see ahead? A single fork in the path. He knew Manehattan was really only part of a much larger area, just never knowing how truly immense not only the surrounding city, but the surrounding country truly was. His master told tales of far off lands and places so far away they could never be reached, yet they were out there, somewhere. Never expecting to travel so far from home, or ever need to leave, left him listless and forlorn.

Nervousness and worry haunted his every hoofstep into the great unknowns of which he could only formerly imagine. This was unwanted adventure. Though roaming was in his nature, it was of familiar surroundings, always with somepony he cared for as his mentor. Teacher, master..father. Tears were something he was not totally unfamiliar with, but never for a reason like that visited upon them both. One unfortunate encounter left him wondering if there was truly any power of good left in the entire world. A world which rapidly seemed to be hurtling into some great darkness the likes of which his mind could not comprehend. A creeping chill took him from time to time as he walked.

It felt like several eternities passed already since the last time he saw a friendly face. Anything he would know as a face even. The strange creatures he squared off against since leaving seemed altogether otherworldly, not even really knowing the word. Only the disturbing feeling that what was wrong here warranted great respect. Were they just evil? Not ponies. They looked like them, but that was where any comparison ended. The poor girl he was forced to kill was something else as well, what was that? Why would anyone do something so terribly cruel to another? It defied any reason he could come up with. The dreams were insidious, painful even. Always so full of pain, suffering and sorrow.

Each time it was like drowning in an endless ocean of regrets. Shadows around every corner, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Each dream felt worse than the last. It felt like it was seeping into his very being every time it happened. Once desiring only time spent with his master, the world about him now was pain and misery. Lonely, empty roads built ages past by those with far more knowledge than he. Death seemed to stalk every hoofstep, each new day felt amiss and entirely askew. This could not be right. Was it truly death itself roaming these streets, hunting him down? Surely, he was not worth that kind of attention? Nary a clue and no guess could clarify the abysmal days behind him.

Battle after battle just to leave the north end of the city had each taken their toll. Exhaustion was not something he was used to on a continual basis. Some strange insanity took hold of reality here. What else could explain it? Were things ever truly sane? The world about did not seem to suggest it was ever so. Now, half-imagined and some definitely real apparitions seemed poised to jump out at any moment and end his life. He was not quite ready to simply give it over to some unknown and hope that what comes after would in any way be better than this was. As luck seemed to stand at this moment, to his imagining it could very well be worse. Deadly, grotesque things thus far failed to end him.

Was this something to be proud of? There was no way to tell. Each encounter left no chance to glean real information, certainly nothing helpful or informative about all of this. Did any of this even have an answer or meaning? Would finding an answer prove to be a grand revelation, or something meaningless overall?

"What is going on around here? This has all gone crazy!" The pony who called himself Bolt, ran across one of the once grand thoroughfares of the old city. Once bustling to near beyond capacity with the comings and goings of all.

The city itself was not nearly as large as all it contained, being forever built upwards and outwards into the ocean surrounding the island it lay atop. Left intact in tattered manner, yet vulnerable. After long hardship he'd at last found a way to slip past the ever present looming walls of black flames encircling his former home. The creepy silent fire which burned at a fever pitch and seemed to spout endlessly without pause high into the sky. A truly confounding situation presented itself to him and lead to no answers, only further puzzles of no clear origin. Bad dreams seemed to both plague, and save him on several occasions as if in dire warning of approaching doom.

On no less than six occasions he'd been forced to fight, with no compulsion to do so. Being attacked so violently and injured numerous times left only a sad feeling of desperate need for action. The presence of other ponies, always of little or no interest to him was now desired dearly. He was still all alone.

"There have got to be others, there has to be somepony somewhere!" He complained audibly to himself, trudging along to the north, then west, almost in tears. Having finally managed to leave Manehattan proper felt a mixed blessing. Far from home, alone, embittered over his dead master and hurting inside and out was almost too much to bear.

Being unable to search or even reach many parts of the city left him with no way to know if anypony there yet survived. It was unfathomable to even think them all dead, seeming impossible despite low numbers. A barely legible sign hidden above on a thoroughly impressive though decrepit stone outcropping read to him as 'Ponyworks Facility One.' Whatever that meant. With no small amount of trepidation he now dared to venture through this enormous underground tunnel which appeared to lead straight out from the shore and under the water for miles, and actually appeared to connect to the mainland going by a dingy visual map on the wall. He barely knew what a map was, but it was there.

It was protected by a sheet of glass which kept it barely visible through the accumulated grime. Why would they have made such a thing? As if at some time purposely built to be concealed from the very sky above. It was by no means easy to reach this tunnel through any imagining of the term, stumbling upon it nearly entirely by sheer fortune. It was another unknown amongst many.

"I never heard of anything like this before, I wonder what he would have thought of it? It's frightening and amazing that they built something like this. How did they do it? Why did they make it?" His mind raced over the possibilities.

Most interesting of all, lights above buzzed and emit an eerie hum as he strode beneath them in awestruck amazement. He held no idea of such things or how they operated. Almost as interesting as the glowing terminal on the wall, well inside the entrance. Probably to keep it out of any weather. It looked worn and old and near useless. He set down his now much lighter packs. Near half the water he carried when setting out on this sojourn was consumed now. It took so incredibly long to find a way out of the north end of the city he'd been beginning to wonder if he would ever have the chance to see another pony again. A thought that though a solitary sort, made his blood run cold.

He positioned the packs against the wall and lay back against them, huffing out of sheer exhaustion. If it was not safe here, then it was safe nowhere. Normally his first thought would be to mess with the old terminal, having so few chances to do so ever before. He felt cold, miserable, and tired. Just staring at the nearly comforting glow from the screen. He normally felt so fascinated by such technology, barely ever having been near to it. Likely he would mess with it later, if only to give himself something else to think about for a change. Anything to take his mind off the current situation. He slipped into sleep. Nearly delirious from being so tired, it took him quickly. He fought to stay awake, but just could not any longer.

It felt unsafe to sleep lately, dangerous. Several times it almost got him killed, but it was necessary. He knew this very well. Without proper rest from time to time anyone would become ever more vulnerable, and that had to be avoided as much as possible. Especially now. Crazed creatures seemed to stalk his every step within the city, and even in his own dreams. Such a dark and dreadful feeling passed each time, one of consuming and sad misery from which there was no escape. It was likely alright to rest easy this time. Nothing could possibly have seen or followed him this far, into such a place, surely? A deep slumber took hold and for the first time in much too long, a welcome rest was granted.

Many hours passed as his body relaxed and his mind finally relented to allow such luxury as real rest. A deep sleep he'd not been allowed in what felt like forever. His eyes slowly opened to the same scene as he left it. Relieved and finally given proper rest worked miracles.

"Thank goodness. I needed that. I must have been out of it for a really long time. I actually feel normal." Bolt exclaimed satisfactorily to himself. The terminal across the way beckoned as it must have done since being so abruptly left to whatever fate befell such things. Now that he could think straight once more, two things became apparent.

A couple things he was unfamiliar with seemed to lead off endlessly down the tunnel. Steel beams which glinted in what dull light was given. The other was that the terminal was actually open and displaying several options. A constantly flickering line of text rolling across the top read 'Emergency'. How strange. Whatever it meant. Unlike the few terminals he saw before, this one only possessed a few numbered buttons. It just seemed to be begging for somepony to finally push one, after all the years gone by while it sat alone unseen. It listed several options:
1. Summon cart
2. Call track maintenance bot
3. Call security bot

"Ooh, what's this?" He couldn't help but feel a bit excited. This terminal was open, asking for no password and practically offering to do something. Would it be helpful? Dangerous? Slowly he lifted a hoof towards the buttons, hovering over them shakily for a long moment before putting it back down. He panted, shivering a bit in the dim tunnel.

"I don't know what any of this might do. Is it worth it? What if it causes more craziness? Maybe I should.. No. No fear now. That will not save me or anypony else. Remember what he taught you, make a choice." He admonished himself. Lifting his hoof he pushed in the number 1 block. Might as well start at the beginning.

He jumped back slightly as the terminal lit up brightly, stating 'Emergency power only. Terminal station 3 blocked. Cart arriving.' What did all that mean? It then indicated with scrolling numbers '8 seconds' which slowly went down. Bolt was very unsure at this moment. Should he be getting out of here? To his surprise, as it reached zero a hidden door to the side slid open and a rusted looking steel thing on wheels spilled itself onto the tracks which sparked slightly. It looked entirely ancient. On top of it was what looked like a grimy, smaller version of the terminal, stating 'Do not touch opposing rails simultaneously at any time, enter cart.' That bang and the sparks did not serve to calm his nerves.

He went about gathering up his packs, his heart rate returning to normal. The packs were not quite as comfortable as they once were due to a singed strap. Still, it was better that than them being destroyed. They were one of the few physical things which held truly good memories for him. Their weight was something familiar, good. Calming in their own right. He was glad to have them. Now for it. Would getting on this thing prove useful? Deadly? The old things necessitated caution. Once he did, there might be no going back on the decision.

"As long as I see it coming, that's all I ask." He said aloud, not really expecting anything to answer such a prayer.

Did anything, ever? As he approached the strange contraption one side of it swung down to open a step up to the inside of the cart. It took a lot of nerve, but he finally just stepped up into the thing, whatever it really was. It proved not exactly roomy, but there was enough space for the packs and to lay right down if necessary. As he did so it felt like the floor clicked down a little bit. As this happened the dull green screen, covered in dirt from time long gone also offered out three square numbered buttons which extended themselves with an odd whirring noise. It was somehow sad feeling, these machines left to themselves so long ago.

Whatever it was, this thing seemed solid and extremely heavy as he pondered which button to press:
1. Terminal Progression
2. Mainland (6572726f72)
3. Call assistance

"What does any of this mean? Well, the first one worked..I guess. Might as well continue." Reaching out to ever so gently push in the button the cart lurched forwards, almost making him fall onto the floor.

After this the cart steadied out and slowly rolled down the unused tracks, sparks occasionally sputtering off the wheels in protest as it inched its way forwards down the long unused rails. It was not at all fast, but he watched in quiet reflection as it rolled along. This was truly amazing. They once had and knew how to make things like this? The slight rocking motion was almost making him feel a little ill, but it passed eventually. Even this novelty began to wane as it simply went on and on. Not any less enthused, this was just slow.

"Easier than walking anyway. I better not get used to this, it could break or something. I might as well get comfortable for now though." Laying back, he watched the ceiling passing by. The slightly stuttering lights were dim, but interesting. The continual buzz lulled him back to sleep. What was probably a very long time later he awoke with a start at a horrible screeching noise and the cart grinding to a quick halt as he was nearly thrown up against the terminal, but simply fell back and banged his head. That was new.

"Oww.' He gently rubbed the back of his head and neck. That was quite a jolt, and very much not a fun way to wake up.

Slowly he regained his senses, cautiously peeking up over the top to see the track ahead obstructed with a fair amount of debris. The ceiling clearly buckled and caved in a bit here. It was probably just age. Luckily it hadn't completely given way or the entire place would probably be flooded. That would have made this entire effort pointless. This could also be a real problem as it was. The screen stated 'Terminal station 3. Track obstructed.' No kidding. Always in that same green color, looking at it too long almost felt like it was giving him a headache. Looking around revealed there to be a few more of those sliding doors off to the sides, closed. They must have their own tracks or other things behind them.

As curious as he was, he did not want to push his luck. This situation could be a pain to deal with. He was at what appeared to be a similar station to the first, just short of it in fact. That this entire facility wasn't completely destroyed must have meant it was truly constructed solidly. Staring at the rubble and heavy beam halting his progress, he began to wonder how the ponies of old could ever possibly have been reduced to this poor standing from such staggering heights and ability in the times of old. Times he only barely knew about from stories told in reverent sadness and probably mistaken as to the truth of things.

"Well, they really were just ponies I suppose. Stallions, colts. Mares, fillies and foals. They just knew what I do not. Stop being intimidated, get moving." He knew he'd taken to speaking to himself, but knew no other way to keep himself motivated and focused when all he really wanted to do was be at home. No, home was gone. Forever. The only thing that made it home was his beloved master. He stepped down out of the strange machine to once again hear his hooves barely making a sound.

"Well this is a pain." He stretched a bit. The knock to the head wasn't that hard, mostly surprising.

It did hurt, but would pass quickly. Surveying the situation he could think of little to do just yet. Despite his nature and disposition, moving all this himself would take more strength than he could muster right now. It might even be too heavy anyway. Despite his strength, this fallen beam was immense. Perhaps another strange contraption could be summoned. Approaching the terminal on the platform did not prove this to be so. The old machine simply displayed 'Locked' and unresponsive to any amount of coaxing.

"Guess I'm hoofin' it." He grumbled and gathered his packs from the cart. How far did that contraption bring him?

Hoping the way ahead would not be blocked, he made his way around the pile of rubble to find the rest of the way looked clear ahead at least. It was dim here where the damaged lights failed to provide much illumination. He felt odd, and his ears were kind of crackling. A weary trudge lay ahead. Bolt meandered his way forward down the strange old tracks. There was nothing else new to see. Ever quiet, it was kind of disturbing only hearing the too-dull clip-clop of his own hooves in the tunnel and nothing more than his own breathing. After a hard walk of what felt like endless miles in the dim lighting he noted there was another platform ahead. How far did this go? Did his master ever travel so far?

It seemed so, from what he was told. Dire thoughts were for now replaced with what happy memories he possessed. For what it was, he'd had what he felt was a good life. One that almost wasn't, as many were not. Thanking whatever good fortune allowed it, he moved on. This was a sad journey he'd embarked upon. It felt so long ago already that he left. Staying would have been pointless, maybe even deadly. Something was so terribly amiss back there. Help was required, if anypony anywhere yet lived to provide it, or had the strength to do so. The next platform ahead was different somehow. Painted a disconcerting red color, with twirling red lights in metal bars surrounding the terminal. This was certainly unusual.

What could it mean? He cautiously approached.

"Is this interminable and lonely wandering the price I must pay for all the good time I was given? Maybe none of us deserve it. Maybe what they did back then was so horrible that we are all marked for pain and I simply delayed my suffering? What would he say of me thinking such a thing?" He actually got teary-eyed for a moment. Brushing some aside, he took a deep breath.

"Silly. We didn't do anything wrong. He always tried to help me, and everypony else we ever ran into. Even if this is some kind of price to pay for all the happiness he gave me, it was worth it. You hear me!?" He found himself shouting in the vaguely echoing dimness. It reverberated down and throughout the halls and sounded a hollow refrain back to himself in an eerie fashion. It seemed weak in itself, like something dying a slow death. The thought disturbed him further, he shook his head vigorously.

"Who am I yelling at? I must be losing my mind. Calm down. I've been alone so long. Just need to keep going until I find somepony, anypony at all." He muttered and gathered his thoughts before taking a more thorough look around. This terminal was not locked, but only presented options he did not know the meaning of. The intriguing display only offered two options underneath a line reading 'EMERGENCY' once again. They read as:
1: Summon maintenance bot
2: Open access door

"I am here. I can either press one or both of these, or just walk on. What would he do? Then again, he would not even be here to begin with I suppose. This is my journey to have. He had his long ago, be glad he got so much out of it." Bolt admonished himself sternly and stiffly this time. Stepping up to the terminal, he summoned his courage and pressed the first option, then looked around warily. This time he refused to be taken by surprise if something banged again. At first, it appeared like nothing was happening in response, though the terminal screen blinked and flickered back to life, stating something about an incorrect Exit I.D. What did that mean? Maybe it was damaged somehow?

Knowing absolutely nothing about these things asides from their existence was not helping matters any. The platform was not constructed the same as the others, there was a thick wall at one end that seemed almost out of place, like they started and just stopped building it, along with a heavy steel railing along the side that must have been intended to keep ponies off the tracks when interacting with the terminal. Was this place ever used for anything? Why was it even here, anyway? To him this was quite odd. There must have been a reason for this weird underwater tunnel to exist, but what was it? The entrance was too well hidden to have been an accident. It was a choice, purposeful. That much could be told.

There must be some real secret to this place, he mused to himself. He'd never even heard of buildings underwater, let alone a massive tunnel that went on for who knew how long exactly. The lonely silence felt heavy upon him as he waited and thought, trying to understand what was in front of his eyes.

"Maybe I should press it again, wait." His ears twitched and pricked as he picked up on some odd trundling sound somewhere out of sight. This could be good or bad. There was no way to tell as yet. Deciding to hide himself behind the half finished wall gave some comfort. Waiting as the sound drew nearer. Something felt off about this.

Trusting his instincts on such matters, he slipped in against the wall as far as he could hide himself and waited. Fighting was something he wanted no more of for now, if it could be avoided at all. The sound grew closer and louder, the closer it got he could hear some deep humming sound accompanying it. The sound stopped close by. His heart beat faster as he tried to be as quiet as could possibly be. Daring only to just peek as barely out over the railing he almost gasped audibly before catching himself. A pony looking thing as black as pitch itself was on the tracks, a disturbing dark red glowing visor in place where eyes should be. It was rolling on wheels attached to the insides of it's legs, crouched against the tracks.

Red beams of light radiated out of what looked like two small tubes on its sides. It's head tilted and looked up and down, sweeping the creepy red beams up and down and around. Two odd square racks composed of other squares with weird circular objects adorned what would be it's shoulders. As it's head turned, he ducked down before it could see him. Did it see him? Oh no, oh no. This was dangerous. It must be. It looked deadly. It felt deadly. What was this thing? For an eternity he held still, trying to keep his breath and heaving heart from giving him away. As quickly as it appeared, the sound began moving on down the track the way he'd come from.

He dare not move until it was far gone and hopefully out of hearing range. Finally, at last it was gone. The fearsome looking thing scared him. Never having felt the depths of real, true fear before in his life, gave a long moment of pause. Not even his fear of heights recent conquered could compare to the sheer terror that just passed by.

"What was that thing!?" Whispering quietly to himself he wondered what to do now. Would it come back? If it did, what then? Something made of flesh and blood and bone, he could fight. He realized he was almost crying. That monstrous apparition was nothing alive, was it?

"Stop it!" Bolt clocked himself in the head with a hoof just painfully hard enough to rouse.

"Fear is fine, it keeps you alive and gives warning. It must never stop you." It took several moments of hard fought tension to relax and get moving again after his heart settled. Even more cautiously than before, he looked at the terminal once again. The other option still presented itself. Would touching it cause some other horror to be unleashed upon him? Already finding himself wishing he'd not come down here, he simply jabbed the button so he would not give himself time to think it over further.

A sliding, grinding sound that was entirely too noisy for his liking creaked out as a side door unnoticed before forced itself open after so many empty decades of disuse. It unfortunately echoed loudly. Hopefully it really was out of range. This odd dulling of sound might be helpful for once.

"I hope that thing did not hear that." He thought, while moving to investigate the opening. How big was this place, really? Not having looked inside the other doors from before gave him no idea of the real scale of the place. Looking in here proved it to be far more immense than realized. Walking into this place was confusing, concerning.

After passing through the sliding door it smashed shut behind him, making his body jolt, he spun around to find it closed tight. Was there a way back through it? Pushing on the door would do nothing even if he put everything into it, it was stuck fast.

"Oh, great! Wait. Wait. Stay Calm." It was all he could do to get a handle on himself, turning back around he was given over to awestruck amazement, his eyes growing accustomed to the lighting. A vista unimagined greeted his vision as he looked out through an enormous window with huge crossing steel beams which seemed to hold the entire ocean at bay.

Out in the water he could see numerous domes along the length of the tunnel, some on either side. They were lit up from the outside by lights, some of which were clearly damaged and aged. This was amazing, so curious. Like a whole city hidden underwater. What was this place? Awestruck, he could only stand there, taking in the sheer scale of this hidden wonder. Did his master know of such a thing? No, he would have told about something like this. They, built this? It was utterly inspiring. For long moments he stood agape, slack-jawed and wide-eyed before finally regaining full use of his senses. The sheer scope of this place took him by surprise.

Some of the domes outside the tunnel appeared to be destroyed or flooded in places. He was probably fortunate the door he chose to open was not to one filled with water or he would have been washed away in an instant along with any other secrets this place may yet hold. Atop the domes, something he could not quite make out in the distance appeared to be lettering which might read 'NL' but it was impossible to tell from fading. Looking to the more immediate area the realization struck that this was an entire dome of it's own. This place alone was massive. They were capable of building something this extensive?

If there were any lingering preconceptions in his mind about what was possible to achieve, they fully fell away in this moment. This was beyond incredible. An epic monument to their power, it must be. Feeling so completely and utterly dwarfed like this nearly made him pass out. Breathing hard and holding his head low as if in prayer to the past for trespassing here, he began to explore. A way out of here was still needed.

"This place is not meant for me. I am just one. A very little one. I am not after whatever is here. Let me pass in peace, please." He beseeched the world at large in a quiet, reverent tone.

Why he was saying this at all he could not guess, nothing could be listening could it? No power of goodness was about to reach out and take hold of his hoof now was it? For a little while, fighting off panic was all he could focus on. This was not where he wanted or needed to be. This place was a thing of the long dead past, and maybe best left that way. He wanted very little, maybe it would be granted.

"I just want to find some other ponies, or anyone friendly. For now, that is all I want." Speaking to calm his own nerves after that harrowing moment back there, he could but wander these strange hallways, hoping to find a way out that was not barred or broken. From what little he could see of the other domes, each layout was different internally.

Some could not be seen into, others were shattered entirely. Some of them were just clear and empty, and two others like this one held many internal hallways to various rooms of sorts. They were far away. This dome was by no means empty. Odd metal things, machines of purposes he could not even guess at and other oddities fairly filled the place.

"Oh, I should not be here. I saw what looked like a way to the north mainland and I just took it without thinking further. Stupid." Admonishing himself was getting tiresome. This may have been a terrible mistake. That thing back on the tracks image haunted him. Even the other strange creatures he fought on his way here felt alive, in some manner.

It did not have any spark of life at all. A horror he hoped not to encounter again. Did the ancient ones create that? Why would they make something so horrible? The very proximity of it had made him feel nearly ill. Shaken. Could he have died right there?

"Well, at least I saw. Teach me to be careful what I ask for, right?" He wandered through the dilapidated place and came upon the strangest room yet. A series of bubbling and beeping beakers and machines lighting up and doing strange things concerned him deeply, but none seemed menacing as the weird thing from before.

Left to some unknowable tasks, forgotten and given over to futile effort. Hopefully there was a door back into the tunnel somewhere around here, or some way to open or bypass it. The heavy steel door would be far too much to simply break through. It might be possible, but would take a ridiculous amount of time and create far too much noise in doing so. What if his only choice was to prize it open with what was available? It might bring that thing back. Better to look around for an alternative first. Some of these things might be of use, but he knew nothing about what they were or did. There could be an easy solution staring him right in the face and it would never cross his mind what or how.

Hoping to find another terminal, that was fulfilled. The hope was short lived. A slight twinge of fear echoed in his being about messing with this thing, but what else was there to do? Much like the terminal left at the old police station, this one continually asked for a password he did not know. Being stymied like this frustrated to no end. For a good while he could only stand and glare at it. Glancing around something caught his eye. A little metal tag thing hanging under the desk the terminal sat upon with a number on it.

"I don't suppose.." He absently keyed in the number.

Much to his surprise the glaring screen clattered and clacked, springing to life. It almost made him jump. Suddenly, new words appeared on the screen. The written equestrian language as he knew it was a series of straight lines in various arrangements, and other easy symbols whose origin were necessitated to write by hoof on the ground when needed. The way these keys were arranged seemed strange to him. It was not like the very few other terminals he'd seen before. They were the same, but in different places. Even the numbers were in different places. Was there something special about that? There was no way to tell. The new things read:
1. Announcement Draft
2. Mail: 3
3. Operations

Well this was new. What did any of that mean? There was little choice but to continue. Might as well try the first. Hesitantly his hoof hovered over the key, finally pressing it yielded an odd text which contained something to make the heart sink. A missive which was direct and solemn:

We will try to slip this message to as many more ponies and maybe some griffons or others we can find of similar thought shortly:

Come, Ponies! Friends!
We must all rise up, for one kingdom harmonious. Not for one kingdom lay waste, crumbling in the ashes of the other.
Just take a good, long, look around. You see it, don't you? We are all throwing our lives, ourselves away!
We are being taken by darkness in the name of the light and they know it! We cannot fall willingly into this trap.
Is this who we are? I say neigh!
Think to yourselves, is this what we came together for?
All we have strived towards, given our strength over to?

Will you be amongst those to let it go on, happily greeting the end with a whicker and soft accepting whinny?
No longer can we give blind trust to the powers that be.
We are all on a path only to destroy one another.
Rise, Rise up ponies. Friends! Fight for the truth, fight for justice! We have all been given over to a lie.
The single greatest lie ever told. A lie so great and momentous it is taken as the truth.
Stamp your hooves! Ruffle those feathers and scales! It must be now. Lady Justice has, and always will stand for truth!

We must fight back with her, or fall forever into the abyss that we have so lovingly crafted with our own hooves and talons!
The tide is high and the water rising. We must act before it is too late.
Come, Ponies! Friends! Rise! Join us now, before it's too late! Before we are all consumed by the torrent. She is with us!

Bolt could only reread it over and over. Lady Justice again? Who was she? They seemed to have great faith in her. Whoever she was. What were these ponies about to do? It must have come to naught when the great war ended in fire and death. This was all anypony truly knew of the war now, if anything at all. That it was long, and it ended in this. Was this place and the ponies that built it just more victims? This seemed to say they were trying to do something about it, maybe. Consumed they most definitely were. This was sad, and felt hurtful to read, but it was there. Was this speaking about that time? It must be. Bolt pressed the button to go back.

The same screen presented itself, in that ever-present and somewhat painful green. It took a few moments to stop thinking that message over. Who and what would it have reached? Who was it really meant for? It was altogether painful to think about. This appeared to say that ponies back then may have seen whatever their approaching doom was and tried to do something about it, but it was likely too late. What could have lead to the ponies of old allowing such a miserable fate to befall them and their great works? Only able to imagine the rest, he moved onto the next option. Would it reveal something more? That message felt entirely sad and upsetting. Maybe this would be better, or at least more useful.

Being trapped in this city unto itself beneath the water was not something to relish. A strange feeling of eyes upon him made Bolt look up and around cautiously, but it passed. Trusting his instincts, he did try to keep a low profile. The various blipping and whirring machines he could not fathom made enough noise for him to blend in, but past experience enforced itself. Never get too comfortable. His hoof pressed down the mail option. The first proved to be a long missive showing:

All staff: You know how hard it has been, so difficult to hide behind false fronts, to make excuses and lie after lie to keep it all out of sight. We have toiled long, to stay hidden, to build and gather strength. We all know the difficult working conditions down here, but we all must to do our part. We know you all want to work on the great things we are doing here, and we understand. Just remember, though; somepony still has to scrub the toilets! Somepony still has to make sure the walls do not leak, and keep us all safe until we can act. We have the tacit permission of Princess Luna herself for these projects, but she will disavow any knowledge of us or what we are doing. We must be secretive.

This suits fine, as she is using us, we are using her. You are, every one of you very important to our grand cause no matter how small your contribution as yet may seem, you would not be here if we did not believe in you. We are every one of us in this together and if we truly want to make the world a better place, then we must be practical about the necessities. Our time is coming. Rest assured; Soon we will rise, like a great leviathan of the deep. All your hard work, patience and perseverance will pay off!

"A what? Leviathan? What's that? I guess, their apparently vast patience went unrewarded after all. Lies? Princess Luna? Was that their leader or something?" He wondered about all that and sighed sadly.

All of these were rather puzzling statements to Bolt. Leviathan was not a word he knew the meaning of. All he really cared for at this moment was finding a way to the mainland, and help for the afflicted city. There must be a way. He pressed the second mail option which was of an entirely different tone, reading:

This is your third administrative warning, Pen. You have been speaking up about project "C.U.D.D.L.E" in rather dire terms. I know the containment area seems a little unsafe, but we have guards and the safeties are effective. After all, we haven't had a single incident in over sixty days! He only lost a small patch of his coat.

That didn't sound too good. What kind of weird things were the old ponies doing back then? He shook his head, Bolt then pressed the final option which presented a screen full of other options:

--EMERGENCY--

1: (4661696c757265)

2: Systems Integrity Check

3: Call Assistance

"Just numbers? What does all of this mean!?" Bolt shook his head. It was far more frustrating understanding these things than he ever imagined before. The ever present line across the top seemed odd to him. Sitting on his haunches and leaning back a bit, he closed his eyes tightly. Taking a deep breath, he decided to simply get on with it. Punching in number 1 merely brought up a strange screen full of unreadable gibberish which then returned to the same options. How odd. Pressing number 2 yielded a weird series of numbers and text, only some of which was readable in places. What few things he could vaguely understand read as:

0001: Security Station Damaged. Header control malfunction. Urgent maintenance required.

0002: Dome 1: Exert text fail. Dome 3: Flooding detected. Dome 4: Fa̱̰ͅi̝͈͓̹l̹̀u͍r̛͔͍̬͈e̗̺̘͔͖

0003: Operations Terminal: Fail state. Terminal 2: Fail State. Terminal 8: Fail State. Exit Terminal 2: Override required.

0004: Hardware Adjunct Failures Detected

"Huh? Useless." That text gave him a weird feeling. Backing up once again, only one option remained. The third option was all which remained. Warily, he pushed the button down. This action seemed to be too much for the old terminal as it seemed to tremble and fizzle. Bolt found himself backing away quickly at this new oddity while it continued to crackle and fritz, which was getting worse by the second, reflexively he knocked a nearby metal table on its side and dove behind it just as the ancient machine exploded, sending parts showering everywhere.

"Oh frig, what just happened? Did I do that? I didn't know that could happen!" Bolt huffed and stood.

After dusting himself off it immediately dawned on him that was a terribly loud noise. How far did such a sound travel with the tunnel doors closed? Was there anything else bad around which might have noticed it and be heading straight for him now? This turned out to be useless after all, better move on. There was such a mess around here now.

"I feel tired again already. This is just too much." He complained and wandered into other rooms cautiously. Each held several marvelous looking machines and apparatus the nature of which he might never come to know or understand. None of which were helping him at this moment. What would he do?

Something about this place just felt off in some manner all around, but this feeling was hardly something new by now.

"I am getting far too used to weird stuff. Keep your head, this place is really dangerous and I must keep my guard up." Advice to himself was becoming a little too common. At least two hours passed by now since he became trapped in here. The next room he stumbled across by sheer accident, on leaning up against a wall to rest for a moment he noticed a button recessed into the wall, perfectly hoof-shaped. How odd. Well, it was new. Pressing it in then made it click and him back up defensively as a hissing sound accompanied a section of the wall sliding open. Definitely new.

There must be secrets inside secrets in this place. He concluded it was not really part of the wall, but merely something he did not recognize as a door which opened. This made him feel a bit silly. Were there other doors he overlooked because of this? Quite probably.

"Oh, I am so stupid! These things are doors. I could have passed fifty of them and never known. Darn it. I need to be more careful. Come on, Bolt. Get it together. Think." He took a very deep breath. This entrance lead into a small room only containing some various mostly useless things. A short heavy looking solid steel pole of some kind lay there amidst it all.

He might be able to pry the tunnel door open with it. Possibly some good luck. He strapped it over his back by tucking the pole under and through the pack straps on the undamaged side. He did not know it, but this made him look very much like he was about to go jousting. Deciding it may not be safe to return the same way, immediately the choice was to continue exploring and see if a way back around to the tunnel was present. This place held up well over the years. It was by no means clean, and the air did not exactly feel good to breathe, but it was tolerable. This place was so huge. How did they do all this? Exploring this great wonder raised his spirits a little.

This sort of thing was really part of ponies inheritance wasn't it? His own distant ancestors must have built such things as well, did that not mean they owned this place now and should be comfortable here? These thoughts passed through his head as he wandered the cracked and rusting structure. How did this place even still stand after so long? They must have possessed so much knowledge, and yet they were brought to ruin. Bolt let these thoughts run by as he examined several more doors with hoof-shaped buttons, opening each cautiously revealed little of actual use to him. More strange machines and flickering lights whose meaning or use was completely lost on him.

Even those things with labels on them made little sense to him. A small panel screen stating 'Air Circulation: 32.4%" in one room was attached in front of several large and dangerous spinning blades which seemed to be sucking or pushing air around. Some of them were unmoving or grinding and sparking. One constantly just slightly moved left to right. He would not dare walk past the enormous quivering blades, if it ever moved further while doing so he would be cut in half instantly. Another panel in a room beside it displayed 'Air quality: Dangerously Low' This did not sound good at all, but he did not know how or if that truly affected him or what it meant in actuality. Everything about this just seemed dangerous.

The reality of the amount of water outside and above him suddenly overwhelmed him for a moment, finding himself panting heavily. It did feel strangely warm in this place. Trying to push that idea from his mind, Bolt continued his exploration. There was little point worrying about it now. This place was so far underwater it would never be seen. If he died here, no one would ever likely find him. Stumbling upon this place by accident may still prove to be a boon, or his end. Leaving the room, he made up his mind.

"It's alright. Having seen so many wonders, great and terrible.. If I should die now, It is well enough." He stated factually. This corridor lead towards a strange heavy door that gave him a jolt when it hissed and opened of its own accord as he approached.

"Get a grip, relax. Ponies built this place. I belong here. I..belong here." Just stated to calm his fraying nerves. Behind the massive door lay a scene beyond simple comprehension. Cylinders and jars on racks, some bubbling, lined the walls as overhead lights flickered to life. Inside were skulls and icky looking things of every possible shape.

A sick feeling overtook him at this sight. Why would the old ones have such a place? A gross menagerie of once living things laid out as if in sick memorandum. Whatever went on here in ages past did not feel right, if anything ever truly did. Nothing looked quite right. Somehow tortured grins forever static and lifeless, staring eternally upon the others. A sort of false life was given some as they bobbed to and fro in their enclosures, some long since emptied through the passage of time. An eerie feeling overtook Bolt here.

"What did the ancient ponies need with this? I do not understand. There is no good here. I have to get out of this place." His mind felt ill at ease having seen so many strange things, a new and odd ill feeling to add to all the others.

"I feel like my lungs are burning a bit. This air tastes a bit foul, and I feel slightly dizzy. I need a way out of here, soon." This place was so immense. Wandering through this dome alone could take days, time which he may not have to spare. Passing through a similar door at the opposite end, one which raised up instead of sliding, it hissed and resealed itself behind him with a thud.

"Curse this endless wandering. Did I truly do something to deserve this loneliness? How long have I even been away from..home?" A few tears welled that he could not hold back. It already settled in that what he knew as home was just an empty shell now. There was nothing for him there, save memories. It may not even still stand. For all he knew the entirety of what was left of the old ones city could lay a smoldering ruin by now. Was that possible? Could even the ruins all be gone?

"Stop it, Bolt. Focus and keep moving. There must be somepony, somewhere. Find them." As was usual since he left, his hooves did not seem to make the same sound they should. Weaker somehow. Like they lacked weight or the ability to make sound carry very far. It was all so strange. Something was truly amiss here, and everywhere. Even knowing little of the mechanisms behind how sound works, or a great many things really, it still felt wrong. Feeling stalked and betrayed by the very world around him was a feeling so foreign and disconcerting it made it difficult to even put one hoof in front of the other. Some force of wicked will was surely behind all of this, but what and why?

It served no purpose to hunt him down, surely? Yet hunted he felt at all times. Could death itself really be playing a mad game with him? Why bother?

"Enough wild imaginings, death couldn't possibly care very much about one little pony like me, now could it?" He found the thought a bit amusing. No, death would get little amusement toying with somepony so unimportant as him. He was just another pony amongst the remaining few clinging to life in a desolate ruin. The very idea was absurd and laughable. The concept itself was rather silly, wasn't it? Death was not a tangible thing, just something that happened.

Another long hallway. This place was immeasurably large. How big was the entire place in totality? Hours on end must have passed already. Bolt found a safe seeming nook out of sight and dared take a nap. He learned this lesson well enough, never chance being seen except on your own terms. Wearing himself out yet again and in this situation was probably not a good idea. The longer he remained here in the depths was likely bad, but there was no choice. There must be something actually useful somewhere around here, if he did not in his ignorance of the old ones things overlook it again and again already. He was determined to find his way out of here. There were ponies to find, somewhere. He felt sure of this.

They could not all have fallen. Some were unicorns, with magic and other abilities he did not possess or pretend to understand. The few unicorns he ever met did not seem possessed of particular strength either. Just a little strength of another kind. No, they could not all be dead, surely. Having been taken unaware more than once left him very conscious of how easy it was to be surprised. He did not want to wind up feeling like a foal yet another time. They were mistakes he'd been taught to avoid and should stop making them. Especially in the here and now. Things were different than back then. That was training. His mind drifted to the exercises his master set out for him.

How to move silently, how to blend in with the shadows. Practically become them. Keep the mind sharp and outthink opponents. He knew these things so well and failed miserably to follow them thus far. Why did he keep letting that happen so far? It was almost shameful. Pitiable even. A few more mistakes like that and he really would die. Some guidance would be great now, but there was none to be had. He was on his own, as he'd been for so long already. He did not remove the packs this time. Just a little rest. Just a little. This was alright at first. Relaxing was difficult of course, but he must do so. Eventually he slipped into a soft slumber for a while.

Unfortunately another dream intruded upon his rest, of swirling despair and enduring darkness snuffing out all things, everything. A terrible, miserable dream of suffering and tangible darkness throwing all the might of itself towards him. A living wall of agonizing torment to cage him in a prison of freezing pain. An image of some creeping pony made of the dark drawing closer, nearer. It hunted him throughout, the faster he ran, the closer it got. Nipping at his haunches as untold terror swelled, forcing itself upon his psyche. This was not him. He could not feel this way, it was wrong. There was no misery like this. It could not possibly exist. Sadness and wailing overtaking his dream left him shuddering.

Nothing could feel this bad! Bolt jolted awake. He knew what was coming. He'd come to know a dream which felt like that, if that was what they truly were, meant only one thing. Something was nearing, he just knew it, practically feeling it. Was it something horrible once more? Where? What would it be this time. He stood and twitched his ears, listening, trying to feel, sense or hear what it could possibly be. Unlike before this did not seem to have quite the same tingling terrible feeling of apprehension somehow. Yet, maybe this was untrustable either. Something was definitely about to happen. This tingling sense of distrust was almost palpable. What was there to distrust?

So far, these horrible dreams gave real warning of things, though this certainly felt somewhat different for whatever reason. It simply did not feel vile like the rest thus far. Then, it happened. Standing there like a statue, suddenly it was there.

"The voice won't take me!" A startlingly powerful female voice from down the hallway behind him made Bolt spin right around on his hind hooves to land and face them. A tall horned figure stood there with a flowing mane and tail the likes of which he never imagined before. He'd assumed nothing living was in this underwater city, or perhaps anywhere anymore. Wait, wings? She sported wings as well. He never expected to actually see an alicorn.

His master told him to never approach them for any reason. This could be quite bad. She looked emaciated, perhaps injured in some way he could not quite tell. Hovering beside her was a nasty looking thing with many barrels he just recognized as a gun of some kind. Not good.

"Wh..who are you? Please, I need help!" He stammered at this surprise. Instead of a response the weapons barrels started spinning. Uh-oh. This was probably going to be quite troublesome. It instantly got worse. Her horn glowed black.

"I won't do it, die!" At this before she even finished speaking, Bolt jumped across the hallway as a ridiculous stream of fire began bouncing off everything. This was terrible.

If she kept that up for long this entire ancient underwater facility could come crashing down on their heads, to say nothing of the entire ocean just waiting to get in. Yelling for her to stop would do no good right now, she would not be able to hear it over the noise and she did not seem inclined to reason. This was insane. Why was she shooting? He didn't even do anything. How could he get her to stop firing? Bullets were whizzing everywhere and he was just managing to hide behind the heavy steel doors and equipment all over the place as she slowly stepped forward, making him race from spot to spot. At this rate it was inevitable he was going to get hit. Death was upon him, why did it have to be like this? Did he come all this way just to die now? It went eerily silent. What?

He dared peek slightly around a large steel crate or something he'd slipped behind. She was gone. What in the world?
Vanished without a trace. Fortunately they were within an inner hallway or that outburst of insanity could have easily drowned both of them. Was she completely out of her mind? Could she have been down here for.. That would be an awfully long time to be alone, impossible. Bolt cautiously began moving again. There was no point dwelling on it. Now the air in here felt oppressive as well as sickly. Maybe the strange alicorn could be reasoned with, if she would allow the chance to speak. It would be best to avoid her if possible.

If she just wanted to be left alone, why attack or announce her presence at all? He'd no idea anypony was down here until this moment. This gave pause, were there more? Like her? Crazy? Where did she go? It was far more unsafe here than could have been accounted for. At least she was a living thing, flesh and blood. He supposed it would be far better to be killed by that than some complete unknown. It certainly would have been quick. Wait. This meant there were other living things still around. That feeling was good. Thank whatever might be listening, or not. Probably nothing is anyway.

"Well, that was close. That was so stupid! Come on, Bolt. You didn't even hear her, pick up on her scent, anything. It was all there, you dope, and you didn't notice even though you knew it was coming." He took a very deep breath. It was not something he should have overlooked. Too distracted by everything around him, he'd forgot the most important lesson of all. Except without choice, never assume anything as a given. He'd assumed nopony else could possibly be down here. That was a mistake that could easily have cost his life already. He felt dumb, living ponies were exactly what he was looking for. Time to get moving.

"Wasting time, half a city still needs my help, or anybodies help. If it can be given, I have to find someone. There is at least one other pony alive, even if she is crazed. That could mean others." Speaking encouragingly to himself helped, as did finally knowing he was not the only living pony left in all the land. It was a very good feeling. There was nothing he could do back in the city himself. The towering black walls of fire were an unknown to him in any fashion. Was it magic? His master never mentioned anything like that. No unicorn he ever saw could come near to creating something so immense. Not to mention that terrible feeling of sheer wrong which its mere presence elicited. The flames should not exist.

It was not just them, the existence of other oddities encountered on his way to this point and what they heralded were just as unknowable. Was this truly some sort of hell given over just for him to wander in and experience? Death itself did seem near and nipping at his haunches on every possible occasion. Could this be some kind of perverse game he'd been pulled into, to amuse whatever twisted things may exist beyond his comprehension and understanding? Bolt shook his head as he walked, paying far more attention to his surroundings now. Being caught so unaware was shameful, it would not happen again. He'd been taken in by the grandeur of this place, whatever it really was or for.

The terminal messages seemed to to him to mean it was of some great importance to somepony once. Was it simply forgotten? Abandoned? Could even a work this great in scale really have simply been left to rot under the ocean? If the ancient ponies could let this grand a thing simply fall to the wayside, did he stand any chance whatsoever? Perhaps the alicorn knew what this place truly was. He might never know.

"What am I really to do now?" Bolt thought to himself. How far could he really go? Survive for how long, and if he did?

"If I get out of here, get help. Do all that and..kill Boss. Do all of that, then what will I do? I have no one else. I barely know anyone. I guess no one really does, but still. I cannot wander alone, forever, can I?" Once more finding himself on the verge of tears. This was not good. Nothing was good at all. This was all so wrong. So alien. Yet, this was built by ponies. It clearly was. From the terminals to the way things were organized, clearly ponies built it all. Simply knowing other creatures existed did nothing to change what a fearful thing actually running into them could be. This entire journey he'd been fighting what felt like fear given form, consigned to battle his way out of the city, and fight an unceasing dread in the bottom of his gut that refused to ever fully go away no matter how hard it was pushed down. The quiet was unnerving.

Ever since that horrible first day, it seemed like sound just fell dead, not going quite as far as it should. Imperceptibly it almost seemed to be worse now. A shorter distance. That didn't make any real sense, but did any of this? This place should hold his rapt attention, it was awe-inspiring, amazing. Yet, fear was the one thing that remained wholly present. It must be resisted. At all costs. It must.

"Is there something wrong with me? Maybe. Just keep putting one hoof in front of the other, and move." Bolt peeked around a corner. As before, another lonely ancient hallway slowly falling to dirt and grime.

This hidden jewel beneath what were once waves now fallen as flat and still as the rest of the world felt so lonely. Like life itself abandoned these unique corridors. This was taking hours upon hours just to find a way back out to the tracks. Some sort of hideous deathly thing roamed them, but seemed the only way to go. Fighting that thing was certain death, no doubt. The very thought of trying made him shiver all over. A loud clang behind made him look back quickly. What looked like a small tin was rolling out from another side hallway. What now? Ready to leap out of the way at the slightest hint of aggression, he strode to look around the corner. It was just another corridor, but lined with shelves.

Supplies of varying nature. Some things he recognized, like a picture of those strange ration packs that appeared almost everywhere. Did every single pony used to have them? Why did the can fall and roll? This was strange. Perhaps some actual luck was coming his way? Better not trust that idea. Skill, forbearance and determination were all that carried him to this strange facility. Death itself might really be stalking for all he knew. A powerful and dangerous pony roamed this place, why was she here? Could it be her home? That would be strange, wouldn't it? The dim feelings of being confined and slowly suffocating down here were quite unpleasant and wearing. It already felt an eternity since breathing in fresh air.

Well, not exactly fresh. His thoughts deemed it simply more tolerable up on the surface, not pleasant by any means, but almost anything was better than this. There were other things on the shelves he did not recognize. There was so much unknown to him that it was a bit shameful feeling. There was just so much stuff here he did not understand. The ponies from long ago would know what all this stuff was, right? Clank.

"Oh, no." Bolt muttered at the sound as he immediately jumped out across the hallway to land in the opposite entryway. There was that awful ticking stuttering sound as bullets went flying and spraying past once again.

The packs were slowing him down, but abandoning them was not a choice. They contained his sole chance at continued survival should he manage to live long enough to escape this demented place. It could be heard getting closer, Bolt ran down the hallway he'd been forced into as fast as was possible carrying such a load. Some stray flicking shots bounced past his head on the right just as he turned a corner. Too close once again. Why was she doing this? It was quite possible to bring down the entire place with that much firepower. She must be truly out of her mind. It ceased once more. What was going on here? So deathly silent again.

On a whim he chucked a piece of metal that happened to be laying against the opposite wall out into the open. Nothing. Nothing at all. Leaning around the corner there was nothing to be seen. This made little to no sense. If the mare just wanted to be left alone, his only intention was to leave. There was no understanding this. Deciding to take the shiny bit of metal with him he took to chucking it into any open spaces before entering them. Again he appeared to be alone, but that was clearly not the case. There was a sign on the wall stating something like 'Gantry' and an arrow pointing down one way while some kind of symbol that looked like little more than a squiggly line and an arrow pointed another way.

What was a gantry? So much to be understood about this place. Following the gantry arrow lead to a strange room with an open pool of water that somehow did not let the entire ocean in from below. A huge tall cylindrical object to which an overhead bridge extended to the top, accessible by steel stairs was also within. Something about this thing felt wrong, it practically pulsed with a sickly power he could actually feel as he neared.

"What am I sensing? What is this? No, no I want nothing to do with this thing. It feels wrong. Just leave it be." It practically made his teeth chatter being near to this..thing. It must be an ancient weapon or something, what else could possibly feel this horrible? Was this one of those things that left the world like it was now? If so, it was surprising anypony yet lived at all. On the side was a mark stating 'EXP:Plague Missile B: 0-0-3' Plague? The word sounded chilling somehow. It was appropriate to this feeling in the area. Whatever a missile was, there were two other open spots where more of these might once have been housed. Bolt moved past it as quickly as possible and out of the affected region around it and huffed.

"I have never felt anything so vile as that right there. What were you doing down here, old ponies? Would I even want to know? Nothing is quite right down here. The more I find the less I want to know." Complaining to himself was small comfort. This was all too big for him, too large to comprehend. They were possessed of so much knowledge, why did they let the world become like this? Were they totally unable to utilize the knowledge they held for good purposes? Was it possible to actually know too much and become unable to control what it would bring with it? This was not a thought that ever crossed his mind before.

"No, there must have been good ponies too. There must have been. No one could possibly have truly actually wanted something so horrible feeling, could they? Just being near it felt disgusting right down to my very being." At least the feeling passed. His wandering felt interminable, endless. Would he ever find a way out of here? Was he taken in by what might be turning out to be a clever trap for the unwary and curious? Perhaps. That fleeting thought ended rapidly. Trying to move stealthily did not entirely appear to be working in this instance. This situation was tremendously dangerous. No matter how quiet, the strange mare somehow kept locating him. Practically able to sense it coming by now.

This time she nearly cornered him in an intersecting hallway which culminated in being forced down a path which looked all too familiar. Did she chase him around in a complete circle somehow? It was so easy to become disoriented down here with few distinguishing features. Being harassed into rushing headlong at random was not conducive to mapping out the place or determining which direction to go. One room he felt no desire to revisit under any circumstances and he was heading straight for it again. Just ever so barely diving for cover around a corner from that tick-tick-ticking menace. She must want to die or something, surely? This place must be about to come tumbling down atop both of them.

It fell silent, again. Why bother him at all?

"Oh come on, lady! I don't even know who you are or care, drown yourself if you want but leave me out of it!" Bolt yelled as bullets ceased flying past. His voice echoed down the long empty hall. A fleeting realization struck him as he said this. This menacing alicorn could easily have stopped and held him from running at any time couldn't she? Why hadn't she done that and just killed him already? She was herding him. Forcing him down a specific path, but why go so far to do that? For that matter if they were at all like he'd been told she could just drag him to wherever she wanted him to go whenever she wanted.

This was also exhausting, hauling his packs, running, diving for safety was beyond wearing. There may be no choice except to confront her directly, but he would have to take the mare by surprise to stand any chance at all. It would also require ditching the packs which he might never be able to find again. No, even if he could somehow get close, without a single deciding blow she would have him at her complete mercy, if she didn't already.

"I've never felt so powerless in all my life. What do you want from me!? All I want to do is help ponies!" Being quiet wasn't working anyway, so why not? At each opportunity she always came so close to ending his life, might as well give some kind of retort whenever it happened.

This time he wound up finding himself backing into a side room to avoid the constant streams of destruction she unleashed with that terrible weapon. Always at a distance, never close enough to fully see properly, and always when he thought he'd given her the slip. This strange game of cat and mouse continued for five hours. Bolt would slip away from danger and return to searching only to be assaulted again and again. Was her ammunition endless as well? It never ran dry, or was that why the pauses? Perhaps she was going to get more ammunition from somewhere. Nearing total exhaustion, Bolt was about to drop. Willpower alone cannot carry anyone forever.

He must rest soon or be finished by simply running out of strength. Hoping against hope he'd finally given the maniacal mare the slip, he settled on the floor of a tiny room, behind a small rack of what might have been a stacked bed once. It was unrecognizable as such now. So tired he could not even remove the packs, against all odds he was allowed sleep. He awoke many hours later with a jolt and banged his head.

"Ow! oops." Shushing himself he looked to see he'd clocked himself off one of the bars of the beds or whatever they used to be he was hiding behind. That hurt. At least he was well-rested now. This was ridiculous. He just wanted to get help.

Groggily, Bolt rose to his hooves. This proved to be a mistake as one of the packs caught on the edge of a bar, causing him to stumble into a shelf which knocked over a metal box looking device that clacked to life. It practically bellowed.

"Heavenly shades of Luna's night are falling.." Bolt smashed it with his forehooves repeatedly until it fell silent. What was that thing? Oh, now his heart was racing. That noise might have echoed throughout the whole place. Wonderful.

"That's just great!" He chided himself while hurriedly unhooking the pack from the bar and dared glance out down the corridor in both directions. Nothing there, but better not risk it. Moving was essential now.

What insanity might be encountered while moving about this time? Rushing was always bad, he knew this was a given. Without time to think, plan, or even consider the vaguest plan of action was putting him in ludicrously dire straights. Was she nearing even now, ready to dispense death? The answer did not take long to come raining down upon him. Already? That short tick-tick-tick of the barrels spinning up sent him crashing over a desk destroying who knows what and around a corner to barely miss dying yet again.

"Stop it! You are crazy, just stop it! Cut it out ya dumb filly!" Screaming at her from afar did little, but it did feel somehow better to do. Yet, this time it did do something. Something clicked in a weird way different from before.

What now? He went to move and the weapon spun up once more. What? The bullets started up once more, but were cutting straight through the wall and just missed his head. These bullets were different. Bolt backpedaled in the opposite direction as they seemed to sear and cut through everything leaving tiny explosions in their wake. If they'd been near the outer walls of this sunken ruin of the old world it would absolutely have killed them both already. He was running out of places to duck or hide. Any instant he was going to die, this was the end of the road. There was no escaping this. It was clear this was his fate. Tears welled, but once more it went eerily silent. This made no sense.

This time though, there was a loud thunk as something hit the floor in the distance. Huh? Still alive somehow, but why? Of all the things that could have been expected at this moment, what came next was beyond ludicrous. He heard the alicorn speaking.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I didn't mean to." The formerly powerful voice sounded weak, small. Almost mewling, and crying? Daddy? What in all the world could possibly be happening here? He dared peek out amongst the wreckage and carnage of shattered equipment, piles of bullet casings littering the whole place as some thing fell and sparked, smoke from the fallen rubble hung thick in the air making him cough. There she stood, her weapon laying on the floor, empty.

She really was crying. This looked and felt horribly incorrect. He'd understood alicorns to be regal, powerful, and most of all dangerous, but what was this? She looked the part. Beautiful, magical, mysterious. But, this was wrong. She just stood there bawling like a child. No more menacing than a rotted rag doll. She was muttering to herself almost incoherently. Seeing her like this felt dangerous no longer, and more like something palpably pitiable. He could tell, she would not harm him again. The entire feeling of her presence changed from deathly to little of consequence. What happened here? Bolt slowly stepped out.

"Miss?" His voice shook. This pony could crush his comparably feeble frame in an instant, but she looked so hopeless and lost now. Standing there sobbing incessantly like the entire world turned against her, unmoving asides her flowing mane and tail. That was unique. This incredibly powerful pony was so utterly pathetic in this moment he could hardly stand to look. He gulped and walked closer. This was not frightening at all now, more disturbing. She looked, frightened?

"Miss? Please, I don't want to fight. I came down here looking for a way to get to the mainland and that's all, I swear. I won't hurt you." This sounded so silly to him to say, he thought to himself. Hurt her?

She could break him in half if she so chose and there was little to nothing he could do to prevent it, but the fight was definitely gone out of her. The sheer fire and intensity in her eyes was utterly gone, replaced with some unknowable misery as waterfalls of tears spilled as if held in check for centuries and suddenly unleashed from behind whatever damn held them. As he neared she lifted a hoof, making him nearly flinch and recoil a little, this action actually seemed to make her crying even worse. It was regretful, after which he trotted right up to her where she promptly gave an odd hug, pulling him close and simply shivered, crying into his shoulder. This was, strange. There was really no menace here.

Just a mare who was hurt very badly somehow, but what?

"W..what's wrong, miss?" Bolt found himself asking and just letting her hug and shiver against him. Through shivering and sobbing she was saying things he could hardly catch like a stream of hurt flowing forth.

"I just wanted to play with somepony!" She gushed. Wait, what did she just say? He could not have heard that right, could he? Bolt did not know what to do or to say. He'd never comforted anypony before, and certainly nothing like this. He and his master supported each other, but that was the extent of what he knew of this kind of thing.

What could possibly be going on with this alicorn? This should be amazing, but she was so disheveled and miserable as she stood there towering above him. What did he chance upon down here in this practically other world? There was no sense above, and none below the water either apparently. She truly appeared emaciated up close. She did not look unhealthy, but not right either. He just returned the hugging as best he could. She was simply too large for him to do more, and he must not upset her again. That was a given.

"Can I, do something for you, miss?" He asked curiously. Through intermittent sobbing she replied.

"I'm not a miss, I'm a little girl!" She shuddered heavily. Bolt blinked several times. What? Was she just mad or something? What could he possibly say to that? What should he say? She babbled.

"When the bad things happened, daddy he..he told me to stay here and he would get help.. but..but..I haven't seen him in so long.. so so long.. where did daaaddy gooo?.." The alicorn trailed off into incomprehensible caterwauling. He'd never met a truly young pony before, but the worst part about this was she really did sound like a little filly in her mannerisms, how she held herself, how she spoke. It all screamed, child, to him. What should he do? She was talking about bad things?

"I got so lonely.. I tried to follow daddy, but...but when I got near someplace called...called outside I think.. a horrible voice tried to get in my head and make me do awful things, but i made it go away." The mare trembled. She did what?

"I can't find daddy.. I can't go to outside or the awful voice will get me! Can..can you find daddy for me? Please..please please pleaaase?" The alicorn started bawling some more. This was sounding worse and worse. What was this?

"What's your name?" Bolt decided to inquire cautiously. Upsetting her could literally be deadly. She spoke with some kind of accent to her speech he would find almost cute if that were possible under the circumstances.

"I'm Flourisher, but the..the...bad ponies in the white coats always called me Nocte Terrores. I don't know why. What's..what's your name?" She nuzzled against him so sadly it was difficult to bear. Bad ponies in coats? What did he trot into down here? The way she asked his name sounded so shy and reserved. This was almost silly.

"I'm Bolt. Pleased to meet you. Can you tell me how old you are?" Such mundane questions seemed to extraordinarily odd to be asking right now, but what else was there to do? It was at least good to hear another not unfriendly voice.

"I am..seven, seven years old." She stated very matter of fact and seemed proud to say it. This made little sense.

That was utterly impossible. She was a full grown mare, she really seemed to believe this though. Something truly disturbing was running through Bolts head as he held her gently and considered the things she was saying. No, it couldn't be. It should not be. It was wrong. Terribly wrong. It was so beyond wrong his mind could hardly grasp the implication of what it meant. She sounded so lost, so forlorn and hopeless like all the weight of the whole world really pressed down upon her. Soon, he would have to ask. Quite possibly the fastest earth pony to ever live, just held her gently and close. In some way, it felt good. In every other way, this was wrong inherently.

Something sickly and amiss happened here the likes of which he was not prone to understanding easily. A great ill feeling washed over Bolt as he pondered the strange mare in front of his eyes. Her mane and tail ethereally wispy, but touchable. Like a piece of the world itself given over to solid form, but somehow sickly, not quite right. Some great and terrible tragedy of a scope far beyond his ken occurred down here, long before he lived and still went on. It could be seen and felt now. This place was as rotten in feeling as anywhere he'd ever been. For as little as that might mean, there was a chill and depressed feeling about this whole ordeal beyond anything reasoned or understandable.

What strange circumstance lead this mare to be here all alone? The possibilities running through his mind all felt like they would fall short of whatever was really going on here.

"Can you tell me exactly what happened when they left? Is anypony else down here other than you?" Bolt gently brushed at her, being all he could really think to do. She seemed to enjoy it immensely. He knew the sadness and misery of being entirely alone for what was in reality only a fairly short time now, it hurt. This pony he found himself holding was all alone for what must have been a vastly longer period. How long could she really have been down here, all by herself?

"There was so much noise. Horrible noise. They were y-yelling. Everypony ran, but daddy stayed with me for a long time. Just us. We had fun. Something..something big cracked one day, and he said he would go get help. I haven't seen anyone else since. No one. I was so lonely! I thought you were one of the bad ponies, I'm sorry miiister!" Flourisher bawled some more.

"Listen, listen Flourisher. Shh.. It's okay. Now, this is important, alright?" Bolt tried his best to calm her down. She was shaking and crying so much it was hard for him to even look at her face. She nodded in between bouts of sobbing.

"Did your father tell you anything else before he left, or leave anything? Anything at all? Also, could we maybe move into a room with some more light?" Her mane and tail almost seemed to cast some of their own, and he was really only asking to keep her talking, but perhaps she could point him to something useful or be of some assistance. She was, after all, an alicorn. A sort of being he never expected to encounter in all his days. They walked into a more brightly lit area. It was still dim, but better than darkness. The mysterious mare brought the weapon she'd been levitating along as an afterthought. Hefting a ridiculously powerful weapon like that was nothing to her at all.

Why did she have so much firepower anyway? It did make him think on his own mortality once more. Only sheer luck prevented his demise this time. A single stray bullet from those barrages would have been enough to end this unfortunate adventure he'd been forced to set out on. It became clear she was not entirely serious about killing him earlier, but even so, he could easily have been dead by now. This stressing situation only ever seemed to get worse, and this moment really seemed no better. Why was all this happening? It might never be told. In proper lighting he could see she was truly gorgeous, but clearly on the edge of starvation.

"He taught me how to use the commissary machine? for food, i think it broke..and...a..contupor?" She said almost absently. A Commissary, and a contupor, what were either of those things? Neither of those words meant anything to him.

"Can you show me these things, Flourisher?" Might as well see what she was talking about. She smiled and lead him down more hallways and corridors and into what was a rather cozy seeming place amidst all the steel and glass in this enormous dome. Thinking they must be almost in the direct center of this one, it made some kind of sense to him.

They both passed under another of the truly hefty steel doors he did not initially recognize as such, beneath a sign stating 'Commissary' There were long benches and tables which could have seated at least thirty or more ponies and something he knew was once called a kitchen, but little else about. There was not much he knew about the strange machines that always seemed present in such places, with tags on them like 'blender' and 'ice machine' amongst a host of other things he did not recognize. There were two things he did, a machine labeled 'Sparkle Cola' sat in an opposite corner of the large room and a terminal. Both could be of some interest.

Some strange air of sadness almost felt to have settled in here, as if the room itself wanted to be used for whatever purpose it was once intended. One of the seats seats was clearly very worn, she sat upon it.

"This was my favorite spot when.." Tears just kept flowing. Bolt looked at her curiously.

"Daddy brought me here for hay fries! They were so yummy." Flourisher seemed happy for an instant, the first time since she'd stopped shooting at him. Hay fries, another thing he did not know what it was. This felt embarrassing. Bolt proceeded to look over the terminal.

It stated several odd things, but at a guess it could be thought it wanted something to be done. A line reading "Water only. Maintenance required: Adjunct Disconnected at C-1." Flickered. He'd seen the word adjunct before as well.

"It used to let me get stuff to eat! Dummy thing only gives me water now!" Flourisher explained how it worked.

"Those things on the wall would open and stuff would come out for me. I miss the yummies it would give me." She frowned forlornly. This sort of made his heart drop. He'd brought along a decent amount of scavenged supplies, but food was always scarce. Maybe he could help, somehow. He could just fill up on water and leave, but it felt wrong to think this.

"Do you know anything about what I would have to do to fix this, or what C-1 is?" Couldn't hurt to ask anyway.

"I don't know, but this is floor A-1. C-1 is way down there." She pointed a hoof down at a strange hatch towards the back that was so much a part of the room that he overlooked it initially. It was clamped shut, marked by engraving in the metal stating 'Maintenance Shafts, technicians only'. Whatever any of that meant. She playfully rocked on the seat. Weird.

"I don't go down there anymore. I used to sneak in, no one seemed to like that. Now there..there are, things, down there. Crawly things." The strange mare shivered a little. Crawly things? That didn't sound too good.

"They're creepy and make ticky noises!" She exclaimed. Ticky noises? Maybe this was a bad idea, but for some reason he really found himself wanting to help this poor mare. She almost seemed helpless, as weird as that thought was.

"I am going to try and make this thing work if I can, but I guess that means going down into that place. Can you tell me anything else about it?" Bolt tried to work up some courage to get moving. This could be a dangerous course of action, but the thought settled in that at least he might be doing something good for somepony. That was maybe a little uncertain.

"When I first got here, there was this horrible humming black thing that felt bad to be near. I think I barely got away from it. Do you know what that was, and if are there any more of them around here?" Bolt asked the unusual mare. She nodded almost playfully. This really made it feel even more like she was a little girl. How could this be?

"Daddy said he's..is...secuwwity...wobot? Said he would protect me, but he couldn't stop the voice." That sounded kind of cute. Sec what? That didn't help very much. What was this voice she kept talking about? It didn't matter right now.

"Alright, I think to fix this thing for you I have to go down there to C-1. I don't know if I can do it, but I will try. Also I hate to say it, but you are clearly starving to death. If..if I don't come back, you will have to leave this place, no matter what. So, if I am gone more than a few hours I want you to take my packs. They have water bottles you can fill, and a little bit of food in them. You will have to, okay?" He told her in all seriousness. If there were things down there she did not want to go near, this could be very bad. This started her tears rolling again. There were really only two choices here. Stay and fix it, or try to escape with her.

"I can't, the voice will get me! I don't want to be alone again! Don't go. Don't go!" Flourisher looked so incredibly miserable it shook him to his core. Bolt walked over to her and looked straight in their eyes, speaking quietly.

"I don't really know what's going on here, or what happened or anything. What I do know is, that you are dying. You're dying, I can see it now. I need to try and fix this, or we need to leave this place together. There is nothing else we can do, understand?" He looked to her for acknowledgement. After a few trembling moments she just slowly nodded her head.

Flourisher got up, walked over to the strange cover and pulled a mouth activated lever which made a little hissing noise as the unusual opening in the floor unclamped itself and slid open to reveal a broad stairway leading down to hidden levels he'd no idea were even here. This place was so packed with odd things to marvel at, but this wasn't the time. A chill feeling rushed over him as air rather a bit more stale than even up here was stirred. That didn't smell very good at all, but it was still breathable. He watched in fascination as it slid apart to allow entry. So many interesting things in the old world. This was definitely one of them.

"Remember, three hours. If I'm not back by then, I want you to try and get out of here, even if you have to do whatever this voice you're talking about says, alright? I don't want you to die." She kind of gritted or her teeth and accepted what he was saying. He wasn't even sure himself really why he was doing this, but she really did not seem bad at all. Left in a terrible situation for some reason or other, she was simply alone. It was almost understandable why she was so out of her mind when they first met. A tremendously long time alone combined with running so low on food would probably do that to anypony. How long a time she was by herself was still unclear.

"Close this door behind me, I will bang three times when I come back." He told her and set off down into the unknown tunnels beneath. This was done with a lot of trepidation, even now his experiences with going into underground places were a mixed bag and going further below brought with it odd feelings. The door slid closed above, sealing him down in this place. The lighting was different. There was a distinctly pungent odor of something unidentifiable down here, not just settled dust. What was he getting himself into this time? Oh well, the decision was made.

Perhaps it was wrong to bother, but seeing the poor mare looking like that and withering away in such a fashion just felt like leaving her would be the wrong thing to do.

"Here I come." Bolt muttered and walked down the lower hallways. At least this was less confusing, everything seemed to run in straight lines. Most of the lights here still worked, clinging to whatever semblance of life such things had. It smelled damp down here, it might be leaking somewhere. That could present a problem if it was too bad. Whatever possessed the old ponies to build this place under the ocean? His guesses could only be wild fantasies.

It might be something quite different than anything he could come up with. Whatever that smell was, it was slowly getting stronger in the direction he was traveling, it added an almost salty tinge to the air. There were arrow markings along the walls with letters stating 'C-1'. B-1 was on each wall. This was clearly the way to go. Right towards that scent. That was a bit foreboding. This may be a bad idea, but he would keep his word. At least he'd got see more of the world. This was not how he wanted to do so, but that thought settled in. Thinking about it, this felt good. Never having imagined so many more strange, wondrous, and terrifying things to be out there was like having a veil removed from his eyes.

Ahead was something shadowy which quickly slipped out of sight. There was a strange skittery sound which made him stop short. Was that one of the things? Best be very careful. Bolt inched forward, using all his skill to remain silent and stealthy as he'd been taught. There it was. Something weirdly bulbous with several odd legs and a hard looking moss covered shell was ahead. He wasn't looking for a fight, but might have no choice. It was right in the path where the arrows to C-1 pointed. There was only so much room to maneuver here. It would be best to avoid fighting if at all possible. What could this thing be? How many were there? For whatever reason it moved off down another hallway.

As the strange creature walked off he hurriedly moved on. Did these tunnels run under the entire dome? Maybe each dome had similar? Perhaps that could be useful information. Something felt very distinctly, wrong, down here. At least it felt relatively more wrong than anything else lately. This was saying a lot. He'd encountered so many strange things on his journey thus far it was almost odd for something to truly feel this far amiss. The thing appeared to be a simple animal, he could probably take one on directly, but a group could be a real problem. Best be on his guard. Stealthily plodding along, the source of the water made itself known. The closer he came to the entrance for C-1 the more concerning it was.

There was some green mossy substance lining the walls, he didn't really know what it was. It was getting damper feeling the further he went. At last it was in sight. The hatch to C-1 was open. It must have been left that way. This looked unusual, every door encountered up to this point was closed. The reason for this was readily apparent. Down the stairs in the water were the bones of a pony wearing a tool belt and a kind of crossing harness looking thing with multiple items attached to it he was not familiar with. Those things must have been chewing on the remains. That was concerning. More concerning was the several inches of water on the floor below.

Did this poor pony get trapped down here or something long ago? It would likely never be known what really killed them. Might the pony have simply fallen down the stairs? That'd be silly. This much water wasn't good. At least the entirety of C-1 was not filled. It must be a very slow leak from somewhere. Not knowing the mechanics of either air pressure or water, he could not have known this place was essentially a giant pressure vessel. He could not have known the slow cart ride down here was purposeful, to prevent leaving at speed so as to avoid a condition once known as the bends. The tunnel below and ahead looked clear for now.

Forced to wade along in this extremely cold water was far less quiet and disconcerting, it could attract unwanted attention from whatever may be down here. This encompassing feeling of wrong was becoming worse the further ahead he pressed into the unknown. This feeling was not caused by just the presence of the odd creatures, he could tell that much. Something far more sinister felt to be lurking ever just out of sight, or around each corner he quickly surveyed. Yet, nothing else presented itself. There were more of the large shelled things roaming around here, meaning there must be a way for them to have got in, somewhere. Perhaps similar to the open pool from before?

These things were not related to his goal and fairly easily avoided so far. Slipping by them skillfully, allowed further progress. The real problem now was figuring out where to really go. It was unclear exactly where he would have to go. This was essentially aimless wandering, but since it was all straight the worst that could happen was he would reach the outer edge of the dome. The walls were well-marked with directions back to the hatch. Some doors were closed down here, and would not open. Most were not. It would be very unfortunate if where he needed to go was in one of these inaccessible rooms. Then he noticed it, marked on the wall an arrow and words indicating 'Adjunct C-1'.

A solid stroke of luck, he'd not even been wandering too long yet. It was still more than long enough, this place was huge. Some foreboding, strangely intense sense of having been here and done this before befell him. A truly odd sensation. This serious feeling made little sense, he'd never been here before, what was that all about? Shaking it off, Bolt continued towards the adjunct location. What this really meant was lost on him completely. There was something that must be done there, but what if he couldn't figure it out? This course of action wasn't really considered very much, but he was committed to seeing it through, whatever happened. The air was quite stale here, so much as to be almost painful to inhale.

It left a strange taste in his mouth and his muzzle almost feeling as if stuffed with cloth. The off odor clinging to everything was in itself not helping matters any. The humidity in here was almost stifling, making it feel quite difficult to take proper breaths.

"Ugh, that smell is even worse here. It's coming from in that room. Right where I have to go, of course." He thought, quickly advancing through the water-filled hallway. Stepping up close to peek inside around the metal door-frame, he quickly pulled back, having caught sight of a monstrously large version of the creatures he'd so far successfully avoided.

The others were squat and shuffled along slowly. This one was large, gangly and sickly looking, and certainly dangerous. Almost too big for the door. A single swipe of claws like that could slice him in half. Bolt could just barely make out, in the mold covered room there was a terminal on a desk behind it. That could be what he was looking for, but it was being blocked by this monstrous thing. What was there to do? He would have to risk getting this things attention. Struggling to come up with a plan to do so without getting killed was another matter. An idea formed in his head, but it would be very difficult to pull off.

First, he would have to get the attention of the big beast, and lure it out of the room. Bolt banged once on the metal, the thing was quicker moving than anticipated, but nothing he couldn't handle. It turned and stepped oddly towards the sound in almost too small increments. How very strange it was. The shelled creature lumbered after this intruder into it's realm, as he ran along in front it. The sloshing water and hooves banging on steel flooring would surely attract more of the things, this was what he was counting on. He was staying just out of reach of the monster trailing behind, and turned a corner. There in the tunnel ahead were a couple of the things coming towards the commotion.

This would be far enough away from the room now. Keeping an eye on its position, he dared let it swipe a claw at him just as he dove under and between the others, causing it to hammer a large claw into one and making it bash into the other. None of them liked this very much. More were coming from the opposite direction, he'd counted six in total. There may be more somewhere, but they were probably too far away to notice this. This was going surprisingly well. These three were now clamoring at each other in a weird sort of hissing gurgling way and attracting the attentions of the others. They were quite agitated. If he could just slip past them again unnoticed.

Starting to understand and follow the layout of this place should mean he could circle around and reach the terminal unharmed. There was a hallway he could advance down and turn. Following this let him slip away out of sight and head straight back to the room from the opposite direction. Down the hall the sounds of the chittering things hitting each other was audibly echoing. Good, they should be occupied for a while. Maybe enough time to figure this out. The terminal was intact. Good. On the screen only appeared 'Serial Line: Attach' The only thing clear about that to him was there could be a line of some sort that maybe needed attaching to something.

Glancing around the room he could see there was one cable into the back of the terminal, and indeed another fairly large wire hanging loose in the water, was that it? Lifting it up, there could be seen to be a hole shaped similarly to the end of the loose line on the back of the terminal. Did it go in there? Was this how it worked? Only one way to find out. Shaking it off and pressing in the end did fit, but was still a little loose. It would fall out again on its own. Pushing the table around very gently while keeping quiet as possible, and pressing it up against the cable managed to hold it still. That should hold for a really long time if left undisturbed. Looking back to the screen, the words had been replaced by 'Adjunct Functioning."

That seemed like a good sign. Now to get out of here. The sounds of the things were growing fainter, better hurry up. They must have finished their little brawl between themselves. Stepping into the hallway he noticed there were two worn buttons on the outside of room, marked open and close. If that closed the door it would ensure the terminal was left alone. He just knew it would make a lot of noise, but not nearly as much as the sheer cacophony it set off when he pressed the close switch. Squealing, screeching metal unmoved in who knew how long sparked and ground along its tracks, screaming in protest at the sudden application of power.

The door jolted in small spurts of motion, causing phantomlike screams to positively echo throughout the whole floor of this mostly ruined facility, just before it finally slammed home. The echoing just seemed to go on and on. That was so fantastically noisy it actually hurt his ears. Bolts ears twitched to and fro, what was that last sound? Somehow, that did not even seem like part of the echoing.

"Uh-oh." Bolt gasped, getting ready to run flat out if necessary. It would be dangerous to gallop full speed on these water coated floors, but he really did need to get out of here rapidly after that.

If all that didn't attract something, it would be extremely surprising. Yes, they were already coming this way. A lot more of them than before, where were they all until now? It didn't matter. The only choice was to evade and get out of here. In all, this task must have taken a good two hours already. There were far more than he'd initially counted, were more coming in from somewhere? Each step was dangerous in itself, but he could not stop. Must reach the hatches above. Being forced to turn away from the creatures more than once and find another way to go was almost making for lost bearings. Finally back on B-1 and running on dry floor again, at last it was in sight. Finally, the other hatch. Only one problem.

A large group of the things were scuttling along the hallway directly in front of the stairs. The door above was right there, but it was impossible, there were other creatures approaching from behind rapidly, and he couldn't even call for the alicorns help. Fortunately for him, he did not have to. The hatch slid open, drawing their attention as Flourisher leaped down the stairs and landed heavily at the bottom, her gun floating alongside.

"Get down!" She yelled, almost at the same time spinning up the barrels on the impressive gaitling weapon. Bolt flopped onto the floor as she opened up, practically tearing a line straight through the creatures.

The amount of sheer attack power that thing had was insane, however, these things were heavily armored and it took a lot to bring them down.

"Run!" She yelled as he raised his head. By now he was near freezing, that water had been incredibly cold. It was actually hard to move. They both retreated up the stairs, and she yanked the lever to close it. It slammed home. Bolt lay there, wheezing. That was too close. He stood up, shivering and shook off, then looked around. He'd sprayed her with it. Oops.

"I'm so sorry! I.." He went to apologize and she jumped on him. She was giggling.

"You're okay!" Flourisher snuggled against him awkwardly. This was uncomfortable. She felt so warm.

"How did you know I was back? I never got to bang on the door." He really did wonder.

"I heard a weird noise. I was so scared. I got Friend and opened the door." She said. Friend?

"Friend, what friend?" Bolt asked, quite curious.

"Friend, silly." She looked at the gun on the floor. She called that thing, Friend?

"Uh, okay." He didn't know what to make of that.

"Friend has..is special, daddy told me. Never let them take Friend, never." She seemed really fond of the thing. It took a long while to really dry off. That water was so cold that it felt like he'd almost fainted when he first got in it, that actually hurt. His muscles felt cramped. She held him close for a long while. He'd got completely soaked while running, but occasionally shivering was a small price to pay for avoiding being eaten alive. The air on this floor was definitely better than the two below. After a bit, it finally occurred to him that checking if he'd succeeded might be prudent.

"Well, let's take a look." They got up and walked over to the commissary terminal. Something was definitely different.

Flourisher walked up beside him and pushed the selection number of something marked 'H.F. : 22' prompting a strange whirring thump sound to come from a contraption behind the counter and out popped a little box with a strange air whooshing noise which contained stringy looking things. It was almost startling. The number dropped to 21. Was that how many there were of each thing? There were numerous other items, some of which were very low or at zero and indicating 'Ingredients Required'. Whatever that meant. Where did that come from? It was even hot.

"Hay fries!" She blew on the strange stuff a moment, then stuffed her muzzle right into the box and sloppily chewed on the contents. It was such a comical sight he couldn't help but laugh. The alicorn did not seem to care, happily munching away on whatever it was. It looked good, smelled good too. The thought crossed his mind to wonder how old this stuff must be. How was it even edible after so long? The strange old ration packs did seem to possess a similar quality, but they certainly did not taste very good at all. Bolt decided not to touch any of the really low ones, if they were limited he did not wish to deprive her of more.

He pressed a selection for something titled 'M.F.S.B' which seemed to have quite a high number. That thwumping whooshing air sound happened again, and out popped a bowl full of things he could not quite identify individually. They looked pieces of plants of various sorts, but it smelled delicious. He cautiously nibbled at them and found them to be subtle, delicate things of sublime flavors he'd never known. Before realizing it he'd eaten the whole bowlful.

"That..that was amazing." Bolt felt quite a contented feeling right now. Energized and alive. The taste was heavenly.

"You like flower salad?" Flourisher asked.

"Is that what it's called? I liked it very much." It was just wonderful to him. She giggled. Each time she did something like that, it somehow felt a little off. Her mannerisms really made it feel like she was a little filly. A long period was spent with them trying various things. She'd not eaten properly in so long that her appetite was positively ravenous and kept insisting he sample anything she ate, and even some things she didn't just to have him try them and tell what she did or did not like very much. Eventually they were both just sort of laying over the table with dishes everywhere, groaning.

"I don't think I've never been so full in my entire life!" Bolt exclaimed, and she agreed. It was an unknown feeling.

One never really felt before. It was good, but made him feel lethargic and stuffed. Overeating was never a thing he could have experienced before. The alicorn got up and started putting the emptied dishes into another slot along the wall marked simply 'Dishwasher Return' which made it's own whooshing sound and they went disappearing off to wherever that was. This was all so strange. Where did they go off to, and where did all this food even come from to begin with? He'd sampled so much of it. Most of it was beyond anything he'd ever imagined before. Some was not so great, but there was simply no comparison to the powdery near-tasteless ration packs and other scant foods he'd lived on most of his life.

This was awesome. It felt so good to be full for once of something more substantial than what he was used to. The rations kept you alive on little for days at a time, but this was entirely a different feeling. She lead him to a room with things that were kind of like beds. Far from the most comfortable things, but serviceable. They both slept quite well. Unfortunately, when he awoke it would soon be time to leave. He'd actually slept well once again. The mare was already up, holding in her mouth colored waxy looking things he'd never seen before, drawing on some paper. He didn't want to interrupt, but he really needed to set out again soon.

Not really wanting to tell her what he thought the truth of his next question probably was, felt painful.

"Flourisher, what's your dad's name?" He inquired. She set the stuff down and trembled a moment. Huh?

"I, his name?..his name..is...his...name...I...I..can't remember! I don't remember daddy's name!" She started crying all over again. This was horrible. Oh, he felt so bad for asking now. Should he tell her the probable truth?

"Flourisher, it's alright. It's okay. Can you tell me what he looks like?" He asked quietly. Sniffling she opened a drawer.

"I can show you." She rummaged through a bunch of papers, some of which he noticed were colored, with odd images of two things with sticklike features, and some scrawled writing like 'Me and daddy' underneath.

There were a whole lot of them. Flourisher pulled out a worn and faded piece of thick papery stuff. It was a just recognizable image of a handsome looking unicorn stallion with a sort of dullish purple coat, a sharp golden eye and one that was blue? Different colored eyes was very unusual. A cutie mark in the shape of a crossed ruler and pencil graced his flanks. He looked smart. The picture looked extremely old. Bolt thought this over for a long time, and considered telling her he felt she was probably never going to see him again, but decided against it for now. It was still likely a bad idea to upset her. She clearly missed him terribly.

The fact was that in all likelihood he'd died a time so long ago it was hard to think about.

"Listen, I don't know if I can find your father. I wouldn't even know where to start. I can try, but I cannot promise. I might also be gone a really long time. I can't even tell you if I will make it back, it's very dangerous out there." Bolt explained. The poor alicorn looked just so miserable as he spoke. At least she wouldn't starve for a good while. He really didn't want to leave her here alone, but what else could he do? She reached up and pulled him into a tight hug. He felt positively dwarfed by her.

Finally, she let go and gave him an odd little oddly metal looking card on a kind of thin chain thing labeled 'I.D. Dr. Ins.'. There were odd metal strips along it.

"Daddy...said you need one of these to leave." Flourisher was clearly having a hard time with the fact she would be alone again already. They went to top up his water bottles, and filled his packs with some of the more abundant foods. At least he wouldn't go hungry for a while either. After this, she lead him down numerous hallways and back to where he'd first entered this dome.

"What about that thing out there?" Bolt asked her, a little unsure.

"He won't bug ya with that, silly." She looked so forlorn and afraid. It felt so hurtful inside to leave her like this.

"The one thing I can promise is, I will try to return for you. Maybe this voice you're talking about can be stopped." He really did not want to leave her here. It wasn't right. She'd been alone so long already, with nothing but empty corridors for company.

"Do you think there are any other ponies down here?" It was a long shot, but he should at least ask.

"Monster pony in bay four ex..expy...expewi...lab dome? He's a big meanie, stay away from him!" Flourisher said. What? Monster pony? Bay four? Lab dome? What was she talking about? That did not sound good at all. Part of that sounded like a question. That was very weird.

"I call cart for you!" Flourisher pressed in a panel he didn't originally notice on the opposite side of the room, not that he would have any idea what it was anyway, and the large door slid open once more. Call cart? She actually smiled at him as they waited. Eventually a grinding sound came to a halt out in the tunnel.

It was another of the slow moving things he'd first arrived here in. At least he wouldn't have to walk the rest of the way. He climbed into this sort of contraption once again.

"Which way?" She asked. Oh right, she didn't know which direction he came from.

"That way." Bolt pointed down the rails the way he'd previously been heading. The spinning red lights were still here, lending that odd glow to everything. This time he would avoid leaving the main tunnel. As alluring and potentially amazing as exploring some of the other domes might be, he couldn't take that kind of risk again.

The mysterious alicorn messed with some controls beside the panel she'd pressed in, and watched the whole time as he slowly rolled out of sight. Bolt waved at her and the dome sealed itself once more. This was probably going to be a long ride. This veritable city beneath the water was a true wonder. He'd really only seen a small part of it. What was in the rest? It could only be wondered at. Perhaps someday it would give up it's secrets. What if he really could not manage to help her? She would die down here, alone.

"Please, find daddy." Flourisher spoke to herself, slowly walking back to her room, where she gazed at the photo of her father for a long time. She lovingly and carefully tucked it back under safely in the drawer. There was lots and lots of paper laying around this whole place. It was easy to find more empty sheets. She took a piece and some of the waxy colored things, drawing a little picture in both their colors. On one she draw a little lightning symbol, beneath which she scrawled: "Me and Bolt."

A painfully hollow dance, to be sure.

Alarm Bells

The untrue abounds here in these darkened days. A hinted at scent that gives rise to shivers down the spine. Maybe you will even hear what you want to hear, but the alarm bells are ringing deep inside. It is naught but a lie to oneself to feel better about it. You can sometimes touch but feel nothing. Perhaps a silent prayer to the sky above that will receive no answer. The sins of the past are simply too great a weight upon all to come after. The treachery of a fleeting stab in the dark is sometimes the only thing standing between you and the darkness eternal. There is no light here with which to blaze forth and shatter this infernal conundrum. Pain unfettered, unhinging the poor souls sentenced to such endless misery.

For misery, is all that exists here. The few standing forth to present themselves as would-be heroes fail and fall with alarming regularity. All know it, all feel it. This concept of existence is wrong. Something is missing, incorrect. But, what else is there? The illusion of freedom crosses all eyes and adorns the yearnings of strained hearts seeking meaning in this meaningless anguished place. The true depth of this misery unknowable. Something foul prowls just outside the senses. A blurry, malevolent feeling follows it everywhere it goes while the ghosts of the past are calling for redress with silent voices unheard. The small smattering of actual plans made do not even amount to a mockery of planning.

The wicked and treacherous stalk those the slightest bit unwary in this wasted slate. A horrific art gallery of terrors set loose upon the land from that very last day in the light. What is this chill feeling that freely flows forth from some unknown chasm to set even the darkest heart to shuddering? The way ahead is unclear, if there is indeed any way forward at all. The pitch of nearly eternal dimness and dull gray surroundings dampens all spirits perpetually. What is it that strides forth from the mists of memory and time to proclaim its dominion over this utter futility? Why would anything bother? The charred lands carry little of actual value. Who or what would want the sum total of almost nothing?

The lingering pain within all that still eek out a living in this twisted visage of existence is tremendous. Some try to simply ignore the feeling and seek what little fortune they can. If they can even manage that much. The world lays only a blistered and blasted wreck around them. Among this wreckage lay so very many hints that long ago, there was true color to the world they now wander in near aimless fashion. Some might have occasion to wonder 'why?' Why did those before them let this come to pass? Did anybody truly want this to happen? Surely not. The epic futility of it all surely speaks for itself. Some, a rare few, know with the deepest conviction in their hearts that this, is wrong. It looks wrong. It feels wrong.

Even as it lay silent and still, something is not right. The pieces appear to fit to all but these rare few. It makes only for further pain and suffering given. The minutes have been falling dead on the clocks for ages now. What if they actually moved but a half-moment ahead of where they all stopped? Will some new horror rise yet again only to tumble down upon those daring enough to face it? But time does not move here. Nothing ever moves here. Or does it? It is just a passing bad feeling like the many already inflicted on the remainder. The dead skies remain gray and blank as the ground. Passing time may as well not exist. This feeling however, refuses to go away. The sheer wrongness of it spilling out everywhere.

What is it? What can it be? This is no passing chill. Even the very air itself tinged with the feeling it may well attack any unfortunate passersby. An all-encompassing dread given over as if some twisted gift to well up from deep inside. Who can give voice to this rising feeling of further despair? Perhaps there are none with the strength to make a move. Any move at all. Does the board lay static, the pieces sitting in quiet deadlock? Is this stalemate eternal, never to be broken? Do any yet possess the will to push the pieces across the board? The remains of the world sit a flickering dying shell of themselves. If anything is possessed of the clarity to take action, it is not saying a word.

What is there to accomplish when the world is just one quick breath short of ended? One quick strike and all would be over. This is how close to the abyssal edge the world is truly teetering upon. A sliver-thin knife-edge is all that remains between life and an already dead world becoming completely hollow. Even bothering to give it that final push would seem a futile action in itself. After all, the world already ended. Life still refuses to completely yield. Defeat is never easy to swallow. Perhaps all those clinging to life are just going through the motions before finally collapsing in totality along with everything else. Those little flickering lights in the darkness mean little to any but themselves.

Life refusing to yield is perhaps nothing but flailing about while sinking to the bottom of the deepest trench. The pervading feeling of wrong grows ever stronger, turning even the staunchest heart to fear. Something is stalking, waiting in that darkened pitch to pounce, perhaps after a final end to it all. Or maybe it is nothing whatsoever. This chill is settling over all things, setting those alarm bells ringing very far down within. Somewhere not so far away, a little something has developed a little crack. So small it is unseen, so tiny it should mean nothing. How very wrong.

Bestill my beating heart. If I had one.

Truth

Is always the first casualty of war. Truth is against you. Truth is against the enemy. Truth is not your friend. The moment war breaks out everything becomes questionable. Are your enemies lying? Are your supposed friends? Who benefits the most from perfectly timing when to say the absolute worst possible thing? The truth might get you killed, it might get them killed, or worse. Truth may be undeniable, but even that which is can be twisted askance in favor of a tempered version to suit the narrative of the day. Who is at fault? Was it the leaders of the time? Is it everyone else, or no such thing at all? In the blackened and still ruins of Equestria, truth is but a whisper.

A quiet murmur against the perpetrators of this heinous crime committed towards the living. What truth was there to be gained from this murderous and vile act? Perhaps there is no truth left to be had in the here and now. A casualty unto itself of the hatred and sheer ire swirling in maelstrom around the now fallen cities of old. Truth is perhaps as much a corpse of the past as the brittle bones laying in forced mute repose. The few remnants faltering in the fading light had precious little time or chance to reflect on what may have brought them to be toppled from on high. Certainly not on the truth of it all. Themselves or who they chose to follow, what did it matter then? Who to follow, who to blame?

What if everyone was lying, not a single actor spelling out even the simplest of truths? Mayhaps there is no truth to be known about the matter. Long lost to the mists of devoid time, maybe, just maybe this is simply all there is to it. The long growing shadows of war perhaps simply ground down all opposition to them, and then it was too late for truth. But wait, what of those lonely tiny sparks in the wilderness that dare grow wild and defiant of this fate? Their guiding lights may have been long extinguished, but even the smallest of sparks may start a roaring blaze of epic ferocity. Such fires oft burn themselves out very quickly, only to blink out of existence.

On the off chance one does not, it may engulf the whole of things. A roaring fire of such proportion may illuminate the darkness surrounding the real truth of things. The more pressing question then, who wants to hear it? In this dread darkness however, maybe it is all who still wander this blasted land devoid of most hope and life. Hope can hurt a great deal, especially if the fire grows too dim to sustain it. How many now would dare stand amidst the growing flames and endure the pain to know the truth of things? Surely, someone to throw fuel on the fire and keep the growing blaze alive. A grand mighty beacon to those who might still possess just enough strength with which to stand and fight for it.

Truth can never stand alone nor feed itself, it must be nurtured with great care and brought dutifully to the fore. Who has the will, the tenacity and endurance to force the issue upon the unwilling hosts of the dead wastes? Stamina is quite short a supply in an empty world near done. A short reckless action almost always enough to end a faint light. The pain ever rising to a more fevered pitch is continual, unending. The rote actions of drudgery and wearying days may be all that is left to be given. Did truth die on the same day it all collapsed? Can it even potentially be resurrected? Truth itself was in short supply in all the days of the raging war and unfurled banners claiming to represent that which is true.

The very heralds claiming it was their own, told little to none. The only question then, did it hurt them to do so? No such roaring fire has yet sprung to life and action in this darkness slowly enclosing on all sides. What little light is keeping the walls closing at bay dims further by the moment. The darker it becomes, all the brighter those few dying embers appear, some able only to offer false hope and more misery to follow. The pain of all that is, compounded further by such dying hopes. The truth shrouded in shadows depths held dearly away from the dim light of day is just short of a shadow itself. An unwanted shard that lays buried in the hearts and minds of the pained remainder.

Unwanted or not, the truth is there to be found, waiting for just a fraction of a second to pour forth from the boundaries and shed light where there is little to none. This wound tension grows ever tauter until the springs behind it must break free of their moorings. How much more will it take before this landslide falls on the unwitting and unwary? Certainly there is no force greater than the real truth, ready to burst the dam and explode in a feverish tumult as yet unheard of. The say the truth hurts. How much more does it hurt when it comes falling down from on high to bury everything beneath it in sorrowful mourning over the given truth? At least a grievous wound to be certain.

The powers which were at the time, are long fell and supposedly emptied of all power or agency. Like all which is great, the truth has no cares to what it lays low or topples. It is merely the truth, given as it is, and the most powerful weapon ever wielded by any. The trouble with this sort of sheer power is that it will never follow whoever aims it completely, and not without cost to the bearer of this truth. The truth, hurts. It wounds deeply and surely. Never to miss.

Oh yes, truth is a mighty weapon indeed. You should take great care it does not turn on you. One particular pony is perhaps about to learn why.

Game Board

"It's your move. Whatever could you do? I win, concede." The almost unseen pony sitting in the dark glared sidelong down at the playing pieces scattered across the magnificent marble board between them and let loose an almost inaudibly disturbing hollow laugh. Only his eyes could barely be seen as he looked over the board. It nearly shone in comparison to the drab surroundings, and him. The wastes are kind to nothing and nobody. In this still room hidden between one room and another the bright and shiny thing stood out like a sun in and of itself. An impossible thing, as was the pony sitting on the other side of the table.

Much to their annoyance this game partner let loose a laugh of his own, a bright and bubbly laugh out of place here in some manner untellable. The pony hidden in the dark was quick to anger and went to flip the table, but the other one waved a hoof in an accusatory manner towards them. It halted his action instantly.

"Uh-uh..you know the rules. Neither can quit nor interfere until it is done. Hush now and let me take my turn." The dimly lit surroundings were almost made less dull just by this ones mere presence. Reaching out to slide a piece forward the dark pony interrupted.

"You can't use that piece, and you claim to know the rules!?" Those eyes flickered oddly. The reply was immediate.

"Look closer." Was the only response. Their hoof pushed until the piece slid into place.

"No, no! You cannot!" It shouted in some terrifying and imperceptible way. This anger was futile. The board allowed the move.

"How dare you? You seek to raise my ire!?" Those dark eyes practically quivered with rage aimed straight towards.

"Do be quiet, it's your turn." The unconcerned tone seemed to anger them even more, but their gaze turned to the board once more.

"Very well, but you will pay for that..with this." At that the dark one took a piece not yet on the board and set it into place. A brief flicker of concern crossed the others face.

"Bringing out the big guns, finally? I was wondering if you were ever going to use them. I thought perhaps it might be avoided, but it never can with you, can it? Let the game continue then. You have just raised the stakes considerably, I wonder what makes you so confident this time?" This was stated with true attention. It had been a long time coming. The pony half-hidden out of the light sat back and some grim satisfaction passed their countenance.

"It is simple really, I have found the one move you cannot thwart or deny in any way. I can't wait to see your face when I finally beat you." That hollow laughter echoed throughout the hall, it nearly had some actual feeling to it.

"We shall see. The game is not yet decided." Another move and another were made and countered. Time and again pieces were maneuvered, toppled, replaced in an increasingly desperate bid to gain advantage over the opposing side. Each time the board was nearly cleared only to have another set of pieces clash. Neither able to claim victory or defeat.

"I would say you are cheating, but we both know you can't." It was nearly an accusation towards the dark pony, but it made little difference.

The game continued as it was. The stream of moves and counters refined further and further until infinitesimal actions on the board began to matter all the more. The strain of concentration at this depth was nearly palpable between them. There were others watching now, sight unseen. This was becoming a real show. Such intensity surrounding the game was a rare thing to be relished and closely scrutinized. Those watching may learn something as yet missed, some new stratagem to add to an increasingly complicated arsenal of the same. Now this, was exciting. The game pieces ebbed and flowed back and forth with increasing ferocity behind each withering move, calculated to an exactness undreamed of heretofore.

The players long since ceased any conversation, so intent were they on their moves and gambits. Unrivaled depths of planning and actions taken were being reached. The sprawling board was littered with pieces come and gone. Some only to be called upon again. Neither side showed any sign of relenting. This time, someone was going to win. Who would it be? The game was ceaseless, difficult to follow. The intensity just kept building with no end in sight. This was really going to be it.

The victor will surely be decided soon.

Once & Future Past

‘And do I dream again? For now I find, phantoms in every shadow, behind every corner, blind.’ -

Ponies and all other races sorrow and regret unbound spill unabated over these wasted lands. Bloodshed long held forth only continues to sharpen the wicked blades and machinations of those hidden in pall from prying eyes. The pain of the living ever deepening the divide between further. Can anything at all halt the slide of those tormented souls still wandering this, the blistered remains of the past? Few remain who would claim to be fast friends, or willing to gamble it all on another. Who and what is worth your own life in exchange?

The merest semblance of such niceties clings to existence. Should they stand in fear and fall? Should they run, perhaps only to be swept down the unknown river of strife and cackling madness laid out before them? Where be they, heroes? Does any such thing exist? They usually just die. The split of quiet decades undecided as the cards fall down. None would dare guess what lay ahead, that would be daring to invite the pain of hope. No hope shall be granted here. Hope invites pain and misery here, they always accompany one another.

No cruelty too small, no amount of suffering too deep to descend towards are the only prizes apparent. This wellspring of insidious torture silently echoes throughout the world, given only to whispering lies into any willing ears. Unheard such echoes are powerless. One must wonder, who would listen? Is there some grand architect behind it all, ensuring they reach those who would dare listen? An all but unnoticed coldness of the soul pervades the living. A creeping, quiet chill to darken and twist the minds of unwitting hosts. It hurts. It hurts badly.

Is it mere imagination, that something so ill exists to flit and flitter just at the edges of sight and intuition? Such things cannot be. They must not. Is it the day this flimsy house of cards comes crashing down to grant a swift and final end? That day is surely not far off. Those still prone to seeking fortune find it ever more difficult to proceed with that vague reason for existence alone. It is not they have any true goal, just a reason, any reason to cling to. Selflessness in the now generally means death, or worse. Pain, is all. Everything. All roads hurt.

A curving twisted path may be straight as any other in such a state the world finds itself left in. Did ponies grand plans ever truly exist? Some do not even imagine it was ever so. It is little more than folly and fodder for scathing words and punishment to even suggest such heights possible. The poisonous sting of hope is thwarted at every turn, something to be stamped out by hoof, claw, and by bullet. Such anger directed at all that may bring hope makes it very silent indeed. A world becoming ever more quiet would disturb those of grand old times.

This same quiet reflected across the vast dead void of a country daring to linger in the face of finality, it’s own death throes fall just short of complete. It is just a dream to think of green spaces. An errand only of the utterly deluded to even try. Yet, some still cling to hope. Hope this can be made right. Hope that light may still shine once more. How dare they rekindle the dying light of hope? Again those dark and envious eyes shrouded, they glare in hatred. Whispered threats and entreats to give up are still not enough to dissuade such stout souls from hope.

Something more is needed. Dark and terrible as it must be, they must suffer for such stiff refusal. Or perhaps nothing is there. Nothing more than a passing feeling like a cold breath taken. What was that shuddery feeling that swooped past just now? Merely the air, surely? Some just keep walking. With no other choices offered and no particular path given, on they trot and tread heavily on what lay in the wake of their passing. Many fall. A few somehow do not. What shallow sliver remains to drive them forward? This river of pain is unending.

What could there possibly be to gain by inflicting even more on themselves? A rare one or two don’t even flinch in the face of such uncompelling odds. On it has went since those bright times unremembered, but how bright was it ever really? Those dwelling in the wastes do not know what lay above, nor below their very hooves. Always out of sight and mind, yet the fires of hope flare up once more. How dare hope rise yet again? They thought war was something mastered, they were wrong in thinking so. You cannot harness chaos for very long.

Should ponies of the long dead past have voices to speak, it would only be to chide themselves strongly. A well-deserved scolding they never received, and then it was much too late. This game plays out but one way. This was at best an imaginary mastery. Finding war only to be a thing experienced, thinking to put themselves above it all was found in the end to be a grand heresy committed against their own being. Realization. What pain given in futile gesture. Whole countries started to tear themselves apart long before ruination rained from above.

These empty days all that remains to be seen of then are the tarnished shreds of powerful war machines left shattered amongst fields of corpses slowly crumbling away, strewn about as if crumpled toys. Fodder for some overindulgent toddler of gargantuan stature. No titan of ancient stories did this. Ponies own machinations lead to this end. Where once the grand works created from the combined skills of diverse races now stand only desiccation to see. The glittering gleaming spark of olden days is thoroughly crushed beneath it all, adding to the pain.

Impossibly tall thin towers once amongst the greatest accomplishments of all their knowledge stand far, few, and slowly crumbling along with the whole of things. Where are those gleaming sparks now? It only takes one. A single tiny spark, just that. One and one alone to ignite that roaring fire to build the hope long extinguished from ponies hearts and minds. Dreaming of such lofty things here is a pain which cuts all too deep. Who would even try? Who could even make the attempt? Why risk that kind of suffering?

Who would throw themselves against every ill the entire world now has to offer, knowing all the while, they can only die? Insanity takes many forms, some are indistinguishable from reason. How far can one really push before the whole weight of the world comes crashing down atop? Does anypony know the answer to this question? The answer may be far more miserable still. It has been said holding onto hatred is like drinking poison and waiting for someone else to die. How many still walk this dying land, inebriated from the sip and sup of hatreds fount?

Intoxicated on the feelings of power it conveys, but it as many things is naught but a passing lie to quell hope yet further into realms of futility. The deadly games of the past sometimes still play out on this tattered board, unimagined by the very players standing upon it. These unwitting actors goals unknown and many purposes hidden, they can but jump the hurdles set in front of them, all the while forever missing the whole of things. This mosaic of pain should be clear for all to see. It is not so. Their eyes seeing, yet blind to the whole of it.

Eyes, hearts and minds clouded by misery and some deep-seated feeling not quite understood rising from within, it is not difficult to miss the truly obvious. Are these dead moments sounding the final knell before all crumbles at last to dust, gone from all memory? Each and every action perhaps a step closer to that waiting oblivion just out of sight. Why would anything push towards such an end? It may yet be just a simple error of thought or judgment. Standing still is oft not an option in these miserable moments given out freely to any and all.

It ends the same way. Few if any could or would envision anything more than this slow descent into emptiness. It is just a small wound in a long string of many to realize how dire things are truly becoming. The shortest, thinnest, thread now bearing the most weight as some unseen sword waits to drop from on high at the most inopportune moment. Under such grave weight it must certainly snap in short order. What gives rise to this agonizing misery? Concepts of fate and destiny lay in as many tatters as the rest.

Did anyone ever really think they were directed by such lofty things? What manner of travesty may lay ahead in these diminishing moments is only futile conjecture. The whole of things still hidden in the mists of doubt and the leftover fog of war and wayward souls doubts. We are waiting here, now. At last, Traveler and her small band of companions were approaching the location her now somewhat damaged armor suit was directing them towards. Both her and Tanner did not know this large griffon and the two ponies accompanying him overly well yet.

The slight misadventure where they met stood out in her mind in every small detail. The fight with her parents murderer was a complete surprise that left her shaken, miserable, sick feeling. It played out over and over again in her head. He was right there in front of her, that horrible pony that could not be. He seemed just short of invulnerable. Only the merest lucky strike proved the difference. She’d almost died yet again. This was far too much for her. Tanner was very attentive to her suffering since that moment of horror and terror unexpected.

Their new allies were also a comfort, hard won. She’d earned their respect instantly upon their rescue from that seemingly unassailable foe. Who was he? What was he? Every moment since then seemed to drag jaggedly into the next as they walked. Considering her every move over and over in this endless succession was taxing and draining. The ridiculously strong pony very nearly ended her life with a single blow. That was disconcerting in itself, the relative ease with which he’d almost dispatched her from amongst the living.

Against him, the armored suit seemed almost as much protection as a sheet of translucent paper. Without it she would of stood no chance whatsoever. None could have withstood a truly direct blow of such terrible force. Traveler’s own strength, as much as it was from long toil, did not even approach comparison. He was nothing at all like the first time they met, some ghastly horror instead. No simple murderer could he be, even given the terrors loose in the wastes. Something else entirely. Just recalling his voice sent tremors throughout her.

What manner of ill did he truly represent? That encounter hurt very badly, in many ways. Why did he kill her parents for some nonsensical reason? Was there a reason? They owned nearly nothing of real value. Certainly nothing worth killing over. At least, she did not think so. Barely having learned to operate the armor suit affectionately dubbed Moonlight, and then they were gone. Thrown out into a world she scarcely knew and precious little time to prepare. Her survival thus far was a series of nothing more than fortunate accidents, and she knew it now.

It was not her skill, strength, or anything of her own that decided finding herself here. Only luck and fortune, not things to be trusted solely. It hurt deeply to know, she was not capable. There was no time to learn to handle herself, no time to realize her own strengths or shortcomings. She was simply here, and in some ways still felt entirely alone. The sting of closely losing her first real battle and her life over again struck at her confidence, and decisions made thus far. Why was Down Range gone? He should be right here, right now.

She insisted to herself he was alive somewhere out there, there was no proof of his death, but he was not here and no sign of him. Was there anything she could have done differently and better? Anything at all? Just short two months passed since then. They were definitely getting closer to where a library once stood in times of old. Traveler tried to be upbeat in speaking to the others during that time, they were in no way at fault. If anything, it was she who failed to do better. There must have been something, didn’t there? Just one thing?

Was it possible? Could she have done more? What was abundantly clear, far stranger things were going on than first suspected. Was there more to her parents deaths? Some now seemingly otherworldly pony struck them down for no apparent reason. Half a year now. Was it really so long since being torn from..home? Home. Some feeling she did not really understand was also underlying it all. An ill feeling in the stomach that just would not relent. Could it be an illness? That would not be good, especially now, so far from basically anywhere.

Essentially from what little information given, they were basically precisely in between anything else that may once have been of note. Tanner suggested the group stop here for the night. It was relatively unexposed, and as always in the wastes, utterly dead in appearance. She sighed and agreed. How long could life drag itself out like this? She wondered in silence. Once more setting the suits defense systems to guard in the direction most likely to offer an avenue of attack towards them, they settled in and built a small fire using the surrounding materials.

The griffon showed off how to light the fire using only a hard stick and various other pieces of this and that. It was difficult to actually make work this way, but much to her surprise and negativity it finally took. Wood and other burnable things were not particularly difficult to obtain. It was a nice gesture of the old griffon to show how her it was done. He offered up other ways of achieving the same results. Traveler found herself feeling unsure of why he was even bothering to do so. The days and nights since the fight had been altogether uneventful.

That they went uninterrupted for so long almost felt like a trap the world itself was laying for her. Something ready to spring shut atop at the most unaware moment. That could not really be true. Just something silly conjured up by a concerned imagination. It must be. She was very grateful for the company. Depending on what lay ahead, however, they might be parting ways all too soon. This also concerned her deeply, it almost seemed a terrible thought to just let them go off on to whatever their ultimate destination was by themselves. It was so very far away.

They were almost certainly going to die, or even worse at the hooves of that maniacal monster if they’d not intervened. Yet, it was that very intervention that robbed of her friend. Did he still live? This thought always returned. Where was he? Not a single indicator was given since then by her suit, asides her companions. It felt like she was responsible for them. Was it her responsibility to keep them safe since she freed them? How did this sort of thing work? Though these thoughts filtered through everything, it felt better not to ask silly questions.

The group with them were clearly capable of taking care of themselves, would it be wrong to assume she held more responsibility? Prisoners though they’d been, it was a situation caused by something so unusual it might have been impossible to avoid no matter what. Traveler gazed into the fire, flames dully reflected off Moonlight’s exterior. It’s odd visage a strange comfort to her. It always felt..friendly. Traveler shook her head. That could not be possible, could it? There was something else buried in that feeling of friendliness, darkly.

The feeling of some familial benevolence always seemed to stir in close proximity to it. Maybe she simply latched onto it as something always familiar in an always unfamiliar world. Regardless of why or how, the feeling remained. She sighed deeply, staring into the flames for a long while as the others sat around chatting and cooking a small meal, spreading some of the water bottles around. It was all kind of tuned out. Her father stepped towards her. She jolted and let out a loud yelp. Everyone was looking at her quizzically. Tanner was in front of her.

“Whoa there, it’s just me.” He looked concerned. She smiled at him.

“I uh, guess I was just lost in thought.” The whole group kind of chuckled. That was a good sound, one that was truly appreciated.

“No kidding, Traveler. Eat something, alright? I think you’ve been skimping a little too much, you don’t look so good.” Tanner insisted. The food was never that great, but was anything in the wastes?

She did occasionally eat something other than the terrifically awful cereal she’d been given. It was practically a treat to do so. The one thing they were not short on was water. Found amongst the wreckage of the battle with that awful pony were many oddly new looking water bottles. The suit systems indicated it was okay. The water even seemed to taste a slight bit better than any they’d ever tasted before. It would only be guessing how either of these things were possible. There were no clues at all as to how or why among what little there was to find.

Nothing that would really explain much of anything. Everything else appeared perfectly ordinary. Even the chains the tremendously strong pony was using to haul the odd line of crates behind himself proved to be nothing special. Just old rusted metal, barely usable even for that. These questions were puzzles in themselves. He simply made no sense. Something Down Range told her a while before came to mind whenever she thought about it though. When pressed about the old world he’d said that sometimes things appeared to make no sense only because they lacked context. An unusual word.

Naturally she’d asked what context was. Traveler realized over their time together she truly was very naive, but few knew much about the past. It was not her parents fault. They only wanted to protect her, keep her safe from the horrors that life now seemed to toss carelessly upon the path taken as if to test the utmost limits of endurance. Her father did teach plenty of things in the time they’d spent preparing. Many things she never knew of at all before then. It was a lot to take in. Being surrounded by friendly faces definitely helped now.

This was certainly more like what was long ago envisioned when imagining adventure. Unfortunately, the sadder truth was realized in kind. Imagining it, was nothing like the real thing. It was not excitement, it was not fun or heroic. Being hurt was painful. Even that horrible pony whose image refused to leave the mind felt pain when hit hard enough. It was not a desire to inflict real or imagined harm upon any that drove, she was merely looking for a book. That fantastical idea given over by her father, one that he still held even in dying. It meant a lot.

How far could she go was a thought which weighed heavily. Many things seemed to have much more weight than previously imagined. Looking off towards her suit reflecting the little fire, that odd feeling of care remained. It could not possibly really care about her or those around her, could it? It was just a machine after all. A well crafted glimpse into the past when ponies were still capable, powerful, wise..or were they? Whatever it was to bring them toppling down, lay the whole of the world low along with them.

It felt very dark and lonely when the rest of the group finally went to sleep. For a long while she lay there wondering why it felt even more lonely than before she ever had any friends. Were they friends? Her intervention may have saved their lives, but this somehow felt off as a reason. They would be grateful for that if anyone else did it. The hefty griffon did appear to be truly friendly, to a point she almost felt somehow uncomfortable with his actions but he was just being nice, right? He’d done nothing wrong or anything strange beyond that. Just being grateful.

“Oh, what is my problem? Relax. He is just a really nice guy. Dad trusted these griffons. I need to calm down. This is close to what I always wanted, right?” Traveler thought to herself and panted a little bit. It wasn’t quite right. Her father was supposed to be here as well. The thought of the timing of it all crossed her mind as a sad realization dawned.

“What if we left before that happened and they showed up later? He would still be with me..but mom would be dead and we wouldn't even know it happened yet.” A few tears welled.

Perhaps it was better they died together? She figured her father would never have forgiven himself for not being there. Traveler decided this was the case, it was it a little easier to bear that way. He did his best right to the end of his very life. At last sleep claimed her. Being surrounded by trusted allies like this was a comfort like her family had been. It let sleep come much easier. A deep and dreamless sleep was quite welcome. The dull morning came as it always did while they packed up what little there was to bother with and headed on once more.

They’d been keeping to a soft pace since the battle. She felt it prudent, and their new companions were not in any particular hurry to reach their destination anyway. It was somewhere far away, distant and unknowable. They were definitely quirky, some of their banter back and forth was a little confusing, or perhaps it was still just unfamiliarity with how things worked between others. Traveler did not tell them too much of herself, and since that crying outburst in front of them all she’d been hesitant to expose herself in that way further.

The creaking cart was being pulled along by Tanner this time. It was nice to switch between the group occasionally. The sound of it rolling along was a bit of a comfort in a way, something else to hang onto as familiar. It was also worrying. At some point it would need either repaired or replaced entirely. If it gave out now there would be a serious problem carrying all of their supplies, mostly water. Water proved to be surprisingly heavy. Whilst weight was not in itself a problem, the bulk of it all simply would be too much for them to bring along.

The thought of ditching such hard won prizes was something she did not like contemplating, but it might come to that. She considered perhaps with the suits power even without wheels it could just be dragged along behind but that would be awkward at the very least and perhaps not last that long. It would have to be dealt with if it came to that. She asked the group what they thought should be done about it most likely when, not if it happened. They thought up several ideas between them but none sounded like it would entirely work out well.

Not even Tanner, hauling along that almost ridiculously large travel sack of his would be able to bring along all of the water bottles and canteens even if he ditched all the odd stuff he was carrying with him. He held onto many oddities she felt were most likely worthless or useless or both, but he insisted they were not. She did trust he was correct. After all, what did she know? Only one half a year and almost died three times already. It was a pathetic feeling that ate away at the confidence she’d only started to build up before those moments.

What was really going to happen? Could this book even really be found? What if there were no intact copies left anywhere in the entire country? Were there other countries it might be found in? Crossing the entire world to find it was never something really considered before. What if it came to that? Could she go? Would she? Finding the book did mean a great deal to her father, but would even he have gone that far? His vision at the core was very simple, find the book or the missing information it once contained and make their farm truly work.

A simple but grand vision of bringing life back to the world in some way. She truly did want to fulfill this wish of his. At least she’d stopped muttering stuff to herself. Having others around certainly eased that sort of thing. Was there really anything to complain about? They were going to help search when they finally got there and that’s all that actually mattered. It really felt good having them around. Recalling the horrible endless trudging all alone through the empty wastes still brought on a bit of a shudder. Never again, whatever it took to not be alone.

Traveler actually found herself smiling as she looked around at them walking beside her. This surprised herself to take note of. The occasional squeak from the damaged leg joint was much worse than before after taking that tremendous hit. At least it still worked surprisingly well. The surface of the leg where their respective kicks met quite literally caused cracking across the entire surface of the metal up to the hind knee joint. Without the armor such a blow would have at the very least shattered her leg if not outright killed on impact. He was so deadly.

How was that pony so ridiculously strong? Her father never mentioned anypony having such strength before. Did the crazy pony always possess that much power? No, he was vastly and utterly different than he was mere months ago. What could possibly have happened in that short span of time to cause such a huge change? He was deadly and cruel before, but this was something far outside of normal. The rest of the group could not explain anything about it either. Only that it was definitely different than anything they’d ever seen or heard of.

He was definitely just a pony at the time, was he something else now? How could that be? The horrible eyeless sockets on his face were intimidating in themselves. He’d said Boss did it to him, but why? There was really nothing to go on. Thinking about it was probably pointless, but his very existence was absolutely puzzling. What of this pony called Boss anyway? Was that even his real name? That was easy enough to guess at, Boss was not a name but a title. This did not help much or at all. How strong was he in comparison?

At least this gave one small clue, he was likely even more powerful. Thinking about this made a chill run down along her spine. How could anypony be that strong, let alone stronger? Something very strange was happening with them. If she was very lucky they would never encounter him or his associates ever again. All those empty days wandering, wanting only to have her parents back. Even as they’d fought, it closed in that harming or even killing him would not get rid of that gaping aching feeling of losing her parents, deep in her heart and mind.

A hole where hope and happiness should be was only being held at bay with newfound companions. Perhaps if not truly friends it was ever so nice to be able to call those around her that at the very least. The sheer wrongness of the rest simply would not go away, but they were there. Time to move ahead. It felt good to be surrounded so. No aspect of this journey thus far was without some fault and flaw that seemed aimed directly at her being harmed in some manner or flatly destroyed. There were still so very many miles to go.

Between her and only one of a possible slew of destinations she may need to travel towards were a vast gulf of miles waiting to be trod, if there were any real hope of finding a full copy or even scattered portions of this book it might require scouring the land far and wide. It could take months more. Maybe years. The thought of walking here and there for literal years on end was not an appealing idea in any way whatsoever. This was not like in her beloved storybook. Wandering a vibrant world filled with wonderful things was what she saw in there.

Mysterious temples, lost civilizations and exotic locales were supposed to be fun and interesting things to go seeking. In comparison to her beloved book, this was no minor adventure and nothing to be desired. For weeks and then months on end she’d felt tormented with a few bright spots to give light along the way. This was not fun. All it gave was pain and the emptiness of loss inside which she could not actually shake no matter how hard she focused. It was always there inside, and always would be. He told her only that it would ease with time.

Death already came near to taking her, was she strong enough? Perhaps coming even this far was already enough? There would be no shame in tucking her tail between her legs and running for home now, having already made it farther than ever imagined on her own. No! Traveler looked ahead at the bleak landscape. Doing whatever possible to make this world even a little better was something that must be done. If not by her, then by somepony else. Maybe she could make just that much happen, or help another. She looked to Tanner off to her side.

This was breaking the rules Down Range once suggested and could very possibly be a bad idea much of the time. He was of course correct, the world as it was now is unaccommodating, inhospitable. Unfriendly and extremely dangerous in all respects. She simply needed to be close to others right now. So far everything was absolutely normal. Perhaps too much normal, but was anything really? Some strange apprehension filled the air around them as they journeyed onward. None of them really knew what lay ahead on this journey.

Even the griffon who was widely traveled never wandered to these parts before. There was no call for it. All of them could feel this and made note of it as days passed. What was this odd oppressive feeling surrounding them? This felt wrong. Nearly feeling wrong as that awful pony did. Was this dangerous somehow? That terrible squeal from the leg joint yet again caught her attention. The inherent cloaking abilities of the suit were already compromised by it before, in its current state even thinking of using that awesome ability would be pointless and useless.

Severely limited as it was, she absolutely needed to find somepony who could perform repairs. Was there anypony left that really knew how? Such an ability could be very helpful. The apprehensive feeling was not letting up at all. This was not natural. It just wasn’t. It made every moment a dreadful ordeal. All they could do was try to keep others spirits up. Traveler felt comforted by the armor suit surrounding her. Without it she felt moving forward would be something she could not manage to do. Barely, she always felt skittish now, entrapped.

“Oh this awful pressure around us. Tanner, you don’t suppose this is something like before?” She asked of him. They’d both relayed the previous experience of unusual fear that happened a while back with unseen creatures.

“This does not really feel the same. I can still think straight. In some ways this feels worse, but there is nothing out there. I feel like something is just waiting to jump at us. Should we really keep going ahead into this?” It was a legitimate and loaded question.

Should they really continue to venture ahead when things felt this way? This was the direction the suit marker pointed in. Far ahead lay the location of an old world library where the book would be, hopefully. If it was not, heading into the vast unknown was daunting.

“I must continue. I have to. It is that way, somewhere. I cannot ask any of you to keep walking into this with me. This is definitely wrong. I know it is not really anything to do with you so if any or all of you want to turn away, I understand.” Traveler looked around to the group.

Each looked to the other. Tasket started laughing wildly, taking them all by surprise.

“We have to go that way, it is the straightest and shortest path for us too.” She halted. The sound of laughter did seem to help dispel the oppressive atmosphere just a little. Still, this was not right in any way and hard to take. At least they were together. Facing this alone may have made her turn back or try to go around instead of through. Maybe there was no way around whatever this was. This heavy feeling hanging over them couldn’t be at all normal.

What was with this? The days and nights dragged on and on as they trudged through the gloom. Things appeared even more dull than usual if that was possible. A hazy misty light fog suffused the area. It did not really obscure anything but lent itself to more apprehension. A creepy shivery feeling which would not go away for the slightest instant. Still no sign of Down Range either. Would they ever see him again? She felt certain he was alive, but what if they never saw each other again? He is alive, he is. He has to be. She thought this endlessly.

Also certain, it would feel better if he was here. What really happened to him? He should have caught up with them by now. They were moving at a steady pace, but he would be much faster simply by virtue of being by himself. She still only referred to him as Down Range in front of the others. Only her and Tanner thus far knew he was really an ancient general of the equestrian army. What that well and truly meant she’d never quite got to find out and would press him to explain much more if she saw him again, but it was a very big deal.

Each step ahead was an effort now, only supporting and encouraging each other was allowing any forward movement. How long was this going to last?

“I don’t like it. We've been walking through this fog for a week now. Fog goes away, but this isn’t clearing at all. I would say I feel like we’re being watched, but we’re not. If something wanted to attack us it could easily have done so by now.” Gunnar spoke gruffly as was his way. The fact even he was disturbed by the strange feelings of foreboding hung terribly.

He was far more experienced than any of them. This could be leading to serious trouble.

“Well, we are still alive. That crazy monster pony did almost kill us back there, I am quite sure. That we survived to come this far is some luck. Not sure if it is the good kind. Before you two pipe up, I know it wasn’t your fault. No one I ever knew before would have stood a chance of stopping him. If this great fighter here hadn’t shown up I know in my heart we would all be dead already.” Gunnar was speaking about her. Inside her armor Traveler blushed softly. No one ever spoke about her that way before. Great fighter? Could it be true? No way.

In reality she’d almost been killed along with them. She needed to say something. It kind of hurt to do so, but it was necessary.

“The truth is..I almost got you all killed, and myself. There is something very horribly wrong about him. The first time I saw him he was nothing like that at all, and I was so frightened of him even then. I ran away. I’m just a cowardly filly that ran away from a hideous monster.” She said this all demurely and rather sadly. It felt so bad to say it, but it must be true.

“NONSENSE!” Gunnar belted out. What? They all looked to him. She was taken aback.

“You sure have a weird sense of what is cowardly. Tanner has told me all about your walk through the trackless wastes alone, why, and after that what else happened. You do that, then go off wandering to some old city just to look for a book where you almost die again. You next ran into some kinda monsters that very likely almost killed you again. Then you head this way only to run smack into that guy for a second time and what do you do? Take him on headlong.” Gunnar sure could talk at length. Did he take a single breath during all that?

“Then, after having already been beaten down you come straight at him again. By my count that’s six times you’ve almost died, but here you are. Tell me again how you are so cowardly?” His eyes were so piercing. All this never really occurred to her or was thought. That was actually quite confidence boosting to hear. It also felt like she’d been slapped in the face.

“I..didn’t really think about it like that.” If Traveler’s voice trembled slightly, they didn’t notice. Those were highly encouraging words, especially coming from him.

They couldn’t see it, but she was practically crying tears of joy at having heard such a thing said about herself. It meant a great deal that this griffon and those she met might actually think so highly of her. What should she say to that? All she could do was thank them.

“Thank you very much. I did not see things like that.” Was all she could come up with. Was that enough to respond to something like that? Really having no idea what might be expected and how to act in any given situation was something she still fretted over a whole lot.

If it was not enough they did not appear to notice. It felt really good that others felt she was so brave. Was it really true though? It was hard to believe, considering how horrified she’d truly felt each time something went badly. This somewhat lightened the mood a little, but the heavy feelings of dread and apprehension were not letting up in any sense. Each day and night felt like a terrible crawl forward against jittery nerves. Something was out there. This feeling did not lessen in the slightest, and only felt heavier as time passed. Something dreadful awaited.

When were they going to get out of this dead place? There was more to the feeling. This place was dead. Empty. Nothing lived and nothing grew here. Nothing. A week gone by and still they were encircled by heavy fog. Soon, there must be an end to this soon. A couple of flickering friendly markers showed on her floating display. Something about that was off. They never flickered before, only showing red for hostile or solid blue for friendlies. This was something unexpected, the feeling was weird in a singularly odd way. Was this good or bad?

“Why is it so quiet all the time? I feel like my hooves aren’t making enough sound. This is bad. It is. I can feel it.” Tanner was struggling the most with this pervasive tight closeness of their surrounding. The fog blanket was so thick without her suit indicators they would be hopelessly lost by now.

“We are together, and we are strong that way. If we keep moving fast as we can we will get through this.” Traveler felt she must say something to keep his spirits up.

Many times they were forced to walk around or climb directly over whatever lay in their path and heave the supplies and cart over. This was annoying them all, but she would not part with it. Finding long ways around such obstacles would take longer still. It was taking everything they had to continue this trek into always surrounding feelings of darkness and dread. As if in answer to some unspoken prayer the fog became less heavy in a wide area. It did not at all disperse around the edges of this heavenly feeling clearing. At least they could see now.

“Aho there wanderers! Thank goodness. Might you kindly help an old stallion in distress?” Called out a somewhat weak sounding voice ahead. Aho? A sheer red-coated pony with a whitish mane and tail stood beside a very battered looking robot of some model the armor suit was not managing to identify. Odd. It seemed to be halfway up a far incline and unmoving as all of of it’s legs were nearly destroyed from clearly heavy combat. It was in terribly rough shape overall. Her companions immediately detached the cart before moving towards them.

Presented was a pitiful sight of an old pony trying to help push the thing uphill. The robot itself was some odd mottled gray and white which may once have been paint, or perhaps it always looked that way. There was no telling. The group slowed and approached cautiously.

“Pony strength level insufficient.” It stated coolly, coldly. So very mechanical. Far more so than Moonlight, Traveler noted. This all looked and felt odd in some undefinable way. Something was building inside, telling her to run away. Run away? She pushed ahead anyway.

“Are you insulting me, you colloidious clump of clambering junk?” The rather old looking pony retorted. What did he just say? Did it even understand such language? What little Traveler knew of robots was generally they did not speak much and simply obeyed specific orders and ponies, usually from the military of the distant past. How did this stallion have control of it?

“Warning Warning. Ponies incapable of necessary sustained forward momentum. Self-harm imminent. Retreat. Flee. Escape.” What was it saying or talking about? Escape?

Something about all of this did not strike as being right or normal in any way whatsoever.

“How dare you? You're lower than a snake's belly in a wagon wheels rut, you riotous collection of bumbling bolts and cogwheels.” The strange red pony said to the odd machine. What? Its profile looked fairly equine, but the head was more like some odd clear thick bubble filled with blinking lights surrounded by twirling and clattering objects she did not know the nature of. This was not something Down Range ever mentioned in any way when explaining.

It did not match any of the robots he described to her. It was only upon approaching they could see this ponies cutie mark was an oddly nebulous black blotch, like something that was spilled. What an unusual marking that was. The possible meaning behind it escaped Traveler at the moment. Now that she thought about it, Traveler realized she hadn’t asked about her new companions marks either. Was it normal to ask about them? The feeling she should run away bubbled up again in her mind. Run away. Why was this feeling getting worse and worse?

Traveler went to step up the incline towards the pony on the gentle hillside and found she could not lift her legs to go forward, any of them. What? A blue colored flicker crossed her floating gauges. What was happening? Moonlight warbled out something in that hefty deep mechanical tone it held. A statement she’d never heard from it before right as the friendly markers slightly blurred red for an instant and back to normal. Huh? Was her armor damaged or broken worse than she thought? That would be immeasurably bad at this moment.

Looking straight at the odd pony he almost seemed slightly blurry? This had a weird feeling to it she could not place. Her vision fizzed. What the?

“Extreme danger. Condition: Blue.” It made an odd clicking sound as it spoke. What was Moonlight talking about? Her vision snapped and blurred for a second more. What was happening? Try as she might the armor would not move any closer towards the pony. It was then she realized it would only move backwards away from him. What was going on?

Already on edge and implicitly trusting this marvelous armor, Traveler yelped out a command to the others. Something was not right about this pony.

“Everyone retreat. Run!” Hoping this was not a stupid decision, for a second Traveler was concerned they would not listen to such an order coming from her without any kind of warning. Thankfully, without even an instant of hesitation they all scattered as she slowly started backing away. Not daring to turn her back and take eyes off this potential enemy.

Moonlight was insisting some kind of danger lay ahead and she believed it. The expression the red stallion maintained to this point was neutral. Now, he turned his head toward her, very obviously angered. What now? His eyes glinted in some truly weird way. What?

“I don’t know how you saw through it, but it seems my covers been blown. Here I was going to make this easy on you all. Now, I am going to have to torment you. I am very sorry about this.” His voice was much different now, gravelly and deep. Not weak at all. Huh?

Before her eyes his coat color changed to some off-white, wearing a long ragged heavy black cloak she did not see before. What? Where did that come from? The cloaks edges were some dull rusty red color. That was actually a border and not dried blood, was it? She continued to back away, not daring to take her eyes off him for even an instant. Oddly, the ancient unmoving robots friendly marker remained. What did that mean? Was it actually trying to warn them off earlier but did not have the means to do so? Did this otherworldly appearing stallion really have nothing to do with it, trying to use it as a lure with which to draw them in?

It worked, this was dumb of her. A mistake. The cloak tied around his neck almost floated along, trailing over his haunches as if some unfelt wind blew the material around. Tisket and Tasket would doubtless take up a position to try and make use of their sniper rifle if necessary. Tasket much preferred a very nasty looking shotgun she carried which for some reason was named Pepper. Traveler did not know what Tanner and the griffon might do, but at least they were all out of harms way for now. At least, she hoped they were safe enough.

“It would have been painless. You would have died oblivious and instantly, but no. You ponies, always so stubborn. Now that you have broken it I have no choice.” He was stepping down the incline towards her with heavy solid steps. Broken it? He looked strong, even felt powerful somehow. Hopefully nowhere near so much as the horrible pony from before. Turning his head to grasp and bite down on the handle of some wicked looking double-bladed thing in a sheath she did not see before either, it pulled free as he continued to stride forward.

It was terribly odd looking in shape and weight, a mouthpiece to hold was in the center and two fairly short semi-circular blades protruded from them. Some sort of oddly menacing purple smoke wreathed the dark shimmering blades. They must be magical, no mistaking that. What kind of power did they possess? This did not look good. He was very clearly confident she could not stop him from killing them, but why did he want to? Could this pony just be insane? That was too easy to think, and not a good thing to conclude so rapidly, she felt.

Recalling the advice her father gave about combat situations, Traveler would not simply assume. He appeared to simply be an earth pony wielding magical blades which should not be too difficult to deal with, but something was definitely wrong here and with him. His approach and demeanor conveyed he did not expect to have any trouble dispatching them at all. She’d been backing away this whole time. Always talk first if possible. If for nothing more than to try and glean information. An edge, the slightest advantage, anything to assist.

Her father gave very sound instruction and advice what felt so very long ago already. She missed her parents so terribly much. Wishing her dad was here wouldn’t help.

“What do you want? We do not want to fight or hurt you, I promise.” Traveler said cautiously, not wanting to provoke this stranger further in any way. It didn’t work.

“Fight..me?” He said, somewhat muffled as he spoke around the handle of that terrible looking weapon. A cackling laugh sounded from him as his head bobbed weirdly. What?

That could not be good. If he would not talk or indicate, the best and only thing she could hope to do right now was keep an appropriate distance between them. She’d found in previous encounters that her armor suit provided very little in the way of firepower except at very close range and only as a last resort. It was not truly meant for fighting. Its role was stealth and surveillance, two things it was nearly useless at in its current condition. The suit did pack a tremendous amount of punching and kicking power, but were those any good against this guy?

It was always better not having to find out. Whatever he was planning on doing was not obvious. Friendly markers told her everyone else stopped moving now, likely having taken up what they felt were strategic positions on this mildly hilly terrain. She’d kept track, Gunner was still with Tanner off somewhere directly behind. They’d managed to keep her directly in line with themselves, it was a good idea. It would make it that much harder for an enemy to have shot at them or something, or see exactly where they went with her directly in their field of vision.

Something clanged off the shoulder of her armor, sending sparks and smoke flying. Nothing was felt. Not so much as a shudder. Not a thing. Not the slightest tremor.

“What was that just now? I see damage to my armor, but nothing is shown as wrong. I am still moving fine. I didn’t feel anything and he didn’t move or do anything.” She thought. Seriously alarmed, Traveler almost went to run for it out of fear of the unknown, but caught herself. Running might not be a real option here. This pony was doing something, but what?

She kept her eyes on him the entire time. He did not move a muscle when that happened. Everything was still just fine with the suit. He raised his head to chuck the bladed thing straight at her with incredible speed. What!? Too much force. She stepped to the side just barely in time as it went twirling past, scraping along the left side of the suit and cutting a fairly deep jagged groove only to go spinning by and sailing by up past her flank only to whirl around back to his muzzle with which he caught the truly awful feeling weapon effortlessly.

“He’s fast!” She exclaimed to herself, immediately realizing a truly direct hit by that thing would have caused instant and serious damage. He wielded a unique weapon of terrible power, that much was now obvious. So much as denting the armor was difficult, and she now faced somepony capable of easily punching through it for the second time. Moonlight could not get a real gauge on this opponent. Much as before, nothing was noted as special about him. That could not be correct. Why did she have to keep running into this kind of thing?

Something smashed into the right foreleg of the armor with tremendous force, showering more sparks and she went to fall over. No, there was nothing once more. At the same instant that bladed thing was thrown hurtling towards her again, already feeling off balance by the situation she caused the suit to fall off to the right and slam heavily into the ground. The wildly twisting blades missed by mere inches to return again. That terribly deadly weapon only missed because she fell by mistake. This was really really bad. What was going on here?

Heavier armor would likely have been too slow to dodge that, but would stand much more of a chance. If only she had more powerful distance weaponry than the 9mm defense gun. Down Range would have easily been able to dispatch this guy, or would he?

“This is not good. My armor is only barely faster than him and something weird is going on. Also, did I hear that strange weapon..screaming as it flew past?” Traveler thought as she quickly got up. How could a weapon be screaming? That didn’t make any sense at all.

Something was very incorrect about everything going on here. This was not a pony, she could almost sense it. Absolutely nothing about him looked right, faceless beneath that cloak and even though she was nowhere near him he felt somehow wrong as well. Shooting him was not an option, she decided. Something just seemed to tell her it would be useless. There was only one thing to do, and trust her rather new companions would be able to assist if needed. They would help, right? She needed to trust them, as they were trusting her right now.

“I don’t want to do this, but I must take him on up close. Sooner or later that thing is going to slice me into pieces if I stay far away from him.” Traveler gulped as she said this to herself. Once again something crashed into the armor from an angle that made no sense and a huge gash opened up along the back, sending smoke flying off and sending her staggering. No, that was not real. Most of this wasn’t real, or at least she hoped. Yes, there. It was not true. These were some kind of somewhat real feeling illusions, right? It was only a guess.

More rapidly realizing she did not really get hit by anything at all, this time she reacted by running straight at him while that wicked spinning blade flew past, just missing. Because of her sudden move forward he was thrown a little off guard and target. The wailing screaming sound coming from that screeching spinning thing of death was terrifying, she could not pay attention to that. It sounded like a hopeless wail the likes of which unimagined. Must not take a real hit from that at any cost. The wailing chorus as that blade flung past was extremely disturbing.

Since her armor was not hindered as it was during the last fight, this time she could utilize much more speed. Traveler positioned herself as best she could while running headlong at this threat to avoid the return of the blades. Each time he threw it towards her was too close, he was just too quick, his movements rigid but rapid and disconcerting. Dodging was not something she could keep up for very long like this. It whipped by again. Another shot or two and she would be destroyed. This thing was death made incarnate. Distance closed slowly.

Right as it returned to his muzzle he managed to catch it and go to sweep it downwards right at her head on approach but was a mere millisecond too slow as her armored forehoof straight-on connected what amounted to an uppercut with his unseen face and jaw, sending him tumbling backwards end over end in what would have been an otherwise amazing set of multiple backflips to land in a heap. Wait. Something about this contact was wrong as well. Terribly wrong. Terrifying. He was far too light to the touch. That feeling made no sense.

“Why did he go flipping like that? He’s..lighter than he should be! What?” Traveler had little time to think this over as he slowly in some sick shaking motion rose to his hooves once more. A blow like that from her suit at high speed should have staggered and broken bones at the very least, if not outright killed anyone on contact. How was he getting up again so rapidly? He should have been floored at a bare minimum. How could he be standing? Everything about all this was bad and incorrect. Fortunately, a little obvious damage was done despite this.

“Who are you? What are you? I know you’re not just a pony. I just know.” She could not help but ask. Would he even bother to answer? Surprisingly, he did just that as he dusted off his cloak. Lifting his right foreleg, he pointed straight at her. During the tumble those horrible blades landed on the ground beside him which he glanced down at. His voice was so gravelly and dark.

“I haven’t taken a hit like that in many years… How wonderful! However, your being able to gauge me in any way is a surprise. I cannot let that stand.” Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.

He appeared to lean down and retrieve his weapon but held short and took a step back as a shot rang out. It was fired from Tisket’s sniper rifle at a downward slope from somewhere. Good, they were helping. Trying to prevent him picking it up. He and his sister must have found a good position to engage from. It was an otherwise good shot. If this stranger did not step back at that instant he would have been sliced right through by the powerful round. This actually made Traveler feel even more wary about the situation. How did he know when to move?

There was no way he could see any of the others from this distance. It was impossible. There was a strange sizzling sound popping off somewhere far behind, but she could not dare to look away. More was wrong here. It was in this moment she realized the ancient decrepit robot on the hill was stammering out something the entire time. Still? The same sentence as before while it clattered as the dim internal lights sputtered off and on in strange sequences within the strange machines head. Why was it repeating that so much? Many times over.

Over and over about forward momentum. How odd. There was once again little time to consider, he was already on the move again. That trembling terrifying voice combined with the shrieking wail emanating from his weapon. The resulting combination was disquieting on some level unfathomable. Tasket’s shotgun was being fired in rapid succession as well somewhere. What was happening now? Were there more enemies? She could not turn to help them. Looking away now would immediately result in death, Traveler was certain of this fact.

“Few survive but a single throw from my chakram. To have done so three times speaks to me of power you should not possess. This raises so many questions! No matter. It is time you depart for the great rainbow bridge. Die now.” The what what? Whatever was he talking about now? He said this so calmly, like nothing happening here even mattered to him in any way whatsoever. Suddenly his hoof stamped on the chakram, skillfully sending it spinning up to catch once more. So quick. How did he do that without cutting himself to ribbons?

Tasket should have taken another shot by now. Why wasn’t he firing? Wait, he was firing, mixed in with the shotgun blasts between elsewhere. That indicated more trouble over there.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this? We did nothing to you!” Traveler desperately intoned. This pony was a creature of devastating power and destructive force all by himself. If there were more like him around it would be completely impossible to win this battle. A fight she didn’t even want. He began this for no reason that was apparent and would not say why.

He was also volunteering nothing and saying very little otherwise. Being attacked like this with almost no warning already threw her off, but something beyond all this was happening here. It could be felt all around. Something stirred and slipped by unseen. What was she thinking? Her enemy right now was right there in front. Looking away meant only doom. It was just him, wasn’t it? He was taking up some odd looking stance. Was he going to try throwing that thing again? It was ridiculously powerful. A deadly force by itself that weapon.

A bolt of some kind slammed into the right side of her armor from nowhere once again and she staggered sideways, but it flickered once again as another shot rang out from the sniper rifle which he deftly avoided by only slightly moving again. How did he keep doing that? Could he..see the future? That was impossible. So Tisket was still trying to assist despite whatever was happening over where he was positioned. If not fired at that precise moment that terrible blade would have come hurtling through the air once more and cut her down already.

It would carve straight through her armor and be over. This whole thing was feeling worse and worse. The terrible visions of herself being chopped down by that thing seemed to be layering themselves onto each other. She could see the faltering images that were not real on her armor in multiple places, but that one groove. It was real. That truly did cause actual damage. It told just how powerful a thing it truly was. A straight on hit from it would cut her right in half with no resistance at all. Why wouldn’t he stop? This was pure madness. It must be?

The unmoving robot still warbled garbled statements weakly and incessantly about forward momentum. She must make a choice on what to do immediately. If the old machine was really trying to warn them then what it was saying must contain some clue to this utterly chaotic scene. It was an assumption. It may mean nothing. It might even be part of this elaborate trap they’d all so stupidly blundered into. It was a mistake she recognized quickly now. Why didn’t she approach a stranger alone, especially here and feeling like this? A mistake again.

“It was so dumb of us to head straight for this guy asking for help, why didn’t I think more first? Alright, I’ll beat myself up later for it.” Traveler admonished herself, trying to think of what this all meant and come up with something to do very quickly, strategy, anything.

“Oh dad, what have I done? I’ve let us walk straight into an obvious trap with me. I knew better how to do things. I have completely ignored good advice from both you and Magnificent just because I felt bad. If I get out of this I will not let it happen again. I promise.” She muttered under her breath to herself while facing this deathly threat.

This pony was deadly and about to take her apart a piece at a time. Her displays now identified the strange weapon as ‘Empowered Chakram. Zebra Craftwork - Unknown.’ Empowered? What did all that mean? Zebra? She only knew what little was passed on to her about them. Was this a zebra? No, he looked like a pony. Could that be a deception itself? It didn’t matter. It was time to take a calculated risk. A gamble the likes of which Traveler never thought to ever make before. A gambit on her own life, and all the others quite likely.

“Moonlight, here we go again. If there is any truth to what that rickety robot is going on about..I think I have one option.” There she went, talking to her armor like it was a pony or something. Maybe she should stop doing that? No. This suit saved her life repeatedly thus far, and felt to be nearly living to her in whatever manner that was possible. Was it somehow? Lowering her head and aiming the magic apparatus she could never use much straight at him, she braced herself, preparing to do something unthinkable and probably reckless.

Traveler set the travel options tag, set for maximum speed and aimed herself straight towards this assailant, engaging that system. This was probably going to hurt very badly.

“Praying or something? How appropriate, silly pony.” He said, aggravatingly. Praying? What did he mean by that? He absolutely was not simply an insane wastelander. There was vast raw power behind whatever he did and that meant skills with long practice behind them. Time to pony up once more. There was absolutely no will to harm this guy despite the situation.

“Why are you doing this? Please, we don’t want to fight with you!” Traveler tried one final time to implore this stranger to cease his assault. Would he consider anything she said? Her heart was not in trying to kill another. After so much time seething in anger before, it was still not instilled in her to desire violence. It struck that she was a simple farmer. It came to mind that was all she aimed towards returning to being. Would that be satisfying after all of this? Could that life even be returned to? This was all so exciting, yet frightening and dangerous.

“I am telling the truth, we are only passing and have no reason to fight you.” Were her efforts to stop this going to be in vain? All her life she imagined adventures as fun and exciting jaunts into the unknown. Nothing like this. It was going to get her killed either through her own fault or somepony else who made the decision to end her life. Was that happening right here, right now? Was this pony wielding a ridiculously powerful weapon going to be her immediate end? Things about him just felt wrong. An air of indifference to everything almost hung in the air.

How could she feel that? This faceless pony she was about to hurtle herself towards yet again was powerful, dangerous, but was he evil? What? What was she thinking? Evil? She knew the word, but not what it truly meant. Her father once explained the concept of good and evil as he knew it. It did not amount to much. There was a huge gray area where some would think another evil and the very same would think themself in the right. Where did this one stand within that concept? That strange flicker in the surroundings was beginning to rise once again.

If he was truly evil was it within her right to kill him? She did not know. There was no time left. An action must be taken already or she really would be finished very shortly by this guy. He was going to attack again, every time he did so some weird thing happened and stuff that was not actually occurring would flicker through her vision. No. Never assume. Her knowledge of battle tactics was sound. Doing the same thing more than a single time could be a feint or misdirection of some sort. He’d already done whatever this was multiple times.

Performing it again might allow a weakness within to be found. Overwhelm your opponents before they do it to you was also something her father taught. Give no more time and act already. Do it now. She could practically hear him telling her to get on with it. Engaging the travel tag caused her to rear on her hind legs and then burst forward, running at a tremendous speed spurred on by urgency. 65 miles per hour was the suits upper limit and shook wildly being set to this maximum. This particular system was surely never intended for direct combat usage.

Ramming somepony like this was not something she even remotely desired to do, especially with the suit damaged this much already. That squeal from the joint sounded worse than ever as she stampeded straight at the monster ahead. That is all he was right now, a monster to stop. The only thought, she must try to protect her companions. The ones who only a few seconds ago attempted to aid and could be dead or dying at this very moment. The terrible pony, if that was at all what he could be described as in truth, did not anticipate this action.

He was quick and powerful, but surely even he would be no match for a pony sized chunk of steel hurtling towards him at this kind of movement rate? He made some kind of hissing surprised noise and did not have the time to react as he was slammed into by the horn-like magic apparatus followed by the rest of the suit. It was a strange sensation slamming into him. His cloak fluttered upwards and his hooves left the ground once more. The contact was terrible and horrifying and felt wrong like everything else about him. Here comes the pain.

Traveler headbutted him with such tremendous force behind it at this speed that he went bouncing off the ground through the air several times while wheezing in some odd way until his back smashed into the robot, his spine and multiple other bones clearly snapping with horrific crunching noises. Blood splattered from his muzzle upon the tremendous impact. As he was wrapped backwards around it, he then fell to faceplant directly into the ground. He lay there twitching disturbingly. That had to kill him. It had to. Nothing could survive that, surely.

He must die now. He must. She could only hope and tried to move.

“Ohh, my head. Nn. Did..did we...get him, Moonlight?” She was dizzy from that impact and the rush and pangs of muscles pushed too hard much too fast towards their extremes. Everything ached. The strain was too much. Not nearly so much as the first time accidentally using this system, but it was still terrifically taxing on the body. It was not something to use lightly, especially not like this. It left her ears ringing and heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Gasping for breath, she walked extremely cautiously towards this fallen enemy. It must have killed him? If that was not enough, what else could possibly stop him? The chakram was flung very far away when they met. Good. The screeching chakram sounded different, the shrieking wails almost sounded..relieved? There was something akin to purple mist shearing off the top and rising into the sky like a thick stream of smoke as if from some great uncontrollable blazing fire within. It was quickly becoming a heavy massive column of glittering purple clouds.

Traveler closed the distance to him, intending to stomp and crush his skull if he so much as rose an inch. It proved not to be necessary. Somehow though, he was still wheezing and twitching. How could he be alive after all of that? His face was visible now. His eyes were an off-putting clouded gray color like billowing smoke themselves. They did not move to track her. Was he, blind? How could any of this be? Blood trailed from his nostrils and mouth, though he was not yet dead it would not be too long. He was bleeding out. That was clear enough now.

All other firing and sounds stopped right when he dropped as well. Finally, the battle was over. She almost died again. Six times. Six times she’d nearly died in as many months.

“I didn’t want to kill you, I swear I didn’t. You gave me no choice!” Traveler told him solemnly. There was a deep hole right aside his heart where she’d pierced him deeply, just missing. He laughed raggedly, spitting up more blood in an increasing stream. How could he be laughing at this? The wheezing sound was rough and horrible to hear in its own way.

She’d actually killed somepony this time. Winning this fight did not feel good in any way. It was not a relief to see him lying there, dying. He tried to do the same to her, but..why did it feel so awful to see him like this? She could not feel happy about killing somepony, even if he tried to do the same. She could not. This was not fair. It was not right. Why did she have to do this? She never really wanted to kill anypony! Why..why…No.

“I didn’t want to! I’m sorry..” She felt pathetic saying this. Why did she feel sorry?

“Im....Im..possible...they said I was..unbeatable..save me..isn’t that what you promised me!? You promised to save me! That I would never..have to feel...Then why am I in so much pain!? CURSE YOU!” He gurgled and spat, his head lolled to the side. He was dead. What in the world was all that? Traveler stared at him in dumbfounded awe and amazement. She could not understand all this. What was he rambling about? As he died, the strange purple screaming mist almost sounded like joyous raucous laughter compared to before. Now what?

The smoke from the chakram dissipated and all the horrendous cacophony of wailing coming from it ceased. The weapon lay there glistening, it actually now looked absolutely shiny. It no longer inspired any feelings of fear or danger. This was too much. Traveler just sat in stunned silence for a few moments, unable to bring herself to move, staring at this crazed pony. He never spoke his name, what he wanted, or why he was trying to kill her or those following. Nothing at all really. This was so beyond any expectations it was difficult to even think.

His face was crisscrossed with slices and scars like he’d seen a thousand more such battles as this. What was worse, those sightless eyes were filled with tears. Tears exactly like all that she shed before. That hurt the most, Traveler knew that look. She’d seen it before on her father’s face when he died, but this time it was not punctuated with hope. Nothing. Nothing except an empty sadness was etched upon this powerful ponies face. What happened to him? Why did he do these horrible things? It might never be known now. He was dead.

Perhaps in shock, Traveler could not even bring herself to lift a hoof and check. They could all have been killed for all she knew, but that look on this fellow ponies face. It was the exact opposite of how her father looked. It was an expression that knew only pain and sorrow. For whatever reason he did this, what situation or dire circumstance eventually brought him to be this way, she could only feel pity towards the expression beneath those haunted dead eyes. Did it even matter what brought him to this? He was crying, and now among the dead.

Never having actually killed somepony before made it doubly rough. Her father did warn about the experience and said he could not prepare her for it if it ever happened. He was right. This was going to hurt for a long time. His eyes remained open, she reached in to gently close them. Friendly markers showed the others were running over. Thank Goodness. They all looked battered and frazzled, watching as she shut those strange eyes. What happened to each of them? She wanted to ask if they were all okay, but could not say anything just yet.

A long moment passed while the group stood in silence around her, sensing they should not interrupt for the time being. Finally, she stood and looked down at his cloaked figure.

“Rest, nameless one. I don’t know who you were or what drove you, but anyone could see you knew pain. Whatever caused so unbearably much of it to you, I am so very sorry you were brought to this end.” Was all she could manage and turned to find the group staring at her quietly. All looked exhausted and a sporting several minor injuries.

They were each a bit battered with some minor cuts and scrapes, but nothing that looked particularly serious. Gunnar appeared to have taken the brunt of it with a new gash across his chest to add to his already impressive look of being battle-worn.

“Sorry, everyone. I could not find a way to stop him any faster. I hope you’re alright.” She said, looking to each in turn. They were all alive and well. More than that could not be asked for. Gunnar grinned at her devilishly. He burst out laughing heartily, swishing his tail. Huh?

“Traveler, what is your deal? You are either completely out of your mind or a supreme strategist and tactician. Maybe all three. I can’t place which it is. Either way, I am thoroughly impressed once again.” He stretched those oddly hanging wings of his and looked towards the body. Traveler blushed a bit at that. She asked what happened to them. While not really thinking about it during the fight, she’d kept track of how many shots were fired. At least one full set from the shotgun and perhaps as many or more from the sniper rifle. What were they shooting?

Knowing they were still firing meant death hadn’t taken them. Gunnar may have been firing his strange pistols and Tanner his as well, but she did not hear either if they did. Perhaps the angle made it difficult to hear over the rest. She was rather occupied. Whatever happened was intense and damaging to all of them in some degree or other. Tasket looked to have taken the least damage. That unusual shotgun of hers must be rather good for keeping enemies at bay. Traveler thought she might inquire more about it later. Why did it have a name?

“Let’s talk about that later, we should bury him. Before you ask, it is a sign of respect towards an adversary to properly lay them to rest. It is also practical anyway. We should make camp soon and a dead body is not a pleasant thing to remain near for very long. I know.” It was clear he would insist on doing so as they set about picking a spot to bury the body. Some kind of satisfying form of exhaustion set in, but there was still this to be done. That was a weird way to feel right now. The oppressive surroundings felt exorcised of mounting pressure.

Gunnar was a strange one, but she really knew even less of griffons or their ways than ponies. It did seem like the right thing to do, at least with this one. If only she knew why it felt that way. Moonlight was now damaged further, not good. Without it she would have been dead six times over by now. Was this just meant to be her life going forward? Constantly on the edge of catastrophe? She hoped this would be, if not the last one, then one of very few more such encounters. Tasket always carried a very small shovel along, it would have to be sufficient.

Tasket took off her unusual looking armor which also appeared to have some new scratches and dents. Traveler was slowly becoming more curious what happened while she was squaring off with such an opponent. Each did take hits from something, but wasn’t he the only one? It was a somber affair. Hard work to dig a deep hole and inter the body. It was no easy effort after going through so much. Picking a spot off to the side at the bottom of the incline felt fitting. The unusual robot stood watch above on the hillside silently. What was that thing?

“Traveler, you are absolutely insane!.. I like that in a battle companion.” Gunnar must be kidding as he said that. He was kidding, right? She hoped so. He did seem to like her. Maybe it was his way of trying to lighten the solemn mood a little bit. This all felt terribly sad. As odd and terrifying as this all had been, the tears that were in his eyes when he died showed he really was just like them. The grave sat covered with a small bit of log and carved upon it only ‘Nameless One. May you find peace now.’ Collectively it was all any of them could think of.

It was appropriate. They knew of no real name and little else to tell. It didn’t matter. He was beaten and would trouble no one any further. This pony was strong in so many ways. Frighteningly so. Adding more strangeness to it all, his body seemed to be the expected weight. Not at all what it felt like during the intense fight. It was so incorrect. Bad and horrible and terrifying. Even now, buried deep below, this one just felt wrong. Entirely alien and improper somehow. It was as if the bounds of reality as she knew it were somehow shaky, undefined.

Permeable in some fashion far from being understood. What could possibly be happening around them? Was reality itself an enemy now as well? Was that possible?

“All of you..this..this is wrong. Everything about this is wrong. Everything. Every single thing. I know you are feeling the same thing. Feel the air around us like it was being invaded by some kind of sickness. Whatever happened here, whoever he was..I feel..just bad. Something about him makes me sad and awful and I just..” She slowed for a moment.

“This hurts so much. Who was he? What is going wrong here? I…” Traveler trailed off. They were all clearly a bit unnerved by everything involved in this fracas. It went down so fast. Interminable minutes in combat were in truth very short indeed. No more than seven whole minutes passed during their desperate bid to avoid dying so horribly at this seemingly impossible ponies will. Was he really some kind of monster? He looked like a pony, so scared and sad as he lay there dying, but why? Things felt better now, but they also felt worse.

“Anyway..what happened to you all? I heard shooting and popping or sizzling?” Traveler finally got to ask. Gunnar spoke first. For once even he looked terribly off guard.

“Both of my pistols are energy weapons that use magipack clips. I used up a hefty stack of ammo for all the good it did. Good thing I pack lots, but finding more could be a real problem. Not many left. We were attacked by something like a..copy of this pony. We don’t know. Tanner did pretty well. You both continue to surprise me.” He took a small drink from a bottle.

“Our shots either missed or he dodged, passed right through, or something. He..it, whatever he is or was, kept hitting us somehow. They were light, nearly insubstantial hoof contacts but as you can see they were far from having no force behind them. Over and over we saw things that didn’t happen as well. It was hard to deal with. I imagine something similar went on with those two.” Gunnar looked to Tisket who nodded somewhat forlornly and in grim countenance. He looked wiped as the rest of them. It was such a harsh thing.

What they all just went through was physically and mentally draining. All felt shaken and unnerved further by the events of the day. It was starting that slow drop into darkness that night brought, but the intangible confined feeling was gone along with the dead pony. What did he want and why did he do it? None could figure on a reason that made any real sense. He was not after their supplies or he could have easily taken off with them at any time during the fight. The nameless pony was no simple lunatic wanderer. Tisket continued the story.

“He was on us just as suddenly. Our shots never connected, like he knew where to move and when before we fired. No idea. He was just there. Tasket almost hit me when she shot at him. The pellets bounced off or twisted their path or something. She even battered him with Pepper there to try and keep him away. That really slowed him down for some reason. I don’t know why that worked. I was trying to switch between helping both of you. We needed to keep moving. I’ve never seen anything like it. Was he really in three places at once? Is that something magic can actually do?” He was distraught and quite obviously disturbed by the encounter.

They all were. Traveler decided they best rest before considering next moves. Retrieving their packs and the cart to circle up once more, Traveler turned her attention to the ancient immobile robot. It looked terribly damaged, old. Worn far beyond its lifetime. It clattered away. Moonlight still indicated friendly where it stood, motionless the entire time. Good.

“Uh, hello?” Traveler was still very cautious. She approached it alone as the others looked on from a distance. They were not getting too close without her okay.

The friendly marker remained, but she knew robots to be very dangerous. Having seen just how much power and huge threat they could represent left little room for doubt that this thing could still be serious trouble if it chose so. It reacted by speaking in a depthy mechanical tone that still felt like it held strength despite the outward appearance of absolute dysfunction. The whirling devices inside what served as what she guessed to be the machines head were very odd and the low continual clattering sounds were disconcerting. Scary. Dangerous.

It was definitely hit by bullets across the dome at some point in the past, causing scratching but no real damage there. The old robot must have been standing there a quarter way up this particular hilly incline for ages. The dome slowly rotated to what she gathered to be directly facing. It did not have eyes or what looked like them to speak of. A small circular ring around what would be the neck area slightly lit up each time it said anything.

“Allied pony forces experimental armor detected. State rank.” What? The endless low clunking and clicking was so unusual. That voice alone in some way demanded respect. Rank?

“Oh, it must mean like how Magnificent was a general in the army, I think. What should I say?” Traveler considered to herself. The group was not within earshot right now. She and Tanner decided to keep his secret for now. It was harmless anyway, wasn’t it?

“I..was with General Magnificent, but he is missing after a terrible fight with a very large battle robot called Pommel Horse.” At these words the dome spun slightly in a jerking motion which almost made her jump. She really was extremely jittery after all this.

“Rank established. Aide de camp. Commander, equestrian theatre of operations.” It stated coldly. Aid of what? What did all that mean? What happened to strand this impressive machine here? It also seemed like a sad thing. A relic of a grand past left to fade away slowly.

“What are you? Do you have a name?” Traveler asked. Could it answer questions like this? Only some of them could as far as she understood. It clacked internally.

“I am a model E-4 Radiological Operations Biochemical Observational Truncator. Designation: Robot.” It was a what now? That was a muzzleful and a bit weird sounding.

They named it Robot? Was that supposed to be a joke or something? Strange seeming. Was everything of the old world just weird and highly threatening?

“Were you helping this pony who attacked us?” It clicked and clattered some more as she questioned. From the start her markers showed friendly for both until later.

“Negative. Enemy combatant engaged in predatory practices.” Predatory? What kind of word was that? It was difficult to follow the language being used and a bit unclear.

It was somehow off compared to regular equestrian tongue but only ever so slightly, only just enough to make it hard to follow. Was this normal for these things? Why so strange?

“What are you doing out here then?” Traveler was relieved to hear this odd machine never had any intention of fighting even though it probably could not anyway in such a state.

“Unit attached to Delta Horse specops. Mission: Scout area. Provide safe troop path. None found. Mission: failed.” It’s dome turned slightly. Little of that made much sense to her.

If it were possible this ancient relic standing here almost sounded depressive. Impressively the area surrounding this thing looked even more dead than usual, quite a feat.

“How long have you been stuck like this?” She was genuinely curious and felt bad for it. Everypony with it must have died as they tried to escape or find safety back then.

“Internal workings became non-operational 187 years 6 months 14 days ago.” It clacked loudly as it finished speaking. What did whirling stuff in there do? So odd.

This wondrously miraculous thing crafted in times past stood here ever since? It was such a long time. Was it all alone for most of that? Stranded here with nothing to do and no one? This felt much like before at the grove. Only far worse. After much clicking and clacking the twitching dome on the robot slowly rotated to what Traveler judged to be looking directly at her, if that were possible. It was creepy. This machine certainly looked dangerous and impressive. Most of all dulled as it was, a deadly look graced this robot.

“Is it safe around here now?” She didn’t want whatever else might be present to kill them. This might be useful if it understood what she was asking.

“Sensory inputs detect no other allied pony forces. Indications: no enemy presence. Corridor contamination levels now minimal within span 13 miles wide by 24 miles forward from this location. Do not approach outer limits. Extreme magical output emanation southeast of current position deadly to all lifeforms. Input degradation reducing detection range. Local magical radiation index at safe levels. Toxin levels below safety thresholds.” It sounded good.

“I will call the others over, but do not speak about Magnificent. Only one of them knows who he is and I swore to keep it secret, alright?” Would it be able to understand all of what she said? It appeared to have at least some basic knowledge of the language as wonky as it was in speaking it. Did they speak something a bit different way back then or something?

“General engaged in covert action, directive accepted, commander.” That voice was so hefty, yet weak sounding in an unknown way. Commander? What did it mean by that? Strange.

She waved a hoof for the others to come over. The dome jerkily rotated towards each in turn. Each was a bit alarmed by this thing straight out of the old times.

“No further orders received. Robot engaged in mission failure analysis for one million five hundred twenty five thousand two hundred eighty four hours and counting.” It stated. This sounded horrifying to her. It was forced to stand here considering what went wrong for a million hours? That was just ludicrously rough. Surely even a machine did not deserve this?

So far so good. Now it was known a wide path forward for good distance and for certain was clear, and perhaps even further. It continued droning on in that lifeless voice.

“Unit disabled. Damage irreparable. Unit unable to engage self-termination module. Destroy unit.” The mechanical tone almost felt emotional. Was that possible? So many ifs.

“You..want us to destroy you? But why?” Traveler felt her heart sink and even worse upon hearing this. It was entirely unexpected as the rest. Why does it all hurt so much?

“Robot attempted self-destruct sequence seventy-five million times plus. Robot unable to prevent further civilian casualties. Enemy pony used construct as bait. Internal logic conclusion: Robot requests final termination.” It finished. This felt horribly sad somehow. This poor thing though just a machine intended to save others lives, could not ever do so even a single time? How horrible. This was not the type of situation Traveler ever imagined or thought to consider at length before. Her father never mentioned such a possibility either. Such hard choices always.

That was forgivable as it was likely not something he ever chanced to happen upon either. Some kind of intangible sadness settled over the group as they thought about what to do. Traveler made the decision with some tears in her eyes. The others looked on, clearly a little shaken as well by the idea of what this thing went through after being told everything.

“What must I do to terminate you?” Traveler asked. It was a confident choice. There was likely no way to fix this thing in such terrible condition anyway. So much pain.

“Access panel opening.” It was such a coldly mechanical voice but even that somehow sounded tinged with some untouchable sadness, if that were even possible. A clang from the side of it’s metal body was heard as a square sliding door popped open abruptly, revealing masses of wires, circuit boards and whatever else was hidden within the housing. They were colored and numbered with tags, likely protected from dirt and grime from being inside the housing. Traveler really didn’t want to do this, but it felt like the right thing and was asked for.

“Caution: spark battery core exposed. Destroy cabling in the following order. Red One, Green Four, Blue Five. Spark battery removal procedure, push down then pull enclosing bracket upwards.” It clicked and whirred, awaiting the approaching end of its existence. Some tinge of sadness and sorrow invaded her heart as she went to reach in and pull the wires out. There was just one other thing to say first. It must be said. Did these machines and things built back then ever get any consideration for what might happen to them eventually?

“I don’t know how much of what we say you truly understand or anything at all, but I have to say this before I destroy you. I do not know if things like you have a soul, I don’t even know if we do really. No one has ever told me. I feel and choose to believe you and I both have such a thing, and I’m ever so sorry you had to go through all of this. I cannot imagine what it was like for you, standing here all that time unable to act or do anything and being used to cause harm.” She took a deep breath as this old broken wreck clacked away.

“Most of all, I am so very sorry it took anypony so long to stop him and reach you. I don’t think you were abandoned. I wasn’t around way back then so I know nothing about what happened in the end, but I feel in my heart you are just too amazing to have been forgotten. For all of them, I apologize. Are you ready?” Traveler quivered after her little speech. This whole situation felt hurtful and she really meant all of it. Robot’s dome slowly turned all the way around before settling in what she imagined must be considered forward.

The rest of the group looked a little taken aback by her words, but definitely shared the sentiment. It was a consideration which weighed so much. Why did it all hurt like this?

“Unit..accepts. Standing ready.” Was there a pause in those cold mechanical words? It almost seemed like there was. It might have just been a little hitch from age or damage. Was it capable of truly understanding her words? This might have been simple imagination and hope. Traveler set about ripping off the wires in the order given. All the lights faded out to a dull sound.

A low kind of electrical groan was emitted as the final wire was torn out. Traveler sighed and gave out a little sort of sobbing whimper. That was pathetic, but she didn’t care right now.

“Why does everything about this hurt so much!? Grr.” She gave what really was a silly little growl and looked to her companions. Though still barely known to her, it felt like they’d been around forever. Yet, they would part somewhere ahead. That thought did not feel good.

“We should just rest now, Traveler. We can think about it later.” The big griffon was right.

They really needed a rest after that nonsensical battle. Who was this nameless apparition of a pony that nearly killed them all and so easily? He was ridiculously powerful. Did he have something to do with the endless fog they’d been marching through for weeks? It was already slowly dissipating. Was that just a coincidence? Did they just happen to be walking out of it when they ran into this apparent insanity? Most importantly, why did it feel all wrong even now? He was dead by her own hooves. He was trying to kill her, why did it have to hurt like this?

She kept to herself that night. It was difficult to sleep with all that churning in mind. Too much wrong. The very feeling of it all was somehow off. Even the fact she killed somepony did not feel correct here for some reason. There was really no choice, right? He was going to do the same thing to all of them and not even say why. Was it by choice? Could he have been acting under some other ponies control? That did not fit either. The feeling of it all being wrong would not fade. Finally, sleep took her. So peaceful. So grand to sleep. An escape from pain.

As usual Moonlight was left on guard. There was definitely nothing behind them of any consequence for many miles, at least nothing encountered. So tired she fell quickly into a sleep far deeper than known for a long time. A tormented and tortured slumber with empty shadows entreating her to come forward, flicking around just out of sight. Leading her to some distant land made of shadows itself. An arrayed host of sickness flooding over the whole of it. A welling up sense of disgust and repulsion growing rapidly inside as she approached. Illness.

Her father stood there in a bright meadow. Wait, what? Where was this?

“D..daddy?” His head lurched upwards in a horrible fashion as she screamed.

“Aaah!” She popped awake. It was what would be called dawn. Tanner and the others were cooking some kind of semblance of a breakfast out of whatever. They all looked over curiously at her suddenly jumping up yelping. What in the world kind of dream was that?

“Uh, nothing. Just a bad dream I guess.” She said. Why such a weird dream? Hmm.

“We did have a rather bad time yesterday. We should all just take it easy and slow today.” The old griffon was very pragmatic and wise to her. A couple prizes were won out of this. A working spark battery from within the robot which was possibly very valuable in multiple ways, and the strange weapon the pony wielded. It felt safe enough now. Traveler carefully packed it away in the cart. She’d never expected to wind up with such a thing. It was strange indeed. A thought came to mind after she ate and hop-stepped up in her suit.

“Hey uh, I was just wondering how you all feel about something. We have wound up with a couple things right here that might be worth a lot so.. how do you want to deal with that? Do you want to like try selling them to somepony and split what we get or what is your opinion on this?” She really did not have any idea how this kind of thing worked in any way. Her father may have understood more, but he’d been given no chance to let her see how these kinds of things were actually dealt with. Gunnar spoke up. He always came up with something to say.

“I don’t know how these two feel about it, but to me you beat him so it’s yours to do with what you will.” That sounded quite reasonable to her. Traveler looked to the brother and sister who both shrugged like they really didn’t care about it at all. Was that normal?

“What do you think, Tanner?” She queried. He looked down for a moment.

“I am with you to whatever end. Do what you want with the stuff.” Was all he said about it. That was very nice of them all. They could easily have wanted more out of the deal.

The large griffon looked at Moonlight. Even within the suit Traveler almost felt like he was looking beyond her somehow. That was both assuring and intimidating.

“Thanks for asking. I’ve known some that wouldn’t hesitate to just do whatever they felt like without any thought at all to those who helped them.” They all settled into a gentle walk. For at least the next six miles everything should be clear and safe according to the robot. She looked back where it now stood silently before moving on. Did she do something good here?

It was so hard to know sometimes. Feeling like horrible things were neverending did not help. This whole affair was miserable and disheartening. There was another side to this however. She felt more than ever that her desire to make at least something better in the world was not just a passing feeling she jumped to only because there was nothing else. This was far removed from thoughts of adventure or excitement. It was a true goal she aimed for. A fairly lofty one. All for her father's dying wish. There was no harm in trying to reach it, right?

It was a quiet but almost happy feeling moving forward now. The strange oppressive air dispelled. Was that pony behind it or was this all just imagination? Whatever strange things were going on were far beyond their understanding or ability to gauge and reconcile with reality. At least it was alright for now. It felt so good not to be pressed in upon from all sides by whatever oddity of atmosphere or will that hindered their journey for so long. Where would they end up? Would they all live through whatever was ahead? Traveler was lost in these thoughts.

As they walked, it occurred to her to ask a different question.

“Hey everyone, that fight hurt so much it got me thinking. I have told you what I’m after, but do you all understand why I am after it? Really understand? It might mean terrible risks to ever find it.” Traveler did not want her new companions hurt. Even seeing them injured a little bit felt like it hurt her as well. Was this what it felt like having others to care for? It felt good, but it also concerned her deeply about feeling this way.

She wanted no harm to come to any of them.

“Well, Traveler..” Gunnar went to say but she stopped him.

“Wait, before you answer. I will do whatever it takes. I want every one of you to know just how much this means to me. My father begged me to find and try to use the information in that book to start making the world a better place, so I will go after it with all I have. None of you have to help me if it means you die or get hurt, I don’t want that.” She let him continue.

For once the hefty griffon looked a little lost for words, just for a moment.

“Traveler, you have set yourself what might be a very hard to reach goal. Maybe harder than my own, so I understand. Now listen, we chose to tag along. If we fall because of that it is because of our own decision, not yours. Often things go wrong and there is nothing you can do about it, I’ve been there too many times to count. You just deal with it and move on. So, we will stick with you at least past your first stop as agreed, alright?” He sounded happy enough.

“No matter what? I don’t want to get any of you hurt worse, or killed.” Traveler was a bit disconcerted by the battle. They all could have died right there. Tisket interjected.

“Ah hay, I’m not afraid of dying at all, and what you say you’re trying to do sounds worthwhile! Something like..well..I’m all for it.” He kind of trailed off there for some reason. Traveler thought that was a little strange, but Tasket broke her thoughts. She appeared to be thinking deeply about this too.

“It sounds good to me as well. Just one thing. We must get the big guy here to his destination alive. No offense, Gunnar, or anything against your skills, but we have to protect you ahead of anyone else including ourselves or the captain would never forgive us. We will try our best to assist her but that has to be how it is.” She was blunt about it, but at least there was no doubt where they all stood. That sounded alright. It was her goal after all, not theirs. A very solid goal now. The griffon didn’t respond to that for whatever reason.

“I understand. I don’t expect you to get hurt for me, and just the few fights I’ve been through out here already have shown me how dangerous and deadly things can be. If you feel at any point going forward you must leave me to be safe, then I want you to go. Okay? I want you to promise me you will.” Traveler knew this could put her in a very bad situation at some point, but better her than them. She wanted to make the world better, not worse for others. They didn't have anything to do with this really. They looked back and forth to each other.

“If that is really how you want it, I promise. You don’t need to worry about us.” The griffon said. The siblings agreed. Good. There were still a great many miles ahead to wander through. Mostly blasted and dead lands with nary a soul to be found. Rarely, there would likely be something or somepony. Usually destitute or wandering as most others. A dangerous beast or creatures of some sort. At least, there should be. This land just seemed deader than the rest. Back to walking, and more walking. The long lulls in action almost felt barren in themselves.

Twenty-three miles later they finally halted for yet another night of camping in the wastes. Every half mile or so the damaged leg joint would give out a terrible squeal. There was for now utterly nothing any of them could do about it. In this condition the suits two minute stealth mode would be completely useless in any practical way except perhaps for an ambush. Not something she ever thought to do before. So far she’d been the one running into unwanted fights. All of this for a book? Traveler wondered if it was worthwhile, father certainly thought so.

Tanner took the first watch this night. Insofar as night was much different than daytime really. With the skies forever closed shut by whatever means the pegasi employed, it certainly left the whole world drab and dim even at the best of times. As the others drifted off to an easier sleep than usual, Traveler found herself reflecting on all that happened in the brief months since she found herself running from home. A home she felt some deep-seated longing for despite what happened there. In passing by, Tanner took note of her grim expression.

“Hey, are you really alright? I know things have been very bad..” He stepped up close and looked down on her, showing real concern. She tried to smile back up halfheartedly. He’d been with her for some time now, it was so nice that he actually cared.

“I feel..odd in my stomach thinking about where I came from..home..kind of..sick almost.” She found herself saying. It was a thick, poor and ill feeling welling up from deep inside when thinking about home and desiring to go back there.

“Oh I know what that is, they call it feeling homesick.” Tanner explained. Homesick? How did that work? Seeing the quizzical look on her face he continued.

“For a long time when I was a colt my parents did have a place we called home. It wasn’t anything special or nothing. Just a place where we did okay for a while. When given no choice but to leave, the further away we got the worse I felt. They told me that’s what this feeling is..” He trailed off. That sounded very sad. This also explained how she felt, but why did she feel so?

“I don’t even know if I want to go back there. It’s so confusing to feel like this. I just..my parents died there right in front of me and yet I..think I would like to return when everything is settled. If..when we find the book, what will you do? I don’t think you’ve said anything about that.” She was very curious to know what Tanner may have in mind past the fact of actually obtaining the book she was after. Did he have any further plans beyond that either? She never thought to ask him before. She’d tried to ask Magnificent once but he never really answered.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much. The rest of this might sound a bit bad. I came chasing after you because of him, you know. I do not want this to hurt you, but I would not have come looking for you in the first place. Besides that, I don’t think me being here matters at all. I haven’t made any difference.” Did he really just say that about himself? It was absolutely incorrect. There was no way, he was definitely useful. If not for him she would very likely have died when Down Range disappeared. What was he thinking? That was silly.

“Hey, that’s wrong. Why are you thinking like this? You already saved my life once. When you stopped me from making a huge mistake. I would have got myself hurt or wound up dead for sure if you hadn’t stopped me!” It was true. If he was not there she would've gone rushing straight into battle without thinking and likely been taken out right there. That she lived was solely due to him getting her moving away from the fight at the time. It seemed to click in his eyes. The dawning realization he truly was useful looked like it struck kind of hard.

“I know I kind of pushed myself between you two at first. I needed to do so, I just needed it, and I’ve really wanted to help since you told me what you’re actually trying to do. I never thought of doing anything besides surviving before and I think it feels good to try. I’m glad I can actually do something useful.” Oddly, he actually looked a bit sullen after telling her this.

“It’s alright, I’m glad we met you. I really didn’t know anyone else very well except mom and dad before. We lived so far away from anypony else.” She hesitated a little.

“I understand why we did now, but it was so lonely for me. I’m happy you joined us, thank you.” She managed a smile up at him as he nodded and walked on to continue his watch. It was very nice to have others she felt could be trusted looking out for her. Tanner sounded like he’d needed to be told he was useful. He really was. In the last fight he’d really shown he could hold his own if necessary as well. Now their little group was making some real headway towards her goal, hopefully. It would still be quite a bit of luck to happen to find the book on try one.

If not, then what? The griffons gave her at least six potential locations, one of which was so far away west on the rather incorrect map that she dare not consider having to go that distance until all other possibilities were exhausted. It would become more dangerous the further she must go to get it. This night was thankfully wholly dreamless and restful. She slowly awoke being gently prodded awake by Gunnar for her watch. It was so much easier to spread out watch times amongst them all, and not quite so boring. None left their weapons unattended.

Being ready to fight at a moments notice was definitely the thing to do. With their guns so close to hoof and talon one need only be awake enough to shoot without hitting the wrong target. This particular thing already happened to them once, but she’d still enough time to get into Moonlight. That might not go again in such a lucky way. Having figured out how to use the powerful armors defense tag did let her feel more at ease while sleeping. It was truly an amazing piece of machinery, perhaps something more. Always caution was advised.

Moonlight being so damaged was concerning. Would it make it through another battle? More? The motion of the damaged leg still felt smooth enough for now, but that squealing noise every once a while was becoming more and more worrisome. Would it hold together long enough to reach, retrieve, and return with the book? Traveler could not imagine being without her father’s precious gift now. She would have died so many times without it already. It took a beating for her on several occasions now where she simply would not have survived without it.

Her eyes opened, so it was time for her watch already? Must have dozed off gazing into the dimness of the night. It was alright, being surrounded by friendly faces made it so. How long would they be together? She wondered. Even past her objective their path would stay together for a while if what they were seeking proved to be not present or unobtainable for whatever reason. Yawning and stretching and taking a small drink before starting was the usual routine. She would eat breakfast with the others later. She’d taken to doing so for some time.

Slipping into this oddly friendly feeling armor she felt a strange shudder of familiarity. It was such a comfort to her nowadays. The armor was one of her only direct reminders of home. Why did it have to be this way? Moonlight should have stood neglected and forgotten under that old barn, not be taken into battle against unforgiving odds over and over. It wasn’t meant for any of this. Durable as it might be, this was never its intended role. The odd ways she was forced to use it twice now were far beyond anything she ever imagined before. Father should be here.

Traveler’s thoughts drifted over these things as she performed slow random wide circles around camp. Though she could simply have stood still and watched for hostile tags she recalled some things both her father and Down Range taught about tactics and fighting. Never fall into a pattern. Be unpredictable. These were quite sound advice and made a lot of sense, even more since setting out on this journey. It was actually far more dangerous roaming the wastes and wilds than was impressed upon her by both parents.

Why did it appear to be her fate to encounter the strangest ponies of all? The nameless one now buried far behind them still sent a shiver along her spine to even think about. Something more than strange was going on with that one. Only luck saved her. Did she really have so much luck? It did not at all feel so. Haunting dreams of odd apparitions and terrible things were persistent for some time now. It was nice to have a proper rest once again. The distance remaining counter was inexorably lowering as they carefully trudged forward.

72 more miles. Just that and maybe this would be almost over. Still a long way. They would find the almanac there whole and she would return to the base with Tanner, then head home. This was probably only a fantasy in her head. It being that easy was very highly unlikely. What was more plausible was that she and her newfound companions would run into something else terrible or destructive standing in their way once again. At least her watch was not as long while the others were around. That made it more bearable. It was usually so very boring.

How would she handle goodbyes? If by some miracle the book was found with ease and she went home, would she ever see any of them again? The thought of making precious friends only to leave them forever hurt a lot. Once they parted ways, Gunnar would certainly be gone permanently. She found herself really liking the old griffon. Why did he feel what he was doing to be necessary? Something about honor. How she saw it, that word seemed to have both positive and negative things associated with it. It sounded okay for the most part. She’d miss him.

“Why does everything have to hurt like this? Life doesn’t feel like it should be this way. It really is wrong feeling.” She thought to herself, meandering around camp. Everything was fine tonight for a change. No odd fog, no weird dreams or odd oppressiveness closing in on all sides. Just normal. What would be called normal anyway. In her heart she felt everything about the world was wrong. Nothing truly appeared or felt quite like it should be. Was this what came of the massive war so long ago? She could not imagine the scale even after being told about it.

Living through something is far different to imagining or explanation. She’d mostly fought one on one until now. Imagining thousands of ponies, zebra and other forces in staggered array all fighting their hardest against one another was heartrending and impossible to truly understand in scope. How did it ever come to such a thing between so many? Such a divide was difficult at best to comprehend. It was making her feel lightheaded from thinking on it so much. She understood a ridiculous amount of death happened back then. That was clear.

The why of it was something not even Down Range himself was quite able to put into words. In the end he didn’t truly know either. What kind of thing drove so many to bring such an epic catastrophe down on their own heads? Looking around sullenly out through Moonlights visor only confirmed that something tremendously horrible happened. The why and what was probably forever beyond her knowledge or likelihood to find out about. It was too huge in scope, too big to ever be fully understood. Perhaps even by the ones that caused it.

That idea was harmful in its own way. Did they know what kind of damage they were causing? She wondered. To have left it all burned and broken like this was maniacal at best. Did they let this happen, knowing full well what little they would leave behind? She hoped not. This must have been some huge mistake. It must be. Nopony could ever have truly wanted this? To leave the whole world a broken husk could not have been the idea of a sane pony, could it? No. Definitely not. It sounded like they were above it all, so why? The only question, why?

Traveler shook her head. It was pointless to make oneself sad over it now. According to Down Range the chronometer in his armor stated he’d been in stasis for 187 years. That could be wrong, he was not entirely certain. He’d said he was supposed to die back then along with everypony else is how he put it. His presence here was a mishap, a simple mistake. He’d hated living since the moment he stepped out of the pod until he met her. She’d given him an idea, a task, a reason to go on. She would not disappoint him even in his absence. Not a chance.

“He clearly loved his world and would have done anything to protect it, including giving his own life for others. I must be that certain of my own goal. I must.” Traveler thought. He was a guiding factor not just in her life, but in Tanner’s as well. Were it not for stumbling across an ancient comic his life would likely have ended before she ever met him. Already she could barely imagine this journey without him trailing behind. He was putting a lot of trust in her, something she truly wanted to live up to. It meant so much that he was still here.

Whatever else happened, Tanner was dependable. He proved that on more than one occasion. She could not really get that kind of gauge on the others yet. They knew how to fight together, that was obvious, but what did she really know about them? Far less than she knew of him and their currently missing companion. Where was he anyway? He must be alive, he must. Something inside just kept telling it was so. For now, he was gone and could not be expected to simply show up as much as she wished it so. Traveler was on her own to decide.

Within the next week or so they would be approaching the location of an old library, it might still stand. Why one would be so far off more beaten paths seemed strange even to her lacking understanding of how things were in the old days. The ponies before the war knew so very much. Down Range confirmed it through what few stories of his past she managed to prod out of him and the world back then. She wanted to know so much more. Naturally, he’d been hesitant to speak about it over guilty feelings of failing to save so many lives back then.

What lay ahead in the dark of day? She’d spent so much time in fear at night and hiding after that terrible time alone that some feeling of dread still sometimes took her when what little light of day faded to pitch. It was bad enough in the dull daytime. Something about the encroaching night gave her an odd chill now and then. Thankfully it was approaching morning once again, such as it was. With the others stirring, her eagerness to head onwards was growing once more. This was becoming exciting once again, not fearful or life-threatening.

Traveler took note that strong as she was, all her muscles felt looser and even stronger than when she first left home. It must be from all this walking. She did get breaks now and then to rest and recover, so it was just enough that their tone and strength improved greatly. She did feel less easily winded or short of stamina. The injury to her ribs and head some months ago were finally only bad memories. She’d been slowed greatly for a while after that happened. In all it just proved how vulnerable a pony really was compared to the vastness of the land.

She knew this land called Equestria was once bright and happy. That must have been an awe-inspiring sight to see. Down Range confirmed as much. Even imagining it ever being that way was beyond her, yet at some point it was. That was a very sad thing to consider. He must have hurt so much inside when he realized what happened to everypony he ever knew, and knowing he could do nothing to right it. Finding himself absolutely alone in a strange and unwelcoming place only to be set upon by monsters and terrible ponies alike. How horrible.

She left Moonlight on guard facing the most likely direction anything could possibly come from, it’s head slowly panning side to side. If she didn’t know better, it would be a terribly creepy sight. Instead she felt so very safe under its protection and watchful gaze. At first there was some fear it might fire upon her or her companions, this proved completely unfounded. Somehow, it knew. How it knew was a matter of possibly some consequence but did it mean anything anyway even if she did find out the how of it? It was on her side, that mattered most.

It was on her side, right? Traveler pushed these thoughts aside and settled down to breakfast with the others once again. As usual a fairly sparse affair. Water was a great deal more important than food. Without water even having food could mean nothing. They definitely carried plenty of that for the moment. It was a rather unusual prize to win after a terrible battle. It felt a little easier on the old cart as it was weighed down less the more they drank. It was nearly too much for the old thing as it was. That was becoming a real issue by now as well.

The rickety cart saw far better days. The left wheel was positively bowing out to the side, and one of the metal attachment points was slowly pulling its way out of the wooden portion it was anchored into. It would not last forever in this condition. If it should break right now they would be forced to ditch a great deal of their supplies. Even if they did not need it all, it could be useful to sell or trade with. To her mind, they probably required the majority of it. The siblings and their charge did have their own, but it was nice not worrying over parceling it out.

“Good morning. Hope you all slept well. I did for a change and it felt rather good.” Traveler said warmly to the group. They all agreed it was somehow easier to sleep since defeating that terrible pony. Was that just a coincidence? There was no real way to tell if he had anything to do with that. It was just good to get some real rest after feeling so hemmed in over such a long period. They felt more energetic since then. A great boost to confidence and capability as they prepared to head on for another day. Traveler felt, happy? Yes, that was it.

Out here, even after everything, with those surrounding her she felt happiness just being here. She did not always ask to share their food. There was still plenty of that terrible cereal that was supposed to taste like apples. Whatever it really was, it was very filling. Something must be kind of special about it. It ended any hunger very rapidly. Only on those days she could not stomach it and needed a break from the taste did she request others to share their foodstuffs. They didn’t really seem to notice. They did all try her cereal, once and only once.

“How do you even swallow that stuff? It makes me feel sick just thinking about that single mouthful you gave me. Bleh. What even is it anyway? It’s not like anything I ever heard of.” Tasket moaned. The rest positively giggled. It was a good time and memory to keep of the sickened expressions on each face as they tried it. Gunnar spoke up.

“No wonder the captain never offered it to anyone else. How you can down that stuff is bewildering, and I thought I was tough.” He grinned, or what passed for a grin on a griffon.

“There has to be something good about it. I started with nine boxes. I still have almost seven of them. I barely need to eat any and go like two days and a night without feeling hungry at all after.” Traveler made a point in saying so. There was a bit of wonder at that fact. How could it be? Did old world science really know so much more than any remembered?

“I once heard some old military rations were something like that. Never heard of this stuff though. Whatever it is. Thought it was just some talk about old world things.” Tisket mentioned.

None truly knew what military actually meant in truth, except that there were very dangerous places associated with them and that word. Whatever the real truth was, this stuff was excellent as a filler if nothing else. No one else wanted any of it. Traveler smirked at realizing the the griffon mercenary complimented her toughness. That was not something she ever expected to hear about herself. It was nice of him, and clearly not given lightly, not by him. It felt surprisingly good to hear. The others were speaking about their route forward from here.

Naturally, they kept to a straight line towards their destination wherever possible, occasionally interrupted by difficult terrain, hill, broken tree stands and whatever else lay toppled to land wherever it may. Debris from old dead forest or other things was often a detriment to forward movement necessitating finding ways around. Dragging the cart along contributed to this issue, but Traveler would not give it up easily. She really wanted to fix it properly. For the moment they jammed in some broken wood where the metal was detaching to hold it better.

Tasket was the one pulling along the cart today. Traveler wanted to put as little strain on the left hind joint as possible. That rare squeal was more prominent now when it happened. Not good at all. If it were to give out now would she be forced to abandon Moonlight to whatever fate? Whatever it took, that was to be avoided. If more fighting was ahead it might come down to the terrible decision to leave it behind. It was a terrible prospect thinking of leaving this amazing machine that brought her this far, and still held together despite multiple thrashings.

BANG! A terrible commotion somewhere off to their right started. It sounded something like gunfire, but not. Something about it did not ring quite right. What was that?

“What the?” Traveler and the others hit the ground just in case, leaving Tasket to unhitch herself from the cart bars and hit the dirt. Where was that coming from and what was it? A friendly tag flickered through the suit display. Huh? What was up with that? It happened before, but it was wrong. At least it appeared to be wrong. Was the suit really malfunctioning?

If it was not working correctly that could be a tremendously serious problem. How would she at all know? Traveler in truth knew little to nothing about how the armor actually worked or what everything actually was for. Even if she did, would it be possible to correct the problem? It was proving intermittent and potentially misleading or dangerous to assume it was correct all the time. So far it did not directly lead her to take a deadly action, but did that really mean anything? There was in reality no way to tell if this was a problem or not, not yet anyway.

Traveler cautiously surveyed the area. There did not look to be anything of note on the readouts or any warnings of danger. Was that gunfire or not? It was not aimed at them if it proved to be that. A radio beacon tag flicked in and out, but did not make any sound.

“Everyone, I think we are alright. That was not coming at us, but I don’t know what it is.” Traveler quickly told the others. This was rather strange. Wasn’t everything? The suit usually listed if anything of note was truly nearby. Perhaps it did not know everything after all?

“Should we go investigate?” Traveler asked of the group. Tanner did not look keen to do so, but would likely follow if she went. Tisket and Tasket did not seem to really be interested, asides from not getting shot. Unusually, Gunnar of them all stood and suggested they look. Why would he want to do that? It did not appear anything to do with them. He explained.

“Traveler.. If you really, really mean to do what you have said, then this kind of thing is what you need to head straight for.” He said quite directly. She’d noted he was like that.

Was he right? If it was her personal mission to improve the world, she should head right for danger and try to stop or fix whatever was wrong, but that could get her killed.

“I..think you are right, Gunnar. Making the world a better place must mean stopping bad things from happening. It’s just, If I die then I have also failed haven’t I?” This was conflicting for Traveler. What would he say to that? The grizzled old griffon looked to be contemplating.

“Everything is a risk, Traveler. If I were you, I’d rather fall than not try.” He said.

Those words proved somehow reassuring. An experienced fighter with an entire lifetime behind him was telling her this. It should be true. Unlike many that wandered the wastes, he’d lived a decently long time. His words must be worth something after managing such a thing? Her resolve emboldened, Traveler steadied herself to go look into whatever this loud din was.

“Okay. Let me go look. Stay here, everyone. I will back away if it is too dangerous.” She tried to sound sure and confident of herself. Was this really the right thing to do?

She stepped over the little earthen ridge while the others remained hunkered down where they stopped. Nothing was immediately visible asides more empty and vast rolling landscape in every direction. Yet again It struck just how little a pony really was against all of the world. Feeling this small was a very insecure emotion to let rise from inside.

“Steady now.” Traveler told herself. The armor was decently protective, if damaged. It would at the bare minimum let her survive most normal things thrown at it.

Too bad most things encountered to date were entirely, not, normal. Thoughts going over this meant that perhaps it could prove to be something normal for once, maybe. Her luck did not seem to precipitate running into such normality. Insane, dangerous, crazy, wrong. These were the things she fought and ran into since leaving home. Home, that place which almost was a distant memory already. How did memory of that fade so rapidly? It was still fresh in her mind, everything. Maybe it was just too much. Too much pain and too much wrong to handle.

“Why? Why is everywhere and everything like this? Mom and dad never said it was like this. They did say it was bad, but not this way, none of this is..right or normal from what they told me. I knew it was dangerous, even horrible, but not this way.” She walked towards where the noise was emanating from. Something almost sizzling and whirring in sound was coming from this direction. What could it be? The many things her father told about went careening through her mind. More robots? Another pony? Something worse? Something better? So many things.

Any of which could possibly be her end in this life. What did she believe? Previous experiences said, yes, it was okay to fail. It was possibly even okay to die. Was it really? Was there something? Nothing after that? Traveler could only believe what she felt.

“They never said anything about that, I don’t know what either of them thought about this kind of thing and I never got to ask. I was just a silly filly, I didn’t know I should ask about this stuff.” Traveler shook it from her head. Was this a time to be thinking about such things?

She was approaching the occasional sizzling popping sound. It was getting louder. It must be close. Obscured by natural debris maybe. There was a very large stand of ancient dead trees this way. They could be hiding quite a bit. Better be careful. Traveler approached the stand with great care and attention where she stepped. Trying to be quiet would be rather pointless at this time with that noise going on, it would hide most any sound she made anyway. What was this going to be? Hopefully it would not be life-threatening yet another time.

There was an odd tick-tick-ticka-tick sound on approach to whatever it was. The closer she got to the sound, the more it did sound like some type of shooting was going on. As she cleared the dead tree stand it opened out into a small unnatural looking space. There ahead were two boxlike structures swiveling left and right atop a huge concrete wall. Were they some kind of guns? She’d been told of turrets and how incredibly powerful and dangerous they were, was this some of them? The two sat atop some kind of concrete ledge overlooking a steep drop.

Curiosity almost won out over caution, but she caught herself and approached with due care. This was definitely odd, but it did not feel terrifying or horrible like many things during the last while. The two boxy things were definitely firing some type of bullet. It must be a low calibre, but it was in such ludicrously vast quantities. Where was it all coming from? Every few seconds the things would let off a large burst seemingly at random towards the distant horizon. Were they shooting at anything whatsoever? This was truly peculiar, and definitely dangerous.

At least these were not the ancient magitech cannons she knew also existed. Her marvelous armor as good it might be could not possibly withstand a direct hit from something of that magnitude. With these there was some measure of survivability should they prove dangerous towards her. Quite without warning the two structures began to turn right around in her direction, uh-oh. They trained on her location. Her only option if they began to fire would be quickly retreating back through the trees, awkward as that would be. They stopped?

An entirely mechanical voice was heard. It was extremely deep and timbred oddly.

“HALT. Identifying: Stable-Tec IFF confirmed. Access granted.” The huge square turrets turned away to continue seemingly randomly firing in the opposite direction down below. What the? Now what? Stable what now? IFF? Traveler called loudly to the others to come.

“What have we here? Are these more of those crazy old machines? Is it safe?” Tasket asked. none really knew. It appeared they were alright being close to Traveler at least.

There were long metal steps embedded into the face of the huge concrete wall leading downwards to land directly in front of a large steel door wide enough for a large group to pass through together. It was open wide and looked very rusted and damaged. Unused forever. Was this one of the old underground stables there were often rumors and talk of, but nopony ever really seemed to know about or locate? Could they really have chanced upon a potential treasure trove like that? Not entirely trusting that such luck existed, Traveler stepped inside.

Within the entryway she found there to be buzzing and ringing bells and swirling red lights. That felt like a bad sign. What could have gone on here? She looked back at her companions who were peeping in from the sides of the entrance. There didn’t seem to be anything dangerous at this moment anyway. Should they actually go in this place? It wasn’t really what they set out to do, but it was here and almost inviting them inside.

“Gunnar, should we bother going further in? We don’t have to do this.” Traveler asked.

“This is your choice. I said we would help you on your way. Just don’t get us all killed, alright?” Was he joking when he said that? It kind of sounded like it. What was up with him? She could never quite tell if he was being serious. In she went, leading ahead of the others in case of a problem. The entryway opened into some kind of machine shop. None of them quite knew what it really was, but nothing dangerous besides the external turrets were present. The stable, if this indeed was one appeared abandoned. It also proved to be immense beyond expression.

“Let me go bring the cart up top. Stay inside. I sort of think those guns only let us by because of my armor. I’ll only be a couple minutes.” Traveler hurried back outside and up to retrieve the cart. Just bringing it within range of the guns would probably be sufficient. This place was already extremely well hidden. It took a little while to weave it through all the husks of trees. Longer than expected. At least it would be quite safe. On the way she actually found another sloped path down instead of the stairs, allowing it to be brought right inside. Very good.

Their explorations began. The immediate area was buzzing with swirling lights and more buzzing. What did all that mean? It was such a large entranceway. There were several doors to the sides and forwards but otherwise did not look to be anything special. Just doors. Albeit very heavy doors made of the thickest metal she ever saw. They all hung open for some reason. That was definitely weird. One room was entirely made of what would be called reinforced glass. None of them knew what this was, only that it was crisscrossed and very thick.

That was a very strange room. How was glass actually made? None of them knew this either. Her missing companion might have been able to tell them, but she kept quiet about this idea. For the moment at least it didn’t matter much. He could not be asked when not present and she would continue to keep his secrets for now. What proved very odd about the room was a door very clearly leading in from the other side, but no controls to open it were obvious and no way they could find to reach it. There was no way around to do so. So unusual, but why?

The positioning and layout about all of this felt a whole lot of counterintuitive. That room enforced this idea further. Things just were more difficult than they should be to reach despite all the doors being wide open. Why were they all open like this anyway? That was a strange feeling. Every single door seen was open except for the unreachable one in the glass room. She thought to try breaking it down but thought better of it. What would it accomplish anyway? There was enough broken junk in the wastes already, why add to it by breaking more stuff?

“I have a strange feeling about this. The way all these doors face, and how everything is in here it almost feels to me like it was built to keep something in, not out. I don’t like it.” Could Gunnar be right about that? Was this more like some sort of prison? Something about it all was definitely out of the ordinary. Why would anything need something this vast to keep it inside? Maybe they were just misunderstanding whatever it was built for originally. There may be a clue to it inside somewhere. There may be useful weapons or materials inside as well. Maybe.

Her father once said what he was told about such places. They usually included at least some security lockers, so there was perhaps armor or who knew what else inside. Without a map or general understanding of stable construction it might be difficult or nearly impossible to navigate at first. Her armor mapping systems did a decent job of conveying a single direction, but did not appear to indicate up or down or abstract positions, instead relying on straight lines which could lead them under or above things instead of taking them to correct locations.

Was this a mistake? Going in here was quite a bit of a detour and possibly deadly. It did not feel as before. This felt more like real exploration than danger to her. It felt, more like the sort of adventure she used to feel a desire for all the time. Venturing into the unknown to find treasure or lost knowledge. The second thing she was already doing, but it felt like a duty which landed on her head and not the fun thing she used to imagine. This felt, exciting and..fun. Traveler realized this was how she felt right now about this. Perhaps it was a good thing.

“Oh this place is huge, we better be careful not to get lost in here. Let’s do this, place an obvious thing wherever we have been, pointing to the way back and exit. If this spot is any indication then this place is big, really really big.” Tisket mentioned.

“Did you just actually have a good idea, brother of mine?” Tasket joked. He looked at her with a dour expression in response. She was always saying things like that.

“Oh come on, I’m not that dumb.” Was his only response as he leaned close towards.

Traveler thought she saw something between them at that instant that gave her pause. Gunnar was inspecting a side doorway and wouldn’t have noticed what she thought was seen.

“Did, you two just kiss?” Traveler was surprised enough to ask out loud.

“What? Of course not. Don’t be silly.” Tasket said and lead her brother off to another door to carefully look around inside. What was that? Was she just imagining things? That was pretty odd. Couldn’t be. Maybe this was more taxing than she thought it would be after all.

“I hate to repeat myself, but everywhere we go I get the distinct impression this place was set up to keep something inside, not out.” Gunnar was unusually concerned about this, Traveler took that very seriously. Could this really be some kind of jail or something? There were no cages or entirely obvious reasons to think this, just a general feeling. The long halls and seemingly wrong way facing doors did give the impression someone, or some thing was being kept inside for whatever reason. Why was it this large? Could anyone need this much space?

“This place is so big. What was it all for? I’ve never heard of anything like it. I know there are old stories and all sort of nonsense said about stables, but this is ridiculous. It could take weeks just to explore all of it. Up to you, Traveler. Should we keep going? I’m not in a great hurry anyway.” Gunnar did indeed have the luxury of time. His destination likely meant his death anyway. The heavy griffon carried his energy pistols in a sling that sat tied across just in front of his hips so he could get them quickly at any time. It gave him an air of true confidence.

“If you’re alright with it, I want to explore at least for a while. I feel more excited than endangered by this. Do you feel that? The calm nothing? There is no awful or sick feeling in here. I don’t know about you, but I like that after what happened.” Traveler explained. He nodded towards her. A slight thunk-thunk-thunk sound was coming from a door ahead on the right, prompting a slow walk ahead to find out what it was. Now what? Peeking into the room there was something that looked familiar to Traveler. Spidery mechanical arms, but working.

Attached to the ceiling and sliding around on tracks and rails were multiple mechanical arms apparently digging into rock then transporting whatever they were taking out into various different barrels. Some odd machine with sparks flying out of it was making more tracks which it spit out and were then being attached to the ceiling by the arms to allow the arms to reach even further into the rock, allowing them to continue. They were making steel? No. Another bucket seemed to be having little slugs and some kind of powder filled up then dumped into a hole.

It was building bullets? What kind of place was this? Was that where the guns above were being fed so much ammunition from? Depending on how much material there was to be mined out from the ground around this place, the guns could potentially be fed forever. This was a revelation none of them expected. How much ammo was down there somewhere? Tonnes?

“This places makes me feel all shivery and weird. Knowing those things above can just keep shooting for who knows how long..how many have they killed?” Gunnar said out loud.

That was a terrible thought. Did they kill anypony? Wildlife or otherwise? Traveler felt that if she didn’t just happen to be wearing this suit they may all have been shot. Then again, they may not have come this way at all if not for her. This of course did not include the fact they would all likely be dead before now anyway if she hadn’t come along on her own quest for knowledge. The ammo being created here could be of great value, but did not fit their weapons. Very low calibre meant only the extreme volume of fire from the turrets presented any threat.

“Let’s find a quiet spot where we can rest and return to if we ever got separated or anything.” Traveler figured it would be good to have such a location, just in case. When Down Range went missing they didn’t have such a place determined so there was no clue what to do but press forward. She absolutely did not want to become separated from these new companions of hers after what happened with him. She’d missed him terribly ever since. Why was that really? In truth she’d barely got to know him either before he was gone.

It could be just that he’d practically volunteered to go with her. Tanner was another matter. He did come by his own choice and experienced some terrible moments with them as a result, but he was still here and following her. That meant a great deal. He put his life in danger remaining by her side. Traveler made sure he understood this quite bluntly before. It was a dangerous gamble they were taking going looking for a book that may not still exist in any capacity. The potential reward was incredibly huge, making it worth the effort and danger.

Some halls lead into places with obvious uses, such as a kitchen stacked high with plates and utensils. Nothing registered as dangerous. They replaced some of their own with the better looking ones hanging about on racks. Knives appeared to hang on a metal strip with nothing holding them. That was somewhat novel to all of them. Once an entirely mundane invention, it was only a heavily magnetized strip of metal to safely hold useful metal objects at the ready. To someone who’d never seen the effect before, quite something else to behold.

Awesome. There was nothing else of much use in here asides under one of the chef preparation stations an old box of that hideous sort of foodstuff rations it seemed were once in the possession of literally everyone. Why was that? Were they so scared at the time that the very thing which eventually happened, would? Could they have truly known what was coming or was it just some random occurrence? Traveler knew there was very little in the way of fresh or growing crops in the wasteland. It was her very mission to find a way of improving this.

The box still being sealed and clean in such an environment meant it would still be edible. How did they make this stuff? It tasted awful, almost as bad as her strange cereal. Almost. Something did have to be special about it as the way ponies kept living on it attested to. How much of it was made? How long could it really last? She only knew the great war ended nearly two hundred years ago. What that ending meant could not be guessed at. If a few boxes of seemingly invincible foodstuffs were all that came of it, that was terrible beyond words.

Traveler did know other things were created during and for the war. Terrible things. Weapons. Even her armor. What must it have been like before the horror and terror it brought? It sounded..wonderful. She’d kept her musings about it to herself. Inside her armor she felt a strange twinge in her gut thinking about it. It was not something she could quite bring herself to cry about. She only knew of it, not the true depth of what all was lost and did not experience those days. They were all but a legend now. A hopeful story that felt untrue somehow.

To no one in particular she spoke aloud as they wandered these amazing corridors.

“Ponies built all of this. How could they manage so much and just let it all become so dead and forgotten? It hurts me inside to see it this way.” She mused. Tasket laughed at that.

“Yeah, whatever. So what? We've been in a couple places sort of like this before. Nothing this big, but they all look kind of the same. Maybe they were special, maybe not but if this mess everywhere is all they could manage to leave then I’m not impressed.” She said.

“Not impressed, by all of this? Suppose you tell me how they built it all?” Gunnar chimed in and flicked his tail. Tasket was a little shy looking after that. That was a bit amusing.

“I only meant things are so dead everywhere. That is what we got left by our great ancestors? Just death and dirt? We all got ripped off don’t you think?” Tasket was clearly trying to be amicable. It was after all the siblings job to get him to his destination safely, which seemed contradictory all things considered.

“Listen, never speak too ill of the dead. They may deserve it or not. In this case we don’t know what they went through or faced. They may have been horrible but judging them when we have no idea is not right. Besides, they’re dead and we aren’t. That must mean something.” The old griffon seemed quite convinced of this. That sounded quite fair. Traveler never thought of it in that exact way before. He could be correct, they may not have the right to judge. All they knew is that horrible things happened. Nothing about the surrounding reasons why or how.

Traveler did want to say something since their missing friend actually did live through those times and could perhaps answer a little of what they were just pondering but thought better of it for now. Even he did not seem to fully grasp what all happened back then, which was its own concern. If even a mighty pony from way back then who was actually there did not know, how could they avoid something just as terrible or worse again?

“It will be getting dark outside, let’s stop here for the night.” Traveler halted and said.

It was as good a place as any to camp. They’d not run into any beds or similar thus far, they could be anywhere in this place. There must be a sleeping spot in such a large underground structure but without knowing where to go they could only stop where they were at. The somewhat pulsing flickering lights which somehow still glowed provided enough light on their own, though a bit dim. At least there were no alarms going off here. The red swirling sorts of lights were still present in places. She only knew that color meant trouble of some kind.

Whatever happened here was over many many years ago. The old halls were so sterile and empty for the most part. Many rooms did not appear to contain much of anything. Nothing of real note so far. Why so barren and empty? Did somepony else come through here before? It was improbable. The turrets would have deterred or destroyed almost anything trying to get past them. Traveler only guessed her suit was why the turrets let them in. She would have to ask the Down Range whenever they finally found him. Inside she still believed he was alive somewhere.

They settled in for the time being to partake in some water and to eat a little before resting. For safeties sake they kept a watch as usual. Just because they were surrounded by metal, rock and stone here, did not mean they were alone within. The guns may be keeping something out, but the feeling of this place actually being meant to keep things in, so pervasive. All of the doors save one were unlocked as they’d passed by which ran counter to the feeling. Did something terrible once happen here? It might be better not to find out if that was true.

The downtime without horrible incidents was nice for certain. It gave a chance to unwind and destress. Exploring this buried place was a much needed distraction. A little frightening in its own way, but not like the other horrible things were. In here at least so far none of their lives were put in any kind of danger. Whatever might be further within could prove just as dangerous or more, but this was really a welcome change of pace. Traveler did not want to waste supplies or anything, this was merely something she needed to do at this time. How time flew.

A few days passed in this stable or whatever it was. Only one or two really interesting things came to their attention besides the endlessly running manufacturing station. She understood there must be a kind of power core here somewhere. A spark reactor it was called if she was remembering right. Unusually there were no terminals of any kind in this unusual place. Prison or otherwise that was understood to be quite odd. Other than the lights and mechanical arms there was little to no other equipment at all of any sort. This struck as unusual too.

There were sinks with running water! It must be coming from somewhere. A shower room was discovered they all made use of. It seemed limitless. This bit of info could be useful at a later time if she needed to restock on the way back. Wait. Would she ever be going back that way? There might be no need. Going this way was solely to check out a single possible location of the book she was so desperately seeking. Going back to the little base may never be required. She did like the captain there. He seemed very nice despite how he looked.

Traveler did not yet encounter any of the other sorts of things she was told did exist in the world. Dragons and yaks, bison, minotaurs and all manner of other things she’d never actually seen, they might all be dead. Perhaps far more good and bad. Did any of those things still wander the world unseen? It was possible she may never encounter any, or all of them. This was solely a thing luck would play a role in either way. It might be better not to run into anything else at all. Her adventures so far were rife with real danger and awful things happening.

These were not the adventures she once longed for. Not quite. How many more times might she escape death? The end of her life could very well come tomorrow, or this evening depending on what lay ahead. She was surprisingly okay with that. Already having been fully expecting to die more than once made it easier to accept it may happen. Previous experiences said it would be alright, but was this true? It was an uncertain quantity, merely tempered by the hope and expectation there might be something more. She decided to ask about this.

Walking down another bland hallway felt like as good a time as any.

“I know I haven’t really known any of you all that long really. Long enough that I hope it’s alright to ask this, and you don’t have to answer. I just..are you alright with dying, Gunnar?” Traveler asked cautiously, not knowing what to expect of his reaction to such a question. Now that she said it it felt kind of overly personal. How would he react to being asked something so deeply a part of oneself?

“Right to the point, huh? I respect that so I will answer you truthfully. I am absolutely scared out of my head to die.” He turned to look directly at her. He was scared of it? He’d never so much as flinched before, scared of dying? How could that be? Him, scared?

“I can tell you find this surprising, and I guess I can understand why. I have been in battle so many times before. You get used to things going wrong. Even accept you can die badly. We all will die eventually. Someday. Somehow. It still scares me.” He paused a second.

“I have just lived my life mostly the way I wanted to. Sometimes that didn’t always work out, but it was mine and I actually enjoyed a lot of that. Some of the bad parts too. I think enjoying what you like is really important. What point is there in worrying about dying when it is definitely going to happen anyway? There is no way to stop that so why waste time worrying about it?” Gunnar must have thought about this a lot more than any of them were expecting. The siblings looked a bit stunned themselves at this revelation about him.

“I could never imagine a tough guy like you being scared. I don’t know what to say.” Tisket chimed in. It was quite a shock to them all really. Not at all what Traveler was imagining he might say before asking. What was she really expecting of asking this anyway?

“Thank you for telling all this. I just wanted to know if someone else got scared about it. I think I am. I think I’m okay about it but it still frightens me. Makes me feel a bit silly I guess. If it’s alright why am I scared? I don’t know.” Traveler couldn’t think of much else to say towards it.

“Well, we don’t exactly live in a safe place. All we can do is go on with our lives, right?” Tasket quietly mentioned. This question seemed to have hit her a little hard.

“Is it okay I asked you this? I didn’t want to intrude or anything.” Traveler was still so unsure about how such things were between other ponies and conducted.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s something I will be facing soon enough I suppose. So, I best not hide it from myself.” Gunnar looked deep in thought as they walked on after that.

Signs along the halls stated this was level 6. Did this place go on forever down into the ground? They could not continue to explore it for eternity. At least there was no danger of running out of water here. For some inexplicable reason on every level were sinks.

“How far do you really want to go? I am very curious about it all myself now, and it’s nice to be all cozy here. Something is just the slightest bit wrong. Everywhere we go it feels that bit more difficult to get back out of.” The heavy old griffon was right on about that oddness.

“If it starts getting dangerous or taking too long we will head back out. I kind of like it here, feels safe somehow. I know it probably isn’t. Let’s just look a bit more, alright?” Traveler found she very much wanted to know what this place really was for. There must be something. What if there was nothing? Nothing at all in a place like this? What was the chance of that? It could not be like that? The siblings did not seem to care either way so long as Gunnar agreed. He just nodded and moved ahead. This place was so dead, yet felt so lively somehow.

What was it that made such a feeling assert itself? Nowhere she’d ever been except perhaps for home quite felt this way. Not that this felt anything like home. For such a long period they’d been mired in a feeling of incorrectness surrounding them. All felt it. This was different, better. It felt, normal. It was a disconcerting feeling in itself not having ever been really felt before. They all reached the same conclusion at the same instant. Safe and normal?

“This place, what is wrong with it? It feels a little..too safe here.” Gunnar commented.

“I was just gonna say something like that.” Tasket also looked wary. If this really was some kind of prison, why was every single door left wide open? The whole concept of the layout felt intended to keep things inside and became ever more difficult to backtrack from once entered despite all doors sitting inexplicably open.

“This whole place is like..dead. Or empty. There is a whole lot of nothing in here. Look at it, it’s as if no one was ever here to begin with. There is nothing.” Tisket said to no one really.

“This is the exact opposite of before, isn’t it? You feel it, right? All of you? It feels, welcoming. Inviting us in further and further. My gut keeps trying to say this is some kind of trap, but it feels so nice here.” Gunnar clawed at one of the side walls to mark it. That remark made each of them shiver. If the big guy was getting nervous there might be something to it.

“I believe you. It’s like this place goes on forever, but there is nothing in it. Maybe we should head back up to the showers at least.” Traveler pointed back the way they’d come.

It felt defeating. Was there really nothing here? Was there ever? Some strange quirk of fate or history left this place strangely barren. He seemed to notice her slight hesitance.

“Hold up, this is a decision for you. I am not telling you we have to turn back. This is a warning. We could be heading straight into something just terrible, but I stick by what I said before about you. If there is something bad down here, then you should confront it head on.” The griffon looked off resolutely down another hall. He looked quite regal despite being grizzled.

He was right about that. It was always her choice to investigate this place, and could be backed out of at any time if she felt it the right thing to do. Being in a place where she made decisions for others as well still felt awkward for Traveler. Home was so far away now. Where she never needed to make such weighty choices until the very day of being driven away.

“We will continue. We have lots of supplies and know the way back. If we need to we can run straight for the upper levels.” Traveler made her heavy choice. It weighed so much.

The decision made, they continued their careful exploration. Nothing of any real danger ever presented itself. For the moment this decision was not proving to be a bad one, merely one which consumed time. Lots of time. Of all things they finally happened upon a room with many beds, made up and looking like they were barely used. Amazing. This was a good place to rest after a long day wandering. The ever present lighting meant they only needed to stop for rest when it was greatly required. Though it was taking a long time, it was actually very rapid really.

Level 8 was marked on the wall. Finding stairs down to another level was always novel as it meant something new, or possibly new. The layout of the floors was increasingly complex. The open doors left in this position everywhere was getting creepy. One or two would make some sense, but nearly every single door was wide open. Was there some grand rush to leave this hole in the ground? Why? There were no clues, just the occasional swirling red lights. That always gave the impression that something was amiss, somewhere, but what?

Eight stories into the ground. Did it really just continue on below forever? Finding a bunkroom at least broke up the unusual monotony of this. It really was the opposite of before. Whereas it always felt dangerous surrounded by that strange fog, this always felt much too safe. They would use the room as a fallback point. Once they knew a rooms location and marked it the time to get back to it was cut in half. Traveler thought they could probably go back to the surface relatively quickly. They’d decided to close doors they thought were pointless left open.

This way when they did return it would be very obvious where to go asides their directional marks on the walls. Each level was found to have similar features such as a single closet with a broom and mop in it. This seemed practical, almost a little silly. This place was so clean and empty otherwise. Each floor did have more of those swirling red dangerous looking lights. It was understood by Traveler those meant danger somehow. Did even her father ever have an idea what this kind of place might be for or what purpose it might serve?

“I thought of something. What if all these doors are open because everybody left at the same time? That makes some sense, right?” Traveler surmised a little. The others looks at hearing this thought were rather a bit disheartening.

“Don’t like the sound of that. If everypony ran off there must have been a really good reason, right? They knew what they were doing?” Those two looked kind of spooked now. Was what she said that scary? Tanner was quiet so much of the time it surprised to hear him speak.

“Knew what they were doing? Hahahaha. What about anything left in this world says they knew anything like that?” It was jolting to hear him say such a thing and laugh so deeply about it. Something regarding that awful thought rang of truth in some way. Traveler came up with similar thoughts before but never quite put them into words, at least none said to another. Did they really know what they were doing? If they did, why were things so bad and awful now? If they knew how to make a wondrous place like this, how could it come to be like this?

“Gee, thanks for that, Tanner. Now I feel real good.” Tasket halted, telling them to stop.

“What is it, sis?” Tisket unslung his scoped rifle and looked down the hall ahead.

“I see a big door way down at the end, and something looks different about it. It’s painted red and there is a big black X marked across it..There..there is also a pony skeleton crushed in between under the door.” He reported to them. There was a what? If ponies died here then there really likely was a good reason it was abandoned. Traveler chose to go on ahead.

The suit displays finally showed a flicker of something hostile. A dim red bar directly ahead that vanished. Something bad was in there, separated by a door. The closer she got a very distant small clattering sound could be made out, like a rapping knock was banging off the walls behind. This door was closed in such a hurry it killed somepony? Was this worth pursuing further? Should they just turn around and leave this place which now felt far more intimidating and deadly? She steeled herself and strode towards the door. She was not alone.

There were friends behind that would stand firmly with her whatever choice was made now, she believed this. Turn back? No. Upon closer inspection she could see the poor pony themself closed the door by reaching at the controls. Whoever it was had been so desperate she or he killed themself trying to lock something within. Did a deadly thing await her once again somewhere behind this door? No point putting it off. She raised her armored hoof to the control panel and hit the open button. Bedlam awaited as the large door slid into the wall.

The poor crushed pony skeleton was at last freed from beneath the door as it scuttled up against the wall. The shattered bones were disturbing. Many more awaited within.

“I’m so sorry, whoever you were.” Traveler stepped past into a static scene of destruction. Overturned desks and all manner of other debris lay about. Whatever happened here was violent and deadly in the extreme. Here and there in offices and side areas were dead ponies, and others. Even a few griffon skeletons were within. This scene was sickening.

“Easy, now.” She told herself and moved in very slowly. This was not a battle, this was some kind of slaughter right here. There was dried blood everywhere. What happened? Traveler felt herself shivering in anticipation as she walked in. The contrast to the rest of this entirely sterile place was striking and jarring in the excess of extremes. It was so clean and unused everywhere else they explored so far, to walk into this was like being hit by a wall of fear made real. Taking a deep breath she moved forward, looking around slowly. Check everywhere.

This was a scene of horror unlike anything seen to date. Streaks of old blood were scattered here and there. What were they doing in this weird room? It looked like some horrible monster was set loose upon them. There was evidence of shots having been fired laying among skeletons of various sorts. Some she could not place. Larger than ponies or griffons, some did not even look quite right to her. That in itself was odd, yet this was the feeling. Shattered glass and smashed desks lay overturned throughout the place. A total mess.

What did all of this? The room was positively shattered in every conceivable way. It even appeared the huge door was dented outwards somewhat. What could possibly have hit a door so large this hard, and from the inside? The others were moving in behind, covering to the sides. Nothing was leaping out of the shadows to attack them. Only bones. This almost felt incorrect in view of the carnage this room presented. Sometime far back in the past there was a massive battle here they did not know the nature of. This was terrifying, exciting.

Exciting? She thought to herself. Was it really? This did look absolutely awful, but she still felt alright about this on some level. Why was that? Ah, that was it. Yes, a fight took place here, but it was waged with normal weapons. Not some insane whining spinning weapon that felt like death itself took flight. Only bullets. For lack of a better way to describe it Traveler thought this felt almost normal. Some of the formerly living griffons were clearly using knives or other completely mundane weaponry before they fell. Only one thing stood out.

All the bones were stripped so clean as to be whitened. That was rather unnerving.

“Whatever happened here these guys were fighting hard. Incredibly hard, I can tell. What I can’t tell is whether it was each other or something else, or what any of those things are. Never seen any bones like those before.” Gunnar waved a talon at the larger skeletons. Some unusual features about them almost seemed to suggest having several horns or walking in a very odd manner. This whole scene was enough to make anyone feel skittish and wary.

Inching their way forward for mutual protection the distinct impression was that whatever happened here was so long ago it might not matter at all. If anything was really locked in this place it would have died long ago wouldn’t it? Each came to this thought on their own. No. Wait.

“Hold it.” Traveler motioned for them to hold their position. There was another heavy door at the other end. The flickering fritzing lights here added an element of dangerous feeling. Finally having found these things of real interest she decided to continue moving forward.

“I’m going to open the next door. Watch yourselves.” Traveler said without realizing she’d been over time taking a slightly more authoritative approach. They’d been wandering this place for long enough without finding anything remotely interesting that this was a whole new and novel experience. As before, this door looked a bit damaged but so thick it really made no difference to the integrity of the whole. She pushed a hoof at the button and it whooshed open with a heavy clunking sound. Peering into the dimly lit area revealed the same carnage.

There were many more long since dead ponies and other skeletons strewn all over. This was crazy. So many were wearing ripped and torn clothing of various types. A great deal seemed to have been wearing some kind of blue and yellow coverall. Just as many previously wore white coats. None of them knew they would be called lab coats. All carried one distinct feature. Dried blood where their clothes were shredded or torn from them. Bullet casings positively littered the floor. She stepped into the room. This was in some way more organized.

Desks were overturned as makeshift barricades facing in one general direction. Over head a turret once pointing that way as well hung uselessly off a mass of wires and cabling with huge scrapes and gouges along the casing. It was scorched and black like it was burnt from inside. Some of the skeletons still wore destroyed patched types of light armor like they were desperately kept in workable condition much too long before dying where they lay.

“Traveler..” Tasket went to say but she held up a hoof. It was obvious.

“I know.” Traveler and the others noticed at the same time. These griffons and ponies of all sorts were definitely fighting something else in here. It was not obviously whatever the large beastly looking skeletons were or something else. They were not by any means huge, just a bit larger and definitely bulkier enough to notice. The pony that closed a door on themself before was clearly trying to keep something very dangerous inside and succeeded at the cost of their own life. What danger could have been so deadly it was worth killing themself?

What was worse, this door looked closed just as purposefully. Did everyone here sacrifice themself? So far there were no real clues to this perplexing puzzle. If something was truly enough of a threat to lock themselves inside with it rather than be out they should perhaps consider leaving. Right now.

“What do you think? We've come this far but now I wonder if we should close these doors and never look back.” Traveler asked. They all looked to each other.

The old griffon coughed. Was that an attention cough or a real one?

“Right when I’m starting to have a little fun?” The rest looked at him kind of agape. Fun?

“Don’t get me wrong. I see lot of my kind died here. I’d like to find out why. They all went down fighting, and that deserves to be honored.” He said matter-of-factly. Traveler wondered if she should refuse to continue, but she was the one that brought them down here to begin with. Would they think less of her is she opted to back out now? She didn’t try to find out.

“If you say so.” She replied. The decision was done, she moved in the direction the turret once pointed. Was this the right thing to do? He wasn’t insisting, but she did not want to do anything that might make them dislike her. This hall was not much different than the other halls in this place asides from the obvious battle damage. There were scorch and bullet marks all over the place. The turret when functional must have positively scoured this area with a large spread of bullets, but why? There was nothing laying where the bullets were fired at all angles.

If something absorbed that much firepower and still broke out of here it must be terrible indeed. Some awful thing happened here. That strange sort of distant rapping sound could still just be made out, like a dull thud that shuddered at a steady slow pace. It was growing louder in the direction the turret was once firing many years ago. What were they all trying to hold back? Even the bigger skeletons did not appear to have been some unstoppable force, almost just as many of them lay dead on the flooring. How many were there? Hundreds? Thousands?

The disturbingly white bones provided little clue. They must have been picked clean by something in here. Maybe just pests that eventually starved. Traveler turned to the others.

“Alright, but if we’re really going forward I think we should close these doors. Both of them. I think it’s pretty obvious by now they were trying to keep something from leaving. Okay?” She hoped that did not sound too presumptuous or stupid to them.

“I agree. Close it.” Gunnar was strangely quick to respond.

“But wait, what if the doors won’t open again!?” Tasket shot back. He looked her right in the eyes with a steeled gazed from which she nearly recoiled, but held her ground.

“It worked once. We all know there are enough horrible things out in the wasteland already. I am curious, not stupid. I won’t add to that even if it does mean I die in here instead of where I intend. I’m sure both the living and dead would forgive me for looking into this. Leave if you want and wait above for a few days at most.” The two siblings looked rather shocked.

“Give us three days. If we don’t come back by then tell him the full story. If I die by my own decision you are released from your contract and you get full pay. Cap will understand.” He explained and offered. The looked back and forth to each other for a moment, concerned.

“We..no. We won’t back out now. What do you think we are, cowardly?” Tisket and Tasket agreed to remain and closed the doors. They noted on this side of the door writ large were the words ‘Containment lab level 3’ Whatever that meant.

The swirling red lights still lent an air that things were not right in this place. They were not entirely aware these were emergency warning lights, never having encountered them before. Asides from the preponderance of skeletons belonging to possibly more than one unidentifiable race or entirely different species, in many cases they could not even tell bones apart as they were locked in such violent mortal combat and died atop each other in droves. Some were obviously ponies who wore some kind of off-white uniform. Now all bloodstained.

Upon some even still were barely legible name tags on the front. A few more wore long since ruined light to medium armor. The weapons strewn about were just as useless, damaged beyond any possibility of repair or salvage. Whatever happened here was violent as it could get. The evidence of battle was everywhere throughout the rooms on this floor. The pony at the outer door sacrificed themself to prevent whatever was in here from escaping. It appeared to have worked. Did the rest do the same or simply get caught up in the situation?

The scale of fighting here defied understanding. Looking at it instilled little as to the real size of it all. They could not believe their eyes walking past, careful not to unnecessarily disturb the dead. There were so many. There could be thousands upon thousands of skeletons here.

“This is sickening. So many dead. I have never seen such a thing in all my days.” The old griffon was definitely upset by this. There were a great many griffons along with the rest. He said they were known for being terrific fighters. If they fell in these kinds of numbers, it was bad.

Some terrific terror stalked these halls long ago, maybe still. This was not quite the sort of exploration Traveler anticipated, but it was certainly enough to get the heart racing. Each and every little shadow felt its own potential to spring at them any moment as if biding their time for the perfect opportunity to do so. Or maybe they would find nothing more. Would that be terribly disappointing? She wondered. Would it be better to find nothing at all? After it was said and done, some things might be better off not known to any, she considered.

As they hoofed and padded along these long abandoned depths left to the dead the worry and anticipation of a fight was certainly first and foremost on their minds. A vague dread tinged with excitement in the pit of the stomach. So far they found only the silence of this enormous grave. That was a problem in itself. Occasionally they did have to move bones or entire skeletons out of the way to pass through more doors or proceed ahead. One door was of particular concern where a dreadful firefight must have taken place, possibly lasting for days.

So much spent ammunition everywhere. This was approaching the level of absurdity usually reserved for some kind of joke. Whatever this joke might be did not seem to have a punchline discernible. It was ludicrous. The amount of death and destruction here was so far beyond reason all of them came to the conclusion it was absolutely ridiculous. There must be at least hundreds amongst the dead just right here, perhaps more. As before this place was labyrinthine. The same caution as before was used in marking a return path.

Not marking a clear way back would invite disaster. How did the former occupants ever find their way around this maze of doors, corridors, and hallways? That was a good question. Whatever the answer was would not be forthcoming. The dull thud grew heavier and louder, closer sounding now. They’d been exploring nearly six whole hours today to get here. The size of this place was as ridiculous as the rest of the situation. Sound echoed a lot and went very far.

“Hold up. We cannot go any further right now, we must rest.” Traveler halted.

Going into what might turn into a fight without resting now would just be asking for more trouble. It would not be very comfortable but at least the area in this room was thankfully clear of skeletons or anything untowards looking. Both ways in could easily be watched. Only one of them would have to stay up on watch at a time thanks to this. Moonlight was set to guard the opposing doorway as Tanner took the first. Gunnar looked very agitated, almost sickly.

“Hey, I think you need to relax big guy.” Traveler said to him, worried about the look.

“Yeah..yeah..I’m alright. Really. Thanks.” He said just a little more sharply than usual and went to lay down. That was a little odd to her.

“Are you sure? You don’t look so well.” She asked, really worried about him.

“I’m fine.” He sort of snapped a bit at her and closed his eyes. Whoa. Did she do something wrong? She only wanted to help. She’d never really had anyone do that towards her before. It kind of hurt. Was he just upset? That was maybe understandable given the situation.

Relax. Breathe. Traveler told herself. He is okay. They should all be upset seeing all this really. So many that died here it was almost impossible to really take it all in. She lay down as best could be managed on a floor. Rest was needed. Father said always ensure you get enough. She fell asleep rapidly. Warm here. So warm. It is so warm and comfy. She opened her eyes to see the sickeningly decaying form of her mother about to pounce. Not again.

Traveler jolted awake for real, somehow managing not to scream. Ugh. Why?

She did sleep quite well until that moment. What was that? This place must be getting to her more than expected or figured. Was nothing ever just normal? What was normal anyway? Was there a normal? The others were sitting around talking quietly. Moonlight still panned it’s head side to side slowly as usual. It became a routine sight so quickly that she almost forgot it was not a living thing, yet that odd friendly feeling it exuded was always there. It could not be alive in some way could it? What was she thinking? That was a truly silly thing to think, right?

Tanner noticed her waking and approached. Something seemed a bit out of place.

“Everything okay?” He was genuinely interested in her well-being. That felt so nice.

“I think so. Just this place I suppose.” She got on her hooves and shook off the leftover sleepiness. They’d brought only enough food and water with them to last a few days down here without coming across other supplies so would have to press on quickly and return above. The continual light thudding noise in the direction Moonlight observed was ever-present.

“Everybody ready to head on?” They were prepared as they would ever be to confront whatever awaited ahead. The old griffon looked a little shaken still. It was not a look that sat on him well. Should she ask? Make a decision mare, she scolded herself. Do it.

“Gunnar, you don’t look well and before you say anything, I mean it. You look really sick to me.” Traveler went straight to it. He almost looked like he puffed up a bit. Sorta funny. Almost.

“Alright, alright. So I don’t quite feel at my best, I am fine.” He answered firmly.

Traveler knew it. He hadn’t looked or sounded quite right for a while now and last night proved it when he snapped. He never really did before. Why didn’t he say something sooner? Her father once mentioned a problem with exactly this kind of situation. She felt compelled to mention it. He was definitely fairly ill. That could prove a disadvantage or dangerous.

“I know you know better than this. You should have told us. We could be facing who knows what in here and you not being at full strength could be a problem.” Traveler said sternly.

To her and the others surprise that actually elicited a hearty laugh out of the old fellow. Huh? He took stock of them all gazing at him in wonderment and explained himself.

“For someone so young you sound just like the captain. I like that. Yes, I admit it. This was quite stupid of me. I apologize, and I mean it. I was just so eager to find out. I will inform you of anything going forward from now on. All of you.” That was almost shockingly easy to get out of him. It almost felt too easy really, but he sounded sincere. Why wouldn’t he be?

“O..okay. I didn’t mean that to sound like an accusation if it did. I only want us all to be in good shape if we need to fight.” Traveler only intended to find out if he wasn’t feeling too well. That was quite a bit more than she was after. He lifted a talon and pointed at her in an apparently conciliatory manner and chuckled quietly. He really was an odd one, to her at least. Each readied their weapons as she slipped back into her stealth suit. It was so familiar by now. Familiar to the point of nearly feeling like it was closing in too tightly. Wait, what?

What was she thinking? Too tight? This thing practically felt built for her. That was a very strange thought. Where did it even come from? There was absolutely nothing wrong being in this suit so why did she have to remind herself it was comfortable? The unusual sensation passed over such a random thought. They began searching for the source of the thudding sound. It proved elusive for a while. It definitely emanated from somewhere in this direction. Rows of equipment none could guess the function of were all over the place, mostly destroyed.

Battle must have engulfed everywhere on this level. What were they fighting?

“Guys, I just realized something I really do not like.” Tasket spoke quietly as they shuffled through the myriad doors in this labyrinth of a place.

“That I’m actually super handsome?” Tisket made a snrking sound. Tasket sighed.

“Did any of you notice that the big skeletons in that first room were fighting with everypony else, but the ones on this side of the big door weren't?” Tasket sounded grave.

“What do you mean?” Gunnar was quick to ask.

“Whatever they were, on this side of the door they were all facing the same direction as the ponies and griffons like they were fighting together. That doesn’t make any sense if they were all trying to kill each other does it?” The group stopped and looked at her.

“What?” She kind of shrugged at them.

“Why did you have to realize this now? Great. Sounds worse.” Tanner interjected.

“This is more and more weird the more we see. I can’t get a read on things. There aren’t any hostile marks now, but I’m not even certain my armor is really working properly either.” That was an admission Traveler was a little reluctant to make before, but since the griffon was being so forthcoming she figured it would be wise to do the same.

“What? And you brought us all down here?” Tanner verbally jabbed. That hurt.

“It’s not..not working, it just isn’t tell me anything useful.” She replied.

“Oh. Don’t go scaring me like that. What I mean is..uh, gee that thudding noise is annoying.” What was he about to say? That really was getting annoying now. It was also very close. She waved them all forward to follow into the next room where they came upon something most distressing. A circulating fan above was swinging something about on a line caught within. The bloodied corpse of a griffon tangled in the line with a heavy metal object wrapped about the poor things legs which continually smacked a wall hard each time around.

Gunnar let out a sound Traveler could only describe to herself as a shrill cooing squeak of surprise and disgust. He managed to look even more ill than before.

“Get him down from there!” Gunnar motioned to her. Traveler reached up with both forelegs and caught the object mid-spin which yanked her forward into the other wall with a clank but did succeed in pulling the body free to land on the floor. Ugh. Sickening.

“This is no skeleton. He’s been dead a long time, but not that long.” Tasket observed.

“We might not be the only living things here after all. Take a better look at him. He has caps that fell out of his barding, what’s left of it. He is definitely from the wastes like us, but how did he get down here?” Tisket gathered up the caps he saw scatter when the body fell.

“He must be from another mercenary talon. Most likely a scavenging party on contract, they would never risk pushing into a place like this. Not without support and a huge bonus waiting anyway.” A troubled expression on Gunnar portrayed this was a big issue.

“Well that does bring up another question. No way he could have got past those turrets is there? We saw no other signs of life on our way down. I could be wrong, but there might be another way into this place.” Traveler only guessed. The poor griffon at last lay still now. How did he get tangled in something like that? It may have been done to him on purpose. That would lend itself to someone or something else being down here.

“He’s still been dead for a long time, I wonder what happened?” Tanner mentioned.

Looking about the room nothing else garnered any attention . The metal object and heavy cable line were nothing special. It was only a heavy metal cube. If it ever served any actual purpose there was no remaining clue what that might have been, if anything.

“Gunnar, I’m sorry to say this but we need to leave this room now. I can hardly breathe in here.” Tasket was right. A dead body was rather unpleasant to begin with and this room was filled with the stench of death. The general scent throughout the base was unpleasant enough.

“One more thing.. His barding has been chewed on..see it?” They all sort of gasped to realize Gunnar was correct about this. What looked like bite marks were all over it.

“Are you saying something is here that can bite right through armor like nothing!?” It was Tisket’s turn to sound unnerved by this place. The heavy griffon just nodded and walked forward out into the next hallway and turned to look back, quite a sad expression crossed him.

“I suggest we keep moving. There is nothing we can do for him.” He beckoned.

“Don’t you want to bury him too or something?” Tasket questioned this.

“I don’t know him, what he did, whether he was honorable or a great fighter or anything else. Besides, this is one huge grave already. We can’t possibly drag him all the way out of here now can we?” He was correct. No means was brought of conveying a body that would not be completely unpleasant.

“There is also the more pressing matter of what might be in here.” He walked on.

The group followed a bit sullenly behind him after that. Traveler was truly starting to have terrible misgivings about this course of action. Worse and worse.

“Gunnar, listen. I know you want to find out what happened here and don’t want to hear this, but we should turn tail and leave. Right now. This is us looking for a fight we don’t need to have and there’s more than enough of those. We should go and bury this whole place immediately.” As she said this he shook his head and looked at her directly.

“We cannot do that.” What did he mean by that? She felt a little confused. Guessing she was about to ask he explained. He really looked poorly now. Was he really alright?

“You said it yourself, there has to be another way into this place. If you’re serious about burying all of this then we need to find out where that is. We will never find it from outside. We almost passed right by that huge entrance and would never have known if not for the guns.” Traveler felt a bit dumb hearing this. Of course he was right. She did say it herself.

If she could have put her hoof to her face at that moment she would have. If there was another way in, it was also a way out. A way out for whatever it might be that did this.

“If we can, we need to find and destroy whatever caused all of this. If it is still here it must be stopped now. Something causing this amount of death cannot be allowed outside. We need to be sure. There are horrors out there bad enough already. We must..must.. stop it.” Gunnar took a deep breath and suddenly stumbled several steps into a wall quite hard.

“Gunnar!” Tasket reached him first and held him up gently.

“What..It feels like you’re on fire! You are burning up. You old bird, you’re in much worse shape than you said.” She admonished him. He wheezed and coughed heavily as he stepped sideways to lean and gasping more and more as his eyes fluttered.

“N..no. Something..wrong with me.” He was sounding awful and looked off-balance quite rapidly. He slowly slid himself down against the wall to the floor.

“Too..quick. Nobody gets sick this fast except from..rad exposure...or..poison.” He managed to gasp out. His breathing was labored and harsh sounding. The suit did not indicate anything wrong here in either of those ways. This was much too rapid.

“You can let go of me, I’m okay.” The wheezing griffon sat leaning against the hallway wall. His eyes were watering very badly.

“Hate to break it to you, but you are most certainly not okay!” Tisket insisted he relax.

A hostile mark flickered through the display once more only to vanish again.

“What’s wrong with him? He’s looking worse and worse.” Tanner could see everyone was getting scared. Keep them calm. Never panic. That’s what he said to do.

“We are not alone here. I saw something hostile just for an instant. We should get him out of here. We need to get moving. Now.” Traveler got the others to drape him over her armor against his protestations to carry him. It didn’t matter as he was falling unconscious.

“You are..one heavy griffon.” Tasket grunted as they heaved him atop.

“Back the way we came, quietly as we can. Tanner, watch our tails.” The siblings walked alongside keeping him balanced atop her suit while Tanner kept an eye out behind. The hostile mark flickered past again, directly back the way they’d been heading. Traveler found herself wondering why only Gunnar was sick as a disturbing thought struck her. Could it be because he was a griffon and they weren't? This could have terrible implications if that somehow proved true. Was something in this place that only made griffons sick? Something more was wrong.

“This isn’t right. This is the wrong way. We've already walked through here.” This looked like the same area they just left only moments ago.

“That’s impossible. We only marked one way, remember?” Tasket pointed at the marks they’d scratched on doors and walls.

“No no no no…” Tisket was repeating.

“What, what is it?” Tanner looked around to spot it.

“This IS the same hall, how did we get back here again?” Traveler was beginning to feel truly unnerved. They were so careful to mark the path back, what was this?

“Guys..look.” Tanner pointed a hoof along the wall at what appeared to be identical marks to what they’d been using. Lots and lots of them. What? How?

“That can’t be. We only made one set of marks.” This was disturbing and puzzling.

“Let’s not panic. My suit still shows the right way out.” She assured them.

What she did not tell was that it could only ever point one way and not give a real sense of their surroundings. That was something they would now have to contend with themselves. Telling herself she was becoming too reliant on this suit felt pretty bad, but was that really such a bad thing? She told herself it was just what was necessary right now, but somehow that did not feel quite right. The others looked a little less concerned at least, she must do her best to keep their confidence up for the moment. Panic was never good to allow upon oneself.

“Okay, we just made a wrong turn somehow is all. No big deal. Just back the way we came and I will keep my eyes glued on the direction this time.” They began this curious retreading of their previous path over again only to find something more problematic. The hostile red marker was now in front of them again. Whatever it was moved around fast.

“Eyes open, enemy near again somewhere.” She did not want to be shot at or engaged while carrying the extremely sick griffon. He would make a very easy target atop her as it was.

Something about the hostile marker was wrong. It was shown as an unusual streak of a long solid line while something snaked past at the distant end of the corridor they were now walking along. Not good. What did that mean? Serious trouble was descending upon them.

“I saw something go by. It was right up there. It was..big. Really really big.” Tisket was looking through his scope, but whatever it might be was already out of sight. Was something that huge and smart enough to mess with their marked path back really down here?

Gunnar sort of cough-chirped weirdly and heavily, but was still unconscious. Was that some kind of reflex? In any other circumstance it might have sounded cute. Now something like that could attract unwanted attention. This was not an anticipated situation at all.

“Turn back. Turn back, we can’t go that way. Whatever it is stopped over there.” Being able to tell the things relative position was a little helpful, but it was now barring their way back. Was this planned or just random? No way to tell right now. What could it be?

It was not moving as they retreated back the way they’d come again. Now back in the hall where they stopped for the third time. The hostile marker remained there.

“I don’t think we have a choice. We have to go further inside.” Traveler said quietly.

“What!?” They all shushed Tanner as he exclaimed a little too loudly.

“We do not have the firepower for...for whatever that thing is. We just don’t. I don’t know if anypony does.” Traveler was now feeling terribly responsible over coming in here.

She felt this her fault for not insisting on leaving originally. Against her own better judgment she’d deferred to the griffon and his wants, now they might very well all die here. Alone in this forgotten place full of nothing but death. No. Stop thinking that way. She gave herself a scolding once more internally. Already lived through very bad things, get going already.

“We move on. It is behind us and not going anywhere. If there is another way out somewhere, we must find it quickly.” They all followed, trying to keep quiet as was possible.

After what felt to be interminable hours wandering these lonely halls with only the echoes of fallen as their surroundings, it was nice to find a spot that did not seem as damaged. It was not bereft of the dead. Still no way out was located and they needed to stop. There was no choice. Whatever caused such grand scale of madness to engulf the whole of this lost citadel of old ponies might and knowledge felt so unknowable as to have been alien even to those mighty heralds of old days gone by so long ago. Gunnar was still out cold. Very bad.

“Gunnar, please wake up old guy. Please..we need you.” Tasket was lightly shaking him trying to rouse but he was simply not coming out of it. She shook her head lightly. It was no use. She poured some water from one of the bottles on a cloth piece and draped it over his head softly. He was still so hot to the touch. Almost painfully so. That was not right in any way.

“He is so hot. I hope he’s not like..dying.” Tasket was extremely worried over him. None of them said that so far but were thinking it for certain. They were all worn feeling by now.

“What if there is no other way out and we are just hopelessly lost in this place?” Tisket said fairly quiet and strained sounding. The stress was getting to everyone.

“We aren’t lost. We will find it. I just know it.” Traveler said. She’d left Moonlight on guard facing the direction they’d come from. These rooms were different in some slight but noticeable ways. They were more orderly in appearance, there was even a working terminal in the corner which proved of no real use. It only sat there displaying ‘Disconnected’. What did that mean?

They each tried pressing buttons on the thing but it resulted only in clicking and a light humming sound in response. It looked interesting, but yielded no information of any help. Traveler knew a terminal could prove useful, or even dangerous depending on the circumstances. She’d been told about some of them a lifetime ago. Did it really feel so long already? It did. She sat reflecting on their predicament. Was anyone really at fault here? She’d come into this place out of curiosity, and the others followed. They did not have to accompany.

Would it have been better to have ignored this ancient place ponies and others once roamed? What even was this place in truth? Magnificent might know, but he’d definitely never mentioned this one in particular. Finding herself wishing he was here more than ever. Her father was there saying sweetheart this won’t do. Stop moping and pull yourself together. We need your help. Huh? Snapping awake to realize she’d dozed off for some time while staring at the wall she stretched and looked around. Tasket was the one on watch right at this moment.

That dream again, kind of, but not like the last couple times. He looked as he ever did in that imposing cloak forever hiding his wings. It was such a shame he barely ever got to use them. On the ground it was generally not wise to reveal oneself as a pegasus in this world. Her thoughts drifted over many such things until falling to sleep proper. The rest was much needed. When they got up again she would still have to carry the griffon. That could become a problem.

It was best the others not waste their strength lugging him along. It was no real strain on the suit. It could handle much more than this, but did put more weight on the backend of the thing. That leg joint was so much worse than when she started out months before. Did even her father ever imagine she would be delving into a place like this? He’d some notion of looking for the book but felt it could be done with far less risk than this entailed. No, he would not have come down here, she concluded. This might have been a huge mistake.

What was that enormous thing they barely avoided earlier? Running into something so large was just not anything that could be planned for. Did it mess with their path markings or was somebody else here as well? This felt dreadful and dangerous now. Anything that big could destroy her suit easily. Was the old griffon dying? She didn’t know much about illness. Getting sick was very often fatal in the wastes. That much was understood. The weak fell quickly. Carrying him around probably wasn’t good either, but there was no choice.

“This all looks a lot different. Maybe we’re making some headway. Everything here looks..brighter? Shinier anyway.” They were moving once more, approaching an unusual raised platform in a wide open room with terminals absolutely lining the walls and strange vats of unusual looking liquids on the walls, almost all of them were shattered. This looked interesting for a change. Most of the terminals were locked or dead. Some were displaying what were merely arcane symbols that could not be understood. One thing truly stood out.

A unicorn skeleton lay aside one of the terminals with ancient dried blood spattered all down the side of it. This terminal proved to be unlocked and readable. Only one thing was offered to select on the screen reading ‘Science lead, containment lab final report’. Laying the still huffing griffon aside, Traveler with some trepidation pressed the button whereupon a terrifying portrayal of events here scrolled up. Some information about genetics and other things none of them understood were being shown, an audio log began playing:

[I pray none ever find this log. If somepony has, forgive me. For my own gratification I set events in motion that were ill-considered. I have let my rivalry with Dr. I doom us all. He became so condescending towards me, he and everypony else were always questioning my intelligence. It was insufferable and infuriating. I was only seeking to make our descendants stronger. They did not understand, and I did not make us stronger. Instead in my own insanity I became so enraged as to set my experiments loose upon everybody. It was a grave error.

The destruction I wrought in those few moments falls too heavily on my heart. The implants let me order my creations to help fight against him..it. There are over ten thousand residents here, and we are all dead. What I did not anticipate was my most ardent rival doing the same as I. He went so much further. The griffons were hardest hit. What has he done to them and himself? He is something else now. An unstoppable monster that I helped create. Those still of sound mind are together now. It cannot fit in the emergency elevator behind me.

Now it searches for a way out. We put to a vote and the vast majority have proven more brave than I ever imagined. Any that would escape already have, if there is even anything left above us. We have managed to secure the containment doors against him but are almost spent defending it. The creature he has become still possesses some level of intellect and understanding. It cannot be reasoned with. The hunger is too great. I knew he was becoming truly mad, but what he has unleashed goes far beyond anything I ever attempted.

Somepony amongst the scientific staff was quick and clever enough to initiate containment protocol, rendering lab badges useless on this side of the door. At least now he cannot open any doors freely either. What did I do? I have killed us all for my own edification. I never thought he would do something like this. I highly regret that I never told him how I always envied his intelligence and felt dwarfed in his presence. Only his own worsening attitude prevented him being stationed above me in this very lab. Too late.

I acted too late. The security detail has fought with everything they have. Because of what happened initially they were heavily skeptical of fighting alongside my creations. There is no time to mature them further. Their minds changed quickly when they saw it. Even my experiments stand little chance. All of the griffons here are falling sick, worsening our chances of survival. Before he was transmogrified into something so grotesque somehow he pumped an infectious agent into the air circulating systems which has proven impossible to scrub.

It only appears to affect griffons in this way. I have hurriedly created a temporary defense. It is not a cure, for the ones that are dying right now there is nothing to be done. I could not synthesize enough of the counteractive agent for so many. The choice was made to give it only to the still healthy soldiers. Everyone understood the necessity of this. Even so, they have all fallen protecting this laboratory in some vain hope that I might find a way to stop him. The shooting is slowing outside. We have been fighting for years. I didn’t count. So many dead.

I was pretty clever about it, one need only ingest the contents soon enough to offer protection, for a time. Sadly there is only one phial of the counteragent remaining in the locker to my left, but it does not matter. There is no one left to administer it to. It is irrelevant, my own end draws near. If you are hearing my voice now, I got only what I deserved. Hello, doctor..I know you are there in the shadows you have become so adept at hiding in. Get on with it, my friend.] A skittering eerie heavy sound approached in the recording which cut off with a click. Friend?

“Well that was disturbing. Can we please find a way out of here now?” Tanner almost made Traveler jump when he said it. Need to calm down after hearing that horror story.

“Uh, wait what did he say, something for griffons to drink in a locker..uh, there.” She saw it. Over on the far left was a closed glass door and shelf with a phial filled with a blue looking liquid. It would almost look pretty in a less dangerous situation. Fortunately it was not locked. Tasket went about pouring the contents down the fading griffons throat. Maybe it would help.

“I hope we didn’t just kill him..he didn’t even wake up.” Tasket said grimly. Couldn’t worry about that right now. Gunnar looked truly terrible, but still breathing. Maybe they found this stuff in time. They could only wait for time to pass in regards to him. Getting out of here was now more important than ever. The story told about the former pony wandering these long lost halls scared them all on some deep-seated level. What really happened to this Doctor I? What a strange name that was. An elevator was indeed just ahead. Only one problem.

The damage done in this room was very random. At some point the elevator controls were dented inwards heavily. Could they still be worked? If fortune smiled on them it would simply come down and free them from this maze of terror. Was this how that other griffon got in here originally? That did not really make sense either. Not with the controls smashed as they were. Not something to dwell on at this moment. Traveler played at the controls gently. They lit up but did nothing. Not good. Not good at all. The need to leave was overwhelming.

“Tasket, do you think you could very very lightly get that button crushed in there back out? I don’t want to break this further but it can’t be pushed stuck in there like that.” She asked if Tasket might levitate it out of there. That could be tricky without breaking it fully.

“I..don’t know. I don’t have very fine control over something like that. Not my usual thing. I can try.” Traveler nodded. Any chance to get out of this endless dead place must be taken now. They all looked on, worried as her horn lit up, face contorted in concentration.

A strained creaking sound added a further worry as she tried to manipulate the panel just to gently slip forward without damaging it more. With a sort of light ping sound it crunched and came free just enough. Whew. Would it work now? Only one way to find out. Tasket softly hoofed the up arrow button and with tremendous relief a whirring sound was heard distantly. No, Wait. this is no good. No. Too loud. It was making much too much noise.

“Oh, that thing might hear this noise. Bad bad bad..hurry up.” Tisket said.

The elevator approaching from above was terrifically loud. The age of the unseen machinery driving it and decade after decade of disuse made it a surprise to be in working condition in any way. This tenuous connection to the world above might be their only means of escape now. The huge creature still living here must be what stripped all the bones completely clean, Traveler realized just now. The ten thousand dead must have provided it more than enough meals to survive all this time. It must have picked almost every last one clean by now.

“The thing we saw must be what became of this doctor. It must have gone after what was left of the griffon we found. It probably won’t be occupied too long. Come on, come on..” Traveler said as the entire group stood waiting. Finally the doors ground open a little too loudly. They shoved Gunnar inside, piling in. The controls in here looked dirty and tremendously old but in far better shape. Tanner hit the button, nothing happened. He pushed the button again and once more. The doors were not closing. Was this old thing too damaged to make one final trip?

“Oh please, don’t stop working. Just go up one last time..please?” Speaking to machines again. Traveler mashed the button several more times when much to their great relief the doors slid closed just as some huge barely seen monstrosity darted into the lab, crashing into the just closed doors denting them inwards making everyone press into the back of the elevator car.

“Was it, talking? I thought I heard it say something.” Tisket sounded horrified.

“Who cares!? All that matters is we’re going up.” Tanner responded.

“That was way too close. I’m so sorry I lead you guys in there. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Traveler sounded rather dejected as the elevator rose. It was grinding badly.

“Whoa whoa. We chose to follow. Don’t worry about it. Besides, it doesn’t get much more exciting than that. Without dying anyway. That was fun!” Tasket sounded oddly enthused about the whole thing? She called that fun? Traveler was somewhat taken aback at their attitude about it. She found that exciting? This was more than a little confusing feeling to her. How strange.

“I wonder where this comes out. It’s taking an awfully long time.” Tanner was right about that, but they were quite a long way underground. Sighing in relief they waited on reaching the surface. Traveler thought she might need to ask about their definition of fun later on.

“I’ve never been in one of these before. Does this feel kind of sickening to you too?” Traveler asked. They all nodded. None of them were ever in a working elevator previously. At last the rattle of the machinery began slowing. They must be nearing the top. Hopefully.

The ancient elevator limped and stuttered upwards to a concerning shuddering stop when the doors at last heaved themselves open, sending sparks off the tracks they slid on. They found themselves in the first floor room where the spidery mechanical arms were still going about doing whatever they did. This elevator was was obscured from view.

“We need to get him out of this place, something in the air is what’s making him sick.” Traveler got them moving quickly. Gunnar needed to be outside away from this place.

After moving far out of the turrets range and back towards the previous path they’d been following, Traveler went back to retrieve her cart. It was still just inside. It felt a bit fearful to walk back into that place, but the thing was safely confined far below where it would likely soon starve to death. Something about that felt terrible. It was a pony, once. Did he at one time have other friends, family? Did he really do something like that to himself? What could possibly have made anyone that miserable they would rather turn themself into some kind of monster?

Unusually she noticed the tertiary tag showing in her display. What was this? A sort of light glow highlighted a panel to the left of the huge doors which she pulled open to reveal something marked in her vision as ‘Array Component’. How’d she miss that earlier? Oh well.

“Ooh. I remember now, this was on the board. I forgot about it. Better take it along, just in case.” At least there was one good thing to come out of this misadventure. Nearly nothing else was gained during this, save for misery and a few caps. So little did not make up for it.

“Everything about everything hurts. Why does everything hurt so much and feel so miserable? This can’t be right.” She bemoaned the situation while going back up the path. It felt so wrong. Two former friends somehow wound up becoming so angry with one another they set off a ludicrous battle that killed so many? How could just two cause so much pain to everyone else around them? It hurt her head to think about. The ponies of the old world knew incredibly much, but maybe they weren't so wise after all. What would Down Range say about this?

Even if unintentional, it was terrible what they did. Thousands upon thousands died for no good reason in that lost place. Now it was known for certain there was only one real entrance. After pulling the cart back, she made up her mind about what to do. The heavily muscled griffon was looking a little better, but still unconscious. Best just let him rest for the moment. That sounded so much better, less ragged.

“It must die down there. I hate to do this, but I’m going to bury it all.” She said tersely.

“Wait wait. It is imprisoned anyway, right? What about the water this place can provide? Fresh water isn’t exactly easy to come by at times.” Tasket pointed out.

“She makes a valid point you know.” Tanner took her side for a change.

“It’s too much of a risk, and just look what happened to him.” Pointing at the griffon drove her side of the matter home. He was looking better and better. The stuff must have worked. Why did things from back then last so long anyway? Each shook their heads. She was right.

“I don’t know how this works, or if griffons could ever safely go in there. It’s not worth it.” Traveler made up her mind this must be done.

“How do you plan on doing that? We don’t have an explosive that large.” Tisket pointed out their few grenades weren't enough. That would have been a problem at one time.

“But we do. Tanner, you still have it.” She said as the siblings looked quizzically.

“Oh, right.” He rummaged around in that ever-present carry sack of his.

How did he ever find anything in there? Tanner pulled out the sound agitation grenade she’d given him a long while ago. It was a positively wicked looking device.

“What in the world is that thing? It looks kind of like a grenade.” Tisket asked about it just as the large griffon gasped deeply and opened his eyes, making them all jolt.

“Sheesh, Gunnar! Thanks for the heart attack.” Tanner gave the grenade over to her. It was a bit larger than a normal sort.

“Ouch. Why does my back hurt so much? What happened? We’re outside? What is this awful taste?” He groaned and spit but was looking much stronger already as well. Whew.

“Take it easy and slow. It’s a long story, we can talk about it later, but first I have to use this.” She said as his eyes widened just a touch at seeing the unusual looking grenade. He got up and stretched then leaned in close.

“Well that looks interesting, what have you got there?” He was definitely better.

“A sound agitation grenade. Stay right here to be safe. All of you.” Traveler ordered. She went and carefully decided on a spot to maximize the special grenades effect, thinking about where precisely it might send as much tumbling down as possible. Looking about she came to the conclusion sending the face of the huge wall down on top of itself and the door would probably be the best course of action. Never having used this type of weapon the task was approached with due caution. She readied herself to set it off.

Gingerly placing it atop the drop above the doors and between the strangely endlessly firing turrets. They must have been shooting randomly that way for a very long time, but why? The powerful guns may still not have been enough to stop that monster anyway. This felt terrible, but must be done. Tugging the pin out her display showed 5 seconds before it went off. She turned and ran back to her companions. A few seconds later the strangest sound was heard followed by millions of tonnes debris hurtling down, the large turrets along with it all.

“Yow. You had a weapon like that this entire time? Why didn’t you use it down there?” Tasket looked shocked and amazed. What a boom it made. Traveler shook her head.

“I was told never to use it inside anywhere. Something about amplification in a confined space? It could have killed us all along with it. Look what it did out here..” She finished explaining. That was a pretty good point. The billowing puffs of dust clouds drove it home.

“Oh, I see. Made a nice blast anyway.” At least there was a good reason for not using it.

“Ohh my head. Alright, now how long have I been out of it?” Gunnar spat again and asked, gingerly rubbing his head. He was beginning to get his bearings back properly.

“You were unconscious nearly two days and almost died because of an illness a doctor from the old world created.” He looked completely shocked hearing both of these things.

“Why would anyone create an illness? So vile. That is disgusting behavior.” Gunnar was quite sickened by the very idea. It was not in any way honorable to do such a thing.

He felt the same way about poison. If you were going to fight you should just fight. A cowards method was all he could feel about it. It was quite angering to the muscular griffon.

Traveler offered to let him listen to the log which her suit copied when it was played. Gunnar listened intently, looking totally nonplussed. It ended on that terrible sound.

“Well, they are all gone. Hopefully whatever is left of the doctor perishes quickly, locked down there. From that and what you’ve told me, everyone there put up a grand fight.” He said.

“A fight to the end, not a bad way to go out. It is unfortunate to have been against such a dishonorable enemy. My apologies I was knocked out of the fight.” He really didn’t need to apologize for that. It was unbecoming for a griffon to leave a fight once started.

“It is in no way your fault, there was no way to know any of that would happen.” Tisket then suggested they take a break for a while. Everyone was all for that.

“I do wonder something though. What really was that place?” Traveler pondered.

It was quite strange. The upper levels were so barren and unusually arranged. Hardly having seemed lived in at all. Why were all the doors on those levels wide open?

“It is gone, that is the only thing that matters now. Hopefully it remains buried forever.” Gunnar was particularly thirsty, but could be forgiven for drinking a lot after that. He hadn’t drank anything in almost two days due to being unconscious except a terrible tasting medicine of some sort. He’d come dangerously close to expiring. It might have been too late for it.

“Do you, feel okay now? The log said if you didn’t get that stuff soon enough you would really have died.” Tasket was rather worried about what was said.

“I think I’m okay. Actually I think I feel a bit stronger than before? A little weird. I believe I should also say I’m sorry. I was a bit harsh on you back there at the door.” That was not something any of the rest expected to hear from him. Especially Tasket.

“Don’t worry about it.” She replied. They were following him after all, wherever he went.

The group settled into a bit of an uneasy rest for a while.

“Gunnar?” Traveler approached him a few hours later looking a bit quizzical.

“I’m fine, really.” He spoke but she hadn’t said anything yet.

“It’s not that..I want to ask you something. That log made it sound like those two ponies used to be friends. I thought..friends didn’t hurt each other?” That question seemed to sting him for some reason as he looked down a moment before replying.

“I don’t know much about that kind of thing. Everyone I knew before I was left to fend for myself died, the last ones really badly. They were fearless fighters as they should have been, but they all died. I have no friends.” He didn’t? That did not sit right with her.

“I don’t mean to intrude, but what about the captain or them, aren’t you friends with someone? Anyone?” That was quite strange of him, she thought, or was it really?

“Don’t get me wrong, they have earned my respect, and you too.” He sighed a little.

“Friends I do not know, and no one has ever really known me, not really. After losing so many in battle I have never felt a need for any. No, friends or family are not for me. I don’t have to care about or provide anything for anyone but me.” Traveler was a bit dismayed hearing this. That sounded very self-centered. Not something she ever expected to hear him say.

“What about your mother, your father?” The moment it was said Traveler became worried she was pressing too hard or on a subject he might respond badly to.

“I never knew them. They died before I even saw one of them.” He didn’t look too upset about this line of questioning or anything. Was he really so much different than her? This was technically the third person she’d met who didn’t know or lost their parents. This was something else though, he never knew any at all. Maybe it made sense for him not to care about them.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who took care of you then?” Since this banter appeared friendly enough she wanted to know more, the others were talking elsewhere anyway.

“Losing someone when you have very few left already is a bad situation for anybody. The talon I was with raised me, fed me, taught me to fight. They were already dwindling in numbers before I came along. I was just added to that number, nothing more. All I’d ever known is a constant struggle to survive, all everyone knows. I can see in what you are doing a very small chance to change that for others. If you might really change the world, maybe it will spare them more of the same. I know I’m tired of it.” She sat as if spellbound by all of this.

“I was taken care of only to where I could make my own decisions. At some point I finally woke up to the fact that we weren't actually living, only dying. I tried to convince them to try something different, but living that way was all they’d ever known and then they all died. I do owe my life and having made it this far to them, so I choose to honor them, doing the one thing most of them never got to do. The only real goal we were ever given.” Traveler found all this quite sad and painful to hear in some way. He was really talking quite loosely for a change.

Maybe telling all this was some kind of relief for him. It was a lot to take in. Why was he being so open about things like this now? She’d only really known him to be stern and a bit quiet on most matters. Was he acting this way because of being out of action for a while or something else? Perhaps it didn’t matter all that much really, the path he was choosing to go down could only really result in his death wouldn’t it? The fact she was speaking to someone who was certainly heading to inevitably die was giving a feeling she couldn’t quite describe to herself.

“Thank you for speaking to me about this.” Was the only thing she could respond with.

“I don’t know if I can change the world, even with help and I have to say I do not fully understand you going so far. Things went wrong, but I do not think you owe them anything. Your talon chose to take care of you and that made them all your parents, isn’t it parents job to do that and help you on your way? Wouldn't it be a better idea to try and make the world better yourself?” Traveler felt she might be saying too much with that, but needed to do so.

He did look to be considering her words deeply and finally answered.

“I have actually been looking forward to this trip for a long time now. Ponies are not like griffons, you don’t think the same or feel the same way we do about things. Back there with the captain, things were becoming too routine for me and if I waited to go much longer I would be too old to set out or fight. I might not look it, but I am worn out and the one thing I do not want is to just die of old age. I hope you can understand that much.” It was difficult to hear from him, but now that he said it she found it somehow easier to notice how he appeared around the edges.

Was she blinded to it by the fact she’d only met griffons for the first time a mere half-year or so ago and overlooked his appearance? Only now did it become readily apparent to her he was aged. Gunnar was still fit and decently strong from long struggles, but she could see it now. The slight droop to his muscles, a slightly off muted look to his feathers and other little things that did give an impression of encroaching age. He was still imposing to her.

“You don’t look that old to me. You’re probably stronger than I am.” She meant it.

He chuckled softly. That was kind of good to hear coming from him.

“Don’t overdo it, I might get ideas. I know perfectly well you earth ponies have plenty of strength on your worst days. Thank you for that, but I made up my mind long before I left, I’m going out while I still have any strength left.” His explanation did make sense, but it still felt wrong somehow. There was nothing she could do to convince him otherwise. A pervasive feeling of sadness would not leave her about the idea. She reached out and touched his chest.

He looked at her while appearing a bit puzzled by this action.

“I never had any friends either, but everyone should have real friends. I believe this, and I will say you are one of mine. I and I’m sure others will miss you very much, for you, not for what you can do. I can tell you the captain feels the same way. I know.” Traveler felt she said all there was to say about this and walked off to get some rest. She didn’t notice the slight teary look in his eyes as she left, nor did she hear what he whispered to himself afterwards.

For some time now Traveler meant to ask about why Tasket wore such odd barding. The unusual criss-cross shaped armor was quite flexible and durable. It was well made considering much of the metal, cloth, and other things available were in poor shape to begin with and must have cost a decent amount to have constructed. Any item in good condition was a commodity of skewed value. Few were around with enough to pay for that kind of thing, or those with the skills required to create them from the remnants of better days only vaguely recalled.

“What’s the story with your armor anyway? You said you hate clothes of any kind a while back.” Traveler really wanted to know about this, it was quite odd. She thought it was at least.

“I got my leg hurt sort of badly a while before we met you. It was a little too close, and it really got to me. I think I would rather die than lose any of my limbs, I do not want to be a burden on anyone else.” That was a saddening thought in multiple ways. How many may have died just from that very sort of thing before in the extremely brutal world they lived in?

Having come close to dying so many times in such a relatively short period of time through her own actions or things merely outside of her control made this quite pointed. Everything was a risk. Dying early in what little chain of life remained could almost be taken as a given. Her much beloved old storybook left far behind as with so many memories presented a considerably brighter and hopeful world where true misery was not the norm. It was difficult to believe happiness like described in those worn pages was ever a reality. Yet, it was.

Having met a pony from that very time painted the picture much differently in her mind than a mere book could offer. Some proven definite fantasy, but some was not. The world was once hopeful, bursting with color, and most of all it was once in some ways just as grand as she imagined it to have been. This was not where she found herself. Her path thus far was littered with pain, fear, and just the slightest tinge of hope. Hope, a word she did not truly understand before being thrown into the thick of things with little preparation. Only luck saved her to date.

Something about surviving this long almost felt incorrect. Should she even be alive by now? Each step was met with a horrendous challenge which for all the effort given should have resulted in her death. This did not sit well in her thoughts. How was it she was not dead? The kind of things strewn in her path were life-destroying, but she still stood here. Something in the air felt to stir ahead. Would going after this book mean only more pain to endure? Looking around at her temporary companions hurt the heart somewhat. Would they die soon?

Each felt like they’d been near a lifetime already. A great weight with which to anchor herself to a clear goal. To achieve just that one thing would mean everything. It would not save the whole of the world, that was much too big. It might simply be a start, a beginning from which others might launch themselves towards that lofty a thing. No, she could not save the entire world with this, that was understood. What was not understood were the array of weird and nearly unidentifiable encounters with crazed caricatures of living things. It was frightening.

How many true monsters infested the land? It would be easy to give up and turn tail. Easy, safe, let somepony else worry about it and risk life and limb. It was entirely possible this journey might scar and maim for what remained of a lifetime, Tisket proved as much. She carried quite a scar where her leg was nearly lopped off. More pain and sorrow almost certainly lay in wait ahead. A sort of melancholy descended on the group the next morning, punctuating how close they’d come to death once more and little gain for it. It was a mistake.

Traveler felt she’d made a lot of those. Choosing to explore just for adventures sake was not wise. Something horrible from the old world was learned of, but did that knowledge give any real benefit? At best it gave some experience sorely needed. Did this make it any less a mistake? It could not be taken back. Over and done was the only reassurance about the whole time. Time was not even an actual concern, there was no push to go rushing straight into danger. It seemed from all of that, friendships could become terribly painful as well.

“We are getting closer. According to what little I was told there should be a huge library or what’s left of one ahead, about eighteen miles. I hope it still stands. We could be there by tonight or tomorrow morning.” Traveler said as they all picked up what few things they carried and headed on into unknown territory. The horrible feelings given by their previous encounters still remained in some evident amount, but it was only a nervousness brought on by one horrible thing after another. Maybe this time would be different and nothing terrible would happen.

Terrible things, that was the only description for much of her experience out here. Having been warned there were treacherous places and creatures in the world did little to lessen the horrors seen and witnessed on their trek. Not even Gunnar for having lived so long ever saw such terrors before. Were there worse things to come? That nearly sounded impossible, but it was now known better never to assume anything. The safest place in appearance could house horrors outside the bounds of imagining. The real depths of fear were known now.

Winning the day, getting the book and going home were thoughts best left for when it was actually won. All told it was a small goal. Grow crops, better, faster. It did look like such a small thing when condensed into a single sentence, but significance far outweighed the little time needed to explain. There was old knowledge to be had out there, somewhere, for the taking. It must be. The old world was nonchalant and wasteful of the bounties granted. This is how it appeared to this formerly unwilling adventurer. Maybe, just maybe she could make it.

Having come this far was a miracle. Traveler admitted to herself it was only this. A lifetime ago yet not so long she was just a child. A filly with dreams of grand treasures and riches waiting to be found by some daring pony willing to risk it all on a slight gamble. Never imagining she would be thrust into something far worse and much more hurtful than a little yarn. This was the harsh reality of adventure, rewards did possibly exist but they were tempered by loss and pain. Regret and sorrow. Getting this smacked into stark focus actually hurt.

At last, they were approaching the location marker her armor displayed. Just a few more miles ahead. They’d been through so much just making it this far. If things became any worse or harder ahead, would it even be possible to continue? Traveler felt it deep inside that her lucky escapes to date were just that, lucky. As she’d taken to doing previously, whenever approaching something odd they would hide the cart a fair distance off to keep both it and the contents safe from harm. Cautiously they covered their tracks, about a quarter mile before reaching the library.

“Is this really necessary? Having to backtrack to get this thing takes a while.” Tisket questioned their reasoning for doing this. Gunnar retorted immediately in defense.

“Not only would this thing get in the way in a fight, it has some rather valuable contents. This stuff belongs to them so we will do it her way.” Tisket nodded demurely in response to that.

After some while walking on the old griffon raised a claw to halt them. He looked a bit agitated. Why stop? They were nearly in sight of whatever might remain of the old library.

“Something is wrong here. Getting worse as we go. Do you feel it?” He intoned gravely and looked around. Each looked to the other and then it was noticed by all. A strange, sickly feeling of unease settled over them. What now? Not more weird and horrible things ahead? Tasket stood still in her unusual armor leg coverings. The odd criss-cross armor was highly unusual, but looked decently protective draped as it was over her back down the legs in a kind of slightly curved X pattern. She swallowed and tried to screw up some courage against this.

“We already faced death more than once. Laugh at it already, let’s get going.” She chuckled. She was correct. What were they thinking? That is where they must go.

“Alright. Eyes peeled and weapons ready. Space yourselves far apart, just in case.” Traveler mentioned. It felt a little odd to her giving orders, but this was her goal. Would the book be there in what still stood of the ancient building? It seemed like such an odd place to have put anything really. Why here? According to maps, as little use as they were, not much was around.

Perhaps a small town off to the southwest, if that even still existed in any way. It might lay entirely flattened judging by what little of towns and cities Traveler saw previously. The group strode towards the remains of what was very obviously an extremely large building. It stood surprisingly intact. Aged and worn, but still standing. From the outside some holes in the once grand roofing and walls could be seen. Nothing appeared to be moving or really unusual about it. It was both tense and exciting to finally be approaching the dilapidated place.

The odd feeling that something was wrong still overtook them all even as they resolutely approached. Staying spread out wide and using any potential cover to protect themselves on the off chance someone might be around. It was highly unlikely but this feeling would not leave. It was an imposing wreck of a place with ornate scrollwork upon all the exposed wooden surfaces. The intricate double swing doors must have been beautiful when first crafted. Wide and tall enough to let in and out at least six ponies standing abreast. This was pretty big.

Nothing seemed to be reacting to their presence so they joined back up in front of the main entrance. There were multiple other entryways smaller in stature off to the sides and elsewhere. A once functional water fountain stood before it. A grand spectacle of woven vines lay long dead atop the base. Once intended to invite visitors within and fire the imagination at the same time, it now stood as a creepy relic of past times. Two life-sized statues of ponies stood aside it, both looking out towards guests and an opposing hoof raised as if in invitation.

The feeling of creeping awfulness and dread only became worse as they closed in towards the doors. Not at all like before, maybe worse feeling still.

“I do not like this at all. You’re the one with the fancy armor, that thing tell you anything about this place?” Gunnar questioned Traveler. Oddly, it told her nothing at all. The gauges and displays were oddly silent about this location. That was very unusual. It was unusual, right?

“It tells me nothing. Nothing at all about this. That is..strange.” That was worrying.

“Huh. So helpful. Alright. Here is how it goes. You are the most protected, so you go in first. We will follow one at a time. If anything happens before we can line up inside, back out immediately. Got it?” The old griffon must know what he was doing. She trusted him implicitly.

“Here goes.” Traveler lined herself up and pushed on the doors. They didn’t move. Huh?

“Hey, Traveler? They probably open outwards.” Tisket snrked quietly. Oh. Oops. She pulled the door towards. A strangely smooth motion as it swung open. Gunnar held it there.

Slowly she stepped inside. Nothing and no one seemed to be around. No hostile tags at least. The damaged leg joint let out a terrific squeal that reverberated through the lobby.

“Oh gosh darnit.” She muttered to herself. The others cringed at the noise. It didn’t last long. Hopefully that would not bring anything down on them. Taking a deep breath she continued inside. Looking around revealed a huge entrance room with a curved desk that must have been very impressive once. It still was, but cracked and ruined. Papers lay all around.

With the doors open behind there was enough light for the others to see by and enter. Traveler moved towards the center of the room and stood before the desk. This was a library? It was huge. The condition of the papers laying all about left them basically unreadable. Hopefully if a copy of the book was here it would be in better shape. She took a long careful look around and waved the others over. Some small ensconced lights still lit up slightly somehow.

“Lights? How can that be? Anyway, it’s..much bigger than I expected.” She said.

“It looks and sounds abandoned, but be on your guard. We know that does not always mean anything.” Gunnar was holding up his energy pistols and aiming at any open entryway as they moved along. It felt even worse being inside. What was going on here? What in all the world could make it feel this way? The feeling of everything not being quite right was difficult to shrug off. Her armor was not raising any kind of alarm or indication of problems or danger. The feeling was real enough. Danger felt to be lurking in every dim corner, yet nothing so far.

“This could take a while..” Tasket said more to herself than anypony else. The floors on the main level were some kind of gritty marbled material in varying hues. There must be dozens of rooms on the first floor alone. Ponies built so many things, or maybe others built this?

“You got that right, this place is immense. I feel terrible in here and don’t want to spend a second longer than necessary. Is there some way to narrow down where to look for this book you’re after?” Tisket asked pointedly. She could only shake her head slowly.

“It doesn’t matter how we feel, we check thoroughly and see if we can’t find this book of hers however long it takes..” Gunnar motioned Tasket towards a door closest to him.

“We start there and go in a circle on this floor first. Watch out for anything that could be dangerous. In my experience places like this are never safe.” They all followed him into the first side room of many. It could take hours or days to look through the entire library. Nothing out of the ordinary. That was more concerning than the off feeling. There was always something.

It was better than winding up fighting anything. At least it appeared that way. The intensity of the feeling was highly out of the ordinary. Something about this place was off-putting in an inexpressible way. A dark and dreary time searching proved fruitless in this room and then many more. Each held little of value save for what were clearly once books for little fillies.

“Pff. The Enchanted Gazelle? Battling Birds of Singwood? Ballad of Hats? Some of these are rather silly. You ever hear any of these stories?” Tasket asked the group.

“I doubt anypony..or anyone else remembers any of these.” Traveler replied. Something else sad to think about. How many such stories or other wonders were left buried in this slowly withering and collapsing library? For now, her only objective was to find the almanac. What if it wasn’t here after all? It wasn’t time to think about that yet. The friendly tags flickered in her display showing two more. Huh? Was there someone else here after all? They were gone. What was that? Traveler decided her armor displays could not be fully trusted anymore.

“Hey guys, do you hear something? Like really quiet talking?” Tisket pointed to a vent opening in the ceiling of this room. They each moved closer to it trying to hear. There did seem to be a sound of some sort coming from it, nearly inaudible. That could be bad. Was someone else inside? The friendly markers displayed still only showed her companions. It was difficult to discern if that was even a real sound being heard through the rusted vent. Because it ran inside the ceiling it could not be followed back to the source. It might be nothing. More display flicker.

Was something really wrong with her armor systems? That would be a real problem. Again some hostile tags flicked then disappeared. This was eerily similar to what happened the last time they encountered a pony. What was going on? This combined with the endless feeling of things being amiss was frightening in a way she’d never felt before. This didn’t make sense. Did anything ever make any sense? This twisted poor feeling inside was interminable and near unbearable to the group. Even the grizzled griffon was having trouble coping under this.

“This is so weird. Maybe we should make a rapid sweep of this whole place. I know it will take a while, but I have this terrible sensation in my stomach telling me there is something terrible here that we should deal with or get away from.” Tasket was saying. This was not what they hoped to do here. Could nothing ever be easy or simple? It was probably too much to ask, Traveler thought to herself. The atmosphere here was even worse feeling than the odd oppression they spent so long walking through. Something was here.

“Alright, well..that was a couple wasted hours anyway and I feel strange too. Let’s make a quick run through this whole place and hope we really don’t find anything dangerous.” Traveler walked into the lobby with them all following. At least it was daytime and some modicum of dim light filtered in through outer windows and doors. It was now that Traveler noticed how unusually well-preserved the building was. Most she’d seen were in terrible condition or on the verge of collapse. Despite some damage, this would be very livable. Was somepony living here?

It was unlikely by virtue of being too far away from anywhere else even remotely inhabitable. It would be nearly impossible to actually reside here without large amounts of water and supplies. Where was that sound coming from? At a guess, it was somewhere on the floors above if anywhere. There was too much room to cover each other fully as they wandered through the silent halls. Traveler thought Gunnar almost looked giddy doing this.

“What’s up with you, old timer?” Tasket ribbed him and he chuckled in that soft way.

“I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. I chose to stay sidelined, but I might as well enjoy whatever I can now, yes?” His eyes glinted in the dim light. He was actually enjoying this? Perhaps being so sick before changed his opinion on some things, or warped them.

“You have an odd sense of what’s exciting. Now get down!” Tisket whispered and they all dropped to the floor as he looked through the scope of his sniper rifle. He remained very still, looking up at a balcony ringed by two sets of stairs in a very large open dark central room.

“What is it?” Traveler slipped over closer to him and looked up into the room ahead. It was very open and exposed out there. More so even than the lobby they entered through.

“I know I saw something. I know I did, but it’s gone.” He slung the gun and stood up. The rest followed suit.

“You seeing things Tiskey?” His sister joked. She was obviously worried. Trying to keep things lightened up perhaps.

“Traveler, go ahead, we will cover as best we can. If he says there was something there I believe him.” Gunnar slipped up beside the entryway and the siblings stepped up to the other side. Tisket took the forward position as his sisters shotgun would be of no use at such a distance if anything showed. Tisket glanced at those pistols and noticed an engraving.

“Your pistols have names, Gunnar?” Tisket asked, an odd time to do so. He kind of kissed the top of one. That was surprisingly silly of him, and hard to pull off with a beak.

“They sure do. This here is Broken Deal, and the fun one is Hard Bargain. Now get yer eyes forward.” He really did seem to be taking some delight in the intensity of this. How could he possibly be enjoying this? Traveler could not fully understand that and strode forth through the door into the open room. A long immaculate carpet ran up both the side stairs to the top. Off to the sides were balconies with rounded front portions and seats inside them. This must have served as some kind of performance viewing room or some similar function.

One would have a very good view from all three balconies or atop the space where the stairs ran spiraling up towards. There were several doors up there that lead to who knows where. The library was indeed vast. There was a little hole right through the roof above and some debris on the floor, but nothing was severely damaged save for an indent in the floor where heavy ceiling material landed ages ago. It looked clear so she headed for the stairs and halted. There was a door on this floor centrally between them. No. No! What was that feeling?

Multiple hostile tags appeared on the display as the door set between the stairs opened inwards, creaking terribly in a disturbing manner. At the same time one of the doors above opened as well. Stepping forth from the one directly in front of her was a terror that sent her scrambling backwards, slipping slightly on the ancient flooring. No. No. Not again.

“Boo.” To her horror out stepped her parents murderer once more. Why here? How? Some far off sound like chanting seemed to softly echo into the room. What in the world?

Above, some sinister unseen force was present. It could be felt like a splash of cold water across the muzzle to wake one from a dead sleep. In the dimness of the shadows there stood what she assumed to be a pony, barely distinguishable against the gloom. How’d he get there? She saw nothing. The eyeless pony took a step forward and Traveler went to flee.

“Do stay awhile and listen.” A creepy voice. She went to run. Her companions went to aim weapons into the room but he hit a button to his side and a glass panel slammed down.

“What the?” Gunnar was hammering on the glass and stepped aside. She could see them through it trying to break in. What was it made of? It looked like thin glass but they weren’t even scratching it. Tasket fired the shotgun at it and fell to the floor. Did the pellets bounce back and injure her? No. Her companions were now separated from her and one was injured. Traveler felt her heartbeat increasing as she spun to face this maniacal pony for the third time and much too soon. There he stood, only the gulf of this empty room between them.

“You!” She yelled, her voice booming over the suit amp throughout the room. This chamber acoustics reverberated. Instantly she’d found herself in a dire situation. That pony could tear her apart in seconds if a single mistake was made. There was one thing in her favor this time. The suit was not fettered like last time. She could move at full speed and use full force if necessary. This was still fearful, terrifying. Why was he here? Who was above? Was that chanting she could hear somewhere beyond the doors up there? No time to think about it.

“Yes, me. Time to die little filly.” Why was he like this? Every single thing he said was intended to hurt or confuse. Ignore him. The real feeling of true danger was above, but he was still standing right in front. An affront to reality right there.

“Don’t make me fight you, please just let us leave. We will go right now.” Traveler was glad he could not see her trembling within the confines of Moonlight. He would not let them go. She was certain of that, but must try. He turned to look up towards the odd obscured pony.

“Shall I kill her now, Boss?” He asked. Boss? That was Boss right up there!

“You’re Boss!?” Traveler yelped. The pony above just glowered in response to that?

“You’re an idiot, Reaver. This mewling filly is who caused you so much trouble? Maybe I should have hired her to do your job instead.” Reaver grimaced. Reaver? That was his name? He slowly turned his gaze such as it was back to her. That was horrifying in some manner.

“But, Boss..” Reaver was interrupted by Boss immediately.

“Must you be so worthless? Finish her off right now. Fail me yet again and I am done with you.” Boss voice was strong, deep and threatening in some way that sent chills throughout her. Two extra friendly markers flickered in and out of the suit display again. What was going on with that now? This would be the absolute worst possible time for the suit systems to stop working properly. Every word was making her feel more angry? That voice. Something about it engendered more and more anger. She had to calm down. Something was wrong with this.

He was surely going to attack any second, but something truly unexpected occurred.

“It appears we have more guests to entertain.” Boss stated, sounding as if bored while two ponies entered nearly at the same time from the other opposing side doors of the room. One was a blue pony with crossed lightning bolts adorning his flanks. It can’t be. Those heavy clanking steps, that glaring white armor. It is, it must be.

“Boss, I finally caught up, murderer!” The blue pony seethed. The other stood silent.

“Oh for..” Reaver stepped to the exact center of the room and stamped down hard, resultantly a flickering white barrier shot up around most of the central portion of it and blocked both stairs up. Traveler and Reaver were alone within. The pony in blazing white armor spoke.

“Traveler, that is an alchemical deadrune trap. So much as touch the walls and you will die instantly. Be careful.” He spoke gravely. She knew that voice. He really was alive, and found her a minute too late. That was Magnificent. His armor looked amazingly imposing when clean.

That crest on the front proved it. It was definitely what she saw blackened once before. He looked up the now blocked stairs. How could Magnificent be so calm?

“Everypony halt. Boss, I presume. Stop this or things are certainly going to get ugly, and I would much rather not scuff up my armor again.” He said this calmly and cooly. The blue pony she did not recognize was looking back and forth between them all, holding still. He’d heard that the barrier was terrifically deadly as well. His expression looked very angry, wildly.

Boss, if that really was him hidden in the dark, raised his muzzle as if to contemplate the roof. It was so difficult to make him out up there when he slowly looked down at whoever this blue pony was. His presence felt unnatural, cold somehow. Unnatural.

“I see you’ve run into one of the good doctors pets. I can smell it on you.” The blue one stood as if transfixed. Boss voice alone was so angering, it had to be some kind of trick. He ceased paying any attention to him and turned his gaze upon the blaze white armor.

At least all this halted Reaver for the moment whose attention turned away from Traveler. What should she do? This might be an opportunity to strike. No. He’d said for everyone to stop, she knew he wouldn’t have said it if there was anything she should be doing at this moment. Instead she turned to look back at the odd glass partition that slammed down. Tasket was standing up. The reflected pellets must have lost momentum and merely hurt her.

“Oh Thank goodness.” Traveler whispered to herself and quietly looked back to Reaver.

Tasket looked shaky, but was at least alive. However long that might last could be another story. Boss was in no hurry as he looked over the crest on that white armor.

“Why, that speech pattern, that armor.. I don’t need any special powers to tell. Is that you, General Magnificent?” He intoned as if amused. What? He knew his name? How? That could not possibly be. Tasket kept quiet for now, hoping Reaver might forget about her entirely. She knew that was highly unlikely, but anything in a desperate moment such as this.

Her companions behind the glass could just barely make out what was being said. Even were they to find a way into the room now, the barrier would prevent them from rendering any assistance. They were obviously trying to figure a way in, but it was fruitless. She didn’t want them to hurt themselves more in any attempt to do so. She waved back at them to stay there. Not wanting to take her attention off this most dangerous opponent for too long. She knew how very dangerous he really was from all previous encounters with him. But what to do?

Magnificent raised an armored hoof and pointed straight up at that strangely difficult to see pony.

“Two can play that game. I know who you are, Reveille. Old friend.” Friend? It almost sounded like an accusation. Who? What was he talking about? What little she could make out of Boss expression changed the second he said it. The blue pony spoke.

“Who are you, are you working with these horrible ponies!?” He was seriously upset.

“Silence, foal.” did Boss voice alone just push him back when that happened? He stood and the blue pony fell totally silent, taking a step back towards the door he entered from. That action alone felt like something huge was happening. Why did that feel important? All Boss did was stand up. He could not possibly project that kind of impression from there, could he? Reaver raptly eyed Magnificent. This made no sense to her. He could not possibly know him?

“So, you’ve figured out my secret have you? However did you manage such a feat?” Boss or whatever his name asked almost mockingly, as if it were just some joke of a nature Traveler could not understand. The question was answered without hesitation.

“I ran across a rather upset unicorn who happened to be dragging one of your voice logs around. I gave her a decent sum to part with it and came looking for you when I realized you still live. I didn’t expect to find you so soon.” Magnificent waited for a response slow in coming.

“And how is it, you, live? I should have known a pony as arrogant and self-centered as you would find a way to survive the war. Was it at others expense like usual? What allows you to stand here before me?” Boss tone was oddly calm now. What was up with this guy?

“I was going to ask you the same question. Shouldn't you be dead, Reveille?” The instant Magnificent said this Boss growled. Growling? He looked oddly torn.

“Stop calling me that.” Boss retorted. That was very strange, what did it matter?

“I am beginning to remember you, FRIEND. You haven’t the slightest idea you pompous dope. Where were you while I was imprisoned? No one came for me. They tortured me for years!” Why was Boss so agitated all of a sudden? He sneered, so hard to see in the shadows.

“I am very sorry, but you ran off into enemy territory of your own accord. I..I tried to have you found. Which is why I live, actually. There was evidence you really hammered them hard. We could not get to you.” Magnificent stammered?

“How typical. Ponies and their excuses. Are you really so dimwitted? Do you have any idea what they did to me!?” Boss was positively seething now. Magnificent looked down.

“You’re right. I don’t know. Please, tell me?” Magnificent sounded sad to Traveler as he always seemed to. Was she the only one noticing how tinged his speech really was with it?

“You want to know so badly, fine. I shall regale you with horror.” Boss sat down at the top of the stairs. Why did that single action seem powerful all by itself? It wasn’t even important.

"Hah. It is to laugh. A simple tale in truth. At some point I finally came to my senses, and wandered this scorched worthless land. Eventually I took a mate, tried to lead some kind of a life. Then we had a son. I thought I felt some joy in that. What a cruel joke. Once thinking I could continue to delude myself this way, but then I came to realize I cannot die and they most certainly could.” Boss both appeared calm and angry at once somehow. What was he saying? He cannot die? That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? This was a horrible story nonetheless.

“She forced herself to live just short a hundred wonderful years with me, my poor darling. I thought I could find a way to keep her alive as myself, I did not. Finally, she expired, leaving me here! I could spend entire lifetimes with her, but not her with me, and then she was gone! It is all part of the lie this world still purveys and I shall fix it." Boss was positively livid as he finished. Fix the world? His mood swung between completely absolute calm and outright baffling anger. Saying anything to him was dangerous. She could almost feel it all around.

Something was missing from that story. How was any of this possible? Did he also survive in a stasis pod or whatever it was called? No, that wouldn’t make sense either. Did anything ever? Reaver was still paying her no attention at all. He must not imagine she was capable of finding a way out of this barrier. He was probably correct. Traveler was having great difficulty not giving into anger with every word Boss spoke. If she did, it might prove her end in itself. Winding up fighting in a blind rage here especially would easily get her killed.

“Are you saying you’re immortal, you trying to be a god?” Magnificent was probably thinking the same thing. Something was not being said. Just what that might be was evasive.

“A god? How small-minded of you. I already am one. What I seek is so much more.” Boss response was once again calm, almost otherworldly in itself. What happened to him? When he was calm he sounded like just any other pony one might meet roaming.

“What do you really want, Boss? Why cause pain and harm?” Magnificent pushed.

“It is irrelevant. Nothing I do here has any meaning whatsoever, and neither do your actions. This abominal existence means nothing and I would end it, for I have already trod the shore eternal and found it lacking. I sought a way to die and having found no way to cross the great rainbow bridge, I shall do something far greater. Having returned from the bridge I will grant you this one mercy, a swift and painless death if you so choose.” Was Boss serious? That was hardly an appealing offer in any way she could imagine. Great rainbow bridge? Huh?

“I will even give the same to your associates there. Just say yes and be done with it.” Boss gave a slow wicked grin, made worse by the fact he was so hidden in shadow.

“I just got here so I’d rather not. Just let us all go and we will not trouble you further.” Magnificent was clearly trying to get them all out of this horrible situation they’d all suddenly found themselves in. That odd quiet murmuring chant from somewhere could still be heard. What was that? Traveler was certain it was there now. Who was doing it?

To her it sounded song-like, creepy and disturbing. As she focused on it while Boss spoke to Magnificent, she could just barely make it out:

Maishi kuinye fuma

Onil formea konu

Takahea kiuma cilt

Insi la'i fuoma

Ekayna orfee

Lunsae kanee

Iae kator

What was that? She’d never heard of anything like it. Why would anybody be singing or chanting or whatever it was? This whole time she’d been trying to think of some way to get out of this barrier. The only real possibility was straight up through the roof but that was not really an option. Flying was unfortunately beyond the capabilities of even that shiny white suit of armor Magnificent wore, she was quite certain. Any moment now she would have to fight in this space. Traveler judged there to be enough room to maneuver if she made exactly zero mistakes.

Was Magnificent just stalling? Was he up to something? Boss looked slightly amused of all things. He was still nearly impossible to see up there, the shadows keeping him hidden from view were just scattered enough to see his muzzle and expression and a vague portion of his eyes. This was frightening in the extreme. Something was so incorrect about it all.

“We were friends once. In honor of that, please don’t make us fight you, Reveille.” Magnificent was saying.

Boss growled at that name again. Why?

“Stop , stop calling me that! That worthless foal is long dead, dead! That name means nothing to me now. That pony died a very long time ago! He is dead! A dead pony worthless of memory or value.” Boss was sounding more and more vehement about that, but why? A name?

"For somepony who doesn’t care methinks the pony dost protest too much.” Magnificent responded, sounding confident of his assessment.

“I am beginning to remember why I found you so irritating, Mags old friend. You are no better than the rest. This back and forth becomes irksome. Reaver, destroy her and then all the rest including him.” He commanded. Oh no. Here he comes. Reaver turned directly to face her. Why did this have to be? She no longer even wanted to kill this pony, or thing, or whatever he might really be. She’d thought for months mostly about punishing him only to actually run up against him on more than one occasion. There was no escaping this time.

“Nowhere to run, little girl.” There he went again. Deriding and sounding insulting towards her. What did she ever do to him he didn’t deserve? He’d killed her parents and probably a lot of other ponies without the slightest shred of mercy or care.

“Reaver, even after all you have done I do not want to kill you. Stop this now and we will just leave, I promise.” Traveler was hoping against hope he would say yes. Of course, he would not.

“Spineless cowards deserve no quarter. There is no escape for you this time. Prepare for annihilation.” Reaver’s eyeless gaze was deep, empty and piercing at the same time. Traveler thought over every piece of advice she could recall and played on the slightest gamble.

“Reaver, get something straight. I’m not trapped in here with you. You are trapped in here, with me!” She postured menacingly as she could and faced him down. There was a dark laughter from above. Boss was laughing at what she said?

If there was any reading that eyeless face, she might imagine he looked surprised by her words, maybe even the merest hint at being fearful? It was highly difficult to tell. They stood a moment, staring each other down, if what he was doing could be called staring. As before, he held no weapons at all. She knew this was deceptive. He was himself a grave danger without them. She’d seen him throw a knife at her father with near-perfect accuracy. Obviously he was no stranger to using weapons. For some reason he’d since foregone using them at all.

“You are bluffing. Only an idiot would think to best me a second time. You got lucky and nothing more, little filly.” He raised a forehoof. Was that a gesture or was he getting ready to attack? Maybe she could play on his confidence in some way? He definitely thought he was going to kill her this time. That might very well be correct. If that was so then she must give it everything she had once more. The suit display as before found absolutely nothing unusual about him. That made no sense. He was definitely not ordinary. Why was it finding nothing?

The only thing it was offering was a reminder about blunt trauma weakness.

“There must be something else.” Traveler whispered to herself. The suit display did show one unusual thing. A pattern of arrows like when she found the shiny ball. Movements to follow? Was the suit suggesting a course of action? If that was truly what it meant she took it to be telling her to dance around him in a very close and dangerous pattern of three circles about the room, the last of which did not show an arrow, only an x. Did that mean she would die there?

She was tired of Reaver sounding so demeaning, and for all intents and purposes having destroyed her entire life she could only feel intense hatred for this miserable thing.

“Here I come, weakling.” Reaver coldly spoke and began trotting towards her as if without a care in the world. That was nothing more than flair. An attempt to make himself look even more terrifying as he came at her. His mane trailed and his tail was held high. A sign of confidence if she’d ever seen one. Hoping the suit was right, she got ready to move.

Following the suggested movements would be tricky to time and hard to pull off. A wrong move and he would easily skewer her even through the protective metal shell of her suit. It was not much use against him. She must time this perfectly against any move he may make, but what to do at the end? There was no way to tell how it would play out. Any second he would be right on her. Here he comes. Engaging in the hoof to hoof combat her father taught through many tough hours of training, she knocked his first punch aside and hopped past him.

Another swing and deflection as she skipped about. The suit was just agile enough to let her perform most of the moves she’d been taught. This was about engaging a stronger opponent and using their own strength against them. She didn’t have this option last time they fought. It would have been too sluggish and dangerous. Each glancing blow was hard enough to bang off her armor heavily as she moved about him. He was becoming enraged that every shot he took at her was bashed away at an angle. It was enough to prevent damage.

Him becoming more angry was in a way a good thing. Magnificent once told her a highly angered opponent is one prone to making more mistakes or taking useless risks. Traveler leaned into one of the hops enough to land on one forehoof only and spin, her hind leg clocked Reaver across the muzzle causing him to swing wide as he punched at her again. The contact definitely hurt him a little. It was the one thing that seemed to work. Direct physical hits. He bellowed in a way she did not imagine a pony able to do and kicked out at her. It just missed.

That was too close. She landed on all fours with a heavy clank. Halfway through the movements the suit indicated. As she’d hit each spot the arrow list became shorter. Boss, the blue pony and Magnificent were all watching this battle between them intently. Her friends were still stuck outside this room. Even if they were in here there would be little they could do to help. Don’t think about that right now. Follow the moves. She was focused intently on his position relative to her own. Why did the suit indicate to take these dangerous actions?

Moonlight was a bit more agile than she thought. Just slightly. It allowed for some moves she hadn’t really considered while wearing it before. Each circle came far too close to the walls of this deathly barrier. Traveler did not want to test if her armor might offer any protection against such a thing. Was it really more agile, or was she just getting better at utilizing it? No time to think about things as he came straight for her again. She was following a pattern and he had no such reservations. His intent was solely to end her life immediately.

“I do not want to give him that satisfaction. Not now. They are all counting on me not to die here.” She dove forward straight under Reaver, sweeping his legs out from under him. Only three moves left. What to DO at the end of them!? She spun to face him. He reared up and swung his forelegs down to smash at her which she dodged to the right. This positioned him extremely close to the barrier wall on the left side of the room. Was that the suits strategy? The look on his face, if he had eyes she imagined would be nothing but pure rage. Good.

Deftly she knocked aside him punching at her again and found herself with only one option. She locked her forelegs around him and his eyesockets themselves looked like they widened slightly in surprise. One move left. Only one. They were directly in front of the barrier wall with his back just up against it. He struggled in her grip, but even with his tremendous strength there was no time to get free and no leverage.

“What are you doing you foal!? You’ll kill us both!” He yelped.

“And?” Traveler could not give him any time and threw herself forward against him. They slammed into and through the horrible buzzing barrier almost in slow motion as it flickered and almost appeared to strain at contact with Reaver, it looked like its power flowed into him then burst like a million glowing yellowish bubbles only to dissipate into thin air as they crashed onto the floor together. Traveler fell off of him as he was sent slamming into the far outer wall of the room. Somehow, she was not dead. Quickly she scrambled to her hooves.

That was supposed to kill anypony instantly. What happened? The terrible thought if she was still alive, he might be as well arose. Traveler found herself standing in the opposite facing of how he landed from rolling. Almost right behind him, quickly looking back she was terrified to see he was already jerkily trying to get up again himself. Of all things most ironic she was in the perfect position to do this as he went to stand. This was incredibly ironic positioning in her mind. Now to take one more action. Just one.

“Stay down!” She yelled and bucked with all the suits strength directly into his groin with a horrible crunch again as his head was rammed right through the wall where he slumped.
He slid out of the hole made by his head in the wall and fell in a heap on the floor, twitching.

“Oh, come on!” Traveler gasped. He was groaning and muttering vilely. What the?

“What is wrong with your family!?” He moaned and rolled, rocking in pain. What?

“Stop it! Stop kicking me in the crotch you crazy …” Boss interjected from above.

“Reaver, you are a dolt. Get thee gone from my sight forever, son.” He hissed.

“Reaver is your son!? How could you do this to him!?” Traveler could not help but blurt.

“But, father..” Reaver was still rolling about in pain. She knew from previous experience that would not last too long. He’d completely healed from the same sort of injuries only a couple of months back. What would happen now? The barrier was down, but the glass door panel was still closed so only Magnificent and the unknown blue pony could assist. Maybe.

Would he assist? Who even was he? He definitely did not like Boss. Was something horrible done to him as well?

“Reaver is nothing more than a blundering disappointment of a foal whose very sight constantly reminds me of her and what I cannot have. It is lies, the entire world, all of it! Despite every gift I have given him he is worthless. No more, you miserable excuse for a pony. You have been beaten down by somepony that was already dead, and twice by this little lady here who can barely stand up to you. I have no further patience for someone so pathetic.” Boss explanation was cold and harsh for their own son.

He was the one who made him this way? Why would anypony do something like this to their own family? Why take his eyes? What else did he do to him?

“So you do have a son. I would congratulate you but it seems I am rather late to that party.” Magnificent was finally able to stride into the room proper and stood looking up at Boss atop the dim stairs. It was so nice to see him standing there. His presence alone in that blaze white armor was comforting, encouraging. The gleaming heavy armor really did suit his name.

It looked absolutely spectacular against the dull surroundings. Reaver was still groaning, laying against the wall where he fell, clutching at himself. For the moment he was harmless.

Boss started chuckling darkly. What now? This was not funny.

“What do you think is so funny about all this?” Traveler questioned, really wanting to understand why this was all happening. The pony up there, he was dangerous. It just oozed into the atmosphere around him, could be felt pressing in on all sides.

“Everything that happens here is meaningless. Absolutely devoid of any point whatsoever. I am going to change all that.” His tone was as dark as his visage, still so hidden away in the shadows up there. What did that mean?

“And how do you intend to do that? I would very much enjoy hearing an explanation.” Magnificent almost sounded angry in tone, but it was hard to tell. Much to their surprise he actually gave a real answer.

“There is nothing here for me and never will be again. There are only two options, of which I choose to alter the past.” This was said it like that was an easy feat. Simple. Change the past? That really was impossible.

Much to everyones shock, Magnificent said something extremely unexpected.

“Reveille, you IDIOT!” Reverberated through the huge room. Boss for once looked totally taken aback and stiffened.

“You dare? You dare!?” He uttered in a searing tone, practically shaking.

“Shut up and listen you moron.” Magnificent said quite emptily. For a second it looked as though Boss would leap straight down the stairs at him. Oh no. Wait. Instead, he raised a barely visible hoof and set it down again, remaining seated. He was unusually quiet compared to how he’d been acting thus far. His moods were just impossible to tell or follow as to why. This was very strange, it was almost as if he was of two minds on everything. Why was that?

“No. No. I know what you are doing. I was trained too you know. Seeking to make me act on impulse instead of logic, and here I thought you’d lost your edge. It seems time has not dimmed your wits one iota. Out with it then, what makes you so confident of my inability to perform this task?” Boss was impossible to read, his mood and actions were simply untellable.

“Simply put, Celestia told me a story. You should hear it.” Magnificent waited a moment, probably to gauge his reaction.

“Ah yes, our beloved princess, and one of our abject failures of a leader. What story of either could possibly be relevant to me?” Was almost spat. Boss just sat there as if nothing at all mattered. That sounded very laced with bitterness. What was all this?

“She tried. It cannot be done. It will never work. Go ahead, have it cast, I will even help you accomplish this if you are so intent on hurting yourself. We will be right back here in less than six months regardless.” Magnificent sounded awfully confident of this being a fact.

This story was sounding very very bad.

“What did she tell you and why? Explain. This better be good or you will learn new meaning to suffering.” Boss merely gestured and awaited more. Creepy.

“Seeing her kingdom falling apart and unable to bear it, she tried to manipulate time itself and change the past. Unfortunately, she found there is a very serious problem with this proposition.” Magnificent looked down, then back up.

“Sometime after the middle of the war, long after she left the throne, I asked for an audience since no one beside Luna laid eyes on her in months. By that time few even cared. I wanted to ask personally..why? Why were we still fighting, still dying after so long. An old and loyal solar guard who kept to his station all that time lead me to her personal study. We found her slumped across a desk, surrounded by scroll after scroll marked with the archives forbidden seal. Dark arcane secrets lay within them.” Magnificent took a deep breath before continuing.

“I asked directly if she was alright, to which she said only, no. I couldn’t stand seeing her like that. As if some horrible mirror image of herself worn to near death. I knew I needed to ask my question then or perhaps never get an answer. She bid the guard stay to hear it as well. I could not understand the purpose of this at first. What she told us right then hurt our very hearts. She’d cast spell after spell to shore up and empower an unearthed time spell. Maybe hundreds, thousands of times in a row.” His voice cracked, it could be heard even through the suit amp.

“At first, she thought it might be possible. Celestia tried to prevent the war. It worked, for a time. It broke out anyway. In less than a week it still happened. She tried again and again after being thrown back to the present. She poured more and more of her power into the effort, each time to fail. Do you see what was happening? She would change a thing, or everything, but in the end it cannot be stopped. The war was inevitable. It could never BE stopped.” Magnificent choked up. It must have been hard for him to hear or relay this information.

“That cannot be!” Boss insisted, sounding desperate for some reason.

“Don’t believe me? Go ask her yourself. Use whatever time spell, go to Canterlot. I will tell you precisely when to see her alone. Be warned, if you anger her she may not be able to kill or harm directly. However, you would face not Celestia, but the unbridled anger of the goddess of the sun. She can make you feel the full weight of it. I would not advise doing so.” Magnificent stood watching. This was so sad. After a very long silence Boss burst out laughing loudly.

It was incomprehensibly terrifying coming from him. Why was he laughing so madly like that? That laughter sounded menacing, terrible and..hopeless? He quieted as quickly.

“It seems you have saved me a great deal of wasted effort. I must thank you for that. I am given over to only one choice then. I have no alternative but to erase existence itself.” Boss exclaimed, like it was a foregone conclusion. What? Magnificent took a step back in shock.

“Please, do not trot down this darkened path further, my friend.” He sounded horrified.

“You are evil! We cannot let this stand.” He really was. Traveler was shivering in her armor suit, glad that it could not be seen as she tried to present a brave front towards this glaring threat to anything good that may be left in all the shattered world.

“Evil? I am not malicious, nor my actions. I merely am and must not be." Did Boss have no heart whatsoever? His intentions was sheer insanity. Could no argument of any sort sway him from this seeming delirium?

Reaver interjected, still moaning in pain and unable to stand. How durable was he and why? Such a tremendous beating would have killed anypony else near-instantly.

“That is not what you told me. You said we would rule the world!” Even he sounded frightened by the notion of all existence somehow just vanishing. Was it really possible?

“And you believed me. Did nothing ever sink into that thick skull of yours? I cannot believe you are my progeny, pathetic.” Why was Boss so set on these kinds of things?

Was he just out of his mind completely? This was some kind of insanity Traveler imagined could only stem from horrendous illness of the mind or spirit. He was utterly insane. What would be accomplished by destroying what little was left of the world? It was far worse than anything ever thought or brought to mind even considering all that was past.

“Join me, Mags. You may watch as all is laid waste and be the very last to disappear into the waiting abyss.” Boss was not simply insane, he was much too strong for that?

“I have already died twice, I think I will avoid that again for a good while.” Magnificent very sadly walked towards Traveler. He sounded so shaken, and very worn. She felt awful for him. This pony that was once his friend must have been so very different before.

"If what you say is true then you should want the same thing, join me. Help end it all. You will be afforded a front row seat to the end of all as existence is nullified. What say you?" Boss intonation was extremely deep, unsettling. Why did his mood keep switching so wildly?

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve seen how those beneath you fare.” Magnificent replied.

“Please, let us help you find a way to fix whatever has happened that precludes ending everything?” Magnificent was nearly begging now. It hurt so much to hear him like that.

“You..can’t. Nothing short of erasing existence will end me, and erase it I shall! Ponies and all else already failed. It must end as was meant to be!” Did he just hesitate for the shortest instant? It was too much for the old pony. Magnificent simply stood there, indecisive.

She’d never seen him like that. The blue pony finally spoke once more.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’ve heard enough to feel a rage inside the likes of which I have never known. He had my master executed! I hate to break it to you, whoever you all are, but your friend here may very well have already killed an entire city. His followers tried to kill me over and over!” He nearly hissed when he said friend. Followers? Not good. Not good at all. A whole city? Why? She could not stand any more of this. Boss must be stopped.

“Boss, enough. We will not let you do this!” Traveler already felt he was a greater threat, but until this moment there was no idea of how insurmountable he would actually prove to be. All she wanted was a book, to make things better. Instead, somehow, she was facing the end of all things. The scope of it was unbelievable. Could he even really cause such a thing?

“Ponies are so worthless. You will pay any price if you think it is free! I will fell the walls of eternity and all shall end as I assault the very heavens.” Boss was so cold. Why, just why?

“You say you’re a god, but you’re a pony too!” Traveler could feel that anger seeping in with every word he spoke. What was that? As before with the unnamed one they faced, Boss felt somehow wrong. His presence incorrect, corrupt. She could not understand the feeling.

“Childish. I am as far beyond them as they beyond you, little one. Wither afore me. I am the chosen avatar. My will is absolute, undeniable.” Boss was so condescending off and on. Why would he even want to do any of these things? Why cause so much pain and suffering?

“I shall carry forth destruction on swift wings and crumble the very foundations of this miserable existence until less than dust remains so I may vacate along with it.” Why was almost everything Boss said so horrifying and awful? What could have driven somepony who was once a friend to Magnificent of all ponies to such hideous ends?

“I know what you intend to do. I cannot allow this, Reveille.” Magnificent finally spoke again. Boss covered his face and hit the floor. Now what? He screeched.

He whined and writhed atop the steps. What is going on here? He stood once more.

“Sstop, stop calling me that! Stop! That pathetic weakling is dead! DEAD!” He spat and sputtered a moment. Suddenly, he was perfectly calm and quiet.

“Do your best to stop me, General Magnificent. As to you, Traveler, You have interfered with my plans not once, but thrice now. Congratulations, this makes you my only worthy adversary in nearly twofold centuries. Here is your..reward.” He hit a switch right behind him.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed reminiscing, enough prattling has gone on here. I hope you enjoy my little gift, Traveler.” Boss said as he backed out and the upper door he left through slammed tight. What was he talking about?

“Wait!” Magnificent and the blue pony went charging up the stairs after Boss at the same time. The chanting in the background ceased. The entire center beneath the stairs proved to be mechanical and whooshed slowly open to reveal a most horrifying sight. The most horrifying.

Traveler was left facing the most awful possible thing in all of existence. The cruelest possible of all jokes the universe could play on even the most wary. It must be.

“No. No! You didn’t! You can’t..It’s not possible…” Her blood ran cold as a shuffling shadow in the darkness let out a rasping hissy sound amounting to equestrian speech.

“Rrunn..Sweeeathearrt..”

God or Daemon? Perhaps they amount to the same.

Burden of Power

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

The Little Things

"I'm so sorry little guy. I think this is as far as I can get us." The teal-coated earth pony looked back to the rather small passenger on his back. The dusty looking breezie's eyes appeared half-glazed as he barely registered what was said, almost crying.

"Come on." The pony hammered on the ancient door controls, but the door would not budge in this grime-covered room. Having temporarily escaped their captors through nothing but chance, this unlikely pair were nearly resigned to being recaptured after having eluded their pursuers in this strange old place. The breezie seemed to snap out of it.

That little voice and its unusual inflection surprised him with the conviction behind it.

"No, we..have...to, don't..give in!" He waved at the comparatively enormous door. The pony grit his teeth and grunted.

"Oh..fine, listen. They are right behind and will find us any minute, if you really want out of here then you need to slow them down." He said quite factually. The breezie had some, but not perfect grasp of common equestrian tongue.

"What, me? I..I'm tiny!" Was the squeaky sounding reply.

"You're the one with the smart ideas, have another one while I get this door open!" The pony glanced at the breezie as he hovered out the door, then dropped on his back and worked at the wiring in the old door access panel.

"Me? What am I supposed to do?" The breezie looked around and mumbled to himself. There was a storage rack to the side of the dirty old hallway in whatever this place was. Neither had any idea where they actually were. This breezie just happened to get loose by mere accident and through much effort managed to prize open the door lock which was holding the pony prisoner. Finding he was finally able to fly for some reason helped a lot. Like the others, the pony he freed seemed gigantic to him. Luckily he'd been grateful enough to try and get them both out of here. Atop the storage rack was an old mechanical oil can. It was all he could think of. The four horrible ponies chasing after would be upon them in no time.

There was no clue why they were being held prisoner to begin with. All that could be told was this might be some kind of old war shelter of some variety. When first found this breezie' hopes of finding real help were immediately destroyed as he was taken prisoner and kept confined in a ridiculously small jar that felt like it nearly crushed his wings. Were they just being cruel for the fun of it? They were coming.

"Boss will have us killed if he finds out two prisoners got loose in here!" One of the oddly awful looking ponies was saying. They were heavily armed, would this even do anything? It was only a one in a million chance it could help.

The poor little breezie struggled to shove back against the comparatively hefty oil can, it slowly budged towards the edge of the shelf. He only intended it to be a distraction. With a final heave the most ludicrous chain of events was set off as the can, still with some old oily leftovers within it, fell by luck of timing directly on the lead ponies head causing him to swing his weapon wide and knock the one beside him onto the floor unconscious. The same moment the sludgy residue within the ancient can proved so slippery the third fell slamming his head into the floor, causing him to fire a wild shot that ricocheted directly down into the slushy mess to spark and ignite a puff of flames which made the fourth pony jump forward only to smash into the doors frame.

At this instant the mostly off-green breezie flew over and onto the remaining conscious ponies face causing him to swat at and miss only to slip in the oil himself and crack his skull off the wall quite heavily. All four were rendered unconscious. The former prisoner slowly peeked out the door and his eyes widened in disbelief at seeing the four spreadeagled on the floor, completely out of it as the huffing breezie looked up at him. Utterly amazed by this accomplishment he could only stare in wonderment for a moment. He took a deep breath.

"Little guy..you did all this?" He said almost warily, it was quite silly truly. The breezie waved both forelegs around.

"Breezies strong!" He said, not really explaining the situation and looking quite proud of himself. The pony was practically dumbfounded by all of this. This little one managed to take out four fully grown and heavily armed ponies all by himself? Anyone would take pause. This was shocking. Almost unbelievable.

"No kidding little guy..remind me not to get on your bad side!" He said, and actually meaning it. Removing their weapons to take with him he set about finding a means of binding them so they could not go get help. Some old frayed cables and wires laying about proved useful to this end. There were others searching still though. They had to get out of here.

Those four would live. As much as he would like to just end their lives for holding him prisoner there was no time to bother. Besides, as he understood it their leader whoever he was would likely punish them severely anyway for their failure to capture them. Setting about working on this ancient doors wiring once more it finally and shudderingly gave way, leaving them an avenue of escape at last. This place whatever it was proved to be surprisingly large, it proved to be their only real advantage as they dodged and hid from the patrols seeking to recapture them. They'd got lucky. Hurriedly exiting he spoke.

"Little guy, I don't know where we are. All we can do is run and hope. It's the best I can do." He said gravely.

The breezie clinging to his mane gave a couple of tiny pats on the neck as they scurried away from this place.

Well now, maybe you shouldn't go underestimating the small things.

Strangled Forest

Hopeful wandering hearts once traversed this great country end to end, top to bottom. Above the very sky itself the great pony races asserted control over all and hoped to bring camaraderie, friendship, with them to every other given time. Even that which is below ground became their domain. Each hoofstep forward, every leap in magical learning and increasing skill propelled them like some unstoppable juggernaut of old legend. Nearly coming to hold a reputation themselves of legend during their own lifetimes. Almost. Not quite. One nugget, a single grain of doubt remained somewhere, just enough to send them toppling given the right push. Pushed they were, right to the brink and over. Then it all went sideways.

One could traverse this whole country in relative safety even during the war years, for a while at least. Knowing your enemy is said to be tantamount to victory. The ponies, did not know the zebra. Before it came to war, they barely asked. Then in want of knowing, they could learn little. Certainly not enough to know them, not in truth. Absolutely not enough to understand how far they would go. Not even the ministry mares themselves had a grip on this type of understanding. This lack of understanding would grow worse as war raged on and on, further out of control with every passing year. Yet, for the longest time it was nearly an unseen war. Battles were always fought by somepony else. Until it was your turn.

When it finally began to be something which the public could palpably feel, the losses stung deeply. The most positive images of imminent victory were projected everywhere, the truth lost, except on those who knew it. Keep your head down and your eyes open, it will all be over soon. Suspicion was rife in this atmosphere, and it was not always wrong. This pall of sadness and life not feeling quite right hung over the whole of the world. Equestria is but a single albeit large country, to have this magnified across it all was impressive in its own right. They held nearly all the power, and it was mighty hard to hold onto that. Imagining what seemed a minor squabble would be amplified in magnitude time and again was unthinkable to any.

They weren't wrong. It would be over soon. Very soon. Missing families, indeed entire communities failing to be there any longer was a pain too far. That was something that could not be hidden from the public view no matter how many misleading or outright false statements were issued or information control exerted. Our army cannot lose. We are winning. It is hard right now, but wait for tomorrow! Brimming with opportunity and happiness for all when we can put this all behind us. A brighter, better future awaits! How unfortunate much of this was simply not true from the get-go. The country fell sullen, tired and weak from warfare and diminished population. Nearing the wars end, things somehow got worse.

Believing victory was truly just around the corner and about to be well in-hoof, such information control was exerted more than ever. This strict tightening was nearly too much on its own. Together with all the errors society in general was committing to and the mistakes made in putting a lid on it all, the erosion of goodwill towards the royalty was becoming an issue all its own. Half expecting an open revolt should not have been something real. How could that possibly be a thing now? They were about to win, victory was right there. Everything would be just fine if the war would end already. Get there, and all this would be over. Sometimes harsh reality comes flooding in against the will of all. It never waits forever.

Sometimes the foundations of things starts with a very small step. An inestimable gamble on how it will all turn out taken up in hope, and hope is exactly what everypony was lacking. Some feeling of perverse dread was slowly consuming the entire country. Something just was not quite right. Maybe they felt some dim cry of warning from within, or perhaps it was nothing. Just a silly feeling felt by those doing everything in their power to put a stop to this. All things start somewhere, somehow. All things terrible and horrible, or great and wonderful. They all start with that single motion, word, action. Something to spur what will be the future into action. Sometimes it goes nowhere whatsoever. Plans still get made.

Scootaloo made many such plans. Many of which were enacted towards wars end. Many plans for many possibilities, and many more that never were. Many plans to help, plans to hinder and many more. Day after day spent setting up, planning. Most or all of which she would never know how or if they ever began or ended. She cared more than others knew. Cared more about the actions being taken. Cared more about what might happen, what could happen if things went the wrong way. Out of all others, she knew for certain just how far things could go. How far things already went. Just how much farther it was possible to go screaming into the dark that may lay ahead. Years before, she started something else:

They were late but that was to be expected when engaging in subterfuge. Sometimes things needed to be conveyed in secret, personally. There were those willing to do things that were not seen to be in the best interests of all others. They could could cause serious trouble if they ever discovered what this was all about. Finally, they arrived. Her dear friends. The ones who actually started this particular endeavor whether they quite knew it or not. Sometimes it was like this whole business had swallowed them whole and gave precious little opportunity for time together that wouldn't be viewed with suspicion. Paranoia was rampant nowadays. It might not be wrong to feel that way, and she had reason to think so as well.

"Are you certain about this, Scootaloo? This whole thing sounds mighty dangerous. Ya'll think maybe Dash could h.." The look on her face as Apple Bloom said this stopped her sentence. She looked nearly angry towards them both. Sweetie Belle just had a sad expression on her face, just standing there. It felt hurtful just to see her that way.

"Please don't look at us like that, please?" Sweetie Belle said quite shyly. The expression Scootaloo held softened.

"Yes yes, I know what I'm doing. It will be right here." She waved at a map she'd brought along.

"She cannot help me with this, and she doesn't know I'm doing this. Almost no one does." She explained.

"Is this really that important to ya? Think about what yer doing, if they ever.." Apple Bloom spoke up.

"And what about what you're doing, you think I don't know?" Scootaloo said coarsely, almost bristling at them.

"Whoa now, hold it hooold it!" Bloom admonished. Time to slow things down.

"We're your friends. I know we should support this, specially if it might help or even if it is meaningless in the end, al'right?' She'd slipped into drawling speech a bit in frustration then finished by stamping a hoof on the floor of their secretive meeting place. At least it was safe to speak openly to each other in this choice location they'd scouted out.

"Meaningless, what do you mean meaningless!?" Scootaloo looked hurt.

"No no no. Not like that. I just..hope we don't need it, okay?" Bloom looked terribly sad now, along with Belle.

"Oh you two stop looking like that. You are both doing the same thing I am, okay? Really. So I'm going to do this. Will you help me, please help me?" Scootaloo almost sounded to be begging her friends for help now, nearly tearing up.

"Yes, yes I will. Ya know it's gonna be hard. I can't just give ya all of that stuff you know, Scoots." Hearing her name said that friendly and familiar way perked her ears up and she almost looked like she was going to cry in a happy way.

"Hay..now. Okay. This will be really hard to keep a secret. Ya'll will need a lot of materials and you really can't tell anypony at all? No one to help?" She asked Scootaloo directly. Shaking her head in response.

"I know a way." Sweetie Belle chimed in and leaned over to whisper something to Bloom. An almost evil gleam hinted in her eyes at hearing whatever she said. This should be good.

"What, what is it?" Scootaloo was intrigued now.

"Don't ya worry. I think we got something that will help you out." She whispered in her ear in turn.

"Yes!" Scootaloo jumped.

"Ow ma ear." Bloom said.

"Oh, heh..sorry about that." Scootaloo said, sounding a whole bunch happier at least for the moment.

"We don't get together enough anymore. This cloak and dagger stuff isn't for me. Why did things get like this?" Sweetie Bell demurely informed and asked genuinely. Each knew things were truly bad out there, worse than most realized.

"It's alright. We're doing our best you know." Scootaloo sounded much more at ease at last.

"It's going to take years, a lot of them. Is there even a point trying to do this?" Bloom asked her long-time friends.

"Of course! If it works out it will be a great thing, right?" She said, much more upbeat than during this whole meeting.

"How are you going to keep this one secret? It's kinda..big." Sweetie inquired. Hiding something this big was hard.

"That place is way out there. I will just quietly have some friendly pegasi leave random cloud cover in that area and nopony will even know the difference unless they were right up against it." That was all she would say about her plans.

"Well okay. Since we're all here anyway, want to grab some dinner? Makes good cover, and I'm hungry." Sweetie asked.

"Yeah, it's been too long. Let's talk about some normal stuff for a change, okay? Just normal." Scootaloo asked of them.

"Yeah normal stuff. Haha. Where ya wanna eat?" Bloom suggested a few places and they picked a quiet restaurant, not out of sight enough to invite suspicion, but enough to discourage prying eyes getting too curious. It was a nice time rarely had where they could simply relax and be the friends they were. There were plenty of normal and even silly things to talk about. How someone pranked one of the engineers working under Bloom with liquid soap hidden in an electrical outlet. How Sweetie was actually managing to have some fun as head of P.R.. Normal things. Not enough of them going around.

Normal, everyday, things. The sort of things everyone takes for granted most of the time. A cup of orange juice is nothing significant to someone who has plenty of orange juice available on a daily basis. How sometimes they could still sneak in a day to be lazy despite it all. When things were..better. Far better. The sort of things no one dwells on in anything more than a passing way. Why the conversation turned to such mundane things as what tasted good was a symbol of times seemingly out of reach any longer. Times were tough, everything was so hard now. It really was. Too much work to do and not enough time to do it in. Work that was not always in line with apparent goals. Goals that were wide-ranging and difficult to accomplish.

Other work went on for years. Hidden work. Quiet work. Unseen work. Performed by subterfuge and simplicity. Simple by moving a small bit of cargo here and there. Manipulating a manifest once in a rare while. On the whole it lead to something big. Larger than anypony would think possible. A project so large it hid in plain sight without a soul chancing to notice it. It was still unfinished four years later. Plain sight is often the best place to hide things. It invites no second looks, conveys nothing to be out of the ordinary. Something is simply there for all to see, but no one sees it because who would be silly enough to do that? Put something they wish to hide right out in the open? Nonsense. Work continued on and on.

They met once in a long while, when it was even possible to do without arousing more than cursory suspicion.

"Hows..the thing going?" Sweetie Belle was genuinely curious all these years later. Four years she thought, maybe more.

"The..thing is still not done. It's going..okay, though." Scootaloo said, looking a little out of sorts and winced slightly.

"Training that hard?" Apple Bloom interrupted as she stepped out of a dark alley, sort of creepy looking in shadow.

"Sheesh, quite an entrance there. Yes, it is a challenge after all." Scootaloo explained and then pointed towards a couple fillies and a colt approaching her.

"Looking at them makes me feel..sad." Scootaloo waved a hoof at the three young ones nearly swirling about her. Young Crusader members. Special ones. Picked for very specific reasons by her.

"They're just like us..like we were. I mean.." Scootaloo trailed off a bit sadly.

"It's alright. We all miss how things were, right Bloom?" Sweetie Belle said demurely. She was wearing some kind of attention grabbing dress that rode quite low on her flanks, sweeping back and then down her tail to accent.

"Thats quite an outfit you've got on, business related?" Scootaloo asked, squinting a bit at the terribly bright coloring.

"Yes, well I am head of public relations after all.." She was quite modest about it.

"Ya sure are, and for good reason. You're also one of the best singers there is!.." Bloom halted a second.

"We all got into this thing together, remember? This is still what we want to do, right? It is still our business to go in the direction we want." Apple Bloom wanted to punctuate a certain issue. A slight rift had grown between them all despite their best efforts. Some things going on were not all well agreed upon by all three. The other trio here were playing amongst themselves, waiting on them. It was a reminder that things were not always so grim and times really were good once.

"Ahem, these three, huh? Gotta be more than that?" Bloom genuinely wanted to know what was up with this.

"They're the only ones right here anyway. Maybe a few others elsewhere. We will see. I feel bad for them, really bad. They're all alone.." She looked at the young ones running about, playing a game as they waited for her.

"Alright you three, come here." They zipped over in front of them and stood practically at attention cutely.

"You know where to go, and what to do if it happens?" Scootaloo said in a tone of seriousness. All three nodded.

"We know!" They all said at once. It reminded of younger days, carefree days with her friends.

"Are..are you three sure? You don't have to do this for us." Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom all looked at their young charges. It was a rare occasion for them to be together at all anymore, but this was of utmost importance now.

"You created the Crusaders! Of course we will do what you ask." One of the little ones stated enthusiastically. An energetic colt and two fillies circled about them, all wearing trailing crusader capes. One wore a wide-brimmed hat with a long red feather in it, her greenish ears poking up through the slip-slots. The other younger filly looked a little bit concerned about this, bordering on scared. The Crusaders, this was not what the group was supposed to be for. So young. Too young.

"Were we ever this young, and adorable?" Sweetie asked, a little forlornly. The others just smiled a little. This was a bad idea. A terrible one in fact. A horribly bad idea. This was the kind of thing no one ever thought to do or should do.

"What little my contacts can tell me say it might already be too late. What choice is there? None of us can get away long enough without too much suspicion, and there is nopony else we can really trust with it." Scootaloo said, sounding sad. They just nodded in response. She motioned for the machine accompanying them to step forth. A very dull bronze-colored pony-like thing it was. Not really menacing at all like most of the other robots in use. It looked..nice. It wore a feather crest helmet.

"This is Ticky, an old royal guard marcher escort machine. I..borrowed him from storage. Nopony will miss it anyway. He will be ready and waiting, you know where right?" She asked, the three little ones said yes together. It was cute.

"We get to have that!?" They were very excited by it. If only things weren't becoming so dire. They were so young.

"I know this must seem amazing, but listen. This is very important. This machine is not a toy, it will do whatever it can to protect you from harm and get you where you will be heading. If you ever get the signal, you go get him and then run fast as you can, okay?" She did not like asking this of children, but they were war orphans and knew pain already. They agreed.

"We should not be asking this of'em, it ain't right." Apple Bloom said as they prepared to part once more.

"They keep saying children are our future. Maybe they are." Scootaloo tersely said. It didn't sound right either.

"It's been really nice seeing you again. We have all been so busy, but I have to get back to practice." It almost sounded like she didn't want to bother with it anymore. Tired and almost weak sounding.

"Yah aren't giving up, are ya?" Bloom decided to just ask. She looked between her two best friends.

"No, of course not. I'm just sorry things have got like this. Maybe it will be okay." She ran off hurriedly after goodbyes.

"We better go, too. Meeting in secret like this could be taken the wrong way and used against us if anypony found out." She and Sweetie Belle hugged and went their separate ways, none able to know at this moment that they would never see each other again. Sweetie turned and spoke to the young ones once more. she had to make sure.

"This is super secret Crusader business, alright? Tell no one about it, okay?" She was concerned for them. They were so young she was afraid they might not understand how serious this really was, but was taken a little aback by their response.

"We are Crusaders. We have to try!" The little reddish colt in the cape said boldly. The other two slid up beside him.

"Miss Belle? This is for daddy. This..this will help, right? Help others keep their daddy?" She almost burst into tears as the youngest of the two fillies said this to her. It was heartbreaking. A rending pain inside, added to others.

"Y..yes! Maybe. Do your best. Go on for now, don't worry about it unless the time comes." She hated just leaving them like this, but had work to do. Work that kept her from pretty much everything else. It was impossible to protect everyone. It could only be hoped the decisions that were made would lead to a peaceful outcome. As distant a thing as that seemed for so many years now. Soon she would be many miles away from these three. Hopefully they wouldn't need to do anything.

Sweetie swept them all up in a big hug for a long moment, the kind kids are quite embarrassed by, then said her goodbyes and was soon gone from sight as the children looked on.

"We have to get back anyway. Let's go!" The colt struck something approaching a heroic pose, pointing a hoof back down the street.

"Uh, it's just an orphanage." One of the fillies said, deflating his efforts to appear heroic rather quickly.

"Oh, let's just go." The other said and trotted off. He looked back at his cape then took off as well.

Some months later events took a rapid turn for the worse. Whatever drove decisions on their enemies side finally came to an irreversible one. Missiles, bombs and other weapons of ludicrous destructive power were unbelievably actually being used. What insanity was this? Where did the enemy come up with such power so suddenly? It didn't matter, it was happening. All that mattered in this moment is that the war reached its peak and this was the result. Not resounding victory, but defeat for everyone on both sides. A sickening defeat bought at too high a cost. An incalculable cost in which lives were lost instantly, or slowly and much too painfully. The true horrors of war brought right to their very doorsteps. It was over.

The signal to go came quite suddenly. They knew what to do, and no one would bother them anyway. They were just three young ponies running off after an alarm was sounded. Many took it as another false one. It was turning out not to be a drill. Others were frantically galloping about the city as they all headed to their meeting spot. They'd been told to hurry for their packs and gear then go straight for Ticky and leave the city immediately if it happened. It was a tall order, especially hard with ponies and all manner of other sorts panicking in the streets at the slowly dawning realization this was no drill, but death. This was terrible, horrifying. Death and destruction was heading straight for their grand city. A city about to fall.

They met at the location told to them, with full packs of canned food and canteens of water as instructed. Everything they might need for long travel. Ticky was left hidden here. Nearly in plain sight in an alleyway, a very old trick employed to hide things. Tarped over it was ignored and mostly left alone, save for one thing. At some point somepony must have randomly decided to actually look and tried to pry out it's large wind key, likely for the metal and caused some damage before giving up. Hopefully it would not be a serious problem. The colt wore a blue tunic and a hat as if a scarecrow.

"Hehee, you look silly!" The greenish filly wearing the wide-brim red hat said as they ran along a secret route.

A route given to them by their cohorts to aid more easily getting out of the city confines and escape detection by anypony else. Ticky was not exactly inconspicuous, and carried full locked saddlebags as well. They were well-prepared.

"I just got out of a school play when this happened!" He retorted. The other filly running alongside them wearing a nearly blazing white cape bordered in red was starting to huff heavily. They would have to slow down soon. At least one of them could ride atop Ticky at a time, this made travel a little easier. Surprisingly soon they were out of the city proper and heading along the outskirts, soon to be in wilderness. They'd been told what to, and what not to do, but this was scary.

It was just short of exhausting for ponies of this age to carry so much heavy gear and supplies, but they did know what to expect. They'd been working hard to become stronger, fitter at their groups founders request. Even so, they weren't quite as quick as they could've been on their hooves but it was just manageable.

"We follow that path over there." They were practically scurrying along, trying to make distance away from the city. It was very important to get away. She'd said so. Keep moving no matter what for as long as possible away from the city before stopping. It was so hard, but they kept moving.

Then..the distant booms came, and didn't stop seem to stop. Never ever look in their direction and keep moving. These Crusaders had a mission, given to them by their groups very founders. They were still children, despite tough lives there was nothing that could change that fact and they were now wandering towards a very distant destination. They were not the sort to be given places in the stables, not even Apple Bloom herself could do that for them as much as she may have wanted to. All three knew where to go, which direction to head. They'd been taught survival skills by Scoots herself when she could manage to slip away. Things like how to read a compass, and a map. Ticky was set to head towards their destination anyway.

"I'm scared.." The youngest of the three said to the other two.

"I don't blame ya. Don't think about it, alright? We are going somewhere safe, they promised. Just think about that instead, okay?" The colt felt he had to say something to her and that sounded right, he hoped.

"Okay.." She kind of squeaked out and her voice cracked. That was kind of..cute.

"We're together. That's good, right?" The other filly nuzzled at her comfortingly and smiled reassuringly. That seemed to be enough for now. An exceedingly long road lay ahead of them. Not even a road, but a given direction to follow.

"Think about happy things and keep walking. That's what Miss Scootaloo said." The colt said. All three were now quite tired after keeping going so long.

"I think we can stop for now." He said and they all practically dropped their gear. Packs and draped saddlebags alike. It was like feeling a ton lighter. They all wheezed and huffed raggedly. It was a rough start, but they were here and alive.

The distant rumbling banging stopped a while ago. It seemed like it had gone on forever. The real test lay ahead. Would they make it?

Main roads were something they'd been told to avoid, leaving only barely traversed paths and little used hiking trails to allow much free movement. Otherwise they were walking through forest and hill. They didn't encounter anypony else as they walked though they'd been told there may be some doing the exact same as them. This was not something those so young would generally be attempting to do. A lengthy walking trek like this was just not going to be easy on any of the trio even though they'd been preparing for a long while. They'd done everything, exercised to be in better shape, worked hard to learn how to forage, anything useful. Everything they might need, but they were still children tasked to do this. A difficult task.

The sort of task one would never wish upon those who should be growing up, leading untroubled lives unconcerned with any notions of pain, loss, war and all it brings. Instead, these three knew all that and more. At least one of them was young enough, perhaps, to not fully understand the implications of these things. The one they surely all knew, at least one of their parents was taken away by that very war. For these sorts, the other parent was generally lost to some other reason, leaving them with neither. Orphanages were not so common a thing before the outset of this conflict. Whatever was in store for these three would be rough from this moment on, and rough it was. It was so far away.

"I like Ticky." the filly with the wide-brimmed hat said, each huffing a little as they marched along. They were indeed still children despite preparing as much as possible for this.

"I think something's wrong with him. The key doesn't work quite right." The colt said. It was his turn go wind it back up this time. It just was not turning properly.

"I hope he's okay! He's fun to ride on." The other filly kind of chirped.

"I guess it's alright." The colt finished turning the key and they moved on.

Every three days Ticky required rewinding. The faster it moved, the quicker this time came up. Whoever tried to pry the key from the slot definitely caused something to grind inside, this was worrying but for now it was still working well enough. Out from the city they'd walked, having been told it would be dangerous or impossible to return to after leaving. They were a responsible trio, determined to do what they could. The one thing they were not told is that they might die if the world fell apart, exactly as happened. Their teacher just couldn't bring herself to tell them. What good would it do anyway? Is what she told herself before giving them this one direction, this mission. That's what she called it, a mission. They were proud to do it.

A Crusader mission. A real mission, given to them. Even a royal guard escort, sort of. Ticky seemed fine for now despite the key being worrying. The machines very presence emboldened them quite a bit, he was their protector after all.

"How come there aren't any other ponies out here? Or anything?" One of the fillies asked, more just thinking out loud.

"You saw what it was like back there. Maybe none of them knew to come this way?" The colt replied, but it was a bit worrying. Shouldn't somepony else have come out this way? There were supposed to be others they might meet, but so far there was no one. No one at all. It was quite lonely and disconcerting, especially for three lone children.

There was so much canned goods and water in the machines packs, and in their own. All the weight slowed them down a lot, especially being children as they were. A lone colt and two fillies left to fend for themselves as the world crumbled.

"Do we have to carry all this stuff? It's so heavy!" The yellowish filly wearing the now slightly less white cape complained.

"Remember what she said? Never abandon cans of food or clean water, never never never!" The colt reminded her. The group was drinking far more than eating anyway so food wouldn't become a problem for a while. Even at that, supplies dwindled day after day and on. To the point they could shift some of their own carried goods into Ticky's packs.

For a long time they walked, talked, played. Children always take time to play. It was better that they did. It broke up the monotony of walking. Even marveling at sights along the way soon became just a routine thing to pass by. They were young, but even their energetic nature was being diminished. Too much might have been asked of them, and even they were beginning to realize at some point there would be no food and water left. Maybe before they got to the place they were told to reach. Their mission might be in jeopardy, something they did not want to fail. Going back was not an option, and Ticky's key was throwing out ground bits of metal each time it needed rewinding now. This was not looking good.

"I don't like it. This like..gunk comes out every time we turn Ticky's rewinding key. It sounds bad like something is breaking inside. That has to be bad, right?" The tired colt said as they wandered not quite aimlessly forward, barely understanding where they were trying to reach. A safe place for them. That was what she said. Where it would be nice and comfy, and have lots of food and water just for them, and some others like them. If they could get there, friends should be waiting. That now felt like a big if. Ticky being damaged this way was not in the plan, definitely not.

"What's to like? We just keep going." One of the fillies said. Another day passed. Another. A problem arose.

"We've been walking forever! Absolutely forever. Are you sure we're reading the map right? I thought for certain we'd be a lot further along by now. We can't really only have made it that far, right!?" The filly with the hat asked the colt. He seemed confident about it though as he looked down, concerned. The worry was real. Somehow they were running out of water.

"Y..yeah. I think we are right here. We need to be.." He moved his hoof to point much further down across the map than felt possible. He was feeling upset, almost visibly showing it but trying to keep it in. He was supposed to be tough after all.

"It can't be! We have to be closer than that don't we?" She sounded extremely worried now. Long days passed.

Each day felt longer than the one before, and spirits slowly wound down.

"Can't we have just a little more?" The fillies both complained about their rationing.

"You know we can't. If we do there won't be enough. I..you can have mine. I'm not hungry anyway." The colt divided between them both what was left of his food and water ration for tonight. He was tough, he could take it.

"Are you sure? You don't have to.." The one in the white cape said but the other wolfed down the food and gulped the water. She very clearly needed it badly this time. Hopefully that would suffice. He knew he couldn't do that again.

There would only be enough if they were careful. The constant walking was beginning to hurt their hooves. This made for quite slow progress some days. The sorts of pains that come and go from overexertion. They'd never been taxed quite like this before despite trying to be ready for it. At the end of each day they found a spot to camp, make a fire and rest. Not making enough headway. They had an important mission to fulfill and truly wanted to succeed in doing so. There was something special to do in a special place when they finally got there. Important instructions to carry out if they could, they truly didn't want to disappoint. This meant something, they could do something really useful.

It'd been a long while ago now since the sky was closed. They were ignored during all of that, or never even seen by another pony or creature. Not a single pony nor anything else living was encountered since that frightening moment when it sounded like the world was being ripped apart behind them. Not even a bird. So quiet and still. A note of dull distant terror they tried their best to push out of mind, to ignore as if it were not a real thing happening. It was exciting when they started out. Now it was starting to become painful, clearly dangerous as they headed on and their supplies slowly seemed to disappear more and more by the day. Even following the strict teachings they'd been given, they were really running out now.

One day just seemed to blur into the next as each did their best to continue this harsh march to..whatever it was they supposed to be heading towards. It was a big place, that much was told but not much more except their instructions.

"It's too quiet. There's nothing in the sky, or on the ground. Nothing. No insects, nobody. Is that bad?" The youngest filly inquired. She even sounded so small and weak, he found himself feeling really bad for her.

"I don't know. Probably not. Don't worry about it, alright?" The colt tried to keep up a brave face in spite of it all. That's what being tough meant, right? Keep them going, get everypony there safely.

The packs were becoming disturbingly less heavy. By now, weeks had passed. Being so young they perhaps did not fully comprehend what really happened far behind them. Something big, something bad. One erupted into tears suddenly.

"Are you alright?" The other two didn't quite know what to do, having little experience with this kind of thing. The usually upbeat filly wearing the brimmed hat was near bawling for a bit, and finally quieted just a little to slightly settle down.

"We've been walking so long and my legs hurt and my back..and...I miss daddy!" She shook and cried as the other two huddled around her trying to be supportive, not knowing what to do or say. Ticky oddly moved in closely. Huh?

She looked at it's odd face as it lowered it's head to look directly in her eyes a little too closely and it's own began spinning in counter-clockwise circles. She couldn't help but giggle at the sight while sniffling. Up that close like that it looked terrifically silly. That helped. A lot. A mirthful moment to raise spirits. The three weren't aware the original intent of this machine was to escort dignitaries and provide some element of status at high society gatherings, as such it was designed to entertain as well as provide non-threatening security. A marvel of machinery in its own right, the outward appearance was fully intended to be unassuming, even disarming. The heavy winding mechanism was getting worse each time it was used.

"Miss Scootaloo said we should try not to, but I think we have to.. look for food and water. She did tell us how, but everything sort of feels wrong. You think we should?" The one wearing the hat said. The feather looked positively wilted by now. The color of all their belongings was dirtied and dulled by now. Each very carefully only used a very little bit of water each day as instructed for cleaning themselves up. Just enough to keep cleanly for avoiding problems that might pose. Washing clothes was out of the question. Now worn more as items of familiarity and comfort than out of necessity.

"I guess we better. There isn't much left is there?" The other said demurely, quietly. None felt like talking much.

Hours later as they searched a terrible further realization crept in upon them. There was nothing to find, eat or drink. The eldest filly suggested maybe tree leaves, tasted one and spit it out while making a bleck sound. The others laughed, then stopped.

"No, not from these trees. They're poison to equines like us, remember?" The colt stated, he almost felt like weeping but wouldn't show such a thing in front of them. That wasn't being tough. He'd been paying attention when they were taught and knew these were no good to eat. This was terrible.

"It's no good, there's nothing here. No grass, and the river is gone somehow? How can a whole river be gone? It's just gone!" The older filly sounded tired as she said that and her stomach growled, rumbling deeply.

"We have to keep moving until we find something. There has to be something." The colt almost blurted it in worry but stopped himself, trying to be calm. The fillies were becoming more and more despondent as their plight became worse. What supplies they did have left did not amount to much anymore. Someday soon, they would be utterly depleted. In their own way, each of them knew this was getting closer and rapidly. They'd taken to using tricks to stave off hunger and thirst.

Sucking on a button or pebble to keep the mouth hydrated by saliva. Biting down on a stick or other object to keep the mind thinking it's getting something more than it really is. These things wouldn't keep them going forever, especially lacking water. Food can be skipped for a fairly significant amount of time but water is needed in surprisingly large quantities even for the young. It almost seemed as if the water went faster and faster until very little remained. It was becoming disturbing to them all.

"I think the key is getting..harder to turn." The colt wheezed a bit after finishing this time.

By now, chunks of material were falling out each time the large key upon Ticky was turned, and harder to move. Though young they could tell eventually it would not move any longer and none of them knew how to fix what they'd come to feel as their protector and silent companion. They'd been walking a very long time. Physically strong was one thing, but they were indeed children, painful history or not. The mental strain of such a journey was not something they were prepared for. All three were becoming weary and more exhausted by the day. Even able to take turns riding Ticky was becoming such a routine it did not lift spirits. Once fun, it was now just another fact of life after disaster struck.

"There's nothing! All the plants are dying and nothing is edible anyway. There is no water anywhere. Nothing. I thought we were heading for a swamp! Aren't swamp's full of water!?" The cape wearing filly sounded angry about it all. They were all starting to notice Ticky was moving more slowly even when fully wound. Something was very wrong with the wonderful machine and they could do nothing about it. It being slower meant they were as well. The thought never crossed their minds to abandon it. If they even could abandon it. It might be the only thing that knew the right way to go now. The compass was proving unreliable. The colt didn't tell them about that yet. He didn't want to make them upset or worry even more.

"I want to go back, I want to go baaack!" It was the other filly crying this time. This trek was not fun anymore. Knowing where they were heading was not much of a comfort to three lost souls. So much crying, nearly screaming for a long time. Finally, he could take it no more and snapped. They were each a little too young for this, but what choice was there?

"Stop it. STOP IT!" He yelled at her which made her eyes go wide and back away from him. He felt bad immediately.

"I..I'm sorry..but..there's nothing to go back to, and you know it." He swallowed and turned away from her, tearing up himself. He didn't want to look silly in that way in front of them. He was the guy, supposed to be tough. It didn't help.

"Miss Scootaloo.." He went to say.

"Is gone! Like everyone else, she's gone you understand? Gone!" The other one rambled a bit and stopped suddenly.

"What are we doing? We're fighting. Why are we fighting?" The filly in the now far less than white cape said. They all knew a harsh thing now. A hard lesson fell in on them. They were completely alone and just a little less than helpless.

"We should keep moving. She said it will be safe there." He said quietly. After their outbursts at each other things just felt much more dangerous. There was really nothing out here but themselves. It was so far away still. Too far. Much too far.

"They all promised. They would not break a promise to us. We have to keep going. We are..here now, I think." He waved to the map then stuffed it in with the few remaining supplies. They really had gone a very long way, and it still wasn't enough to arrive at their destination.

"You think!?" The other two said in unison. He was upset now, too.

"Well..we might have a problem. Maybe." He said, a bit alarmingly to them.

"What do you mean a problem? Everything is a problem!" One of them sort of blurted out. He felt bad. Time to tell.

"No, look.." He put down the compass and it never settled, rotating perpetually. He felt better, telling them about it.

"What?" Both fillies looked shocked, disturbed by this revelation. Could they be going in circles as well?

"I think Ticky is still going the right way. Without this working all we can do is go the way he's going, right?" The colt was far less sure than he'd been this entire time. This was a disturbing change of events. Unsettling to all of them. What if Ticky wasn't going the right way either? Even if he was, they were still nowhere near their goal. They should have made much more distance, but several factors were conspiring against them since they set out. Not being able to follow a straight path or real road slowed them greatly, the initial weight of their packs and other problems during the trip added up heavily.

They'd had to sit still for three days when one of the fillies stumbled over an unseen obstacle late one day, hurting herself enough to require the rest. Losing that much time also meant using even more supplies that would otherwise have served the purpose of furthering them along in their travels. Another two days were wasted backtracking due to finding themselves facing impassable terrain. In total they'd lost nearly an entire weeks worth of travel time on those things alone. More time was lost on varying problems, deciding which route to take was surprisingly one of the most time consuming. Since that mistake they were being much more cautious. That really cost them badly in terms of time and supplies.

"I'm really worried. There's like nothing left in Ticky's packs. What will we do?" The elder filly was sounding more ragged than before, worn out. So much time was lost in futile efforts to make headway and now they were running out of everything. All that was left in the saddlebags was a medical kit they'd only needed to make use of once or twice, and for nothing too serious. A few minor scrapes and bruises were to be expected on such a long trip, but there was nothing edible in there and right now that was more important. None of the vegetation proved edible or of any variety they knew to be safe to consume.

It wasn't possible to keep to a straight line in their path to a far off destination. One they didn't even really know what it was. They only knew that somepony they trusted said it was there. A place that very few knew of. It was not possible to send them there before the end of the war came or they would have been. Three hapless children far from anything they might call home, wandering through a dimmed land. On the very first day they'd seen pegasi rushing across the skies frantically in every which way, not one bothering to look down to note them. They still hadn't seen anypony at all since then. No one, alone. A situation three now very frightened children should never have had to face, especially alone.

The machine sent along with them was the only gesture that could be granted them, an attempt to help. A small chance. It was not going to last as long as hoped. One colt and two fillies made their way forward, slow mile after mile passing. Keeping track was not something bothered with. All that mattered, was getting there and doing what was asked of them. If that was even possible. After each winding Ticky was marching more slowly. Not noticeably at first. Rivers did not seem to be where they should be. Nothing was there. The waters path interrupted further up. Even if it had still wound by them, it would be undrinkable. Their supplies dwindled yet more by the day despite following all the advice given them to ration.

Something did not look correct about what they were seeing. The map they had was definitely not wrong about their position though. The colt was not feeling so energetic whatsoever anymore. Seeing the trees and plants wilting or just plain otherwise looking wrong did not help the mood. He felt sick, but said nothing. It was probably not important anyway. Just tired from going and going. They slept quite easily at night, and kept moving during the day. If it really was day anymore. Lighter than night time, but it did not seem right either. At least the gloom of day was better than total darkness which they had no means of continuing to move through during anyway. Now, their supplies were all but gone.

Day after day of lonely walking with only themselves for company was becoming extremely tiresome and wearing on all three. Friends though they were, the continual time spent together was proving to be a steep strain on all three. They'd never walked this much or spent quite so much time together before. The tiring days and not wholly restful nights were not helping matters any. Inexorably, the wear and tear of it would get to one or the other of them and need a lot of coaxing from the others to continue onward. Spirits were getting lower after spending weeks walking. It seemed like they covered less ground each and every day. That was worrying. The filly wearing the wide-brim hat stopped and went totally silent a moment.

"What..what's wrong?" The young colt asked of the filly wearing it.

"I..I think my manes falling out." She was looking ragged, but they all kind of were. It didn't seem right in any way.

"I'm sure it's alright, you're still pretty!" The other filly encouraged. Just barely enough for now. The colt didn't say he felt really ill himself. Not just physically, but a bad feeling was overtaking him that maybe they wouldn't get there after all. They did vaguely know what dying was, but someone so young shouldn't have to face it. Definitely not alone. Not like this. There was nopony around to help or comfort. Only themselves. Travel was slowing. Each day was less progress forward.

Less and less. All too soon they were making far too little headway towards their distant destination. They were not even told what was really there. Just that it would be safe if they could make it. Whatever hope of that was waning between the three. Even the seeming boundless energy of youth was wearing thin amongst each, and the concern grew worse with time as did the feelings of being truly ill. He tried his best not to show it, wanting to keep his friends happy and moving as much as possible. He could tell something was very wrong and getting worse inside himself, but feared to tell them. He didn't want them to worry, not about him. He was..what did being tough matter now? Did it matter? Did anything?

"I don't feel..right." The filly in the cape said, and choked very heavily to a concerning degree, shaking hard for a few moments before it subsided. The other two looked to each other, but could say nothing. What could be said?

"I can't eat. It makes me feel sick. You have it." The one in the now very raggy looking hat said and slid her tiny portion on a little plate over to the colt. The once luxurious long pegasus feather nearly destroyed by now. That sounded really bad.

"You have to eat.. you will get sick if you don't eat." He said meekly, looking down at his hooves.

"I can't swallow it. Have my share, please go ahead." She said raspily. None of them looked too well anymore.

"You two, I don't think we can make it." The other wheezed. Her mane really was falling out in tufts now. She was feeling so bad now that Ticky was mostly carrying her along. this was getting worse and worse. The colt was not in quite as bad condition as either of them. He felt so bad inside not being able to do anything for either of them. Ticky came to a slow stop. It was time to wind the marching machine once more. So far the escort machine held up exceedingly well. That unfortunately changed at this moment, as he finished winding the large key snapped out of the socket and fell off to the ground with a loud thunk. He could not fit the key back in or find a way to make it work. This would be the last walk it would make with them.

"I think Ticky broke." He said dejectedly, thoroughly disheartened at this turn of events. He felt so weak and tired, forcing himself to keep moving with the other filly. By now the food was completely gone, the water might as well be. At least there was nothing they needed to carry any longer, having ditched their totally empty packs and saddlebags miles and miles ago.

"Ticky, I'm sorry. I don't know what to do." They walked on for as long as it would carry her. It turned out to not be enough. They'd stopped between a stand of trees on all sides, more for comfort than from any real threat. The trees themselves weren't looking very healthy either. Almost looking as tired as he felt. Ticky was so slow now. He felt so ill.

They helped the once exuberant filly off gently and to lay back against a tree. She didn't look too good. None of them did. Ticky panned it's head to each of them then remained still, perhaps with just enough power left to watch for some amount of time. The young colt sat and looked at his friends, both barely able to keep their eyes open from that moment on. He tried to offer them what tiny bit remained of water that Ticky carried, but they refused and could not stomach it anyway. They were dying, and so was he, he was certain. He took the last sip, it was just enough to wet the mouth and wish for more.

"Why did she send us out here? She must have..known we...couldn't make it." He panted, looking over to the others.

He made a fire. It made sense to do so. Just as he was taught and been doing. The crackling wood sounded comforting. A hollow comfort for young hearts. The filly in the cape rasped weakly, so tired and strained as she lay there almost unmoving.

"No, she wouldn't do that. I think..she wanted us to see the world, and there really is a place. It's okay. It was just too far..for us." She coughed and yelped in pain then shuddered there. There was nothing he could do for either of them. He took a deep breath and internally wanted to scream, but refused to give in and do so. His friends were dying in front of him and he could do absolutely nothing to help. He knew it, he was too. Soon. Be strong for them. He must be tough.

He did what very little could be done for her, tried to make her comfortable. Her breathing was uneven and occasionally rapid. It didn't sound right at all. This was wrong. The other filly was laying down looking half dazed as well. There was nothing in the medical kit that could help with this, and they weren't taught what to do if this kind of thing happened. Was there something to do? None of them knew. He quietly spoke to the other one.

"I think..she's sick. I think we all are. I don't know." The colt was wobbly and weak, but still doing his best for the others. It was down to him. He had to take care of them. That was just what you did wasn't it? For hours he watched over them.

At some point she simply stopped breathing. He cried for real after finally realizing she was really gone. Sobbing hard he scraped at the ground in anguish. It hurt so much to watch them die. More pain than he ever imagined. This wasn't tough.

"Don't go..please dont go.." He begged his dying friend, but she was already long gone. That felt pathetic. He was asking her to do the impossible. That was unfair of him. He would not let that stand of himself and corrected it immediately.

"No, it.. I don't mean that. You're my friend. I love my friends. Goodbye.." He looked at her for a few minutes and despite himself gave a childish kiss on her cheek before turning away, sobbing for a moment. He couldn't help it anymore.

"What do I do? What do I do?" He was huffing heavily and so tired and hurting all over. It hurt so much in every way inside and out. He was out of ideas and couldn't do this anymore.

"NO NO NO." He mumbled and muttered to himself, hating feeling so weak and useless like this. What was the point of him being here if he couldn't even help his friends?

"I can't..I can't...There's nothing. Nothing." The colt was nearly shaking from crying and being so upset. He finally worked up the courage to say it.

He looked to the other filly. She was almost gone as well, but still here for the moment at least. He was crying hard.

"I can't..I can't save you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" He told her, shivering. He felt so powerless about this.

"Shhh." She uttered and moaned a bit then turned her head towards him, just sounding kind.

"Huh?" He couldn't possibly stop crying right now. It wouldn't stop. Tears just flowed, he shouldn't cry like this.

"Shh..shh shhh... It's okay. You did..so much for us. Mom used to give me raspberry ice cream when I was upset. I don't have any ice cream to give you.. shh...I miss ice cream.." In a few too many hours she went silent as well. He was alone.

Moving to lay back against a tree himself he almost collapsed. He'd stayed alongside her for those long hours. Saying things they'd liked back and forth occasionally, joking until when waiting for her to respond she finally said nothing at all.

Hardly able to move himself from a great lack of food and water or remaining strength, he stared at Ticky.

"I'm sorry..Miss Scootaloo. We didn't..make it. We tried so hard.." He wheezed and groaned in pain. It hurt in so many ways. What did it matter now anyway? His friends were gone and he would likely join them soon. An odd sort of calmness settled over him. What was this? He must be imagining things, but could have sworn he heard a voice saying it was alright.

Whatever was that? So strange. The pain seemed to be subsiding as his eyes flicked to and fro, but there was no one there. Managing to look to his friends one last time, he finally gave in as he gazed at the escort machine and took off his hat.

"You did real good, Ticky.." There was one last thing to say, something he needed to know badly, he just had to know.

"Ohh..Ticky, did..did I do good, too?" It may have just been the haze of pained tears and youthful emotions, but he thought he saw the machine nod it's head very slowly. What a relief. Glad to think so, a smile crossed his muzzle as his eyes slowly closed, content to die beside his friends. Peaceful at last, the pain ended. Quiet settled over the little grove.

Ticky stood over the charges put in its care thereafter, having been unable to fulfill the given mission to escort them somewhere safe. A silent sentinel left to stand in tribute and memorial of three lost souls tossed aside by a dying world, as many were. Three young wanderers left to their final rest together. Unfair perhaps, but at least they had each other. Many at the time of the wars ending were not nearly fortunate enough to have the benefit of friends or comfort of any kind. Left to die alone in the blasted remnants of the world. To have survived even this long after it all started falling apart was a tremendous accomplishment. If trophies were given for simple survival after all that, these three would have several.

187 years would slowly inch past in the dead quiet that sprang upon all things here and elsewhere, endless decades before this quiet spot would be intruded upon by a couple of other lost souls whose intrusion would be short and reverent. It was obvious to these intruders upon this hidden spot that they were quite young when they died and likely deserved so much better from life than to have it ended so short. A painful reminder of what was missing from the world.

Painful indeed. We all know just a bit of it. These three felt the most possible, and just why would I tell you something so horrible? Perhaps you'll figure it out, or not. The cards fall which way they may, but this roll of the dice didn't quite work out now did it?

Let's Bake a Cake

"Use any resources required to locate and bring me the following. Two eggs. Cornstarch. Wheat germ. Baking powder and baking soda. Butter. Milk, and flour. Not flowers, flour. Salt, and sugar." One of Boss subordinates was relaying to some other followers of his.

"What, did Boss really ask for all of this stuff? Why would he even want any of this, and how are we supposed to find any of it?" A very tough looking raider responded, clad in thick leathers with metal spikes adorning it here and there. The other stallion shrugged.

"How should I know, said something about a celebration? Whatever it is, his son is gone now and you don't want to make him or me angry now do you?" The new de-facto second in command muttered.

"N-no! I'll get a team right on it." The raider ran off at a full gallop. That was more like it. Boss was definitely not one you desired to anger. The new second gulped now that he was gone. The last pony in their group that did that immediately wound up being thrown straight through a second-story wall to land in a broken heap below never to move again. One thing he demanded was absolute obedience. Failure was generally met with fairly serious injury or even immediate death.

If they did not return with the requested items somepony would pay dearly and it was not going to be him. What in the world could Boss possibly want with this kind of stuff anyway? He never asked for anything even remotely like it before. This was weird even by his standards and that was saying something. It was always hard to tell what he was up to, but his strength was undeniable. Many were simply forced to follow him under pain of death. There were others close to him that were terribly concerning. Strange ponies that all looked oddly alike and acted unlike anyone else. Always saying creepy things and never very far away from Boss at any time. They were fanatically loyal to the point of utter insanity.

Quite possibly among the most insane in the entirety of the wastes. Nearly coming close to being dangerous as Boss himself. Everyone near him felt spooked and endangered by his mere presence alone. Few were brave or stupid enough to try leaving. If any did manage to slip away, they would never be seen again. If they ever returned the punishment would surely be sheer agony followed by a brutal dismemberment. Boss had made this quite clear when he abruptly showed up years ago and took over their raiding group. Those that tried to stand up to him and his son were quickly dispatched without the slightest care. It was extremely rare for anyone to try running away or disobeying after that show of force.

The feeling whenever Boss was near made one shiver, as though something unreal trod the wastes among normalcy. The world itself may not feel right, but he somehow embodied cold and death. He brought with him an unshakeable feeling that an unstoppable juggernaut was barely contained within. Along with that was the strange anger he induced just by speaking. Raiders are not known for subtlety, but he brought an undeniable rage forth from inside those near to him. A psychotic frenzy which in a fight could easily overwhelm any standing in the way. It was useful, but it was also dangerous. Boss was like a tightly coiled snake ready to instantly strike down any who displeased him. His second shuddered.

The merest thought of displeasing Boss was motivation enough to succeed in whatever task was presented. This one was strange, but really no more so than anything else he ever asked.

"They better not screw this up." He said to himself, eyeing his own spiked barding idly.

"Yes, they better." Somepony said over in a darkened corner of the building they were currently operating out of.

"B-boss! I..didn't see you there." The second barely managed to control himself and say. Boss was so shrouded in shadow he was difficult to even see sitting there. That sudden feeling of cold and danger was terrible and intense.

"Do you need something, Boss?" Was quickly added, never anger him. Never.

"No." Was all Boss said, continuing to sit there draped in darkness. Was he just going to stay there and stare? This was very odd.

"I should go make sure those idiots get what you asked for." The second said and went to leave, but boss held up a hoof.

"Stop." It was more than enough to make the raider freeze in his tracks. Did he do something to displease Boss?

If he did something wrong, he was about to be flattened by an unstoppable force. Much to his relief Boss merely spoke, but it brought that angered feeling welling up from deep within. It was hard to control.

"When you give orders, they are to be obeyed. Trust those you have given them to will follow without question. If they fail to do so, you will punish them appropriately. Understood?" Boss questioned.

"Yes, Boss. Whatever you say goes." He replied as calmly as possible. Boss always seemed to appreciate anyone that kept calm around him.

"Excellent. Perhaps I should have tossed that moronic foal of mine aside sooner. Worthless trash. Now go, do not disappoint me as he has done." Boss lowered his hoof.

"Yes, Boss. Right away." The second hurried off after that. Every time Boss spoke it was dangerous. Once out in the clear he gasped for air a few times.

"What is he? Some kind of monster. A monster. Just go. Go do what he says and everything is fine." He spoke to himself to calm his nerves, panting heavily for several moments, holding a hoof to his chest.

Thoughts of being throttled or otherwise tossed about like nothing ran through his mind as he ran off to ensure he would not be the subject of Boss wrath. Better anypony else than himself. Anyone at all.

My, whatever could this be?

Lost Path

Traveler stood transfixed as a horrible monstrosity shuffled forward. A true monster like none she had ever imagined. The vaguely familiar outline of her adoptive parents lumbered forth from the darkness, lurching. Magnificent and the other pony she didn't know had bolted up the stairs after Boss and smashed through the door above in an effort to stop him. They were not aware of what was happening down here. Bloated and sickening looking, the awful visage slowly lumped along forward towards her from within the dimness. Reaver still lay off to the side of the room in pain, snickering at her misfortune. Why was he like this? Boss hurt him too.

"You stupid foal. Hahaha. Look what you get for messing with Boss." He chortled like a demented lunatic.

"Loser. Witless naive child. Aahahahahaha. Death comes for you." Reaver was cackling and gloating from the side of the room where he fell. At least he hadn't moved since then. Perhaps she actually had managed to hurt him. The vision before her was far worse a thing. In the dark beneath the twin staircases something awful was stirring to step out of night terrors and into waking reality. This could not be. This must not be true. There was no way this was actually happening. It's a bad dream. It has to be! Traveler huffed and panted when confronted with this, dismayed and grandly alarmed.

In absolute terrified manner Traveler stepped back. Horror was striding forth from the darkness. Every nerve and feeling was telling her to run away and never look back. This was pain made incarnate. How? Why? This was vastly out of her league. She felt incredibly small and cowardly as the moaning dead thing approached. Boss had turned her parents into some kind of deadly joke. Stay away. It's motions were not of the living. Twitchy and difficult to look at as it walked lopsidedly. Sickness. Seeing this muttering savage slathering beast inflicted an illness of the soul. A wretched brutish abnormal behemoth emerged, ragged manes and twin tails hanging behind it. Her own parents were going to crush her.

"S-stay away!" Traveler couldn't think straight. This sight was too much to bear. None should have to face this. No one. Why was this being done to her? Her parents always tried to be and do good by her, and this was what they got? They were already dead. They didn't deserve this at all. Each fibre of her being cried out for escape from this nightmare. This can't be real, wake up. Please, wake up. It was real. The beast made from her parents would be on her any moment now. As with several times before, Moonlight's systems detected nothing unusual about them. What was wrong with that? It made no sense at all. Reaver registered the same way, as did the nameless pony from before. What was going on?

The horrific half-sewn together corpses of her parents were getting closer. Puffed out and expanded from death and decay. The thing wheezed terribly as it approached. What had Boss done to her parents!? Everything was amiss.

"No no no!" Traveler screeched in a panic, backpedaling away from this hideous construction of flesh and sinew as it swiped at her with a forehoof, swinging and smashing apart the wall beside it. It might be even stronger than Reaver.

"Mom, dad..please stop! Don't you know me!?" Traveler moaned in terrified confusion. The rest of her group were desperately pounding on the apparently unbreakable panel which had dropped from above, unable to gain entry and assist. Reaver spoke.

"This is rich. Oh mommy, daddy, please don't hurt poor little me." He made mimicking motions of her backing away, bursting into somewhat pained laughter, mocking her predicament. What was wrong with this guy?

"Sh..shut up!" She said, gasping for breath as she faced off with this horrid thing. This was wrong. It should not be happening. The sickening crunching and snapping coming from the thing in front of her added another layer of disgust to it all. This was beyond surreal. A break in reality itself. Traveler knew of death and creatures and other horrible things out in the wastes, but what was this? It was incorrect. It could not be happening, yet it was. She was being forced to fight the somehow resurrected halves of bodies belonging to two ponies she loved with all her heart in life. Why!?

Gunnar was smashing on the panel with all his might but it would not budge or break. None of them could help her. If only Magnificent hadn't gone after Boss. She couldn't decide what to do, avoiding this muttering crazed thing that was her parents. Didn't whatever was left of either recognize her at all? It was all Traveler could do to avoid it. It was quick, just like her father. The disfigured misshapen and misfigured form of her parents kept on attacking.

"Stop, please! It's me!" She begged of this caricature of life. It kept swiping at her with hugely destructive blows. Reaver was completely ignored by it for some reason. What was she going to do? She couldn't do this. Anything but this. Not this!

"Oh yes, that will surely help. You can't even kill them? Bwahahahaha." Boss son was not making this any easier.

Each swing it took had a sort of force following it that was difficult to estimate, but it seemed to amplify impacts into anything it struck, nearly quadrupling the force behind each. This was crazy. A true monster had set another monster loose upon her. Why was everything that Boss did some kind of horrific action to take? Why would he have done this to her poor parents? They never even met him. Did he just do this kind of thing for some kind of sick amusement? What really was he? That was no pony. Definitely not. Some sort of true evil. He must be to have raised the dead to do his bidding? Frightened out of her wits and engaged in a dangerous dance with this flailing thing was deathly dangerous. She had to try and think.

"Silly little filly. Give up now and I'll make it sure it's over quickly for you, dope of a foal." Reaver was taunting her again too? Did he not realize what happened earlier? Boss just left him here without the slightest care for his own son. The suit systems kept targeting the creature and suggesting opening fire. She couldn't fire upon them. Not them. Not her parents.

"Please, you have to be in there somewhere. Stop this!" Traveler was begging them to stop trying to destroy her but the thing kept coming at her. One good direct blow from their hooves could crack her suit open like an egg. Why was everything she ever wound up facing so ludicrously strong? Oh, why did it have to be them? Nearly anypony else she could have handled.

The creature was getting more wildly aggressive as this dragged on. A this rate it would tear her apart eventually. The askew half-faces of her parents were so horrible to see. The drooling slathering repugnant thing was even biting at her in a completely crazed rage. What was she going to do? The pony with no eyes was still laughing and chuckling evilly.

"Give in to fear. Let it finish you. Appalling deficient foal." Reaver kept taunting and teasing. Traveler was getting completely unnerved by his constant stream of hurled abuse as she continued this deadly ballet. Finally, she had a thought on what to do. It was a dim hope at best.

"Reaver..I..I want you to come with us. Join us." Traveler said, avoiding another blow that smashed the wood flooring sending splinters flying everywhere. What? The group could hardly hear, but were all shocked by her question.

Have Reaver join them? Was she actually nuts? Tasket yelled through the panel, just audibly enough to hear.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy!? He tried to kill you. You said he killed them!" She was trying to lift the panel or break through as well. It simply would not move an inch. It must be some sort of old-world material they knew nothing of.

"What a laugh. I must have hit you even harder than I thought." Reaver groaned and chuckled in a low growl almost.

The thing was totally out of control, smashing anything Traveler got near. Taking a hit from that would be bad, but it was very inaccurate. Were it not for that, it's speed would have finished Traveler by now for certain.

"Reaver, what good will it do you to go on like this? Boss has abandoned you and left you here to die alone. He said he's going to destroy the whole world, don't you care? Join us, please? We don't have to be friends, but we do not need to be enemies anymore. At least help us stop him for your own sake." Traveler knew this would be a hard sell. Convincing this guy to come with them might be a horrible mistake anyway. It was a dangerous gamble. This thing was relentless.

"Help yourself, moron. Idiot filly. Useless weaklings deserve no quarter. None whatsoever." Reaver retorted, laying there clutching at himself. Traveler must have inflicted tremendously serious damage to him during their fight.

"I'm useless? Come on, that is clearly Boss talking. What do you really think? Make a choice yourself for a change!" Traveler was dancing about the large room avoiding the somehow animate corpse of both her parents. She was crying inside her armor. Seeing them like this hurt so incredibly badly, in a way that was unbearable.

"How dare you!? You ignorant peasant." He basically growled angrily at her words. Peasant? Why was he so insulting?

"You attacked us all first, remember? We have only defended ourselves. For the longest time I thought I wanted to kill you for it, I really did, but I don't care about that anymore. We need to stop Boss or nothing else will matter for ALL of us anyway. I need your help. Help us." Traveler hoped she was getting through to him as she deflected a blow from the thing. Internally she was still in a panic at the sight of him and them. Reavers sightless gaze turned towards her. He'd gone silent for some reason. Why was the world like this? Everything hurt so much more badly than she ever imagined before.

"Help you? YOU? Never, you worthless piece of garbage. Shut your muzzle and die!" Reaver groaned. He really must be seriously hurt.

Traveler was standing too close against a wall and moved just as the thing rushed forward. As she jumped out of the way it crashed right through into another room, sending dust and debris everywhere. It seemed no more than a wild animal anymore. The brute sluggishly turned back towards her and continued its assault. It was clear to her now, it would never stop going until she was dead.

"Reaver, please.. I'm begging you. Stop this. Your father won't be coming back and I know your mother is dead. You don't have anyone, just like I didn't. I know what it is like to have no one at all, you don't want to be in that place. Don't be all alone like I was. There is no need for you to be in that kind of pain." This was really a roll of the dice.

Dodging this maniacal thing over and over was tiring. Just looking at it hurt so much. Trying to convince Reaver to help her was all she could think to do. He would easily be able to stop this. Reaver was very inexpressive, was she getting through to him at all? There was no way to tell. Desperate for a way out of this, she found herself almost blubbering.

"Reaver, please help us. I never even wanted to fight you at all, don't you understand that? Please come with us." He was not answering. What was he doing? Laying there in a heap in pain was not something she ever wanted to inflict on anyone. Not for real.

"Grr..I..Fine, you mooncalf! On one condition. Prove yourself, kill that mess. Now." He said. That voice of his. Chilling. Mooncalf?

"What? I can't do that. They're..they're mom and dad." Traveler couldn't believe what he was saying as tears flowed.

"No they aren't you moronic imbecile. I cannot understand how somepony so stupid ever beat me at anything. Pathetic." Reaver was so creepy, aggravating and insulting at the same time. He was so angering and miserable to listen to.

"I can't I cant.." Traveler moaned weakly, the terrible conglomeration of her mother and father was trying to destroy her. Why could she not take an action other than to avoid? It was so hard seeing them like this. It hissed something out.

"K..iill...ussss..s..weeeetheaarrttttt." Some part of them was aware and listening this whole time even as they attacked her? No!

Traveler did not notice until this moment, the opposing eyes of the thing were filled with tears streaming down.

"This can't be happening. I can't do this!" Traveler jumped away again as they swung. For some reason, they could not stop. Reaver laughed loudly, bellowing. What was he doing? Would he help or not? This was the hardest thing ever to take.

"You really are weak aren't you? Do it, you miserable nitwit of a foal or just give up and die already." Reaver said coldly. Why was he so awful and mean about everything? The horrendous beastly thing that was formerly her parents continued their attempts to mangle her. Traveler's heart was pounding so hard it hurt, she was shaking. This was impossible and hurt.

"Ppaainnnnn!" The thing roared out. At this rate Traveler really would be killed. She couldn't stand it anymore as something in herself finally broke loose. A horrible intense sadness mixed with incredible anger rose inside.

"Mommy...daddy..I'm sorry!.. I love you so so much.. Goodbye." She unloaded her armors entire 9mm clip into the thing and it stumbled about a moment, blood dripping all over from the holes, then flopped on the floor with a heavy dull thud, it's combined eyes slowly glazing over. She could just make out the last thing it said as it wheezed heavily.

"Oouuurrr..goood...gggirrrrlllll...." It's spliced together head rolled to the side and it lay twitching disturbingly all over.

It finally lay still. Traveler raised her head towards the ceiling and screamed at the top of her lungs. Beginning to sob wildly and yelling incoherently for a lengthy moment. She was so sad and heartbroken and angry all at once.

"You monsters. Sick vile monsters. You're all monsters! Boss, I'm going to find you and break every single bone in your body then tear your heart out and make you watch me eat it then gouge out your eyes while I tear your head off and use it to decorate my house so I can smash your skull in repeatedly every single day for the rest of my life!" Traveler cried, babbling and just standing there screaming at anything. Somehow even Reaver without any eyes managed to look taken aback by this wild outburst, almost cringeing.

A few moments of hysterical blathering later, slowly, she walked over to the panel and informed the others to move well away from it. Still crying she turned and began bucking the panel in true and earnest anger, using it as a means to vent further frustration. After a lengthy time smashing it like this over and over it actually began to show signs of cracking. For a full ten minutes she just kept doing this using the suits full power. The others were about to tell her to stop when instead of actually breaking it gave way from the very frame and fell loose upon the floor with a huge echoing smashing sound, then began to knit itself back together once more. Perhaps this loose panel could be useful in some fashion, but she did not know how currently.

It was hard to think. Traveler felt horribly ill, like some dark sickness had taken hold of her and she just stood there in her suit like a statue after all this. Not even the old griffon could think of anything good to say at this moment. Something dire and of such painful depth just happened they all stood agape in silence with her. Reaver remained silent as well, perhaps even given over to some modicum of real fear instilled by the raving armored mare. Did she actually manage to frighten him? Perhaps the multiple beatdowns she inflicted on him inadvertently or directly actually affected him on some level. At any rate, he somehow felt less dangerous now. Having somepony as durable and oddly powerful as him would surely prove useful if he could come to be trusted.

Gunnar at last broke the silence when Traveler finally quieted down fully from her hysterics. Tanner stood agape.

"Are you really sure about this? That pony over there, if he even is a real pony..is trouble with a capital T. Do you really want him tagging along?" He looked over to Reaver who was still laying there in obvious pain, but he already seemed to be recovering very slightly. That guy was a fright and a half to all of them. Traveler walked over to Reaver boldly and offered an armored hoof to help him up. The others looked on in serious concern. He hesitated at this friendly offer, surprised.

"Good fight. Can you walk or do we need to carry you?" She said, holdering her hoof out. He looked so hesitant to take it.

Those empty eye sockets were always disconcerting, even more so up this close. Would he really help them? In very obvious pain he reluctantly reached up and accepted her assistance at last. It was a start at least. Maybe, just maybe.

"I don't need your assistance or anything. I will however need some time to heal." His voice was so strange, carrying a great deal of weight behind it. Creepy, authoritative. Not in the same way as Boss, but still there. Something about him felt sad in its own way, but she couldn't put her hoof on it. His voice quivered a little. Was he really actually scared of her?

"Just don't pull any funny business. We will have our ey..uh..will be watchi..keeping you in our si...just don't, alright?" She stumbled over her words.

"Whatever. You idiotic weaklings obviously stand no chance without me. Stop Boss on your own? Don't make me laugh." Though he was correct, that was yet another insult. What was his problem anyway? He was the one that got abandoned by his own father only moments ago.

"Oh would you cut that out? Neither do you, so I would appreciate it if you dropped all the condescension." Tisket said. His sister appeared shocked as she looked over to her brother.

"What?" He said with a strange looking expression.

"Did you just..where did you..ya know what, nevermind." Tasket was quite puzzled in appearance for some reason.

Reaver would not be in any real condition to travel for quite some time. That was blatantly obvious. There were things to take care of at the moment anyway. This had all been such a painful physical and emotionally damaging time.

"Should we..go after your friends?" Gunnar asked Traveler.

"My..friends? I only knew one of them, but no. If anypony can take of themself it's..him. I..I think I need a little bit alone now if you don't mind. All of you clear out of the room, please." She turned her attention to the remains of her parents.

"You heard the fine lady, everyone out." Fine lady? Gunnar watched each of them exit the room, especially Reaver as he limped.

He was possibly in even worse condition than he was letting on, steadying himself against the wall as he walked out. The heavy griffon bravely offered to help him but was rebuffed again. Oh well. He turned his head towards Traveler for a few seconds, observing her looking down at the sad remnants. He walked out of the room and joined the rest.

"Alright you three, and our new pal over there. We are probably going to be here for a few days at least. Traveler is in no shape to go rushing off through the wastes either. I can see it even with that armor of hers. So let's just make the best of things, okay?" He stared at Reaver in particular. Tanner fidgeted off to the side apprehensively.

"I know you're looking at me ya dumb turkey." Turkey? Reaver stated it in that cold voice. He didn't even turn his head.

"You are a real piece of work. I don't know why you are still trying to get under our skin, but listen up. I do not care at all. I don't know what she's thinking, but I trust Traveler with my life by now. If she thinks bringing you along is a good idea then fine. Now let this sink in, even if it's only temporary we happen to be on the same side for the moment but you will follow our orders. Chew on that and swallow it hard." Gunnar walked over to the two siblings after his little retort there. Reaver was difficult to read, and looked ticked by that scolding. He went to say something but Tasket interrupted.

"Reaver, will you need anything? Can we do something to make you more comfortable?" She questioned nicely. He seemed stunned by this.

"I..no. Worthless." The anger was definitely drained out of his voice and whatever he was going to say by her offer. His expression was one of apparent puzzlement now. He moved off and found a place to rest somewhat away from them and lay down on the hard flooring. That didn't look very comfortable at all, but he lay weirdly motionless. Creepy once more.

"Alright, we need to discuss things. Your mission has just changed. The one and only thing that matters is preventing Boss from carrying out whatever he is trying to achieve. Absolutely nothing else. Got it?" Gunnar was very worried.

"Are you sure? What about your thing? We've come such a long way already.." Tasket was watching Reaver from afar.

"Yeah, we went through all that and now we're supposed to go chasing somepony else? None of this was in the job description and besides, can that loopy pony monster really destroy the whole world? Sounds like complete nonsense to me." Tisket did not really believe he could. It did sound utterly beyond possibility to all of them.

"You honestly think we should take that chance? You both saw what he's done. There is no reason to take that kind of risk. If there is the slightest possibility he can do it, we must stop him. It can't be allowed. I don't want what little is left in the world to be taken away from anyone else, do you?" Gunnar's voice cracked a little and he choked up a bit. That was quite odd for him. Whoa.

"I guess you're right there big fella. I don't want that either, but he was awfully powerful. Is there really any chance we can stand up to him?" They all felt the kind of force Boss projected at distance. He was something altogether violent and supremely dangerous, that much was abundantly clear. Boss was the sort of mystery no one wanted to try and solve.

"It doesn't make a difference. Someone has to keep him from doing it, and for the moment we're the only ones that know what he's up to. No one else. Anyway, you two keep close watch over that..guy over there, and be nice." Gunnar told them both. This had been a very miserable day for everyone. Tasket was still a bit sore from the shotgun incident earlier.

"Be nice? Are you joking? You were just raging on him harder than an explosion a few minutes ago." Tisket motioned towards the creepy unmoving pony over there, was he even breathing? His presence felt so weird.

"Because he needed to know in no uncertain terms that he has no authority with us unless he earns it and that we will not put up with anything unwanted from him. Now we need to try and get him to trust us as well. I don't like this at all, but Traveler started this with him and we need to see it through. Just be really careful around him. Don't let him get away with anything we don't like. Now, I'm going to go get the cart, Boss is not going to come back here." Gunnar turned to walk off.

"Gunnar wait, how do you know that?" Tanner was surprised he had so much confidence about it. He flicked his tail.

"It's what I would do." He said and left the room. Tisket and Tasket both blinked.

"I guess that makes sense. We know where this place is now, and he probably got whatever he wanted here already anyway." Tasket scratched her head and sighed. Why was life so bad in the world? What brought it to this?

"That blast hurt pretty bad, I just gotta rest some. Tiskey, can ya take care of things for a while? Please?" She did hurt a lot.

"Yeah yeah. I don't think tall dark and horrible over there is gonna pull anything for a long while." Tisket agreed.

"I'll stay with ya. No way I can rest right now anyway." Tanner was probably the most fearful around Reaver. He'd not been forced to spend any time around him at all like the rest and was most uncomfortable.

"How do you stay so calm around..him?" Tanner asked Tisket.

"We were dragged along behind him for a long time, you get used to it a bit. That feeling still gives me a chill though." Tisket explained.

"Traveler's ideas always seem so strange, but they always work out somehow. I'm not so sure about this one.." Tanner voiced his extreme concern about this idea. Bringing that pony with them, out of almost any other was surely asking for bad things to happen.

"She hasn't got anypony killed yet. She's an amazing fighter, that's good enough for me." Tisket was awfully accepting of this situation now.

"Well I don't like it, he's tried to kill her over and over. I don't know how she can do this." Tanner took a deep breath.

"What's to like? At least it's exciting." Tisket was highly amused by the expression that elicited from Tanner.

"Exciting is not the word I would use to describe all of this." Tanner grumbled. Tisket pointed at his gun. Huh?

"What?" Tanner was confused.

"That pistol of your looks like it's about to fall apart, want me to fix it up some?" Tisket offered. Tanner looked back and down at the rickety thing in the old flank holster which held it. It really did look terrible.

"Uh sure, thanks." Tanner knew this pony was good with guns which is the only reason he let him do it.

With great intense interest he watched as Tisket tore down the pistol, kind of fearful of him breaking it but he expertly used a piece of cloth and some makeshift metal tools he kept to slowly and surely clean the old pistol workings. It took over a full hour to clean it as much as could be.

"Whoa, this thing has never looked or felt so good. I can't believe it." Tanner was in awe of the amazing job that was done on it. He tested the action with the bit-catch. It was so much smoother.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Tanner was quite curious about it.

"My..father taught me when we were pretty young. He told us he taught himself how to do it and ruined way more than a few junk guns until he figured it all out, wasted a whole lot of caps on them but it was worth it. I barely remember him, but I remember him teaching me this." That sounded sad but tisket was grinning.

"You sound like you love guns or something." Tanner said and Tisket smiled wide. That was almost creepy.

"Er, you think Traveler is alright in there? It's been a while." Tanner was growing increasingly worried for her.

"I can't imagine fighting your own parents. We should just give her time." Tisket was right of course.

Back in the large and now very shattered room Traveler was quietly moaning and crying over the monster that was made of her beloved parents. So shook up was she that she hadn't even bothered to get out of her armor suit.

"Wrong. Everything is wrong. How could he do this? No one is ever supposed to do this.." This was something so horrible, so incorrect and so disgusting she was absolutely shaking in anger, loathing, sadness and other indescribable feelings brought forth by what happened here. Boss was deplorable, a true monster if there ever was such a thing.

"Mom. Dad.. No one. No one should ever have done this. No one, not ever. It is..unforgivable." Traveler hurt inside so badly.

Seeing those she loved completely mangled and twisted into some kind of grotesque picture of themselves was a torture unheard of. Tears fell like a stream made of misery. She sat, looking over their broken halves sewn and fused together. She killed them. She killed them.. her head drooped for many long horrible moments. The shock of it all was perhaps too much as that searing rain kept falling from her eyes yet again. This was unfair. What did she ever do to be forced to endure this!? Traveler panted and her eyes clouded with fuzzing tears. Why hadn't she died with them so long ago? Not fair! It would have been so much easier. Thoughts drifting over everything, she thought she heard her father's voice.

"Shh, you did good sweetheart." Traveler's head snapped upwards. What? What was that? She looked around apprehensively. Nothing was different. That jolted her out of her misery for a moment. Moonlight's systems monitors indicated her heart rate spiked dangerously for a moment during whatever that was. Must be wild imagination.

"Wha? I must be losing my mind. Ugh. I will..have my..friends help me bury you a bit later. I have real friends now, mom, dad. I did it, I really got some. I did. Mom, we will try to stop Boss. I can't promise anything more.. just to try. Neither of you deserved this. You can rest now." Traveler sighed deeply. They really didn't. Her parents were good ponies in a world seemingly half-filled with bad ones.

"It's okay now." Her mother's voice ran through her head and she backpedaled rapidly at the sound.

"Aah!?" Traveler startled. Nothing was there and no sounds, just the destroyed room and the half-bodies.

"What's going on? I really am losing it. Calm down and get it together. Rest. Yes, go rest." She said to herself, taking a deep breath. It must be shock, she thought to herself. Just too much insanity going on around her. That had to be it. The suit systems once again showed her heart rate spiked dangerously for a couple seconds and the suits magic apparatus was engaged both times. What was up with that? She wasn't trying to use it. Best just calm down. Just another oddity in a string.

The suit friendly tags were all blue, but lining up where Reaver lay the tag slightly seemed to flicker red and back again to friendly blue. What did that mean? Traveler even by this time did not have the best understanding of her armor and its capabilities despite what Magnificent taught her about power armor. It was not really a hostile indicator, it would have to do. Walking into the room, she glanced over at Reaver for only a second and continued on.

"Tisket. Is your sister okay? I saw that blast knock her over." Traveler asked. He nodded.

"Yeah, she's fine. I think Tasket is just more in shock she made a mistake like that than hurt. Haha." Tisket looked rather amused.

"Ya know..you should treat her with more respect. She doesn't want you to get hurt." Traveler said dully and walked past him towards the opposite door of the room. What was that about?

"Hey wait, what did you mean by that, where are you going?" Tisket quickly asked of her. She looked over her shoulder.

"Not far. I just..need some space for a while." Traveler left and he rubbed his chin. Tanner went to follow.

"Sure great everyone, leave me to watch over this guy all by myself. Not that I think he's going anywhere soon. Come back here, Tanner." Tisket sighed, deciding to clean his sniper rifle. He did take good care of his stuff. Tanner stopped.

Reaver just lay there. What a creep. His presence was eerie feeling, like some cold dead thing.

"Well, I'm not bored anyway at least." Tisket said to Tanner. Some hours later, Traveler returned to find the two siblings and Gunnar keeping an eye on Reaver. Traveler's eyes were red, obviously from crying for a good long time.

"We need to bury my parents. They deserve a proper resting place. I was thinking out to the west side of the library. It's not home, but it's kinda pretty there." Traveler looked down forlornly. To her surprise she found her friends surrounding her. Huh? They all reached in and hugged her warmly. She sobbed by this surprising display of kindness.

"Guys, you don't have to..do that for me.." She sniffled. They all held her for a long moment before turning their attention the more grim task before them. It wasn't difficult to make a coffin. There was plenty of wood to be had from the old building. It was something undertaken slowly and with great respect for the two fallen. This was the second time they'd had to bury someone on this trek through the wastes and ruins of the land and wilds. Finally, they finished digging and prepared to cover the grave. Traveler stepped out of her armor. It was safe enough for now. This was a wholly dead place.

"I don't really know what you're supposed to do when you..do this." Traveler said to no one in particular.

"I've done it too many times, but not like this." The big griffon patted her on the back.

"Whatever you think is right, Traveler." Tasket said. They were all saddened by these events despite not knowing her parents. Tanner looked on grimly. He'd barely known his own parents before they died so this hurt a lot to see.

"None of you knew them, but I think my mom and dad would have really liked all of you. I'm sure of it. Dad would have enjoyed your company, Gunnar. And, mom would have just loved you two." Traveler looked around at the siblings.

"I wish they could have met you all. Mom, dad, these are my friends. I like them very much. I hope you like them too." She said as they started to cover over the hole.

"What were your parents like? I can hardly remember ours." Tasket was very interested in this.

"My dad was..fun and strong and fast..he tried so hard to give me a good life, they both did. Mom was gentle and skilled too. We were just ponies trying to grow food, and my dad just wanted to make the world a better place to be..it was his dream and I want to help make it happen." Traveler thought of her good memories at the old farmhouse.

"They sound like good strong-willed ponies, just like you. Can't imagine you being a farmer though." Gunnar said. Was he laughing about that? Just like them? Was that really true? Was she so much like her parents? She'd never thought about it before really.

"I'm very sorry this happened to them, Traveler. You did what you had to do, so don't worry about it alright?" Gunnar really was a nice guy himself once you got past that rough exterior, Traveler thought. It would definitely take a long while to get over this kind of pain. It was deeply incorrect and hurtful that such a thing was ever done to anypony at all, let alone her own parents.

"Have you ever heard of anything like this? What happened to them?" She asked the group. They all shook their heads.

"I've seen terrible things before..but never like this." The old griff dropped his head. He was rather disturbed too. They all were.

"To the end of achieving your fathers dream, we still need to search this place from top to bottom. If you still intend on it." He pointed inside and said. Traveler nodded a few times.

"I guess we don't have anything better to do for the moment anyway. Eyeless in there isn't going anywhere for a good bit I'd say." Tasket looked a whole lot better than earlier. Her wounds were superficial at most. The impact of the blast merely knocked her over hard. Somehow, they'd all survived yet again, just barely. If Boss stayed and fought, Traveler was certain they would all have been tossed aside and slaughtered where they stood.

The next few days they each took turns watching over their new and potentially highly dangerous companion while the others continued looking for the book Traveler had come so far for already. The strange pony barely seemed to need food or water and remained mostly still. That was concerning, but he did seem to be healing. Many of the books in the ancient library were destroyed by age, time, wear and exposure. Much of the place was still intact, making the chances of finding it decent if it was really here. So many books were in tatters, but some were in great condition. So many stories, anecdotes, histories. None of which any of them ever heard before. The room Boss escaped through was just a shambles.

A few books caught the eye, such as one on potion-making. Another about bullets and an oddly thick book titled 'Of Mice & Ponies'. There was so much to go through they could only glance over most unless it appeared of use or extra interest. They were all beginning to think the book Traveler sought was not here. This was a slow time, but it was necessary after all that happened here. Each day Traveler went to her parents grave and sat for a while, speaking her mind aloud. At least this time, she actually got to say goodbye to them. In a way this almost felt better. It was still a traumatic and horrid thing which was done to them both. She'd noticed, they seemed less tall than before. She really was more grown up now.

Each day they would take turns looking through the many books for anything related to what Traveler had come seeking. It was either destroyed in the open sections of the building, or simply was not here to be found. On the fourth day in the morning Reaver suddenly raised his head and stood shakily, making all of them startle. A close watch was kept on him afterwards, but he did little more than that. After more time spent searching, they all met her at the grave.

"Im sorry, Traveler. I don't think what you want is here. We have looked everywhere and found a few books and stuff to take that might be of real value to someone, but.." Tasket was right. There was nothing more for them here.

They'd also spent some time trying to patch up the now rickety cart of hers. It would last longer with these repairs, but was still not in the greatest shape. Traveler, once more in her armor turned to the grave one last time. It was very unlikely she would ever make the long trip here again. It was just much too far through difficult and dangerous territory.

"Dad, mom, It's time for me to go now.. I don't want to go and I can't visit you here, but you are always in my heart. I know this is so. Farewell." Turning to the group she noted Reaver was sighing. That was a little weird seeming from him.

"Are you alright to walk now?" She did wonder if he really was, he still looked very hurt and bruised.

"Of course I am." That cold nearly lifeless voice of his was offputting in the extreme, but she tried to ignore it.

"Okay. We have a couple of problems. Down Range and that other pony haven't come back, and we don't know where they went or Boss was going either. Would you happen to have any idea where he headed, Reaver?" She wondered if he would even be able to answer such a question. If he did, would it really be the truth? He begrudgingly answered.

"I only know some places he might go. If he's there or not is your problem." Reavers answer was cold as ever. It was better than nothing. Each felt some palpable danger with this pony tagging along, was it really worth the effort?

"It's better than nothing at all." Traveler noticed her armor's mapping system marking each location he gave. Most of them were very far away. At least one of which was over a thousand miles distant. How did he get around so quickly?

"Great. Reaver, which one do you think he would go to first?" As she asked he sighed heavily for whatever reason.

"I wouldn't know. His plans were never fully made known to me. From here, I think he would go to one of the hidden stables in Applewood. Happy now?" Reaver's cold voice was so repelling to hear. Was that a hint of sarcasm or something?

"That is the closest place he would go!? According to our map it's hundreds of miles west of here!" Tasket was annoyed.

"You wanted to know so badly. That is what I have to say. So useless." Reaver really did sound sarcastic somehow.

"Whatever, if that is so he has over half a weeks head start on us. How does he get from place to place so fast?" Traveler said aloud, more just wondering. He seemed to move about with truly unnatural speed as well.

"He only told me there were secret ways. Since you are all just so eager to go die, you should get moving." Reaver was blunt and angering already. No matter how fast, this was going to feel like a very long trip with him present. They set out towards the western reaches of Equestria. Six hundred miles was an awfully long way to go further.

"Fine, whatever. We have to keep up a decent pace if we hope to catch them. I know you don't want to be asked these things, but will you really be able to keep up Reaver? I don't want you to hurt yourself." They were all thinking it. The icy sound of his voice was almost painful.

"Ugh. I..I'll be fine." With that he turned and started walking westward. The others turned to Traveler and Gunnar quietly whispered something.

"We could always ditch him out there somewhere now that we have locations you know." Traveler was shocked by his words. Tanner leaned in and agreed. It was not something she wanted to do. Her reply was earnest.

"No. Not unless it has to be done. We must try. I feel like there's something different about him now, and I want to give him a chance first alright?" She really wanted him to turn to good. Not only would it be a type of victory, but something about him felt really sad in some other way she couldn't explain. She knew this was a serious risk, but had to do it.

"Up to you, but he is really dangerous. You know that." Tisket said as they all began walking. Letting Reaver go on ahead was a good idea to them all anyway. It would be easier to keep tabs on him up in front. The temporary break in constant walking had done them all some good, but also dug into their food supplies somewhat.

They were still decently well off with water. Traveler decided to try and strike up a more normal conversation with Reaver if she could, catching up to walk alongside him.

"Hey..I'm sorry about your father.." She hoped this would help.

"Why, what do you care?" So cold as always. He was still limping, but quick and did not seem in as much pain now. Was this an act to look tough?

"I know him abandoning you had to be hurtful, he's your dad.." She hoped she wasn't approaching this the wrong way.

He was by no means a very talkative pony. His speech until now was almost always aimed to hurt, insult or otherwise mislead, aggravate and confuse. It also held some kind of power to bring one towards anger. Not nearly as much as Boss. Just hearing him was enough to build some sort of rising anger inside immediately. This was lesser by a great degree.

"Boss doesn't care about anything except getting what he wants. He means nothing to me either. Idiot." It was an answer of some kind, but it was devoid of real feeling. She could tell, but she might have just caught him. Gotcha.

"So you do care." Traveler was being very cautious in her approach to this, but needed to push a bit.

"What?" He genuinely sounded surprised by her words for once and actually glanced her way slightly. Yes, this was going to work if she could just say the right thing. Just the right push was all he needed, she was sure of it.

"Your father has hurt you very badly, anypony can see that. Tell me about him, what is he really like?" Traveler was keeping a close eye on him as they walked. He almost seemed uncomfortable now. That was kind of funny.

"L..leave me alone. You know nothing about us, stupid girl." Girl? He was so intent on keeping distance between them he was actually slipping up a bit in what he was saying. If she could just make him crack and open up to her fully. So close.

Maybe he was not so difficult to understand after all.

"I'd like to know more about you. Boss told us he really loved your mother. Will you tell me about her?" There had to be a good opening here somewhere, a way to get him really talking. Traveler was beginning to see this as another kind of fight. A verbal battle with blows and counterblows to contend with instead of bullets.

"She..it's none of your business." Darnit, almost. Reaver didn't miss a pace as they walked on. The terrain here was mostly open and sandy, perhaps once it held something else. There were scattered pieces of ancient railway about.

So much of the old world was buried by time and the elements. Might they be treading right over something that was once grand and wondrous at one time?

"I'll tell you about mine. I loved them very much. They worked themselves so hard just for me. Both of them would tell me stories, and sing me to sleep and play games with me when I'm certain there was better things for them to do." Maybe this tack would work better.

"So did mine..once." Reaver said that so quietly Traveler was unsure she even heard it correctly.

"What was that?" If that was really what he said maybe this was working.

"Nevermind." Oh come on. Once more he was just flatly cold. There must be something she could say to finally push him past the edge and get something more to work with. Was he actively resisting talking to her about anything? That was a little strange. Maybe it was just too soon, but the possibility was definitely there. She was sure of it. They walked in silence for some time. Traveler fell back to speak with Tanner.

"How you holding up?" She could see he was having a hard time being around this pony.

"I'm okay. How can you stand this feeling? He makes me feel jittery and nervous and like I want to reach out and stab somepony!" He huffed a bit. That strange pocketed pack of his always looked odd.

"It gets easier. It doesn't stop but it does ease up some. Try to relax. He is not going to hurt any of us." Tanner was a bit bemused by her assurance of this fact.

"Are you really really certain? This far away from him and I still feel unsafe." He really was finding it quite hard to deal with these sensations.

"I think he is..broken somehow. I can't get him to talk about it yet, but I feel it. He has no one else. We need to be better than the pony that threw him away." Traveler tried to make Tanner feel more at ease for a while. Her reassurance was helping. He was looking a bit better already. Good.

"You have some very strange ideas, Traveler." Tanner began to loosen up more. With them all rested so well they were able to make great time during the first day. That must have brought them closer to their quarry, provided they really went this way. A short time later those always dim last rays of the thing they still called day would go away so they made camp.

Traveler hoped making this kind of time might also impress Reaver perhaps. This region had plenty of old dead wood around. None of them were concerned about making a fire with this kind of strength along with them.

"We are good on water for a long while, but we really need somewhere to top up our food supplies and soon. I figure between us all we have maybe a week and a half left if we're careful." Tasket made sure the point was taken.

"I can help you with that." Reaver surprised them by interjecting. He could?

"Uh, how is that?" Gunnar probably couldn't believe he would be offering.

"We have hidden supply caches all over Equestria. There is one near here. I can lead you to it." Reaver just stood there.

"Yeah, you could also be leading us straight into a trap." Tanner quipped. Reaver didn't respond to that.

"Tanner, stop it. We would be very grateful if you took us there in the morning." Traveler wondered if that little outburst set them back any with him.

"Will you be joining us for dinner, Reaver?" Tisket generously offered a plate.

"I will not require food for a long time. I shall rest now." Despite the bravado, he did still look pained as he moved off.

"Wait, you don't have to sleep away from us." Traveler motioned to where they would be sleeping, but he ignored it and settled some ways away from the fire. Not out of sight, but far from everyone.

"I can't read that guy at all. He is the only pony I have ever met I can get no measure on." Gunnar was perturbed by this.

"Probably the lack of eyes. They tell a lot." Tasket suggested, she was likely right about that.

"Who wants first watch?" Tisket volunteered when Gunnar asked.

"I'm not that tired anyway. You know the rotation." He got ready to begin patrolling the area.

"I don't like this. Should we really follow his lead? He might be setting us up you know." Tanner did not trust this at all.

"He hasn't done anything since daddy took off on him. Unless he does something then I don't see any problem." Gunnar was fairly open-minded about this.

"He's right, it doesn't do us any good if we can't trust him. Let him prove himself. If he does anything against us I will finish him off personally." Traveler promised them all she would actually do it if that became necessary.

"There is something we've been avoiding and we really need to consider it. What exactly are we going to do if we actually catch up to Boss? Just him being there felt like death itself was reaching out and squeezing my heart." Tasket truly did not want to face that again.

"Yeah, what was up with that? It was much worse than him." Tisket pointed over at where Reaver lay. He shivered a little. Traveler shook her head.

"I don't think there is any actual plan we could come up with that wouldn't become useless in seconds." She made a good point.

"We will just have to improvise. Besides, I think we have the worlds best at that right in front of us." Gunnar was looking straight at Traveler who found herself blushing softly.

"I said I would do whatever it took to help you, but I do not trust any of this." Tanner finished his meal and lay down to rest.

"He has the right idea. Everyone, sleep. Now." Gunnar urged everyone to get some. For the first time in a long while Traveler slept very peacefully. No bad dreams, no terrible feelings. Just sweet rest.

Their little campfire was down to embers by the time her turn for watch rolled around. It wouldn't be too long before dawn. They would set out immediately after breakfast. This detour for supplies would take extra time they may not have, but it would be useless if they ran out of food before ever reaching their destination. The pace was not difficult to keep up. The terrain was flat and easy to traverse. Reaver lead them northwest a bit further than it felt comfortable to go into an ancient forest stand. Some of the trees here were actually still alive. Sickly looking as anything else would be, but they did exist. They looked little like those depicted in Traveler's old storybook at home. Home, would she ever see it again?

Red tags appeared in Traveler's display. She waved a hoof back for them all to stop.

"Multiple unfriendly things up ahead. I don't know what." She informed the group.

"Does this cache have guards, Reaver?" She wondered if he neglected to tell them something.

"No." Was the only thing he said about it.

"Here we go." Tanner said. He was left to guard their cart and possessions while the other investigated a sort of indent into the tree stand ahead.

"What the?" Traveler didn't like the feel of this. Something that looked vaguely like ponies but somehow moving wrong were suddenly pouring out of and from in and around the trees, coming straight at them. Now what?

"Fire!" Traveler sort of yelped. The pony things began dropping. They didn't seem to bleed whatsoever. Of all horrors, as they got closer it could be seen they had no faces at all. What was this? As Reaver was so far ahead of the group a multitude of the things piled atop him and looked like he was buried beneath them.

"Reaver!" Tasket had her shotgun Pepper up and blasting away any that managed to get too close. None of them could reach him right now.

After a few moments they heard a terrible yell as the pile of pony creatures on Reaver were heaved off of him and he began smashing their heads together, crumpling them inwards. He was taking some kind of sick delight in the battle, even smiling as he cracked skulls and getting spattered in guts as he tore several of them apart. There was enough firepower between them all that the things ranks were beginning to thin out already. Less and less were running out from between the old trees. The fight was still intense. These things had no intelligence at all, merely galloping straight at the closest of them in a group. This made it easy to pick them off, but was chewing through precious ammunition. Fortunately the end was in sight.

Seeing Reaver enjoying this so thoroughly was disturbing. He was even laughing joyfully as he broke one of the things backs then swung it into another so hard it cracked. Despite this, he'd been bashed around multiple times by now.

"You alright over there?" Tanner actually called out to him. He'd been far enough back not to be involved in the fight.

"This is fun!" Reaver happily yelled as he wrapped his forelegs around two of the things at once and crushed them to death with sheer strength before dropping the lifeless bodies. Tanner wondered if Reaver was actually insane. It was nearly over. There were veritable piles of corpses laying about. With a horrid crunch Reaver bucked one of their heads clean off.

It went sailing through the air and landed with a disgusting squishing sound. With that it was over quickly as it began. The whole group gave a sigh of relief. Reaver was coated in gore all over. Eww. What were these things?

"Is that it? Aww." He said. What? Aww? He wanted more of that? Hearing this coming from him was almost more disturbing than the things themselves. He really was excessively strong.

"Are you hurt?" Traveler asked since he definitely was not fully healed yet. He looked annoyed by her question.

"I..I'm fine. Can't you see that?" Why was he so aloof about any question asked of him?

"Who cares? We just used up more ammo than we've fired this entire trip so far. This is bad." Tasket brought them back to reality. It wasn't too good. All told there were at least fifty of the weird pony creatures with no faces. How did they live?

"She is correct, that was a whole lot. We really need to find a place to stock up now. I'm almost out of magipacks for my pistols and I don't think there's much left of anything else either." The old griffon looked winded.

"Heya, you okay?" Tisket saw how he was looking.

"Yeah, just wasn't expecting that. Those things really caught me off-guard." Gunnar prided himself on being prepared.

Tanner brought the cart up and quietly spoke to Traveler.

"He could have been hoping they would kill us you know." He was suggesting this was on purpose.

"I don't think so, they tried to attack him too didn't they?" Traveler looked around at the carnage and mess. Ick.

"I guess you're right. I still don't trust him." Tanner was perhaps right not to. There was no way to tell yet. The unexpected battle was not that difficult, it merely drained their resources greatly and gained them nothing.

"Through here." Reaver walked up a little path hidden in the trees to a decent sized old shack.

"Not much to look at is it?" Tisket walked around the place.

"It's clear, and I can see through the cracks. There's no one here." Tisket pulled on the door, it creaked loudly. It was good to hear there were no more surprises waiting for them. This change of direction had taken nearly the whole day. It was ramshackle, but large enough for them all to fit inside comfortably. They'd have to spend the night here. There were a few ancient metal boxes and even a small kitchen. Reaver opened a rusty fridge to reveal a multitude of cans. They did not look in good shape by any means. It would have to do.

"Is this stuff safe to eat?" Tisket sniffed at the cans and backed up sputtering. Bleck. The smell actually seeped right through the cans.

"It's safe enough. These cans are sealed." Gunnar said. Traveler looked them over. Her suit did not reveal them to be bad in any way, but not very high in nutritional value. At least it was food of some kind, anything was better than starving.

"Yes the food is safe. As long as we can eat it who cares what it smells like?" She said.

"Thank you, Reaver. This will keep us going a good while." Traveler thanked him. He almost had the slightest hint of embarrassment. Was that really what it was?

"We could use this as a place to retreat to, should keep it in mind. Might be able to fortify it some as well." Gunnar had a good suggestion there.

"Maybe..I hope it doesn't come to us having to run away at any point. That is not the idea. We need to stop Boss, whatever it takes." Traveler would not let him get away with destroying what was left of the world. She hadn't seen Down Ranges radio tag yet, but he must be ahead somewhere.

Now they play the most dangerous game of all.

Warpony

Some select few continue to survive in these blasted lands nearly bereft of life, and find some further feeling of trepidation and dread falling upon them. Something is wrong in a way that gives to all a hesitancy to make any move, to take any chance as whatever this something is will affect the very future before them. All and every lingering life detects this malady upon existence, and looks furtively to the dim skies above. An all-consuming fear drapes itself across the remains of this. Something watching, waiting in the dark corners of the mind and spirit to reach out and smother those remnants of life. It is just ahead, biding its time. Somewhere in the ruins of the past it is stirring.

From the darkest depths of the past he had come, like some ancient nightmare of old unleashed upon the unsuspecting denizens of the long dead and silent wastes, bringing a tsunami of pain and turmoil trailing along with him. To every life he touches a simmering boiling pain is brought. This pony of war and death incarnate strides across the face of the world uncaring, save for his singular goal. The destruction of all that is and was and will be. This is his sole destination. The end of all things. What sort of madness can drive this lunacy? No mere dream is he, but one made flesh and terror brought forth by the machinations of the past. A mere pony no more, but an actual force of his own blazing a deadly trail ahead.

Brutality, torture and murder are all that he brings with him. An unknown wellspring of pain flowing from some unrealized depth. This pony knows of war, that which is truly brutal, of suffering and much worse things. This tremendous sort of pain is not meant to be embodied in the living. It is wrong. He is himself a blight upon all which may remain of good things. A spreading cancerous tumor on all that is real and right. Few stand in his way. Those that have, begin to learn this depth of outstanding extraordinary pain. This pony is a coldblooded killer of calibre unheard of. His hoofprints lead only to despair. Giving chase to this murderous enigma of life and reason is a dangerous choice.

Wherever his deadly gaze falls, ruin matches his stride. None who have stepped up were able to meet such a challenge thus far. He bears with him incalculable power, the sort which brought this poor world to ruin. Yet even this is not enough to end him. Some ludicrous confluence of ignorance and greed has created this monster. A pony out of time and place. An unbelonging puzzle that has no business among the living, but he is here nonetheless. Intended to die hundreds of years past this powerhouse of madness still treads the sands of the world. He is that which must not be. Foals night terrors and backwards dreams given shape and form to terrorize the waking world, an imbalance of such distressing nature.

He is thought to be little more than a legend, nothing but a dream. One of a scale of terror that simply cannot be. The path of death left behind this pony of the old world is miles upon miles of corpses and unreasoned retribution. The actions taken by this maddened pony are considered righteous and correct by him and his. Miserable ponies robbed of meaning and life follow him to their graves simply to feel like they serve some purpose, feeling as though any purpose is better than the nothingness surrounding them in the whole of the world. His reasoning is never explained to them. It does not matter. They have orders and follow them without question. Doing otherwise is unthinkable, and deadly.

With hollow gaze and grim determination to usurp the purview of the heavens he summons that which is antithetical to life itself. Perhaps a true immortal left to suffer, he grants as much pain to others as can be given. Anger, hatred and pure driven rage rise within and push to meet his one stated goal at any cost. This cost may approach a sum total of epic proportions rivaling the end of the great war itself. The damage his intention is set to cause is no matter to him whatever. This one was a survivor, a fighter. The memories of the past are things he recalls all too vividly and feed this insanity more and more. Is he of clear mind in this effort? Could it be he is merely out of his mind? It may be, but perhaps not.

His plans are always sound, his actions seeming unreasonable always result in ends and outcomes he wishes for. Is this truly madness? If he may succeed through such thorough planning and positioning can it still be counted as insanity? Each time he shows himself, darkness and horrors follow too closely. This sort of power always result in this kind of sorrow. There is no accounting for it. His shadow stands long over the wastes steeped in blood, though few know of him or his name. He has walked amid darkness so long the very light itself may not even be aware of his existence. He comes to rob life and limb from the good and the evil alike without compassion, empathy, sympathy or anything other than an empty hollow joy in it.

The wastes themselves shudder at the passing of his shadow. It is an all-consuming darkness the likes of which has never been known. Not even in the old world was such a thing conceived of. A pony so unwelcome to existence it shuns his presence. He may have the means to put an end to even that. Erasing all of everything in one massive blow is no easy feat to consider, yet here he stands on the cusp of success. Everyone feels that quiver in the dark, aiming ahead for them. A queesy shiver inside. He surveys the land ahead with such dead eyes.

"My name, is Boss." He whispers at the beginning of the end.

The truest of all terrors is one convinced he is correct.

Villainy Ballad

Through all the wastes a cold echo rings hollow, unheard. Silent and unheralded. All that yet dwell in this land emptied of life and spirit feel something deep inside. Some unknown dark come creeping among them in the quiet. A quiet that should not be concealing a soundless menace of grand import, lurking. This horror to stand above other horrors finally reaching out to engulf all the present. The world already knows monsters. This is something else, something worse yet again come to bedevil the world of the still living. Stark terror rises in the hearts of the bravest as this feeling passes by like a shot of cold wind. The dual worlds of light and dark gambling once more on the outcome of this most bizarre occurrence.

No mere monster does this feeling stem from. Every single life still clinging to the world notices the slightest change in the air as it passes. There is no accounting for the depth of despairing emotions this engenders. Furtive glances to and fro reveal nothing more amiss than expected, but it is there. Something powerful and dangerous beyond all reckoning. Seeking to strike a final blow against good perhaps, or, maybe it is just the depressive atmosphere surrounding. After all, what more and else could possibly present itself that is worse? The very light failed here, what more is there to fail? What further burden and misery could possibly be inflicted on those few behooved still intact in this blasted land?

The feeling only worsens. Something huge and awful and unforgiving is stirring, out there. In the vast tracts of devastated cities and towns. A vexing, sickening writhing thing raising itself among the darkened corners of some long-forgotten hall where nothing moves. It dare not. To set in motion something so dire is to condemn all which is good and right. What little of this still holds power here? If any, it is of no consequence. The responsibility of life has lain shattered for eternities of quiet contemplation. Destruction took the world to the brink and teeters on this knife-edge of imperfect balance. So close to total collapse a single action might tip the scale. One further gamble gone wrong may topple the rest.

The fires of true hope burn dimly, all but extinguished. Here, at this very moment, the pain of yearning begins to make itself known. A pain all have known, unnoticed or not. None wish to acknowledge it in the enduring darkness enforced from above, or dangers from below. Any number of miseries make themselves known across the land to one and all. There are no fortunate ones here. There are the living, and there are the dead. Occasionally perhaps, something in between. Hearts skip a beat while this distant toll is being demanded. A toll of reparation and broken lonely hearts that cannot be mended. This level of misery is too great for allowing that. What shall follow on from this murderous feeling of pain and sorrow?

No one cries out to be saved. Everypony knows nothing will answer such a call. The intelligent have been rendered the same as the insane. Some would say it fitting. Most would rather say nothing at all, and they do not. The wide and narrow streets formerly trod by all manner of passersby lay atumble. Does a city miss its inhabitants? The lively trot of hooves and rushing clawed alike with all their feelings and desires? Can a place contain such feelings to be presented so long after their passing? There were so many here long ago that maybe their echoes could remain, buried in the walls and cobblestone streets. Wanting a return to the vibrancy once afforded a great city. Or maybe it is only a passing thought.

The illness and urgency descending across the face of the world never felt before. That something so amiss in feeling is present alarms all despite their current struggles, whatever they may be. This is a pain so deep it carves into itself ever deeper only to suddenly lunge forth with a ferocity unheard of amongst the most wild of given stories. No matter the where, this feeling in the when hurts inside. From every dusty empty abandoned corner to the most populous remaining settlements, it can be felt. A disdain for them so great it transcends distance. The impact is perhaps not considered so great. It is just a passing feeling. A fright simply added to all others waiting to spring forth. An easily forgettable moment.

It is not so wise to forget when every slight and easily overlooked thing might just kill you. This slipping apprehension may be slight, but it is vast among the whole of things. Bated breath and too quiet minutes winding down as the ponies wonder. What was that? The faintest slightest flicker in the far immense reaches of Equestria. Is there no foundation of good left in the remains of ponies' greatest works? This wicked determination has set forth to wreak havoc most foul and run amok the entire country. If it might still be called a country. As anywhere else it lays fried and torn. Wherever one stands, it is felt. All-around and in the still air, silent as it has been for so many decades of illness given to the world.

No gift, but a tremendous conflux of forces clashing only to then lie still and dead save for the occasional outburst. Final gasps before an almost inevitable end. An end that may have already fallen upon the remainder. The truly dead are gone from here, pained no longer. The stale unmoving air itself if it could, seems as though dead in these lands once beautiful but now little more than shorn backdrop to devastation. Every remotely major city was struck to some degree when war finally sounded its final note before silence fell. A silence which has grown deeper ever since that one awful moment when everything stopped moving forward. It now grows deeper still.

This silence like a cancer grows, when it stops nobody knows.

Ghost

She has wandered, alone. All the quiet decades since the fall of Equestria and the whole world along with it. A hot fire so intense the all was left as ashen grey. All. The sum total of life made as a terrible joke. Whole countries turned a barren collection recalling memories of bright times and good lives for near all, or so it was imagined. This decline was precipitated by the most kind and considerate of acts: good intentions. With too much optimism behind the decision, wheels were set to turn and make a kind of blindness mandatory. It hurts so much.

A distressing silence fell even before bombs full of malignant fire and ancient forbidden magics rained from on high. No trial by fire, but an almost absolute end to descend upon all. No matter how good the intention, this..is where it lead. Empty life and hopelessness. In the endless dark, this apparition keeps to herself as if issuing a damning refusal to accept circumstances this unappealing to sight and hopeless feelings. A flitting figure at the edge of it all, a mere story passed between suffering victims. Faltering, dying and miserable for endless eternities of unconscionable pain.

Just another sad outpouring of the welling pain rising from within with nothing to hold it in check. Those sorts of things fell out of vogue long ago. Holding back did little good, it may actually have hastened the war to reach a head. Long as it was, some conflicts are much longer. The eternal tug between day and night is a far longer conflict. This one is as a haunt still roaming a near-dead world, seeking something only dimly remembered. Something old. Important. Special. Something she is not. Everything she does not possess. Terrifying in emptiness.

It burns inside like an upwelling font of desperation. It must be found or all is lost. All which remains. All that may yet be. Gone. To allow an all-encompassing silence take away the last vestiges of hope and determination. It has to be stopped. This much she knows, but that is all. There is nothing else. No kinship, no friendly faces. Nothing but the still wastes as her domain. An empire of dust and ruin left in the wake of sadness and unhindered pain given over as if a pleasant gift for everyone. Every rock, every tree, and plant. All those good things lost forever.

Every pebble and stone is imbued with that sadness as if the land just one gargantuan mausoleum left to no memory. She wanders this. Her eyes deadened and dull. Where is it? How do I get there? What can I do to stop it? Whatever it is. Some cataclysmic thing continues to burn within her mind. I must reach it. I must put an end to this. I cannot go on. Everything I do gets me nowhere, but nowhere is all that's left? How can I go somewhere when there is nowhere to go? Am I not already here? This is the full extent of all she thinks. There is nothing more and nothing else.

Given to wandering this landscape of torment and torture. Sometimes ponies think they saw something ahead. A griffon gave chase once only to find the same, nothing there. Who was she? Was that nothing more than an apparition? A hallucination perhaps. The wastes tease and taunt everyone sometimes. Seen and gone once again, or not. What is her purpose? A story to frighten the living out of their wits and little else? None can answer. Once a whole cadre of raiders sought her among the ruins in fever pitch. Much to their sorrow and further agony. Payment, perhaps.

They say you should not go chasing ghosts nor shadows. They are not wrong. It may lead you astray and into anguished peril. How many were lost this way who can say? More than enough. Following dreams is a deadly pursuit now as the world stands. She should not exist. Perhaps she doesn't. Just another crazy thing in a crazed place. Yet there she stands once more and again. It is just a mirage. A falsehood. It has to be. It must. No such pony roams the wastes. Time and again a story surfaces of a lone mare in the wastes. Nearing her is unnatural. Fearful. Lamentable.

These ponies carrying their tails between their legs in flight are laughed at for running from a mere shadow. What cowards they must be to gallop away from a potential treasure as her. Ponies brimming with beauty like that are not seen often and found even less. Encounters with her come and go in passing stories. Just something in the background. What else could it be? Probably just weary eyes and tired bodies making for belief in a non-reality. These are the wastes, they test everypony and everything else. Who can really say for certain? Some would love to meet her.

Most want to run and never stop or look back for fear. Fear she will actually be there when they look. Fear she is one of those things that will end you in an instant if so inclined. Fear she just might be real when they look again. Such is the nature of fear. It drives wild speculation and dangerous action. It is not meant to. Fear is to keep you wary. Keep you safe from harm and from making that one terrible mistake that will cost you it all. That one slip which can take your life from you and make the end of it little more than a caution for others. No way is she really there.

Why would there be such a thing? Pointless, everyone says. They jumped at shadows and bad feelings then ran for it. Hilarious. A joke for all others, but those who saw. They know the truth. Fear her, she is death crawling forth to swallow you in one fell swoop. Don't mess with her. Whatever she wants, leave her to it or face the consequences of your ill-considered actions. If you want terror, it is there with her. Some irresistible horror follows along with that one. Leave her be. That is not the kind of thing you want to wind up paying for yourself, and it demands a heavy price.

Let not this wandering sorrow to gaze upon you or come to know the true depth that pain and regret can attain. An abyssal chasm with no bottom in sight looming before you. That is what all the ponies who claim she exists say follows along with her. They are probably just insane like most others that wandered too far. Stay very far away. What can promote this tense feeling of misadjustment and malignancy in her wake? She is just a story like so many others. A fallen pony from the old days who can't let go. A ghostly vision, naught else. No such pony exists.

A hundred thousand more important problems exist to harm life without her added to the mix. This story persists throughout the years. Always she is looking for something. Someone. No one knows. Most run the other way, just in case. Some don't, only to be found missing or dead later. It probably wasn't her. An accident. A marauder. A monster. These things make sense. She does not. Why haunt an already dead world? Perhaps she could tell you if she was real. A ghost? No way is she there. Never. They were just all demented. Seeing things. Has to be.

With so many ways to die in a lingering world, there is little time to tarry and wonder over some story given by a passing stranger. A stranger that may very well mean to take your life at any moment. This is a meager existence punctuated only by pain and little pleasure to counteract it. The exaltation that was once morning passes and days still move on. A sluggish ticking of clocks that refuse to pass the hours. These pained moments seem to follow her story. Wherever she roams anguish flows past those unlucky enough to imagine they caught a glimpse of this endlessly sorrowful mare.

Never enough to prove she is there. Not really. Just misfortune. Nothing new in the wastes and deadlands. Hers suggests a hopeless journey. Following some given unwavering path. A circuit all round Equestria and back once more. Her story as one other comes and goes. There and not again, but the story keeps returning. A playful mare but don't you dare. Looking her way is fraught with death and danger. Trying to catch her an exercise in delusion and frustration, maybe even inviting death. What does this wanderer desire? Does she want anything? Can a ghost desire?

Is it her lot solely to invite those who seek her to their doom? Many sad ends have been had and many more await in the ruined recesses of Equestria. Life is harsh and hard, and death much too easy. Is she just a symptom of pained imaginations? A ghost story to caution those few willing to listen? If there is any aim it is lost on those who say she was right over that hill. Behind that rock over there. On top of that crumbling building. Take your pick, someone has seen her there. Maybe not. It was just yet more shadows. These ponies, however, felt it and shuddered.

The misery of this drudgery and endless fight for survival makes such things a rare luxury to dwell on. So they saw a mare that wasn't there, who really cares? We have to find food. Water. A place to hide. To live. Important things. Much more than a slightly creepy story concerning a mare of old. What would a ghost want anyway? Their problems were over a long time ago. Everyone that yet lives has far more important things to worry about. Large swathes of Equestria lay as mostly inaccessible. Maybe not for ghosts. Even near these, she was there. How can it be?

A lone wandering soul is one thing. A true haunt? Unimaginable. Unbelievable. There is no such thing. Just pained memories longing for something more perhaps than this endless mire of misery and regret the ancient ones left behind. Their only legacy one of such sorrow no one comprehends the scope. This was not over a mere country, but everything. Ideology, culture. Over these things the ponies of old did wage an increasingly violent and bitter war, becoming very good at it along the way. Some might say too good. So good they all managed to kill each other.

To a point of losing themselves and what made them who they were. Compared to this what is one wandering spirit? Not even a drop in the bucket. Who was she? Who is she? Time and again she returns to trouble and disturb the natural in an already disturbed existence. Years pass, ponies come and go and so does this story. Some come to find comfort in the idea of her, this story that returns. A pony that managed to break death? Good for her. Somepony you could actually take pride in? Who would have imagined that? You could be much worse off. Most are. Far more.

Come get me, please. Some come to say they would join her. Just to end this loneliness. The story of this sad mare inspires to fruition cultish behavior giving rise to menace and madness. Just a story? Maybe, but it is enough. A seed is given just enough nourishment to grow into its own insanity. Who would have thought? No matter. It is still nothing but a rumor of a phantasm. Something incorporeal and unreal wandering? What a joke. That one was pretty funny, friend. Her supposed presence even leads to fighting and death. If she really was there, what would she care?

You have likely just done that guy a favor. Maybe you even saved them from greater pain further on down the road. Who can say? From time to time the story gets something added to it. A minor detail here. Some embellishment to some tiny point or other. In the end, what does it matter? She would as likely be coming to destroy as help you. Like everything and everyone else. Such visions are not all that uncommon are they really? Not with the world stuck as it is and still. So quiet. Years go on and on. So does she. Once more this story reasserts itself. Again. Again.

Who could fathom this? Why this one? Out of all others, why her? Why this particular story? There are dangers and immediate threats of far more importance in the wastes than something one tells around a campfire. If you are daring enough to make a fire that is. Quite often attention is the last thing you want to garner from who or what is out and about today. Especially things like her, they would say. Give her a wide berth and get gone before it is too late. Getting caught up in her story is apt to make you into nothing more than a story yourself. A fate no one is seeking.

Not like that. Not that way. Nobody wants this to be their end. On it goes, and her. Why does she trouble the wastes? Is there not enough injury to the living already? More than enough, certainly. On and on. Do her wanderings have meaning? Do any? Rarely, one might wonder for a brief moment before getting on with the business of not being just one more such figure added to an increasing pile of nonsense claims. The mare walked through an old minefield and not one single scratch on her? Impossible. You were seeing things you dolt. We have to go. Now.

You saw one of those crazy ancient machines hit her right in the chest with some kind of missile and she lived? What wild claims. Who would ever believe it? Nopony walks out of an explosion like that. No one. Never. There is no armor in the world that thick they say in retort. Maybe they just don't want to believe such a thing may be among them at this very instant. Choosing some strange moment to show herself and vanish once more. This must be an untruth. Someone just spreading rumors. What else could it be? Rumors make sense. She does not.

There is little enough hope without some menacing mystery mare out of sight always trodding about the world wreaking havoc in her wake like everyone was a plaything for her own personal amusement. What possible bewildering array of circumstance could possibly have lead to her existence? Just a rumor somepony accidentally started one day? Maybe. Who can say? What can be said is some believe she roams the wastes. An enigma of the dead world. Sometimes the poor mare is used as an excuse for further bloodshed. It's all her fault they claim. It was her!

No one really thinks it was her. Such a mare doesn't exist. How funny. They still say it was. A scary story that refuses to die off, much like her. Nothing but a shadowy figure in the dark. Nothing else. She cannot be there. They still run from her. It's not worth the risk. It was probably something else anyway. We can all have a good laugh later, but where did that other guy go? No one ever finds him. It's alright, he likely just made a mistake and went where he shouldn't have. It happens. Silly guy, cheers. Maybe he found a better life out there. He probably just lost his.

He actually lived long enough for someone else to remember him in passing at least. It definitely was not her fault. She's not real. Throughout all the silence she remains. Once more a passing story. Who could she be that brings with her such cold and sad feelings? A crazy traveler mistook for her perhaps. There are more than enough of those. Nobody could possibly think such a mare truly exists. They would have to be even crazier themselves. Such a conundrum. Then a wandering caravan conveys a most chilling experience. It was her. We swear it was!

Taking on a glowing creature hoof to hoof. Wearing clothes only the ancients could have had. She tore it apart without so much as a care in the world and not a single injury. Impossible. Nopony can do that. What if? No way. No ghosts fight ghouls. What would that even mean? So silly. You all must have drank too much of that old stuff. Haha. Strong isn't it. There she goes again. This time a patrol of rangers see her gallop past as if they weren't yelling at her to stop and open fire to find they hit nothing. Their report cannot explain anything. Not one single thing.

After searching for two full hours they were forced to give up and run for it themselves. No blood, no nothing. What is wrong with you two? Waste precious ammunition again and you will really get it. She was right in our sights, we swear. Up and gone again. A lengthy period passes and yet her story remains. Continual, ever-present. Something amiss amongst the whole. What is her purpose? Somehow this apparition persists across it all. Everywhere, nowhere. Is she a warrior? A ghost? A god of old? A legend? Whatever she is, the mare does not leave a hint in passing.

If she ever really passed at all. This way. That way. The old signpost says this was a train station. Whatever that was. Lookout. She's gone and another mare dead along with her. A companion lost to myth and misery once more. Is she a portent of death? An announcement the hammer is about to fall on those unfortunate enough to notice her presence? Perhaps nothing at all. It was just an accident. Old places are dangerous after all. We lost another one, best move on. Before we see her again. A host of real enemies lie in wait. Ignore her reality at your own peril.

Some take this advice to heart, and live. Pay no attention to her insubstantial hoofsteps and you will fall hard. A lesson learned in the most difficult way. Leave her alone, and live. Fail in that and fail completely. Whatever event brings her along to spread such despair must have been terrible indeed. Something awful, almost certainly. What horror and dismay could possibly have been horrific enough to cause a ghostly mare to rush about the wastes on some endless journey? Does she cause death or forewarn of it? None know. None among the living anyway. Poor souls.

Only one single thing coming from her is certain, sadness. The kind of despairing sorrow that drains wills and makes hearts shiver in the dark and gloom. Desperate to hide. Evade her wrath. Please go away. Too late. Is she unforgiving? Simply inconsiderate? You idiot, she was never there at all. Just another mistake and now they're dead. Get on with it. Gone again. Run. Run away from her and do not look back. Leave her be and we might survive this. That proved to be the right decision. Some still make the wrong one and pay for it dearly. Is she an angry vengeful spirit?

Getting in her way is akin to asking for it to be over in a flash, and it most certainly will be. Daring to tackle this one is not a choice. Leave and survive or stay and die. There is no other option with her. At least enough have heard about it now to avoid that inevitable destruction she carries with her. Such a meandering path is strange amongst the strange. What is her destination? Is there a purpose? Crossing paths with this mare of deathly stories leads to quaking hooves and shivering bodies. It seems only ice and death linger in her wake. So cold. Freezing and fiery at once.

Sowing sorrow and pain as if in some vile reverence of her. On she wanders between destroyed village and ancient town ruins. Vexing the still living with her potential. Who is she? Some manner of devilish horror come calling or just another story? Whatever gave rise to her must be one of those things so terrifying it is nameless. An unknown amidst the smothered world. A misery so deep it gouges the very reality around her wanderings. Silly they say. Such a mare was never there. That time it was just being in the right place at the wrong time, or maybe she was.

They all come to quiver. Such a divide in truth is a deep unknown never heard of before. The world is mostly gone. It has no need of ghosts and specters to run amok through the remainder. An infinity of more important issues stands before those who yet live. A new piece added once more. This wild mare mutters and mumbles, crying as she passes. Does she embody the sadness of the very soul itself? A mare that passes only in such apparent sorrow and dismay. Some few have dared seek her out. None have returned from this self-appointed task. Gone. Vanished.

Whoever she is the sadness in her eyes is the most drawing thing. Does she hate all who live? But once more she is just a passing story. No truth to be had there most say. They still give any report of her a wide berth if she is noted to be near. Time and once again this unknown pulls those around her into some untold vortex of suffering as though a walking fountain of misery given over to actual form. Those that do not deem to run from her are taken to some unknown fate. No clue as to her having so much as padded by in silence is left. Only the damage and incredibly deep pain.

Like a festering wound inflicted on the already suffering landscape. The scope of her presence can only be guessed at. Is she real? Some ponies that believe whisper about her in hushed dread, afraid of attracting her attention. I want none of that they say. Let somepony else face her, if they're skilled or just plain stupid enough to try. Why take that risk? The wastes can kill you just by being the wastes on a daily basis. Wandering to live is one thing. Taking a path almost certainly involving death is quite another. You can only die if you try it. Do something else with your time.

There is enough pain without throwing yourself to such misery willingly. For all you know she might be pain incarnate. Maybe she was never there at all. Taking something like her on is a deathwish of the most absolute sort. Just fire your old gun at yourself for that kind of foalishness. It will probably be faster than whatever she brings with her. Submitting yourself to be crushed in an instant by something like that, utter folly. Whatever that supposed mare really is, she's stronger than you no doubt. Death might as well be her name. Wanna risk it? You go right ahead.

I'm leaving. The more intelligent say. The others do not fare so well. Whatever her purview is, best avoid her path. Such a mare will only gift to you her own sorrow and tears the story says. It is told endlessly. Tuck tail and get thee gone. It is the only way. So huge an amount of destruction can surely only follow some hideous thing. Who would want anything to do with that? Is there some pattern? Any semblance of reason in this purported souls wanderings? An end goal? Might she be present only to inflict damage and nothing more? That would seem a rather shallow goal.

What sense would that make? Whatever it may be, she still roams the empty roads and byways. So they say. Only doubt can flow forth over such a story. Why would anypony need a story of more misery here? There is plenty enough to go around without it. Next time it was just a couple of poor wanderers huddling in the dark, starving. Afraid of and hiding, from her. The oddest thing though. She ignored them entirely, running past mumbling while dropping ration packs every which way. A veritable mountain of food. They weren't starving anymore. Good food, not rations!

Somehow both horrified and grateful, they lived to tell about it. Yeah, right. Sure she did. You two must have been even more out of it than you say, of course no one believes it. Those two know better than to question and just accept it. Time to move on. Maybe she's not so bad? Silent years continue to come and go, slowly as ever. As does the pain. Do haunts have ambitions? Desires? Is she just an indignant pony upset with the state of things? Few dare openly speak of her. More disaster is not something to invite so readily. Somewhere out there, roaming. Perhaps.

It's still only a little spark of a story. Nothing more. What else could it be? Most of the living know little more than desperate survival. She must just be another. That has to be it. Right? It happens again. A slightly better group who struggle has survived a relatively long time. Their luck nearly ended. Cornered by a group of monstrous things they cannot begin to describe, but then.. she was there. A destroyer they all say. This harrowing mare plowed through them like she was completely insane. Not a care given for slicing claws, terrifying magic or anything else. Anything.

None of them stood a chance. The monsters that is. Muttering and crying the whole time. The stunned group could only look on in shocked silence. Realizing they best leave right now or waste such a boon of opportunity to continue living. She left them alone as well, but why? Everyone says you die around her. What did we do to deserve her indifference? As they should, it isn't questioned too hard. Allowed to live, why ask and risk it being taken away? Does she ever cease her seemingly aimless travels and travails? If any purpose is behind it, it is beyond mere comprehension.

The one thing they are is thankful. They're alive and unhurt. A true bonus. Who cares if anybody else believes them or not? Purported incidents of the like pile up but so few and far between a connection is impossible to make. Just enough time winds up passing between to make connecting the dots unlikely. Who is she? What is she? Perhaps most important of all, why is she? Save your tail and run they say. Ignore this simple warning at your peril. Does death and doom actually trail along behind her? Who could warrant that? Calamity and nonsense. Falsehoods.

Disbelief goes a long way towards suppressing this type of thing. Again however, it happens. Some get it into their deluded minds to take her on once again. It goes exactly as expected, badly. They haughtily boasted and claimed they would be the ones to put an end to her. The four had this backwards. Well-prepared. Ready for a real fight and they apparently got it. It is said the fight lasted for half an hour, followed by absolute silence. Lots of bullet holes, shell and energy casings. Damaged chunks and pieces of serious armor and one formerly standing buildings remains.

What happened? They were never found. At least they went out doing what they wanted to do. Much more than many can say. If those many were able to say anything at all that is. Some like to go out with a bang. Going down with an epic fight to some is the absolute best way to go out. They got it. Everyone says so anyway. The reality? Nobody knows with certainty, but disappearing into thin air is not a nice thing to consider. Everything hurting so horribly can only leave desperate desire in its wake. For relief, succor, happiness. Freedom from this madness and pain.

Countless endless horrors and miseries already freely traverse these once gloried lands. Bringing terror and misfortune. There is no need for more travesties and abominable sicknesses of sight and spirit. Sometimes even the very sounds around are haunting, frightening even the most stalwart hero. Those playing at it anyhow. Would-be heroes fall and fail very often. Perhaps this shadow is something more. Out of time and place maybe. Whoever should come upon this mystery best be wary. Hear of it, tuck tail and gallop as fast as legs will carry. Might as well be racing the wind.

This cyclic drumbeat of time supposedly passing is unnoticed by most. It is too far apart, so slow the beat is missed. What a beat it is. There she is again. Somepony else actually saw her and lived. Why? Because he didn't dare act against her. Maybe. He just wanted to live. Maybe she let him. In rushing past he says she tripped and a huge bag of caps landed before his hooves. Ghosts can trip now? Swearing up and down the deadly ghost mare did it. No one believes that. What use has a ghost for caps? They need not eat, drink, care or just about anything else. It must have been someone else.

Some kind of accident or incident. Never her. If it really was you would surely have died. No one escapes her so easily, or do they? If she does roam this horrid land, she is as unconcerned about you as can be. For a time the poor stallion spent many of his days hiding away, scared stiff of insulting the spirit that gave such bounty so freely. Granting a boon like that doesn't happen every day. Finally, in reverence he spent his wealth just as freely it was given. Going so far as to try and make the world a better place to live. In some ways he succeeded. Creating a reasonably safe place to live in the process.

Unlike so very many, he died of old age. Happy. Beloved by those around him, a smile gracing his muzzle. Very few get to finish that way. Fewer still ever get the chance. Was this his reward for humbly accepting her presence? Bah. He just got lucky they all say, naturally. Ghosts do not go around throwing piles of caps at strangers to improve their lives. If that was the case why is everything so bad? Yet, no one killed him to take his treasure. Maybe they were scared it was her after all. After he died it was found he'd just spent the very last cap. Helping others. What a crazy thing to do.

Oh, he was just so crazy no one wanted to tangle with him, that's all. Not getting caught up in that. This is their excuse. He was crazy on such a level nobody dare touch him. That has to be it. The one thing they don't say is where it all came from. No one just comes by that many caps. There was even a little mound of old equestrian bits in amongst it all. A small fortune back then they think. Nopony is quite assured of that. There is no old mare giving out vast wealth. There just isn't. You'd have to be crazy yourself to believe there is. Some start to believe anyway. So it goes.

Somewhere in one of those inhospitable patches of land cut off from the world where monsters seek and kill for their own survival a pony and their unfortunate companions found themselves trapped. Surrounded by a haze of death and razor sharp teeth flashing in the fog. Accepting death was about to take them, the most ludicrous thing happened. A glinting little light in the swirling dark. Another monster, even worse? A gorgeous mare walked by them, paying no need. They tried to stop her, but she was already stepping into the infested miasma around them.

Stop! They cried. Then the slaughter began. What a horrifying experience, to see a foalish pony ripped apart. Wait, that's not what happened at all. There was a slaughter indeed, but it was not her. The party dare not take one single hoofstep until suddenly the fog cleared in an oddly straight line following her path. The true horror was then exposed. The flattened, crushed, ripped bodies of monsters hacked and slashed to pieces as if an even greater beast destroyed them all without a seconds hesitation. They were saved and rushed down the path. The mare was gone. Not one drop of her blood to be seen.

What a battle it must have been. No. Not a battle. This was outright destruction. Savaged, mutilated corpses of the things they'd been so very afraid of. Gone in an instant. She must be a goddess. A pony of old. Only legend and fire and righteous fury could possibly have done this much damage. It has to be her. That mare no one thinks is real. It was! We are still here. Run for it. These ruins can stay untouched. We want nothing to do with that kind of unstoppable power. We must be like tiny annoyances to one like that. Stay out of her reach whatever you do.

Who was that? What was she? You cannot argue with this one. We all saw it. She saved our lives. Don't be silly. So some fog cleared up, not a big deal. Of course the monsters stayed hidden in it. Just what they do. But..No buts. There are no such things going around saving ponies lives. Most do not listen. So many titles for her. Working their way up. Ghost, haunt, mystery mare, warrior of old, goddess. What else can she be? To stride untouched through that. Who else could possibly have managed? Their whole group was going to die alone. Did she really save them?

Ancient highways and byways sit idle, falling apart from age and seeping decay. Could such a mare actually set hoof upon these mysterious construction of ancient ponies so long dead no one really remembers the how or why of it all? They must have been gods. Look at all they built somehow. You're wrong. If they were gods why are they all dead? Can gods die? How about ghosts? Why don't you try killing one and find out? No? Not so brave now are you? The best choice you could ever have made. You can't kill ghosts or memories of them. You sure about that?

High on a decrepit tower built in ancient times she was seen standing atop. Nobody could possibly get up there without being bewinged or otherwise able to fly. Utter nonsense. So much as setting hoof in that place would be just asking to die. No really, she was right there. Get real. We have better things to do right now. Once more she goes unheard and unheralded. If there is such a wanderer she is either mad or far more powerful than appearances suggest. Let's not and allow someone else to take the fall. They both survived that day, minorly injured. Not bad at all.

The old world still asserts itself here and there. Dangerous old things still work sometimes. Who saved you? We have no idea. This makes no sense. Don't question, just worship her for saving your miserable lives. Worship? Just do it and be grateful she didn't do the same thing to us. Okay. Let's get away from here. That is a very good suggestion. I want no part of that. No one really does. Why does this keep happening? Sighted, saved, helped, killed. No she did not. They just went the wrong way and never came back. It happens a little too often. Of course it does. Why wouldn't it?

Unending miles of dead terrain and tormented lands still find themselves trespassed by a host of discomfiting encounters serve only to grow the myth, the legend. Why does anypony still try to bring her down? A feeling so chill as she passes it is as deathly simmering cold to flood the senses and leave one quaking on their hooves or whatever they possess. Going after her is akin to fighting the air around you. An impossible task, don't do it. One fires accidentally in her direction. A screech is heard. What was that? Cautiously they push forward to find a dead bloodwing lying there.

A perfect headshot without ever seeing it. Was this her doing? It was my bullet. Dead on. If that hadn't happened we would've walked right into it. She saved more lives again. I'm the one who shot it. Go. Now. Before she comes back. In galloping away was heard thumps and buildings crashing to the ground. If we hadn't left that would have been us. Good call. Leave her be or pay too heavy a price for your grievously bad judgment. More worship for her. Does she even want to be worshiped? Does a mare like that want anything at all? Nobody understands this one.

You do not go seeking the thrill of crossing her path. That is always a poor decision. Likely the worst possible one. Let us go die some other way. I would rather be seen. Trying to put an end to a meandering herald of misfortune is only for the obsessive and the insane. Trotting off to that end can only lead to the throes of anguish for the misguided. Woe take you if you make the attempt. Glory is worth exceptionally little with a price that weighty. She may not be there, but other horrific things certainly are more than willing to put your mettle to the test. Better them than her.

Run with us, or die broken beneath the cast of that mare's shadow. Wherever it lands only stinging wounds can come from it. She is said to be a most beautiful lady. Looks can be deceiving. Your eyes may fall to deceptions. Do not trust what truth they perceive. This chilled procession of unnecessary affliction conveys only a single thing in the passing. Harm. An abusive service in search of an unknown end. Mischief and mayhem abound wherever she is concerned. Marring the very world around her further than the suffering it has already endured for all this time.

Is she an outrage? Or an outrageous thing herself? There is no accounting for this one. Far across the distant lands this mare is said to wander. Everywhere. You cannot escape her presence. Letting her gaze fall dead upon you is the greatest risk. Possibly a risk with great reward some say. Some also say if you want to play that game go elsewhere. You have a better chance of living through it. There may be no reward without risk, but the price of her game might well be your life itself in the playing. Much better bets exist to tackle. One's that possibly won't result in killing you.

Equestria is a haunted enough place without an actual ghost stepping hoof upon it. Maybe she is relentless. Perhaps it really is nothing more than mere stories passed around to ease the hurt. Is this mare a transgression against nature as so many other things now? It is a possibility, but does it fit? She saves ponies lives. No, she kills them to be dragged off to some unknown fate. The depth of this confliction would be legendary if anypony realized it was even happening, but none see the whole puzzle here. The overall picture of the world as it lay. What wanders the passes and hills.

It is too small for noticing that way. The right size to be misunderstood, misjudged, forgotten about. Dismissed as naught but dire untrue imaginings to make sense of things. Is this what they call a bane of existence? A conundrum so foul that squaring off against it may well be impossible? This time it was just a bunch of slavers. Good riddance, but what happened to them? That mare did it! Yeah, sure she did. No really, she did! Bah. No way did a single mare take all of them down at once. What are you, out of your mind? They don't believe it. One does, and even she is unsure.

Unsure of the meaning behind what was witnessed by sad tired eyes barely clinging to existing. Then the mare was there. A frightening apparition that fell upon them out of nowhere in the dark. A slashing rending distribution of sufferance equal to all they had inflicted on others. She watched in wide-eyed amazement and one after another was brutally extinguished in front of her in detachment and wonder. Watching her tormentors meet their demise in utter shock. Expecting any moment to be torn from life herself only for the mare to walk off into the dark without so much as a second look.

The slavers were all dead. So fast and absolute in totality were they extinguished the enslaved themselves did not realize it until the next morning. They were free to do as they pleased. We better go now. Offers like that are not extended very often. The mare who saw them all fall said nothing and set out on her own lonely journey that would become legend in its own right. Shaken to the core in the witnessing, her resolve to do something worthwhile was strengthened and out she set. Fully prepared to accept whatever else might be thrown at her. It was a long hard path.

Some say she died a true hero herself. Maybe it's just a joke. That never happened. No one mare could have possibly meted out that kind of destruction against so many at one time. You must be mistaken. It is just a story. Why would anyone ask to die that way? Were she real it would be a laugh for her. What an absolute pity anyone decided that was a good path to take. This is unreality. A pining for better things that will never receive a response. If there is anything above the world they are not listening to us little ones. There is no such thing. Not possible.

This lonely wandering mare that brings great goodness or evil or whatever it is wherever she may deem to appear. How can one carry that much misery and joy around the entirety of the wastes? There seem no bounds to her. You cannot travel that distance so quickly by any means. Not a chance. What remains of old papers here and there verify this is the case. The old ones themselves could not travel that quickly. What makes her so special as to be better than them? Hold her up as something to bow before or tremble in fear. It does not matter which one.

She is or she isn't. Both are possible. One or the other. Could it be both? Is she there and not? A dire conflict of reasoning sits behind that one. There is no stopping her. This story is without limitation or imitators. Nopony with the slightest amount of reason wishes to be the object of her ire. Some tell that mare is the best thing that ever crossed their path. Many say the exact opposite. None now know why they were spared this mares anger, given a boon instead of more pain. Why does she do these things? Does she exist or just another delusional imagination brought forth from misery?

The world is dead, or so close to it the end is practically in sight for all to see. They still do not see it. Somehow, the living struggle onward. Devoid of true hope or any real reason to press forth. Some do anyway. Looking for some retribution from the world for their suffering, hoping against hope the dark mires and empty valleys will offer up something in return for their steadfast adherence to existence. There is little chance of this. Not when things like her spring up and kill what hope remains. That's not what she does at all, she brings hope and salvation! Which is it?

A mare like that? She is the greatest of all monsters. A beast herself of untold power, enough to reckon and let fall judgments hammer directly on those unfortunate enough to displease her. That must be what she is. No, she is an angel sent from the very heavens themselves to help us. Why would either of these things be? Her hoofsteps bring only destruction and death I tell you. That is wrong. The reason behind her an enduring mystery with little clue. She is either true or untrue. she cannot be both of these things. That wouldn't make any sense at all.

Years still manage to tick by in silence, slow. A grinding gear that never turns, stuck in one position where no moments pass by. To let dread and the deepening silence become ever worse until only the slightest glimmering flicker of a candle remains. In this kind of darkness that little spark becomes its own sun. A sphere of such fragile hope it could be extinguished by the slightest misstep. One minor misguided effort and all is to be undone for all time. Light thrown off by this singular flame drawing far too much unwanted attention to itself. Given no choice in the matter.

Where did they go, those ponies of old that built all we see and know? Who left us this country of dirt and grime and creeping decay soon to engulf all? Is this mare one of them? One of those ponies who gave us nothing but empty horrors? There she is again. Doing whatever she does. There must be some purpose to her. There is no reason for her otherwise. Always there and gone again. The next group to encounter her says she walked straight through an old poisonous lake pouring out magical radiation so extreme no one could so much as approach it. Straight through.

No one would try that. Not us nor anyone else. Armored or not it is impassable. The completely suicidal dare not approach it either. It is that bad there. Forget about it and move on. The remainder do their best not to consider what that sight was or meant. If it meant anything whatsoever is lost upon.

Seems they all left in quite a hurry.

She Really Hated That Science Oven

One decade before war end:

"You wildly worthless piece of trash. Why..won't..you...work ya useless garbage heap!?" The very upset slightly lime-coated earth pony slammed the door of the object of her ire with a hind hoof and much to her surprise it whirred to life. An older model of scientific apparatus built by a company whose name was long smudged off the machinery before it was ever obtained.

"What a hunk of junk. Why do they only give me this stuff to work with? This equipment is nearly useless now." She sighed and continued working on other assigned tasks.

Tasks given by the headmare of the Ministry of Arcane Sciences no less. They were skewed and odd works. Why these particular works were given over to her was an unknown. A very junior scientist in a fairly large staff. These work quarters were quiet and not well maintained at all. She was merely told these experiments were considered a high priority. Oddly, she was the only one assigned to these tests. They seemed easy enough to run. The sort of thing main groups would never bother over lack of time to perform them. Some of them were quite long-term.

Whatever the reason, she was given a surprisingly large budget and amount of leeway to approach the tests. Why the ministry chose her was a complete mystery. There was one addendum. Only report all results directly to the headmare once per year. None other. No staff member or other eyes were ever to see them. This was the most unusual request, but coming from on high as it were gave an air of prestige despite the odd state of affairs surrounding it. Some of the other scientists were even visibly jealous of her being given such a weighty position at first.

These things were not her concern. The real concern was why she was only being allowed to use antiquated equipment nearly on the verge of being completely obsolete. This was an order that must be obeyed coming from the ministry. This made little logical sense. If they wanted such secretive and important results why all the massively outdated tech? Modern machines would be half the size and some would more than half the complexity of utilizing them. This was so extremely unusual. Occasionally she would have to resort to sourcing parts from all over.

It was becoming more and more difficult to keep all this instrumentation operating, calibrated and otherwise functional. Let alone performing some of the more complicated things on the workscrolls. Headway was being made however. Years piled on as this work continued, hidden from potentially prying eyes in such a way that even if it was discovered it would be indecipherable except to her and the headmare herself. Given a living and expenses stipend so large was nearly unheard of. Twilight was effectively royalty after all. The princess own protege in fact.

Naturally the ministry budgets dwarfed this by leagues which made this quite easy to conceal. It was practically a minor expense to them. Hardly worth a note on report scrolls. Under their auspices and with their authority she could do whatever she wanted so long as it continued the work. One year. Three years. For the scientist they were slow, but still productive. She filed her reports and was rewarded well for doing so. Even given time off at reasonable intervals. What an oddity this was while the entire country was on a war positioning. Times were getting rough out there.

She knew this. Her own fiancee went off to fight three years before to never return. With grief in her heart and mind she turned to the pure work of scientific discovery to keep her thoughts off it, becoming a truly learned student in the process. To be granted this position, chosen by Twilight herself was an immense honor for one so young. Whatever the headmare was after, she wished to provide it. If all of these strange tests meant so much to her she would continue to plow through them as difficult as they could be. This was an enormous responsibility.

Her reasoning concluded using this type of equipment would garner little to no attention. Perhaps that was the meaning behind being given all this barely functional technology. She learned as she went. Sometimes forced to improvise when parts simply no longer existed to be found or salvaged. It was strangely satisfying keeping these things in some semblance of working condition and even managing to get decently accurate results. The tests themselves were almost a bore in comparison. Long, tedious and time-consuming. They must be really important.

What she could not piece together was the end goal of this. Clearly there must be a reason, but after four, six, eight years of this it was becoming tremendously wearing. Especially concerning the large pressure vessel chamber. Immense enough for multiple ponies to walk inside it was once a terrifically expensive construction of steel and pipes, valves and safety mechanisms to prevent one from accidentally being roasted, frozen, magically disrupted or any other number of terrible potential hazards it presented. She was disgusted with this gigantic mass of failure.

It finally hummed to life after that hard kick. It would almost be funny if it wasn't becoming a commonality between everything. Sometimes just plain hammering on things brought them back to life. Ridiculous. Finally, the tenth year was about to pass, none knowing what was about to collapse in upon the whole. That day there in the lab sitting behind the door of the open pressure vessel she was greeted by a most unexpected sight. A large basket full of fruits, wines, cheeses and a letter of congratulations and recommendation from Twilight herself. Her work was completed.

'I am ever so grateful for all of your hard work. Take this as a token of my appreciation and gratitude. We've done it.' Read the note within. Done what? She read in stunned silence and glanced about at the hated machines she would finally be free of. Despite not knowing what grand accomplishment she contributed towards, this kind of award was an amazing get. A letter of commendation from that far above would open so many paths. It was so hard to take in she began crying and then smashing on the chamber with her hooves in some sort of demented glee.

Laughing all the while. Huffing heavily she finally stopped after hammering and bucking it as hard as she could multiple times, not really having inflicted any damage on such a heavily reinforced thing. Barely a dent or scratch on it. Three weeks later she was visiting the little office beside the pressure vessel to clear out the remainder of her things. Unfortunately for her the most terrible timing of all conspired to make her look up in terror as the building began to shake considerably. Warning alarms indicated the magical shielding was near collapse. Was the lab complex being attacked somehow?

"What's happening!?" Of course there was no one near to hear her cry, and most likely consumed by confusion themselves. There was no way to know what was going on from in here. As the building began to collapse from the immense blastwave around it she had little choice but to fling herself through the open pressure vessel door and heave it shut from inside or be crushed by mountains of falling debris. The hefty steel door clanged shut with a disturbing finality just as everything went black.

I guess she really did hate that science oven.

Tears of The Broken

What is roaming these, the wastes, unbidden? So dark and terrible it holds no name. With it comes naught but ruin and pain. Sorrow, despair, loneliness. Empty wants and terror so unknown it defies any worldly description. It wanders some disturbing path from beginning to end, desiring only to end all. Can this be a true desire? Why would anything want that? It makes little sense. Perhaps none can fathom the real reason behind this conundrum of reality. A reality which almost seems to be slipping away bit by bit. Some slow decay of a nature most dire. Some things are unstoppable. The endless march of time, slow as it is does continue even in this. Almost two centuries since everything stopped, and yet life is here. Wanting.

A most desperate hour and the chase is on as wearied hooves traipse about the land. Terrified of their own quarry, but on they must go. He is somewhere out there, ahead in the dim and dull. Almost daring them to try stopping him. He cannot be left to his own devices. He has proven himself to carry sufficient power to make his threat more than mere fancy. Claiming true immortality is quite a statement. Not one to be made lightly in this miserable and bereft world close to extinction. Why in the whole of things does he exist? How? His very words hurt and ring in the ears of those who have heard them. His hoofsteps bring with them only damage and death in their wake. He must be stopped they tell themselves.

In the back of their minds however rings a haunting question; What if he is correct? If he has told the truth then he has suffered more than any other. A destroyer who wishes only to destroy himself by any means. Does this give him the right? It is a painful supposition. His quest to end himself may mean the end of everything else along with him. His pursuers wonder, can we do this? Can we rightfully make the decision to stop him? The wastes have never been fair or just, but what has befallen him is beyond the norm. He is out there somewhere. Perhaps lying in wait as some spider might. He is a pony, we have to try and get through to him some of them say. The others just want this to stop. It is unnerving and wildly wrong.

Does he not deserve a chance? He is a murderer, but is it truly his fault? This is not what any of them expected to face. Something is off about everything since encountering his son. A son who has been hurt equally badly if not worse. The wrong of it all is overwhelming. Painful to imagine or approach. Can he be redeemed? They wonder. He merely followed the only things he ever knew. It is all so hurtful, this misery that follows them. What can we do against such power? Coming to some understanding with the one they pursue may be the only shot there even is, but what if that proves impossible? Few among them, if any, have the strength to stand up to that sort of force. He is in his own league there.

Knowing the ancient weapons of war had such significant power does little for those who do not possess them or the knowledge of their manufacture. Barely able to maintain what few weapons they've obtained for themselves leaves very few options indeed. Something is incoherent in the world, incorrect, misplaced somehow. They call him a monster, but what are they for trying to stop him from ending his own suffering? None know what to make of this situation. For the now they only seek to stop him by whatever means. The world may already be doomed they find themselves thinking. Is it worth the effort to run after him like this? The choice was already made. Seek and destroy if able. That is the task before them.

This is contradictory. He appears to be indestructible so how may we destroy him? He himself has failed to do so despite apparently massive efforts to manage this very feat upon himself. At most they may hope to capture and hold him, but then what? Guarding him forever is not an option either. This momentously horrifying situation leaves all involved unable to formulate any real forward thinking plan regarding it. He exists, this is fact. What to do about it is a matter belonging to someone much more intelligent, but they can find none who know. Where to go, what to do? He is powerful as a legend, perhaps more so. Why is this so wrong? Living forever has proven itself to be more a curse than anything else.

Each of his pursuers considers this. Immortal? Why should this be so wrong? Instead of a grand boon it has resulted in nothing but pain for all involved in any capacity. He should have been allowed to die an honorable death, instead he has been punished more than everyone else for something he never had a choice in. This they think and wonder as to the why of it. He did not ask for such a thing. Each knows what it is like to be forced to do something against their will, but this. So much hurt stems from this malady upon existence it defies any effort to quantify it or why it has happened. Why did they do this to him of all others? Was it a choice gone wrong? A mistake?

Only the ancient zebra might know and there are none around to ask. To inflict this kind of damage on reality is an evil of a different sort. An unparalleled misery to invoke bad feelings and misgiven thoughts. He only wants to die. How unfair was this? To inflict that on another must have required some epically horrible will to enact and perform. Was this the end the ancients intended? It couldn't be. He is waiting, just ahead.

Pain or perish? Everyone does what they must.

Crying Game

"Mommy? Mommy.. It's so dark. I'm scared. Everything shook, mommy?" The little colt was crying in what remained of his home, saved only by the fact a couple beams landed crossed over each other and held up the rest of the rubble.

"Mom..please..somepony? Anyone?" He lay there shivering in the dark, sobbing. After a while he was becoming numb and tried to move, finally finding he could just barely squeeze out of a little open piece heading towards some dull light. The place was a total wreck. Nothing looked right. Absolutely nothing. It was almost as dark outside and the sky looked weird.

"Daddy?...Shuffle Deck? Hello?.." He was becoming increasingly frightened by this emptiness as he called for his brother.

It took a moment for his young mind to reach the realization. It wasn't just his families house that was destroyed. It was everything for as far as he could see. There was not much to see but flames.

"No..no.. MOM!? DAD!?" He yelled at the top of his lungs which echoed through the eerily quiet neighborhood. Everything around was also collapsed, shattered or on fire. Where was everypony else?

"Help me..please..." He slowly turned to look around to see it looked much like the entire town he'd lived in all of his short life was enveloped in this nearly absolute destruction. His school teachers, his friends. Were they all gone too?

All alone. So very alone. He swallowed hard, tears rolling in grief and shock. He turned around to view his ruined house and could not get himself to take a closer look. His parents and brother were in the house. It was easier to believe maybe they'd gone out while he was occupied with some silly game. Someone. Anyone. He coughed raggedly, really needing to find something to drink. His throat hurt, as did some of the cuts and scrapes he had all over. No mommy to make it better.

"Mom. I have to..to get help. That's what I'll do. Find help." He said to himself and quivering as he wandered the lonely empty streets all cracked and covered in wreckage and horror as if a great beast smashed through it all unhindered.

In some of the fallen houses he could see unmoving hooves or tails hanging out in places. He took deep breaths, finding it hard to believe or breathe properly. Where should he go? He didn't have any idea what to do. Fearfully treading cautiously along the street it was becoming increasingly obvious just how bad this really was. With everything looking this much different it was hard to tell where he was.

"I..I'm lost. Help! Help me!" He sat down and shuddered for a few moments, huffing and coughing from all the smoke and dust in the air.

"This is.." He mumbled as he spotted a charred sign. The candy store he loved to visit was gone as was most of everything else.

"Mr. Softcoat? Hello? I'd really like some candy!..." He screamed. There was no reply to any of his pleading and yelling, eventually forcing him to move on. He was feeling sick to his stomach and knew something was not normal with any of this, but was slightly too young to understand what had happened. Wandering these empty streets was torture for him. He was getting the most awful sense of isolation and desperation.

"Huh?" Thinking he heard something he hopefully went around a smashed street corner only to find small pieces of brick falling off a crumpled building and shattering on the ground.

"Ohh..There's nopony! I'm all alone!" He began galloping wildly down the remains of town roads looking for someone, something, anything that resembled a living person of any sort. A yak, an errant dragon, a griffon. It didn't matter what or who now, just someone. There were none. Not even any of those funny floating loudspeaker things he thought were neat floating around town sometimes. Just nothing. Nothing whatsoever. He ran on yelling and yelling until his throat went ragged.

Sputtering and heaving for breath he finally thought he spotted somepony alive at a distance only to be disheartened further by finding it was just a cardboard cutout lying against a wall as he ran towards it.

"Aaah!" He yelped and tripped, crying so hard he couldn't see.

"Help me.." Someone said, somewhere.

"What? Hello? Hello!?" He knew he heard that somewhere, or was he just going insane? No, he heard it again. So quiet. He listened intently now and followed it to the source.

"This is..I was here once. The theater where we saw that funny play." He remembered. The shaking colt still could not find whoever was whispering. There it was again. He definitely heard it somewhere around here. The theater was a big mess as with everything.

"I'm here. I'm here!" He called. A croaking voice that was just audible enough to be heard finally caught his attention again. He was shocked to find somepony buried up to their neck in debris and rubble. They were bleeding everywhere. Oh no. No. No.

"Help.." A stallion was under all that? He would never be able to get him out of there. His muzzle was barely visible as it was.

"Mister..mister can you hear me?" The shivering colt had to yell so he could be heard.

"Get me..out." He whispered, hardly breathing. He was obviously crushed under all that. The colt tried to move some of the stuff around but could not make any of it budge at all.

"I can't..I can't move it!" He called so the unfortunate stallion could hear him.

"I can't breathe..I'm dying." The unseeable stallion said. Dying.

"Mister..mister please don't go. I'm all alone!" The colt was absolutely coughing in desperation trying to move the stuff off of this only living thing he'd seen or heard.

"I'm sorry..kid. This is it for me..good luck... I'm....sorry..." He wheezed and said nothing more, leaving the colt all alone once again. He sat down and cried tears of misery and pain.

Where does one go from there?

Plant Life

The heavy tracked cargo hauler robot had forcibly ground its way forward away from the destroyed military base for a great many years. Its singular mission was simple, find suitable uncontaminated ground and plant the valuable cargo of seeds inside. Everything ranging from staples to exotic flowers. Nothing was overlooked. Contained within were detailed instructions concerning the care and maintenance of both the robot and the cargo. Ultimately it escaped the destruction of the base after having been buried for decades, entombed within the rubble. The aftermath of something having gone terribly wrong with the world. Hope was pinned on this lowly machine. Little more than a hunk of metal and instructions.

The internal chronometer ceased functioning many cycles ago. Only the tracks gearing and motors remained intact out of the many instruments inside, save for the instruction units only goal. Save the cargo at any cost. Do anything to this end. After countless attempts the heavy machine finally smashed out of the rubble into a barren wasteland devoid of all life and little hope of reaching a suitable location. The lonely machine silently searched the area only to find mass ruins, contaminated beyond all hope. Many pony skeletons were noted and logged. Among them the base commander. The very one which dictated the machines instructions ages before. Out of all luck it somehow survived the explosion, trapped below.

Now free to begin it rumbled ahead in a continual search pattern. No signs of life were detected by sensory inputs anywhere. Only more emptiness. In this state of silence it moved on, and on. Ever ahead seeking some hint of potential. In all the years since freeing itself it had found no suitable ground or environs even close to what was required. On it sought, probing mountains and fields devoid of any potential for life whatsoever. Slow and lumbering the ancient rusted machine trundled onward. Towards a goal which may well be impossible to find or reach. Very rarely, it would use a single test seed to verify and wait to see. They never grew and on it would go. By now it lumbered ahead, grinding, slowing more and more.

This mere bundle of rotors and gears rolled through once great valleys, protected cleverly against magical radiation, along with great electrical storms it could and did encounter. If life existed here, it did not find any in over a century of long dragging travel. Nothing could live here. A lack of water sources or any other usable resources the only lasting legacy left behind by the great war that at last fell on all in an instant. A flash in the tiniest second of time as doom descended. The crashing destruction carved throughout the emptied land the only real monument to the dead who fell where they stood, often through no fault of their own and in either ignorance or innocence of reality closing in. Almost none were truly safe.

This rugged machine was nothing special. A machine and nothing more, given over to a task just short of impossibility. Driven only by its orders. No one was around to see it trying to perform this important mission. No one anywhere and nothing to witness it futilely searching year after year through a destroyed open wilderness. The mapping systems were the only other thing still functional on this ancient piece of technology roaming seemingly at random across the endless deserts of befouled land and ruin. Where it started from a great hindrance which delayed it perhaps too long to be of any value. The singular order its only goal to achieve.

By now the ancient spark battery bank within was nearing empty with nowhere to go and no one to attempt recharging them. Slow and grinding it worked its way ever onward toward that elusive goal. Time and again to test and find the soil impossibly flawed. A more futile task could not be imagined. Over and over, mile after slowing mile it traveled. All the while carrying this small flashpoint of actual hope in a hopeless land, to no avail. The great engine within sputtering and groaning under the strain of lifetimes without care it moved on once more. The endless empty tracts of waste and destruction behind it serving no purpose. A backdrop to suffering and pain. Were it anything more than a machine, it may have given up.

The grand piece of old technology still barely intact continued this mission, alone in silence. The world surrounding little more than a playground of regret. Had it started out from some other location, perhaps it may have succeeded by now. Perhaps not. The luck of the draw is fickle at best and chances given are few to count. Running low on test seeds the groaning machine topped yet another rise to survey only more barren land to search. Another hill to pass where no other sound could be heard. In this silence, the noise generated by the motor and tracks was grandiose and would likely be horrifying to note from afar. If only any were around to hear. No ears to prick and no one to aid in this lonely sojourn.

Terribly far in the distance, perhaps the ruins of a city. Maybe nothing at all. A machine bearing the smallest fraction of possibility still finding nothing as it meandered across rocks and steep perilous regions of shattered ground. One final time it sought somewhere, anywhere which might give the slightest indication of being capable to bear true life amidst lifelessness. at last it performed a final test. Sitting in stillness and silence as the shuddering ancient mechanical armatures planted one last seed and gently covered it, using the remainder of the internal water reserves. The very last of the test seeds was now exhausted as it waited, one final time. Days passed until finally it determined this course of action useless.

It could now only utilize the more valuable seeds within, but this was not to be. As the ancient tracked marvel topped one final rise the right track gave way, snapping in half to send the entire thing sliding sideways into a gulley where the motor gave one final terrific rasp and smoked for hours. Internally this masterpiece of old engineering could only note one last thing. Mission: failed. It lay there smoking for a whole day before silence took it. Were it anything other than a mere machine it may regret all this, but it was nothing more. There it would remain, just another dead machine.

But it still tugs at the heartstrings, does it not.

Shadow Venture

Somewhere in the unending dimness a shadow unlike all others has been stirred to vile action. A most distressing happenstance. So harrowing its mere appearance enough to strike absolute terror in any unfortunate enough to stand in the way of whatever arcane objective is its want. No mercy, no quarter is to be expected of such miserable power emanating from this void of existence. The existence of such a shadow a terrifying malediction upon reality. Only able to hate and long. Yearning only for an end that has as yet not been forthcoming no matter how far those hoof-steps reach. An unyielding quandary of misery and pain personified, pursued by staunch pretenders to the light or so he would deem them.

He alone holds such power as to turn their hope to despair in less than an instant. His own son now, perhaps, seeking his destruction. This turn of events is the dullest of knife-edges. Reaver, himself a shadowy darkness accompanies his pursuers in possibly a mere act of defiance and little more. Whether he truly desires to perform this action is another question. Traveler and her cohort cannot help but feel trepidation over his presence. In time, maybe. For the moment his is little more than uninvited terror and cold they must suffer at her insistence. She has not been wrong thus far. That may only be sheer luck and little intuition. Despite it all, the real terror of their quarry lay ahead and he has proven true strength.

How did it come to this? Each of them wonder. This was nothing of what they sought. Even the old griffon turns aside from his own self-destruction to pursue this most horrible of all horrors. It cannot be allowed. No matter what it takes, this must be ended before that horrific shadow envelopes all in death. Painful as it is, there must be another path. Turning one such as he to the greater good is likely an impossibility. Destroy him if they can, contain him if nothing more. Somehow. Does the means to do so even exist? The old ponies might have known. Perhaps not. They knew absolute war, but did they know of this? This chasm of despair and yawning horror which they may have helped create in ignorance? Such pain there.

They cannot aid the living. If they did know, there is no telling. The ponies of ages past left only so much dust in their wake and passing. Could they have felt the slightest tremor of wrong in their unknowable actions? This one is different to them as can be. Magnificent, himself one of those ancient ponies is such a polar opposite it is unbelievable they are from the same age of great works and wonder. Through it all, a current of darkness always hid itself away. Is this the result of misunderstanding? A pony so cursed as to wish all that is to end along with him? That one carries the dark as much the other still holds the slightest hint of old light. Somewhere out there, ahead in the gloom. He is there, calculating, acting.

That shadow is not one of quiet desperation but true action. One might say, at least he is doing. What he is about, however, is demented as can be. Can he truly end the entirety of all reality? Possessing that sort of power has ever and always demanded a high price. Whatever it cost, his price seems different on some fundamental level. Traveler wonders, are we allowed to stop him? He has committed acts most foul, but it would seem Boss only true desire is to destroy himself. Where does that leave them in passing judgment? The old griffon does not know what to offer or proffer. There may be no wisdom or indeed any the wiser in this ultimate gamble. They only know shadows lay ahead. Many, dark and hideous.

The state of the world around Traveler has told her it was once great and grand, mystifying even. Wondering how it fell to this destruction and decay burns inside as few pains can while it reveals that once, life was good. In stories and all else she can see it was so, at least for a time. Whatever came crashing down on them was swift and total. Magnificent in their short travels together never told her much of then, and even that was wondrous for her. She pushes forth to once more be near to him. For now she wants only that. To hear him speak of the real wonders their past held. This time she will insist despite his sadness. Her armor being one of those very things, she wishes to know more. So much more than this tiny slice.

First they must overcome an adversary of unimaginable might. Then perhaps, happiness of some measure could be pursued instead. The wastes have proven one thing to her mind, the state of things is wrong and must be righted, somehow. Any amount of effort, any amount of pain exacted in order to do this endured. Otherwise there will be nothing to pursue at all. So Boss claimed. He appeared certain of his ability to make this happen. Perhaps he is only delusional? Driven insane by want and more pain than she could imagine? Traveler though despising it, finds herself almost pitying him even as they seek out that horror in hopes of halting this immense gesture of possible madness. They must hurry forth.

Boss sounded quite ready and willing to end it all for each and every. As she considers, one slight realization strikes and it hurts so badly. His order took her family away, and now she was plying his own son to turn on him. Did that leave her any better a pony than he was? This truth hurts inside in some way she cannot put into words. Hateful as it is she is treading close to a dark path herself at this rate. Now they find themselves rushing across the endless tracks of blasted wilderness in hopefully close pursuit of their quarry. Some pervasive pall falls over these willful pursuers. They know what the stakes are. The obliteration of all that is, nothing less than that. They chase an absolute insanity across the wastes in this desperation.

Every single living thing everywhere feels this invading shudder in their being of something amiss, not knowing what it might be. A great and indescribable terror descending, leading to imagined sights at the corners of vision and imagination. There is little need to imagine danger in the ruins, that has been real enough for all remembered time. This is no slight thing, but an envelopment of everything. A thing not meant to be treads across the world and in its wake comes misgiving and horror. A veritable abomination naming itself the consumer, in trite defiance of any norm. His hoofprints appear normal to the inexperienced eye, but even they lie as to their actual truth.

Time is winding down much like an ancient watch. The rusted springs still somehow managing to tick by the unremembered seconds. The furtive glances that say, help us. Death is coming. Not the slow death of passing time, but a great shadow consuming all it encounters leaving even the bravest aghast in terror. Agape at the evil passing them by, and at worst..noticing them. A rustling horror creeping across the land carrying with it no remorse or pity. The only destination of this creature summoned forth from nightmares stalks the lonely broken lands and crumbling highways once rife with the comings and goings of the living. Now, all is silent. A pervasive silence that little bit too empty. Ringing that much too eerily.

Something is beyond wrong. Something lamentable and sick.

"Traveler, I know we are making good time but we still need to stop and rest. You and..well, Reaver are just too fast for the rest of us and we cannot keep up the same pace I'm sorry to say." The old griff was even huffing hard, and right of course. She knew he was, nodding her agreement as Moonlight whirred in that odd way it did when left in defense mode. It could not act entirely of its own accord, but immobile as it was without a wearer it could indeed cover one direction in a fairly wide arc. It felt good having such protection even if it would mean little against the one they sought.

This was a hard slog over rough terrain for a decent distance before evening out somewhat again. They must be nearing. It was to be hoped.

"I'm sorry to be pushing you all so hard. You know what he said would happen and we don't have the slightest idea when or where he is going to do..whatever he is going to do. I still wonder who that weird pony was that went running after them beside Magnificent." The shock of both meeting and fighting off her own deceased parents combined into some hideous beast had been terribly hard for Traveler to truly shake off and it showed.

She was now recovering better having had some time since burying them. A proper goodbye actually helped despite the terrible circumstance surrounding it.

"You speak highly of this..Magnificent you said? Who IS he, really?" Tasket asked, mostly to steer the conversation towards something less dire for a while.

"He is..a great pony from the past." Traveler replied, eliciting a somewhat askew hmph from Reaver who was as usual sitting somewhat away from the rest of them.

Traveler tried to get him involved in their conversations and even asked him to come closer but he remained aloof as ever. Dark, mysterious. Most of all, dangerous. Despite this she tried again and again to find something with which to engage his interest more. So far all such efforts had been simply rebuffed, refused and mostly outright ignored. He revealed little and said as little most of the time. Not that any truly desired to hear that voice. It had the echo of his terrible father. A sire so foreboding and stern that simply thinking of him elicited fear bubbling from deep within.

"He saved my life.. kind of." Tanner said enthusiastically. Traveler smiled at him.

He still held Magnificent in some sort of elevated awe despite his insistence he was just like any other pony. It didn't matter to Tanner. In a way she agreed.

"Magnificent went through a lot of terrible things. Maybe more than all of us combined. He always looked so..hurt when he spoke of the past. I guess..losing a great world like he said is something I do not really understand or how it happened." Traveler spoke sullenly but animatedly about him. Tisket looked puzzled by this. The rest murmured agreement.

"We have all lost something important. I do not think there is anyone that has not." Gunnar unlike usual looked forlorn as well when he spoke.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Traveler sighed a little.

"Daydreaming?" Tisket asked.

"What?" Traveler sort of snapped to at the question.

"What do you mean?" She asked pointedly.

"Whenever you mention him you get all glazed in the eyes, like him that much do you!?" Tasket kinda elbowed her gently.

"I-I..he's like two hundred years old!" Traveler blurted out in response, hoping her blush wasn't really obvious.

"Oh, so he's really experienced then, sounds like fun to me!" Tasket continued to rib her a little in a friendly fashion. Traveler went a little wide-eyed, unexpectedly bolting off to slip behind a large rock out of sight.

"Hey, wait. Traveler, come back!" Tasket yelled after her and went to follow but the griffon waved her to sit back down.

"Aw what's nipping her flanks? She shouldn't be all by herself. It may not be safe around here. There is an old city ahead after all." Tasket intoned a little indignantly. The old griff just finished preening a couple feathers before speaking.

"She'll be fine. Just give her some time. I think she's..afraid of losing anyone else." He made a good point there.

"I have never met anypony like her before. I don't know if she's crazy, lucky, or just reckless for amusement like my crazy brother!" She poked him in the side.

"Hay!" He went to speak but she didn't let him.

"Have you noticed it? Any of you? Traveler actually seems to...to care about what happens to us. No one ever has..I.. but she acts so strange and walks right into things that would have killed all of us and right back out without a scratch on her!" Tasket looked both concerned and somewhat bemused by that fact. Oddly, Reaver mumbled something quietly.

"I do that too.." He sounded quite indignant but was so far away it was difficult to tell if they heard that correctly.

"What was that, Reaver you say something?" Gunnar stood and stretched out his askew wings as he asked.

"Nothing." Was his only real response. It was so hard to deal with his presence for all of them.

Taking some inspiration from Traveler, the heavy griffon tried to get him to at least talk to the group about something. Anything at all.

"If you have anything to add or wish to speak about you are welcome to do so." Gunnar chose what he said very carefully but tried to pass it off as general conversation. Actually getting a read on Reaver was impossible.

"Such pointless futility and folly." Reaver said in that oddly guttural and disturbingly angering voice he shared with his father.

Despite this they had all witnessed and heard when he actually sounded like he was genuinely enjoying something during the battle with the strange pony things near the forest remnants.

"Look, That is your father talking. We do not expect you to pretend love for our company or like us at all but you are with our group now and if we are to fight side by side I at least want to know the pony I am fighting with." The lilac mare spoke directly. Reaver grunted deeply.

"Fight? The only thing that is going to happen will be father killing us all." Reaver looked off into the distance.

"Well isn't he just a bundle of hope and joy!?" Tisket said loudly on purpose. Reaver did not seem to respond at that.

"Let's all just get rested up. Turn in. There may be.. some kind of battle to join soon." The old griff looked to the distant ancient city ruins ahead apprehensively. He did not like the feeling ahead, or surrounding anymore.

"I don't like the look of that place. It feels wrong and gives me a bad feeling inside somehow." He mentioned as they all got settled and began their usual watch rotation. Reaver was not yet given a watch by himself.

"Do you think we should let him take a watch? Might get him to trust us more." Tanner asked quietly before settling.

"Or give him the perfect chance to kill us all without a fight." Tisket replied sourly. Tasket scowled a little.

"If he wanted to try again, wouldn't he have? He's done nothing but help since joining us. Let him his space, I've seen this kind of thing before." The old griff spoke roughly. He had? This was never mentioned to the rest until now.

"Ya did?" Tisket questioned. They all looked at him.

"Not the same. A lone griffon joined my old talon once. He acted the same for a long time, and no I won't say why." With that he closed his eyes.

"Well great. Whatever big guy, so long as he fights for and not against us I don't even care." Tisket mumbled and lay on her side heavily. It was always difficult to sleep with Reaver around. None of them truly trusted his intentions yet, but he did not seem to notice at all or perhaps did not care about them either. It was Taskets turn to take watch right now. He walked towards where Traveler rushed off to earlier to find her sort of gazing mindlessly at her surroundings.

"Traveler, I'm on watch. you should stick with the group. It might not be safe around here you know." He said softly not to startle her. She glanced over at him. She was over whatever that reaction was.

"Uh, yeah. I just..needed a moment. That's all." Traveler stood up and stretched, wordlessly walking back towards their chosen campsite. Hmm. Well that was a little odd of her. Oh well. Unlike the rest of them Traveler appeared to be far more relaxed. Tasket roamed about them in a circle. Nothing particularly stood out about this area. Just some natural rises and the usual bits of worthless junk laying all about in increasing amounts the closer they got to what was left of the ancient city. Ponies and most others generally avoided those places. They were things of the old ones where horrible creatures were said to roam or otherwise occupied by those you wanted to avoid. All manner of unnamed horrors could be abound.

The night was uneventful as they took their watches. None really slept the best, but they were about to begin a faceoff with the most dangerous possible out of all opponents. Who could guess what he might do or have in store ahead? His motivations were supposedly not unclear but his own actions were strange. Why even bother telling them what he was going to do in the first place? If he said nothing about it and simply left they would have no idea and most certainly would not be trying to follow him. Boss or whatever his name really was had been said to be highly intelligent by all accounts. This did not appear to be the action of such an intelligent pony. Did he want them to give chase? Where was Magnificent?

At least if they could find him and the blue pony that took off after him there might be a better chance of surviving. It was already a slim possibility they could stop Boss anyway so any advantage which could be gleaned would mean a great deal for their small groups chances. So few were aware of what Boss was going to do. What was he going to do? Traveler only knew he brought pain and peril with him wherever he went. If he was telling the truth then it could partially be understood why. Was there any real possibility of stopping him? Boss was ridiculously powerful. More than his son. Reaver was even betrayed by him, treated terribly and simply abandoned. Traveler knew the wastes as harsh, but that felt wrong.

As Traveler woke for yet another interminable day of searching for their target, some tense feeling overtook her. Furtively looking around there was nothing obviously amiss. As usual Reaver was apart from the group. She sighed, but that feeling of inner turmoil rose further. It got to the point her expression made it clear something was bothering her. The old griffon spoke.

"Traveler, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you alright?" He asked as the others made a small breakfast to share between them. Most of their supplies except for that awful cereal of hers were still relatively low and soon that as well.

The others could not tolerate eating it. Traveler found that a little amusing despite it all and their situation.

"I..don't know. I can't explain it but I feel like something big and terrifying is nearing us. Awful and sickening." Traveler told him. The others except Reaver all looked over in concern.

"What, more terrifying than him?" Tasket motioned with her head towards Reaver, just a little bit in jest. Far off in the distance, Traveler was certain she could feel something coming, but how? She shook her head trying to clear it.

"We are all right here. Whatever you choose to do, we will follow." Gunnar said in hopes of making her feel better.

Traveler slowly nodded her head. This feeling was overwhelming. Surprisingly she stood and walked straight on over to Reaver. If he had eyes she would say he was looking at her suspiciously. What an odd thing to think.

"Do you feel it?" She asked directly.

"I do." He replied tersely in that voice that still made them shiver.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Traveler questioned him, hoping he would engage just a little more.

"No." Was his only response, simply sitting there as though nothing were wrong.

If she was anticipating any further reaction it was not happening. Traveler returned to the others and inspected her armor suit. It brought her so far and helped her survive so much. It was still quite clean thanks to that unusual metal Magnificent said the old ponies made it out of, but it clearly carried battle damage. She worried if it would be able to stand up to much more. She rubbed a hoof across the side of the suit slowly. It still held that oddity of feeling as if friendly. Was it supposed to do that? It almost seemed possessed of some otherworldly intelligence itself, but that was surely her imagination? Magnificent only referred to it as a machine, possibly even a dangerous one for some reason he did not say.

"I hope you're up to this, Moonlight. Something big and dangerous is out there. I'm sure of it." Traveler said as it merely continued to slowly pan back and forth defensively. Perhaps it truly was just a machine, but Traveler felt as though it had intention somehow. A machine as she understood it could only act as it was told, or made to. That was what he said. This just did not seem to fit in regards to this amazing suit. Traveler knew it might be silly, but it did save her life more than once by now just by virtue of existing in the first place. The tense feeling inside was slowly getting worse as they picked up their gear. Out there. She hoped moving from this location might lessen the feeling. She stepped into her armor once again.

As they walked on, all were silent for a while. Occasionally Traveler would look off in one direction or another. It was not reassuring. The few times Traveler ever said something, or simply acted she was proven unusually correct and they all knew this. Reaver was slowly being given more trust and leeway about where he could be in relation to them all. Usually off to one side or the other, but still distanced by his own choice to a much further degree than the rest. Traveler did explain to them why it was not a good idea to bunch up too closely and they did keep a good modicum of distance between them since then. This was a taxing mission they'd set for themselves. Find and face off against Boss? Could they win?

"I can't stand this. Her looking all over like that out ahead of us is making me real nervous." Tisket said to one in particular.

"I thought you wanted to be real mercs?" Gunnar joked back at her.

"Very funny. When we started out we were not going to be facing some madpony and who knows what else. That stallion creeps me out worse than his son does! Can we even stop him? I think he is not somepony to mess with!" Tisket said sort of quietly. As best he could Gunnar grimaced and huffed while sort of shaking his head. He clacked his beak solidly.

"We have to try. There is no one else and no time to find more backup. This I'm afraid is on us alone." The old griff rarely did betray his emotions, but it was clear he knew what was at stake with this. The whole world, or whatever was left.

"This is way too much. Why does it fall on us do this all by ourselves? This is just not a fair fight. He's unbelievably strong and dangerous!" Tasket interjected. He wasn't wrong. Reaver by himself could probably have wiped them out by now if he chose that path. Through some nearly random act Traveler managed to convince him to at least give them a chance. This may very well prove fatal if he decided not to fight his own father.

Throughout the day they approached the ancient city ruins. Distances were extremely deceptive around here. By the end of what ponies understood to be daytime it barely looked like they were much closer to the vast city, but closer they were. Traveler felt horribly spooked. With every step she imagined something awful happening which made her perhaps overly cautious and furtive. She knew this was becoming obvious to the others. The strange tension she felt did not cease or lessen at all, only becoming worse as they made their way forward. Something, vile and terrible was seeking them even as they sought their sole target. Stop Boss at any cost. This was their only mission now.

The strange sensation gaining more power all the time was a true strain on her mind. What could it be? She'd never felt like this in all her life. Traveler constantly searched the horizon for some sign of trouble that seemed reluctant to show itself. Each step of hers felt heavy and sluggish though they weren't. Once more they stopped. A single day more and they would surely enter the destroyed city. What might it hold? This feeling was unbearable but could only be endured. The rest were on edge, but did not feel nearly like Traveler did. Alarm bells were ringing in her entire body constantly. Be alert. Be careful. Death is close once more. That was how she felt. She did not tell the others that part of it.

Worrying them further would only distract and depress what little hope they did have of success in this most important of all things. Reaver did not at all appear affected by this feeling surrounding them. By now they did all feel it. A great wrong all about them, but nothing showed or happened, yet. It was tiring feeling this way. Sleep was becoming difficult to come by, only snatched in fits and starts. This night when Traveler finally felt sleeps embrace take her it was also wrong. Inhabited by dark thoughts and feeling. Trembling emotions writhing and rising up inside, twisting their meanings. There she stood amid and directly in the center of a great surrounding ring of stones. They looked imbued with some chaotic fire.

Bursting and blazing forth as dark shadows danced all about beyond. All ablaze with some indescribable language of ever shifting runes and words one could not quite read before twisting into others. All the while danger felt to be ringing her more and more closely. Slithering about just outside the licking flames. This did not seem to be a dream. It both looked and felt like actuality and reality in stark contrast. Traveler heard a horrible cacophony of hoarse throaty noise and guttural hisses and screeches all around which made her shiver in place, not daring to move so much as an inch in fear of what else it may trigger. Why was she here? This was a bad place. A forgotten place.

A place meant to remain abandoned, lost to the depths of time itself forever. Not even the dead should be here. Absolutely none and nothing should be here. She looked up to gasp in horror as a gigantic abomination blotted out the sky and withered all it touched, even the very ground where it strode and all was fiery dust and ash as she burst into flames. Traveler screamed and jumped awake causing the entire party to startle. Panicked cries of what, what is it?; filled the air.

"It's here!" She yelled and ran straight to get into Moonlight fast as she could manage.

"What's going on? Why all the yelling? I don't see anything. What?" Tanner looked around only to find it barely morning.

The sky dark as ever. At this moment he felt that stark terror, they all did. Something was indeed approaching at a rapid pace. Even Reaver almost looked apprehensive for once. What could this be? It was loud. It was huge. They all hid behind what little cover behind the wretched remains of a small storage building or whatever it once was. The ground itself felt like it was shaking from whatever was approaching or passing by. Peeking out just barely to try and see the immense thing grinding by in the distance Traveler could not believe her eyes. Nor could she believe what the suit display was showing. It made no sense in any way she could comprehend. A list of full specs, but something was extremely strange about all of it.

The revving rolling tracked monstrosity was identified, but it was truly senseless to her. The hovering display detailed all sorts of information she never expected her suit to glean or know, but this marvel was tarnished somehow. The list of things being conveyed was so far out of her limited knowledge it nearly hurt to think about. Unexpectedly the suit did something it only did one single time before now. The others were cowering from the noise alone. Traveler was too raptly intent on the info display to even notice currently. Once more a blue colored flicker crossed her floating gauges. What was happening? Moonlight again warbled out in that hefty deep mechanical tone it always held.

“Extreme danger. Condition: Blue.” It made that same odd clicking sound like before as it spoke. This was bad. The only time Moonlight ever made that statement was before they were all nearly killed. All could only hunker and hope to avoid notice by this..thing. A rolling tracked behemoth of a machine that made little or no sense. She read the info display:

Class: Ultra-Heavy Party Tank

Primary Armament : 2 Buck & Slammer Party Howitzer

Secondary Weapon : 4 Glitz & Glam Glitter Launcher

Defensive Capability: 2 Piston Dispersion Hammer

Pinks Defender Fractionite Paints

Aegis Capable

What the? They could not move an inch. If they did they may draw this..things attention. Why would anypony create a monstrous thing like this? It defied belief. Did this have anything to do with Boss? It could, but there was no way to tell. This roving horror trundled by and turned directly towards the tiny bit of cover they were afforded. This was insane. If it did not turn away they would have to move or be crushed beneath this immense mechanical menace. Fortunately for them for whatever reason it pivoted away and trundled on at high speed, while blaring some inane seeming nonsense in a voice much like Moonlight's. Why were these things always so loud!? Were the old ponies obsessed with noise?

"SENSORY INPUTS INDICATE NO PARTY WINNER DETECTED. SNAPPING TO BEARING 63.5. SWEEP CONTINUING." It was so loud. It moved off into the distance. They all looked to each other. Even Reaver appeared to do so. Party winner?

"What in all the world was that thing!?" Tisket of all them blurted a little too noisily.

"SHH!" They all responded. He winced as he realized what just did.

"Sorry, Reaver do you know what that was?" He asked more quietly. The strange pony shook his head, somehow almost appearing amused by this turn of events.

"It appeared like one of the field battle robots of old, but something was very strange about it." He looked perplexed as the rest of them. If he did not know, then it truly was strange. This was disturbing. They weren't even in the city proper yet. They very cautiously stepped out from behind their extremely minor bit of cover. The incredibly noisy machine had trundled off into the distance. That was insane. Traveler could only think to herself on why anyone would ever have created such a strangely menacing thing.

"I think we should move ahead now before that thing comes back. hopefully it won't." She urged them all to get going.

Off towards the old city. Beyond that incident nothing else untoward happened. It was otherwise quite dull. A deceptive feeling as they approached. Distantly the city itself was in no better shape than expected. Old and decrepit, but still full of wonder. This was truly dangerous. Some hours later they stopped in what would be considered the true outskirts of the place. Traveler held up an armored hoof and they halted. After taking a good look around they all agreed as night was approaching they should choose somewhere out of sight here to camp. Wandering around an area none of them knew at all could very easily end poorly for all of them. Of them only Reaver had been here before, but not for any lengthy period.

Traveler chose to take first watch as the sky dimmed from endlessly dull to true night. She sighed as she looked up at the sky. Magnificent told her it did not always look this way. It sounded marvelous the way he described it. Tanner surprised her in her revery.

"Hey, whatcha looking at?" His words startled her a little. She felt glad to still be hidden within her armor suit.

"Tanner, maybe don't sneak up on ponies like that?" He tilted his head as she said that. What?

"Doesn't that fancy armor of yours tell you everything?" Tanner asked, genuinely curious.

She shook her head side to side.

"Not..everything. Sometimes it even seems to be completely wrong. Well, not wrong. It's hard to explain. Say, you wanna try it?" Traveler was feeling a bit devious.

"Try it!? Uh, I don't know about that. It's yours and I have no idea about it and what if I mess it up or something and.." He was stammering. Traveler shushed him.

"Relax. Just relax. It's not going to bite you, I promise." She coaxed.

"Just for a few minutes so you can see what I see, okay?" Traveler exited the suit using the hooftap and spent the next several moments explaining to him how to get in properly.

"Well, alright. You're sure this is okay?" Tanner asked somewhat nervously. Traveler nickered under her breath.

"Did you say something?" He was feeling truly apprehensive about this.

"Just take it easy and get in. I'm right here." Traveler encouraged him as best she could. She uttered nearly the very same command her father once did for her and that hefty mechanical voice acknowledged.

Tanner blinked and nodded then boldly began to awkwardly try and get into Moonlight. Traveler burst out laughing at how ungainly he looked as he fumbled about trying to get in past the closure bars.

"You make this look so easy." She could hear him say a bit muffled as he was not yet in properly. She assisted insofar as helping get positioned correctly. Moonlight sealed around him. It did frighten him some.

"Aah!" Tanner blurted.

"Whoa, what is it?" She asked him calmly.

"All this stuff I'm seeing. What is it? It's dizzying. There's so much!" He was breathing so hard it could be heard in his speech.

"Now calm down. I told you there was a lot didn't I?" Traveler had a bit of a mischievous thought.

"So, Tanner, I am going to stand on the other side of this little pile of junk. When you can get on top of it we will consider another lesson." Traveler moved to the other side of the debris pile there.

"Wait, what? I don't. Traveler..come back here." Tanner promptly landed splayed out on his side with a minor clank.

Traveler smirked. Did she really look like that back when she first tried to maneuver Moonlight herself? For the next hour she giggled and laughed quietly at Tanners rather failing attempts to stand and move properly in the armor.

"Traveler, how do you stand in this thing!? Every time I move it does something else!" He bemoaned his situation and flailed, promptly causing the armor suit to land on it's face, metal horn jabbing into the pile and hind legs in the air. That was too much for Traveler, she bellowed with laughter causing the others to all wake and come running to their location.

"What's going on, is everything..." The old griffon arrived first and upon seeing the upended suit began laughing.

Quite hysterically. The rest arrived in short order and after establishing what was going on all burst into heavy laughter together. Reaver did also come to find out what the commotion was and each could swear they heard him wheezing or something, like he was trying to hide his amusement. Was he finally starting to come around a little?

"Very funny. Why don't you try it? This is not so easy!" Tanner muttered from within the suit as he caused it to once more to slip, flopping onto the side and gathering more laughs from them all.

"Oh come on!" He moaned. Traveler finally got hold of herself, still smirking and gasping for breath at the sight.

"Tanner, follow what I said about it. Do not rush your motions. Try to..sneak. Like you're trying to hide from something really dangerous." That advice was the best she could come up with. It seemed to work. Ever so slowly Tanner managed to stand properly, eliciting some clapping from the others. Gently he maneuvered atop the pile of rubble.

"You're getting it, see?" She told him to back down off the pile. He did so cautiously, almost slipping once or twice.

"Wow. This is..something. I don't know what to say." Tanner finished stepping off the pile cautiously.

"What got all this started?" Gunnar looked to Traveler, paws clutched his chest from laughing so much.

"He wanted to know what I saw in there. So I showed him." She grinned at the others a bit coyly. The siblings looked to each other. Off to the side it sounded like even Reaver may have let loose a small chuckle, but it was still hard to tell.

"Wouldn't catch me dead in that." Tasket said directly. If only she knew what that really meant, thought Traveler.

"You wear armor too.." Traveler pointed out, making Tasket look a bit shy for a change.

"Nothing like that. I suppose you really do need some kind of protection no matter who you are." She admitted quietly.

"How do you make sense of all this nonsense it's showing me?" Tanner sounded rather confused.

Traveler tried to explain as much about it as she could as the others listened. They all never really asked about it before. It was simply something they all came to be familiar with being there.

"Well, it does some impressive things. I will just continue to trust my instincts. They've served me well enough." Gunnar mused. It was difficult to keep the mood light despite the very much needed moment of levity. Tanner was helped out of the suit. He shook his head and looked over at Moonlight in awe of the technology within.

"It feels like you could do so much inside that thing, but I wouldn't know where to start." Tanner mused.

They could not afford to spend any more time than necessary resting and recovering, at the same time they could not exhaust themselves completely. It was a difficult balance to maintain, but there was no choice in the matter.

"You realize we are heading straight into a trap, right?" Gunnar stated as a simple fact to everyone. It was true.

"Of course we are. I walk into far too many of those." Traveler said, only half joking. Her expression took on a sullen far away look which Gunnar took note of.

"Traveler, are you alright?" His concern was obvious. She sighed in response heavily.

"No one should have to do this, and nobody should be like Boss. Nothing else either. I..I think I feel sorry for him." She explained. All the others looked quite distressed hearing this from her. Sorry for that monstrous apparition of a pony?

"But, Traveler, he has done horrible awful things to you, and doubtlessly to many others. How can you say that?" Gunnar looked at her pointedly.

"I am not saying any of this is right. He just seemed to be in so much pain. More pain than anybody could possibly take without..losing themself." Traveler sort of sniffled a little and relaxed, shaking her head forlornly.

"Maybe we cannot stand and judge, but we absolutely must do anything we can to stop him. Right?" Tanner said quietly. All nodded in agreement. If it could be told even Reaver looked sad by this fact. Who could blame him? Whatever else was done, they were going to try and stop his own father and he was going to help. If that was truly his aim. He did save them once already. It was clearly not something he needed to do. All they could do was hope.

"To put it bluntly, it might not matter anymore but we have plenty of water and not enough food left. Something horrible is waiting for us in this city and we may not survive." Gunnar pointed out their predicament.

Traveler stood up and stretched, looking to each for a brief moment after he spoke.

"I thought I would never have anyone around me I cared about again. If these are to be our final hours I want you to know I how I feel about all of you. I am happy to be with you, all of you, whatever happens." As she finished the rest of them sort of blanched and looked about awkwardly. Gunnar sort of coughed and stretched.

"I suppose we better start searching. This city isn't going to just offer up their location to us. We should spread out, but do not get out of sight of one another. Our only chance to succeed is as a group, agreed?" Gunnar suggested.

"I think that is the right way to approach this." Traveler commented as she clambered back into Moonlight. The now quite familiar inside of the suit offering some degree of comforting surrounding. It was the only small comfort offered as they set off to explore deeper within the city. She found herself wondering what some of these buildings once were. Some were simple short squat affairs, some with odd rounded stack protruding above, and some were monolithic towering ruins where who knew what happened within ages ago. All seemed to proffer some sense of sad reflection as though housing within them some old memory of happier times. Merely ruins, but also conveying somehow a sense of dread.

"Too bad that armor of yours cannot just tell us where to look." Tanner mused.

"I wish it could, but it can only do so much. Right now it is only showing ourselves." Traveler mumbled as they marched along in a sort of line. They'd determined to simply go straight where they could and work along. Some places she was forced to turn them back from rad warnings ahead. This place was exceedingly dangerous. Traveler felt grateful to her suit for that. Magnificent told her just a few horrible things that warning could mean when they were talking. They all sounded horrible. The old crumbling city seemed to offer little. Perhaps a fleeting figure now and then. Maybe imagination.

Many hours passed as they searched and sought, finding little to nothing.

"When I thought of adventures, they always seemed..less boring." Traveler stated to no one in particular.

"Someone once told me, never speak about things getting worse, or they just might." Gunnar replied at a distance as he looked about. That made Traveler feel a little chilled.

"Guess we will go that way next." He pointed a claw at a bend around some indistinct dilapidated structure. Whatever it once was totally unclear now. Travel called out for a halt as they rounded the corner of the building. Huh?

"Something is ahead, by that smashed building across the road." She said and they approached cautiously into visual range. A very odd thing was hovering by the building. A hovering ball of what looked like crystal, merely floating there.

"What in the world is that?" Tanner motioned towards it, curious but worried.

"It does not appear hostile. I will check it out." Traveler bravely strode towards it. The sphere remained motionless, in a hover about eye level in front of the ancient shattered ruins of something or other. What could this thing be? It did not react to her approach or presence. This was extremely peculiar.

"Now, what could you be?" She wondered aloud. To her astonishment it replied in a childish sounding tone.

"I am ORB." It stated as Traveler scrambled back a little in surprise. It did nothing else. What was this thing?

"W..what are you?" She asked incredulously.

"I am ORB." It said again. It sounded like a kid. What was happening here? Traveler waved the rest to come over.

"This thing is very strange. Anyone have any idea what it is?" Traveler questioned. They all shook their heads, save Reaver who was his usual generally aloof self and just gazed at it. Whatever gazing meant in his case. Gunnar tried asking.

"What are you supposed to be?" He hoped for something useful in response.

"I am ORB." It replied yet again. Ergh. Why was this object so interesting but so annoying and obstinate?

"This thing is already starting to annoy me. Why would anyone make such a thing? This is really dumb." He sighed as he spoke. Tanner tried his luck with it.

"Do you know where are we?" He hoped it would be possible to get more out of it somehow.

"You are before ORB." It never moved from its position, merely kept saying similar things to that. How grating.

"Well, this thing must've had some kind of purpose, right? What could it be? Hey, wait a minute. This thing looks a lot like a much larger version of that ball thing in my cart.." Traveler said. That was rather unusual. It was about the size of her head. Just floating. The two siblings circled around it. It looked the same from every angle. Just a weird hovering sphere. Did the old ponies make such a thing? What could it possibly have been used for? Perhaps Magnificent could answer that question if they ever caught up with him. He must be in the city somewhere along with that super fast blue pony.

If they were still alive was a thought she kept to herself.

"Why are you here?" Tisket tried speaking to it.

"I am.." Tisket stopped it from saying it yet again.

"Yes, you're ORB. We get it, what's wrong with you ya stupid thing!?" Tisket was getting a little overwrought about the weird sphere. Then.. it started crying. Why would such a thing cry?

"I..I am..ORB!" It whined and cried. What in the world?

"Wha.. uhh..we are sorry, alright?" Traveler tried to..calm it down? Why was she even bothering with this thing? It ceased sobbing. What was that all about? This was crazy. They were speaking to a floating ball that cried. Tasket leaned back against the remains of a wall and sighed heavily, looking at it with a glare.

"I think this is a waste of tiii..OOFF!" Somehow from above a pony came crashing down on top of him upside down causing him to crumple to the ground in a poof of dust along with him. What the? Traveler's suit had not picked up anything living in this area. A mare with an oddly clean looking coat of white and yellow. Who? What?

The mare got up and dusted herself off then looked at Tasket with a decidedly odd expression then blinked a couple of times.

"How dare you stop me from dying!?" She yelled at him loudly. What in the world? Dying? What is happening?

"Tasket, are you alright!?" Tisket asked quickly. Here in the remains of an ancient city something truly weird was taking place. Tasket stood up, brushing off his barding and shook his head clear then nodded. The strange mare must have fallen off the roof of this old squat structure? The entire situation was making very little sense. The mare looked around.

"Ho hey, an ORB!" She exclaimed, drawing some irate looks from the entire group she did not seem to notice at all. Was this mare completely insane or something? Almost as if in confirmation of this thought she turned around and bucked the thing so hard it shattered into thousands of pieces, revealing a small item of some kind she picked up in her muzzle marked 'P. Core'.

"What is going on here? Who ARE you, and what are you doing!?" Gunnar questioned harshly as she dropped it and leaned down quite suddenly for some reason and exclaimed jubilantly.

"Oh wow, a bit!" The weird mare said excitedly, as she ducked some kind of projectile was fired past her head, just missing and ricocheting off the building back in the direction it just came from and with a loud PANG somepony yelled out in pain, falling off an opposing rooftop to land in a crumple across what was left of the old roadway. Likely dead.

"Not again! Third time today they missed me! Stop missing me! Darnit!" She said and looked depressed now, sulking.

Were they under attack!? Everyone was thinking in unison. Nothing further seemed to be happening at the moment.

"Traveler, I uh.. I have no idea. Reaver?" Gunnar looked in his direction and he actually shrugged his shoulders.

Just as confused about this as the rest. This was so confusing. They decided to leave this crazy mare alone for now and examine the body, approaching it cautiously. Whoever it was had a rickety looking sniper rifle laying beside them, shattered from the returning bullet. How was that even possible? It was nearly a precision hit. The sheer absurdity of this happening struck all of them. How could anyone be so lucky, or unfortunate? Was this some kind of madness coming over them all?

"My suit is picking up nothing else, but that doesn't seem to mean anything.." Traveler mumbled. It was true. It did not detect either of these ponies. Not so much as a hint of them really.

Was it malfunctioning that badly or was something else interfering? There was no way to tell. Was anything going on right now even real? Who was this mare?

"We need to go. Magnificent must be in this city somewhere, so must Boss. Just standing around here is dangerous after that shot. Someone might have heard that commotion. Just wish we knew where to go." Tanner reminded them. Yes, they had been badly distracted by this and that could have drawn attention from who knew what in such a place.

"Yeah, let's get going." Traveler motioned and they resumed the search of the old immense city.

Tanner peered behind them as they resumed their search. He noted movement.

"I hate to tell you this, but I think that lunatic mare is following us.." He told the rest. They all vaguely looked back. If anything she just appeared to be wandering about at random, yet still keeping within sight range somehow. Her friendly marker on the armor HUD continually flickered in and out. That was so extremely strange. It reminded Traveler of some time ago, when they faced off against a pony who seemed so sad and so horrifying. She could not be similar, right? This mare looked harmless enough to them. As long as she took no offensive action, Traveler suggested just leaving her alone.

Whoever the mare was, how she acted definitely counted as unusual. Harmless seemingly. Moonlight was making no suggestion of her being at all dangerous in any capacity. Traveler knew better than to entirely trust that assessment. It could be flawed. It had been before, possibly. It was extremely difficult to tell and she really knew nothing of how the suit truly operated. Magnificent only knew the specification of his own suit and older armor, and could only relay how to use her suit more effectively to some degree. It did help. If only they could find him. He must have come here as well. Where did he go? Boss was certainly in this city, they were fairly sure of this. Running into him would be a true test of mettle.

What would they really do when coming up against that horror made flesh? For all appearances he was just a pony like her. His mere presence felt utterly deathly and wrong. What happened to him? Magnificent said he was a friend once. Could something really change a pony that drastically? The pony she knew as Boss was seemingly insane, but in some cold and calculating manner that contradicted that description. He absolutely knew what he was doing. This made him epically dangerous. To have so much power and wield it so coolly unnerved her greatly just to think about. A power they must confront and somehow put up a fight against. Traveler knew nothing of this. Only the terror emanating from him.

Reaver was bad enough. His father was all but otherworldly. Why was he so set on this course of action? It really made no sense when considered in full. Was there something else driving his actions? It was almost like his decisions were made by consensus or something. Did someone else hold sway over Boss of all ponies? That was an even more unnerving thought.

"Has anyone else thought, what if Boss is being directed by others? Remember those weird like, voices before?" Traveler asked aloud as they searched. Still nothing useful. Tanner replied immediately.

"Oh good heavens no, something more powerful than Boss!? No thank you! Don't even suggest such a thing, Traveler, this is bad enough as it is!" Tanner curtly responded. This got a little chuckle out of her.

"What? Hay! He's dangerous, we all know that. I cannot even think about there being..more." Tanner exclaimed.

"Alright, alright. It was just me thinking out loud. Relax. We aren't in it for our lives just yet." Traveler apologized.

"Well, Tisket, ready to die?" Her brother asked. She harumphed at that.

"Oh, come on. If it is like that I am giving it everything I've got, and so are you! Got it?" Tisket glared at her brother.

They both started laughing. That was nice to hear. They were all ready as could ever be for the confrontation that was certainly coming soon. What would happen? Boss was not some minor slaver or raider with no aspirations other than survival. If anything he was a mystery of the complete opposite somehow. So dead set on destruction it was not logical. Most were just trying to survive. Going against that was painful to consider. Yes, some did end themselves in this harsh world left to them. Usually without choice or other options. He could do so much with his kind of power. Why so evil?

"This pony, he makes me shiver. Everything he does is..wrong. Spiteful. Hurtful. For no reason.." Tisket trailed off.

"Huh? What's this?" Traveler halted garnering curious expressions from the group.

"My armor is picking up a very weak radio broadcast on a channel I do not recognize. It is too broken up to make sense of, but I can tell it repeats. Might clear up if we get closer if I understood what I was told about that type of thing." What could that be? Traveler wondered. She'd explained what radio really meant to the others much earlier on in their travels. Something the old ponies came up with during the war. Similar to something unicorns used to do regularly, but with machines instead. She understood Magnificent meant they were trying to mimic unicorn magic. Could machines do that?

Maybe not fully. She barely understood magic herself. Even the unicorns they'd met were not all that powerful in general. Tisket was great at wielding her weapons with it, but knew few other kinds of spells or uses for it. Traveler imagined many things it might do, but did not truly know its limits. She did now know magic was involved in the complete devastation of the world. It could be that powerful? Why did the ancient ones do this to themselves? They seemed so powerful, so sure and confident from what she knew of them. What happened? Where precisely did everything go wrong and set itself on this irrevocable path of death and uncertainty? Some terrific mistake was made, irreparably.

Whoever or whatever truly brought it to that was long gone. Did they know? Who did?

"If..if only we knew more. Knew how he became so strong. What made Boss so..angry. I know he lost somepony he loved, but It does not seem right. He has a heart or he could not love, right? He's a pony like the rest of us." Traveler mused. Reaver snorted indignantly.

"A heart? Father only ever smiled around her. I even thought he cared about me, once. If he had a heart it left with her. He is invincible. Immortal. Do you not understand this yet?" Reaver's voice always chilled. Felt angering like Boss.

"So he kept saying and insisting. Why though? What does it matter? If he cannot die or be killed why doesn't he help the world instead of making things worse? He could..make things better for all of us! He has that much will and he uses it only to cause death and pain like some demented child. What's wrong with him? I'm sorry he could not save your mother. It sounds like she was all he actually cared about." Traveller sort of ranted. Reaver almost looked taken aback. A rare sight.

"He..made allies after she... Not friends. Just underlings. Minions. Playthings to order around. Never did anything but give me orders after that either." Was Reaver opening up about something at last? He almost sounded ready to cry, wavery.

A palled silence fell on them for a while until Traveler could regather her nerve to speak.

"Reaver, I want to be your friend. I cannot speak for all of us, but I know you've gone through something terrible and it was not even your own choice to make. I am so sorry." Traveler felt a desire to comfort him, somehow.

"Oh, you're sorry. That just makes it all okay doesn't it!? That father hates me, lied to me, and wants everything to die!" Whoa. He actually sounded emotional for a change. Could it be? Reaver truly opening up? Dangerously perhaps.

"Reaver, we never wanted to hurt you. Your father chose that path and it disgusts me he did that to you." Traveler chose her words cautiously.

Traveler faced Reaver, just in case, but he seemed to calm a little by those word. That was perhaps the first time they ever got more than mere response out him, but real emotion. Almost too much. None wanted to make him angry now.

"We are..your friends. None of us would hurt anyone. Not that way. Never like that. Boss has gone too far. That is why we are here. He must be stopped. I will die for that if I must. Will you follow me to that end, my friend?" She raised an armored hoof and waved it to point across the ruins.

"All this. Even as it is, it is ours. It belongs to us! It is not his right to choose the end for us." Traveler said calmly.

Reaver held a hoof over his muzzle and almost looked like he was shaking for a moment before putting it down slowly and taking a deep breath.

"If you can find some way. I will help end him. I never desired the complete destruction of the world. It is not what I was promised. He did show me caring, once, a long time ago. I almost forgot he ever did. So long ago.." Reaver just stood there looking down a little. At last she'd gotten just a little something more out of him. Finally. After hundreds of miles across the trackless wastes, finally.

"I know this must be very difficult for you, Reaver, but we are here. If you need to speak we will listen. Alright?" Traveler said and the others murmured agreement. If she had truly gotten through to him it must be held onto.

"Whatever. Let's go." Reaver replied in that tone that sent shivers across them all. Already so empty seemingly of feeling, but just for a moment that façade cracked. Another day gone, but perhaps something good at last.

That stirring in the darkest most hidden of places begins to rise to a damning crescendo

Auton

The soldier just did as he was told, like always. As he'd endeared himself to his superiors with this behavior he had become their go-to pony for many unusual assignments, something he was not certain he was proud of. This particular trait was also what lead him to being one of the highest ranked officers they would ever dare actively place in the field. This time he received the strange and dubious orders to live test a mechanical pony in the farthest off region he could be sent. An area of relative safety while still engaging the enemy for testing. He was also to gauge its reaction times and how it interacted with its set of 38 commands. So secretive a project was it that only a small squad of armored guards were sent with him on the assignment.

At first sight it didn't seem anything particularly special; in fact at a distance he nearly mistook it for one of the guards trudging along towards him. Upon closer inspection, however, it looked like a slightly hunched-over grey unicorn. As it approached he could not help but notice the odd movements it took, the almost too careful and heavy steps. It walked in a gait that struck him as very quick but far from graceful. It was also much bulkier looking than normal, he had been told it housed a wide array of weapons within its chassis and given leave to test fire all of them except one. That one worried him since he was not told what it was, only informed it was never to be used except as a last resort and required he say a special pass-code to activate, they'd begrudgingly given him the code at his insistence but it should not be needed.

The soldier had also not been told it could talk or seemingly think of its own accord, after being taken aback at it speaking and introducing itself as Mattias he soon discovered it held a strange penchant for telling the sort of terribly inappropriate jokes only a pony in military service could get away with. Where had it heard these things? The name struck him as odd. To him it almost seemed alive and though he was a hardened veteran of several intense engagements this discovery gave him pause. What were we getting into here, why give it a personality at all? The idea of sending mechanical troops to fight instead of living ponies seemed appealing in the sense that only a machine would be put in harms way but at the same time it also seemed an act of desperation. The war had after-all dragged on for far too long already.

From the start of the auton units field testing things had not gone well at all, partially due to the machines heavy weight. The unit did not look as heavy as it really was. The area where they were sent was a mix of sparse edging forest and mostly sandy desert terrain in which the unit began to sink if it did not keep moving, this alone did not bode well for deploying it on the front lines. Ostensibly this was a four-legged tank that could convey vast amounts of firepower even where the robotic tracked ultra-sentinels or a standard tank simply could not go. This was not proving to be the case at all. During firing tests he noticed a tiny gold plate on one of its rear legs engraved with the letters M.A.T.T.I.A.S.

Poorly as things were progressing there were some positive notes, like that the robo-pony as he took to calling it really did pack an awesome array of bewildering firepower. All of it very cleverly hidden within along cycling tracks which could pop the weapons out of the constructs coverings at various angles and handle a wide variety of situations. Every time it did eject a weapon it sent a chill along the soldiers spine as it then looked much less like the familiar and comfortable sight of a pony and more like some alien concocted from ones worst nightmare. On solid ground it was a fierce and dangerous opponent indeed.

The only other things that bothered him about it were its eyes and voice, it had a harsh mechanical and entirely lifeless hollow sound to it while the eyes vaguely looked reminiscent of some green-eyed insect or half-remembered monster out of a bad dream. He determined the unit could see quite well and far in nearly any light or condition, or whatever passed for it seeing, he could not really tell. Why a robotics expert hadn't been sent along could only be guessed at, perhaps such intelligence was more valuable than the machine itself. Instead all that was sent along with the unit were munitions and a field maintenance manual, for a robot it required surprisingly little. Every day once per day he was to spray an unidentified liquid into its 'mouth' from a canister which bore no markings at all giving no hint to its purpose.

His orders gave them four months to test the unit as thoroughly as possible and leave to engage any targets of opportunity. Twice during the first two the auton actually saved them from walking into enemy scouts which it spotted and picked off with amazing ease, almost too much ease for his comfort. If only it were not so heavy units of this type would be an amazing recon asset, but as it stood he figured it could only ever stand guard and patrol outside in cities, perhaps where roads and completely solid fortifications were more common. The higher-ups were certain not to be impressed with this bit of news. When not actively testing he slowly began to find himself almost thinking of it as a friend thanks to its random banter and crude jokes.

The next two months were composed of a dreary tedium of endless tests and no enemy action whatsoever. This was not surprising considering the area held no real strategic value and had been mostly left alone save for the occasional short probing skirmish, generally resulting in no one being hurt. Any mistake could still prove to be fatal, as spies took advantage of the wide area to slip across undetected to harass from behind on three previous occasions and were known to take any advantage they could. At least the autons joking manner managed to lighten the mood from time to time, something he came to appreciate very much. The guards were taking a liking to its unexpectedly endearing mannerisms as well.

Only a week before he and his group of six were to be retrieved by a rarely deployed pegasus sky-boat, just as he was waking up for the day a scroll suddenly popped into existence in front of him startling him so much he nearly fell over. He only ever received three of them during his entire career and it was always bad. This one had an urgent stamp simply stating an unusually large enemy group had broken through their lines in the area and they would have to hold out until reinforcements arrived, which left them fending for themselves an indeterminate amount of time. He was to find a suitably defensible position and hunker down with his squad. This was not a difficult decision having explored the area so thoroughly.

Grim-faced he looked over the stallions under his command. This was exactly the sort of situation one did not wish to be in. He did not really notice it before but they were all quite young, far younger than him and none of them had much real combat experience outside of their training. He would have to handle this very carefully. First he ordered the auton take up a position at the crest of a forested hill so as it could just see over and constantly scan the area, it did not require rest. The others he ordered to dig in just behind it, staggered outwards not too close together. Having no report on enemy disposition he chose to take high ground, giving the auton and themselves a good field of vision and fire.

Command wanted it tested thoroughly, they were going to get just that. During the day nothing happened, but as night settled he felt that terrible calm before the storm sensation in his gut. Four hours before dawn Mattias quietly informed that a large group he could not see was approaching their position, despite best efforts to lay low they had been found. Not long after, a hail of small arms fire erupted towards their location. The auton proved surprisingly adept at tracing back and firing upon their attackers even in the dark, however this had the unintended effect of leading their opposition to believe they were a much larger force than in reality. The squad had all the angles covered but in truth were hopelessly outnumbered.

The soldier knew close quarters combat with what was arrayed against them would be near suicide and must keep the enemy at bay whatever it cost. This was proving successful only insofar as none of them was yet seriously injured but 3 of them had already been hit, he could tell the only thing truly keeping them from being struck directly was the autons intense streams of fire directed at anything daring enough to attempt a shot, but slowly inexorably the returning fire was intensifying. Chewing through ammunition as they were it was soon to be an utterly impossible defense. After three hours of this endless exchange of rounds he realized just how hopeless this was. Help would not come in time, they were all going to die.

He carefully dared move up to the auton and only then saw in the waning light of the moon just how damaged it was, the beating it was taking for them. All of its weapons were out on their tracks and targeting or firing. It struggled to remain upright as ripped jagged pieces sparked and bullets glanced off its armor plating, its head was cracked in places, was that a brain he saw underneath? Surely just a trick of the dim light. Any semblance to a living thing had long been torn from it. The sight made the soldier catch his breath as only now did he see under its friendly exterior just how alien a thing it was, fear gripped him to see it, this thing made only for death and destruction. He figured this was why it had been given a personality, if it had not been friendly to him in that way he doubted he could ever have approached it now.

The enemy was not yet behind them but was becoming increasingly brazen or perhaps simply annoyed they could not advance past this hill. He must do something now or be overwhelmed. He spoke the command to use its most powerful weapon. Unexpectedly it immediately retracted all of its weaponry and lay flat against the ground, whirring and clicking as its head turned to him and said:

"Warning: Stand well behind and shield eyes, cannon will unleash devastating wide ranging energetics wave forward! Structural damage exceeding 67%, firing may result in unit destruction. Confirm order?" Something in the soldiers mind felt bad about this but did not understand why, this was a machine! There really was no other choice. Confirm.

He backed away as two circular plates in the autons hips popped outwards and two hefty steel supports hissed out of the openings to the ground, two flaps then opened on its back and something not seen before rose up, it was larger than the other weapons it previously displayed. It looked very complex, and was certainly why it was so heavy. The square aperture at the front contained similarly square yellow warning lights swirling about it as a slowly increasing beeping sound was heard. It clacked and stood, lowering its head, the beeping growing faster and faster. The soldier scurried backwards unsure what was about to transpire. A terrible piercingly loud klaxon sound was emitted for a few seconds startling all within earshot.

A soft glow began to form around the weapons muzzle while what looked like white bubbles gathered inwards at the aperture, once again the machine spoke:

"Safety conduit override, proton wave cannon firing in 10 seconds." Proton cannon, what is that? Eight seconds. This does not feel right. Six seconds. Was this a good idea? Four seconds. The glow was almost blinding, it looks kind of pretty. Two seconds. Brighter and brighter. What have I done?

"Proton cannon firing." Was barely audible.

A terrible sizzling noise struck as a terrific thud felt like it sucked the air out of his lungs, a horrible immense blazing white took the night as a tremendous glare fell over the entire area. Suddenly shooting outwards the beam carved a swath of destruction down its path, shattering, incinerating everything along it for untold miles with a sickening crackle. Nothing was spared, smoke flew everywhere. Several minutes later as the horrific din died down he and his squad were dumbstruck by the carnage. It took him finally shaking off the weight of what just happened to get them moving, it was time to retreat. Nothing would follow them after that display of raw power.

He turned to Mattias to tell it to follow and was horrified by what he saw. Even with the supports it was at the last instant hurled backwards several meters slamming through numerous trees, a testament to its durability. It tried to stand and stumbled towards them scorched and blackened by the blast. One of its eyes hung off disturbingly on a cable while strange green sparks shot off its chassis and parts were slowly melting off, an effect that was only accelerating. It warbled out:

"Systems rebooted. Sensory inputs detect no enemy remnants, dangerous residual energetics in vicinity. Suggest immediate withdrawal."

The group limped back for a time with the auton moving slower and slower, it was obvious it could go no further. The soldier came close as he dared, the autons broken and battered form was becoming more unrecognizable by the moment. The most he could do was thank the auton for its service before it was little more than a puddle of scrap, it responded unexpectedly by stating a final quite rude joke involving a corporal and a unicycle. The entire squad laughed in fits, then teared up as the auton gazed at them. He could almost swear it was crying too. Suddenly its head twisted violently on what was left of the frame, gave a final heave and collapsed, what was left of it melting rapidly.

Command would not be happy with this loss, but they needed to know the true dangers posed by such a weapon, and though this was sure to turn some heads his report would request that Mattias be given full military honors.

End: Memory Crystal W001 Time Index Unknown

Somewhere far away a great dark steely figure raised its head, eyes flickering with malevolence and hatred.

Author's Note

Opinions and input always welcomed, one cannot improve otherwise. If you like or dislike something do tell, and please don't give a dislike solely for the sake of giving a dislike. I merely ask you have a reason and bear in mind one firstly writes to entertain themself and in putting it out there hopes to amuse, entertain or at the very least pass on ideas to others.

A Series of Irrelevant Events

Dear journal,

War. Year..11 I think. I watch the skies for friendlies, and there she is! Her and her elite Shadowbolt squadron. She does not show up on the battlefield lightly. This battle is over, just seeing her with them above means it is or must soon be. She moves so fast even wearing all that strange equipment they come up with, nothing on the ground stands a chance when she is in the fray. The best flier in Equestria indeed, and probably the entire world. Such speed and agility in the air go unmatched and unrivaled. She is a war hero, and I am nopony whatever.

Does she even know grunts like me exist, getting torn to shreds down here on the ground? Her world is probably much too fast to notice us small fry. Yet we all love her. Why?, because when she arrives above the battlefield she is a glorious storm of colorful fiery retribution. Unlike all other times we know we are safe once again, all too briefly. Rainbow is for lack of a more fitting word, awesome. She is truly the real deal. Her only goal seems to be to protect ponies, while being cool as possible. I met her once for a short moment during a mission briefing. Mentioned something about trying out some new gizmo they were calling a radio. Whatever it was she probably took it just because it had the word rad in the name.

At least she genuinely seems to care about the suffering and carnage, even if she is inflicting just as much in return. Stripes do not stand any chance when shes around. I'm surprised they will not surrender. Wishful thinking, we haven't been able to take even a single prisoner as long as I can remember. Fighting them in close is deadly. Even the dead ones are just as dangerous, we dare not get anywhere near them for fear of the traps they set on themselves. I was told she had a stripe friend once, that does not even seem possible. The Zebra war doctrine seems to solely consist of one unrelenting assault after another. There is no chance at negotiation, they will not even speak to us. They excel at fighting dirty.

Casualties are getting higher on both sides of this struggle. How many of them are there, surely they are hurting as much as we are? Somehow they just keep on coming. We beat them back in one place, bloody their noses and they just attack somewhere else. Despite our air superiority Zebra forces are highly mobile. Both sides of this endless carnage seem to be slowly obtaining more and more powerful weapons. Almost 12 years ago I barely knew what a weapon even was. I thought the ceremonial spears of the royal guard looked sharp and dangerous. Now they seem a quaint notion of sentimentality far removed from our bleak lives.

My dear sister.. I am so sorry. Ten years ago I joined the newly forming army out of anger. A blind feeling of rage prompted me to do it. A feeling so foreign to me I almost did not know what it was. I joined to make them all pay for what they did to you. Ever since then I have done ever more terrible things to survive, to take as many of them out as I can. I have felt my heart grow colder, more pained ever since. The day they took you from me festers, burned into my memory like an agonizing coal. Nothing with a heart deserves to die like that. The stripes do not seem to have hearts. Our home is gone with you. I was so young when it happened. I thought I was the bravest pony in the world.

Remember when I almost went into the Everfree just to prove it?, you barely talked me out of it. I never could say no to you. It feels like several lifetimes have passed since then. I thought maybe if I just got one of those responsible for ruining our lives I might feel better. I killed my first Zebra only two weeks out of basic, it felt nothing like that at all. I only got lucky I was not killed as well. I was also afraid. Just like that day, when I cowered in the bushes watching them cut you down. You must have been one of the very first to be hurt in this war. I was so brave, why couldn't I move? I should have done something, anything. I did nothing. Instead you died while I cried helplessly, hoping the horrible monsters would go away.

It would have been better if I died with you. No more cowardice. The anger and guilt that has built in my soul since then is unbearable. I killed a Zebra, but my hatred only deepened as I realized she was just one of the many responsible for your absence. I have killed in your name. Forgive me dear sister, they must know my pain. Oh journal, these pages are all I have left. I almost had no chance to write today. Dash showing up shot down whatever the stripes plan was this time. Glad to have the breather, we do not get many. It has been so many years, and I have helped gun down so many yet with every one I only seem to feel more desire for vengeance.

It seems for every one of them at least two or three of our brethren, our kindred and friends are wiped out alongside them. It never ends. There are more notches on my weapon than I care to count. It will never be enough because you are gone. This blasted war has likely orphaned so many by now it is absolutely horrifying. Why can't we stop them?, we should have the advantage by now. It is whispered that long ago Celestia of all ponies simply left the throne one day and gave all responsibility to her sister, what is going on? Can things really be this bad? One year there was supposed to be this great diplomatic solution to all our troubles, it just turned into another battle.

Nothing we do ever seems to make a dent in their resolve to keep hurling themselves at us. No matter how much firepower we bring to bear on them they just bring in more as well. Surely this cannot go on forever?, it feels like it already has gone on forever. I still feel no better, it seems my bitterness and pain only increase by the day as I watch even more of us fall in ever more brutal combat. Each of my fellow soldiers joined for much the same or similar reasons to my own, maybe a few out of patriotism here and there. Some probably joined out of a misguided desire for glory, hah. There is nothing glorious in this. Only pain.

We will likely be moving out soon, probably to reinforce yet another section of the front lines. In the beginning, there weren't a whole lot of opportunities to actually engage our enemies. It almost felt like a bad joke knowing they had hurt us so badly and nothing to shoot at. Now, there are positively too many targets to choose from. We have learned the hard way that they have snipers which never seem to miss. For some odd reason the stripes tend to favor close-in fighting, getting anywhere near one is a death sentence. Many of them seem to be trained in some weird hoof-to-hoof fighting style that defies description.

Without full combat armor being up close is tantamount to committing suicide unless luck just happens to favor you. Most of the time it does not play favorites. There is simply no way to gauge our enemies strengths or weaknesses, we cannot even get at them in their own territory. We hardly even know what their territory is let alone the best way to hit them there. Even the Shadowbolts dare not venture directly into that domain. We know nothing of the defenses or where the capital is, do they even have a capital? We know so little of them. Only that they have resources we dearly lack. They look so much like us yet so alien at the same time, I cannot fathom their lives.

Do they miss their fallen as we do ours?, are they at all similar? It does not seem so, I only know my hatred for stripes intensifies with every friendly that falls before them. It took me a year to build up enough courage and enough rage to go enlist. I was just old enough by then, barely grown up enough to carry a saddle pack. You should see me now sis, I can lift the heaviest of weapons with ease. That took a while. Would you even recognize me? I stayed with our uncle, the one everybody called Oaf behind his back. You know why. My stay with him was not a pleasant experience in any way. Nearly unbearable.

I am only writing these things down now because I have an increasingly uneasy feeling about the war as it only seems to escalate further. I thought my time under his roof was rough, in comparison to all I have seen and done since then it was practically a vacation. Should anypony ever happen to find this journal on my lifeless body, there is no one to give it to. Read it if you want. I probably will not mind. I have fought hard since joining the army and I only regret it ever had to happen in the first place. There is no end in sight to this suffering, I want them all dead but no matter how many I kill there are always more. It almost feels like some unnatural presence accompanies those striped horrors in the unending battles.

Have they no remorse, no fear? They are every bit as monstrous as I viewed them back then. Every time I finish another one off there is this strange electric thrill in me, I think I actually enjoy this. I only feel a shudder of happiness when they fall, then it is gone and I must seek it again. It is infuriating. The other day I saw something that made me feel even more enveloped by this need to hurt the stripes. One of them threw..something that looked like a grenade but it did not explode. It broke open and melted, spewing this horrible black smoke. I thought it was just a dud explosive then about half of the ponies that were caught in it went absolutely berserk. We could hardly hold them down, what could we do?

One of them bit me. I could not shoot our own. During the confusion one of the buggers strode right in and took out no less than ten of us before we could react. I got that one in the back. If only I had been faster. It felt so good to see another one drop. As far as I am concerned all those deaths mean I owe it back to them ten times over. Maybe more because the ponies that inhaled the smoke had to be sent off someplace for help. Some treatment facility for mental problems in the mountains or something. They just wouldn't stop screaming. I haven't felt so well since that day. The seething disgust I have for all of Zebra kind fuels me to fight on until somehow I find a way to shatter them, grind every last one of them under my hooves into dust.

If it costs my life to do it then so be it. I will have justice whatever it takes. During our next engagement I think I will look for a chance to slip away with all the equipment and ammo I can carry. Somewhere far to the south there must be a town, a city.. something feeding them supplies and troops. I will take the fight to them and break them. Even if only once they will be hit on their own ground, maybe just experiencing one of us reaching that far into their territory will teach them the fear they deserve. Dear sis, I will surely die in the attempt. Will I see you soon in whatever lays beyond the curtain of this life? We are heading out now, my chance must come.

Caesar, mighty Caesar in Roam this day does sit, and feels his tasks upon the world begin to slip.

Here We Gather

Many dark and mysterious things roam the equestrian wastes. Some mistakenly made by the very hooves which once claimed to protect that which was innocent, pure and good. In the name of this very goodness and science they invariably sought to turn such progress towards making weapons of the most innocuous of things. Trust to nothing, to no pony or higher power. None are there to aid you in the dim light cast upon the land, strewing ill and shadows long cast over it by the past. The only thing you may trust to is yourself and hope in your decisions. Wither they may lead you in the stillness is entirely the happenstance of your choices.

From great underground stables few recall, to the vast unforgiving emptiness that blankets the land there is little hope for the world. Yet those dull embers of hope spring forth from time to time. Tiny sparks in this absolute darkness gleam brightly as a thousand watchfires lit all at once. By this same token such an ember attracts all sorts of attention. Blighted landscapes almost seem to cry out for justice, restitution for all the horror inflicted upon it by tortured ghosts of long ago. The barely surviving members of the once great and flourishing pony races look up only to a closed sky which offers no escape. In the dank stillness something stirs. Surely no greater horror could yet await?

Great and terrible are the powers that clashed time and time again. Their fight for supremacy over a withered world just another story held onto by the scarred and shattered remnants of what was. The battlefields full of pain and suffering lay eerily silent, forgotten. The misery of the distant past plaintively calls out for justice where there is none. No peace has settled anywhere, only an uneasy quiet which refuses to let go of the present. Nowhere is this made more clear than by simply seeing the grand marvels ponies once held as their greatest achievements. Those which still stand a mute monument to the countless lives wasted in a futile war with a pointless end.

Life still tenaciously goes on in any way it can despite the devastation wrought across the world. Life which is looked upon by envious eyes shrouded in dark and shadow. The silence is a heavy weight on top of all that still lives. How dare life defy the end and continue? On it goes oblivious to the fact it is over. There is no point, why won't it just give in? All things must come to an end. This is the natural order even if that end was brought about by unnatural means. Perhaps this is why life struggles on far past the time it should have quit. Defiantly ponies still face what is left. The tragic cost of continued existence a price that is far too steep. Some still accept paying this hefty sum.

Longing for some spark of hope and light the dull and injured expanses wait in silence for some grand recurrence, some push forth of civilization to reclaim control of the land and finally grant peace to the extinguished rays of yesteryear. When the grips of fear and terror took hold of the populace the groundwork of inevitability was laid. No greater law and power than that which is inevitable exists. The drumbeats of war echo throughout history to an endless tune of emptiness and sorrow. The world did not end so much as it wound down after the fact. Many ponies amongst other life survived as it always does.

The great megaspell versions of much simpler spells that never were intended to be used were hurled in retaliation against an enemy that chose to use them first, also in ways never intended. Despite their great power the destruction wrought was nowhere near total. Huge portions of the populations on all sides were incinerated instantly to join the background emanations of magic forever left to spill forth where the very fabric of reality itself was torn asunder. Those that were too close never felt a thing. For those unfortunate few not far enough away left blind and stumbling in the dark, the stark terror though short-lived was unbearable. Long after the darkness consumed them their mournful cries may yet carry, lonely in their solitude.

"Need more. I'm going to rip it open. Then it'll all come spilling out. Spilling, pouring out. Gonna tear it open, it'll be so warm when it all comes gushing out." It was heading straight for them, muttering incomprehensibly. An apparently insane silvery-coated earth pony was shuffling along behind on a nearly broken limb, pursuing relentlessly. He seemed to feel nothing. He was faster than he should be, but never tired. The crazed ponies face and coat was spattered with blood. Blood from one of the other poor souls that ran across him. He seemed to come out of nowhere, wheezing and speaking strangely. When he violently bit into their neck, killing them on the spot, she and her son ran. This was a mistake.

Spotting the motion he stumbled towards them. Now he was chasing them endlessly through the countryside. How long were they running? She didn't know, only that they must not stop. Something was even more wrong with this pony than simply being wild or crazy. At one point this very pale pink unicorn smashed him straight across the head with a rock she spotted, sending him sprawling out on his back. Despite nearly bashing his skull in, it barely slowed him down. He must not get near them. Something in his eyes screamed it. They must find somewhere to escape to. Somewhere they could hide, but they were tiring while somehow he was not. They couldn't keep this up.

Fear was the only thing still keeping them moving, Fear of being caught by this monster, and what he might do. All real strength was gone long ago. He had come from the direction of what many called the Haysead swamps, this odd mispronunciation persisted through the ages. It was a place no pony dared approach in uncounted years. Terrible stories circulated which told of an endless swamp, a vile place where nothing that would or should be called life existed, yet it was from the distant edge of this place out of myth and legend he emerged. Their companion of only two days now lay dead as they retreated. It was difficult to form bonds of trust with any wandering the blasted landscapes of what was once collectively known as Equestria.

She along with her son were enjoying the brief respite of friendly company when they were suddenly set upon. At first he seemed no threat, merely a mumbling eccentric of the wastes. Allowing him to approach soon proved deadly. At a distance the way he walked looked odd. As he approached it rapidly became apparent something was wrong. His movements were jerky, disconcerting, too fast. The instant he spotted them he jolted at them, tearing into their new friend. His very light barding proved useless against his assailant. They were just beginning to trust and like him after some tension filled days together. Now he was gone. There was no time for regret and grief right now.

The blood-streaked stallion that ended him was right on them.

"I can't. I Can't." The young colt was slathering at the mouth from near exhaustion.

"We have to keep moving or that thing will get us." His mother was huffing as she ran. They managed to gain a little distance earlier by running around some strewn debris which fell from an old building long ago, tripping him as he moved only straight at them. She would have used an ancient pistol she carried in a makeshift holster at her side, but ran out of ammo days ago. Even if she had ammo it would be frightening to try firing again.

The weapon jammed several times at inopportune moments due to the longtime lack of maintenance. Altogether it was lucky to still be usable at all, and that something worse hadn't happened when it jammed. For now, it was just a chunk of metal she carried. She could ill afford to be hauling it around at the moment but it was her only truly valuable possession. If she could just obtain some ammo for it. Any ammo. At least some means of slowing or stopping this pursuer. His senses were more acute than normal. Even at a great distance he always found his way straight towards, giving them almost no time to catch their breath.

"We have to stop mom! What are we gonna do!?" There were few places to hide around here, and simply hiding was not an option. They needed something impassable between them. A door, a wall, something, anything. Surely there must be somewhere? A ways ahead up a steep path was something she couldn't quite make out.

The minor incline was proving to be a serious issue as they were so nearly spent already. Willing themselves to keep climbing would not actually have worked if it were not for the very real possibility of dying if they stopped for the slightest instant. The path was steep enough in their present condition to feel more like mountain climbing than it actually was.

Short of breath and on the verge of panic, they were running ragged. They must find something right now or be lost. He would catch each in turn and they would die, unremembered victims in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was nothing around here to put between them and this approaching scourge. Why won't he stop? Her thoughts were scattered, dwelling on all the brutal ways he might kill them.

"Stop thinking about that, what do I do what do I do?" Nothing could be found to stop him, her frail gun would be no hindrance to him at all if she hit him with it. No, there was no time. If they let up at all now he would obliterate them.

His stamina was beyond belief, trying to fight him off hoof to hoof would be utterly impossible. Trying desperately to form some kind of plan, only one thing came to mind.

"You must go ahead." Telling her son this was difficult. At best, delaying the monster a moment or two was all that could be hoped for.

"We have to get in somewhere safe. I can't stop him. Keep running, look for somewhere we can hide, anything!" She was panting so hard it hurt.

"But.." She skidded to a halt.

"I'll try to slow him down. Run!" Turning to face the oncoming horror she braced herself and telekinetically held him in place, her horn aglow. Somehow he was thrashing, still moving forward despite it.

"How can it be!? He's so strong he can resist magic?" She strained as she poured more and more of her rather limited magic reserves into it. Being nowhere near the most powerful unicorn ever, at this rate rate of exertion she would knock herself unconscious any second. Something that must not happen or she would be finished.

Pooling the entirety of her power she picked him up and hurled him a great distance backwards through the air to slam into the ground heavily. This would give them some time if she could just remain conscious and moving. Once again he scrambled to his hooves showing no sign of anything but insanity and single-mindedness of purpose. Whatever this purpose was escaped her. Why was he always coming straight at them? It was as if nothing else whatsoever mattered to the crazy pony. Didn't he ever need to stop, to eat or drink? As she fled after her son it came to her attention he barely even seemed to breathe. There were indeed dangerous ponies and other things in the wastes, she'd met some of them.

This was something else, sinister and wrong. What was he? Could he be invincible, immortal? This could not be happening. It must be some nightmare brought on by long years wandering the despairing wastes. Nothing was easy, but his existence defied all reason. This oncoming monster shot down their hopes instantly, his appearance killed it all, eyes rolling forth and back in his head half-glazed and lifeless. They were a pale off-white color they'd never seen. Her son's coat was a very rare mix of white and black highlighting, something very few ponies ever sported. She thought it made him look handsome, this was the opposite.

His strangely bright white coat now a horror in itself splattered and streaked as it was with their friends very life essence. He continued mumbling a nonsensical rant of want and need for warmth, for it to all come spilling out. There was nothing like this. He was an impossibility loosed upon them by some unwholesome power. What could possibly have given rise to such a nightmarish apparition as this demented pony? Try as they might, he never stopped. They would wake up soon, right? Except this was no dream. Most certainly this was the waking world and everything was wrong, more so now. They stopped calling for help an hour ago, nopony lived around here. Their companion was a fellow traveler.

He'd linked up with them after some banter back and forth which successfully convinced them his company would be alright. He may even have had an eye towards romance. It was not to be. Despite their short acquaintance, she would miss him. Having no real chance to think of a destination they were randomly heading for what was once known as rambling rock ridge. Finding themselves on an unused dirt trail they'd been fleeing down it for nearly 2 full hours in their bid to escape this terror. Somewhere in the distance a small rocky, slightly mountainous region hovered into view. A very thick hefty wooden door on enormous ancient steel hinges hung wide over an entrance into the hill, obscured from view by many dead trees. Perhaps an old mine. Catching up with her son he yelled.

"Mom, in there!" It was their one chance to escape whatever madness consumed this pony.

"Get inside, hurry!" With whatever modicum of strength she still possessed she willed the door to move, to close. It was so old, so heavy and stuck fast.

"Move, move!" She screamed in panic as he closed in on them once again, still muttering a slew of vile sounding scrambled statements about warmth and ripping things open.

"Close, please close..." Just as her magic began to fade the door finally loosed to swing around for what felt like an eternity, the hinges screaming in protest. Closer, closer.

At the final instant she managed just enough to slam the immense door shut right as he smashed straight into it with a terrible thud which echoed down the tunnels within. With that she collapsed unconscious, leaving her son alone in this waking world of pain and suffering.

"M..mom, are you okay?" He was shaking, trembling in fear. The pony outside was hammering himself against the door futilely without pause, slamming into it again and again.

"Mom, please...I'm scared.." The blood-soaked pony outside just kept hurling his body against the door.

This was not the old cave entrance they'd once seen in passing. It was much further west and this was well hidden from the ground. Coughing, fatigued, her son shuddered. Hardly able to catch his breath after being forced to run so long, so far. His young body ached as his legs practically folded beneath him. Each bang against the door made his heart leap.

"Go away!..please, go away..." A whispered entreat to finally leave them alone. The murderous pony outside smashed against the door nonstop. The poor young colt stared transfixed upon the enormous old door, afraid to look away. His head bobbed as he sagged. His energy was all but spent. For long moments he sat like this, unable to move.

Slowly, inexorably, exhaustion was catching up with him. The only thing keeping him on his hooves for quite some time now was his mothers coaxing and encouragement that they would escape if they just kept going. Her words looked to be proving true. Maybe they were safe in here. Still unable to let go of his terror he sat for interminable moments. Moving to look away from the door his trembling worsened. The bad pony mustn't get them. He didn't really know of death yet and had just seen a pony that truly seemed to be a new and genuine friend murdered right in front of him. It hurt so terribly to see their new companion die. Finally, he took a step. He huddled close, laying against his mother.

He held to her tightly, crying.

"Mom, you have to wake up. Please wake up?" Exhaustion finally struck the young pony as his eyes closed despite himself, his head falling against her. Regardless of the constant dull banging outside he fell into sleep, perhaps in shock. It would not be until several hours later when his mother came to with a deep gasp. She awoke to still hear the dull thudding of their tormentor outside. It was no weaker than when she collapsed. Something was so terribly wrong with him. She knew there were dangerous things in the wastes and wilds of the land. This was something else.

What could drive a pony to act this way? Looking around she realized how dark it was inside. Daring to cast a very unpracticed and faint light spell her mother bothered to teach she quickly determined there were two tunnels here. Perhaps one might lead to another way out. Out and away from the source of their fear. Now there was time to think, in some way she felt pity for the poor pony outside. Surely no one would ever act that way of their own accord? He must be sick or something, but with what? She'd never heard of anything at all even remotely like this. It could not be simple insanity. It would not explain how he seemed to have endless strength and stamina to pursue them.

He didn't appear to feel pain either. This was beyond frightening. How could things be so wrong? He should be in serious pain, exhausted, maybe even dead. Instead he just kept on coming as if his only purpose was to hunt them down. Who was he, what happened to him? Once from a very far distance she'd seen a strange mix of pony and machine. A monstrous apparition to behold, all metal bits poking out in odd places and entirely frightening even from far away. It seemed pained. She was so glad it hadn't noticed her and went about whatever strange business such a thing might. Even that terrible image, that awful visage had looked alive and intelligent.

This pony only kept muttering terrible things, coming at them. The look in his eyes so cold, so devoid of reason, of life. How could one be so fixated on anything? The slamming outside continued. Thinking to herself that must surely hurt, she realized how much pain she was feeling herself. Overtaxing herself enough earlier to faint was not something she'd done before. Her head ached and she felt like she'd actually burned her horn slightly. It was definitely an experience she did not wish to repeat. Quietly a soft groan escaped her throat. The circulation in one of her legs was a bit impaired. With that pins and needles feeling she noticed her son fast asleep, clutching to her like fear itself had taken form and flight.

She would have to wake him, deciding to wait a moment. He may need whatever rest he was getting now. The dull banging against the thick wooden door was a near-constant rhythm almost inducing her to panic once more.

"Get hold of yourself. He can't get in, right?" She whispered to herself. She must wake her son. Reluctantly she readied herself to get moving. Somehow this pony was running along on what was clearly a broken limb without so much as flinching. Why was he so set on catching them? She'd never seen him before in her life. There were things she did that were nothing to be proud of, but not one thing that could incite another to revenge.

She moved from place to place as many wastelanders did, in search of water, food, shelter. A safe place to be. All of these things were in short supply, life was very unforgiving. A faded sign on the wall gave warning the mine was patrolled by Heavyhoof Security Services. Rather, it would if either of them could read. She always wanted to learn how, but for many this was a skill lost to time and the reality of the wastes. What she mostly learned over the years was to shoot first and ask questions later. Her parents were not much help, having abandoned her at a young age. She could not really blame them. It was either part ways or certainly die. The only other choice was to split ways and possibly live. It could not have hurt more.

In her travels she met a strapping stallion who stole her heart and made her feel secure for once. In the end he didn't measure up, leaving her alone with a young foal. She found out later he did not live long past their separation. Something somewhere snapped inside her then. She would do anything to somehow ensure her son a better life than she endured. To this end things felt to be looking up, and they were. Up until this surreal insanity intruded on her efforts. They better go. Now which way should they head? The tunnel to the right looked to be inclined slightly upwards, but could be a deception of the dim light. The one to the left went downhill just as gradually.

There were other signs on the walls but they were so faded and covered with grime they would not have been readable even if she could understand them.

"Ohh, my head." She held a hoof to her face.

"Guess I'm just lucky I didn't faint sooner." She truly overdid it earlier. It was difficult to decide which way to go. The dim light provided by her weak spell did not project very far, falling short almost unnaturally.

"Which way do we go?" There was no way to know which one might lead to a way out, if either did.

She nudged her son gently as he woke with a start, almost yelping.

"Shh.. it's okay. We're safe for now. There has to be another way out of here somewhere. Let's go." He followed her looking dazed.

"Mom, the horrible monster can't get through the door, right?" He squeaked out. She tried to sound reassuring.

"I don't think so." Surely the creature outside which resembled a pony would wind up dying before it could actually come crashing through such a large and heavy old door? She would not make that assumption, instead simply hoping.

"Let's not find out." The inclination of the tunnels in the dark made it much more difficult to tell if they actually continued going up or down. She choose to go down the tunnel to the left. With caution they wandered forward. Crazy ponies were one thing, there were other things in the wastes. She'd never lied to him about the fact that life in the wastes was hard and fraught with danger. This was an utter unknown, never having imagined such a horror. There were many strange things which happened, but not once did she ever hear of anything like whatever happened to that stallion. She would even have found him cute if he wasn't trying to kill them.

As they cautiously inched down the tunnel she brushed past several unseen switches knocking one into the on position. Glancing at it the shape E.T.S. Enable was in the center. It was not a symbol she'd seen before. Neither knew what these switches could be for anyway. A very far off clinking sound could just be faintly heard followed by a hum so slight it might not even be there, nothing happened. There was little she truly did know aside from survival. It was the only reason she was able to force them both to run so far and for so long from him. There was no desire to face such things. She only wanted to give her son a good life. Was that so wrong? Nearly having that faint hope taken away shook her to the core.

She wouldn't let him see how scared and shaken she truly was.

"Mom, did you hear something?" Tilting her head the only thing she could make out was the occasional thudding back where the maniacal pony was still throwing himself against the door. Did he never run out of energy or breath? His strength was so overwhelming it was ludicrous. Knowing he could push back against magic with that ridiculous strength alone was terrifying. Never in her life did she feel so helpless against anything. Were there more like him? She shuddered. His singular bloodlust was so very disturbing. He did not seem to enjoy it or anything. This thought felt hollow.

Something about the entire situation simply did not add up. He attacked whatever moved until it stopped moving, nothing more. Holding a hoof up to her ear she couldn't make out any further noises.

"I don't think I hear anything." A slight feeling of apprehension struck her as they trotted down this long-unused passage. Where did it actually go? She'd never been in such a place and having no idea of what they could expect was not a good feeling at all. Was this place itself dangerous? There were all manner of things present in the wastes, many of which were dangerous to encounter in the open where some chance of escape existed, in such a confined space as here they would be hard-pressed to win a fight against even the weaker of such a menace.

Why did life have to be like this, so full of danger and suffering? It felt wrong. Somewhere in her mind some dim racial memory of a happier time tugged at her emotions, almost making tears well up. No, she would not let this be their final day. No matter what it took she was going to get them out of here safely. She was going to give her son a true chance at a happy life free from sorrow, somehow. Nothing else mattered, not even herself. Whatever it cost didn't matter. She kept them moving. The further they were from that door the better.

"Mom, it smells bad in here..." There was some faintly foul odor emanating from somewhere.

It was sickly and slightly nauseating, just weak enough they could tolerate it. They both felt very pained after running for so long. They knew running well enough, it was often a quick escape that meant more than anything else in the dreadful expanses of the wastes. She'd chosen not to go near cities unless there was no other choice. It just was not safe. Nowhere truly was. Her experiences scavenging in the closest city ranged from easy pickings to nearly losing her life on too many occasions to one thing or another. As they made their way down the dark tunnel they came across a door. Above it a grime covered sign stated 'Office'. Not being able to read could prove to be a real problem here. She didn't know what it said.

Was it something dangerous or harmless to look around inside of? Being indecisive was always a bad thing in her experience. She tried to open the ancient door. The unused hinges squealed terribly at this unexpected use. It barely moved. Placing her forehooves against the door she shoved heavily. The swelled door jammed against the frame. She didn't want to make more noise, but it seemed safe enough. She turned around to buck it open. This did not have the intended effect, resulting in her legs going straight through the door with a resounding thud. Her son giggled heavily.

"Very funny. Help me out." He tugged one leg out, then the other.

"That's better." There were now two hoof shaped holes in the door. At least now it might be possible to open it. There was no point trying to be quiet now after that racket anyway. She pounded away on it until the remains of the door simply collapsed in protest at the treatment stirring up decades worth of dust causing both to cough uncontrollably for a moment.

"How pleasant." The foul odor was the slightest bit stronger here. The source of it was certainly not coming from within.

"Yuck, that smell really is bad, whatever it is." From the look of things nopony had been inside this place in ages.

Ruined papers lay strewn across the desk. They would be unreadable even if she did understand them. Whomever once ran this place left in a tremendous hurry. This was of course an action carried out by the vast majority of ponies everywhere when the war struck its final horrifying notes. The scene looked familiar because she'd seen it many times over. She did not know why or how it ended, but each time she saw this exact thing made her feel glad she was not there to experience whatever happened. It felt horrible to see at the same time. Some pony was doing something probably not so terribly important when..something really awful happened.

It gave her the same familiar chill those other occasions did. It was plainly obvious the pony that was in this room suddenly grabbed whatever was important to them and ran. It must have been dreadful. This thought struck her as ironic in some way, but couldn't put a hoof on exactly why. It wasn't a very large room, containing only the desk and what was once a water cooler. She could not know the function of this device, any water within long since evaporated. She rifled through the desk drawers for a moment. She gasped.

"Oooh!" Her son looked on quizzically.

"What?" She pulled out one of those horrible ancient ration packs that everypony appeared to have had tucked away, and which seemed to keep forever. This one displayed a picture of a delicious salad. It would surely not actually taste anything like that, but it was a great find nonetheless. Holding it aloft while bowing her head she exclaimed:

"Whatever pony created this awful stuff..thank you so so much." She'd made a habit of being thankful whenever finding something like this. It may taste bad, but finds like this were what let them live thus far.

"Now if we could just find a way out of here. Hold this." She passed it off to him.

In their haste to escape the sudden violence earlier they were not able to grab their makeshift stowaway packs. They would have to try and retrieve them later. The packs contained food, water and other things they could not do without.

"We get to eat more than usual later." She hugged him. This was such a rare event it warranted a little joy. Anything to give them a moment of it was terribly welcome. An air vent in the corner seemed to hint at the same foul odor. It was a concerning scent, but this was an abandoned mine or something after all. When the war ended any sort of industry ended with it. Who knew what really ever happened here? For all she knew it could have been very important, or absolutely nothing.

Any clue the scattered papers may have held to the purpose of this place was long erased by age and the seeping damp. Even if she could read, they would not tell any secrets of the past. Not really caring unless something here might aid them in their escape. One of her first priorities should they get out of this place would be to retrieve their packs. Then, she would set her sights on finding a pony who could teach them to read. Seeing the signs drove it home, it hurt. Throughout the years she'd been hiding caps in a very secret place discovered long ago. She would surely have enough secreted away to entice somepony to teach them.

Looking at the sign above the door and not knowing what it meant made her feel terrible. What if it was important?

"I know it's dark and scary, but we have to be brave and keep going, okay?" She ruffled his beautiful soft white mane as he nodded slowly. He would make such a handsome stallion when he grew up. They passed an ancient terminal set into the wall on their right. Any secrets it contained were lost to time even if she knew what it was. Lacking power the strange old machine was just another reminder that once long ago, ponies were masters of all manner of arcane technology. Mostly lost were the skills needed to utilize or even power them up.

Some machines still operated on their own separate power supplies. These were oft dangerous. Clearly their presence here went unnoticed by anything. Perhaps nothing was in here after all. Knowing better than to trust to possibly false security she continued down the long hall. This place was much larger than she imagined at first. There were many other branching side passages and places to potentially get turned around and lost in. She scraped thick marks into the wall to identify where they'd already passed. They walked past ancient elevator lifts, some with open shafts. They hung from steel cables weakened by time, likely unworkable, some broken with age. Only one remained on this level.

She knew what a lift could do from a previous misadventure and that it would be extremely dangerous to attempt using something so old and tattered, if they still functioned at all. The bulky rusted machinery stood as yet another silent reminder of days long gone by. These grim reminders that at one time ponies knew ever so much more about the world elicited some feeling of longing in her, for what she knew not. Her sole immediate concern was the safety of her son.

"This place is confusing. What did they even do here?" She wondered aloud as they continued their forced exploration. They could not go back out the way they came in.

It would be too dangerous to try and slip past the horror still pounding himself against the door. The realization this place was absolutely huge hung over her. Finding another way out of here may be more of a problem than hoped. That awful smell clung to everything in the entire place. The air vents which once constantly cycled fresh air in and out of the mine long lay dormant. The further away they wandered from the door where they started the worse it became. It was a disconcerting sickly smell, cloying and stale. The echo of their steps in the darkness gave an entire other dimension to their situation. It made them feel incredibly small.

The longer they stumbled about in here the more apprehension fell in on them. Something did not feel right about it, not in the same way as the dangerous stallion, but still it persisted that some unknown was present.

"I don't like it. Coming in here may have been a mistake. Be really careful, okay?" Her son was staying right beside, almost too close. Telling herself to remain calm she looked about. The dark stillness was not helping the feeling of entrapment and near-helplessness. Her light spell was vague, not very bright at all. Why was it so dim? She wished her mother taught her better, but she hadn't seen them in so many years, not knowing if they were even still alive.

The encroaching feeling of wrongness increased as they ventured farther within. Not having encountered anything dangerous in here actually made it feel more threatening. Something you can see is far easier to deal with than the unknown.

"Hold up." They stopped.

"My dear, I have to ask you something important. Answer the best you can." He blinked and nodded at her.

"How long have we been walking? Think carefully before answering." The young colt looked down with a tense expression on his face.

"A really really long time. I'm so tired mom..can we rest for a little?" He looked utterly exhausted, but there was no reason for it. Exactly like she was starting to think and feel.

"But it's really only been about twenty minutes. Why do we feel so tired? You can rest but don't go to sleep. I don't want to scare you, but I've got this terrible feeling. We have to get out of here as soon as possible." She could barely tell time either, guessing. He lay on the floor of the tunnel, panting. Her tiny light spell could not exhaust like this, and he was doing nothing but walking. This realization proved something was terribly amiss here.

Not wanting to admit it to herself before, the sickly sweet smell was masking another odor, one she did recognize. It was the unmistakable smell of death and decay. Something terrible happened here. Her heart sank as the beginnings of panic started to set in on her.

"No. I will not give up." She struggled through the strange fatigue, encouraging her son to get to his hooves once more. She was scared now, more frightened than ever. Even the monster outside she felt less fear of than this new unknown. She looked around the ancient unused tunnels.

Only now did she note this place felt more dead than anywhere she'd ever been. Her heart pounded as they inched their way forward through the blackness. Her weak light spell felt like the only thing keeping some unimagined terror away from them. Something horrible, something hidden, watching. Why did they have to wind up in here of all places? The hushed whispered clacks of their slow heavy hoofsteps their only companions in this miserable place. Life left here long ago, abandoning it to rot. Why did she feel like this? There's nothing there. The glimmer of faint light on long rusted steel took on some more frightening depth now.

The faint shadows cast flicked while they passed as if some wicked intelligence abode within them, aware of their presence.

"Mom..mommy..please? I can't keep going." He looked worse than before, swaying he almost fell over. She sat, taking the food package from him.

"Get on my back." He draped himself over her, very nearly unconscious. Forcing herself to stand again, she knew they must get out of here. If she fell asleep now, it felt like it might be for the last time.

"My dearest, most precious thing in the whole world. Talk to me. Talk loudly. Laugh, sing, keep me awake too." So hard to put one hoof in front of the other, each step a mountain of effort. Her eyes were half closing by themselves.

"Wake up!" He shuddered groggily. "Loudly now!" This was working, if only barely. They sang unintelligible lines at the top of their lungs just to keep awake.

"There once was a silly pony..she liked...uh..dirt!" This got a laugh out of him. Good. Anything to spur them onwards.

"What's that?" He wearily pointed a hoof at some glittering object on the floor.

It looked out of place, or at least like it didn't belong here. A very small somewhat rectangular-shaped object lay against a far wall. Several buttons protruded from it, marked with letters as indecipherable as anything else to her. Why she decided to pick it up was really the effect of this strange fatigue more than curiosity. At doing so it lit up and she dropped it, gasping. She didn't know what such a thing was. A mundane innovation developed during the war. It was speaking. It was such a surprising and novel thing they stood agape, listening.

"Audio log: Reveille. Great, stuck with guard duty in a mine. Fantastic. Why do they want guards here anyway? and why even have us make these? I doubt anypony will ever actually listen to them anyway. I suppose it's not much different than my journal, I guess." The ancient machine whirred and clicked a moment. Whatever powered it hadn't given out in all these years.

"Why did I ever agree to this assignment? It's better than that place Scootaloo had me guarding. It was in the middle of nowhere. Who gave a contractor clearance to give orders anyway? They were official. Really, what was that place? Did it need guards either? Surely even the stripes will never find it." The voice said that vehemently.

"It was a nice break from the front lines I suppose, but I'm ready to get back into the fight. At least I'm only here a week, then I can get back to kicking tail." It stopped to click some more. The disembodied voice began to speak only to stop and click again before continuing.

"Thank the princesses! The weeks almost over. With a bit of goading I managed to find out where those orders came from. Sounds like Colonel Bright Step's the one that gave the go ahead. I always liked him, he knows what's up. Why would he do that though? She's just a mare from Stable-Tec, but they're just a construction company, right? Whatever game he's playing, he better be careful is all I have to say." the voice died off leaving them standing in silence once more.

"Mom, was that a ghost!?" She stood in stunned silence a moment.

"I don't think so. Wouldn't ghosts be scary? That voice sounded kinda bored." Carefully she hovered it aside, deciding it was a worthwhile prize. She was able to just balance her light spell and bring it along beside them. Whatever it was might be very valuable. The novelty of the moment was rapidly wearing off as that terrible fatigue still pressed in upon them. If a guard was here once she reasoned it might be close to an exit.

"Keep talking. I know it's hard but we have to stay awake." Once more they meandered through the unfathomable pitch within. Again she felt like some unseen eyes sought them in the dark.

Trembling with fear and unnatural fatigue was making it difficult to keep going, but her focus on keeping the spell going and lifting the strange thing seemed to be helping. Between that and their silly songs back and forth her spirits were almost lifted. Still, carrying him as well was tiring. By coming in here they exchanged one horror for another. At least the pony could be fought off, there was nothing here to fight against except their rapidly waning strength. Every step was like dragging a lead weight forward. As they walked she spotted a small light source. Approaching it she found it to be a tiny vent to the outside. Outside was right there, so close and yet so inaccessible.

She could at least smell fresh air through it which made her feel better. Gently she held his muzzle up to the vent alongside hers. The air helped re-energize them slightly. It did not alleviate the fatigue much, but it did grant them a moments reprieve. Panting, she desperately sought an exit. There were no doors here. Only the scattered remnants of untended broken machinery. Ancient lifts promised only a deadly plunge to the depths of this crypt-like place. So much fear was placed upon them this day their very spirits felt deadened and worn. Tears welled in her eyes. There was no way out, only more darkness. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe.

Each lifeless breath felt as though it granted no actual air. On and on it went. She felt sick to her stomach. Keeping that tidbit to herself they continued their loud back and forth, making up nonsense jokes and sentences. She could not let him know how terrified she was. If she did it felt certain there would be no chance to come out alive. The laughter was so out of place here. She thought about how little there ever was to laugh about in her life, how joyless and futile it all felt. Then her son came into her life. At first she felt he was just a pointless burden. Taking care of him only a wearying chore. Slowly, she found herself coming to love her child selflessly. Her only joy. She'd never felt joy before.

His first shaky steps, his first words. She found these things meant something to her, each success of his easing some deep-seated need in her heart. Watching him grow filled her with pride. He was still so young, and smarter than she ever was. If his life were cut short she would never forgive herself. He was her world, nothing else mattered. Finding some strength left within she continued this deathly struggle to survive. Wading through this ocean of dread and fatigue was the toughest thing she'd ever done. Her only thought, he must live. Yet another junction of hallways stood before them. None looked more promising than the last. Opting to go in a straight line for now she felt her hooves clanging on the floor.

It looked less tarnished here. Most of the tunnels were more or less braced constructions with little else adorning them. They looked and felt very solid even after being neglected for so long. Whatever ponies once trod here did an excellent job on the construction. She was not thinking such things, not knowing anything about constructing such a place other than she could not imagine how it was done. The air felt the slightest bit less dense here. Finally, the tiniest bit of hope. It did little to lighten the sense of being dwarfed, but it did give some encouragement. Maybe they would make it after all. Her dim light spell wavered in the darkness. Their concern mounted as it slowly started to invert itself. The light it provided was turning dark itself.

"What's happening?" Concentrating on it made it flash, it stuttered in and almost out of existence. For the moment she dropped the ancient recording. This was very wrong. Each time the light faded what looked like little black bubbles scattered around them within its range. Her struggle to bring it under control was terrifying, draining. They must have light or be trapped in here forever. The poor young colt stared out into the empty black in mounting terror each time the light dipped, clinging to her exhausted and trembling. They were barely able to catch their breath. Something was in that blackness surely, stalking these intruders who dared trespass within these walls.

Both shivered as she waged a private battle of will to retain hope. Time and time again her spell threatened to fail completely.

"I have to.." Whatever force was trying to crush her light was relentless, unyielding. Feeling as though she was being squashed into the floor like some might knock away an errant insect caused her to shake heavily, all weight she ever carried before was as nothing. Sputtering and coughing, she forced the spell through sheer willpower to keep going. For ten unspeakably horrifying minutes she fought. Each passing minute was a torture all its own.

At times there was little more than a spark of her spell remaining that she must not let falter. To give in now would mean being set upon by..something vicious in that endless dark, without mercy. The spell sprang back to life as spinning single rays from her horn to finally settle as the same dim light as before. She didn't know what happened, merely that in some way she felt lucky to have survived. Struggling to remain upright she forced one leg to move after the other.

"Go, go." Was a steady train of thought as she took one tormenting step after another. Mustn't fall asleep, mustn't let the light go out. Get away, get away from here. Move. Huffing and panting she found herself growling.

A strange growing anger within made itself known. The light spell flickered in and out, threatening to die completely. She felt something tugging at her mind, battling against her will. Suddenly this became an entirely different kind of fight. She could only keep trying to walk. It was almost impossible to keep focus. Her eyes almost closed one too many times. At last relief was granted as it let go, she nearly fell into the nearest wall as the strange burden upon her dissipated. As rapidly as it began, it was over. The awful fatigue began to lessen as she pushed on. Whatever was behind them in the silent black no longer held them in its grip. Her son slipped off and stood yawning.

"Are you okay?" He looked less pale already.

"I feel better." She couldn't help but smile and hug him tightly for an uncomfortably long moment.

"Aw mom.." Their moment of levity was short-lived as keen awareness bit that they were still trapped in this unending darkness. Fearfully she dared glance back down the tunnel that lead here. Whatever took hold of them back that way was immensely powerful, dangerous beyond imagining. The very thought of encountering it again made them shudder uncontrollably. There must be an exit somewhere down one of these huge halls, there absolutely must.

If there was not, they would have no choice but to risk backtracking. She could not expect to win such a battle of will a second time, it was too strong. There were so many branching junctions it was taking forever to explore even a tiny fraction of them. Why was this place so enormous? From the outside its sheer size could never be guessed at. Carrying the food packet and device along now felt like nothing in comparison to the difficult challenge they recently endured. Exploring could almost have felt fun if it were not for the serious threats they faced. Another issue was looming. Many hours now passed. With each step stifling air in here sapped them of strength in and of itself, instilling a great thirst they could not quench.

"Mom, I'm thirsty." He croaked. So many things were going wrong with this day she could almost imagine they were being tortured by some higher power on purpose. No, they were too small, too insignificant to warrant that kind of attention. It was simple horrid luck. Losing their new friend and the packs was enough on its own to dampen their spirits. Having to flee in terror from two unknowns was simply too much. Being trapped in this mazelike prison of stone and steel was taking its toll. They'd encountered no other air vents to the outside either. That brief moment of being able to breathe easy once more just another taunt, exaggerating their plight. He burst into tears.

"We're never getting out of here, never never!" He sobbed and shook as she gently held him close while they fell.

"Wait.." She looked around in the darkness. Something was still wrong. Yet again some thought formed in her mind that this was not natural.

"Your voice didn't echo." This strange phenomenon sparked as primal a fear as can be imagined.

"Move, we have to move." She tugged him along quickly. This fear was so overwhelming it made proper thinking difficult. Were they actually being followed by something, or was this simple overtaxed imaginings?

It would be easy after all they'd been through to give into the mere wild creations of a mind seeking logic and reason in an illogical situation. The stress of these strange occurrences was putting a tremendous strain on their hearts as well as their spirits. Their will and determination to live through this was being sorely tested. She only knew if they stopped moving something may find them in this labyrinthine tomb. That is what she found herself thinking of it as. Ponies died here and something was seeping forth, woken from some interminable unbroken slumber by their intrusion. Everything in this place was suffused with the stench of death. It was all she could do not to slip into mindless panic and surely be lost.

"Be brave. Be brave and strong for mommy, okay? We will get out of here." She ruffled his mane, looking at him for a long moment. Anything after them would have to go through her first. Still more concern was piled on them as she realized they were legitimately tiring this time from the stumbling exploration. Her light still barely penetrated. Sleeping was the last thing either of them wanted to do. Sooner or later one or both of them would have to. How long had it been since they'd walked into these chambers of hideous torment? There was no real way to tell. If there were any signs of any sort they'd long since fallen, faded from decades of accumulating dust and grime.

Due to their increasing fatigue she decided to find as safe a spot as possible.

"I need to teach you something." She said.

"Teach me something?" He questioned as she lead him into one of the dead-end halls. She figured it best if they only needed to watch in one direction. Turning to him she spoke gravely.

"I need to teach you the light spell I've been using. You must be able to use it too. It isn't too difficult. I know you haven't got much chance to practice with spells yet but I'm certain you can handle this." For a while she explained how to focus, letting the method be fully understood.

Not knowing too much of magic herself didn't help matters but she'd been using this spell for a great deal of time now. Feeling confident of her ability to impart the knowledge she bid him try it. A few false starts were to be expected. Getting this to work was imperative and could possibly mean the difference between life and death for them. Finally after a half hour of sputtering and causing little flashes he managed to keep a faint light going. Her encouraging words that he would be able to do this made it far easier to keep trying. Now if he could just manage to brighten it up a little. In all this took around an hour. She could tell her level of fatigue was extreme.

She'd carried him so far, on top of floating the strange device along with them while holding the food packet in her mouth and keeping her spell going. Combined with fleeing earlier she was more tired than ever before. Eventually he got it right. Now would come a very difficult test.

"I truly hate to tell you this my boy. I need you to stand guard. I must sleep a while." His enthusiasm over his success was extinguished in an instant as his face took on a horrified look.

"But I can't..." Interrupting she pulled him close to hug him tightly once more.

"Dear, I can hardly stand. My eyes are half-closing themselves. I taught you this so you can do this." Tears streamed down his face, fearful of what was to come.

"Shh. Mommy loves and trusts you with her life. All you have to do is watch over me for a while and keep the light up. I have been going so long, and my head hurts so much. I can't stay awake anymore." She held him tightly against her, wishing to grant him some modicum of confidence.

"You can do this. I am so so sorry to make you. I know you can do it. Just watch that way." She pointed a now quite dirty hoof down the tunnel.

"If anything comes, wake me up. Try not to be scared little one. I'm right here with you. Can you do this for me?" She was afraid she'd faint before he even answered as her head nodded. He sniffled, squeezing back tightly.

"Mom, I..okay." He wanted to be brave for her. He loved his mother so very much.

"You're a good boy. Keep mommy safe." With that she settled on the cold floor, her head almost hitting it as she went out like her light. Shivering he stood over her. Close as he could, staring out into the creepy blackness. It was so hard to tell anything apart in that impenetrable emptiness. Shadows seemed to scatter and twitch back and forth.

Mommy was trusting him with an important responsibility now. He did not want to disappoint her. Keep the light going and watch that way, that's all there is to it. She didn't say for how long. He kept repeating to himself her words, he could do this. Time passed so slowly in this haze of worry. How long was it now? Not very long yet. She needs to sleep. A few times he felt his own head dip as he gazed into that scary darkness. Now he feared falling asleep himself.

"No, mom has worked so hard. I won't fall asleep." The fear settling over him of what may be forever lurking just outside the reach of his vision turned out to be enough to spur him into remaining awake.

He stood like a statue for what felt like forever. It was so difficult for him to keep his faint little light going, but it did provide an extra focus to stay awake. To him eternities passed waiting, hoping his mother would awaken soon. It was so painful to be alone like this. The sound of her breathing as she slept was a reassurance he desperately needed. It was taking so long. Must keep mommy safe. She said so. The ever-present sickly scent would not desist. Finally, finally his mother rose and restarted her light spell.

"Mom, mom I did it. I was so scared!" He clung to her as she smiled down at him, his own spell died out.

"You did, thank you. I knew you could do it." She nuzzled him softly and stretched. The floors in this place were hardly ideal for sleeping on.

"You're probably tired out now. Get on my back again, I'm okay now." Once more she picked up their small prizes and continued onward. She'd still had the wherewithal to keep marking halls and tunnels as they passed. If she did not they would surely have been hopelessly lost by now. If they had to they could even find the way back towards where they came in. A last resort only. A systematic search would surely reveal some other way out of this waking nightmare?

He fell asleep quickly after putting out so much effort. Something she never would have forced him to do if there was any other choice. His weight on her back now reassured her that he was okay. Leaving him alone like that in this place hurt her very much inside.

"At least my head doesn't hurt as bad now." It still ached but the long rest did help tremendously. Having a chance to recuperate also emboldened her somewhat. Being rested and feeling capable once more drove her on. Her iron determination and will that they would find a way out granted her renewed stamina to keep pushing.

It will be around the next corner, or the next. However many it took. The entirely disturbing thought came to her that perhaps they might indeed wind up having to risk trying to go up or down one of the lift shafts to find an exit. It would be incredibly dangerous. Who knew what other murky horrors might be below in this desolate and forgotten place? So far they encountered nothing physical and still felt like they could have died. Whatever entity may lay in wait here was incomprehensible, impossible to fathom or imagine. All she knew was this scent which pervaded everything told a story of nothing good. What awful thing happened here? She found herself longing for the outside, the open air of the wastes.

It was nothing so good itself, but compared to this a breath of it now would be heavenly. The only positive was for now they were still alive, for this they could be thankful. Though bad luck brought them here, luck also granted them this one reprieve. They hadn't encountered that awful unnatural fatigue again, to go back through where it happened was the most terrifying prospect yet. Somewhere in her heart she knew she could not possibly survive another such assault, not so soon. The first time may have been a simple fluke of willpower. To face it again would take such a stout soul she couldn't imagine anypony having that kind of courage. Their flight through this place long gone from memory was taking much too long.

By now a whole day must have surely passed. The mounting thirst and hunger was tempting her to open the large food packet found earlier. It would be best if they could avoid eating it, doing so would surely increase their thirst even further. At some point soon there would be no choice. If only there was time to pick up their packs. There was a several day supply of water in them. Thinking of refreshment now was not a good idea. It impressed just how far they'd been pushed. Feeling more pride in her son than herself was something she had no qualms about. He was better than her and deserved more than a futile end in this hole in the ground.

He slept soundly, draped atop her as she slowly strode through the maze of corridors and tunnels. How did anypony ever build such a place? She couldn't envision how many ponies it took or how long it must have taken to create anything this enormous. What was it for? It must span miles on this floor alone. How truly immense could it actually be? Whatever horror consumed this place she did not want to face. If ponies were capable of building something like this and were still unsafe, what chance would she and her son have? A creeping despair stole over her once more. They were so small, so insignificant compared to this. They shouldn't be here. No one should be here.

Though ponies once roamed these halls the echo of their distant lives no longer sounded here. It no more belonged to the world of the living than fallen spirits. The empty passages told the only story she needed to know about it, all life was sucked out of here long ago. This was no safe haven. Should they survive, it would make a chilling cautionary tale. Therein lay the rub, more and more they felt the hope of surviving diminish. With every dead end and hall or tunnel explored they could only be worn down. Despite the immensity of the halls they felt confined. This was not a spot one would choose as their final resting place. Something shifted in the very air.

Still as it was there was a definite new layer to the oppressive atmosphere. The dark itself fueling the feeling something utterly alien was happening. Something beyond the ken of young and old alike. Could anything ever deliver these tortured walls of old from this fate? It did not seem so. What good remained with power enough to cleanse it? Nothing in this world stood sacred and sacrosanct, untouched by pain. Eventually she would tire out again. Forcing her son to stand alone once was enough, to make him do so again was an idea she couldn't take. For the moment she was alright, but managing to live through another day in here did not seem at all possible. Some otherworldly predator awaited in the dark.

"This is ridiculous, we must have walked for miles by now." She mumbled to herself. It was still so difficult to catch a breath. The smell and other underlying odors were so pervasive. If it weren't for the scent lingering everywhere it might have been tolerable to traverse the mine. She really didn't know what a mine was for. She knew very little at all, but did admit and accept this of herself. It always made her extra cautious. If they hadn't been forced in here she would never have chosen to enter in the first place.

"My poor boy, my shining light. I must get you out of here, I must." This misadventure was very close to ending tragically for both of them. Muttering, His eyes opened.

"Oh, you're awake. Did you have a good rest dear?" Gently she set him down. He wasn't that heavy, but carrying him did require more effort than usual in this situation.

"Yeah, mom." He coughed heavily for a moment, almost choking before it subsided. This worried her very much. They would start becoming seriously dehydrated soon. The last time they drank anything was nearly two days ago already. They could perhaps last another day or two without but it would quickly become yet another serious problem added to their ever-growing list of serious problems.

She thought she knew misery before, but now the true meaning was becoming apparent. How far did these tunnels go? She never imagined anything this big in her wildest dreams. The remnants of old skyscrapers were large, this was ludicrous.

"It can't go much farther, it just cant." Was a thought repeating in her head. The vent they passed so long ago was such a horrendous tease with its promises of the outdoors. If only it was large enough to escape through. It was damp, dirty, filthy in this forgotten realm where living things once trod.

They could wind up with all manner of illness just by being here she reckoned. No time to worry about that, must find a way out. The only motivation left now were thoughts of reaching fresh air, such as it was, and light. No matter how dim it might become outside this entirely unnatural dark unnerved them to no end. She felt ill and weak, wearied from the strain. The only strength to be drawn now was from her absolute conviction to keep her son alive. Ponies built this place, they should feel at home here. There was no such feeling to be granted.

"Are you alright?" She coughed a bit herself. Weakly he gave a slight nod.

This was the worst situation they'd ever been in. Tight situations were something of a constant in the wastes. This was something so far removed from normality nothing made any sense. He rubbed his throat.

"Don't talk anymore if we don't have to." Was an imperative she gave him. It made their throats hurt now if they spoke. She kept her thoughts to herself.

"It's this air. We could go much longer without water if it weren't for that." Glancing at her boy she stopped, having noticed something of interest inset in the wall beside a door.

This was very promising being the first actual door they'd seen since finding the food package. He looked over where she was gazing intently. Some kind of multilevel marking or something was there, riddled with lines and circles. Below a sign indicating 'Security Station' was haphazardly hanging askew a spike driven deep into the stone. A few red arrows adorned the strange markings. She could comprehend this was some sort of map, seeing the mine represented visually would prove to be extremely valuable. Unable to understand the writing was concerning, but three exits were clearly visible. The one where they came in was depicted as being ridiculously close to another.

This made her heart feel heavy, if only they'd gone down the other tunnel first. No time for that now. The third exit was shown to be what she understood as a fair distance yet, it was reachable. She stared at the map for several moments, fixing the exact path they should take in her mind. No more mistakes, just one now could be it for them. She'd let them be forced in here and gone the wrong way, she couldn't bear taking another misstep. She peeped through the door. It was devoid of life as expected. Nothing in here should really be all that dangerous, yet it was. Nearly having the life snuffed out of her earlier made her very wary.

The wooden door crumbled away at the slightest press to give off a hideously echoing clack as she grimaced. Causing that kind of noise they could have done without. Full of fright at the possibility it might summon something from the depths they stood wide-eyed and staring for a couple minutes, straining to see anything that could indicate danger. Nothing happened. She took as deep a relieved breath as could be managed in this environment. Inching her way into the room she could see it was both partially carved out of the rock itself and some sort of metal to give it a more comfortable shape. A rotted cot was strung in halves against the far wall and some sort of ancient square machine with knobs and switches mounted into the wall on the left.

An ancient steel seat sat squarely in the center of the room on busted wheels. What immediately caught her eye was a cabinet on the right. She wiped it off, through the glass of the cabinet she could see it was a gun storage case. There was space for several weapons, one of which remained. A shiny heavy revolver hung there tauntingly, above an ammo box. If they could just get it out. The gun looked like new. She yanked the door. The case rattled, denying her access to the prize. Her current pistol was a toy in comparison to the one just out of reach. Grunting, she tugged again. It would not open Some sort of mechanism or lock was all that stood between them. Struggle as she might it would not disengage.

She tried to pry it open using magic but only succeeded in causing it to dent in a few places slightly. Frustrated, she bashed the glass noisily. It proved to be surprisingly thick. Hitting it caused a wide crack to run down the middle which to their stunned amazement knit itself back together. Something impressive from the old world she knew nothing about. Turning around to look about the room, nothing else seemed to be present. There must be a key, something to force it open, anything. This was an opportunity they could not let pass. Obtaining a weapon like the one in there may mean all the difference. There on the wall was a hanging hook with nothing on it.

Maybe it fell in the decades of accumulated dust and dirt? She scraped and dug around the area at great length, right as she was about to give up her hoof hit something. Brushing it off she found it to be an oddly shaped key. This must be it. The key looked frail and flimsy with age. She found it fit in a slot on the side of the case. Gingerly she turned it, afraid it would snap. Right as she felt the pressure would be too much for the aged key a light glow surrounded it as a click inside popped open the case door. The door hissed open softly of it's own accord. Sliding it out of the case she was awed by the weapons size. It was heavy, sporting an eight inch barrel.

The gun's only adornment was a snake engraved alongside of the firing mechanism. Taking great care she examined the gun. Before some pony placed it in this cabinet for the last time it was cleaned, and kept well within, protected against the creeping grime. Perhaps the cabinet itself had other properties they could not discern which may have helped the gun remain in such pristine condition. It was one of the later dual designs intended for use by combined forces. She could not know this of course, only that it was something the likes of which she'd never seen before. Carefully she played at the gun, never having loaded a revolver before.

It did not take long to determine how to undo the safety lock and roll the chambers to the left, the action of which was incredibly smooth. The mouth catch firing mechanism was not necessary for unicorns, but she tested it anyway. Each of the gun's actions was smoother than she imagined they could be. Her nearly ruined pistol was pathetic and dwarfed in comparison. Hanging in the cabinet was a body strap system for carrying both the gun and ammunition in quick reload containers. Opting to ditch the ancient pistol it took her a few moments to figure out how to put it all on right, and how to use the quick loaders properly, each of which held the gun's capacity of six rounds.

Finally clipping it all into place she felt safer already. In all there were sixty rounds. It may not be useful against whatever horror was lurking in this mine but it would surely prove to be later. Slinging the now loaded and safely locked weapon aside her it was time to head out of this place. There was still some distance to cover before they would find the exit. Having a firm idea where it was and obtaining this new weapon gave her renewed hope and invigorated her efforts. She waved her son to follow, trotting into the unknown once more. She'd been using the light spell for such a long time now it was easier and less taxing, even a bit brighter than before. Practice really did improve things.

This improved light gave a far more impressive view of their surroundings. This huge place was really built by ponies? Neither of them could truly imagine the effort that went into such an endeavor. Merely surviving was mostly what their lives consisted of. The ponies of times past had such great power and ability, how did they let the world become as it was? These thoughts were much too big for them as they journeyed through the desolate tunnels and halls. It was becoming easier to catch a breath, this must be a good sign. Nevertheless it was still a frightening path through darkness. She dared hope whatever waylaid them would not catch them in its terrifying grip again. It was strangely cold here.

Too cold. She abruptly stopped going forward as her son bumped into her.

"Huh?" The temperature drop ahead was far from normal. Taking a step forward proved it to be all that much colder. This was totally amiss as the rest of this place. At least that awful sickly sweet scent was less present here. The sound of some distant alien machinery caught their attention. Apprehensively they continued ahead. Along the wall in tattered red letters was the symbol 'Control Room' She only recognized one of the barely still visible arrows after it, pointing down the tunnel. It was the same style and shape of arrow on the wall where they found the gun.

It was so cold, barely tolerable. It did have the effect of slightly easing their sore throats and letting them catch their breath more readily. Fortunately it wasn't getting any colder. If it did this area would be impassable and all would be for naught. Where was it coming from? They'd never been this cold in their lives. It was an entirely new and altogether disconcerting phenomenon for both. In some way it was comforting to have it ease the thick air somewhat, in another it brought fresh fear with it of what lay ahead.

"Please let us reach the way out." She thought over and over.

Fighting against themselves to move forward felt worse than ever. So much worry and stress was almost physically hurting. She still felt terrible over finding out she'd lead them down the wrong tunnel to start with, exposing them to unnecessary danger. Despite knowing there was no way she could have known another exit existed so close to their entrance point it leadened her heart and steadily ate away at her resolve. It was her fault. Her only solace against this dissolution of her will was this gun. It was a hard-won prize, and not anything to scoff at. Guns while not entirely scarce in the remains of the world were mostly rickety old things like her discarded pistol.

The more reliable of them sometimes worked. This weapon looked as if it were just created by some expert craftspony of old. She could either keep it for their own use or trade it with one of the few trading assemblies of ponies which still existed. It would fetch a very high price. The clean ammo and quick loaders would garner a fair amount of caps by themselves. This was truly a good haul if they could just get out of this mysterious gloomy place. Her hope of doing so was nearly extinguished multiple times already. Perhaps finding something so rare was a sign their luck was finally improving. There was some sort of wash basin jutting out of the tunnel wall on the right with rusted pipes leading to it.

She did at least know these used to provide water somehow. Could she dare hope this would prove to still function? It was risky. Drinking water from an unverified source was an incredible gamble in the wastes. It could cause all manner of problems from minor illness to radiation sickness or worse. She also knew from the few who ever bothered to teach anything there were ways to tell, and even drugs able to flush ones system of such ills. They possessed none of these things. They were just two poor ponies who were now stuck in the middle of a ridiculously bad situation. She fiddled with the rusted taps. The right one simply tore completely off as the metal twisted and gave way. Nothing came out of the pipe.

Turning the knob on the left yielded no better result. She managed to whisper:

"I'm sorry dear, no water here." To her his squeaked out response was far too adult sounding.

"Not your fault." She nearly burst into tears as she lead them onwards. Her only thoughts were that he didn't deserve to suffer through this. Deciding right there, she determined when they got out of here she would buy up all the bottled water she could find and let him have his fill. She would make up for this unwanted adventure somehow. They could not linger here, the cold was only tolerable while moving. Standing still for this brief moment proved they must leave quickly.

Ahead on the left stood an enormous steel door with a strange wheel-like attachment. Something felt bitterly wrong here. The door was tightly sealed, somehow something was finding a way around the closed seems, pouring a steady stream of light smoky looking steam. It was the source of the cold. They could feel it emanating from within. Never having seen or heard of such a thing before they passed it by quickly. Some ancient machinery hummed behind there. As curious as they might be it was not worth taking another risk to satisfy. Life in the wastes taught one quickly it was far better to err on the side of caution. Those that failed to heed this one overriding lesson fared poorly.

She'd witnessed the results of carelessness from afar several times over the course of her wanderings. Up to this point her efforts to avoid such a fate for herself and her son were successful. None could be considered rich in this barren world so bereft of right and reason. By her own reckoning she'd scavenged just enough caps to live off of. She learned the approximate worth of things through watching others deal sidelong, listening to the way they bartered back and forth. Everything was negotiable to a degree, highly dependent on what you could offer in exchange be it caps, goods or services.

Traveling trade caravans were few and far between, but more trustworthy for the most part, probably due to the need of keeping their reputation as fair traders intact. Trade with any and all was still possible, if more risky. The reason many of the ancient machines which did survive were dangerous was the simple fact those were designed to do so. With war in mind many devices were hardened against all conceivable manner of attack. Many of these were meant for use in the very war which prevented their being used, none anticipating such a blow as to end the war could be landed. Not one would have been imagining many ages later that some unlucky pony or other with no knowledge of what they were or did would come across such creations. Knowledge truly did equate to power now.

Those who obtained such knowledge often flaunted the power this granted them. Instead of using it to better the world around them they generally chose to use their advantages to crippling effect, worsening the already sorry state of existence even further. Extending their reach and hold over the wastes as far as possible, the few to wield such power did find themselves learning a once well known lesson. Whoever is at the top is always the first target of the next most ambitious. Unbidden power plays would sometimes rage across the already violated landscape. Occasionally some scrap of technology would wind up in the hooves of ponies with no care for any but themselves.

In a way the war raged on in microcosm, only nowadays as mere free-for-alls. This wild misdirection they'd been forced down impressed upon her all the more their need to better themselves. Being able to read the signs hanging throughout the mine would have surely made escape from here much easier. It wouldn't have made surviving the strange force which nearly extinguished them any less draining, but they may not have encountered it at all if they knew the correct path to take. By her estimation their wandering around in the blackness took a good fourteen hours more than necessary. The only good to come from this so far was the revolver. As they drew further away from the door the cold became less prevalent.

Unfortunately as the air warmed they found themselves sucking in the same thick sickly sweet scent as before. Why was it everywhere? The cold in the area must have dampened it. Now it hit them full force again. They'd been breathing it in for so long she'd nearly forgotten just how bad it actually was. Re-exposure to it needled her to get them out of here as rapidly as possible. Judging from the image there should be a fork somewhere ahead where they must take the left passage. The right looked odd in the diagram as it ended like some buried cul-de-sac. Who chose where tunnels lead in this place?

They were strangely criss-crossed at odd angles and inclines. Every level followed this odd arrangement according to the image. They would finally be out soon. Their excitement built as the air began to smell less sickly, the disgusting sweet smell diminishing. the exit must be close-by. The eerily silent tunnels almost felt to beckon them to return within, their company a welcome change from the decades of disuse. The long, lonely empty tunnels recalling a time when ponies roamed within freely, a fond memory of life. It was an odd feeling as they finally came upon a heavy wooden door similar to the one they entered by. This one must have been closed when the war ended. They could just push it open.

It was heavy but between them the ancient rusted and unmoving pillar hinges finally gave up and ripped right off, sending the enormous door tilting out to crash with a tremendous thump, splintering into perhaps thousands of pieces. The noise was awful as it echoed back down the tunnels.

"Let's get out of here!" She managed to speak fairly loudly despite her throat. Both bolted and ran for a time, occasionally looking back over their shoulders at the receding entranceway. Finally they were free, free from the smell and the fear. The more distance they put between themselves and that lost place the better.

Yes, lost is how she would think of it. Life didn't seem to belong there. They must warn anypony willing to listen to stay well away from it, and what drove them in. None would wish to visit. Even the subdued natural light of the outside strained through the ever present cloud cover hurt their eyes after so long utilizing only their dim magical lighting. This would pass. After going around a rocky outcropping which also hid this door from sight they got their bearings. Far off in the distance could just be seen the very broken patchwork road they'd taken four days earlier to wind up near the swamps. Why any road lead near there in the first place was a matter long forgotten.

There was still a great deal of walking ahead of them to retrieve their packs and belongings. They should make it decently well. They could slow down and take it easy now. Anything was better than the confining walls of that place. They never realized before just how vast and open the land was. The adventure they just shared would be an experience neither would ever forget. The pain and terror of it would be ingrained in them for the rest of their lives. By the same token they now knew what true fear was, and could take great pride in having survived their encounter. They'd endured a hardship no pony should ever be subjected to and come out of it nearly unscathed save for a few scratches, and perhaps an enduring fear of the dark.

It might be the pair may never quite feel safe again. Whether this was for good or ill they could never truly tell. By the time their packs were reattained they would have to use all the water currently stored in them. It didn't matter, they were alive and away from that hole in the ground which may as well have been a taste of Tartarus itself. Whatever creeping things lurked in the bowels of the mine were welcome to confine themselves there. They must bring warning to others of the many wrongs going on. As terrible as other ponies could be, they were certainly worse. First they needed water. The thick rivers which once forked and spread through this area were long since mostly emptied.

Clean water was still attainable in some places, not often, not easily and not without cost. Absolutely everything held some value, even those which may at one time have been worthless. So little remained that a few pieces of ancient tin could bring a small price from the right buyer. Water being the commodity it now was commanded a premium. She'd done all in her power to locate sources of it. These efforts mostly did not pay off. Many fruitless searches confirmed that fresh water was at best incredibly difficult to find. Always there was barely enough to go around. Some did find supplies of it once in a long while. A few bottles here, a hidden supply cache there.

It never amounted to much, really only sufficient to keep small groups alive. An entire town was nearly impossible to supply. Somehow a few managed, thanks to barely functioning technology few understood. A dreary thought occurred. It might be dangerous returning for the packs. What if there were more like that horrible pony from before? If it was some kind of sickness she dreaded exposing them to it. The packs were necessary, of that there could be no doubt. Inside each was bottled water and other supplies accumulated from long years of hard effort, abandoning them was not an option. She was well equipped now anyway, not much could stand up to the withering fire her new gun could throw.

Judging from the look and feel the repeat fire rate of this would be excellent, this was a guess as firing ammo to test felt like a waste. She'd seen one in action before, owned by her own father. A pitiful looking barely functional revolver which nearly killed himself as often as anything else. It still packed an impressive punch even in such a terrible state, when it worked. In comparison this gun was a beast an entire order of magnitude above. Bracing themselves they once more walked the same path towards the swamps. There was nothing to like about anything which happened recently. Three, perhaps even four times they nearly died. Still, they were alive.

Stumbling around in the dark for so long gave an entirely new perspective on just how small they really were. They found themselves wondering what other treasures they may have been forced to bypass in those unfathomable depths. Taking a moment she noted only one of the quick loaders held a different color of bullet, it came to her attention they were also marked with the symbol H.E. in gold relief. What did this mean? Something else to make her wary and regret not having found a way to learn what such things meant. Ponies roaming the wastes rarely made any sort of lasting bonds with others. It was too easy to lose another, and less painful that way.

This was why she felt so burdened by her son after his father abandoned them. For her whole life it was made clear she was worthless. Her parents barely tried, never missing an opportunity to berate her for failure. She was too young back then to realize they felt burdened by her in exactly the same way. They didn't love her at all, seeing her as only a disappointing and pointless investment of time and energy. Not being very smart didn't help any. Figuring this out eventually was part of why she finally started to truly care for her child. Recognizing the emptiness in her heart she poured all her soul into raising him and caring for him properly.

It was hard work and a terrible strain at times trying to survive and bring up a child. For filling that gap inside he was worth every moment. She vowed then to give her own life if it meant keeping him safe. Unlike many false vows given by false hearts trying to gain some advantage over others, she meant every word. It was so wonderful to be outside once more. Just being able to move freely was a joy. As they walked she could not shake an eerie feeling of eyes upon them from somewhere. Shaking her head she shoved the feeling aside, there was nothing out here. The stumbling about in the dark was over. The vile pony was probably still bashing himself against the far off door.

Whatever drove him a frightening example of how dangerous encounters in the wastes could truly be. She did not want her son to see their friends corpse later when they arrived. He had seen and felt more horror in the past couple of days than many ponies would in an entire lifetime. Nearly having forgotten about the unnaturally strong pony for the moment she gazed off in the direction of their packs. Perhaps nearly a whole day of walking lay ahead of them to reach the location. Very worried for the young ponies well-being she brought herself to ask if he wanted to be carried once more. A parched response of yes please was all the motivation she required.

Helping him up to settle atop her, it was easy to tell how exhausted he was.

"You can rest easy now dear, mommy's got you. You're safe." His eyes closed quickly. Her own strength was nearly at an end after this ordeal, but would carry him to the ends of the world if need be. Taking gentle steps so as not to wake him, she walked off into the wastes.

The game has begun, the first die cast. I'd offer you some popcorn, but tainted as it is you would probably die. A fresh veggie dog is right out of the question. Enjoy the show.

Only What You Earn

"Is it here, scientist?" He was asked. That voice. At the sound he dropped the pry bar he was attempting to use on an air-sealed door. It hit the ground with a heavy clank. An unusually dark orange-coated unicorn stallion wearing a lab coat and thick-rimmed glasses looked to where it was coming from. His expression betrayed being spooked and wary at this voice and its question. He hardly knew what he even looked like, always he showed up unexpectedly and hidden in the dark. Just being near to this presence made the unicorns blood run cold. It always felt dangerous.

"No, but.." He began, but with this he found himself slammed into the unyielding steel wall behind him, just hard enough to hurt very much all over.

It was not the worst he'd ever received. Standing up and readjusting his glasses he retrieved the bar and continued working at the sealed door. He knew better than to stop just because of that. This was not a pony to anger or displease in any way.

"I do wish you would call me by my name. I have been working for you ever so long." He mumbled around the bar while trying to get it to catch between the doors seems. A dark and raspy response was given as he continued to pry at the ancient rusted airlock.

"You forget your place. You are scientist and nothing more. I know your depravity. It is by my will alone you have all those pathetic toys you are so fond of, and can take them away. You continue to live at my discretion. Find it. Fail and I will strip you of them and much more. Now, stand aside." The unicorn jumped out of the way as the heavy door was somehow simply ripped from its frame and slammed into the ground letting a tremendous burst of air blast out, stirring up a cloud of dust. The door just barely missed landing on him. He knew the pony did not care. He choked on it violently for a moment. The inner chambers of this small unlisted stable were now accessible. It smelled burnt inside.

"How did y.." He was cut off.

"Get back to work." The voice was already trailing off into the distance down the old hallway. The scientist panted and dusted himself off shakily as his heartbeat slowed to normal. He stared at it, stunned at the violence and power displayed. He'd known from the start this pony was powerful, but not like this. The thick steel door weighed at least a ton and been torn from its moorings like it was made of paper. He didn't know how this pony knew this place was here. It should contain a piece of what he was told to look for. Like every other time they spoke he felt like it was simple luck just to have survived.

For a moment he considered if continuing to work for this pony was worth it before coming to the conclusion that for him, it was. Over the course of his tenuous employment with this figure to accomplish his work he'd been given access to all sorts of intact scientific equipment that simply could not be found in the wastes. Where any of it came from was never revealed. As much a mystery as the dark pony himself. Everything from simple beakers that seemed nearly indestructible to things which he could not even dream of before. Before.. He shook his head. It was best not to think of then. He'd been given all he could ever want and more, and would continue to be given more so long as he did what he was told.

When not actively performing research or other jobs like this for the pony hidden in the dark he was allowed to do whatever he wished with the equipment. The presence of the pony could still be dimly felt even at this distance. It seemed able to hide that feeling whenever it wanted to approach unheard or seen. Now he had so many wonderful playthings. He'd even been given test subjects. Lovely, lovely test subjects. He didn't know where they came from either, but it didn't matter. He could do whatever he wanted with most of them. A time or two he was given oddly specific things to figure out how to do to one or two.

What he was told to do with them was even more intriguing than some of the things he'd thought up himself. It was a true thrill to do what was asked then. Maybe that was even more of the reason he stayed. The hidden laboratory he was furnished with would have been the envy of any pre-war pony. How some of them screamed as they writhed, tied to the operating table. What a delight to his ears. He nearly drooled just thinking of returning to it. Oh yes. It was most definitely worth continuing. He would never have been able to do these things before. A little pain now and then was a price he was perfectly willing to keep paying. The rewards outweighed it by far. Sometimes he might have enjoyed it a little bit.

He pulled a folded map out of his pocket. It showed the layout of the entire facility he was about to enter. What amazing treasures surely lay inside? Too bad he was told only to look for that one thing and ignore anything else. He would just have to come back another time on his own. He would get back to his lab soon enough. Just do what he was told and he would get even more toys to play with. There was so much knowledge to be gained. So many things to try. So very many. His thirst for knowledge knew no bounds. The dark pony hurt him, but also taught a great deal about things he'd never imagined.

"For science." He walked inside.

He certainly seems happy enough, don't you think?

A Traveler's Tail or Two

It hurts, those moments pondering, lost in the dark. What do we do? The grim world around offering no comfort, no relief. The quiet darkness which settled over the land nearly a mocking joke in itself against the sanctity of life. It has been this way for several eternities already. Those struggling just to remain alive feel no joy, no happiness. There is none to share, no revelry. Carve out your path or fall to the wayside, beaten and broken like tides upon the unyielding rocks. There are no tides now, and little else. What other way forward can there be? Take what you want, or have it taken from you. This is how things are. How it seems to have always been. Where is the light?

Not even a dim spark has been offered since quiet darkness covered the land in empty eternal silence. Those possessed of the darkest hearts still know loss. Is this truly what they sought? Could it be they too made a mistake? A serious miscalculation beyond the scope of of what was sought? Both the dark and the light make mistakes. This blanketing quiet may be an epic blunder wrought by both sides. There is nothing to gain when everypony is dead, and they are still dying to this day. Everything is. Every number of them, slowly. The world itself lay worn and faltering. Not a single cadre of any size could hold onto life for long. Not like this. Who will remember after the last pathetic spark of life goes out?

It is a shrill and screaming silence. Everything dies sometime. Fast or slow, but not like this. Will the dim shadow cast by what little of their great civilization still remains standing be around long enough for something, anything, to see it? It was once said there is always hope. What hope could possibly be here, in this? You live a short span in this place, and if truly fortunate, you die quickly. The ever dimming light grows weaker by the day. With every dull second it loses more and more ground. Soon, there will be no hoofprints left in the sand. What grim shadow reaches out now, how could things possibly be worse than this? They say you should never ask such questions.

Doing so invites pain and misery to come crashing down from on high. Does some invisible entity sanction this act? Perhaps it is just another aspect of that intangible force that grants ones mark, whatever it might be. Time still moves, albeit slowly. Still struggling? You should give up and in. Be crushed, and finally let it end. Equestria lays in heaps of little more than monumental ruins full of dust and ash. A world devoid of hope. Hope, dreams, and life itself. These things are and were always fleeting. At one time, some may even have attained such dreams for an all too brief moment, but the tears of the broken fall in all times and all places.

The great pony races dreams were an ever higher aspiration towards peace, happiness, and prosperity for all. These dreams lay shattered in the briefest instant, the result of simple misunderstanding to be mired in growing hatred. The past is still calling to their hearts even now in some twisted way. Where their world could be now if this did not happen is anyponies guess. Few dare to dream anymore. Look what it got them. The slightest light of hope dimming, still flickers in the darkness. One ember, one spark remaining is sometimes enough to rekindle that blazing fire. The rising hope of one may embolden others to step forward into the quiet night in search of that spark.

One little light, holding out against all the darkness the whole world can muster. Dying candles often burn brightest just before going out. A light strong enough to find a path ahead must be bright. Is there such a thing? Could a reprieve from the empty silence blanketing all things truly exist? How can anyone uplift a whole world torn entirely asunder? Life struggles just to keep some grip on existence in this heartless drudgery. Hope is a concept few still conceive of. What point is there of hoping in this place? Who cares? Violence is the usual response. Help each other? Who would be stupid enough to do such a thing? Working together for the common good is a nearly foreign concept here. Alien in the very thought.

The light stands right on the very edge of going out completely. It would be incredibly easy to finally abandon this miserable place to meet its end, but what's this? A few ponies actually trying to right things, can it be so? Why would they even try? It is impossible. It cannot be done. They should just give up like everypony, and everything else. After all, they stand no chance whatsoever, their time is already up. Come and gone. Why won't they give up? Time always passes. It never stops. No matter how powerful one may be, there is no holding it at bay. Each tormented moment since the end falling dead as the last, filled with pain. The suffering and torment of those lost to the ages ignored. It must be.

To listen to those voices from long ago can bring only despair and pained longing. Trying to make sense of a destroyed world is futile. Enforcing your will upon it is another matter entirely. The dust never truly settled. The faltering strength of the ponies is barely able to hold up any light within these dull and endless years. Those above, still know the sun and moon. Their lives are little better for it. They might as well be shrouded in darkness as well. Those below, are left to their own devices. The grand mission of the pegasi, once to protect. They serve only themselves now. A young filly just reaching adulthood has decided to accept her fate and throw herself wholeheartedly into her task.

Given by her father, a tarnished golden chalice to fill, taken up without choice. A task begun in sheer desperation. The waterworks come and gone, she now takes it upon herself to bring life where there is none. Traveler quickly found the longest road to tread is one with no friends. She may have gained one, perhaps another. After a brief delay and a quick acquaintance with true pain, she returns to her mission, her quest. In the wasted lands of their once great world lie many terrifying encounters waiting to spring upon the unwary. So far she and her lone companion have been just fortunate enough not to die or run across the worst of them. How long this sort of luck may last, who can know? Seeking a book writ down long in yesteryear may be nothing more than a pipe dream.

An impossible mad gamble for a light in her darkened world. Their hopes of finding this gloried object dashed once against the rocks already. They trudge along steadily now, the miles passing as they seek to catch up with a surprisingly fast-moving team far ahead of them. Their first shaky decisions now stand behind. In addition it seems there may be a somewhat unusual follower. Both of their armor suits look strangely unblemished and bright in this endless dullness. That blaze of golden-white armor was such a high-intensity white color it made him look extremely out of place in this morass of destruction. The once gleaming hidden gilded name tag spoke only to past failures.

For a time they'd ventured through the ruins of buildings and broken, wasting technology. Sitting in the vastness of a world so long fallen silent. Leaving the outskirts of the city had felt poignant to Traveler. Most was ruined and useless, few treasures waiting to be found. This was not to say there were none left buried to find. You might not want to find them though. Without the support of a large group It was just too dangerous remaining in one place for very long. A long yearning glance over the shoulder and they'd set off once again. What did she hope to see? There was nothing there. Just another quiet tomb where the fabled ponies of times past fell where they stood, trembling in fear.

Most, unknowing the horror to come down atop them. What must it have been like to hear that subtle rumbling as it closed in on all sides? A soft sound growing louder until the deafening cacophony spilled past, rending all in its path and leaving nothing behind for those unlucky enough to remain standing? What of those that survived? The sting of losing all they ever created must have spurred deep. An insult to all that lived. Some watched it happen. Her thoughts wandered over these things as their journey continued for some days. Down Range told her their world was once bright and beautiful to behold, filled with so many things that fired her imagination. His descriptions of how it once was were grand and too few.

She could get very little of it out of him despite her curiosity. It must have been wonderful. Yet, his words about it felt and sounded cautious, guarded. Like something was wrong even then. It perplexed and bothered her. Something was indeed wrong then of course, the state of the world now showed just how far that truly reached. The few times Traveler asked he nearly cringed before wearily granting some insight. She felt bad about it. It was just so interesting. It sounded so colorful and glorious back then. What could possibly have gone so wrong in a world filled with such wondrous things? Nothing looked so bright now.

All of it drained away by the harsh encompassing reality that was now the wastes and collapsing ruins. The roaring end of the war was heard and felt everywhere, and then..nothing except deafening silence. The world long ago gave up on anything resembling color. Down Range admitted the grand armor he wore was a self-indulgence he never expected to actually take into combat. Upon attaining his rank of General it effectively precluded ever returning to the front lines during the war. He'd been through enough by then anyway, and seen too many good ponies die in horrible ways. Including friends of his. The real reason he ordered the suit in secret was due to the war being over.

He assumed just like every other pony the end of the war was near. If he held any idea what the real end would result in, he would certainly have done things differently and saved as many as possible. Nearly a hundred fifty miles, and even more thanks to their other effort already lay behind them. The distance to their next objective measured almost four hundred more. Longer than her original trip to escape. It would be a long, slow, and wearying road. It already was. They'd wasted some time heading to another city before setting out proper. That was perhaps not the best decision Traveler made so far.

It was indeed a mistake, but the experience gained in doing so gave her a far better understanding of just how bad things out in the crumbling world might be. Knowledge she intended to put to good use. The gamble in going there did not pay off in what she could deem a tangible way, but it imparted a different sense of hope. There might still be some power of good out amongst the ruined vistas of the past. The silent rocks hide much, far too many secrets lost to time and memory. As much as Traveler hated to admit it, there was a certain air of freedom and adventure now that she was no longer all alone. Down Range was right though, the pain of loss did feel like it would never truly go away.

On more than one occasion she found herself entertaining the idea that dying alongside her parents would have been preferable. Why did she feel guilty? There was nothing she could have done to save either of them, and would certainly have died as well if she hadn't ran. It was a nagging sensation that refused to let go of her thoughts.

"No!" She jolted awake and panted heavily while looking around. The image of her parents lifeless bodies once more awakened her to find only the desolate wastes awaiting. They would never comfort her again. She knew this, and as another night passed, another awful mirage of her parents lying there in a heap.

Their group would move on again shortly. She slipped into the greatest gift her father could ever have given her, the armored stealth suit Moonlight. What was now known as day passed much too quietly, like it always did.

"Down Range, how is it these suits never seem to get very dirty?" Traveler questioned via the radio as they walked on. The strange fellow by the name of Tanner followed uncomfortably closely behind him despite being warned of the potential danger of doing such a thing. Traveler, at least, was more than happy enough to have him along. She said it was only fair to let him tag along if he wanted, considering she'd effectively done the same with Down Range.

"Simple enough. The outer shell is partially composed of something new they were calling untaintable or unstainable steel I believe. Something like that. I didn't really look into the details very deeply before.. Everything about them was state-of-the-art when they were built. My armor has a few special modifications I requested." Down Range sounded a bit forlorn. He did live through the end of the world after all. In his every word and action there felt as if some great heaviness weighed them down. That was easily forgivable. What pony would not be left shaken and sad at having lost everything and everyone they held dear? He'd lost far more than only those things.

The entire world as it was, torn from under him in what for him felt only to be a short amount of time. In all fairness, he was coping surprisingly well now. Traveler still worried over things she might say to him. Sadness was not what she wanted to bring to others. Her own sadness still stung terribly. Like a poison in her heart which would never cease hurting. A hurt she was still struggling to hold at bay and come to terms with. At least she didn't cry at the slightest thing anymore, feeling that it was at least better. Tanner listened to anything that was said openly between them as if hanging on every word for some reason. Their endless marching did not seem to bother him very much at all. Traveler was left in charge.

This was her mission, and her decisions were what they would follow. Despite his past, Down Range usually declined to take the lead. She wondered if it was out of simple respect or something else. There was such a long way to go. Could they even make it there and back? For now, they were following the sparse remnants of what at one time was a rail track to the west, once surrounded by a dense lush forest to the south, and a mountain to the north. The mountain was still a long way ahead, the track followed the bottom of it uncomfortably closely, within its shadow. If it could cast one. Had anypony ever climbed it, even before the world stopped? The forest long lay a dead and uninviting place.

The intervening years did little to make this better. It may be faster to head down south through the huge and unfriendly seeming place and turn west, but it would also mean coming near to the Haysead Swamps. Down Range remembered them as the Hayseed Swamps, just an immense bog of no particular note bordering Horseshoe Bay and far down the coast. Once, a draw for adventurous souls looking to get away from it all. Now, a place marked by the griffons as an unknown and potentially very unsafe area left unscouted since the war leveled much of the world. Many places were similar, but what little they could learn of the place from the few ponies encountered thus far was not encouraging.

Old half-remembered stories of terror and pain told by a frightened face or two here and there. Altogether it painted only a bleak picture of yet another danger to be avoided if possible. Traveler asked what a coast was, that drew a laugh from him. She liked hearing him laugh so much it didn't even matter it was at her questions. He did his best to explain. She then asked what the ocean was. Explaining all that took a while. They had nothing but time to spare as they roamed. Though she'd seen it back at the small firebase, she did not truly know what it was she was seeing. She had no prior idea as to the extent of it. It also sounded like it was much more interesting when it was lively.

The tainted water was so flat and still, dead. When they camped that night, Down Range approached her before she went to sleep as she was slipping out of Moonlight in that required awkward way. She looked up curiously at him.

"I want you to have this." He opened and levitated something strange looking out of his heavy kit. It looked curved and smooth, like a fan. It was very pretty. Both the inside and outer portion almost seemed to glint and capture the slightest light.

"What is it?" Her eyes widened at the sight of the pretty thing. She'd never seen anything like it before.

"It is a seashell. It once belonged to a living creature from the sea. Don't worry, it was empty long before I got it. For me it has been a good luck charm. They say if you hold one up to your ear just right you can hear the sounds of the ocean. Be careful though, they are very brittle." He was giving it to her? Surely she didn't deserve this gift.

"But, this is yours. I can't take it." She told him, but he insisted. Curiously she gently held it up to her ear to be surprised at the hissing and whooshing sounds it seemed to make.

"Oh!" She gasped as Down Range chuckled at her reaction.

Even just a little away from her ear it did not make any sound at all. How did that work? Tanner looked on curiously as well. He'd clearly never heard of such a thing either. She reached out to hold it up to one of his his ears as well.

"I don't hear any..oh!" They would over the next few days spend quite a bit of time listening to it when resting. A simple trick of how sound and air works, it seemed like something magical from a time none recalled.

"How long do you think before we catch up with those guys?" Traveler asked as they camped in a little hidden spot they'd come across. It was a good place to make a fire as it would be very difficult for anything to see it.

A previous fire was already set here. The group they were after probably found the same spot. It also proved they were probably close to catching up with them. After their failure to find an intact Farmer's Almanac in Baltimare they were not feeling too hopeful, but a strange experience there did keep these hopes up somewhat.

"We were delayed by our little side trip. From now on, I think we should trust the griffon intel implicitly. Unless we have very good reason to go off track again it is probably not a good idea. From what we know, Tasket's group is very fast and skilled. They must be moving at a pace almost matching our own. I'm impressed." Down Range certainly looked surprised.

It was nice to see him without that helmet on all the time. He sat there in his gleaming armor. He still kept his gilded nameplate obscured. Did it really matter so much? It was sheer happenstance she or Tanner recognized him from some ancient comics. Few if any other should even have a clue as to who he was.

"Okay, but who is Intel?" Traveler asked. This drew a snort and a smirk from both him and Tanner. After taking a moment to explain what that actually meant, he continued.

"I am kind of surprised to find this firepit here. Due to our little misadventure in the outskirts of Baltimare and their apparent speed, I expected we would be traveling parallel to them on the opposite tracks and meet up where they used to join. They ran alongside both faces of the mountain. Come to think of it, why would any of them be in such a hurry anyway, and why did they switch to this route? You told me they are going a very long way indeed. Why wear themselves down like this? They certainly do not have suits like ours. This worries me. There should have been no good reason for them to change plans." He frowned. Something did seem wrong about that.

All she knew is that they were going a tremendous distance, and anticipated them keeping to the shortest route. Instead, a couple wasteland ponies they'd encountered and convinced to talk with some gentle coaxing, and some of their fresh water, said they'd seen them and set out down this path. The ragged pair were taken aback that she insisted they take an extra bottle with them. Keeping up enough of a pace to still be ahead of where they were now was strange. They'd been going as flat out as they dared for a week, and only now did it seem they were catching up at all. Something about it seemed desperate or wrong. At least they appeared to finally be closing in on them.

If they did not catch up within another two weeks, they would run the risk of not having their assistance searching the next possible site that may hold a copy of the Almanac. Traveler still did not know what she would actually do if it were located. Should she even bother returning home? It felt like a different life and a lifetime ago even though it was really only a short while which passed.

"Down Range?" There was something she wanted to ask privately. He looked over to her curiously.

"What is it?" The timbre of his voice was nearly melodic as usual. She enjoyed hearing it.

There was something comforting in those saddened notes. She wished hard to hear it without the heaviness it carried. Tanner looked on as usual. He'd set down his own unwieldy pack. It looked to be stuffed to overflowing with who knows what. That thing must be heavy. She'd offered to haul it in her cart, but he declined, saying he would carry his own weight. It was probably just as well, the cart saw better days long ago. It would require some sort of repairs sooner or later. She was not certain they could even make them. It was holding up surprisingly well, but the condition was definitely deteriorating. They would all hate to lose the cart.

It was not only useful, but her only other tenuous connection to home aside from the powerful machine she'd inherited. A machine Down Range still insisted could be dangerous in some unspecified manner, though he seemed more relaxed around it by now. She could not bring herself to believe that. If Moonlight was really so dangerous, why wouldn't he tell her what could be so wrong with it? So far it proved extremely reliable and saved her life at least twice already. In some way just its presence nearby made her feel better, more secure in unfamiliar environs. In some way she found herself considering it a friend.

"I Know you said you think finding the book is a good idea. It's just... I..I don't know if I really want to go home. I saw my parents die there. I watched my dad get killed and I couldn't do anything." She huffed. It was clearly very hard for her to speak about this.

"Hey, take it easy. From what you told me you did do something, something very brave. You stayed alive, and you've kept trying like they would have wanted you to." He smiled at her reassuringly. Hearing this was very comforting. Her heart still fluttered sometimes when he looked at her. What was she thinking?

"Stop that." she whispered to herself.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Uh, nothing. Thanks. I suppose I really should go home after everything is said and done. I don't exactly have anywhere else to live anyway. Will you go with me?" Traveler didn't mean to, it just slipped out. She sighed and took her nightly ration of water. She'd tried to strike a strict balance with Down Range of consuming it at a pace that would last for the most possible time. It still would certainly not last the entire trip if the next location did not pan out.

They might be chasing nothing more than the notion of a shadow of a dream, but it could be worthwhile. If the book could be found in good condition, it would help at least partially fulfill the dying wish of her father. They were really only just setting out on this journey despite the distance covered already. He remained silent about that question. Maybe he didn't catch it? He went over towards Tanner.

"I will take first watch tonight. You know how we do things now, Tanner. You get the next. I still can't say I understand why you're willing to travel with us so far, but I'm not complaining about having another set of eyes. I do hope that rickety looking .44 of yours is at least functional. We will soon be walking beyond any territory the base griffons have any information about at all, aside from this just about useless map." He hovered the scrunched up map back into the armor storage container on the side. The kit resembled the shape of a saddle-pack more for aesthetics than usefulness. A familiar looking piece of an entirely alien looking thing.

"I don't like it. Things have been too quiet since we left Baltimare proper. I'm not complaining about having an easy time of it, but something about this strikes me as very odd. The group we should have met up with a week ago is moving at a tremendous pace for some reason, almost as if they are trying to catch somepony or get away from them, but we've seen no evidence of either. Very puzzling." Down Range frowned before refitting his helmet on his head. He had to put it on slowly to get it down correctly over his horn.

He'd explained that the heaviest power armor built during the war was intended for use by earth ponies only, and that they were almost not built at all due to bad blood between some factions that worked on creating the originals. When the finished prototype was finally revealed it was so impressive that a great deal more resources were poured into them. His suit was specially crafted just for him by his own secret order. It was special. He left that part out. His suit was indeed special, one of only two or perhaps three intended for unicorns to wear. Unicorns mostly tried to avoid up close brawls and fighting. As the war progressed that proved a reliable and outright necessary tactic. He glanced towards Tanner.

He seemed and acted friendly enough. Definitely no threat to either of them, but remained strangely silent so far about why he'd followed. Their first meeting was quite a shock to Traveler, and proved something amiss with their suits which both missed picking him up for some reason. It was not a good feeling knowing something may be wrong with both of them. Otherwise they were as solid as always. Once was a fluke, twice certainly gave the feeling there was a potentially serious problem. Both were as advanced as anything produced during the war. Each did have some specific flaws inherent to their designs, but nothing that felt like it might inadvertently endanger either of their lives.

It was puzzling how they did not detect him. Ever since he'd shown up as one of the friendly blue indicators. They'd kept careful watch since, but it remained the entire time. Perhaps it was just some unexplainable anomaly. This made several unexpected things encountered on their journey so far. The first was an earthquake that almost wound up being the death of Traveler. It was a strange occurrence. Almost unheard of. That was odd in itself. The second was something they simply could not explain. Down Range didn't think Tanner was dangerous, but his presence was a little unusual. It was about time to get a clear answer from this fellow.

He did know Tanner was interested in him from the start for whatever reason. The little group took to rotating watches each night. All got an equal amount of time to rest. The difference each night helped ensure none of this unlikely trio would become too accustomed to a routine or complacent about the fact they were in potentially hazardous territory. Nothing life threatening was encountered since before the stopover in the ancient city. It proved to be a a near-total bust and little was gained for their efforts. Since then they'd simply been endlessly trudging forward. Traveler still found this so much more pleasant than when she was all alone and desperately seeking help.

By some instance of sheer luck she'd found herself setting out again with a pony whose age was difficult to comprehend. Tanner offered little explanation why he'd come so far after them. He did seem to have quite an interest in a pony from the distant past. A past so long out of memory little of it was recalled except a horrible war that leveled nearly everything at its end. Such an ending could hardly be forgotten, leaving the world so still as it did. So lifeless. What constituted life now might hardly be called such. It was mere existence with nothing to look forward to, except perhaps a bad end somewhere out in the dead of the wastes amidst deathly silence.

Nothing could be claimed to be solid or enduring. Down Range barely spoke of the past. When he did it was usually of some memory or some fact they were not aware of, it was never really happy. Traveler truly wanted him to be happy, as impossible a thing as that seemed. If any pony deserved happiness it must be him, she thought. He'd lost so much more she could barely conceive of what it meant. His family, his friends, his world. A bright and thriving world which reached heights she would never know and could only distantly dream of. Everything he ever knew from a world filled with happiness and light, until it took such a sudden and drastic turn for the worse there was no stopping it.

She was certainly interested in seeing more of a city than the brief glimpses she'd got, and wanted to return to one at least once with him when time was not so pressing a matter. At least with companions, it didn't feel as lonely out here. The feeling never really left. There was little life or movement in the world. When there was it was more often dangerous than not. They were gaining some ground on the other group. It could still be as many as five days before catching up. It would be close if they really wanted their help. If failing to join up where the ancient rail connection once met there would be no choice but to go it alone and hope they didn't run into anything too difficult to deal with without their support.

"Alright Tanner, You've been with us ever since we left the city and still haven't told us why you really want to come along." Magnificent insisted Tanner also call him Down Range. Perhaps the past simply hurt too much still, or maybe it was something else. He'd endured a sort of pain no pony, or indeed anything that has feelings for another should ever have had to. Losing a whole world must hurt so unbearably badly.

"We may be going a very long distance. Hundreds and hundreds, even more miles perhaps. From what little the griffons could tell us we might be in for a very rough ride along the way. Before you go to sleep, I want you to understand that first and foremost I am here to protect her, and if it comes down to it I expect you to do the same with your life if you insist on following." He looked over to Traveler and back to Tanner. In the dim firelight he didn't seem to notice her eyes were not really closed yet as she slightly coyly looked away, or her slight blush either.

"It's nothing personal, but if you get in trouble you may find yourself on your own out here. Do you understand?" It was clear he was not trying to sound mean, only truthful.

"I understand. I can take care of myself in a jam. Anypony that can't doesn't tend to live too long, in case you hadn't noticed." Was he being snarky? It was difficult to tell. He seemed like a strangely happy and upbeat sort, most of the time. How he stayed this way was hard to understand. He did obviously harbor some deep respect towards Down Range for some still undisclosed reason.

"Okay, Tanner. Now that we've got that out of the way. If we are going to be together for possibly such a very long time, may I suggest we get to know each other a little better? We can both start by being brutally honest with each other about things. So why, are, you insisting on tagging along with us?" He stood there in his brilliant gleaming armor awaiting this new companions response. Tanner sort of shuffled around nervously a little before opening a flap on one side of his strange makeshift pack. There were many such pockets on it. How could he possibly remember what was in each? Yet he always seemed to pull out whatever it was he was after with unerring accuracy. It was a bit of a marvel.

From within the pocket he produced one of the ancient comics he'd scraped together. It must have taken him years to find just a few intact. The cover of this one displayed a sketched likeness of Magnificent, shouldering some terribly heavy weapon, looking stoic as he stared down some unseen horror lurking just out of frame. It was clearly drawn by a truly talented, if demented pony artist of old. The title read 'This weeks exciting adventure: The Left Hoof of Darkness.' On the very bottom left at an angle was a little strip saying 'Free Maregan oil sample. Tips on keeping your mane looking its best while adventuring in back!'

"What the?.." Down Range went to ask as Tanner flipped to a specific page within. He held up a page within for him to see, containing some dialogue near the end of whatever grand adventure happened inside of the worn pages.

"Magnificent, the day is won thanks to you!" A bunch of ponies of various builds and colors were all standing about cheering, smiling and altogether looking far too happy. Almost disturbingly so. Magnificent was holding up a hoof for them to quiet down.

"Neigh, good ponies. I could never have done it alone. Without my friends I would have stood no chance against that bizarre menace to decency. My dear friends are what truly made the difference here. Remember kids, true friendship is the real magic." Down Range stared at it for a long moment, unmoving. Tanner looked down tensely before closing the comic and slipping it back into its pocket.

"Tanner. I'm not him, that version of me is just something that was made up to cater to my own ego..I never even saw those anyway...I'm not him.." His voice seemed to waver a little bit, but it was hard to tell through the suit amp.

"I know, and yet you are. Whether you believe it or not, the way you speak and carry yourself is uncanny. They really got you right. The you in these is a hero to me, and the reason I'm still alive." Tanner spoke quietly. Down Range tilted his head a little to one side curiously. What was Tanner getting at? What did this have to do with wanting to come along? If anything, some of the panels in the comic made it look like being anywhere near him was an extremely dangerous proposition. Tanner seemed to be, crying? Crying a lot as he looked up.

"I want to come with you because... because.." He seemed to be stammering a little. Was he okay?

"My entire family is dead. First my brother, then mom and dad. At least they taught me to read before... They all died a really long time ago, and I never had any friends. No one does, not really. Not here, not now. When they died I was left all alone with nothing. Nothing..all by myself. No one was around to help. No one ever helps anyway. I was dying, thirsty and starving when I found this. I read it because I was just a colt, and I was going to die anyway." His tears were streaming heavily as he went on. Traveler was listening to all this with her eyes closed, but neither of them would notice right now. Down Range was completely silent.

"On an earlier page you speak to those around you to, tell them go on trying no matter what is in front. No matter how much it hurts. That just giving up is pointless. Try, and keep trying no matter what you face. Pain has no meaning if you just quit over some hardship." Tanner gulped before going on. This was very obviously cathartic for him.

"It did hurt so much, but I took that advice and kept going. The very next morning I finally found some food and water. You saved my life. I want to go with you because I owe it to you. I also..want to know what it's like to have friends. Will you have me?" He sobbed a bit before quieting down. It was a quiet and touching moment as he sniffled.

"Tanner, you don't owe me a thing. I didn't save you. You saved yourself, and obviously learned how to stay alive since. You're a strong fellow. You are welcome to tag along if you want, but you should be careful who you choose as heroes..my friends tend to die." With that the pony once known as Magnificent slowly turned and began his patrol around the area.

"I don't care. You are something new here. Maybe it will turn out to be something big, maybe it won't. You're still my hero." Tanner whispered to himself, wiping his eyes. As was becoming usual the night seemed quiet and uneventful. For a change, Tanner fell asleep quickly. Traveler did not know what to think of this. He'd lost his family as well?

That meant all three of them knew a similar pain. She'd noticed during the brief time they'd been together that Tanner did not seem to get to sleep very easily. Now, it made sense. Why did he say nothing until now? Was it just hard for him to think of as well? Should she say something about it, now that she knew? Tanner did not yet know she'd lost her family in such a gruesome way. She hadn't felt like talking about it. What happened to his? For the moment she dare not ask. He was, perhaps, a kindred spirit who suffered in much the same way she was now. Worse, he'd lost a brother in addition. Was everyone still clinging to life in this world destined only to suffering and misery? Her thoughts were troubled this night.

Eventually, she drifted off to an uneasy sleep. Some hours later it was with great shock she was awoken to find Down Range tapping her gently with an armored hoof. Her eyes popped open.

"Traveler, shh. Quickly, slip into your armor and prepare for battle." His tone was dire. What!? He furtively looked around. Something was very wrong.

"Hurry now. Somehow we have been surrounded. Just remain calm and get ready." He turned and stood guard as she she got into her suit. As the dials and gauges popped into her vision they confirmed he was correct.

No less than a dozen threat signatures entirely ringing them. What was happening here? This could be bad. Now feeling a little more protected she asked if he knew what they were.

"I do not know. They seemed to come out of nowhere. Might be why Tasket's group is moving so fast. Spread out a little and stand back to back so we can see in all directions." He'd already informed Tanner who was facing the other way with his .44 off safety. Something felt really wrong here. What were they? Some strange fear felt like it was creeping over her. Traveler panted and nervously looked side to side.

"Down Range, I..I don't like this." She was almost trembling as Tanner said almost exactly the same thing at the same time, then placed the bit-catch firmly in his muzzle, ready to fire. The presence of the heavily armed and armored pony was the only thing preventing Traveler from running off wildly.

"Traveler, listen to me. Whatever they might be, we are carrying tremendous firepower. I know you're scared, and that's perfectly fine. Do not let it overwhelm you. Think straight, and act. We are facing a problem. What do you want to do?" Hearing his voice was very reassuring. Think and act. Alright. Think, think.

Traveler engaged the suit speaker amp at a high level.

"Identify yourselves or we will fire." She spoke as calmly and deeply as she could. A response was awaited with baited breath. Nothing was forthcoming. The threat indicators continued to slowly circle at a distance. Down Range spoke once more.

"Looks like it's no good, Traveler. If any of them step within firing distance fire a single warning shot first. We don't want to engage in a fight if we don't have to. Pointless battles are nothing but a waste of ammo and effort." His words sounded reasonable.

If she'd been facing something like this alone she would likely have run off already only to get killed. Was she really such a scared filly? So much for being grown up. This was embarrassing feeling and not a good thought. What could they be? Why were they doing this? More importantly, this was the third time his armor did not pick something up on approach. Could there be a problem with their suits? Better worry about that later. Time crawled. Whatever it was certainly seemed threatening. Having given warning they still did not respond. The passing minutes dragged on interminably. What did they want? How long was it? Only five minutes passed so far.

The dim and dull light of what she knew as dawn was still two hours off. Ten minutes. Twenty. What were they waiting for? This was frightening beyond compare. Though her suits night vision provided a fair view, it was still not that great at this distance. Some images were fuzzy or grainy and difficult to identify in the green tinge it gave to everything. Suddenly a shot rang out making her jump. It was Tanner firing past something which stepped closer. One warning shot. At least he'd listened. Was he shaking? The figure was nearly impossible to make out and immediately darted back. It looked twisted. Like some distorted nightmarish thing just outside their field of view. Don't panic. Don't run.

Traveler kept telling herself she was safe here with her two companions. It was barely enough. that creeping fear taking hold of her heart refused to let up or let go. Half an hour. An hour. Why won't they go away? Go away! She was trembling heavily now too. Occasionally they found themselves having to fire off another warning shot. Every time her nerves were rattled so horribly. Was she honestly so scared? Surely she was braver than this. This seemed unnatural. Muttering to herself, she was just hanging on against this incredible fear. She took an unsteady step out of nervousness, prompting Down Range to speak in that soothing voice of his.

"Do not run." His tone was measured and so calm. How could he or Tanner stand this? How did he know she was so close to running? By now she was practically shaking visibly. By this time though, Tanner was obviously shivering as well. What was going on?

"Both of you, you must listen closely. They are using some kind of spell, I am certain. I couldn't tell at first, but I can sense it now. This is a trick. Neither of you are so easily scared as this. I do not know a counterspell to whatever it is. We just have to endure it for the moment. Hang on and we will be fine, I promise. They must be trying to separate us, do not let them." He positioned himself a little differently. Down Range chambered something in one of his launchers.

This horrible increasing fear was some kind of trick? What a horrible thing to do to somepony. It felt so real.

"Tanner, I am going to fire a light flare into their midst. It is magically enhanced and will be terribly bright. I hope to blind them. Shield your eyes." He did as he was told and held a hoof up to his face, closing his eyes tightly. The launcher crackled as it launched the magnified flare. As it landed in the middle of the closest threats a terrific glare lit up the area. It was the brightest, shiniest thing Traveler could ever have imagined seeing. The stealth suits automatic systems instantly darkened the visor to protect her eyes. Even with the suit responding that way it almost hurt.

In the distance the shadowy figures almost seemed to be screaming. It appeared to her like they were simply melting out of view. What in the world? The other figures continued to circle like nothing happened. The flare slowly died down. Another half hour, and another. This was wearing on all three of them. What was driving these things? Did they want something? It was maddening. Since the magic flare landed the figures hadn't taken a single step closer. Ever circling. Finally, the sky began the slight transition towards what might be called daytime. As it did, the figures simply retreated into nothingness. The threat indicators faded and they all gave a sigh of relief. Two full hours passed during this odd encounter.

The incredibly and almost debilitating fear faded like it was never there to begin with. Traveler was glad they couldn't see her face right now. Tears forced their way out despite herself. Tanner was beginning to tremble less.

"What were they!? I feel like I've been through the worst fight of my life and we never even got into it. What happened? I can hardly breathe I'm shaking so much." He looked totally whipped. Did it take as much for him to hold his ground as it did her? When she finally felt better she slipped out of Moonlight and much to the surprise of Tanner gave him a warm hug. He eventually stopped shivering as she held him close.

"I..thanks." Was all he said in response. She let go and turned to Down Range. He was the only reason they managed not to do something stupid. If he hadn't been with them, things would have turned out much differently.

"Thank you so much. You saved us. I couldn't..I would have ran. I'm sorry..I would have ran away." She was stammering as he took off his helmet and looked at her intensely. It was only obvious now that he was just as worn from the experience. It was not what she was expecting to see. He was in the same condition?

"Relax. Relax. You both did just fine. I suggest we just rest a bit and move on. We should try to put as much distance between us and here as possible." That lovely voice of his. It might just be her imagination, but was he trembling too? It was difficult to tell. Was he saying that to himself as well? He always seemed so strong to her. To see even him spooked was unnerving in the worst possible way. She might just be imagining things though. He'd already been through so much, it seemed impossible he could be easily frightened. After a much-needed rest they set off once more on their long journey. Was this sort of thing a normal happening around here? The whole experience felt entirely unnatural, almost ghostly.

What could those things have been? None of them were caught in sight of the light. Hopefully they would not run across them again.

"Say guys, was it just me or did those things seem to avoid your suit lamp, and like..melt when you fired that flare off?" She asked. To Traveler it did look like they simply evaporated into thin air when the light struck them, leaving some hideous momentary fragmented image in the wake of the light. An entirely unwanted sort of sight.

"It did look that way to me, but I could hardly see." Tanner took to walking in between them.

The strange things clearly left him nervous and feeling vulnerable. She felt pretty bad for him. He'd come with them hoping for a positive experience and one of the first things that happened could easily have resulted in his death. He looked very forlorn. Down Range walked slowly behind, deciding to say something.

"Tanner, wait.. Don't come with us just because you feel like you owe it to me. Come with us because you want to try and make the world a better place for yourself and everypony else. If you truly feel that in your heart, then, and only then should you continue on with us. Think hard about it. I refuse to get another pony killed without a good reason." He said in a friendly way and gave Tanner his space.

For a while they all continued their weary trudging in silence. What happened was so unpleasant. Tanner was obviously conflicted about this idea now. Some miles passed in this fashion before he finally said something once more. He'd been thinking about it in silence for hours. Once or twice it seemed he might simply turn and leave. This must be extremely difficult for him. Looking between them he stopped and they did the same.

"Look, I have only been truly scared once in my whole life. When I was first left alone with nopony else at all. The first time I was ever truly alone. When there was no one else I got so scared. That comic I showed you, those words that saved me. I read those words every day for a month, and very often after. It was all I had. Yes, I feel like I owe you for what little good feeling I've ever felt in life, but you're right. I have made my decision. I do want to come with you, for the right reasons. Whatever it may bring. If we can do something, anything to make this world better, happier, I will do it. Even if it costs my life." He sounded and looked better, more confident. He was almost in tears again.

"I'll hold you to that, friend. We both will." Down Range assured. Tanner smiled at being called their friend. Traveler knew too well what it was like having never really had any herself. She decided that sooner or later she would tell him all about herself and what she'd gone through. Maybe knowing she understood his pain would be a good idea. She felt pretty bad he'd endured such a harsh life all by himself even though her own was pained. Were these two really her friends? It was difficult to believe she really did have some now, after being alone so long. Being tired out from the previous night meant their pace wavered over the duration of this day.

They did seem to be having a more relaxed time speaking to each other about things. Traveler was still afraid to say the wrong thing, or perhaps hurt either of their feelings inadvertently. Having really just gotten to know both of them she did not want to drive either of them away, still holding so little experience dealing with others. It was not as rattling as it was at first. It still bugged her. These two strong stallions were potentially putting themselves in harms way, just for her and what might be nothing more than a daring gamble for something better. It was a bit much to accept. Tanner may be doing it more for other reasons, but now he'd made the promise. It was flattering and a bit disconcerting.

She couldn't quite figure out her own feelings towards Mag..Down Range. She almost forgot sometimes he did not want to be named such in front of others, at least for the moment. It was a bit of an odd thing to want. Why did he care so much about that? She found him so handsome and alluring, but it might just be because he was her first companion. Somepony she latched onto because he was there and willing to go with her. In truth she'd only known either of them a very short time. How they would react in different situations was not something she could yet truly gauge. What if neither turned out to be who she thought they were?

Sighing to herself she just figured on being cautious until there was a little more certainty. Traveler didn't think either of them was lying or anything like that. She just knew so little and the lack of experience was not helping. It was a truly frightening and disturbing thought to imagine winding up on her own again. Would her father have trusted either of these two? What if one or both of them died? What if she found herself with no one again? What if.. she shook her head vigorously. Better not to think about things like that. The familiar positional pings of her two companions upon her display was becoming a comforting sight to her. They were always there.

It felt good knowing they were always right behind, ready to back her up. This trip into the unknown could be turning out to have serious consequences for all of them. She knew she had to accept this was a fact, it was difficult. Any of them, including herself could very well die out here and none would really care to know what happened to those three mysterious ponies that passed by one time. Caring for yourself first was just the order of the day. Was how the world found itself now really any particular ponies fault? Traveler found herself wanting to ask Down Range so many more questions than she already did, but continually held it back. It was rather frustrating.

She wanted to ask about so many things, but he just always seemed so sad about almost anything from his time. Maybe she could talk to him about that instead? Perhaps ask if there was anything she could do to truly ease his suffering. This last experience left her feeling more frightened than ever before. Even facing off against that monster some time ago was nothing like that was. It was a fake fear forced upon them, but it engendered in her an understanding of how much fear could drive her own actions. She didn't like how weak it made her feel or know what to do about that feeling inside. Another bitter experience to temper her decisions. Did they actually kill some of those things back there? It was difficult to know. It was too dark, and then too bright. When the sky lightened up the things all seemed to simply be gone.

They'd just danced around them the entire time. What did they want? Would they be back? Was holding them at bay really the only thing they could have done? This was not a thing to like either. Something far ahead glinted dully. What could it be? The terrain in the area was slightly hilly, and in places they might be following the old tracks or not. There were quite a few dead trees blocking sight ahead. The mountain to the north loomed like some distant sleeping giant of yore as they passed beneath its nearly nonexistent shadow. Did that also look more beautiful and majestic in times past? Would it ever again? She announced to her companions about the soft gleam off in the distance.

They could not make it out from this far away.

"I don't know about you two, but I don't feel like any more surprises right now. Should we try to avoid it and head south some?" Tanner looked less nervous than earlier. More confident than before, but that would be easy to do considering what happened.

"I wouldn't, and I know this might be a risk, but going around would be a real pain. Just look how thick the trees are surrounding us here. We would be slogging through them for hours just to make a little headway. Let me take the lead. You two stay well behind me, just in case." He sounded so commanding and confident. Traveler supposed that made sense.

Down Range did know this area better than them so it made sense for him to go ahead when things looked questionable like this. As quietly as possible they approached the slight glinting. From afar it was impossible to identify. As they got closer the armor display tagged four living creatures. One listed as hostile. How did it know this stuff anyway? They could not really go around them anyway. Nearing, they kept themselves hidden from view as much as could be done. They could just make out a large and strangely gaunt pony. His coat was a multitude of grey as dull as could be imagined.

Attached to him were eight heavy chains as he walked forth, dragging a griffon and two ponies in small wheeled cages, almost too small for their captives. Weapons were strapped to the tops out of their reach. Also being dragged along was a strangely tall and large rotting looking crate on weird looking wheels with a little slot at eye level in back. There were many other smaller, thinner chains trailing from him as well, attached to other smaller wheeled boxlike things. Could that be the group they were trying to find? Why would they be prisoners? If this was them, then who was it that got spotted going along the other tracks matching the same descriptions?

"Down Range, is that?..." Traveler went to ask but he held up a hoof.

"Yes, I know. They match the description. We have to get them out of there. I know you two might not be ready for another fight yet, but we can't lose them. Alright?" He looked at her for a moment. She knew what his expression must be under there, concern.

"I'm..I'm okay, really. Let's just do what we need to do. They need our help. We try to do everything peacefully first, right? Tanner?" She took a deep breath. He and Tanner nodded in unison as she looked between them.

They ditched the cart and Tanner's pack well out of sight for the moment. Moonlight marked their location. How did it know to do this stuff? They didn't even have to tell it to do so.

"Alright, here's the plan. Traveler, you and Tanner take position off to the sides. Tanner, up that slope. You, down over that way. Try to stay out of sight while I see if I can find out what's happening here and get them free. If things go really wrong, give me covering fire so I can take them out. Do not risk your lives, and don't fire towards the prisoners whatever you do. We need allies, not enemies. Go, quickly now." Down Range walked straight on along what was presumably a part of the old tracks.

They were either not visible, buried or totally destroyed here. He would certainly be seen by anypony ahead quite rapidly if they so much as looked back. Traveler and Tanner quickly moved themselves where they'd been told. They both quickly snuck off to the positions they'd been given. Nothing lately felt quite right to Traveler. Neither did this. Was it just her nerves or something more? She did still have trouble admitting to herself she was truly scared out here. It was not an easy thing to come to grips with. Her introduction to the wider world of the wastes beyond the old farm was a hasty and harsh one. Perhaps more harsh than some. Down Range trotted confidently forward towards the strange pony ahead.

He must be so very strong to pull so much along behind him. Was that really the group they were looking for being held prisoner, what for, and where could he be taking them? After giving them a moment to get into place Down Range called out.

"Pony ahead, please halt. I wish to speak with you." He stopped where he was at, definitely within his firing distance. The large pony stopped walking as his ears pricked up and swiveled as if considering this. It reached a hoof up towards the chains connecting it to the trailing wheeled cages then put its hoof back down with hard thump.

Did she actually hear that at this distance? That couldn't be, could it? A mare in one of the cages started yelling. "Help us! He's a monster!" A monster? What was she yelling? At this instant a terrible deep voice sounded off but it was strangely high in pitch at the same time. It made Traveler feel queasy just to hear it dully in the distance.

"Silence. I thought that Repulse secured that passage already. How did you get past the Fear Mongers!? AIEeeeE." It screeched horribly. It almost hurt. What could this be? Repulse? Passage? Fear Mongers? Was that what those things were earlier? This was already not going as hoped.

The strange pony stopped and then continued ranting as if nothing unusual just happened.

"No matter. Repulse shall end it all for you. Give them peace, Pommel Horse! Destroy this pathetic pawn and meet me at the rendezvous point." After saying this the gaunt pony began walking forward once more at a slow pace. From within the odd wheeled crate through the slot could be made out strange flickering blue bars in the shape of eyes. What did he say, Pawn? Repulse? Peace? Pommel Horse? What now? A booming response came from within. It sounded vaguely similar to her suits strange mechanical voice, but the similarities ended there. Her blood ran cold upon hearing its echoing tones.

The volume was so loud she could easily hear it from where she stood.

"ORDERS RECEIVED. OPERATION: CLEAR AREA. ELIMINATE ENEMY COMBATANT." Oh no. This was bad. She could just feel it. It was so deep and loud. A slow rhythmic rumble could be heard rising. What could it be? The large crate door fell open to reveal a large hulking metallic thing in a shape vaguely resembling a pony. It was twice as large as any of them. The bottom did not have legs but wide solid metal skirts all the way down to the ground as it rolled forward out of the ironclad box. A thick rust-covered heavy plate in front looked substantially strong.

Strange treads could be made out rolling just beneath. On one side was a large round protuberance along with a smaller one her suit systems were jumping between identifying. On the other was at least three guns of varying caliber in a stacked arrangement from the bottom, largest to smallest. Moonlight issued an urgent tactical warning advising against engaging this target. Down Range was already backing away and firing occasional shots. This was not what they expected to deal with at all. What should she do? This unexpected things eyes consisted of three shorter and longer bars which swiveled and turned independently of each other in odd offset counter-rotating circles.

The blue glowing color would almost be pretty if it hadn't just been ordered to kill her friend. It raised and lowered its head which then quickly swung towards Down Range as it turned. She'd been told about robots, but this thing was huge. What was it doing here? How could he be in control of it? Down Range said the battle robots being fielded during the war were incredibly dangerous.

"PRIORITY: HEAVY ARMOR DETECTED. ENGAGING." It bellowed. This cannot be happening. As he was backing away Down Range let off a full burst from his automatic which did little but bounce off. The machine seemed to be glimmering.

What could that be? A strange glow was slowly forming inside the smaller ring on the odd heavy robot which coalesced and shot outward in a tight sweeping beam from left to right which he bent forward just in time to duck. It sparked off the back of his armor. Some kind of beam weapon, but still not identified by her suit. As it fired her suit tagged it as a Focused Maser Emitter. A what? The strange pony was already getting farther away with the group yelling for help. There was nothing they could do about that right now. Tanner and Traveler opened up on the thing at the same time. Their rounds would do little but distract it, but it was better than nothing.

It rapidly panned its head from side to side at them for a few seconds but immediately disregarded them and continued to fire at the pony it probably deemed to be the most threatening. Down Range sidestepped just as the seemingly crazed thing fired a large burst of dangerous explosive rounds to land behind a small pile of rock. It was nothing very much and would do little to deter this thing. He could not retreat and hope to get away. This thing had to be destroyed before it tore him to pieces. He radioed Traveler.

"Get back so I can use my launchers. Run, hurry!" He ordered. She motioned Tanner and they immediately withdrew.

The vile machine was pressing forward. Action must be taken now. Having only nine spell compaction casings left, Down Range did not want to risk using them too soon into their journey. Fortunately he did have numerous E.M.P. rounds. They could not inflict physical damage on their own, but might slow it down. When he thought her far enough away not to affect Moonlight he chambered a round and fired. A perfect hit to the central plate as the blast pulsed outward. The robot fritzed and turned about a little exposing one of its slightly less armored sides. Perfect time to fire an armor piercing round. He fired and the bullet connected, or so he thought. Something was wrong. It did not do any damage at all. How? It hit.

It must have. The robot was already recovering from the magnetic blast and reoriented itself towards him. There should be a gaping hole in its side. What happened? There was that soft glimmer around the machine again. He quickly stood and tried again. The E.M.P. worked as before, and again the piercing round hit it with no visible result. What was going on? From a distance Traveler could just make out what was happening. She quickly called him and told what she was seeing. The bullets were not even contacting with the robot but deflecting away before even hitting it for some reason.

"It has a kinetic deflection shield!?" Was his response. A what? She'd never heard the word before.

"Anything moving too fast towards it will just bounce away or explode before hitting it." He anticipated her question. How did he know what that was? This was crazy. It is too powerful. What could they possibly do now? Throw rocks at it? There must be some way of stopping this thing. There was no choice. Down Range stood up and aimed the spell compaction launcher straight at it. What was he doing? He was too close. No no no. He'd told her all about his weapons as they'd walked amongst the cracked buildings and ever more worn technology strewn about Baltimare. At one point afterward he'd gone exploring through the ruins on his own for a little while. He did not tell them why.

Over the rattle of heavy bullets ricocheting off his armor was just heard:

"Goodbye." Did he really say that? No! A terrific blue glow was forming in the large ring on the side of this vile robot. As it appeared, her suit finally identified it as a particle cannon. What was a particle cannon? That sounded bad. Down Range fired a spell compaction round of some sort that seemed to have what looked like lightning trailing behind it. Just as he fired the large blue orb launched forward from within the weird steel ring. As it was lobbed towards him they connected midway between.

A tremendous clash of energies burst outwards in every direction like streamers of lightning and engulfed them both. Tanner reached her position just as it happened. Nothing could be seen except smoke and dirt. A grinding noise brought their attention back to where the robot was. It was smoking and sparking in places, but it still clanked and ground as it moved about. Where was he? He seemed to be gone. He wasn't vaporized was he? The terrible and dangerous machine was still speaking.

"TARGET: DESTROYED. CRITICAL DAMAGE TO PRIMARY ACTUATORS. SECONDARY WEAPONS DISABLED. BATTLE PARAMETERS WITHIN TOLERANCE. CONTINUE SWEEP. SECONDARY TARGETS IN IMMEDIATE VICINITY." Target destroyed? It's impossible.

"Magnificent, no!" Traveler yelled as she went to run down. Tanner blocked her way.

"Stop. We have to get away from here right now." He said direly. She tried to go past him, but despite the suit he remained directly in her way.

"He's not dead. He's not!" She was panicking. Tanner dug in and pushed back against her suit with both hooves.

"He's not!" Traveler was crying yet again.

"Alright! I believe you, but we have to go, NOW!" He looked straight into her visor as he spoke. That was enough to snap her out of it. The damaged robot might still be a serious threat and not something she could likely deal with on her own. Any second now it could be coming for them. She did not have any experience dealing with real enemies, let alone some huge demented robot. Right now it did not have their current location fixed. It may be their only chance to escape.

They fled in an opposite direction through and behind dead stands of ancient trees. Fifteen minutes later they stopped running and after a few tense moments deemed it was not following them further. It must have determined the area to be clear and turned around to do whatever it would do. Traveler sat there in her armor, quivering and crying. Horror. So much.

"We left him! We just left him..He can't be gone. He can't." She was practically mewling and sobbing. Tanner was looking down at the ground. Both were incredibly distraught over this. It was horrible and impossible. Her first friend, dead? Gone already? It hurt so much. She barely just met him. It has to be another bad dream.

She might even have...It must be another bad dream. It has to be. Please, wake up. Tanner was walking in circles in the little grove they'd found themselves in amidst the old decayed logs and somehow still standing trees. Most were long dead. Mostly empty, lifeless things to echo their hearts. As he marched around Tanner suddenly cried out, knocking Traveler out of her misery.

"What. What is it?" She asked and slowly wandered over to where he stopped moving. She gasped audibly. There were three little pony skeletons in ancient tattered decaying clothes laying about.

These poor ponies must have been traveling when the war ended long ago. They looked almost jovial. One wore a broad-brimmed hat. At one time red, it was adorned with a single long feather probably once belonging to a pegasus, stripped by age. The second was wrapped in a once white cloak with a triangular red border. The third lay back against a tree in an ancient blue tunic and wearing a hat a scarecrow might, clearly dying as all three did. A rotted empty travel sack lay pinned nearby. This was not the sole cause of his outburst. There, covered in moss and rust was an odd mechanical looking thing. Unlike the robotic monster, this mostly bronze colored relic somehow evoked a sense of companionship.

They could not know that it bore the colors once worn by the elite royal guard. One of its sides showed exposed large gears and other internal assemblies. Were they trying to fix it? Attached to the head by rods was something resembling a helmet crest. Its face if it could express any kind of emotion looked sad for all the world. A dead machine to pay tribute to its fall. On the back was a large slot that something seemed intended to fit in which was not apparent.

"What is this thing? It looks like they were walking together. This feels sad somehow. They look like they must have been really young when they died." Traveler muttered. Just another sad thing in the world to lament.

An added sorrow to heap upon its torment and pain. This bitter scene nearly brought more tears to her eyes. Tanner just stared at them for a few moments. A lot more time passed than they thought. It was nearing that modest shift to the darkness of night. She'd been watching her suit tags, desperately hoping to see her companion pop up once more. He wasn't coming. He could be dead. Wiped from existence just like that. After a while the suit marked the area on her mission maps as 'Mechanical Grove'. What did that mean? How it knew to do these things she truly did not understand. At last Tanner spoke.

"We need to rest. I think camping here would be alright. It doesn't look like anything or anypony has disturbed this place in a very long time." He spoke forlornly. Rest? How could she rest now? At him saying it, the feeling hit of how tired she really was. Actually nearing exhaustion. The true mental strain of what happened hit her hard.

"We will need to be rested before continuing on." He said. Continuing on? After this?

"Tanner, we left him..." She went to say but he lifted a hoof to stop her.

"He told us not to risk our lives, remember? We tried to help him, and we failed. That's just how it is. Maybe you should consider turning back." This statement made her heart beat hard. It was painful. She'd taken on a quest, one she'd sworn to complete or die in the effort. What would her father say now? She found herself thinking a for a hard moment and could almost swear she heard him.

"You took a bad hit, so what sweetheart? That's not enough to stop you. I know you can take it. Surely you aren't really going to give up that easily?" He smiled and the image in her head was gone as quickly as it showed up. She blinked.

Keep going. It sounded good, but she felt so unsure about it now.

"Alright, dad." She whispered. Tanner flicked an ear. She just couldn't talk about it right now.

"What was that?" He questioned.

"Nothing. Alright. Take first watch, okay?" Traveler asked. He nodded. During their travels she'd finally figured out how the defense tags in her suit worked and what they were for. It could be set to inform of movement and react to threats of its own accord to varying degrees, but only in a wide arc of one direction.

She'd marked Tanner as an ally so it would not harm him. Far from perfect, setting it to defend them made her feel much more secure. Drifting to sleep was not very easy. This fresh pain hurt so deeply. Was he really gone? She'd never had a friend to lose before. Could he really be here and no more with not so much as a trace he ever existed? She quietly cried herself into a strangely dreamless slumber under the watchful gaze of Moonlight. A darkness in which she could only feel that pained sadness in her heart. This feeling remained until gently woken for her watch. At least some rest helped. Tanner looked totally exhausted by now. She was glad to take over. Traveler examined the strange pony machine to amuse herself.

It looked so different from the horrid battle machine they'd faced. It held an entirely different tone. An almost wistful device from a time long ago, when the world was happy and hopeful. Was there a future to be had, or would it all end like this hunk of rusted metal? Quietly and alone? For ages this sad halted machine watched over its dead charges in solitude. Did it watch them die, unable to help? Was it supposed to protect them? Did it think? Was it capable of having regrets as they were now? Did it feel the same in losing its companions? Surely not. It was a machine as much as Moonlight was. Still, somehow it almost had that same feeling to it she associated with her armor. It felt, friendly.

Not at all like the terrible war machine just escaped from. Why did ponies ever build those awful things? They were so smart. Were they really that desperate to win a fight? Why did it come to make the whole world a miserable shell of a place like this? It was wrong of them, and whoever they fought. Why did they do this? Everything lay a blasted wasting ruin. Nothing like the happy places she dreamed of. Somepony has to fix this, make it right. Somehow, but who could possibly make that happen? The world was so much bigger than she ever knew. Full of wonder and horror. The terrifying experience of the previous day left her dull and listless feeling. She did not want to think about it.

When morning approached she slipped out of her armor for the usual rote motions of some awful cereal and a sip of water to chase it down. It didn't matter at all. There was plenty of it left. Whatever was in it was at least nourishing and filling. A type of fullness she'd never actually known before getting it. Traveler decided against it. The water nor the food supplies would last the entire trip. Something to deal with as it came up. Both Tanner and Down Range offered her some of their other foodstuffs before to change it up, but she refused. Until her own ran out she would not burden them further by asking. They would need it all by the end certainly.

Now, she felt a dim sadness that she did not accept their offer to share such a meal together.

"Tanner, what have you got to eat?" He looked up at her question, startled from his thoughts. It was not a thing she'd asked before.

"Oh, uh. I have quite a few old ration packs actually. Some kind of hard candy I think, and a few pathetic vegetables left I managed to barter for from some old geezer that somehow manages to grow them, somewhere. Don't know how he's still alive honestly. Most ponies..don't live so long." These words of his were true.

An elderly pony in this world must have been incredibly lucky or terrifically talented in some way to survive into old age.

"Probably why nopony has offed him. Best not to get rid of whoever is useful." He continued. Was this really how the world worked? Be useful or get killed for no other reason than that? Traveler looked towards the ancient machine standing in the dead grove. Why was it so different? Did all good really flee this place? The pain inside was too much. Magnificent was gone. She'd come to know deep sadness and sorrow. So well, so fast.

That morning they both shared a meal together in quiet reflection. Something she should have done from the start. It felt nice. Far removed from loneliness and pain. No. This is not how it goes. The world should feel like this more often, not so unhappy. A short while after finishing she stood up suddenly.

"NO!" She yelled angrily, startling Tanner into almost tumbling over backwards as his eyes went wide at her and sat heavily.

"He is not dead, do you hear me!? He is NOT dead! He does not get to die that easily. No way, and neither do we. I won't let us! We will meet up with him somewhere down the road, and that's it!" Tanner gulped as she stared at him. Traveler realized she'd genuinely frightened him. That was very surprising. She felt weird and kind of bad at having done so. This pony was not easily spooked, but this unexpected blow clearly left him sad and shaken. More than he was admitting.

"I'm sorry about that. I won't give up on him or my goal so readily. Will you stick it out, Tanner? Really? Go all the way to the end, whatever awaits us? It might hurt. It might hurt a lot. It might get much worse than this. We might well both die, but will you?" She held out a hoof and helped him up. He'd been startled rather badly. He rubbed his back a little, having landed on his rump pretty hard. It took a long moment looking back at her before he gave his answer.

"I get you. I hear. This is to make things better, right? No one ever tries to make things better. They just tell you there's nothing we can do about it and give up. You aren't like that at all, are you? I will throw my life on the line for this. What else could be worth more?" He almost looked ready to cry again. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, flustering him a little.

"You are a good pony." Traveler said directly. He really did tear up at that and rubbed his eyes.

"No one's ever said that to me, not even..." He didn't finish that thought. Collecting himself they got ready to move out. It wasn't difficult to gather up what few utensils they carried. A few battered plates to eat off of and a pan to cook with if there was occasion. Weighing yourself down with other junk was useless unless you intended to try and sell it. Plates were easy enough to find. The world still contained lots of those. At least there was still plenty of water, for now. She took one last good look at this place. A hidden and peacefully serene place where light once shone.

A forgotten trio once trod upon this now dead soil. What were they doing here? Who were they? Did they deserve whatever painful end fell upon them so long ago? Yet, this place felt calm. Secluded and undisturbed since the war. That awful war she knew little of. From what she could get out of Magnificent it was truly horrible. There was no clue to what happened to these three. Were they part of it? If they were out here when whatever happened, happened.. She couldn't help but think about it. Were they friends, together at the end? If they were friends, at least they didn't die completely alone. Their silent mechanical guardian had kept vigil over their final resting place since time immemorial.

Were they at peace? Surely no spirit would linger here. She almost found herself crying once more at imagining these poor young ones finding their end way out here, with no one to help and nowhere left to go. Surely nopony that young could have deserved to find themselves facing their entire world ending and being left by themselves with nothing. They were just kids. Were they like her and Tanner? Forced to grow up suddenly and without any mercy dished out from a harsh reality? She hoped it ended quickly for them. Traveler fought back tears and turned away. Time to move on.

"Do you think that robot thing is still there?" She asked Tanner as they walked.

She was having great difficulty thinking of a plan to defeat it as yet.

"You tell me. You're the one with the armor. What I can tell you is I have never even seen anything like that before. It was..big." Was his reply. It was true enough, but neither her or the very dissimilar armor their missing companion wore quite seemed to be functioning properly of late. Perhaps it was just a fluke of bad luck they both missed something important lately. Hopefully.

"I think I have a plan. First we have to catch up with them. We should be okay for that. He seemed kind of slow." She'd been thinking a great long while as they walked back in the direction they'd fled the previous day. They spoke as they walked. It would be some time before they could catch up to them anyway, provided they kept going the same direction. Hopefully the weird pony ahead was keeping to the same path they were.

"I hope it includes some way of taking that thing out without getting us mowed down." Tanner did not sound too sure.

She wasn't all that sure herself, but the last thing they expected to face off with was some ancient war machine. It was incredibly powerful and carried weapons even Down Range never mentioned. He did manage to damage it before they got separated. That might help.

"We might not have to fight it at all. My suit has a special function I have only used once. When I was learning how to use it my dad told me about it. It can turn invisible for two minutes every hour, but it has a big problem." She explained. Tanner's expression was one of shock.

"You mean to tell me you could have done that at any time?" He almost sounded angry.

"What? No. No I could not." She did not want him to be mad, anything but that. Just hearing that, his expression lightened some.

"Not only does it not last very long, It leaves the suit sluggish, slow for a long time after. If I got caught during that it could leave me in serious trouble. It was meant to aid in avoiding enemies, not taking them on." He seemed satisfied with that explanation.

Her father did not know all that much about this suit either, but his explanation of that seemed reasonable to her at the time. She took it as truth.

"I guess you mean to sneak in when it's dark and free them then?" He asked. Tanner was quick to catch onto things even if he did seem a bit strange at times.

"Yeah, and get their weapons, too. My suit showed there were some on top of the cage and in one of those other crates. If we did wind up having to fight they would help a lot." She said, unable to stop thinking about what happened to Magnificent. He cannot be dead.

There was no way he could have went down that easily, was there? His armor was far heavier than hers. If all that could not protect him, then what use was her suit? He must be out there, somewhere. He had to be. Traveler shook her head. Bad thoughts were not going to help. What if she was wrong? If he was really gone? She took a deep breath. They were getting close to where it happened. The sight of the area where they battled the day before loomed into view. Her suit was not picking anything up at all. The overlays in her vision revealed nothing. There were scorch marks where the clashing energy weapons scoured the ground in a wide sweeping and jagged circle. It looked terrible.

Most who just happened to see this sort of destruction would surely turn tail the instant they came across it. There was a small mound of dirt probably flung up when the terrible energies careened into each other. It was devastating and left little hope that her friend could be alive. No, she would not believe that. There was nothing here to prove he was dead. That actually struck her as strange. Surely there must be something? Nothing around at all. No broken steel. No anything. It was weird. Nothing about this seemed quite right anyway. From what little both Tanner and Down Range knew of them, the group they were trying to meet up with would not have been taken prisoner very easily.

That robot probably had something to do with it, but why take them prisoner at all? Their goal was very far away, having nothing at all to do with any in-between. It was plainly odd. Where and how did the strange pony get hold of such a machine anyway? It was then Traveler realized happenstance could be a very fickle thing. The very suit she wore now was obtained through the results of apparently random unrelated events. With dread in her heart they hurried on past the area where it seemed Magnificent may have met his end. It looked bad. As they passed, she found herself thinking over the conversations he shared with her in the brief time they were together. He truly seemed like a good pony to her.

Weighted by an unbearable sadness, but nice. He didn't deserve to end this way, did he? They'd barely got started. She kept her thoughts to herself as they cautiously journeyed onwards. What were they about to face?

"He's not dead. He's not. He is tough and powerful. No way." Her thoughts meandered in the way they do when something has gone so terribly different than imagined. Was there anything she could have done? Did they do something wrong? Could she and Tanner have helped more? It would still likely be hours or perhaps another day before they caught up with their quary. Why did the weird pony do this, anyway? He didn't even ask why Magnificent stopped him.

Without so much as looking back he Just started barking things about ending and sent a crazy machine after him. It was so weird and somehow felt out of place. What was really out of place in the world now, though? Her father said there were many strange and dangerous things in it as a direct result of the great war. A war she knew from Magnificent to have started almost like a bad joke, only to become brutally savage as it progressed. She did not truly understand the implications of what a war was. Traveler had never been in one. The little she could glean from him made it sound truly horrific. Some ponies now might be dangerous, but entire cities worth of them, even more perhaps, fighting to the death?

In comparison, their little flight of fancy to obtain a book felt nearly inconsequential. It was something barely fathomable. She asked him how many ponies fought alongside each other. It was far more than she could ever have imagined. He'd seen a bright world she would never know brought to the brink and pushed over the edge into the abyss, watched his friends fall and die. What was the final price for that going to be? How much pain would be enough to pay for the past?

"Tanner, I have to admit I'm scared. Are you?" She looked back.

He was hanging back just far enough that if something did show up he should be safe. They'd retrieved the cart and his pack. Traveler removed herself from Moonlight. They both definitely needed a drink by now. It was good to take a moment.

"This time, you bet I am. That thing almost killed all of us once already." His words were blunt, but true.

"Well, Down Range did do some damage to it. It even said so." Upon considering this she found herself wondering just how much he'd actually hurt it. It was built to fight and destroy.

"I miss him already. He told me one of the reasons he fought was to prevent the world from becoming like..this." She swept a hoof, pointing across everything that lay in front and sighed. Tanner just grunted. They knew it well enough. Magnificent had only been thrown into the world as it was by sheer bad luck, left to realize every single pony and thing he'd ever known were gone for ages by the time he was awoken. Did anyone truly deserve such a fate? The world was nothing but a sad shell of its former glory according to him. Empty of anything that ever held meaning for him. That he would place his life in danger to protect her spoke to just how good he truly was.

"You are trying to make it better." Tanner hadn't spoke much during the day. Probably lost in the same thoughts of surprise and pain she was. Both still reeling from the shock. He seemed more resolute now. Determined as he was before. Even with help, was it at all possible to make it better? Few seemed to hold any hope. The battered countryside lay before them as they finally passed from beneath the looming mountainside to the north. The terrain would force them to turn that way for a while. A pony pulling something as the one they hunted did would have no choice but to do the same. They would not catch up with him today. Perhaps the next night.

For the weight he pulled he was fast enough, and must be terribly strong.

"We might as well just rest here. I doubt he would turn around or anything, and with those other things back there I don't think anypony will be coming from that direction either." She didn't say it aloud, but if anyone did try to come that way they would likely die for their effort. Just thinking of those things made them both nervous. A lot of distance lay between them now, but the idea they were back there was in itself a concerning prospect. It seemed safe enough here. What would tomorrow bring? Getting the three captives loose was important. What other dangers might that pony pose?

They both hoped to free them without another fight. She struggled against herself not to start crying again. It was a shock and too soon.

"Do not cry. He's fine. I know he is. If I start crying I'm never going to stop." Traveler thought to herself as Tanner wandered about, lost in his own thoughts. She rubbed her eyes.

"Say, do you think that gear pony thing back there might still work?" Just making conversation now. There was little else to do and she did not quite feel like sleeping yet.

"Oh gosh. I never even thought of that. I kind of hope not. All those old things seem horribly dangerous, don't they?" Tanner was just finishing looking around the area. It felt safe enough, but not a good place for a fire. Too exposed. They could not risk alerting the pony they were after to their continued presence. Traveler looked up at the forever darkened sky, and for just a moment let herself relax.

"What do you think stars look like?" She said. He tilted his head at her curious question.

"I think they look like a big bright ball. My dad..told me stories about them. The sun and the moon, the stars in the sky at night. They sound beautiful. I'd really like to see them, just once even." She dreamily said. He chuckled at her words.

"What's so funny?" She gazed at him with mild annoyance.

"Don't get your fur all ruffled now. I don't usually think about things like that. I think about where I'm going to get my next meal. Where I'm going to get water or caps to buy stuff with. There's been nothing else, for me or anypony else in a really long time. Maybe there never was anything else, and it's all just a big lie." He looked at the ground for a while.

A lie? What was he saying? He sat there for a long moment.

"What do you mean?" She was quite interested in this now. He rubbed behind his head in thought.

"They say the world used to be so good and all that, but what if that's not true? What if it's always been this way? I want to think maybe it was, but it's so hard. Almost my whole life I've been alone. I never tried to get close to anypony else, and I didn't want to. Then, you two showed up, like something out of a grand dream." His expression was hard to read. She wasn't sure what to say to this.

"I followed after Magnificent when I realized he'd left the camp on a whim. The off-chance that maybe he was the real thing, maybe it really was like that once. It was probably a really stupid thought. After I caught up with you, spent time around you both, heard what you were after.. I realized how lonely and empty my life has been. It's totally meaningless." He was on the edge of crying. They both seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Having left Moonlight sitting on guard, she moved close to Tanner and draped a hoof over his shoulder. It almost felt like he jolted. He looked up to see her smiling broadly towards him.

"Easy. You're telling me you aren't worth anything? Living isn't meaningless, silly. If you weren't alive I would be all alone right now, and scared half to death. I might even have done something stupid. Maybe..maybe that's why you lived, so you could save me, and so we could be friends with each other now." He looked almost shocked at her words as she smiled down at him.

"You..you really think so?" Was what he managed to say to this.

"Do you think it'd be safe to just leave Moonlight on guard tonight? We are both very tired, and I don't want to mess up again. I trust him." Traveler asked.

"Him?" He looked at her with a puzzled expression. She laughed a little at his question.

"It's just something my father said. It feels..friendly. Like it wants me to be safe. I know it's probably just silly, but that's how it feels." Traveler looked to where Moonlight sat. It really did make her feel safe. Yet it, too, was built to go to war. It was unlike the terrible robot at all.

"Your father? Sounds like he's a real strange pony, no offense." Tanner didn't know yet. Now might be as good a time as any.

"He's a pegasus." She stated just as a fact.

"What!? Your father is a pegasus? One of those crazies?" Tanner let his jaw just kind of drop open.

"He wasn't crazy." She continued. He stared for a moment at her words.

"Are you sure about that? Not to be rude, but I've only heard bad things about them." He did look concerned.

"Well, he's not really my father." She wasn't quite sure of his reaction just yet.

"He's not?" Tanner looked confused. She was actually kind of having fun with this.

"I was adopted, but my parents are gone now. They were both murdered in front of me." It just finally slipped out. He blinked a few times, and cautiously offer to pull her into a gentle hug which she accepted. They enjoyed each others warmth for a few moments.

"I'm sorry, about your parents I mean. What happened? Please, tell me?" It was difficult as she went about explaining the odd circumstances of her life, and the terrible end of her protectors. How much they cared. It was a long story, she told it all up until they'd met. She also told the sad story the pony from the distant past conveyed to her.

He sat there quietly as she spoke, taking it all in.

"So that's what he meant. Wow. Both you and Magnificent have been through some really weird and terrible stuff, Traveler. I can't imagine. I thought I had it bad. I mean, I knew he must have gone through something horrible, but everypony has, haven't they?" He trailed off. For Magnificent, it was probably worst of all. How could you lose more than everything and even everypony else? It was a lot to tell. Traveler felt a little closer to this pony now. He did take a risk for them. That must mean he is truly genuine, right? She thought to herself.

"What do you think that pony was rambling about? I couldn't make it all out, but he called Down Range a pawn or something and said some other odd stuff. That was pretty strange, right? You have any idea what he was talking about?" For now, she'd talked about herself long enough.

"Probably just another crazy pony. There's lots of them. What else could it be, anyway?" Tanner did look perplexed as he answered her question. It really was pretty strange. Why was that gaunt pony even saying such unusual things?

"My dad said you should stop and analyze what others do and say if you have the chance, but I don't think we got enough out of what he said to do that." Traveler was considering the upcoming encounter. They would certainly overtake him by the next night. She felt kind of cold thinking about it. She and Tanner both knew this was going to be very dangerous. It could easily result in one or both of them being killed in a matter of seconds if they made even the slightest mistake. Even more than before, she really did need to free the three captives. Without Magnificent she felt much more vulnerable. It felt like he'd been with her a long time, even if that was not the case.

"There is another problem. The weird pony won't see me, but neither will they. I will only have two minutes to get in, free them, have them grab their stuff and get out. We need some way to tell them I'll be there first." Traveler was puzzled by this one. How could they get a message to them to be ready without alerting their captor? There must be something they could do.

"Why don't you just do it twice?" Tanner said.

"What?" Twice? She did not like the sound of that.

"Two minutes every hour or so, right? Not very much. Just get in, tell them the plan and what to expect, and to be ready in an hour. Then get out of there quick." Tanner's idea was good. Why didn't she think of that?

"That's great!" She voiced her approval so enthusiastically he almost seemed to be turning redder.

"Let's hope so. It would be nice to avoid that weird guy." He was definitely right about that. The odd pony was clearly very dangerous. Not one she or Tanner wanted to tangle with directly if it could be avoided. On his orders something from the old world might possibly have killed her friend and sworn protector. No. Do not think such thoughts.

He's out there somewhere, maybe hurt. Her suit did not pick up any signal from him since. He must have been forced into retreating as they did. He must have. There was no other explanation in her mind. There could be none. The thought he was gone would not hold a place. To give into thinking he was truly dead.. No.

"I still do not really like this idea, but it works. I will be in danger twice, and I haven't used this more than once. I don't know how reliable it is, so I have something to give you." She pointed at her cart. Tanner tilted his head, curious as to what she could possibly have. She rummaged in the creaking cart, pulling out something round.

"Down Range said he wanted to make sure there was something I could use if he was not able to protect me. Something only to be used as a last resort." Her thoughts went back to the conversation. At the time it didn't seem like it would be something she would ever need, but here was something truly dangerous, maybe even more so than the maniacal robot.

"He said this is something called a resonance agitation grenade he got somepony to make, back during the war. Said somepony that loved music suggested it or something. He told me nothing could possibly stand up to it, no matter what. It is the only one he carried. I want you to hang onto it. All you do is pull the pin, throw it far, as close to the enemy as possible, and run. The distance it can hurt things up to is pretty massive. Don't use it unless there is no choice at all." She explained. Tanner was going wide-eyed at hearing how dangerous this fairly innocuous looking thing was.

"Is it..is it safe to be around this thing? I mean, if that went off right now.." He looked nervous as he spoke.

"He said it is alright, and will only go off after you pull out that round thing there. There is a four second delay before it starts." She pointed a hoof at the ring attached to this little ball of destruction. Traveler looked at it in contemplation. This tiny ball could cause so much damage it was incredible, unbelievable. Why did such things have to exist? There was nothing she could do about that. Things like this were made for a war long before her time, but perhaps she could try to make the future better. That was the whole point of this excursion after all, wasn't it? She did not start out on this trip just because she wanted something to do, did she? Thinking that might have been the case felt bad.

It would have been easy enough just to hang around back at the griffon base, or would it? She didn't know anything about how life really was back there. The Captain was probably only friendly because he owed her father, somehow. Just how far did that go? What could he even have done for them that was so valuable? She would have to find out sometime. If she survived this excursion into nowhere. How did anypony ever carve out any kind of living in places like these? Again Traveler found herself thinking about things much larger than herself. Glancing over at Moonlight gave a little solace. A gift from her father, but not what he truly wanted to give her.

He'd wanted to give her things like music boxes and pretty things, and..happiness in this dull and lifeless world. She found herself tearing up a little.

"You tried. You tried so hard, dad, mom. I'm sorry I didn't appreciate it." It was okay. She found herself thinking. They really did their best, and if they could go so far to try and give her a good life, she could try just as hard to do at least something they wanted to strive for. Even if it could never do what her father imagined, doing something to help life itself recover was a grand goal indeed.

Already almost four full months passed since she was forced to abandon her life at their little rundown farm. For the first few weeks she'd journeyed alone, in pain and torment over their deaths. Sad and empty. That took a toll, everything took a toll. Having just another pony to talk to, to be with, made it so much better. That another should have shown up, one who truly wanted to help was incredible luck indeed. It felt like losing Down Range was some kind of terrible payment for this relatively easy time they'd been having up to now. What would happen tomorrow, would they succeed, gain new friends? Get killed? The possibilities of the coming day, of what may be, were difficult to bear.

Being out here impressed upon her just how small of a pony she really was, how small they all were. Was life ever better, really? Now she was thinking like Tanner was before, and shook her head.

"I know I should be sleeping. I just feel so nervous." Traveler said, not really to Tanner, but just to say something.

"I feel the same way, but we really should try. I've taken a good look around. We should be safe here for now." She agreed with him. The true depth of fatigue upon her finally set in. They'd been going rather quickly to try and catch up with the strange pony. Finding no sign of Down Range weighed so heavily.

Would he be trying to follow and keep pace with the pony as well? She did not know what he would do on his own, separated like this. Just separated. He is not dead. Finally, sleep overtook them both as Moonlight sat there, as if in contemplation of the countryside. It's head occasionally panned slowly from side to side. It was not a robot per se, but it could act to defend it's occupant and itself to some degree. How it knew to do these things was beyond their knowledge. Traveler simply knew she felt safe within the tight confines of the suit, cared for. It was an odd feeling for it to evoke. Her father said the same of it.

It gave some feeling of quiet gentleness that just did not seem to fit with this thing built to help fight a war long since lost. She was glad it felt that way. It seemed more than just a simple machine, almost pleasant to be around. What made it feel this way, who could know? Something about the way it talked? The way it acted? How it seemed to know what might help its user feel a little better from time to time? These were probably just coincidences and quirks of design which just happened to work very well together. It was all Traveler could imagine of it. What else could it be? It did have several light weapons attached to it, but these were primarily for a short defense.

Its intended purpose was to sneak quietly, something which it excelled at, and hopefully would serve them well in the upcoming days. For all the wear and tear which was put upon it thus far, it looked almost new. A few scrapes and dings to be sure, but that only served to give the dark metal exterior some character. Occasionally Traveler found herself still having bad dreams, leaving images of her dead parents etched in her waking moments. Why wouldn't they stop? Sometimes they didn't even feel so bad, oddly. It was discouraging to keep seeing them, lying there. Sometimes she could swear she heard one or both of them whispering, calling for help. It was not all the time.

Why she would dream such a thing was not something within her understanding. Maybe it was just the brutal and violent end they met that kept her dreaming of it occasionally. Hopefully it would pass completely with time. More than a quarter year out in the dead wastes. So long wandering, already. Time felt to be moving so slowly before, now it almost felt too fast. So many things happened to her in this short span. Some good, some bad. At least she wasn't dead. This meant she was tough enough, right? She'd been thinking so much lately that her head almost hurt from it. Eventually they woke to face yet another day in the wastes. So desolate and empty. So lifeless. This was lush, green and great once?

Traveler could barely envision such a thing. The colors she knew most of her life were barren and dull. If she'd thought life hard before, the idea had been so wrong. Now she knew just how terrible and terrifying it could be, how painful and filled with sorrows, and regrets. How quickly things could go from bad to worse was astonishing to her. In a mere instant her life was turned completely upside down, and now she found herself out here pursuing a potentially deadly pony. It was not something she would ever have imagined in her wildest dreams before, but this was adventure, right? Sometimes she hoped to wake up, to find her mother and father standing there, saying she was just having a bad dream.

To tell her that everything would be alright. That was never going to happen. How she longed to feel their warm embrace once more. The both of them. It was not nearly as embarrassing feeling as she once thought it was. Not being able to have it, and never again made that so crystalline clear that it hurt. Thankfully this night she did not dream anything. It was a welcome relief. Once again she skipped breakfast, not wanting to ask Tanner for too much. That he shared with her the previous day was enough. Those boxes of cereal really did taste terrible, but the stuff in them was so filling it was nearly ridiculous. What could they possibly have packed into that stuff?

If anything it seemed to have that effect even more than those packets Tanner was carrying, and they really did keep one going. Was all food like this long ago? There were so many things she would like to ask, and might never get to. If Down Range was found she would insist he tell her more about things this time. It might hurt him, but she genuinely wanted to know what the world and life was like before it was half burned to the ground.

"Alright, time to get going." Traveler said as she went to get into her suit and promptly banged her head against it. The suit did not open. Huh? What was this?

"Uhh, Moonlight?" She tried the usual approach again. It remained tightly closed. Tanner looked on in puzzlement. She strode and looked around the suit. It still seemed to be working as usual as she tried tapping on it in various places.

"Hey, we need to go. Come on..open..up!" She tugged and prodded against it with her hooves, but it would not open.

"What is going on? We need to go. Open!" She struggled to get the suit to respond. Why was it doing this? She waved a hoof in front of the visor.

"Hello? It's me. Come on, we have to go now.." It did not respond to her words.

The machine stubbornly remained closed. Was something wrong with it?

"Please? I know we've been going an awful long way..I hope you're okay. I'm sorry if I did anything wrong." She said, almost feeling like crying. Why wouldn't it open? Why did she feel like that?

"You know you're talking to a big chunk of metal, right?" Tanner chimed in. Oh. Now she felt a little embarrassed. It really was just a machine.

"Well, it still needs to be taken care of, like anything else." She retorted.

He was kind of giggling at her efforts to open the suit as she fell backwards from pulling on it.

"Oof!" She landed on her back in front of the machine as she slipped while banging on it, looking up. Imagining it was laughing at her as it continued to pan its head side to side. That was impossible. Tanner laughed out loud.

"Oh, come on." Traveler laughed too. This was just too silly. The back entrance panels parted with a hissing whir. What?

"Really? All that, and now you open?" She dusted herself off, feeling rather silly. What was that about? She clambered in like she'd done so many times before.

"Very funny, Moonlight. Let's not do that again, okay?" What was she saying? It's not like it did it on purpose, right? It could be another odd thing she might never figure out. If it started doing this continually it could be a major problem. Nothing more went wrong as they steadily moved on, certain to find the pony ahead soon. Eventually the suit visuals tagged several living things ahead, one hostile. It must be them. How the suit seemed to know these things before she did herself was a real marvel. For several hours they trailed at a distance a pony with unassisted vision could not possibly catch sight of them. This would be the first time Traveler tried anything like this herself, where real lives were at stake.

It left her nervous and feeling very apprehensive. The pony ahead must be getting tired by now, surely? Hours passed and hours more. On into the very beginnings of night he kept moving. Didn't he ever get tired? Finally, he just stopped. It was impossible to see him. None of them got a good look at him in the earlier scuffle either, being in front of the strange carts left him obscured from view the entire time. Essentially they had yet to even really see what he looked like. An offside angled view from behind was not nearly enough to make out any features of his face or anything else aside from his gauntness. Nothing could be assumed aside from the fact he was tremendously strong.

It would be a good idea to avoid him entirely if at all possible. It was almost time to engage in this dangerous endeavor. She was glad Tanner could not see her almost trembling within the armor. It tagged the hideous robot from before as being within the crate once more. One thing she most definitely did not desire to do was try and outfight that thing. It already bested a pony far more powerful than her. They stopped at a safe distance.

"Tanner, I'm ready. Got that thing?" He grimaced at her question and held up the terribly dangerous concussive sound expansion grenade. Neither wished to test just how much damage it might actually inflict.

It sounded ridiculously dangerous to both. Would Down Range have used it if he'd known what was coming? It was difficult to tell.

"Alright, Traveler..you can do this." She said to herself and swallowed hard. In and out. Get to them, tell them what to expect and retreat for an hour. Easy.

"If anything goes wrong it will be pretty obvious I guess." She said to Tanner, very possibly about to face her death.
Ever so slowly she approached the spot where the odd pony was camped.

He obviously did not imagine anypony else would come across him here, or perhaps did not care at all if they did. It was a relatively open spot, leaving her only so far she could creep closer before having to engage the suits invisibility system.

"Moonlight, I am so scared. He said..that's normal. I should be. Oh, I hope the ponies that built you knew what they were doing." She steeled her nerves. It was time to turn it on. A timer settled into the corner of her vision. It would have to be quick and quiet. The leg joint was of particular concern.

If he heard a sound like that and saw nothing more than a slight glimmer.. Don't think about it, just do it. Like her father once said, act when you must and trust yourself. There were prisoners in need of saving. Closer, and closer. Not a lot of time. Slipping up beside the almost too small cage she was becoming more and more nervous. Quietly. Slowly. The timer ticking down already read a half minute gone. No matter how fast it seemed to go down she must be slow or risk alerting him to her presence. The captives did not look too good, and tired but were definitely alive and awake. Two ponies and a griffon. Tanner said he knew who all three were, but didn't really know them. Here we go.

She spoke, hoping she'd adjusted the suit amp speaker volume low enough.

"Listen." As she said it they startled. No no. The three were looking around, seeming terrified.

"Shh! Don't speak or he might hear you! I'm here to help. If you want out of there listen carefully, now. I don't have time for any questions so I'm only going to say this once. Get it right. Can you move and walk?" Traveler spoke authoritatively and they all nodded to the empty air. The three did look around in concern, trying to find the exact source of this disembodied voice. Down to one minute already. She must leave.

Rapidly as possible she explained the plan to them and retreated with only twenty seconds to spare before becoming visible and being slowed terribly. Out of sight just in time as it shimmered into view. Too close. She did not see exactly where the odd pony was, and no time to look. He must be asleep, hopefully. So far, so good.

"My heart." She could feel it. It was pounding heavily as she waited for the system to recharge. Was that really two minutes? It felt like it went by so fast, and yet every second an eternity. Having returned to Tanner she relayed they were ready. The next hour felt like it passed in a void. Empty and slow. She was so on edge during the entire time. Is it time yet?

Not yet. Now? Keep your wits about you. Was the suit ready to go again yet? Stop it. One hour.

"I do not like how this feels, and I don't feel so good either." She thought to herself. Almost feeling sick to her stomach. This was so much of a strain, and it was only going to get worse. The real test was getting the prisoners away from this guy safely. He'd already proven willing to kill without so much as a glance. If anything went wrong they could all die. If that happened she would never forgive herself, providing she survived either. Shaking her head, Traveler watched as the suit readiness indicator slowly rose back to normal. She motioned to Tanner it was time. Hopefully they were ready.

Traveler closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steel her nerves, almost shaking. While closed she got the oddest flicker of an image in her head of the strange pony, pointing at her as he was surrounded by a flickering ring of colorless flames. Getting closer to her, she was going to die, consumed in an unquenchable fire. Her eyes jolted open. What was that? Don't start thinking like that now. He's just some crazy pony. Stick to the plan. She got into position and enabled the system once more. This would make only the third time she'd ever engaged it. Like many things it was not something to be relied upon. Merely a tool to use. For this, it appeared to be working exactly as intended.

Approaching as quickly as she dared it was apparent the prisoners were ready. A quick escape would be much preferable to another fight. One she might not be able to win. Moonlight was a true marvel of the arcane and the mechanical combined, but it was still a machine. Prone to all that a machine might be affected by, if tougher by merit of design. Compared to the strangely named battle robot, it could hardly hold up. Why did he call it that anyway? Did it have some deeper meaning? It might mean nothing at all, he'd said some very strange things already. Quickly she pulled down the weapons strapped haphazardly to the tops of the cage, giving them to their rightful owners.

One of the ponies owned a particularly vicious looking sniper rifle, the other a pair of shotguns and pistols, and the griffon his own odd looking set of pistols each equipped with a sort of strangely squared barrel with slots running down the sides, her suit could not seem to identify them properly. She hoped this was not another problem with it. There were enough as it was. This was frightening, truly frightening.

"He said if you aren't scared when you do this stuff, then you're doing it wrong. Just keep going." She whispered to herself as she used her suit as leverage to pop off the locks on their cage. It made short work of them.

They made little clinking noises she winced at each time. Again she was already down by thirty seconds, they all must leave before it wore off. The mare with their group pointed to one of the other crates and motioned her to open it as well. Not much time. No time to argue. Traveler quickly popped it off and saw why. Some kind of unusual armor she quickly and quietly slipped under and into to carry off. That was different. She motioned to another crate for some reason. No time, Traveler shook her head and quietly admonished them to get moving. Time to go, now. As she went to turn and leave, that quick slight squeal from the damaged leg joint let out.

She stopped and felt her heart skip a beat as she looked around furtively. It wasn't that loud. Just enough. For a second it did not seem anything noticed it. The threat tag still showed the weird pony up in front of the crates and things it dragged, unmoving. She hadn't really noticed before but there were actually quite a few other small weird wheeled crates being pulled along attached to chains as well. What was in all of them? How could he be dragging all this behind him? His strength must be immense. Even her suit might struggle a bit to pull all of this. No time to wonder. As she went to leave, out of the corner of her assisted vision she saw a shadowy figure rise in front. Uh-oh. Oh no.

Traveler commanded the others to run towards her friend behind them and keep going no matter what. They readily complied. Something about how quickly they did as she bid. This is feeling weird and off. Traveler felt her blood run cold immediately. Something was wrong here. As wrong as if the world itself was somehow falling away beneath her hooves. He was moving, reaching up to unclasp the unwieldy steel harness and loop holding all those chains to him. The pony then laboriously turned as if some great vessel at sea. He knew. How did he know she was here? It should be impossible for him to know. Traveler could still run, but somehow she knew too.

In the tinted night vision of her visor, seeing that spiked mane, the blood-streaked barding. It was him. The pony that killed her parents stood before her. Why him? Why here? A horrible feeling of rage and anger she'd never known was rising in her heart. She was practically shaking, seething. He was right there, she could kill him right now and he might never see her. Something held her back. As foreign a feeling as any. At this moment moment Traveler truly wanted to kill this pony that tore her parents from her, and stole her whole life away. Instead, that mysterious something made her stare in rapt wild and wide-eyed wonder. A horrible, yet exciting feeling was sweeping through her. He must pay, he must.

Yet, that strange feeling holding her back let her notice something, a terrible thing that made her tremble instead of moving. He looked straight at where she stood, could he see her? No. It was not possible. In fact, he should not be able to see anything at all. Where his eyes should be were only uncovered wide empty sockets. She found herself panting, on the edge of straight panic at the sight. What happened? How did he know where he was going? She shook inside this suit meant to protect her, feeling as vulnerable as if wearing nothing at all. This was a true monster. She should leave. Move. Leave, now. Traveler could not. Some energy, some force was creeping around her even now. It held a terrible cold feel to it.

He howled with a terrible deep laughter like nothing she'd ever heard before.

"You, filly. Stupid, stupid filly. I know you are there. You did this to me! I really must thank you. I owe it to you." He took a step closer. How did he know it was her? His voice was deep, nothing like it was before. What was happening here? What could he possibly be talking about? She'd never done anything to him. Her only past experience with this pony deprived her of her parents, left her running for her life, and very nearly ended it. This was not like anything she'd imagined. She'd felt anger towards him his whole time, but what could this be? This was not right.

"What happened to your eyes!?" She stood there as this thing seemed to look straight through where she was. Could he really see her? How? The eyeless gaze of this thing felt like it was piercing right into her soul.

"Where we're all going we won't need eyes to see. Boss does not appreciate failure. He gave me this gift for it." He chortled. Gift? What did that mean? He strode directly towards her. He did know exactly who and where she was, somehow. Traveler disengaged the suit stealth system and it shimmered into view. There was no point draining it all the way down now, and no escaping a fight with this thing that looked like a pony. The suit would still be more sluggish, but not as badly.

"Did you really think a worthless parlour trick would hide you from me?" His voice was gravelly, not at all like it was when she first heard him a couple months ago, and not even like he sounded earlier on. Parlour trick? What was the deal with this pony? Somehow, with no eyes he'd seen right through the suit stealth system, walked all this way pulling ridiculous weight behind him. There was no logic to it, how? There was no time to think about this.

"All I cared about you stole from me. We never did anything to you. You took my parents away!" Traveler hoped he could not hear the tremble in her voice, her doubt about taking him on.

"Pawns know nothing." Pawns? With that he charged straight towards her, leading her to jump to the side just in time. An unexpected rushing move. He held no weapons the suit could detect, and nothing she could see. Didn't he know she was wearing armor?

"He's kinda quick for somepony so large." She observed to herself. Almost unreasonably fast. Her dodging left him smashing through one of the smaller crates, totally destroying whatever might have been inside. Whoa. Something about that also wasn't right. Nothing about this felt at all normal. Did she just hear something else as he smashed through it?

A voice? It was difficult to tell. Taking that straight on could have been bad even with the armor. He'd struck through the box with far more force than he should be able to possess.

"A few hits like that and I'd be killed for sure." She swallowed hard. It was a humbling realization. Try to remain calm, think and analyze while under attack was something you must be able to do, her father taught. Let panic impair your judgement and you will surely lose a fight. Thankfully this guy seemed intent on fighting her himself and was not involving the robot, or maybe it was more damaged than she thought?

He did not seem like the sort that might know how to repair such a thing. Perhaps he was just holding off using it for some reason. Her opponent was already coming at her again. He did not appear to have any care about the armor she wore. Traveler fired a shot from one of the suits few light weapons. A nine millimeter round blasted right through his shoulder and he stopped for a mere instant, or did he? What was that? Some odd feeling as the shot struck home. He still slammed into her, making the suit vibrate. It was enough to hurt even through it. How did that happen? Before there was even time to consider he reached his forelegs around the suit and lifted. What? What was going on? What is he doing?

"Be stilled wretch." Another odd thing for him to say as she felt herself and the suit being lifted upwards and flailing. This was far too much strength. There was no way he could be this strong, to lift this suit and her with it? It was impossible, yet she was being flipped right over as he bent at an odd angle to hold her aloft. He was going to drive her straight into the ground. It almost felt like she was moving in slow motion towards it. This was going to hurt very badly. Closer, closer. From this position there was nothing she could do but flail her legs. It was doing no good. Any second now she was going to crash into the ground and die. Shutting her eyes tightly she nearly found herself calling for her parents.

They were gone for so long already, they could not help her anymore. A quick flashing memory of her father and all his advice. Do not be intimidated. It was okay to be scared, but act. Her eyes popped open. At the very last instant before smashing into the ground in a way that would surely break her neck she snapped all her legs as hard as the suit could manage, it was just enough force to send her tumbling instead of being killed. The disturbing pony grunted at the upside down suit impacting against the top of his head, causing him to heave her away. It was the first pained sound she'd heard him make. He didn't make the slightest peep at being shot.

Kicking that hard hurt herself, but it was far better than what would have happened if she didn't do it. How could he have done that? The suit issued a short heavy impact warning as he'd somehow lifted the suit with her in it and only through her own action sent it flying to roll a couple times and land upside down in a heap. His strength was incredible, ludicrous. She'd been told by her father he thought she was fairly strong physically. At least insofar as being an earth pony ever granted, but this was insane by comparison. An inverted tag showed in her vision before righting herself. The way she'd landed could have been so much worse.

It was still enough to make her wonder just what she was really facing in this guy. Was some kind of magic or something else placed upon or around him? Her suit was not reading or picking up anything special or unusual about him at all. His strength and lack of eyes seemed to defy being so completely ordinary. So far, thankfully Moonlight took no real damage. If it did, nothing was apparent. This was not a fight she wanted to be having, never imagining the pony was her parents murderer. She wasn't ready. This was all happening too fast. She noticed the spot where her bullet hit whilst bloody, looked healed already. Could anypony really heal that quickly?

His neutral though disturbing expression revealed nothing. Firing another round proved as futile as before, but this time she moved aside after it hit him right in the center of his neck. It drove right through. Traveler was ready this time if it still didn't stop him. It didn't. For the briefest instant it looked as though he went to reach for the spot where it impacted, but he barreled towards her again to just miss. It was difficult to tell if she'd really seen that or not, it happened too quickly. She got up quickly, there was no time to wait. A moment to rest or recover would be too much to ask for.

"You should accept your end, before Boss brings it to you. You won't enjoy it very much." That voice of his was so gravelly and terrible. What happened to this pony? The way he spoke and acted was so much different she wouldn't even have recognized him compared to the first time. What was he talking about? It was not making any sense. This entire fight made little. Why was he here? How did he get so far ahead of them anyway? She thought he'd still be very far away. Either he could move much faster than he was letting on or something was even stranger.

Traveler was beginning to have second thoughts about this. It was nothing like she ever imagined it might be to face the one that stole her parents lives. On seeing him at first she felt such terrific rage, but it seemed gone. Now, engaged in battle with this terrifying pony felt totally opposite what she expected. This was not what she wanted, but what did she really want or expect? Nothing could make up for taking her parents away. It struck her heavily, she didn't desire this. Not really. Killing anypony was not what she wanted to do.

"Please, stop. I do not want to do this!" She stated factually as she faced him. This elicited the strangest reaction yet.

"You don't want, to fight?" He spoke in that terrible voice then reared up and began cackling maniacally and jumped towards her so unexpectedly she almost didn't move. It was an impressive leap for any. He only just missed connecting. What was he doing? He moved just quickly enough, a backwards kick which only grazed her armor. It made a little tinging sound. Traveler found herself shoved sideways by the softest impact. A small cracked groove appeared in the left side surface of the armor. It was so slight. The kick barely touched it, yet the force was enough to do that? A few direct hits like that might be enough to break straight through her suit.

She'd expected it from the instant she saw him and realized who it was, but knowing he really would destroy her given the slightest chance was beyond some kind of disconnect with her feelings. He really was a killer. Cold and calculating. Were the things he was saying just meant to be confusing? She turned and faced him once more. He did not look to really be moving that quickly. Something was just not right about it. The way he acted and moved.

"Tell me, why did you kill my parents!?" She did want to know why, if only to give some reason to their deaths, and perhaps her own.

"So pathetic. All will fall. It is Boss will. He has opened my eyes." Was that some kind of sick joke he made? His eyeless expression betrayed that, and was twisted into a sneer as he spoke. His will? Was this pony going to say anything that made sense? He was so difficult to gauge, and the feeling of strangeness surrounding just didn't stop. Was he simply crazy? No. He was too calm and collected, it must be something else.

"I did your parents a favor. Allow me to do the same for you. Give in now or suffer mightily." His demeanor changed. A favor? By killing them?

"I Should just stop listening to this guy and find a way to stop him." She could only think to herself now. If that was even possible. There was no getting out of this. She would have to kill him even if she didn't want to. Traveler fired again. It hit him right between where his eyes should be. The same off motion again. There must be something to what he was doing. Some trick, some bit of information that would let her put him down. As he went to run at her again she fired another round which struck home, right through the side of his neck this time. Any other pony would be dead three times over now, why was he still alive?

Again, almost imperceptibly it looked to her as though he went to reach up to where the bullet hit, but continued forward instead. Whatever happened now she must not let him hit her. Without the suit the slight blows she took so far would have been crippling. His kicks were absolutely devastating. How he knew exactly where to aim was disconcerting by itself. That was one of the armors weakest points. She was definitely faster than him, just a little. Even with the suit dragging a bit. It was such bad timing. If it was not lagging like this she might even be able to avoid him entirely. Perhaps she shouldn't have told the others to run, but they weren't in much condition to fight right now.

Especially in the dark, could they have helped anyway? So far he seemed practically invulnerable. Left desperately searching for any thought about this which could stop him. Tanner would not approach unless the robot was involved. Was he watching from somewhere? The prisoners must have reached him by now. If she could just hold out long enough they might be able to tell him something useful. Feeling colder than ever. What was this cold? What was going on here?

"Can you not, see?" He asked her as if having a cordial conversation.

"Stupid filly soon off to bed. You should stop shooting me in the head. Don't you know you can't kill what's already dead?" This pony was twisted. Vile and sickening. The way he looked. The way he spoke and acted was repulsive. Traveler was feeling genuinely ill. That off feeling surrounding was so dark.

"What are you ranting about?" She asked. It was a genuine question, but maybe keeping him talking was distracting. Anything to give her more time to think.

"No." Was all he said. No, what? Another unexpected jump towards her. He was very good at doing the unexpected.

Traveler was not fast enough, with no other choice this time she went to kick backwards at the same instant, as her armored hoof connected dead on with his she felt the most odd sensation. Like it smashed against some impossibly solid wall. A mountain. He rolled away from the heavy impact, and the outer casing of the suit leg buckled slightly as a crisscrossing pattern of shattering metal material sheered off the outside surface, sending her careening away from him in pain. Whoa. Without the suit it would surely have broken her leg. As it was it caused such terrific hurt. Some of the worst pain she'd ever felt. What was it going to take? Putting a stop to this was all but impossible.

She limped a little, trying to shrug it off. He'd already ignored being shot through multiple times. Did he have no weakness? Strangely, he remained prone. What happened there? Did meeting his kick with equal force actually hurt him somehow? A short moment passed and slowly he began rising to his hooves once more. A blow like that amplified by her suit would almost certainly have broken a normal pony in half. It was not as powerful as the suit Magnificent possessed, but gave a nice passive boost of almost two times her own strength. Was this pony..really already dead? Traveler shook her head. That's impossible.

"Don't be stupid. It's just some kind of spell or something. It must be. Think." Her thoughts raced on what to do next. Taking just a single direct blow from her opponent proved it to be something best avoided. He stood there facing away from her, ears twitching. His head snapped quickly towards her. That was disturbing in a way she'd never imagined. That creeping cold feeling surrounding felt worse still.

"For that, I am going to tear your limbs off one by one. After I rip the coat from you." Traveler shivered as his demeanor changed once more. His voice was so much different again, it sounded an even more serious note. Such a horrible voice.

Almost felt more than heard. That threat was horrific. What was this guy? Surely somepony like this was not just crazy? There was something at work here she could not understand, something dark and unknowable. He turned towards her. Why did it have to be him they ran across? It just wasn't fair. She was going to die here. Her efforts to fulfill her fathers dying request would come to nothing after all. She felt terrible about this thought, but there was nothing to do. What would he say if he was here? It was difficult to keep her mind on the fight in front with such thoughts.

"Pawns should stay out of others affairs. Let me stop you, before Boss does." There he went again.

Why did he keep calling her that and talking about some pony she'd never seen? Maybe he really was insane, but that couldn't grant him this ridiculous strength or odd abilities. All she could do right now was hit with everything. Her thoughts resolved into one idea alone. Instead of anger a strange calm overcame her.

"You know what my daddy told me?" She said. This both looked and sounded like it enraged him further.

"He taught me that sometimes you have to make tough choices, and no matter how much it hurts you have to see them through. I am probably going to die right now, but that's alright because I know I have given it my best shot." Traveler's words were angering him greatly. She could have sworn if he still had eyes they would be glaring at her with an intensity unrivaled.

"You keep talking about somepony else, but you never say anything about yourself. Have you no will of your own?" As she spoke these words, he actually growled. Why did saying that get to him so much? That might never be answered.

It was time. Through tears she spoke for probably the final time towards the confines of the suit.

"Moonlight, I don't know if you can understand me. I don't know if you have feelings or are nothing but a machine. All this time you've felt like..a friend. I choose to believe I have friends now, even if I didn't have them very long, and that you're one of them. Give me all the power you've got." All parts of the display went blank except the very important ones. Maybe it really did understand, somehow.

"Let's go, friend." She reared up and so did her opponent. On landing they both ran straight towards one another like streaking missiles to collide with each other. At them meeting a terrific crackling sound was heard between them.

At the instant he struck towards the front of her armor the AEGIS deflection tag lit up for a brief second and a bright glow sent both him and her hurtling backwards in opposite directions. Some time passed before she regained her wits. Blinking, she jerked at the realization she'd blacked out for about thirty seconds. Her ribs pained from the jarring and being thrown around like that she slowly managed to stand up again. Where was he? The threat indicator was still there. Directly away behind where she landed. Her landing was so hard it actually carved a groove in the ground. Turning her head looking around hurt. What just happened? He was bounced away like a bullet?

What luck of chance, but how much force could he possibly have behind him? The deflection system was not like the kinetic shield the robot had. Its function was based solely on the willpower of the user. That happening was the rarest instance of luck. Somehow for a brief instant she'd focused so much and intently it actually worked. If he'd not been charging at her it still wouldn't have had that effect. Traveler literally got lucky enough to ram him with a shield, but he'd even knocked that back somehow.

"Well, bet he wasn't expecting that. I know I wasn't." Traveler coughed and stumbled slightly.

The previous injury to her ribs was hurting badly again after those terrible jolts and tumbles. All four legs hurt to stand on and felt like they were quivering and shaky from the impact. Not good. At least nothing was broken. A great amount of dust was thrown up from where the two ponies made such contact. She could just manage to make out the outline of a pony laying on their side over there.

"D-d..did we get him, Moonlight?" She managed to stutter and struggle. It felt hard to breathe. The armor was power cycling after that. It would be a full hour before she could move at a full pace again. Not good.

It didn't take more damage that could be seen. Good. If that wasn't enough to stop him there would be nothing else she could do. In great pained strides she limped towards where he lay, then stopped at the terrible sight of him rolling over and slowly starting rise up once more.

"I guess not..thanks anyway, Moonlight." She said, huffing and resigned to her fate. However, he was moving much more slowly as well. Maybe there was still a slim chance. Was he groaning? Perhaps she really did hurt him that time. It wouldn't matter. He was just too strong. All the advantages she'd thought the suit gave her were negated by this..thing.

There was no way he was really a pony. How could he possibly be? The suit never registered anything unusual about him at any time. As the dust from their collision settled it became clear he really was actually injured. What about those impacts hurt him when bullets could not do the job? Good. He should feel pain. He deserved it.

"I think I'm starting to figure this guy out, maybe." Traveler thought, panting heatedly from the exertion. Only two physical blows actually connected with each other, yet she was nearly knocked out of the fight despite her armor. No wonder the captives hadn't escaped of their own accord from that flimsy rolling cage.

Even trying would have been pointless without assistance. Why did he take them prisoner anyway? Not the time to be thinking about that. She wasn't angry at all anymore. There was nothing but sadness. She'd never see Magnificent or Tanner or anypony ever again. She stepped closer.

"What did you think of that huh, big guy? Care to try it again? That all ya got?" She sort of coughed out. Ominously those eyeless sockets slowly turned towards her once again, otherwise his expression was one of pure hatred. It was creepy and disconcerting. Almost as much as him knowing exactly where she was all the time.

How was he doing any of this? Now she could see, his leg was bleeding straight up from where his hoof hit the deflection field. He turned to face her straight on, not saying anything. This was probably going to be very bad. Was this fight without end? He'd seemed untouchable, but he was definitely not invulnerable. If he did heal rapidly that blow was still enough to leave a real and lasting injury. Here he comes. Slower than before for certain. Almost as slow as she was confined in the suit. There was no time to exit Moonlight. Even if she could get out in time, it was the only thing giving her any chance at all right now. She could not abandon it and hope to run away. Leave her armor?

Not a thought she wanted to consider. She could not win. Not against this. It was clear.

"Hold together, please?" Traveler silently asked of her stealth suit. It was so dissimilar to the armor Down Range wore. Quieter, smaller, lighter. Would his heavier armor be faring any better against such an enemy? It did not seem likely. His armor was powerfully built, this was a given, but it was definitely not as fast. In this state it might almost be faster than hers. She could not engage the high-speed travel options with it like this. It left no choice but to face her opponent. There must be an option. Wasting more rounds was pointless.

Her father gave so much advice on fighting, there must be something. She tried very hard to think. Analyze and think was something he stressed. If you cannot outfight them then outsmart them. Some hint to a real weakness must be there. In the things he said, in the few times they indirectly and directly made contact, it must. Sheer luck saved her once, wasting another chance would be terrible. Her position left her in front of the large crate the robot was housed in. Something she wasn't entirely conscious of at the moment. He screeched. What the?

"You ignorant foal! How dare you? How DARE you!? You would slight and disgrace me in Boss' eyes!? You're nothing but an insignificant little filly! You will pay!" He was screaming? Boss again? Who was he? Why did he keep going on about him? What did he mean to this pony? He moved much faster than she was anticipating and found herself rammed up against the large wheeled crate. She was pinned in the air against it. How strong was he!? With his leg like that he could not move as fast, but it was still enough. This was bad, in mere seconds he would shatter her suit and she would die. Tears welled.

"I tried. I tried so hard." Her thoughts were on her parents as she choked up.

They would be okay with this, she knew they would. Traveler had given it her all. She'd at least hurt the awful pony that killed them. That was good enough. Everything she brought to bear against this guy just wasn't enough to finish the job. Tilting her head down to look at him she said what would likely be her last words. An oddly intense quick image of her mother flashed in her blurring vision.

"Not yet dear." This ghostly mirage whispered and the image flicked out. What could that have been? Was it just something brought on from expecting to die?

"I pity you." If Traveler was not wearing armor she would have spit in his face. At this he growled as fiercely as could be and pulled his right hoof back, the other holding her pinned to the tall crate. He was going to punch right through her armor. It would surely kill her. As he went to end her life a shot rang out in the distance, clipping through his shoulder. Again it looked almost like he reached to touch where it struck, but did not. His head twisted in that sickening snapping motion towards where the sniper shot came from. In an instant this brief flicker of distraction set him up for a moment of extreme irony.

The suits amplified strength went straight into him as it let her aim a kick to his groin with a terrible crunching sound. This sent him rolling about the ground screaming, throwing her to the side. It was a hard landing, so rough the armor actually bounced. Bullets might have done little, but just plain hitting him seemed to cause true lasting damage. At last, he was really hurt in some manner.

"Oww. Ohh. Wait, I'm still alive? Run." This thought sent Traveler running, as fast as her suit could still move she ran. In the distance behind she glanced to just make out him yelling between agonized pained moaning.

Some of her fathers advice was to never look back when running, but she couldn't help it. She'd really managed to injure him with that last kick. This felt satisfying in some way she could not really express to herself. Just keep running. It hurts so much. She was limping quite a bit after all that. Alarm bells were ringing in her. That terrible dark cold feeling creeping around felt even worse than before. What was up with that?

"Pommel Horse! Get me out of here!" He screeched in apparent agony. Oh no. The terrible machine sprang to life in its large crate. Those eerily rotating barred blue eyes spinning as it revved up.

"ORDERS RECEIVED. OPERATION: ASSET EXTRACTION." That awful booming mechanical voice broke the night. Asset? Everything it did was so loud. If she wound up in a fight with that thing she'd be torn to pieces in seconds. The powerful war machine rolled out of its crate and the entire top section spun around to aim weapons in her direction as it continued to roll towards him. Remembering her fathers advice she was running in a zigzag at angles away from it, trying to stay out of its line of sight using the tall crate. The limp was slowing her down further. Her legs were hurting so much. A few pinging rounds bounced off the suit at bad angles. Without it those definitely would have killed her.

While fleeing for her life she took only that one quick glance back. Run run run. It was not coming after her. Finally, Traveler figured she was probably outside its effective range. The horrible pony even injured as he was climbed atop the hideous machine and clung to it while it trundled off at a very fast pace. The battle robot did look far more damaged than she was able to see earlier. She was nearly hyperventilating. Traveler sort of just stopped for now. They were gone. He was gone. Several times in that brief fight she'd nearly lost her life. Tapping out the exit command she tumbled out the back of Moonlight and lay on her back panting like crazy.

Staring up at the ever obscured skies, Traveler was nearly hyperventilating. One of the ponies she saved must have fired that shot, she would have to thank them for granting such a chance. Closing her eyes tight, she coughed a few times.

"I'm alive! Hahahahaha. I'm still alive.." She burst into giggling fits which hurt her aching ribs. Oww. There was no way she could have lived through that, but here she still was. Tilting her head to the side she could see Tanner and the others quickly approaching. So they were watching. The mare wearing the strange crossing armor draped over her stood there, muzzle agape before speaking.

"Holy moly girl. You must be either the craziest or the bravest pony I have ever seen. Either way, you're absolutely bad-ass!" The mare in the unusual armor gushed. Traveler felt like she was blushing all over upon hearing that. The tough and grizzled looking griffon with them simply nodded his head.

"You saw?" Traveler panted.

"Night scope. You did light up the place a couple times too." The mare was pointing at the other ponies sniper rifle. The big griffon stepped forward.

"I approve. I hate to admit it, but I couldn't take him. I don't think most griffons would have survived a dust-up like that. Fine work." He reached down in offer to help her up which she gladly accepted. Tanner somehow looked pale despite his red coat.

"Where was he taking you anyway?" Traveler risked her life saving them in order to further her own ends, but was very curious. The pony with the dangerous looking sniper rifle spoke up.

"Good question, Absolutely no idea. So, who ARE you anyway? I recognize that one." The griffon pointed at Tanner and spoke with a heavy tone. All three seemed friendly enough.

"Tanner, coin." Traveler pointed a hoof at his pack. He set it down and promptly fished it out to show them. As always he found what he was looking for nearly immediately in all those pockets and held it up. Impressive that he could do that.

"The captain sent you? That's his mark for sure. It wasn't after us I hope." The other mare stated.

"No. We just wanted to ask your help searching for something in a place you're going to be passing by anyway." Traveler was able to breathe easy once again as she calmed down, the adrenaline rush was wearing off and leaving her feeling slightly woozy. Her legs and ribs would likely be aching for days after all that. She could just tell.

"Good, I didn't think he'd disrespect us that way. So you went through all that just to get our help, huh? You sure you need it? I am glad you came along though. I'm Tasket, that's Tisket. The tough guy there is Gunnar, but I think you hold the title for that." Tasket told her. Gunnar looked away a bit indignantly.

Traveler never heard names like those before, still feeling a bit embarrassed in a good way.

"Pleased to meet you. I must admit I wasn't expecting meeting you to be..quite like this." As Traveler spoke her words got a laugh out of the three. That was such a pleasant thing to hear, especially out here. This was a good start.

"I hate to say this and please don't take it the wrong way, but you three look pretty beat up." She could see it in their faces and eyes. They must have taken quite a beating themselves.

"He took us down pretty fast. You've seen what he can do, and felt it. He just showed up out of nowhere three days ago. Naturally we tried to fight. He knocked those two out real quick. I couldn't even slow him down and then he just threw us in those wheeled cages. Kept mumbling something about someone called Boss the whole time. Something about him isn't normal, if you hadn't guessed that already." Gunnar looked perturbed by this fact as he spoke. Not normal. No kidding. He must be about as far from normal as could be.

"We should see if there's anything in that mess we can use. Maybe there's something helpful in one of those box things. I doubt even he would be coming back after a few blows like those." Tanner was looking towards the crates while speaking. Ever a consummate scavenger. Still, it was a good way to be these days. It obviously served him well. It might be worth a look anyway. Perhaps some clue to what he was doing was there. They casually walked over to where the fight took place. It left a true mess of both the strange boxes and the area itself.

"Something about one of those small boxes concerns me. We could never quite see properly, but I swear we saw might have saw these little things that looked like tiny ponies with wings. It was impossible to really see or hear mind you." Tisket pointed a hoof at the small box the terrible pony crashed through, went over to it and slightly lifted the edge to look under. Traveler twitched slightly. Oh no. No. Did she get somepony else killed? There didn't seem to be anyone else around. Tisket peered under the broken board, then gently set it back down and looked like she was going to be sick. She took a deep breath. Traveler felt her good feeling evaporate instantly.

"I don't know what they were. There were two of them. Poor little guys. They do look a bit like ponies, had antennas too. Sorta like those roach things. Cuter. Never seen or heard of anything like them. Any of you know?" Traveler's heart sank at Tisket's words while they all said no. She went to pull back the board, but Tisket stopped her and shook her head.

"Don't look." Tasket looked ill as she went over to talk to her companions.

"Tanner, I killed them. I don't even know if they were ponies or what, but I killed them." Traveler trembled as she spoke.

"Traveler, no. If anypony killed them it was him. It looks pretty clear to me none of them were going to survive whatever he was planning to do with them." Tanner cautiously reach out and patted her on the back gently.

It was nice of him to offer. He was likely right.

"Don't beat yourself up, okay? Look what you just went through. I don't know how you survived all that, but if you hadn't they would still be prisoners and we would all probably be dead. No quitting, right? We should all get some rest now." He looked her straight in the eyes. Rest. Yes. That sounded very good. Traveler took a deep breath and sighed, closing her eyes tight for a moment.

"A-alright. I just feel bad I didn't save them." He nodded as she spoke.

"We couldn't have known. They didn't really know either. I think we're in the clear on blame, okay?" Tanner motioned for her to go get some sleep. She gladly did so. It didn't take much to fall asleep. She was hurting, sore and tired from all that. It left her dreaming in odd stilted scenes of the fight, and the moment he crashed through the box. The little things stood no chance. Nothing about it was right. Hours later when she finally woke it was not to feeling much better, perhaps a little. Less tired. The feeling was anguishing. Tanner's words helped. It wasn't really her fault. There was no time to find out, and it was not really a mistake. Just something that happened.

She wandered over to the others who were still rummaging through all the wheeled crates. Most of it was not useful.

"What is all this junk? Most of it is total garbage. barely worth a few caps at all. Why was he dragging all this along? I can't understand it, and you called my stuff junk, sis. The only thing that isn't worthless is the extra water." Tasket was saying. One small crate of water packs. Enough for one pony on a really long trip. Maybe enough for their whole group to add an extra couple weeks worth. Good anyway.

"Something else is strange about that. Look at these packs, I've never seen anything like them. They almost look..new." Tanner sounded worried about this. They'd all clearly got some rest as well while Traveler was sleeping. What could this mean? New? Almost nothing ever looked new in the wastes. Maybe Down Range would know, if he was here to say.

"Hey. Are we all done here?" Traveler made a sweeping motion across all the chained wheel-boxes. They were finished combing through it all in the marginally better light of day.

"Now that I don't feel like I've been hit by a building I need to ask, will you help us? It won't be very far out of your way I promise. Maybe a few miles at most." Traveler didn't have a chance to really ask earlier.

"I can't be leaving such a debt owing. You did save these two." Gunnar told her. Save those two? What about him? She went to ask. Tisket interrupted.

"Big guy there is in charge on this mission, what he says goes for us." He looked over at Traveler.

"Say, you're kinda young, aren't you?" Tasket asked. Traveler glanced sideways at her with a sort of vague glare without quite realizing she was doing it.

"Whoa. Relax. No offense." Tasket was definitely surprised by that.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I just haven't been having a very good time lately. Uh, for a long time." Traveler took a deep breath and went to go get in her armor. It was only minorly damaged in two places aside from the leg joint. The armor integrity was down a bit. If this sort of thing kept up it would be totally destroyed before she got to her destination. That could not happen. It mustn't. Without it she would surely have died by now numerous times. She pat the thing before getting in it.

"Sorry, Moonlight. He was so powerful. You saved my life again. I swear I will try to get you repaired, somehow. There must be somebody that can do that, right?" A bit forlornly she once again found herself walking along pulling her families old cart.

In a way it was comforting to hear the constant sound of the wheels rolling behind as always. One of the few constants in her life since running from home in a panic. The others talked openly about their objective as they trod forward for several hours.At least they could make some distance before night fell once again. Traveler kept staring ahead, watching for any hint Magnificent was out here. There was nothing. Always going forward. Was this all she'd ever do again? Walk? Occasionally she caught bits of what the others were saying, paying little attention. It was a strange thing this Gunnar was doing. What would happen if he actually got where he was going? Just go out somewhere and die?

That was how it sounded. Tanner sort of trailed behind her, listening to their chatter. Traveler didn't care much at all right now. Her thoughts were a bit of a jumble about all the strangeness lately. It was all just so wrong. Everything. Bad dreams were one thing, encountering such terrors in reality was a far different matter. Strangeness almost seemed consistent now. The prisoners were safe and free now, but why did this even happen? What could he possibly have been planning to do with them? Her thoughts returned to home. Something she tried not to think about for the moment. She might have died right there, or here.

Facing off against the one that stole everything from her turned out to be so much different than expected. Deep in thought she just walked along for a few hours in front of the others. Oddly, nothing really felt like it mattered right now. A terrible sadness fell over her. So long she'd dwelled on what would happen when if they ever met.

"All this time I felt I wanted to kill him, but seeing him... I.. thought if I ever saw him I would just end his life like he ended yours, mom, dad..it's....I...was I wrong to want him dead, daddy? Daddy, why? Why are things like this!? Why?" As she thought this to herself Traveler stopped so abruptly that Tanner almost crashed right into her cart along with the others who were quite surprised by the abrupt interruption.

"Traveler? What is it? Is something wrong? Heya, snap out of it. Are you okay, Traveler?" Tanner stepped up beside her as she backed out of the suit in the usual awkward looking fashion. He could tell something was amiss. This was not a way he'd ever seen her act before. Only knowing her for a short bit still let him see something was terribly wrong. She stood there a moment in silence, staring blankly at the suit, then the ground.

"What's going on girl, you alright?" Tasket never saw anypony with an expression on their face like this before. Traveler took a few steps haltingly, starting to shake heavily.

"Traveler, are you sick, hurt? What's wrong?" Tanner was very confused by now, as they all were. Finally, she mouthed some words in a whisper he couldn't hear. A deep frown crossed his face. After another moment of this she raised her voice so sharply and suddenly they all jumped a little.

"It was him. It was him!" Traveler almost fell over as they all reached out to catch her.

"Him? Him, who? That pony? I don't know what you mean." Tanner gently eased her to the ground where she lay trembling. She sobbed and the tears she'd fought to rid herself of were pouring down once again.

It was too much to have seen and fought that wicked pony.

"He took everything away from me. He was the one that killed mom and dad! I hate him. I hate him. I HATE HIM!" Traveler lay there screaming incoherently and quivering, wracked with sobs as the others looked on in stunned silence. No longer really wanting to kill the mad pony who hurt her so, she could not contain her anger towards him for what he'd done. It seethed in her heart. Tanner's eyes were wide with shock at her words.

"Guys, give her space." Tanner bid them back away.

Ever so slowly he held himself over her back, gently laying his head against her neck comfortingly. Unsure, he held her.

"What can I do, Traveler?" He asked softly, hesitant and unknowing. The tears kept falling. It all hurt so much. Everything. She bawled and tears streamed down. Tasket's group looked on in silent concern.

What dangerous game is this they are playing? Who is really moving the pieces? If they are mere pawns, why is the game so hard to play?

Pegasus Piano Sonata In The Key of Die

Nearing war end aboard the H.P.C. Cygnus: Pegasi Airship Fleet Flagship.

"Lieutenant, report! Whats happening!?" An officer was trying to stand as the combat airship platform was taking heavy fire and tilting at a dangerously steep angle. Several explosions were going off as the lieutenant checked the controls.

"It looks like we've sustained heavy damage from an undetected enemy airship and lost three starboard cannons. Gun crews are returning fire but they're keeping to the damaged side. Armor cladding looks to be holding, for now. They came out of nowhere, sir! We didn't see them at all." He was bleeding from a deep gash across his left side and groaned.

"You should get to the medical bay promptly." The officer had regained his composure and stated calmly.

"With all due respect, I think we might be in serious trouble here. I will remain until the fight's won." He frantically jammed at several controls trying to stabilize the listing vessel despite his injuries. It was barely staying aloft currently and beginning to dip further, too much and they would start losing altitude rapidly in reverse.

"Why in the world would they attack us now? Are they trying to make things worse on themselves?" The officer could only try to hang on as the ship was rocked by an explosion on another deck. Others were scrambling about the bridge trying to contain small fires before they became a major issue.

"All flight teams status?" He asked of the comms officer at an adjacent station.

"Pegasi fliers cannot approach hostile craft. They're reporting it seems to be outfitted with some kind of concussive air flak system never before encountered. They..lost half of squads one and four already, sir." He continued to grimace in pain and kind of grunted what he was saying as the entire airship shuddered under another barrage which almost seemed to twist the deck they were standing on.

"Somepony tell me where the touring flag officer is, now!" The officer announced over the internal speakers.

A reply was short in coming, the response wasn't good. The roar of the cannons firing continually could be felt more than heard on the bridge. A very loud explosion came from deep below and the ship lurched to tilt heavily and turn slowly out of control.

"Oh that didn't sound or feel good." The officer held onto a side rail around the terminals.

"Munitions deck aft has been struck directly. Compartment casings held but the ship has been severely damaged under this pummeling, sir. Where is our support?" The lieutenant queried.

"I don't know. Every pegasus in a hundred miles should be responding to this, not to mention the entire fleet! Good thing we don't have any ground observers touring today." The officer said, trying to sound confident still despite the chaos surrounding. The comm activated and a very distraught voice came over.

"The Admiral and the Captain are down! They were on the observation deck when we were attacked." Whatever pegasus said that sounded totally shaken.

"Calm down, flyer. Wherever you are, it is time to get out. Go, now. That is an order." The officer said.

He would never know if his order was received as there was no reply. He stretched his wings and looked about the bridge one final time.

"Lieutenant, it would seem I am in command for what it's worth. The Cygnus is going down, sound general evac." The lieutenant did as ordered and the officer went on the comm.

"All hooves, abandon ship. Abandon ship. You know what to do." They were all battle tested by now, being forced to simply abandon this particular vessel was a deep wound and tarnish on their honor.

Most began vacating the bridge, but the lieutenant remained at the controls.

"What are you doing, lieutenant? Get out of here." The lieutenant looked over and smiled, his wound was nearly gushing now.

"Like you are, sir?" He questioned.

"I see. You know what this means, then?" The officer looked him straight in the eyes.

"Let's be honest. The bridge is smashed, and so am I. I'm dying and we both know it. You should go." He suggested.

"There is just enough control over her to do what you want, sir. Let me do it." The grievously wounded lieutenant was looking pretty drained. He was surprised by the officers reply.

"I understand a Captain should go down with their ship. I will be staying. Ramming speed, Lieutenant. While we still can." The lieutenant was stunned, and gave a salute which was quickly returned and he smiled.

"Aye..Captain. Engines two and five are down. All remaining guns have been set to auto, but they won't last long. Crew are out by now, if they could." He heaved at the controls.

"Understood, they knew the risks of serving. We all learned that the hard way, didn't we?" The officer almost sounded like he was having a casual conversation.

"Come on, just one hard turn. It's all I ask of ya you lumbering behemoth." The lieutenant gasped raggedly, but was managing the turn, albeit it was causing even more damage to the airship frame as it swung round. Just one last thing, just in case.

"Any remaining crew, brace for impact!" The officer announced. A few seconds later the massive vessels collided side-on.

The impact scraped along the outer hulls, both of which were so damaged in the battle neither could stand up to the others great bulk. The great ships careened against each other as enormous parts of the workings and decks were torn free to fall wherever they may. Fire and flames shot from the flagships grand Prank & Whinny engines as they turned for the last times, the fuel tanks rupturing and exploding, engulfing both completely in fire from stem to stern. The resulting wreckage scattering as the great ships were torn apart, sounding as if screaming in agony themselves. None that saw the sight of the great ships falling to their doom ablaze would forget it for however long they lived.

Provided they lived long at all, that is.