Fallout Equestria: Fading Echoes

by Winter Storm

All FoE credit goes to Kkat and Somber

MLP is the product of Hasbro and their associates

Chapter 1-Divine Intervention

"I don't have time for some silly scavenger hunt! I've got a real problem..."

It is truth that every being must enter the world blind, deaf, and utterly helpless. I myself was no exception. However, I had the misfortune to experience this more than once.

On the ground, curled up and shivering, I was no doubt the easiest target in the Wastelands. A radroach could saunter on by and take a big bite. The thought of this happening actually came to mind, emphasizing the need to get up, check the surroundings, and move.

As I carefully opened my eyes, I became... aware of my body. My limbs now held the sensation of being both arms and legs. It didn't take a genius to figure out that I wasn't a human anymore. I slowly slid a new foreleg in front of my face, eager to see what my new body looked like.

What type of pony would I be?

A dark grey pony, according to my eyes. A sort of blackish grey that could blend into the shadows. I leaned my head over my right shoulder, and caught a glimpse of dark brown. My tail. That, I thought, is rather boring. I guess my mane color matches my old hair. Next up on my mental checklist was the issue of locomotion. My preliminary glances told me I had no wings, so that scratched my being a pegasus off the list. Just as well, I figured.

Being a pegasus here means that the Steel Rangers or the Enclave will want you dead. That left me as an Earth pony or a unicorn. I hoped it was the latter. Call me picky, if you will. I had no desire to shoot guns using my mouth, thank you very much. A quick swipe with a fore hoof confirmed my hopes. I have a horn, and surprise! It's rather sensitive to physical contact.

Keeping my foul words to myself, lest someone heard me, I attempted to stand. I thought about how the ponies stood, and how a human might emulate a similar pose. I imagined myself back in my human form, touching the ground with my hands. Only my back was perfectly level instead of arching like a cat. Well, time to walk. The ponies, if I remembered correctly, walked with alternating hooves. To test this, I extended my left fore hoof, and felt a slight pull in my right hind leg. it wasn't unlike the natural human instinct to swing arms while walking. I followed this urge, and I successfully took my first step. A second and third soon followed. Who knows? Maybe I could become an expert trotter by the end of the day.

But then the raiders killed my momentum.

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Those who have knowledge of the Fallout universe know what raiders are. Humans, doped up and psyched out, dressed in a motley collection of metal plates and debris and screaming for your blood are bad enough. Give them guns and make them ponies, and they're ten times worse.

Now I had to deal with three of them.

With no guns. Or armor. Whoops.

Under better circumstances, this wouldn’t be a problem. A few bullets and there! Problem solved. Also, raiders are on my “Beyond Saving” list, so I would have no moral issues with blowing their heads off. They had their chance to be good people, ponies, what have you. A bullet to the head would only help the Wasteland.

Unfortunately, I was lacking in the weapon department. The raiders therefore had me both outnumbered and outgunned. Diplomacy was not an option. That left me two choices: fight or flee. Fleeing means a bullet in the flank, and fighting could mean a bullet, or twenty somewhere else. I figured fighting was my only chance of surviving, all while wondering how the hell I was going to win.

The leading pony, a pale yellow stallion with bloodstained metal armor, let out a psychotic scream around the gun in his mouth. A moment later, a wild spray of bullets peppered the ground before my hooves. This cut my observation short.

First order of business: find cover. I shot my gaze around my surroundings, and spotted what seemed to be a ruined sky chariot about ten feet away. Oddly convenient. Rather than look a gift chariot in the mouth, I charged for the wreck.

Only to trip over my own hooves three seconds later.

I slid to a painful stop just behind it when the bullets started flying over my head. There were pings and sparks erupting all around me, but still no injuries. I had no idea how long my makeshift cover would hold, so I needed a plan.

I had no gun, so shooting them was impossible. I could try to lift the chariot and throw it at them, but I had no magical practice, and would probably get shot to pieces in the process. At this point, all I could do was wait for somepony or something to rescue me. Maybe Littlepip or Blackjack would show up and save the day!

Yea, right.

Wait a second. Blackjack. She weaponized her telekinetic magic. Flinching as a stray shot tore a chunk off my cover, I frantically tried to activate my latent magical power. The muscles in my neck bulged, my eyes practically popping out of their sockets. Suddenly, I felt a sharp, aching at the base of my horn. Could I have done it?

Nope. A stray bullet had merely cut a thin line across the top of my head. "Crap." I groaned. "I'm about to be the first human to meet God twice."

Then, something happened. Flashes of memories, memories that weren't my own, tore through my mind. Then..

Suddenly, I knew.

I knew how to charge up my horn.

I knew how to direct the chaotic flow of energy that would arise, how to properly use it.

In an instant, I could see a red-maned mare, her armor torn and bloodstained, with blinding flashes of magic striking out from her horn, the bolts tearing though a pony-shaped robot, in the dark, twisted corridors of some ancient structure. I blinked, and, just for a moment, my mind melded with hers. Only a second, but one that seemed to last a thousand years. The flow of energy was wondrous, a sensation that no human had ever experienced, so completely alien and unique.

Together, we alit our horns with magic. As one, we leapt around the next corner, and released a spell.

A spell that I knew how to cast.

In that instant, I knew how to kill the raiders.

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A second blink, and existence continued. Without a second thought, I stood upright, head and shoulders above my disintegrating cover. As bullets tore past, I began a process that was utterly new, but with the ease of a lifetime of experience. Strength flowed from my limbs, consolidating into the base of my horn. A headache struck, and my legs trembled. A mental switch clicked, and the strength made an inexplicable change into eldritch energy.

From there, I focused all the energy into a single, marble-sized space. The little orb blazed with blue light, and it took all of my attention to keep it from expanding. with a second burst of magic, I created a small wave that shot the orb towards the raiders. It flew in a graceful arc, leaving a small trail of blue light behind it.

Then it hit the yellow raider.

BOOOOOOOOM!

A wave of pure energy blasted out from the pony's body, sending a shockwave that revirberated through the air. The yellow one was disintegrated instantly. Unfortunately for the other two, who still seemed surprised at my sudden attack, they were not behind cover. The shockwave killed two raiders instantly, the force first shattering their bones, then tearing the fragments out of their flesh.

They were dead before they knew it.

As it turned out, there had been a fourth raider, a brown-coated mare with a tattered saddlebag. She must have been lagging behind the others, because she was outside the lethal zone of my spell. As it was, the mare was tossed violently into the air, screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. They abruptly cut off as she slammed back into the ground with a sickening crunch, a trail of blood and torn flesh marking her landing.

My first five minutes in the Wasteland, and I had already learned to walk, use magic, and kill raiders. I hope I survive the rest of the day.

Now, everyone knows that looting the bodies is the next step of survival. Problem is, it's difficult to do so when there's half a raider's head at your hooves, with blood and specks of brain matter pouring out of the single eye socket. In fact, it's impossible without throwing up. Following my body's urges, I looked away and dry-heaved, but the image of that head stubbornly refused to go away. I shuffled backwards and sat down as another wave of nausea struck.

Come on, come on, its just blood. It's not an injury, because nobody is feeling any pain. That's not a person. That's not anything worth focusing on. It can't feel anything. Get a grip. it's just something on the ground... I reigned in on my thoughts, not allowing them any room to expand or warp.

I turned back and opened my eyes. The head was still there, but the response to it was gone. It was just something on the ground.

I looked at the horrific scene with new eyes. I took note of the ravaged barding, the submachine gun that the lead raider had used, and the ground nearby. The armor was shredded, and the firearm was torn in two. Walking around the circle of scorched earth, I approached the last raider. I didn't see her collapsed body, laying on its side. I didn't see the white of bone protruding from the torn red flesh of her back.

I didn't see the short, irregular gasps of breath, each one laden with untold suffering. Striking green eyes, clouded with misery. I didn't see the simple, unspoken desire in those eyes, the desire to live, for the pain to stop.

I saw the revolver laying in front of me. I saw an aura of blue magic surrounding it, lifting it, allowing me to examine it like an interesting trinket. The grip, moulded to easily fit in a pony's jaw, the long barrel, the enlarged trigger. A single bullet in the chamber. I saw the barrel resting on the mare's bloodied head.

I heard the sound of a single gunshot. But I didn't see the mare.

Just something on the ground.

Moving away, I caught sight of the raider's damaged saddlebag. I raised the bag, and a metallic object tumbled out. Grenades? Mines? I caught the thing before it hit the ground, and magically shoved it away from me. From a safe distance, I noticed a familiar shape to it.

A PipBuck.

One that looked different than the others. For starters, there were no buttons, only a blank green screen surrounded by metal bracing. Where the buttons normally were, there were three dark green unlit lights. With nothing better to do, I levitated the device next to my left foreleg. As it approached, the bracer split apart, allowing me to place it against my fur. With a hiss of pressurized air, the device clamped shut, the padding resting firmly against my fur. For a split second, I felt a simultaneous pinch underneath the PipBuck and in my head. The strange sensation quickly passed.

Sliding my left hindleg forwards to keep my balance, I bent my foreleg until the device was clearly visible. The dark green screen lit up with the silhouette of a pony. Words quickly typed themselves across the screen, followed by a slowly filling bar.

New User Detected/System Initializing…

While I waited for the bar to fill, I realized that more stuff had fallen out of the damaged bag. A cursory examination revealed three dirtied plastic bags filled with bottlecaps, an empty leg holster, and some boxes of bullets. They were .32 rounds, the same ammunition that the revolver I used to...

...To kill a raider. Silently pleading, begging for her life...

No. Nothing more.

I floated the gun over, opened a box of ammo, and methodically loaded the rounds. With mechanical precision, I closed the chamber, slid the gun into the holster, and fastened it to my right leg. I dumped the remaining loot into the less damaged pocket of the bag, and strapped it to my body.

A beep emanated from my foreleg. I looked back, and saw a silhouette of a stallion on the screen. It resolved itself into a segmented diagram, showing vitals of each major body part.

Letting my foreleg drop, I scanned my surroundings. In the distance, the skeleton of a ruined town rose from the earth. Just one step. Than another. Setting out in a new direction, without a purpose. I didn't look back at the carnage left in my wake.

Just something on the ground.

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Footnote: Level Up!
Welcome to Level 2!
Perks:
Kkat Fan: Your vast knowledge of the Equestrian Wasteland gives you an edge. Sometimes you know more about a pony than they would like, much to your benefit. +1 Charisma, +1 Luck. Unique knowledge options available.

Hand of God: God, the Lord of Heaven, is helping you out. You depend on it a little too much, however. Increased chance of gaining Memory Perks, -15% ALL experience gains.

Reputation Perk added:Apathetic Killer: It's not murder. It's fate. Nothing more. Unique Intimidate dialogue options are available, but at the loss of karma.

Memory Perk added: Eldritch Grenade: You can create one energy-based explosive per day. You're never without a weapon now.

Author's Note

The new notes: Dark. That's the only way I can describe that ending.

I'm surprised. Truly. This just came to me as I was doing the revisions. I know the direction the story is going to take. I know how the Wasteland will change because of this character.

I know who Stephen really is, and what he's going to become.

Do you?