Chapter Two: Death comes a knockin'!

This was an odd experience. I was dead apparently. That or I was just having the weirdest dream I could never have. We were sitting at a table in Canterlot, the place was called The Grassy Knoll. The other pony across from me is probably the only soul to look uglier than me. But they are wearing a snazzy Stetson and a leather trench coat, obviously from Griffonia. They’ve been looking at me for the past ten minutes or so. I was going to have to make the first move.

“So, who are you?” I had a pretty good guess, but maybe I was just having a super weird dream in my unconsciousness.

“Well, can’t you tell?” The pony had a cheery salesman voice, but not grating on the ears. They were male because of the tone. At least it was a happy voice.

“Well, the Grim Reaper I guess.” It was pretty easy, the lack of facial tissue, or anything resembling flesh anywhere else and the horn that looked as though it was the end of a scythe was a dead giveaway.

“That’s good, shaves roughly three minutes of our time off. You technically aren’t dead yet. So we have time to chat. Don’t ask the first question that pops into your head. Yes, I do like it because I was created to reap souls. It all got a bit much though when the spells fell. At least three billion ponies. I can’t imagine what the zebra reaper must have been thinking. Then it kind of petered off to a level where I could laze about all day. After those horrible raiders came it started picking up again. Even though they were tough nuts by wasteland standard they screamed more than a bit when they saw me.

Oh, another question on your mind should be ‘why here?’ The answer to that is simple; this is your favourite café right? It is actually called the Café of Broken Dreams. Not even I know what its true shape is. I imagine it as that café in the Gallopers Garden or one from the New Pegas Strip. Before the spells fell it was actually this café. It seemed they had a lot of customers.” This pony must be the only pony to live longer than me. I did kind of prepare myself for dying and this is really quite pleasant. I wonder if my friends will die in the same fashion.

“Ok, I guess you could call this my third question. Why am I dressed up in my old suit and tie?” It was a nice, clean, white suit. It had a red tie running down. It was the highest class morning wear you could ever get. So why was it night?

“Because it was morning when we started. The cycle of the sun is how long you have left to live. It’s been going really slowly as well; which is nice. Because then I get to talk to someone. You can understand if my boss is a bit distant. You know, dealing with everything and its passage into the underworld. We still have a backlog of one thousand zebras but that should be gone in a week then we can move on to the wasteland ponies.” Slowly? It’s been going rather fast actually; I’ve only been here six or seven minutes.

“Slowly you say, it’s only been seven minutes!”

“Yeah, but that equates to about twenty-one hours of you dead. Wait, hold on, it’s going backwards. Are you undying or something? I met this one guy who was. There is only one café even though it’s infinitely large and has infinite rooms so you can’t see him at the moment. He sits in a table a couple doors down. Sipping on coffee, from what he told me he got bored of outliving everything in the universe twice over he just went to the very middle of the universe and became eternally dead and undead. Name was Wade I think. He is eternally stuck on day and night and after a while he exhausted all his stories. There’s only so much one immortal can tell you.” He looked at the now sun going the opposite direction as did I. My friends must have dropped me into a rad pit I guess. The sun was only just peeking up though. So I guess I had five minutes left to chat to this guy.

“So, um yeah. I guess I just can’t die really. Well that’s certainly good. Any interesting people who weren’t immortal?”

“Yeah, there was this one drummer. He kind of thought his death was ‘epic’. It was pretty funny though. Sad, but funny, he died because of this ten pound cheaply made pony skull fell on his head. He was pretty cool after he got over it. He had a couple regrets so he couldn’t leave until those ends were tied. That gave me a few more minutes. Most of them just scream and die again, which instantly transports them away. Or just scream until fifteen minutes have passed. I just leave them there really. No point in listening to some mare bawling in your face when you could possibly find a cool drummer.”

“Oh, since you’re otherworldly and all. Could you tell me why my friend kissed me? I mean, you saw me before I died right? I look like bad sunburn and the victim of a cheese grater.”

“Oh that, erm. I could tell you the full story, but it wouldn’t be fun then. I’ll give you a little hint though. Let’s see, hmm. Ah, got one. Your hugs are incredibly soft.”

“That tells me nothing. Like zero help at all,” I deadpanned. Was he actually serious and thought that’s why or was he just joking?

“I’m just pulling your leg; I’m not actually giving you a hint. Because as I said it wouldn’t be fun.” It was the second option. So at least death wasn’t out of touch. “Well, sun’s almost gone the full way. It was real nice chatting to you. I hope we meet again soon. Otherwise it’d get boring. I’m going to be watching over you though. So don’t die stupidly like fall off a cliff or anything.” The world started to melt away until it was just a white box with a door. He got up from the chair and trotted out the door. It made a little bell chime then it all faded away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I groaned. Everywhere felt like I had bone marrow taken out, my horn especially. I was on my back, so I looked forwards. I really shouldn’t have looked forwards. There were at least twenty or thirty Cazadorables watching me. I tried to reach for my weapon when I found I had nothing. Not even my armour. At least I could run away faster then. I shot up onto my hooves and hoofed it out. I got progressively better as I galloped away. But I had nowhere to go, it was a trench like the one filled with raider and it was littered with a few Cazadorable corpses and a long drag mark through the middle. I kept on galloping through the trench when I heard the buzzing of wings behind me. I looked back, and the biggest Cazadorable was on my tail. It was at least six hooves high. I was getting better at running though. As though I was in a radiation pit. Which would explain my continuing status of alive. Eventually I felt the onset of radiation overdose. Which when you were a ghoul, was like Flash. Everything slowed as though you were under water. But you moved at faster than normal speed. The Cazadorable was left in the dirt and quickly flew back to its own cave.

I had absolutely no idea where I was. I looked back at the ditch. I realised I still had the communicator.

“Clover, Clover? What the fuck? Why am I in the middle of nowhere?” I heard nothing but low static in my ear. I looked up and around. Above the ditch I saw a cluster of buildings. Then a giant radar dish with parts of it missing. It was my best bet to finding out where I was. An old world map would be great, but a pipbuck would be even better. If I could just find honey caves or Pearl’s Haven, I’d be good. They were probably still held up there. I told Clover to wait at those two places if we ever got separated. I would make my way there and we would regroup. Now we had Frost who better have listened to Clover.

I trotted around the rad trench. The buildings were up on a hill and I saw a winding path slowly going up like a corkscrew. They had to put the longest path around didn’t they? I started going up the hill and was advancing to a low building. My rad powers still building. This place was some megaspell testing facility or something. The amount of rads was steadily increasing. I started hearing slowed voices. Female voices, female voices speaking in unison. Oh gee bloody whiz. The mighty alicorns pitted against an unarmed stallion. I hoped to sneak past them and was just about to when I bumped into something. My first thought was one of those invisible dog things which no-one had a name for. Then I hit my head on it and gulped. It was an alicorn.

“Sisters, we have an intruder. It was small and invisible. Rather the same as a nightstalker. Glory to the Goddess.”

“Do not worry sister. They are afraid to attack our might. It will die. Glory to the goddess” Phew, I’m not toasty cheese. I had sneaked round her; my speed increased to where only sound travelled. They moved as though they were made of ice. Then came my eyes, my eyes started to burn. It was so bright, then it toned down and I saw them. Blue alicorns, blue alicorns everywhere. I could only see the outline but it was good enough. I walked past the invisible statues and reached the top. Then I saw some of them moving about at normal speed. Green and purple ones thankfully. I wouldn’t be able to see them otherwise. Then everything started speeding up but the alicorns moved at the same speed throughout. The radiation was bleeding off faster than I’d hoped. Everything got incredibly bright again then faded to my original eyesight. I made a beeline for the closest building and found it unlocked. That would have sucked if it was. I had no lock picks and I can’t use precision telekinesis to perform the magic pick. I slipped inside. There was a plethora of weapons. Then there was a suit of Steel Ranger T-44g. I never thought I’d see one of those again. It had a hole in the top the perfect size for a unicorn horn. Unlike other models which required the unicorn to cut their horn off. They were incredibly costly to produce and were unreliable too. I spent about ten minutes putting it on when the nice blue HUD flashed up. Wait, blue? That was my colour and it was set to green as default, maybe some other stallion had them. Maybe this was the default colour and this place was the testing room for it. The walls were made of heavily reinforced concrete. There were racks everywhere with different weapons on each of them. Even a battle saddle. But that was for small weapons only. Ones I could easily levitate. Then I saw something big and shiny in the distance. I galloped over, the suit responding exactly like I thought it would. The HUD itself was still configuring, me being ‘dead’ might have confused its vital readings. A small message popped up in the HUD.

Welcome back, Sergeant Major Apples. You have been inactive for: 200 years.

ERROR: Sergeant Major Apples NOT FOUND. SEARCHING ‘Candy Apples’

Captain Candy Apples Found. How would you like me to refer to you Captain?

I couldn’t remember how to respond to this. I think it was voice controlled, but who knows who might be lurking around.

“Captain Apples, just Captain Apples,” I whispered.

‘Captain Apples’ selected. Hello Captain Apples. Are you in any relation to ‘Sergeant Major Apples’?

“Yes, we are the same people.” I don’t remember the ‘dumb’ AI being this annoying. It was pausing the final suit configuration process.

Captain Apples, how was your day?

“Fine, please go on standby and continue suit configuration process.” A small beep and the message flashed off to be replaced by a bar almost filled. I heard a ding and everything was set. It did show me as alive, and not a corpse. I just hoped it wouldn’t lock up at the most inopportune moment. I saw the shiny thing again. It was a lovely, lovely, missile launcher. I levitated it around my side and tried to fit it to the built in battle saddle. I heard a clank and it retracted to my side. I felt the weight slightly tip me and it made it hard to go and more than a trot. I tried to find another but couldn’t. Then I saw another shiny thing. I trotted over as quietly as this half ton beast could. It was glorious, not an anti-material rifle. But a high velocity sniper. More than enough for ten alicorns. I slung that across my back onto the magnetic seal. I tried to find another weapon to balance the launcher but all I found was a 44. Magnum and a 12.7 submachine gun. Both added to the other side. I probably still couldn’t gallop at full speed but as fast as I could do in this suit anyway.

I found a locked box as I was heading out. I had to search for some bobby pins but I managed to find three. It was a pretty simple lock. Like the one you would find in a cheap door. In it though was a plethora of ammunition. Even some fluid for my Dragon. I dumped it all in the ammo slots and I waited for it to sort and place them around. When you wore this suit it was like you were a big ammo rack. I found and packed everything I could into the armour’s storage and prepared to face the alicorns. I rushed in doing it and made quite a lot of noise. I looked at the door, took a deep calming breath, and trotted over to open it.

The door opened, I really wish it hadn’t. There were two purple alicorns waiting outside. I activated my newly recovered S.A.T.S and shot the first with the 44. and the second with the 12.7. Without their shields they dropped like stones. The other two had time to activate their shields and I backpedalled back inside. They galloped after me and had to drop their shields as they went in. The 44. and 12.7 fired again. Four alicorns within thirty seconds. That’s a new academy record soldier!

“Come at me you bastards!” Is what I would have shouted heroically, but it came out as ‘wrbleweubteesrd’ which blew my badassery out the water. Then the wall exploded. They stepped in with their shields still raised, my small weapons pinging off their shields. The alicorns started charging up a spell, one green, one purple. The green one appeared to be feeding energy into the purple one. The purple one’s horn had an overglow set over it. Then one over that, then another, then another. I turned away, blew a hole in the wall next to me and jumped out as the biggest beam of pure energy I ever saw vaporized everything of where I was. It stopped for only a second at the reinforced concrete before it burst through. Then every other alicorn in a three mile vicinity flew over. The majority was blue. Which had weak spells and relied on ambushes. I started firing everything while backpedalling again. This time towards another building. It looked important and big. Two stories of solid concrete. But with the last encounter with a hyper beam of death. I was going to be in and out as soon as possible. One alicorn dropped their shield in my onslaught and quickly was blown to smithereens. Another did the same as I reached the building, a quick 44. to the face fixed her problem of living. I kept my submachine gun firing and flipped over the rocket launcher and aimed for the door. It blew open and I galloped inside. I wasn’t tired at all. It was probably a combination of the leftover radiation and the massive amount of adrenaline coursing through my system. I turned and sprinted inside. I levitated a few of the frag mines I ‘acquired’ and placed them at the floor like breadcrumbs, deadly breadcrumbs. Follow that you flying rats!

Door to your right my boy. Open it and gallop as fast as you can. You will reach the trench again. Keep running until you are free of the alicorns. They cannot leave this place yet.

I looked to my right and sure enough there was a door. The suit was somehow self-aware and psychic. What are you? I thought as I galloped to the door. I smashed into it and it snapped open. Right into another alicorn, bowling her over.

I’m the stallion you had a chat with a bit back.

Death was in my unreliable suit. Great, the Grim Reaper was actually in my unreliable suit. He did say he was watching and my life was interesting. So I trusted him and kept galloping until I got to the edge of the hill. There was a sheer drop of at least fifty meters into a place infested with Cazadorables. Which should be named ‘Mean Motherfuckers’ in honour of their displeasure at everything alive.

Go on, jump! Do you want to face that death ray again? I’m sure something will catch you.

Death was telling me to jump, to my own death. Well, it’s that or assured death, I reasoned. I jumped, yelling as I picked up speed in my lead zeppelin. Just before I hit the ground something squishy broke my fall. It was one of the Mean Motherfuckers. I fell into the pit and sunk slightly. The bowl shape combined with the trench reminding me of a really long thermometer. I rolled over and sprang up onto my hooves. I ground pounded as I felt the first shockwaves of small spells being fired down. I heard roars and the Mean Motherfuckers charged up the cliff to attack the group of things alive. Instead of the one pony who was alive.

Okay, unorthodox, but good. I’m leaving now, I have to go and say sorry to the reaper of the Cazadorables, or ‘Mean Motherfuckers’ as your calling them now.

I gave Death silent thanks as I left. Death liked me, so I didn’t die, rather ironic really. I felt the radiation start to up my systems and I sprinted for the end of the trench. I heard screams of fury and pain from both the Mean Motherfuckers and the alicorns. A stray spell hit me in the side and luckily avoided the sniper rifle. It, however, hit the submachine gun which promptly exploded and sent bullets everywhere. Including inside the battle saddle, in the armour, then into me where it ricocheted around but the wounds it was causing were healed up quickly by the radiation still present. The cries were growing more and more distant until I could hardly hear them as the entrance grew closer. Just as I was about to leave, a purple alicorn dropped in front of me and dug in the dirt. The shield went up before I could fire my killing blow and it simply bounced off her shield. I started unloading my missile launcher as I levitated up my rifle. I could see the cuts on her body and her shield was more transparent and flickering. It failed her completely and she dropped to the ground. Heaving and coughing blood. I stood over her, blocking out the glare of the radar dish up above.

“M-mercy,” she said. Oh hell no, you ain’t getting a single bit you remorseless monster. I unhooked my revolver and pushed it up against her muzzle.

“Did I kill five of you, or six? That’s the question that should be running through your head. -” I pushed the gun against her harder and made her neck bend. She looked me in the eye. “So, do ya feel lucky, punk? Do ya?” She tried to whisper something but a bullet interrupted that. Coming out the other side with a large amount of brain and skull with it. “Could’ve sworn it was six. Oh well, she was remorseless anyway. I’m sure she’ll get over it one day.” I placed the 44. back in its proper place as well as the sniper and dropped off the wrecked submachine gun. I looked through my inventory until I found a ten millimetre and that took its rightful place by my side. It was oddly heavier than the 12.7 even though it fired a much smaller bullet. The balance was in complete equilibrium. Unlike my mind; which was still thinking of meeting Death, getting help from Death, then cheating Death. He was rather kind soul in retrospect. But I still couldn’t wrap my head around why he chose me or why I didn’t have a heart attack as soon as I met him.

I checked my map and said, “Death, you there bud? I’m going to be trottin’ for about six days to a week. Because somepony dropped me off at the edge of the world in the middle of nowhere.” I accused Death for this. I guess maybe he helped me because he sent me here. For fun I guess, couldn’t blame him even though it was annoying. He was immortal, must get a bit boring and mentally scarring watching the raiders invent new and more painful ways to rape anything that moved.

Yes, I’m here. Also no, it wasn’t my fault you got dropped off here! It was the Café! I swear on my creator’s unlife that it was not me. I have no part in where it drops first timers because it isn’t supposed to drop them at all. The Wade guy, first time he died? Ended up in Germaney. Wait, no, not Germaney, Germaney. Hah, very funny two hundred year dead scientists. Put an auto correction in. Okay, fine, let's spell it out then. G-E-R-M-A-N-EY. Sigh, gosh darnit. Well, it’s that country without the second ‘E’

“Slow down please, I’m not a super reader. I haven’t read anything in over fifty years. Wait, how did you know I thought you plopped me over here?”

Because I can read your thoughts. You didn’t have to say anything. This suit is thought controlled, not voice controlled. Ah, explains why it responded as soon as I finished talking. It had a slower processing time than its descendants and was a second late in a reply because it was the first to have thought process technology. Modified off of voice processors. So a bit slow on the uptake. I am actually a bit surprised you didn’t suspect your new pal back home. Well, no, I could see you were intelligent the moment you appeared in the café. But usually they at least blame someone else before me about their death. But their death is scripted to happen at a certain time. You and your folk don’t have that time. You ‘die’ at your scripted times. You get a bit ill then you live again. So, it’s a nice surprise when you pony’s visit.

“I’m just going to keep talking, maybe start thinking when say; raiders are trying to murder me again. Then I can jack the pipbuck and throw this suit away after Cloves is done with it. Then I can become a giant doom lord of fire and rain. Well, not permanent rain. Because then there couldn’t be any fire. Or I can become a farmer and a food lord and monopolise the food business. Fun thing about monopoly, which is a game, is that you should always pick the fancy hat. Always bring a fancy hat piece. Because one of your friends might not have a fancy hat and you’ll be sad because you couldn’t get Canterlot Way and the Fillydelphia railways and you go bankrupt because no-one lands on the Ace Trick streets. But I’m rambling again and you probably don’t want to hear it. Unless you do, at which point you could listen to the stuff I did.”

You are a very odd man indeed. I picked the right one, I guess being the embodiment of death influences your chances.

“Yes, and I’m going to depose Discord as leader of insanity. I wonder whether he’s dead. He probably isn’t, probably he’s the scumbag who stole my fancy white suit which I wore to my final dinner. But it wasn’t final because I got dragged away to see my friends. Sorry about that, Death.” I kept on trotting in the barren wasteland, nothing but a blue map to light my path home. The dust spinning in the wind like little tornadoes. They fade away as soon as they are born. Mortal people are the same. Sad really, you get to know them. Then watch as their body rejects the blessing bestowed. You watch their legs become weak and their hair to go grey, you watch as their organs quit and they take their final breath. It’s comforting they’re cared for by a wonderful, nice, reaper. Not the fairy-tale of a horrible wraith.

Could you call me Mort? ‘Death’; it sounds rather imposing, and final. You certainly defy the ‘final’ part.

“What? You want me to call you Mort? As though saying it in Prench makes it sound better. Might as well be called Muerte but that used to be criminal. Now being called a madman usually is cause for a bullet through the eyes. As is pretty much anything because ponies are dicks nowadays.”

Hmm, there are some heroes, few and far between. But from what I’ve seen of you, you are not a guy who I’d want to be on the wrong side of. Your fate is undecided so you could change. I cannot see into your future like other ponies such as your fellows. I can only see a small bit into the past as well whereas I could find out who your buddies first amoeba is. Peculiar case you ‘mutants’. As though radiation prevents me from seeing.

“You think I’m evil? Well, certainly a soft-hearted-devil but not evil. I’m not a pony of the wastes. Condemned to live out the rest of their tiny lives. I could find some place. An ‘Eden’ of sorts. A place where there was no ‘kill or be killed’, no crazy murderous ponies and cybernetics. Just a colony of self-sufficient ponies like Clover.” Death was pretty blunt in how he put things. The cheery salesman voice which continued in my head carried him through, however. So I guess it was down to his charm. Trotting two-hundred miles sucks. It’ll take me at least three days to get back, probably four.

Well then, you’re a quick marcher. You’d need to trot at about nine kilometres an hour. You’d be dead on your hooves by the time you get back.

“Ghoul powers, we draw energy from the ambient rads in the atmosphere. It amounts to about three thousand calories in food chemical energy. I’d be fine, getting about a thousand more calories than your average pony does. That’s why you usually see ghouls sprint like Lightning Bolt. Also the limiter on your muscles before adrenaline is released, well, not being there.

“Enough of narcissism, I wonder if there’s any poorly armed raiders I can kill, nothing like mounting a skull on your armour to keep away the bad guys. Normal ponies would, however, see a giant hulking tank in pony form trotting somewhere. Self-preservation is a very strong thing. Maybe I could save a pony too, because the whole skull mounting sounds silly now. Saving ponies with a skull necklace isn’t the best image for a Steel Ranger. Speaking of killing, my sixth sense is having a case of the shakes. Not super wacky though, so no more hit squads or whatever. Probably a cute li’l radroach instead. I really want a radroach as a pet.”

I can tell, but as far as I can see on your map, there’s no raider camps you will pass. That isn’t cheating either; I just remember where everypony dies. But no-one’s died around here for a few years for some reason. Well, raiders don’t count. They get put straight on the naughty list and sent to their unbearable torture. Which is usually something to do with being civilised.

“Well, that would be fitting. Mad hatters the lot, try and gnaw your legs off when you have steel armour plating. But, that’s raiders, are there any camps on my route of other unscrupulous persons who then need to become earthworm feed?" I said. Three days of sightseeing some dust and rocks was not something that I wanted.

Well there is one camp of ponies that I know of. They aren't very large but they will be, interesting, to say the least.

"Could you please stop with the endless teasing? It's hard enough being bored to tears on my trek back. A straight answer would make a certain pony very happy. Yeah I should be grateful for your assistance in me avoiding meeting you in pony.  But, I am an impatient stallion who gets nasty surprises a lot.  I'd rather be prepared beforehand when I’m going to have a chance of meeting you.”

Ha, I have much more important things to do. They’re all boring too, and I know you hate boring, so do I. Now it’d be boring to tell you so they get annihilated without them knowing. But fine, I’ll give you a real hint this time. ‘Fall from grace.’

“Real hint my ass, stop making me think. I was in the military, I don’t think, I just do.” Images raced through my mind. Each one showing me why I was wrong, a pretty mare, a wounded soldier, Floss’ death.

You see don’t you, a soldier won’t feel, but you aren’t a soldier now. You feel the hurt of everything past, the weight of your sins. Did you know you have to carry the souls of those you have wronged? Think of how many you have simply mindlessly disposed of like the army colt you are. Then think of all the brothers in arms you never saved. You are split down the middle with a grey area in between. You are fractured, but one. You must bear the weight of your past wrongs.

“I’m a strong stallion. The weight of my sins could not compare to those committed by others. Those who disregarded lives and thought of numbers and stratagem are the ponies that I shall see crumpled beneath. The souls who I’ve saved, the ones who I am saving.” The cheery salesman voice had vanished, the ominous voice that was told in legend replaced it.

That’s just it, stratagem. How many ponies could you have saved if only you had intervened? How many more ponies would be in a stable, living out their happy lives? How many would become heroes of the wastes? How many ponies could have changed the world? You erased everything they built with the thought of ‘I’m just a lowly pony, no-one would listen to me.’ You say you are a monster then defend your actions. What are you inside? A hero, or another pony claimed by insanity? Even in the war you were a monster. I’ve met people who knew you. Apparently you were one of the people who would drag a. injured zebra over and publicly execute her in front of her kind. One who would use a dead trooper as a meat shield. I put that all behind me, but now it’s surging out like a broken dam. You stuck in my mind for a while. The zebras had a name for you. They called you ‘The Moon’s Child’. A bit offensive to dear Luna, but that’s their beliefs. Possibly the reason the war started too. But, those accounts I said, they were from zebras. Not your own soldiers. Your own soldiers thought you a stallion with only one thing in his mind, destruction. If the war hadn’t ended in the way it did you’d be in jail for war crimes. No matter how much good you wanted to be. You aren’t a nice stallion, but you were also regarded as a hero by some. Jumping in front of guns to save a zebra child, choking your own members to save a wounded zebra, dragging a pony back through no-stallion’s-land to medics, running into a burning building to carry out wounded. You are a nice stallion, but you were a ruthless one. This goes on and on, and on. Your sins only rivalled by your gifts. Those ponies you saved? A few of them had foals that got into the stables. Some of the pegasi you saved had children who were executed for rebellion against the Enclave. Nothing’s black and white but the absolutes, we live in the grey, stepping one way or the other. Good or evil, moral or immoral, saviour or killer? I have lived eons, I have seen many ponies wither and die. I have seen many prosper, forever remembered. I have seen some simply fade away, nopony caring. Ponies remembered you, they faded, withered and died in stables. Some became great ponies. Some became shrewd and twisted. Every pony you have wronged, every pony you have given hope. Your compassion only compared with your hate. In twenty years you were moulded by war. Then the wasteland changed you, only slightly. But still, and it made you a kinder person. What I see now is a stallion who just wants the world to be the way it used to be. No killing, everything sunshine and rainbows and all the other nice stuff. All in harmony. But your sins shall outweigh your achievements by the thousands. Ponies that sit and idly watch the world go by are the worst. Because they content themselves with the old lie of “I’m just one pony, what can I do?” One pony saved the world, one pony tried to destroy it. Battles were waged, one pony. One pony sacrificed themselves so others may live in harmony.

“Who? I’ve never heard of such a ‘great’ sacrifice. You’re spinning me along, shoving my past into my face! I, don’t, like it!” My voice defensive, angry like a cornered animal. What right does Death have to call me a murderer? Hardly a saint himself!

Starswirl, he gave his life to magic. Everypony knows he did it. Most think him a scholar of immense power. But he did it to protect ponies. Developing these mystical bubbles of impenetrable energy, called ‘shields.’ The Everfree forest used to roam wild throughout the land. The reservation it is now is hardly a shadow of its former self. This mystical thing called bending mana. Or as it is known as now, conjuration. The magic blades sliced through the wood like butter. The manticores couldn’t get through their newly found shields. Before it was only mountains that were safe. The brittle hoofholds unable to support the heavy creatures and the air too thin for their wings to lift. They were beaten back along with timberwolves, dragons, parasprites, and cockatrices. Beaten back to only to the very minimum to spare their lives. Starswirl died alone, unloved, uncredited. When he came to me he wasn’t bitter, accepting me as an old friend as his body burned in the fires of damnation for what he had done. Why do you think the princesses feared death? They carry the world upon their shoulders. Their atrocities rivalled by none. They screamed as I watched them burn. Starswirl laughed as he burned, a monster of circumstance. Kill or be killed.

“They deserve their agony. One such as Starswirl was protecting his people. They were protecting their kingdom. If I carry my sins to the maw of Tartarus, so be it. But I’ll not go down without a fight!” My defiance raged like a tsunami. Never ending, always burning. I defied the logic of numbers, I defied the corruption of the wasteland, I defied insanity, and I would defy Tartarus to my last breath. I was still angry, but not at the Reaper. I was angered by the princesses. While Luna tried to change the world. She failed, like she did when she became Nightmare Moon. She has to carry the weight of every soldier lost.

I think we’d better stop the ‘what are you inside’ and go on to greener pastures. A morose Death is a sad Equestria. Let’s talk about other stuff. Or I just sit and watch you battle your way back home.

“You said there was nothing down this route!” I accused him of lying. He was a crafty stallion.

Oi, I said there were no camps, I didn’t say anything about ‘environmental hazards.’ Actually, scrap the whole boring talking. This thing has a radio! I have a couple songs I could download onto this. Don’t ask how, magic. Ah, a new station? True Equestrian Radio? Hmm, my tunes can wait. This sounds cool.

A smooth mare’s voice boomed in my ears. It was akin to someone smashing thousands of Neighpal gongs right next to me. I recoiled as though the sound pushed me away. “Turn it off damnit!” I shouted through the din of the thorough ear fucking I was receiving.

Oops, sorry, I’ll turn it down. There, better?

“Yeah, thanks, now I’ll keep trotting and we both listen to this station. First I’ve had a constant radio in decades. Sounds good quality too.”

Yes, now hush. I think the song just finished.

How ya doin’ colts and fillies! This is True Equestrian Radio comin’ atcha live from a secure bunker under Neighvarro!

That was a hit from an up and coming singer, Dean Martino. His voice could do a duet with Sweetie Belle ah think.

We heard a couple reports of a kerfuffle an hour back in the mare masher’s military masonry about a ‘giant energy lance’ going straight through the mountain. What d’ya think the bastards are doin’? Ah think they’re makin’ some kinda doomsday spell; the balefire that rained upon us like Tartarus! Now, classified’s, let’s see, hmm? We got an expedition job, not to just anywhere, the Crystal Kingdoms! You guys are gonna have to wait a while. This apparently, is just to ‘Inform any adventurers and knees.’ Ok, mister oddity, moving on. Ahem, we got a couple stallions up at Blackreach wanting some mercs or hitponies for somethin’. Didn’t give me any info, but just the mention of hitponies is enough to know it’s something I don’t wanna know. In heavy showroom there’s a stallion who wants, radscorpion or manticore tails? The radscorpion is two-fifty caps and the manticore is a whopping eight-oh-oh! Oh, oh oh ho! That’s liquid gold right there! Two-fifty is nice but eight-hundred, even better. Now, I’ll be back on the hour, but until then, have some sweet remixed tunes by DSKOLTEK, with Escape featuring Bright Lights, a galloping melody for our wasteland couriers. Thank ya boys, and thank you Equestria! Goodbye everypony!

“Wow, under Neighvarro? I swear that place was locked tighter than a nun in a brothel. But radiomares can get anywhere and everywhere so; I’m not surprised. At least I’ll have something else than your constant jabbering on the way home.” I smirked, if it worked I would have known in just a moment. The blue text filled my comm bar yet again.

Hey! My jabbering is informative and lifesaving thank you very much! At least I don’t have to deal with you bringing me down.

“You sly bastard. Now, go talk to ‘Wade’ or whatever his name is. I need to get home. But, I also need to kill shit. Because no matter how much wasteland is between me and them. I’m still bringing something techie back, not just the ancient suit.” I kept trotting. A whole lot of time until I could see Clover and Frost again. I vowed that if Frost hurt Clover, I would perform zebrican voodoo on his stallionhood forever. It was at this point it suddenly rained heavily. With full body airtight armour it was like being back as a colt. Watching the rain streak down my window as I heard the soft patter of the drops. I always found it comforting, especially with my pa’s lighter in my hooves. I heard the slow roll of thunder as I trotted through the degrading ground. Slowly churning into mud. I needed to seek shelter soon. I checked my map and a kilometre off my left there was a small square that simply said; ‘SSH’. “Well, it has a location, so it should have a roof too.” I started trotting towards it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I approached the building and it looked to be made of concrete, there was a double door leading into the building. The rain obscured much of the complex. Leading me to believe it was a small factory or something similar. It was getting very hard to move at this point, the weight of the armour sucking me in like quicksand. I trudged through the mud and reached the stairs. It looked rather like a grey brick because of the rain. I opened the door and stepped inside. There was no light; at all. I activated my headlamps and the bright beams pierced through the darkness. Illuminating a dusty room. There was a large desk in front of me with a bell on the side. It appeared to be a hotel; there were little boxes, keycard sized. Some glinted with rusted metal still inside. I trotted over to the bell and hit it, expecting nothing. A small maintenance droid opened a door behind the desk and floated over to me. They look rather like a Sponyik with three arms. Its floating talisman sputtered out at times for a second before it restarted. It looked just as though it was bobbing heavier now and then. It picked up a key from a random pigeon hole and hoofed it to me.

“Here you go sir, your office the sixth door on the left after the third right.” The bot floated over the desk and led me through a door next to the desk. I counted one right, two, and then three as we turned. Six doors later and I was in a dingy office. The droid however, did not leave. A Scottish accent sounded through the droid. “Alright matey! So, you need to get yuir sorry arse over here! This place is a flippin’ poke! You won’t be able to get in yet though. Needs a three stallion activation hoofpress. This place used to hold the best weaponry in Equestria and I! Soapy McCloud! Was a proud Gun Galloper until these blasted droids murked mosta my team! So get me oot!” The sound cut to static and I heard the soft blow of a Dragon and the charge of a plasma weapon. As I extended my battlesaddle I heard hundreds of voices; all mechanic; all insane. The maintenance droid stood no chance, hardly armed. I needed to get out, I didn’t have enough ammo to destroy all of them. I turned the radio up. Apparently the song that was playing was called ‘That Same Old Song.’ The same old song, the same old situation. Few against many, retreat advised. I stuck some of the magic mines I found back in the alicorn base onto the walls before galloping for the exit. I followed the instructions backwards. Third right after leaving the door on the left. Where I ended up was not the exit. It was the point when I realised this wasn’t your average everyday deathtrap. That was; advanced deathtrap. I turned the radio up even more as the droids increased in number and volume. I heard the talisman destabilising magic crackle and a few muted clangs as some droids fell. The gangway I was galloping across, after opening the door I turned to, looked like a zebrican triple max prison! Cells filled with skeletons. Picks strewn about. All manner of horrible devices near the cells. The clang of my metal against the walkways sounded heavy like the beat of my heart. I turned the music back down and the intensity of the robot kill choir increased. Many a robotic taunt of ‘zebrican scum’ and patriotic lies. I heard the door be ripped off its hinges and plasma bolts filled the air around me. Blue blobs just inches from my armour. The catwalk was a long one, but I saw a turning point and an exit. I galloped harder, the catwalk started swaying due to the stress being put on it. It started swaying rapidly and I heard a tear in the metal. I galloped harder than I ever had in my life but it just wasn’t enough I felt the metal grate turn sideways and I grabbed onto a railing next to me. It was bending as I shimmied my way across. The air still filled with the blue bolts but my luck held as none of them hit me. It was then I realised they were stun bolts. I could take a hit from a plasma bolt but a stun bolt would lock my armour and kill me by fall of at least two-hundred metres. One of the stun bolts hit the railing next to me. It felt like a taser. But the armour held on and I got over to the turning point. It was ripped away from the railing. I needed to take a leap of faith. I became aware of all the bolts flinging around me. Some passing close enough to spark against the armour. I jumped. The free-fall terrified me and I forced my eyes to stay open. I hit the railing and bounced. My hoof found the metal grate just as I was about to fall to my death. My other forehoof joined the first and I pulled myself up. I ran to the door and saw a hoof scanner. I jammed my foreleg in. The bolts splashing against the protected grate was very noticeable now. I heard a ping and the door opened. The illusion of wood faded and revealed a metal slab on hinges. The thing looked four inches thick! I galloped inside as it closed behind me. My luck finally failing as I felt the armour start to move like glue. Errors filled the screen including one I never saw in the testing labs. I bit on the manual escape, which was basically the battlesaddle firing grip, and was thrown out of the armour. I lay there for a minute before getting up. The robot screams leaving slowly. The room around me was filled with strongboxes. Very, very strong boxes. However, my buttstamp wasn’t for nothing. Eventually they revealed their secrets to me after getting the bobby pins, and everything else, from the suit. The place I was in was the weapon confiscation room and armoury at the same time. A plethora of gleaming weapons on racks and less so in the boxes. I was being dropped into one gun store to the next.

“Thanks Santa, first you give me my supersuit, then you give me an armoury. What have I done to get on your good list?” I laughed as I said it. For one night I was free of any nightmarish creatures, any rabid drones. All sealed away by four inches of thick metal. Then I looked at the door, what I saw made my joy evacuate. There was no hoof scanner. The only way out was a door titled ‘Questioning.’ At this point I realised it was a prisoner of war labour camp. Which meant high security. Because it really was a triple max. “Fuck you Santa.” I was going to have to go through an interrogation room, for zebra’s. Most likely filled with deadly robots who will try to inflict pain rather than death. Forever trapping me in hell. I sighed before turning back to the strongboxes. There were a couple shivs after looking through them, just what I needed. I floated the sharpest one up and positioned it at my floating rib. “Fuck my life, really, completely fuck and shit on it.” I pushed the blade through and collapsed on the floor. I vaguely heard screaming then passing out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I and my colthood friends, Snowflake and Brick, were playing in the Fillydelphia national reserve. A giant expanse of meadows. We were playing tag in the fields. We would always try to lie down in the grass to avoid each other. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Snowflake always had an eye for detail but was never as fast as me, or as agile as Brick. However odd the name and ability combo may seem it was true. Brick was a name given by his father, a builder. Snowflake, her name given by her weather duty father. I was a cousin of the Apple Family and as such went over every year. I always wanted to bring my friends over so we could play in the fields. But Granny Smith said the reunion was a family only thing. But we were still playing tag. I was hiding in one of the trees. Snowflake copied me, a few rows behind me. I heard leaves crunch below me. If you were caught in the trees, you would have to come down and stand there for ten seconds while they ran away. He looked up but I was covered by branches. He stood there, staring at my covered form. As though there was something he couldn’t quite see. My heart was racing. Tag was the most adrenaline junkie thing you could do at age five. He turned away and his hoofsteps slowly faded away. Then we both heard a scream coming from Snowflakes tree. I heard a crunch and I slid down the tree as I raced over to her. Brick came shortly after. She was lying there, not moving with a slow pool under her head like a red halo. Brick knelt down to her and lay his head over her neck. His ears perked up as he said, “She’s not dead! B-b-b-but what are we going to do?” He was openly crying. I just felt numb.

“We’re going to carry her back. We’re going to get her to ma and pa. Then they’re going to wake her up and we’ll be okay,” I said emotionlessly. I lifted her up, partly with my magic, partly with my hooves, and hefted her onto my back. I stumbled around before regaining my balance and started galloping home. Brick was behind me, I could still hear his sobbing. I didn’t feel numb anymore, I needed to be strong for him though. I blinked back my tears and put an extra burst of speed. I felt damp on my side where her head lay. I saw ma and pa with Brick’s and Snowflake’s parents. They were on a picnic cloth eating sandwiches and laughing merrily. Then when they saw me, they screamed. Instantly Snowflake’s parents ran up to me and I pushed past them and lay her on the cloth. Her parents doubled back and collapsed at Snow’s hooves. I inherited my stoney personality from my dad and it showed. He lifted her up with his magic and ran back into town. I began to feel myself growing as though I was fully aged. Death appeared beside me.

“I’m so sorry, but you know what happens next. As do I. Your dad accepted it, she was unconscious the duration and had a dream of electric sheep flying across a field. She recently got the book and was going to read it tonight. Just like her last books, she’d pull the cover over her head and read it late into the night with a lamp beside her. Your dad had something for you. Your mother gave it to him the day before he succumbed. With his final motions he passed it onto you. I saw through his eyes that day. I made sure he’d see you as his last. You stood there, stony as you gripped the lighter.”

“Can’t I just have a different dream? Not this one, over and over. It still feels fresh as yesterday.” I stopped galloping behind my dad as I heard a timberwolf growl. He lay Snowflake down as he tried to defend against the timberwolf. I heard pained screams of both him and the beast. I sat on my rump and concentrated, a spell to blast away the monster. I felt my horn burning but I pushed through. The fireball released and struck the timberwolf. I watched it burn as my father lay there. Deep cuts and torn flesh. They said the timberwolves lived way back into the forest. They said they never came out this far. My mother galloped past me and I trotted to my father. I was back as a colt again. My tiny legs easily wrapped by his. My mother hoofed him something and he looked at it before giving it to me, a lighter. I still held his hoof as his eyes closed. They opened again for but a second. Focused on me, they closed one, final time. It was the first time I cried. I buried my head into his chest and wept. His coat staining with my tears as my mother rubbed my back. She herself was quietly sobbing.

“Daddy, no daddy, no please! Don’t go! I need you! We were gonna go flying kites tomorrow! Then the next, we were gonna go to the arcade with Brick, then after that! After that we’d go to the reunion and we’d play apple bobbing together! No! No no no!” I slammed my free hoof into his chest again and again. Waiting for an off and him to wake up. I hardly noticed Snowflake. Brick was next to me, his Dad with Snowflake. He hugged me and tore me away from my Dad, I tried to scramble back to him, but Brick was too strong. “Lemme go an’ see my pa!” I screamed.

“You can’t, he’s gone, to a better place. Fields and meadows forever! He’ll be with his grandparents! It’s okay, I know how it hurts. My ma died!” I saw the world start to fade away. A burial flashed in my mind. Then nothing but white. Death re-appeared. His coat and hat still present.

“You can look at it from another perspective. Sure, you lost your dad and your friend. But you got a new one and your old friend, he became your brother.” I glared at him, panting as though I ran a marathon. He never knew what it was like to lose family. It crushed you completely, the only friends he had were immortal, and so he couldn’t feel that pain either.

“I, I lost my pa! I lost my idol! I lost one of my best friends! You expect me to see from another perspective! No!”

“You don’t need to, but you and Brick. You became brothers because of it. Just remember that. You may have forgotten him entirely by the time the war came. What does that hold? Life is a windy road my friend. It has its ups, even in its downs. Now wake up dammit. You have an Alcatraz to break out of.” He disappeared as the white faded to black. Then to reality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I looked down onto the floor. Mixed with my ichor was a wet floor. I’d been crying. Y’know when I said ghoulponies can’t sleep? That was a lie, we can, we just don’t want to. I pulled out what I needed from my chest. Buck, Ultradash, Flash, Hydra, an empty stimpack, and Wild Pegasus. This concoction was the only way for a ghoul to get well and truly smashed. It is still needed to be injected through the eye however. I closed the crate like strongbox I procured the shiv from and floated the Wild Pegasus to my mouth, taking a swig of the sweet liquid. After a quarter was downed I set it on the table. I dropped three pills of Buck then poured the Flash into the Hydra mixture. I heated both until the Hydra/Flash container started expanding then sprayed the Ultradash into the whisky and sealed the bottle until the fire from the Dash burnt the oxygen away then reheated the Hydra/Flash combo, when it started expanding again I pierced the can’s top and forced the compressed gas into the bottle before sealing it again. I gave it a good hard shake and set it on the table. I just needed the Hydra to condense. I rifled through some of the boxes. Only finding a Stealthbuck. If I got that Pip-Buck I’d be needing that. If I didn’t bring it, well, Merpony’s Law would come into effect. Then as I approached the gun rack I saw a smaller box. Smaller however, did not mean easier. Three pins broke before it opened. Inside was the best thing ever. A claidheamh mòr with smokey blue lapis inlay and a styled tartan grip. It was like Santa apologised and gave me a present again. I ran my magic along the blade. It was made of Centurite, the incredibly rare metal made by dead dragons as they fuse themselves with their treasure at death. The hardest metal in the entirety of the universe. They had a block of it in the Fillydelphia museum. The last remaining piece of the dragon Sir Canterlot slain to pave way to make Canterlot. As the mountain it resided on was the one Canterlot was built around. When he died it was renamed in honour of him.

The claymore was the most majestic thing I had ever seen. Centurite is a combo of a tint of the dragon’s scale colour and the ivory white of the metal. The dragon itself was most likely a grey as it appeared to be gleaming platinum. The box it was in wasn’t any pushover either. Royal Purple velvet with mahogany. The strongbox it was inside needed to be purged for its obstruction of beauty. To think you could have hidden this glory from the world for ages, maybe even forever. It also had a sheath. Brown faux leather with gold inlay. I lifted it out and saw it had a sling. I put it back in the box and shut the box. I levitated the strongbox, which I realised was a protective container as it was lined with cotton, onto the table next to the ammo racks. I searched the boxes for a strap and then the gun racks. The thing you looked for was always in the other place. The gun rack of plasma rifles all had straps on them. I glanced back over to the Wilder Pegasus and saw steam. It was going to be ready soon. I gave it another hard shake then set it back on the box. The plasma stun rifle slings were easily shorn off. Now I needed a way to tie the strap to the box. I heated the box then fused the strap to it. Then I realised I would be coming back here. So I retrieved the sheath and sword and levitated them around me. It felt weighty, but not pulling me around as I gave a few test gallops in the cramped room. Only twenty metres long and fifteen wide, thinned to about twelve with the blocks and locks. I stopped at the gun rack and noticed that there weren't any cases of armour.  Not even a dirty prison rag. I was going to need that drink more than I thought. I looked over my shoulder and saw only wisps of steam, it was ready. The problem with the drink was that the mixture both dissipated over time and it was likely to explode the moment someone touched it. I pulled out a stun bolt rifle, two pistols, and a cool cowcolt like holster.

If I want peace, I should prepare for war