Fallout Equestria

by cyberpony mark 5

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Crossover
Length: 7637

As plasma storm attempt to escape stable-72 plasma storm will have to continue his journey,can he do it?

When Plasma Storm is forced into the Marejave Wasteland to find his foal, he soon realizes that Equestria isn't as bad as he was told it was his entire life. Nor is it much better. When a very unique and strange pony strikes a deal with him, he'll not only learn that the mythology he taught in the Stable is fact, but he'll also delve deeper into it than anypony before him.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-31 21:20:37 UTC

Stable 72

“…Equestria is safe another year!”

I closed the old book and looked down at the eyes staring up at me. There were about two dozen fillies and colts gathered on the floor, each sitting on their own foal-sized pillow. All were dressed in the same attire: a blue jumpsuit stopping at their midsection with small saddlebags sporting a large yellow number 72 on each side.

“And that, my little ponies, is The Legend of Nightmare Moon.”

“Ooh! Ooh-ooh-ooh!” A filly in the front row was flailing her yellow hoof in the air and squinting her eyes.

“Yes, Banana Pepper?” She did this at the end of every story.

She inhaled dramatically. “But she was in another story, too! Nightmare Moon! And then she got the princess! And then she got beat by somepony!” she yelled, childishly slurring her words.

“Yes, she did, but that’s another tale for another day. Story-time’s over and you all have an assignment to finish.”

Half of the foals groaned and a few of them sounded like they were fake-crying—trust me, I know the difference. I rolled my eyes and stood up and went to my desk. So did the foals.

An annoying buzz came from the light fixtures, sounding just enough so that you knew it was there. Soft music poured from the intercom speaker; the foals seemed to focus with the music on and that’s all that mattered to me.

But enough about my students and classroom. I’m sure you’re just dying to know my name and cutie mark story, right?

My name is Plasma Storm and I’m a blank-flank. Yes, I’m a grown stallion without a cutie mark.

In Stable 72, when a pony gets his or her cutie mark, they are sent to take the C.A.T., or Cutie-mark Aptitude Test, to determine the job they will hold for the rest of their lives.

A cutie mark doesn’t mean that you’ve discovered that certain something that makes you special. It meant that you had come of age and would contribute to the Stable. We didn’t have to pay for anything down here but we did have to work for it.

If my whole blank-flank situation didn’t make me unique among the ‘average’ ponies, my being a Pegasus sure did. I was the first Pegasus ever born in Stable 72. Imagine the commotion when I had a foal of my own who also happened to be a Pegasus. I know wings are ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’ but they aren’t exactly a blessing in an underground bunker. There’s barely enough headroom to jump up and down, much less fly.

The Overmare must have gotten tired of waiting, since I was a stallion and still didn’t have a cutie mark, so I was sent to take the C.A.T. and scored ‘exceptionally high in all areas’.

Having actually given the test, I can tell you that there are no right or wrong answers but some answers are better than others. My scores meant that the Overmare couldn’t go wrong with placing me in any career. I’ve always been interested in history and Stable Teacher was the only job related to it, so I began my internship to the previous Stable Teacher.

I sat behind my desk while the foals finished their assignment and fiddled with the device on my forehoof.

It’s basically a hoof-mounted super-computer created by a company called Stable-Tec during the great war with the zebras 250 years ago. It’s called a PipBuck, and just a glance at the long list of features is all one needs to know that they are a huge advantage for the pony wearing one. It can tell you exactly where you are or place a waypoint telling where you need to go. It could sort all the gear you are carrying for easy access and can even function as a flashlight.

I eyed the clock on mine; the soft green interface was glowing back at me. The school day was almost over. Just a few more minutes, and…

A bell chimed over the intercom.

“Okay, everypony, turn in your papers,” I said. “And Molasses, please make sure you put your name on your paper this time. I might recognize your writing, but not everypony does.”

The brown filly’s cheeks turned red and she looked at the floor. “I did this time, sir.”

I thanked each foal as they hoofed in their paper. The foals all left to go home or to the cafeteria or whatever it is that foals do after school.

Music was still playing over the intercom. The song was a gloomy but soothing classical piece by a cellist named Octavia from before the war. Hers was the only good music played on the Stable Broadcast. Everypony seemed surprised that I thought so. I admired not only her composing abilities but also how you could feel the emotion in all of her works as if you were experiencing whatever had inspired her to write that piece.

I took the stack of papers in my hooves and tapped them on my desk, making a neat stack. Molasses’s paper was on top; it had no name and sloppy writing, even for a foal. I wasn’t upset. She always tells me that she put her name on it. She almost never does.

I grabbed the quiz and wrote her name on it and began grading, beginning with a five-point deduction for not putting her name on it. I was tired of telling her. Or maybe I was more tired of her not listening.

Question one: What mare was overthrown and banished to the moon by her sister? A) Princess Celestia, B) Discord, C) Ni—wait a minute.

I brought my hoof to my eyes and shook my head. She circled Discord. Discord! He wasn’t a mare. Hell, he wasn’t even a pony. I had to write a small note after every question—yes, she missed them all—explaining why she was wrong. She would never have learned if I simply circled the right answer. She probably still didn’t learn. I felt sorry for her.

The rest of the class scored well, ranging from the C+ to A- range. All except for Radiant Eclipse. She got a perfect score and I expected no less. Radiant sort of reminded me of a mare from one of the books I’d read named Twilight Sparkle. She read almost constantly and if she wasn’t reading then she was studying for any upcoming assignment, be it a pop quiz or an exam. She even tried studying for the C.A.T.

After I finished grading I cleaned up my desk and prepared the curriculum for Monday. I turned off the lights and stepped into the hallway. More buzzing light fixtures. The Stable looked so plain. The only colors down here were different shades of grey. Did ponies not know of another color 250 years ago? Was everypony grey back then?

I headed toward my room and stepped through the automatic door leading into the Living Quarters. The whole layout of the Stable was uniform. Every level was built the same—with few exceptions, of course. The only difference was what you found in the rooms. A dresser here and a bed there made a bedroom look completely different than my classroom despite them having the exact same blueprints.

I stepped through another automatic door and into my home. There was a white pegasus filly curled up on the couch, reading the book lying next to her. She seemed to be in a trance, not even noticing me as I walked up to her. I pulled a piece of paper from my saddlebag and set it on the page she was reading. Her pupils dilated and she looked up.

“I was at a good part!” She flicked the paper off and kept reading. Her pupils shrunk and she was gone again.

I waved my hoof in front of her and she twitched. “Equestria to Radiant! You got a perfect score on your quiz today!” I said playfully.

“I know. These assignments are too easy. Do I really have to sit through all my classes?”

She could tell any stallion or mare in the Stable how to do their job but, after taking her C.A.T., she was placed in maintenance as an intern to the PipBuck Technician. The Overmare said she had to finish her schooling. “Those are the rules,” she said. Rules are rules, I guess, but she had to go at the pace of the other foals.

“I know you don’t need to sit through the classes, but try telling that to the Overmare. Don’t think that I haven’t.”

She crossed her hooves and looked away. “Sure. I’ll probably have better luck getting her to let me leave the Stable.”

Ponies didn’t leave the Stable. Ever. The thought of leaving shouldn’t even cross the mind of a pony her age. 72 did have an incident when I was younger where somepony had tried to leave. He got the door open but Security got him before he could leave. They beat him to death and threw his corpse outside the door then sealed the Stable again. The Overmare placed her duty to the Stable above everything else including the lives of its residents. He had risked the safety of the Stable and she felt he had to pay for that with his life.

I came out of my reverie to the sight of Radiant with one hoof on my face and the other reared back and ready to strike. Again. “Dad? What’s the matter with you?” Her amber eyes glared into mine and she kept her hoof pulled back.

I blinked. “You slapped at my face.”

She flushed and glanced at her hoof before lowering it. “No, I didn’t.” Yes, she did.

“Anyways…”

“What was that all about?” she asked. “That thing where your eyes went all…” she sat up straight with her eyes wide, frozen in place.

“It’s about what you said. Where did you hear about the outside world?”

She didn’t answer.

“Radiant, nopony leaves the Stable. I don’t even want to think of what the Overmare would have done if she heard you.”

She looked up at me and furrowed her brow. “Wait, you knew we weren’t alone here? And you kept it from me? You want to stay trapped down here?” By her tone, I may as well have stabbed her in the back.

“If that guarantees your safety, then yes, I want us to stay down here. We don’t know what’s out there.”

“You seriously believe what the Overmare says?”

Of course not. “It’s what I was always taught. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it makes no sense.”

“It doesn’t matter if it makes sense and it doesn’t matter if Equestria has been safe since the day after the end of the war. We don’t leave until we get the all-clear from Stable-Tec that it’s safe.”

She looked down at the floor. “Fine.” If she didn’t stop there, this argument could go on for hours. Dad was always right.

Poor Radiant. I smiled and looked at the time. The cafeteria would be closing in about an hour.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat.” I extended my wing down to the couch and she climbed up onto my back.

* * *

The cafeteria was one of the largest rooms in the whole Stable. There were more seats available than there were residents. Seems a real waste to me; it’s not like we got many visitors down there.

Radiant and I stepped up to the lunch line, holding our trays in our mouths. Unicorns sure did have it easy. The lunch-mare slapped a pile of mush onto our trays—the main course was always a disgusting paste—and we continued down the line, grabbing things like hay and an apple.

We went to the nearest empty table—a small two-seater—and sat down. The mush was thick like tar and probably tasted worse. It was nutritious though. Radiant didn’t like it any more than I did and showed it by grimacing as she plunged her fork into the mush. When she pulled it straight out a large wad stuck to the fork, not a bit dripping off.

“Why do we eat this crap?” she asked, glaring at the food.

“So we don’t die.”

“You sure this isn’t what’s killing us?” She got up and carried the tray to the trashcan and took the apple in her mouth and threw the tray into the trashcan.

We sat at the cafeteria table a while longer and talked while I finished my meal. We talked about Radiant’s job as a PipBuck Technician intern. She seemed pretty proud of it and so was I. All Hardware let her do was fix cosmetic damages. Mainly just buffing out scratches and purging viruses—you’d be surprised what some of those ponies were browsing.

We also talked about the upcoming C.A.T. and I teased her about trying to study for it. Only a pony who has taken it would know that that’s a waste of time. I was curious as to what job Molasses would get; she had gotten her cutie mark a few days ago. I couldn’t think of anything that would suit her. She’s a few apples short of a bushel…

It was starting to get late so we headed back to the room; the standard two bedroom, which is what most ponies had. We weren’t allowed more than one foal unless a mare had twins, of course. There was only one three bedroom in the Stable that was for housing ponies. This was the Overmare’s. She didn’t even have any foals. She didn’t have a stallion either and you’d know why if you knew her.

The automatic door opened with a hiss. Ponies walked by the large window looking into our room. I hated that window; it made our place seem like an exhibit. Maybe everypony felt better about it since there was one in everypony’s room. Maybe I thought it was creepy.

I took Radiant to her room to tuck her in. Grown up as she was mentally, she was still my little filly. Her room was always kept neat and organized. There were strips of tape labeling everything, even what was in her dresser drawers. She climbed on the bed and slid under the blanket. I kissed her forehead before she rolled over and closed her eyes.

“Goodnight, Radiant,” I said and turned off her lamp.

“Goodnight, Dad.”

I went to my room. It wasn’t nearly neat as Radiant’s. There were Stable suits lying on the floor around my laundry hamper. I’ll pick them up tomorrow, I thought. That’s what I told myself last night. I crawled onto my bed and looked at the picture on my nightstand.

The picture was of two ponies sitting on a blanket. They were surrounded by the depressing grey of the Stable. The snow-white Unicorn mare was nestled under the wing of a much larger dark purple Pegasus stallion. A soft pink blush was on her cheeks. The stallion rested his chin on top of the mare’s head and she had the most beautiful amber eyes. Radiant had her mother’s eyes.

I don’t know how long I stared at the picture before turning off the light, but I just couldn’t look anymore. Then, it had been the happiest day of my life; the day I found out that I was going to be a father. It hurt so much to remember it now.

* * *

6:58 A.M.

Every single morning, like clockwork. My rear hooves were hanging off the edge of the bed. “Just two more minutes,” I mumbled to my mom that wasn’t there.

7:00 A.M.

My alarm went off, and the high-pitched voice of a mare began to sing.

        This is your wake-up telegram, I hope it finds you well

        We wrote this message for you ‘cause we think you’re really swell

        Open your eyes, let out a yawn, and get up out of bed

        Stretch your wings or legs or warm the horn up on your head

        I’m sure your friends are waiting, go see if they want to play

        So, please, oh please get out of bed, get up and start your day

I couldn’t help but smile at the happiness in the mare’s voice. The same voice came from Radiant’s room; it was singing in unison with mine. Then I heard a low groan followed by multiple thumps and her alarm turned off. There was a louder thump right after.

“Agh!”

I rolled out of bed and turned my alarm off and went to check on Radiant. She was lying on her back, spread-eagle, with one wing stretched out, snoring softly.

It was Saturday—she didn’t have school or work—so I picked up the blanket that was currently just warming up one leg of hers, put her on the bed and tucked her back in.

I went to the showers. There was nopony in there—I think I’m the only one who gets up this early on Saturday. I turned the valves and hot water blasted from the shower head and soaked me. The loofah-on-a-stick is a little tough for a non-Unicorn to use but I wasn’t about to ask the first stallion who walked in for a hoof.

After the shower, I went back home. Radiant was still asleep. I went to my room and picked up the Stable suits off of the floor and put them in the hamper. What to do this weekend?

* * *

Monday already.

Today, nine foals would take the C.A.T. The foals all gathered in the classroom and took their seats. I stood before them with my stack of papers and cleared my throat.

“Everypony make sure to circle neatly,” I looked at Molasses, “and put your names on your paper.”

“I will this time,” she said.

“That’s what you said Friday, and you didn’t put your name on your paper. Don’t let that happen again, Molasses, or I’ll have to fail you. You don’t want to know what happens to ponies who fail the C.A.T.”  Nothing happens because you can’t fail the C.A.T., but it really makes them focus. “Okay…” I gave them a menacing grin. “Question one…”

* * *

“That’s it, ponies. The infamous C.A.T. Everypony, turn in your papers and I’ll let you know how you scored tomorrow in class.”

“Aww!”

I cleaned up my desk and turned the classroom lights off and went into the hall. A big Earth colt was talking to Radiant.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re stuck fixing PipBucks for the rest of your life, loser.”

“You clean the toilets for a living. You don’t have any room to talk,” said Radiant.

The Stable bully seemed to have taken a liking to picking on Radiant. I’m pretty sure he was the son of the bully who picked on me when I was her age. He was the biggest colt in the class but that’s because he was twice their age. I hate to say it, being a teacher and all, but he was flat out stupid; he failed his exams every year and had the intelligence of a two year old.

“What did you just said?” He inched her toward the wall.

“Quit it!” she said.

“Why? Are you gonna tell your blank-flank dad?” He knocked her books to the floor.

I spun him around and backed him up against the wall. “What’s going on here?”

He didn’t answer.

“Dad, he picks on me every day. Can’t you do something?”

“I’m about to. I’m getting tired of you bothering her.” I pulled my hoof back like I was going to hit him.

He threw his hooves up. “No, please, no! I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, you are. Pick her books up.” He did. “Now apologize.”

“Sorry…” he muttered.

“Didn’t quite catch that,” I said.

“I’m sorry.”

Radiant jumped up on my back. “This blank-flank dad has more important things to do. Like tell you to study for your exam on Friday. Too bad you won’t and I’ll see you again next year.”

Radiant shot the bully a raspberry.

He pointed a hoof at her. “You’re dead, loser…”

I came back and knocked his books to the floor. “Littering? Pick those up before I give you detention every day next week.”

Radiant shot him another raspberry. He didn’t say anything that time.

* * *

Sirens shook me from my sleep. I flailed my legs and kicked the blanket off of me and got out of bed. I didn’t know what was happening but it must be serious if they turned on the sirens. I ran to Radiant’s room.

She was gone.

“Oh, shit!” I started yelling for her. She wasn’t anywhere in our home. Maybe the halls?

Maybe not. I stopped to ask a few of the panicked residents. They weren’t helpful at all. They didn’t even answer my question.

I threw my hooves up. “Oh, yes! Let’s all freak out!”

A mare ran up to me. “Don’t you know what’s going on?”

“…Equestria is safe another year!”

I closed the old book and looked down at the eyes staring up at me. There were about two dozen fillies and colts gathered on the floor, each sitting on their own foal-sized pillow. All were dressed in the same attire: a blue jumpsuit stopping at their midsection with small saddlebags sporting a large yellow number 72 on each side.

“And that, my little ponies, is The Legend of Nightmare Moon.”

“Ooh! Ooh-ooh-ooh!” A filly in the front row was flailing her yellow hoof in the air and squinting her eyes.

“Yes, Banana Pepper?” She did this at the end of every story.

She inhaled dramatically. “But she was in another story, too! Nightmare Moon! And then she got the princess! And then she got beat by somepony!” she yelled, childishly slurring her words.

“Yes, she did, but that’s another tale for another day. Story-time’s over and you all have an assignment to finish.”

Half of the foals groaned and a few of them sounded like they were fake-crying—trust me, I know the difference. I rolled my eyes and stood up and went to my desk. So did the foals.

An annoying buzz came from the light fixtures, sounding just enough so that you knew it was there. Soft music poured from the intercom speaker; the foals seemed to focus with the music on and that’s all that mattered to me.

But enough about my students and classroom. I’m sure you’re just dying to know my name and cutie mark story, right?

My name is Plasma Storm and I’m a blank-flank. Yes, I’m a grown stallion without a cutie mark.

In Stable 72, when a pony gets his or her cutie mark, they are sent to take the C.A.T., or Cutie-mark Aptitude Test, to determine the job they will hold for the rest of their lives.

A cutie mark doesn’t mean that you’ve discovered that certain something that makes you special. It meant that you had come of age and would contribute to the Stable. We didn’t have to pay for anything down here but we did have to work for it.

If my whole blank-flank situation didn’t make me unique among the ‘average’ ponies, my being a Pegasus sure did. I was the first Pegasus ever born in Stable 72. Imagine the commotion when I had a foal of my own who also happened to be a Pegasus. I know wings are ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’ but they aren’t exactly a blessing in an underground bunker. There’s barely enough headroom to jump up and down, much less fly.

The Overmare must have gotten tired of waiting, since I was a stallion and still didn’t have a cutie mark, so I was sent to take the C.A.T. and scored ‘exceptionally high in all areas’.

Having actually given the test, I can tell you that there are no right or wrong answers but some answers are better than others. My scores meant that the Overmare couldn’t go wrong with placing me in any career. I’ve always been interested in history and Stable Teacher was the only job related to it, so I began my internship to the previous Stable Teacher.

I sat behind my desk while the foals finished their assignment and fiddled with the device on my forehoof.

It’s basically a hoof-mounted super-computer created by a company called Stable-Tec during the great war with the zebras 250 years ago. It’s called a PipBuck, and just a glance at the long list of features is all one needs to know that they are a huge advantage for the pony wearing one. It can tell you exactly where you are or place a waypoint telling where you need to go. It could sort all the gear you are carrying for easy access and can even function as a flashlight.

I eyed the clock on mine; the soft green interface was glowing back at me. The school day was almost over. Just a few more minutes, and…

A bell chimed over the intercom.

“Okay, everypony, turn in your papers,” I said. “And Molasses, please make sure you put your name on your paper this time. I might recognize your writing, but not everypony does.”

The brown filly’s cheeks turned red and she looked at the floor. “I did this time, sir.”

I thanked each foal as they hoofed in their paper. The foals all left to go home or to the cafeteria or whatever it is that foals do after school.

Music was still playing over the intercom. The song was a gloomy but soothing classical piece by a cellist named Octavia from before the war. Hers was the only good music played on the Stable Broadcast. Everypony seemed surprised that I thought so. I admired not only her composing abilities but also how you could feel the emotion in all of her works as if you were experiencing whatever had inspired her to write that piece.

I took the stack of papers in my hooves and tapped them on my desk, making a neat stack. Molasses’s paper was on top; it had no name and sloppy writing, even for a foal. I wasn’t upset. She always tells me that she put her name on it. She almost never does.

I grabbed the quiz and wrote her name on it and began grading, beginning with a five-point deduction for not putting her name on it. I was tired of telling her. Or maybe I was more tired of her not listening.

Question one: What mare was overthrown and banished to the moon by her sister? A) Princess Celestia, B) Discord, C) Ni—wait a minute.

I brought my hoof to my eyes and shook my head. She circled Discord. Discord! He wasn’t a mare. Hell, he wasn’t even a pony. I had to write a small note after every question—yes, she missed them all—explaining why she was wrong. She would never have learned if I simply circled the right answer. She probably still didn’t learn. I felt sorry for her.

The rest of the class scored well, ranging from the C+ to A- range. All except for Radiant Eclipse. She got a perfect score and I expected no less. Radiant sort of reminded me of a mare from one of the books I’d read named Twilight Sparkle. She read almost constantly and if she wasn’t reading then she was studying for any upcoming assignment, be it a pop quiz or an exam. She even tried studying for the C.A.T.

After I finished grading I cleaned up my desk and prepared the curriculum for Monday. I turned off the lights and stepped into the hallway. More buzzing light fixtures. The Stable looked so plain. The only colors down here were different shades of grey. Did ponies not know of another color 250 years ago? Was everypony grey back then?

I headed toward my room and stepped through the automatic door leading into the Living Quarters. The whole layout of the Stable was uniform. Every level was built the same—with few exceptions, of course. The only difference was what you found in the rooms. A dresser here and a bed there made a bedroom look completely different than my classroom despite them having the exact same blueprints.

I stepped through another automatic door and into my home. There was a white pegasus filly curled up on the couch, reading the book lying next to her. She seemed to be in a trance, not even noticing me as I walked up to her. I pulled a piece of paper from my saddlebag and set it on the page she was reading. Her pupils dilated and she looked up.

“I was at a good part!” She flicked the paper off and kept reading. Her pupils shrunk and she was gone again.

I waved my hoof in front of her and she twitched. “Equestria to Radiant! You got a perfect score on your quiz today!” I said playfully.

“I know. These assignments are too easy. Do I really have to sit through all my classes?”

She could tell any stallion or mare in the Stable how to do their job but, after taking her C.A.T., she was placed in maintenance as an intern to the PipBuck Technician. The Overmare said she had to finish her schooling. “Those are the rules,” she said. Rules are rules, I guess, but she had to go at the pace of the other foals.

“I know you don’t need to sit through the classes, but try telling that to the Overmare. Don’t think that I haven’t.”

She crossed her hooves and looked away. “Sure. I’ll probably have better luck getting her to let me leave the Stable.”

Ponies didn’t leave the Stable. Ever. The thought of leaving shouldn’t even cross the mind of a pony her age. 72 did have an incident when I was younger where somepony had tried to leave. He got the door open but Security got him before he could leave. They beat him to death and threw his corpse outside the door then sealed the Stable again. The Overmare placed her duty to the Stable above everything else including the lives of its residents. He had risked the safety of the Stable and she felt he had to pay for that with his life.

I came out of my reverie to the sight of Radiant with one hoof on my face and the other reared back and ready to strike. Again. “Dad? What’s the matter with you?” Her amber eyes glared into mine and she kept her hoof pulled back.

I blinked. “You slapped at my face.”

She flushed and glanced at her hoof before lowering it. “No, I didn’t.” Yes, she did.

“Anyways…”

“What was that all about?” she asked. “That thing where your eyes went all…” she sat up straight with her eyes wide, frozen in place.

“It’s about what you said. Where did you hear about the outside world?”

She didn’t answer.

“Radiant, nopony leaves the Stable. I don’t even want to think of what the Overmare would have done if she heard you.”

She looked up at me and furrowed her brow. “Wait, you knew we weren’t alone here? And you kept it from me? You want to stay trapped down here?” By her tone, I may as well have stabbed her in the back.

“If that guarantees your safety, then yes, I want us to stay down here. We don’t know what’s out there.”

“You seriously believe what the Overmare says?”

Of course not. “It’s what I was always taught. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it makes no sense.”

“It doesn’t matter if it makes sense and it doesn’t matter if Equestria has been safe since the day after the end of the war. We don’t leave until we get the all-clear from Stable-Tec that it’s safe.”

She looked down at the floor. “Fine.” If she didn’t stop there, this argument could go on for hours. Dad was always right.

Poor Radiant. I smiled and looked at the time. The cafeteria would be closing in about an hour.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat.” I extended my wing down to the couch and she climbed up onto my back.

* * *

The cafeteria was one of the largest rooms in the whole Stable. There were more seats available than there were residents. Seems a real waste to me; it’s not like we got many visitors down there.

Radiant and I stepped up to the lunch line, holding our trays in our mouths. Unicorns sure did have it easy. The lunch-mare slapped a pile of mush onto our trays—the main course was always a disgusting paste—and we continued down the line, grabbing things like hay and an apple.

We went to the nearest empty table—a small two-seater—and sat down. The mush was thick like tar and probably tasted worse. It was nutritious though. Radiant didn’t like it any more than I did and showed it by grimacing as she plunged her fork into the mush. When she pulled it straight out a large wad stuck to the fork, not a bit dripping off.

“Why do we eat this crap?” she asked, glaring at the food.

“So we don’t die.”

“You sure this isn’t what’s killing us?” She got up and carried the tray to the trashcan and took the apple in her mouth and threw the tray into the trashcan.

We sat at the cafeteria table a while longer and talked while I finished my meal. We talked about Radiant’s job as a PipBuck Technician intern. She seemed pretty proud of it and so was I. All Hardware let her do was fix cosmetic damages. Mainly just buffing out scratches and purging viruses—you’d be surprised what some of those ponies were browsing.

We also talked about the upcoming C.A.T. and I teased her about trying to study for it. Only a pony who has taken it would know that that’s a waste of time. I was curious as to what job Molasses would get; she had gotten her cutie mark a few days ago. I couldn’t think of anything that would suit her. She’s a few apples short of a bushel…

It was starting to get late so we headed back to the room; the standard two bedroom, which is what most ponies had. We weren’t allowed more than one foal unless a mare had twins, of course. There was only one three bedroom in the Stable that was for housing ponies. This was the Overmare’s. She didn’t even have any foals. She didn’t have a stallion either and you’d know why if you knew her.

The automatic door opened with a hiss. Ponies walked by the large window looking into our room. I hated that window; it made our place seem like an exhibit. Maybe everypony felt better about it since there was one in everypony’s room. Maybe I thought it was creepy.

I took Radiant to her room to tuck her in. Grown up as she was mentally, she was still my little filly. Her room was always kept neat and organized. There were strips of tape labeling everything, even what was in her dresser drawers. She climbed on the bed and slid under the blanket. I kissed her forehead before she rolled over and closed her eyes.

“Goodnight, Radiant,” I said and turned off her lamp.

“Goodnight, Dad.”

I went to my room. It wasn’t nearly neat as Radiant’s. There were Stable suits lying on the floor around my laundry hamper. I’ll pick them up tomorrow, I thought. That’s what I told myself last night. I crawled onto my bed and looked at the picture on my nightstand.

The picture was of two ponies sitting on a blanket. They were surrounded by the depressing grey of the Stable. The snow-white Unicorn mare was nestled under the wing of a much larger dark purple Pegasus stallion. A soft pink blush was on her cheeks. The stallion rested his chin on top of the mare’s head and she had the most beautiful amber eyes. Radiant had her mother’s eyes.

I don’t know how long I stared at the picture before turning off the light, but I just couldn’t look anymore. Then, it had been the happiest day of my life; the day I found out that I was going to be a father. It hurt so much to remember it now.

* * *

6:58 A.M.

Every single morning, like clockwork. My rear hooves were hanging off the edge of the bed. “Just two more minutes,” I mumbled to my mom that wasn’t there.

7:00 A.M.

My alarm went off, and the high-pitched voice of a mare began to sing.

        This is your wake-up telegram, I hope it finds you well

        We wrote this message for you ‘cause we think you’re really swell

        Open your eyes, let out a yawn, and get up out of bed

        Stretch your wings or legs or warm the horn up on your head

        I’m sure your friends are waiting, go see if they want to play

        So, please, oh please get out of bed, get up and start your day

I couldn’t help but smile at the happiness in the mare’s voice. The same voice came from Radiant’s room; it was singing in unison with mine. Then I heard a low groan followed by multiple thumps and her alarm turned off. There was a louder thump right after.

“Agh!”

I rolled out of bed and turned my alarm off and went to check on Radiant. She was lying on her back, spread-eagle, with one wing stretched out, snoring softly.

It was Saturday—she didn’t have school or work—so I picked up the blanket that was currently just warming up one leg of hers, put her on the bed and tucked her back in.

I went to the showers. There was nopony in there—I think I’m the only one who gets up this early on Saturday. I turned the valves and hot water blasted from the shower head and soaked me. The loofah-on-a-stick is a little tough for a non-Unicorn to use but I wasn’t about to ask the first stallion who walked in for a hoof.

After the shower, I went back home. Radiant was still asleep. I went to my room and picked up the Stable suits off of the floor and put them in the hamper. What to do this weekend?

* * *

Monday already.

Today, nine foals would take the C.A.T. The foals all gathered in the classroom and took their seats. I stood before them with my stack of papers and cleared my throat.

“Everypony make sure to circle neatly,” I looked at Molasses, “and put your names on your paper.”

“I will this time,” she said.

“That’s what you said Friday, and you didn’t put your name on your paper. Don’t let that happen again, Molasses, or I’ll have to fail you. You don’t want to know what happens to ponies who fail the C.A.T.”  Nothing happens because you can’t fail the C.A.T., but it really makes them focus. “Okay…” I gave them a menacing grin. “Question one…”

* * *

“That’s it, ponies. The infamous C.A.T. Everypony, turn in your papers and I’ll let you know how you scored tomorrow in class.”

“Aww!”

I cleaned up my desk and turned the classroom lights off and went into the hall. A big Earth colt was talking to Radiant.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re stuck fixing PipBucks for the rest of your life, loser.”

“You clean the toilets for a living. You don’t have any room to talk,” said Radiant.

The Stable bully seemed to have taken a liking to picking on Radiant. I’m pretty sure he was the son of the bully who picked on me when I was her age. He was the biggest colt in the class but that’s because he was twice their age. I hate to say it, being a teacher and all, but he was flat out stupid; he failed his exams every year and had the intelligence of a two year old.

“What did you just said?” He inched her toward the wall.

“Quit it!” she said.

“Why? Are you gonna tell your blank-flank dad?” He knocked her books to the floor.

I spun him around and backed him up against the wall. “What’s going on here?”

He didn’t answer.

“Dad, he picks on me every day. Can’t you do something?”

“I’m about to. I’m getting tired of you bothering her.” I pulled my hoof back like I was going to hit him.

He threw his hooves up. “No, please, no! I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, you are. Pick her books up.” He did. “Now apologize.”

“Sorry…” he muttered.

“Didn’t quite catch that,” I said.

“I’m sorry.”

Radiant jumped up on my back. “This blank-flank dad has more important things to do. Like tell you to study for your exam on Friday. Too bad you won’t and I’ll see you again next year.”

Radiant shot the bully a raspberry.

He pointed a hoof at her. “You’re dead, loser…”

I came back and knocked his books to the floor. “Littering? Pick those up before I give you detention every day next week.”

Radiant shot him another raspberry. He didn’t say anything that time.

* * *

Sirens shook me from my sleep. I flailed my legs and kicked the blanket off of me and got out of bed. I didn’t know what was happening but it must be serious if they turned on the sirens. I ran to Radiant’s room.

She was gone.

“Oh, shit!” I started yelling for her. She wasn’t anywhere in our home. Maybe the halls?

Maybe not. I stopped to ask a few of the panicked residents. They weren’t helpful at all. They didn’t even answer my question.

I threw my hooves up. “Oh, yes! Let’s all freak out!”

A mare ran up to me. “Don’t you know what’s going on?”

“No.”

“Somepony left the Stable.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“So you decided to just freak out until somepony else solves the problem?”

She furrowed her brow. “You’re such a prick!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Nice ponies only get taken advantage of. Better everypony thinks I’m a prick.

“I didn’t even do anything to you.”

“I… you’re right. Sorry about that. Radiant’s missing and you’re telling me somepony left the Stable.”

She gasped. “You think she’s the one who left?”

“I do now. She mentioned it a few days ago. The outside world.”

“Then you better go check. The Overmare would know.”

“Thanks. And sorry again. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Just go!”

The Overmare was in her office. She was looking at the chaos below from her giant window overlooking the atrium with no expression, almost like she had planned it.

“Overmare, have you seen Radiant? She’s not in her room.”

“Yes.” She turned and walked up to me. “She’s outside. Radiant opened the door to the Stable.”

“What?! No…” I turned to go to the Stable door.

“Hold it!” She stepped up to me again. “Radiant’s life in the Stable is done. She’ll be killed if she comes back. We can’t risk the safety of our home without consequences. You need to forget about her. You are a very valuable member of the Stable and I don’t want to lose you to her mistake.”

“You want me to leave my daughter to die out there?”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do and you will because I told you to.”

“No.”

Luna, was she pissed then. “I will not tolerate dissent in my Stable.”

“You better shoot me then. I’m going after her.”

Thank Luna that the Overmare was an Earth pony. She reached her head back to draw her Laser Pistol and I slammed my hoof to the back of her head. She crumpled to the floor and I took the pistol.

I made my way to the Stable door. I entered the Atrium just before the exit. There was the corpse of one of the Stable custodians. She wasn’t much younger than I was. Over her corpse stood one of the Stable’s security guards with a bloody baton in his mouth.

“Stop right there! This area’s off-limits until further notice.”

“You killed her?”

“I said this area’s off-limits! Get back to your room!”

I started toward him.

“I won’t warn you again! Take another step and I’ll…”

I shot him. And again. And again. He lit up and turned to a pile of ash.

He murdered her. For simply being here at the wrong time. I remembered the story of the pony who tried to leave when I was younger. It was a gruesome story, but to actually experience something similar? It was another experience entirely.

The Stable door was wide open; the giant cog-shaped opening was beckoning somepony to leave. So I did. I stepped slowly, cautiously, as if I expected a whole team of security guards to swoop in and try to stop me.

Nopony came and the sirens kept blasting.

Just outside the Stable door was a long tunnel and a single skeleton. The air was cool and dry. It smelled much different than the air I’d breathed my whole life. I felt rock under my hooves for the first time.

At the end of the tunnel was a cellar door. I flipped it open and was blasted with the brightest light I’ve ever seen in my life. It was warm too. I reeled back in terror then crawled out onto the rock and took in the vast world before me.

Now, where could Radiant have gone to?