I was stirred awake by a familiar face. The faint voice was calling my name.

“Ranger! Ranger! Wake up!”

“Felix? Felix, what’s going on?” I opened my eyes to see my dragon friend, Felix, standing on my chest. The small, orange sea serpent slapping me with his two mutated tails. He was otherwise normal in every sense, but his only mutation was his tails, a result of the radiation and taint given off by the balefire bombardment years ago.

I looked around my house; it was all in ruins with a large hole in the roof, cracked, grey walls, dirty carpeting, and crumbling furniture. Yup, just the same old hell hole everypony lives in… That’s the Apocalypse for ya…

My father burst through the door, the red pegasus with green mane alerting us to the danger, “Ranger! Ranger! Get up! The raiders are here again! Grab your rifle! Felix you too!”

He was an average sized stallion with a long and unkempt mane. With the personality fit for a watchdog, he was the shepard of our small settlement out here on the southern coast of Hokkaido, the large island that used to be part of the magnificent nation of Neighpon. We called our town New Trotakomai, the old one kinda crumbled apart after the Great War.

“Gotcha dad! C'mon Felix! Ready up!”

“Rick, I've only got a clip and a half. Gotta make it count,” Felix quickly informed as he grabbed his G36 rifle.

“Dammit, I know how that feels. 20 shots for my G3...” I examined my rifle to check its condition. It was worn after 200 years of post apocalyptic abuse, but it was such a reliable weapon and I fixed it up any chance I got. I loaded the fresh handloaded .308 rounds into my magazine with my unicorn magic, the brown tint matching my coat. I slid up from my recumbent position and floated my G3 battle rifle in combat stance. My hazel eyes shifted back and forth for signs of my father. I saw him clenching his M16 in his wings. He gave a few hoof signals to me.

“Alright Ranger! Get into position. Stay frosty everypony! Felix you too!” Dad pointed back and forth.

“I might need some ammo. I've only got 45 shots and my rifle is falling apart.”

“No time to replace that, I'll pass you a mag. We'll get something from the raiders once this is over. Quick! Here they come!”

And there they are, these sick bastards will kill, rape, and take anyone for their own pleasure, or for their stomachs… Damn cannibals… Raiders almost always had guns, but usually just small handguns or weak hunting rifles, but for some reason they had more advanced weapons as time progressed. They had assault rifles, sub machine guns, and few were armed with light machine guns. This time was different though. I saw one of them with an RPG and a lot of rockets in his saddle.

“RPG! Get down!” Dad ducked under his sandbags as the rocket flew up into one of our guard towers, killing our sniper and spilling her gore all over the ground as what was left of her fell.

“Holy shit! How did they get that?!” Felix exclaimed in shock.

“We're sitting ducks over here! Our barricades can't stop RPGs. Fall back! Fall back!” Dad and the others started to sprint for the abandoned laboratory that served as our bunker. I provided some cover fire while Felix helped get them to safety. I grabbed some ammo off a dead raider pony as well as a sniper rifle. It was a PSG, and luckily for me it fired the same ammo as my G3. I loaded five rounds into its small clip and climbed on top of an abandoned house. I sighted the raider with the launcher on the first downward mil-dot and fired. The bullet went into his eyeball and it took a chunk of his skull with it. Another raider tried to go for the launcher but he was intercepted by my .308 bullet which went into his neck, severing his head from his body. When I heard somepony sneaking up on me I turned around and slashed at them with my knife. I stopped mid slash to see Felix’s neck resting gently on the blade.

“Dude! Cool it! It's just me!” Felix fell back, shocked.

“Sorry,” I wiped the sweat from my forehead, feeling my black and dirty mane, “Whatcha got there buddy?”

“You're gonna love this! Armor piercing .308 ammo! Teach these bastards a lesson!” Felix handed me a few magazines of AP .308 rounds. I chambered them into my rifle and tried my hoof at a neat little trick I've been perfecting lately. I wanted to curve the bullet using magic. I closed my eyes and engulfed the round in the chamber. I imagined the path it would travel as I saw a raider pony slide behind a dense brick wall about 500 meters away with a light machine gun battle saddle. I shouldered my PSG and fired. My shot was low, but with my magic I made it defy gravity and curve upward into the raider ponys head as he poked up to take a shot. I saw him drop into the dirt, minus one brain. Score one...

With my magic pumped up I only needed to fire and forget with each trigger pull, my rounds “locked on” to the heads of the raiders I suppressed. One by one they fell in droves, all suffering mortal head wounds and some blown apart completely.

“Ranger, there's another raider with an LMG saddle, wanna take him?” Felix eyed through his binoculars.

“Sure thing bud!” my magic exhausted I fired again at one of the raiders with the machine gun. He dropped like a leaf and one of the others came to his aid. He was moving too fast but I had to take the shot. I held my breathe and fired. The round was lucky enough to get a clean head shot, although “clean” was a little ironic, with the pink mist of brains and blood that erupted from the back of his head. With my continued support the raider ponies finally started to flee. I kept hammering away at them until they were no longer visible in the distance. It was finally safe and everypony hidden in the laboratory came out of hiding.

We took a few minutes to assess our situation. We took a major blow and suffered many causalities. Sure Shot had all four of his legs severed by a grenade. I saw him bleed out to death before I could save him. He screamed in agony then fell lifeless on the cold, hard ground. Slick Moves, or what was left of him, was merely a headless corpse. He was shot through the head with a hollow point .44 magnum causing his head to blow open and expose his spine. Quick Scope, the sniper mare in the tower, was hit directly by the RPG. The only bits of her we found in the pulp of red mush were pieces of scalp with singed black hair and a blue pupil eyeball. Dusty Law, our militia chief, was shredded by a full magazine from an AK-47. His intestines, ribs, and bits of his lungs were poking out of the giant holes on his corpse. My dad was more fortunate. He only had broken his leg and I went to go see him in the infirmary.

“Dammit Ranger,” he coughed out some blood. I noticed the bandages on his mid section and the full weight of it hit me, “They got us good. We lost a lot of good guards and we're combat ineffective. I'm just glad you're safe though.”

I looked around the infirmary to see many civilians and guard ponies dying in their deathbeds. Our medical staff were zooming back and forth to save them in what futile attempts they could try.

“I don't think I could say the same for these ponies,” a somber tone filled my voice, “We're in deep shit now huh?”

“I know, we can't take another attack like that. We've only got ten good ponies left to fight them off,” he shook his head in disappointment, “We'll be lucky if we survive the next raid.”

“...I'm scared,” I held onto his hoof shaking.

“Ranger, listen to me,” he coughed again, this time the blood managed to stop, “These could be the last days we spend together. Which is why I wanted to give you this.”

My father handed me an Ironshod Firearms M29 .44 magnum revolver. He spoke again.

“Take it. It was your mothers before she died. Use it well.”

I examined the old magnum. It had a long barrel, a wooden mouth grip, and was quite well maintained. It had a crude engraving of a heart with my parent’s initials craved inside. I started to break down beside my father.

“Dad! You can't just leave me! Not like this!”

“Rifle Ranger! Listen to me!” my father embraced me in his dying arms to calm me down, “You have to stay strong! Son, it's only a matter of time before I die. You're going to have to look after yourself now. Besides, you're a lot better off than most wastelanders. You can read, write, handle a gun, and...” He paused and pointed at Felix, “him.”

I sighed as the weight of the world rested agonizingly on my chest, “I think I understand...”

“I hope you do son, you're going to have to go out there in the wastes and find a new home,” my dad looked out of the window into the distance, “Those raiders will be back and I know there will be more.”

And so goes the story of New Trotakomai, pretty much a shit hole in an even bigger shit hole… You know? I’ve always wondered about the world we had before. Of course, I only read about it in books and whatnot. Tales of princesses in far off lands, the ministries, the war. Nations now dead and forgotten by the survivors of this world. But really, who cares?

I spent the rest of the day burying raiders, grabbing fallen weapons, and tending to the sick and wounded. All of my friends were either dead or lunch for some wasteland critter. What friends I usually make end up that way, but Felix was the only exception. We were born on the same day and we grew up together. Felix is almost one of a kind, they say that he’s “Too mutated to be ‘Normal’ and too ‘Normal’ to be considered mutated.” So that made him an outcast. As I sat in my bed wide awake at the end of the day I thought about my long dead mother. I pulled out her .44 magnum and stared at it long and hard. Felix came up to me and nudged my arm with his tails. He winded up the ladder to our bunk bed and curled up like a snake to sleep. I put the .44 on the window sill next to my bed. It stunk like hell but at least it kept me warm during these cold winter nights in the Hokkaido Wasteland. And as I looked out the window it started to snow. For me it symbolizes the peace I had before, the peace that has long since melted away, never to be felt again. Hopeless, I drifted off into the night, wishing for some unknown force to take my life away.

Author's Note

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Daddy's Colt:

Each rank of this perk will permanently increase the player's Guns and Repair skills by five points, up to a maximum of three ranks.