“Canterlot has fallen; both princesses are presumed dead,” he said, looking across the group of ponies tightly gathered in the atrium. “What little radio chatter that’s left has confirmed megaspell strikes on Cloudsdale, Phillydelphia, and just about every damn city with more than 12 residents.” His voice trembled as he spoke his next words, “Hell - most of us here saw Manehatten go up in flames ourselves.”
There were a few acknowledging nods from the group. A young mare, positioned at the side of the room, burst into tears, and the stallion with her pulled her into an embrace, attempting to solace her.
The pony at the podium waited for the mare’s cries to quiet some before continueing, “We’ve all made arrangements for this day, and unfortunately, it’s finally the time to put them into effect. On the level below us are 273 magical chambers, one for each pony here, including myself. These chambers will house us indefinitely - for hundreds of years if necessary - and will protect us from the dangerous magics now rampant across our land. We do not need to fight the magical wasteland Equestria has become, we need only wait for the radiation to wear itself away.”
The ponies in front of him merely stood, silently listening. Some were shell shocked, looking onward with vacant expressions. Others’ expressions were unusually attentive, given how many times they’d heard this exact information before. They were grasping at the familiar words of the administrator’s speech as a way to distract themselves. To keep from thinking of the horrors that laid just outside this building.
“Each chamber has two layers of preservation. The first, and most powerful, is the temporal crystal developed by Stable Tech Industries. Each chamber is specifically designed to house and exacerbate the effects of these crystals - indefinitely pausing time for everything within. Should this crystal fail, however, either from magical crack in the material or warping of the chamber, the second layer will activate automatically.”
The administrator pulled an IV needle from his bag and set it on the pedestal in front of him.
“The second layer of preservation is... significantly less elegant. Upon the crystals failure the IVs placed within both of your forelegs and hindlegs will perform a blood transfusion, replacing your blood with a magical poultice. This poultice, once spread throughout your body, has a similar effect to the crystal - freezing your body in time. This effect, however, only occurs when the poultice is brought to incredibly low temperatures, so your chamber will also be flooded with liquid Nitrogen to maintain the necessary temperature. This effect should also be indefinite - thanks to the large array of Nitrogen fountain gems in the facility.”
“Now, if everypony is attentive and comes with me immediately when their name is called, we’ll be done in a couple hours. Let’s start with Anna Belle.” A cream colored mare, hearing her name, started at hearing her name, and quickly made her way to the front of the crowd and followed the Administrator from the room.
~~~
Walking up the stairs to return to the atrium, the administrator considered the small feeling of anxiety that’d been growing since he began preserving the ponies. He’d been working for well over an hour now, and when he entered the atrium for nearly the 100th he realized what was bothering him. There was no panic - no struggling or arguing or any hint of disagreement between the ponies in this room. There was only complete cooperation and understanding between every single pony in the stable. The uneasy feeling that had been growing in his stomach disappeared instantly when he realized this, and the Administrator then paused to consider why he’d been so surprised to see everything running smoothly in the first place. It was the madness outside he thought, Trying to get from home to here was so much different than this. Between the ponies on the ground and the pegasi in the air, and what was happening over the radio, it felt like the everypony had completely forgotten how to work together. He considered that thought for a moment. He was happy this vault existed - the ponies here deserved better than the disaster outside.
“Silvester Starshine, you’re next,” he said loudly, standing just inside the room. A grey unicorn gave a small smile to the blue earth-pony he’d been talking to and turned away, walking over to the Administrator.
“Just Silver is fine, sir,” he said to the stocky green earth-pony in charge.
“Of course,” he replied, “Silver, Follow me.”
The pair made their way down the stairs, entering a wide hallway. It was utilitarian - sparsely lit by the occasional gemstone hanging from the ceiling. The walls were a harsh metal, with large and important-seeming pipes running along them. The floor was just concrete with a protective finish. Silver and the Administrator made their way along the hallway, their hoofsteps echoing loudly in the large space. Entering an open door on the left, they’re both met with a wall of 12 pony-sized pods. The ovaloid shape was much like that of an egg. Pipes running into the room from the hallway wrap around the top edge of the wall, branching off to attach to each pod in various places. Four of these pods are open to the air, with their doors slid to the side to reveal what’s inside. The center of each pod has a rigid structure meant to support a pony standing on their hind legs and leaning back, not touching any internal edge of the pod except for the floor. The internal sides of the pod were much different than the smooth curves of the outside, with a myriad of crystalline shapes tiling the inside edges in a very carefully considered way. Silver approached an empty pod, while the administrator followed closely behind.
“This one is mine, right?” he asked, indicating the pod just to the right of the 8 currently occupied ones.
“That’s correct,” the administrator said, nodding, “carefully step inside and lean against the support, and we’ll move onto the next step.” Silver swallowed nervously, then reared back onto his hind legs. He balanced himself, and in a couple smooth motions stepped into the pod, twisted himself around, and leaned back onto the center support. Despite the awkward position, Silver was surprisingly comfortable against the well-designed device.
“Are you ready for the needles now?”
Silver swallowed again, and nodded once.
“Okay. This will just take a moment.”
The administrator then leaned in, and grabbed the four IVs hanging from the ceiling of the pod. After pulling them from their housing he merely tapped the tip of each needle against the appropriate place on Silver’s legs, and the blood-seeking charms took over; each needle angled itself appropriately and pushed itself into one of his veins. Silver grimaced briefly as each needle did its thing, and then was fine.
“I suppose that’s that, then?” Silver said.
“Yes. All that’s left is for me to close the door and you’ll be frozen in time until this whole thing is over with.” The admin said.
“I’ll see you on the other side, then, sir,” SIlver said.
The administrator just smiled at the unicorn, stepped back, and slide the door shut. A soft ‘click’ was heard as the door latched and sealed itself in place. After a moment’s pause, a green light on the exterior of the pod blinked on, indicating that the temporal crystal was working as intended.
As he walked from the room he spoke softly to himself, “I wish you would.”
~~~
The last pod door slid shut, and the Administrator sighed. He slowly made his way out into the hallway, and then down to the door at the end. His door. To his office. And his pod.
Staring at the door, he said to himself, “It’s alright, you’ve still got a few more things to attend to before you’re done. It’s important to see things through.”
Reaching his hoof out, he twisted the knob and pushed himself into his office. The room was sizable, but was made cramped by the amount of equipment that was forced to fit inside. A large piece of machinery made up the space nearest the back wall, with a line of computer terminals at eye level. Among the terminals were many knobs, switches, dials, and indicators. To the trained eye, this wall was a source of information about the conditions of every pony in every pod, as well as the Stable’s subsystems. A few feet from the mighty computer was a simple wooden desk - it had 4 drawers, two on either side, and its surface was immaculate. The Administrator walked over to the desk and sat down on the chair situated nearby. Lifting his forelegs and resting them on the desk, his eyes drifted to the stasis pod on the other side of the room. Its door was shut, and its green indicator light was conspicuously glowing. Shifting his arms, the Administrator brought the metallic computer anchored around his leg just above his fetlock to his attention.
It wasn’t the newest model of the Pipbuck line, but, like any Stable Tech product, it was still a long-lasting and useful device. A small screen took up one side of the device, and could be set to display a number of useful things: Weather forecasts, maps and your location, the date and time, and in many models the level of ambient magical radiation in the immediate area. They were an incredible tool for any pony that had one, but in many cases were merely used as glorified watches for the rich to brag about buying first.
Pressing buttons on the small device with his left hoof, he navigated to the menu he desired, pressed a final button, and began to speak.
“This is the first, and probably last, of my audio logs. For those of you that find this, I will not be waking up with you. Your administrator will likely be long dead.... It... It terrifies me to say that. To think that. I don’t want to die. But I see no way to live if I stay here, so I’ll have to take my chances out there.”
“Let me explain myself. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve not just used my own pod - why I’m not here to greet you in person. Hell, I bet a part of you thinks this is just a trick. You’re thinking, ‘his pod’s still closed while the rest of us are out. Surely he’s still in there, ready to come out any minute now!’ I wish... I really wish that were the case.”
“But somepony else is in there. His name’s Tropical Dotty. He’s 15. And he’s nearly dead from a terminal disease. It’s Inoperable cancer. He.. he was on deaths door when I came across him, and I just couldn’t.. I.. Nopony deserves to die like that. Not that young. I figured I could save him. I mean, who knows what kind of great medicine we’ll have in the future, right? I figured.. I figured the bombs would never drop. We’d never need this place. I’d never need this place. So I put him in my pod, frozen in time, hanging on, forever just above the brink of death...”
“He’ll last a long while, though. So you guys get to rebuilding civilization, all right? He will need a cure eventually.”
“If the computer woke you guys up early, because this place needs some maintenance done, then the computer diagnostics and instructions should be all you need to sort things out. If not, there’s schematics of this whole place in the computer. I’ve also made myself a user manual, which is also in the computer. It should be understandable enough. There’s a paper copy of that in the desk, too, if you need it.”
He stopped talking for a moment, and leaned down, opening the bottom right drawer. Inside lay a thick, crudely bound book titled “The Administrator’s Guide to Stable 273.” He then slid the drawer shut again, and went back to speaking.
“Hopefully it doesn't come to that, though. Stable Tech really know’s how to build things to last.”
“It’s a hell of a thing, isn’t it? This place, I mean. It took a lot of ponies a lot of effort to make it happen.”
“I’m rambling now, I suppose. I think I’ll stick around for the night, keep an eye on the computer, and make sure everything’s going okay. Maybe when I head back outside everything will be better than it was today. Maybe ponies will be more organized... Maybe.”
He sat at his desk, motionless. Several moments passed.
“The parent’s don’t know.”
“I mean, I’ll be dead by that time anypony hears this anyway, right? I might as well make it a bit of a confessional. The kid, Tropical, his parents think he’s dead. They didn’t think the pod would save him, when I asked. They didn’t even need to pay a bit, I volunteered my own, and still they wanted nothing to do with it. ‘A fools hope’, ‘crack-pot’, ‘vindicating a madmare’s obsession’ were the kind of things they said to me...”
“I pleaded and begged with the doctor to help me instead. He wouldn’t take my bribes, but he eventually agreed. Tropical had less than a week left, Everypony knew it, so the doctor pronounced him, I snuck him away, and the parents buried an empty coffin.”
“I feel terrible, but I think I did the right thing.”
The green pony then pressed a button, and the recording stopped. Twisting his arm around some, he then released a latch and his Pipbuck opened on a hinge, freeing his foreleg from its grasp. Making sure the device was resting on the top of his desk, he swiveled his chair around and began carefully watching the indicators. It had been an exhausting day, but he knew sleep would be impossible.
Eventually though, his exhaustion was enough, and the Administrator got a few hours of fitful rest.
There was no food, no long term supplies, though, so when morning came he filled whatever he could with water from the Atrium’s bathroom and left Stable 273 for good. Stepping up and outside, the powerful blast-doors included in every Stable’s construction clanged shut behind him, protecting its precious contents from Equestria - for however long it must.
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Author's Note
And so the story begins! I hope it ends up being a good one.
This started as an attempt at completing National Novel Writing Month. The month is now over, but my story is not finished, unfortunately. Turns out 50k words in 30 days is hard. So, I'm working on editing what I have, releasing it, gauging how much interest there is my writing, and then deciding how much I should work to start updating this thing regularly.
Constructive criticism, impressions, and grammar/spelling corrections are welcome and encouraged.
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“It just so happens that your friend here is only MOSTLY dead. There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead.”
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I wasn’t that afraid when the door slid shut, but a few moments later, when the door reopened, I had a terrible feeling throughout my entire body. It made me anxious, and the fur along my neck stood on end. What’s gone wrong? I thought, where’s this feeling coming from?
Reaching out with my magic to remove the needles from my arm, I found my answer. Nothing happened. I didn’t feel the tell-tale ‘tugging’ from my horn that performing magic always had. Nor did I feel the pressure of the IVs in my telekinetic grip. What I felt was... nothing at all. Straining harder with effort, I looked down at my arms and saw nothing as well. There was no white glow - No evidence I was doing any magic at all.
That’s when the fear started. I was terrified. The nightmares I’d had during my foalhood about losing my magic as a foal came rushing back, and my breathing began to accelerate. Try and calm down, I thought, Unicorns can lose their magic all the time. It’ll be back in no time. You just need to wait it out.
No, I thought back to myself, we don’t lose it. Sometimes it temporarily weakens, or becomes more exhausting, but I’ve never heard of a unicorn actually losing their magic outright - outside of terrible curses.
Have I been cursed?
I can’t see how, I thought back to myself.
That doesn’t mean It couldn't have happened.
Well, I’m in a Stable full of very smart ponies, I thought. Why don’t I get out and ask them for help instead of panicking?
With curses on my mind, I leaned my head down and gripped one of the IVs with my mouth. Pulling slowly, I worked the needle free from myself, and left it to dangle by its tube. I then turned my attention to my other foreleg and did the same. I then bent over forward to reach my hindlegs, fumbling awkwardly with the needles, not used to having to use my hooves. I eventually managed to pull the needles free, though not without some painful mistakes. I stepped out of the pod I had, to my own perspective, entered only moments ago.
Looking around the room, my anxiety grew. The eleven other pods remained sealed shut, with green lights off and red lights on. All their temporal crystals failed, the lights told me; every one of them were now frozen in Nitrogen. And because their blood had been replaced, they’d have to remain frozen until blood was returned - a time freezing poultice doesn’t carry oxygen well - which the Stable couldn’t do by itself.
Eyes wide, I walked over to the pod just after mine and placed a hoof on it’s surface. “Caramel Circus.” I said softly. “We were supposed to wake up together.” Pulling my hoof down from the surface, I steeled my nerves and attempted to swallow my fear. There were important steps to take. “Don’t worry, Caramel.” I said. “There are plenty of doctors here. I’m sure we’ll get you awake and kicking in no time.”
Leaving the room, I was surprised to find nopony in the hallway. Opening the door across from me, I was met by another 12 red lights. 12 more ponies not waking up today. I rushed to the room adjacent, my hooves echoing loudly in the hall, and I saw the same thing. I began to panic. This can’t be happening. I need to find the others awake... There are others, right? Surely there must be others. I galloped down the hall, heading for the Administrator’s office - the computer was sure to have answers. Coming to his door I reached out with my magic to push it ope- SLAM! - I quickly fell to my haunches, my head reeling from the sudden impact.
“Fucking magic!” I muttered, rubbing my throbbing head. Groaning, I got back to my hoofs, and carefully opened the door with my hoof. I stepped into the office and immediately noticed several things. A Pipbuck Lay on the desk, seemingly abandoned by whomever owned it, and the computer, as indicated by the many displays and indicators that were a part of it, looked upset. Something was going wrong in the facility, and needed to be dealt with. Looking towards the pod in this room, I caught sight of the red indicator, dashing away the hopes I’d been forming that the admin would handle things for me. The computer took priority and I made my way over to see what the problem was.
The alarm lights and indicators placed upon the control panel in front of me were glowing and flickering in varying intensities of red, the universal sign of "Something has totally fucked up." I was starting to get very worried about the lives of the ponies in this Stable. I was absolutely not the pony who should be responsible for the implications of these metal panels. Not even close. The order of succession for those most capable of fixing this damned problem had me far from the top, which didn't bode well for the 300 or so ponies whose lives depended on what the indicators said.
I paused and held my gaze on one particular indicator for several seconds, watching the needle on the meter almost imperceptibly begin dropping as another red light came on.
"Shit," I mumbled under my breathe, "That's the main coolant storage tank." My thoughts began racing and I slid over to the nearest computer terminal to get more useful information, and more importantly, help. I tapped my hooves along the keys as quickly as I could, entering commands into the machine. What I needed quickly came up on the screen in bright, green text:
Main coolant levels at 98% capacity.
Pressure at 21.8 psi and dropping.
Projected time until failure of critical systems: 4 days.
That is not good. That is not good at all.
Definitely a good time for help, I thought. I asked the computer who else had been woken up, and who was capable of being revived, and got the worst response I could imagine:
Emergency protocols are in effect.
All available personnel (1/1) have been woken.
WARNING: widespread failure of temporal gemstones maintaining chronic stasis.
functional gemstones: 1/273 - DANGER BENEATH OPTIMAL THRESHOLD
I was the only one.
Of all the ponies that made it into storage, I was the only one who had a time gem that's kept me re-animatable.
The news that I had no one to help me, no team of mechanical experts to fix everything, left me feeling like I'd been hit by a train. I slumped to the ground, petrified for a moment.
They're all going to die if I can't find a way to save them.
...
Alright, so how do I save them?
I stood back onto my four legs and faced the computer. I had to determine the cause of this, one way or another. I began typing. Is it a leak somewhere? The computer took my command and began running some diagnostic tests on the plumbing. Or maybe some of the Nitrogen gems have stopped working? I typed some more and the computer indicated that it had begun some additional tests on the gem banks.
I took some slow breathes as the programs ran, hoping that there was a simple solution to all this. Looking around me, I decided to investigate the abandoned pipbuck on the desk. Walking over to it, I saw that it was in a menu for recording and playing audio logs. Noticing one recording present, dated the same day we were preserved, I sat down and pressed play.
~~~
It was too much. The recording pushed me over an edge I hadn’t realized how precariously I’d been balanced on. I thought about my parents and cousins, and all my family that, if not killed instantly by the bombs, had been dead for longer than a century. A century. I’d been in stasis for 213 years, according to the clock of this pipbuck, and the enormity of what I’d actually done - what this entire Stable had strived so hard to do - bore down on me. I tried to handle the stress of experiencing the bombs dropping 213 years ago (but only just this morning to me). I’d pushed it from my mind, unable to cope with it, and when the problems with Stable 237 came up, and with my magic, I only pushed it further away. But the administrator’s voice, and the story of Tropical, it was too shocking. It surprised me out of the shielded reference frame I’d carefully built for myself, and the walls that protected my sanity were obliterated in an instant.
So I cried. They were wracking sobs; My entire frame was shaking as I lay on the hard concrete floor. I couldn’t think or move, I could only grieve. I grieved for the friends that had died, and for the millions of more ponies I had never met. I grieved for ponies in this Stable, whose lives had so suddenly been thrust into my hooves, and for the administrator, who sacrificed himself to give Tropical a chance at life. Tears ran down my face and matted my fur with their moisture. I was gasping and heaving, just trying to keep up with the exertion of my sobbing. I’m not sure for how long I lay there. It could’ve been an instant or an eternity. I couldn’t tell. Eventually, my tears began to slow, and my wailing grew quiet - it was just too exhausting to continue. And still I remained there on the ground, like foal who’d thrown a fit, all while feeling even more helpless. A ding was heard from the computer, indicating its analysis was done, and after a minute longer of remaining motionless, I slowly rose my head up from the floor.
My limbs felt like iron weights trapped in molasses. I strained briefly, attempting to stand, and failed. You have to get up, I thought to myself. You are not allowed to grieve for a future you have the ability to prevent. Do you understand me, Sylvester Starshine?
Looking sadly down at my legs folded under me, I attempted just to pull my left foreleg free, and nothing happened.
Sylvester. Fucking. Starshine. Do you understand me?
My internal voice was practically screaming at me, and I tried something else - I thought of what I was trying to save, and not who I might lose.
272 lives, Silver. I thought. One of which is Caramel. You can stand up for Caramel, can’t you? Think of his smile when he wakes up with you standing right there, waiting for him. When you tell him you saved the asses of every damn pony in this this place. He won’t be surprised to hear it, of course; he thinks you’re a brilliant, unstoppable genius. He’s always believed in you, so why don’t you stand up and prove him right?
Come on. It’ll be easy. All you need to do is just stand up.
I didn’t look down at myself, or try to will each of my limbs into motion one by one. I simply... stood up. I couldn’t remain paralyzed on the ground - It’s not something Caramel would expect me to do. So I just... didn’t. Steadying my breathing, I wiped what moisture remained from my eyes with a hoof. With clear vision, I made my way to the computer, ready to learn what I needed to do. The screen in front of me showed an incredible amount of information, and I quickly filtered the display down to what was the most relevant.
The problem, luckily, was simple. At least to understand, and (I hoped) to actually fix. Some portion of the coolant plumbing was leaking, at a faster rate than the Nitrogen gem bank could resupply the system, and if I could just find a way to stop the leak, then the problem was solved. I thanked the stars I didn’t have a more complicated issue to deal with. If the gemstones themselves had failed, I’m not sure what I could’ve done to repair them, especially with my own magic disabled. Reading the terminal further, it looked like the leak was traced down to a single room- no, a single pod, even. After reading the numbered designation of the offending pod, A cold feeling of dread settled in the pit of my stomach.
“You have to be kidding me,” I said to the computer in front of me, “I mean, honestly. Really? Really? Did it haveto be his?”
Why wouldn’t it be, though? Sarcastic Me thought, I mean, of course it was going to be pod 94. It’s so obviously inevitably the case. The Universe does hate me, after all.
The leak was in Caramel’s pod, of all places. I let out a frustrated scream, and cursed the stars every bit as much as I’d thanked them a moment ago. Reading more of the information, it seemed as though Caramel himself should be fine. The internal temperature of his pod had been adequately maintained since the onset of his 2nd level preservation. It also seemed like the Nitrogen wasn’t leaking into the facility. Instead, it was leaving his pod through the correct outflow pipe, though at a much faster rate than it should. Even faster than it should allow, oddly enough, so I suspected some kind of physical damage, or mechanical failure in the outflow valve itself. I walked over the desk and looked for the manual the Administrator had mentioned, easily finding it in a bottom drawer. After another failed attempt at telekinesis, I sighed, grabbed the book in my mouth, and lifted it onto the desk. It took some time to find the page I was looking for with only my hooves and mouth to work with, but I did finally get to an annotated schematic of a pod’s Nitrogen outflow valve. It didn’t give me any significant insight into how one might’ve failed, but after doing some quick math with the flow rates and the pressure of the of the system I was able to determine that an entirely compromised valve matched exactly the rate of leaking the computer had given me. I was happy to have clearly found the culprit of my woes, and now considered the possible solutions.
The simplest was what the computer had already offered me: shut off the intake to that pod. I had dismissed it as a choice the second it had appeared on screen. To stop pumping the coolant to Caramel’s pod was a death sentence. Whatever was left would eventually drain and he’d be left to thaw, and then quickly die - thanks to his lack of blood, and that wasn’t something I was willing to cause.
The valve in his pod needed either repaired or replaced, so I considered the steps I’d need to take to do so. It meant the pod did need to be drained (at least temporarily) for me to get access to the valve, and I’d need to do something with Caramel while I worked. I’d have to move him to another pod while I worked on repairing his. Seeing as everypony else’s pods were occupied, I’d have to move him to mine, and given that my gemstone was still functional, I had all the time I needed to actually fix this problem once he was moved over.
Several hours later, with Caramel moved over without incident, it was clear that solving this problem would be anything but quick. The ‘damaged’ valve was just gone, as if it had been removed entirely - or never been installed at all, and I was at wit’s end trying to consider how I could possibly do anything to fix it. There weren’t spares anywhere in the facility (and boy did I look), and the only place else I’d expect to find one was a in a Stable Tech warehouse somewhere. Stasis pod 94 was likely completely compromised - unfixable with what I had available. I was incredibly frustrated, and I was left with no other options.
I had to leave the Stable, and go outside into whatever remained of Equestria. Caramel’s pod was out of commission, so with him in mine, I was left with no way to stay here. I found and copied over some schematics from the computer to my own Pipbuck, hoping they would be useful, and, using the Administrator’s Pipbuck, I left a brief recording detailing what happened, what I did, and where I planned to go. There was a first aid kit in the Admin’s desk I happily grabbed to take with me, knowing the contents would be useful outside. Inside was a single healing potion, purified water, several bandages, enchanted bindings for a temporary splint, and a few small protein bars. I put the kit in my bags, and then made my way up to the atrium. I refilled my canteen in the nearby bathroom, and considered whether I should take the fountain gem that supplied the room with water. It could very likely be really nice to have - especially if I wandered far from here and don’t have a good alternative source of water, but it would be fragile outside its current housing and is easily retrievable if I need to come back for it anyway. I decided against taking it.
With my meager supplies, I made my way to the entrance, and activated the panel that would open the door. With a loud groan, the circular metal of the blast door slid from it frame, clanging against the track that supported it. The door shuddered and shook as it slowly spun to the side, and some light leaked in through the growing opening. After several moments the noises stopped, and I stepped out. I activated a similar panel on this side of the door, and it began working itself shut again. Looking around, I was situated in a small, dirt tunnel. Several feet forward was a crude wooden stairway, decrepit and worn from time, leading upwards into a pair of storm doors. Through the edges around and between the doors leaked some light, giving me visibility in this otherwise unlit area. I trotted forward, and as I reached the base of the stairs, I heard the blast door close shut behind me with an incredible amount of finality. Just the degradation of the stairs in front of me had me afraid of what I might find on the surface. Stepping carefully up the rightmost edge of the stairs (which appeared to be the least likely to collapse beneath me), I pushed the storm doors open, blinding myself with the daylight my eyes had been recently working very hard to do without. Once I had solid ground beneath all 4 of my hooves, I took a moment to blink several times, readjusting my vision. What I immediately noticed was the sky; I had never seen cloud cover so heavy. In every direction was a thick gray stretching all the way to the horizon. It was an unsettlingly uniform shade of gray as well - there were no gradients or thin patches that sunlight could more easily peek through.
Around me I saw a different story. Grass and plants were incredibly overgrown and patchy, offering no consistency whatsoever, and the path that lead from these doors was all but missing. The rough shape it took was still visible, even if it was more overgrown cracks than it was stone at this point. The evidence that this had once been an apple orchard was hidden well. All that remained of the trees was an occasional wooden skeleton - a tree that had been long dead and rotting, but had yet to fall down and be completely turned to dirt. I was somewhat surprised. I hadn’t expected the magical radiation to have such a complete effect on the plant life; that there weren’t any surviving apple trees troubled me more than I might’ve expected.
I followed the path as well as I could, hoping to find the farmhouse that was nearby. As I crested a small hill, I was rewarded with a happy sight. The small house was in great condition, appearing near identically to my memories of it, and I briskly made my way down down the hill. As I approached, I realized the front door was broken completely off its hinges, laying on the floor just inside. I told myself that whoever did it was likely long gone, but it still made me nervous. Now approaching the building much more cautiously, I worked my way closer and closer to the open door. Just as I was about to reach the doorstep, something inside the house stepped into my view
First I felt horror, taking in the grotesque state of what could only be some kind of pony standing in front of me. It appeared as though horrible burn-scars covered its entire body, with skin seemingly stretched to the point of looseness, and then tightly re-fused to the body, unsightly folds and all. Deep wounds pocketed the body of the pony, with huge gashes of flesh just carved free from the legs, neck, and torso. The second thing I felt was pity. Whoever this pony was, they had to be in incredible pain after recieving such severe damage to their body. I was surprised they were alive, let alone standing. I was opening my mouth to say something to them when I paused, and looked at them, no, him, in the face. Even with the discoloration of his flesh and the absence of most of his hair, I recognized him. How could I not? Staring vacantly back at me were the eyes of the last pony I saw - the Administrator of Stable 273. Dumbfounded, I watched his expression quickly change from vacant to feral, and he let out a guttural scream as he lunged across the doorstep in my direction.
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Author's Note
All magic appearing in this story is fictitious. Any resemblance to real life science, widespread or limited, is completely coincidental.
