Despite the throbbing pain in my limbs, I pressed forward, my desire to survive the day my only goal. I darted in and out of alleys, hoping that I wasn't catching the attention of my cruel tormentors. Every now and then, I heard one of them coming by, or saw their elongated shadow brushing against the crumbled walls of this ghost town. Every time I caught wind of their presence, I hid.

Sometimes I would find a large object that could shield such a large body like mine. But most of the time, I would have to rely on stealthy jumps and speed, perching above them or sprinting silently right under their noses the second they looked away.

This went on for the next half hour or so. I had no idea what time it was, so I was just guessing. But unfortunately, in a town populated by horses that want to kill you, it was only a matter of time before I was caught. It happened when a flimsy support beam jutting out of a barber shop's ruins that acted as my safe spot shattered under my weight, and I fell on top of one of the killers. Needless to say, the stallion was not happy with becoming my landing pillow.

I had only managed to escape being hunted down entirely because the sniper pony was the only one alive who saw me, and his comrades had a hard time believing him when he said that a giant blue frog had gone into that empty alley. But now more of these dicks would be on me within seconds, and eventually it would become Frog Hunting season. And there was no smart-ass bunny to use reverse psychology and have the whole thing just become a harmless gag when I got shot.

"U-umm..." I stuttered, picking myself up off the malicious male, "thanks?" I ran when he pulled out an assault rifle and took aim.

With the loud noise right behind me echoing off the crumbling walls, I was out of time and luck. They would be on me before I knew it.

Panicking, I made a run for it towards a beaten-up building made to look like a carousel. I dove through a shattered window and tried to catch my breath. Going through the window was quieter than using a door that was most likely loud and creaky from years of neglect and mis-use, and the bell that was attached to door would have made more noise. I almost wanted to take down the instrument, but I figured that these ponies would more likely than not use the door to get in, and it would alert me to any intruders.

I probably picked a bad place to momentarily rest, when I saw how these violent monsters decided to decorate the place.

The walls might've been quite elegant and pleasing to eyes at some point, but the crude graffiti painted in blood and other vile liquids made it difficult to tell. Definitely not good for market value. But that large intestine dangling from the ceiling is genuine and aged, and it really brings out the room!

Stop that, I scolded myself. I've been here for all of a few hours. There's no need to start saying or thinking delirious shit.

I explored the building, deciding that if I was going to book a night here, I might as well try to see what the place has stocked. After slowly opening a door that was marked with "Fuck Red Eye's cause!" in someone's guts, I found myself in what used to be the kitchen. Of course, the place was looted and stripped clean of food and supplies. Despite being sentient and capable of speaking English, these animals were just that: animals. They were feral, merciless, and listened to instinct a lot more than their conscience.

It's real eye-opening experiences like this that really put things in perspective. Back home, pokémon that lived in the wild were still way more civilized and sensible than these ponies. They never killed, they were mostly herbivorous, and really only did bad things when they had good reason to. Pokémon were good creatures at heart, but these... monsters had a hideous dark-side, and resorted to killing their friends, family, and any others who came near when they weren't absolutely content.

Kind of like humans.

I was upstairs, fucking around with an odd TV when I heard voices coming from the main floor. I stopped what I was doing immediately and tip-toed to a small hole in the floor that led to the entryway. Looking through it, I saw two more of the violent horses coming in. They were brownish stallions, one with a baseball bat that was covered in nails and sharp objects, and another with a sniper rifle that looked surprisingly intact compared to it's bent and warped friends.

The one carrying the rifle put down his gun to talk, since he had to hold it in his mouth. "So you think that tainted thing came into here?" The other horse only nodded, his spiked bat still in his maw. The first one shook his head. "I don't know. We haven't gotten any sightings of a strange creature within the past few hours." He paused. "Other than the occasional Bloat-sprite, of course. It could've snuck out of town by now."

What the hell is a bloat-sprite? A bug with an eating-problem?

The bat-pony spat out his club. "I don't think so. The bugger would have been spotted by now, and his head would be jelly. It's obviously just hiding somewhere in Ponyville, and we've been too stupid to find the thing yet." He paced around, giving the place a bemused glare. "That monster thinks it can out-smart us? Please, it'll be dead and gutted by tomorrow night. And we'll be dancing around it's carcass, savoring the taste of victory once again."

After foolishly picturing that thought and shuddering, the first stallion just looked around the room in a bored fashion. "Yeah, okay. And while you're prancing around like a zebra, I'll be getting it on with Thorny Rose." He smirked. "My beautiful rose..."

His friend groaned. "You two have been banging each other every night for the past two weeks, now. The whole town already knows, idiot. No need to be announcing it to the heavens every time."

He chuckled. "Maybe, but she's just that wonderful in be-" He paused when his gaze passed mine. Uh oh. I quickly moved away from the peep-hole, hoping he didn't notice anything.

"What?"

"I saw something in that hole. There's somepony upstairs, I think."

"I knew it!"

Shit.

As silently as I could, I looked around for a hiding place. Luckily, I was in someone's bedroom, and there was a big closet in there. I dove in, quietly shutting the door behind me. There was no lock, but that didn't matter at all. If they found out the door was locked, the ponies would most likely just shoot me through the door. So instead I backed my body up against a wall and waited.

The attackers didn't keep me waiting for long at all, judging by their loud and hurried hoofsteps up the stairs. They soon burst into the room, yelling profanities and ransacking the place for me. They soon stopped, and everything became quiet. They whispered to each other, but as a Greninja, I could still hear them clear as a bell.

"The closet's closed. The eavesdropper is probably in there."

"Well then, blast the thing!"

"We should check first. But we need to do it quietly so that they don't see us coming."

"Fine, just hurry up!"

The sounds of soft clops came from the other side, slowly becoming louder. I was doomed.

Why me? WHY? I hardly got to say goodbye to my home before I was thrust into this hellish landscape, populated with malicious creatures! Why couldn't it be someone else? And why ONLY me?! Why do I have to die? And why alone?! WHY-

The door opened, and the pony came in with his bat swinging wildly.

But there was nobody there to hit. Just tattered rags and ripped up horseshoes. The creature looked around for me in confusion, swearing out loud for not finding me.

"Did you find anything?" The rifle pony asked. The horse wielding the spiked bat shook his head, grumbling under his breath. He slammed the door shut in frustration. The two soon left the room, one laughing at the other's expense.

I sighed in relief, limbs trembling as they planted themselves to the surrounding walls. "And here I thought that hiding on ceiling, inches from the murderer's head only worked in the movies."

The TV was something else, being a strangely futuristic type of device. It was almost like a computer, but not quite so. Tinkering around with it was fruitless, due to needing a password to access the inner reaches of the machine. And since I had no idea what the password would be like, I just spouted random words that sounded nice.

I tried fancy words, because this torn-apart, ransacked pile of bricks looked like it might've been a classy boutique at one point. But the password was not one of high caliber, sadly. So then I tried clothing related terms, hoping that that theory would hold water.

It held water about as good as thin, soggy paper. I soon became bored and gave up trying. It wasn't long before I was typing incoherent shit.

Unicycle? Access denied.

Okay. How about chicken? Access denied.

Oh poo. Maybe kumquat kumquat kumquat? Access denied.

Aw. Apple, perhaps? Access granted. Welcome.

Gee, that's a surprise..... hey, that actually is a surprise!

With renewed vigor, I delved into the files that were perhaps not meant for the average horse to know. As I typed and touched away, my mind began to wander.

Back then it was only a thought, but now I have generated a tick where I rub my ridiculously long tongue. And oh man, that's something I wished I had back in the days I was on Earth. Gently caressing the piece of skin is both therapeutic in how it calms me, and it helps me focus and increase my mind's efficiency. It's a little dry, but smooth like glass, and softer than any scarf I've ever had. I think I may have a fetish, to be honest.

Running my hands across my tongue, I realized that this computer had nothing to offer me. Not that I'm saying that whatever these ponies put on there was of no worth, but that the files were all corrupted and un-salvageable. I sighed, chastising myself for thinking that I could glean some information, and gather some pieces to solve the puzzle that plagued this wasteland and my mind. It all seemed for naught.

Right before I gave up, however, I found something. It was an old file, in the early stages of corruption like it's ruined siblings, but still mostly intact. Smirking under my tongue-scarf, I looked into it.

It was an audio message, one that was apparently sent from Sweet Apple Acres. It didn't take Einstein to figure out that the area full of dead trees and a lone barn among large piles of wood and metal used to be that particular farm.

I gave a depressed sigh to the empty building. This land really was nice once, wasn't it? A land where you could have a nice, green, fertile patch of land to grow an orchard, and raise a family on a wholesome farm. And the sad thing was, there was nothing left to avenge. Whoever dealt the damage was most likely dead now, and their descendants killed off for the atrocities committed by their parents.

What's done is done, I told myself, and there's nothing left to do but find out what happened to cause such a disaster, and take the necessary measures to prevent such a thing from happening ever again.

I played the message, wondering what the sender had given to their friend. I didn't let the fact that this was something kind of personal I was breaking into without permission deter me from my objective.

The voice belonged to a female in her prime. It was delivered sweet and silky, a voice that was firm, but carried tones of gentleness along with it. She had a southern accent, but it suppressed in order to make the recording sound infinitely more serious.

“...special instructions for Stable Two... ...that’s muh family down there! Until the poison is gone from up here, that door doesn't open for anypony!”

Poison? Wait, what? No, they-

“...know you hate this, Sweetie Belle, but you’re an Overmare now. The Overmare of the most important Stable in all of Equestria. I need you to do this for me... ...to keep them safe... ...best friends forever, remember?...” The message ended after that.

Well, that's just dandy. I had just listened to someone's... oh, sorry, somepony's last wish. As sad as that is, I'm still not used to these stupid ponyisms, as Equestrians call it.

The recording was faded in a few spots, but I still got the message: dangerous toxins were released up here on the surface long ago. I was sitting on top of a graveyard of these creatures.

But what about these "Stables"? And Overmare? That must be a position of authority, judging by the name alone. So a mare named Sweetie Belle was ruler over a... stable?

I was puzzled over this Stable nonsense. I figured that in this desolate land, it had to be a bunker. It certainly explained how so many of them survived. It still made me wonder though...

The sky outside the grimy window became dark, signaling the night had finally arrived. The day had been spent, and I had officially stayed here in the post-apocalyptic landscape for an entire day.

Woo. Someone give me a medal.

I wondered if sleeping here was a good idea, considering how this place was rather out of place amongst the rubble. But seeing as how sneaking out before I had a chance to formulate a strategy was out of the question, it was best to rest and gather my energy for tomorrow.

As a trainer and vigilante, I can't tell you how frustrating it is to not have any sort of plan on the backburner. Nothing to fall back on but instinct. It was especially frustrating since acting on instinct seemed to be the norm around here. Nothing to really separate me from the other violent animals.

Needless to say, that thought scared me.

The best chance I had for sleeping safely in this building was to find a secluded spot, one that was preferably hidden.

I searched the place for something I could use as an effective hiding place. The downstairs was a bit too close to the entrance for my comfort, meaning that a spot upstairs was my best bet. So I began my little quest for a hidden bed.

After an hour of rather pathetic searching, I had made little headway in the ideal spot. I was about to give up on that idea, but the wasteland can sometimes give you a break, if you survive long enough. I remember contemplating if I could somehow sleep perched on the ceiling like a bat, when I saw a brief gleam on the ceiling in the walk-in closet. The shine was only for a second, but I saw it still, and it prompted me to climb my way over the walls and towards shiny object.

I did so slowly, just in case this was some sort of trap set by those trigger-happy equines. Luckily, it was not a trap, but in fact a dusty, grimy, old knob. Jiggling the knob a bit caused a little door to make itself known. It was cleverly hidden amongst the dust and a subtle paint job. After a firm tug, the door flung open. The only thing I could see for a few moments was a large cloud of dust and decay. Coughing, I waved my arms around in an attempt to clear the air.

I forgot momentarily that I was already using those arms to keep myself propped up on the walls. When I started to fall to the floor, I dug my webbed-feet harder into the parallel walls. This only caused me to flip upside down, my arms hanging uselessly down, and my legs far-apart, doing the splits. I groaned at my compromising position, thanking whatever gods that watched over these dead lands that nobody was here to see me.

After readjusting myself to the proper form again, I could finally see through the cloud of dust, and I was free to climb in.

A swift parkour demonstration later, and I was in. I crouched low to the floor, scanning my surroundings before I dared move. For all I knew, this place wouldn't be capable of holding my weight. From my previous classes involving Greninjas, the ninja frogs weighed from 80 to 90 pounds, depending on the diet and exercise they had. I just didn't know if this rickety old room could hold that much weight in one little area.

Another cool perk to being a Pokémon was I could look around my surroundings, and generate plans, ideas, and store away information for later in a matter of seconds. I could take one look at a designated spot, and tell you just about anything about that one spot to a degree that would almost scare you. All I needed was a few moments to just sit and do nothing but observe. Plus, I was part Dark-type, and Dark-types are very good friends with the night and dark spaces. My night vision allowed me to see better than most, despite the extremely poor lighting conditions.

Within a span of ten mere seconds, I knew that this attic space was sturdy enough for the most part, but I still needed to watch out for weaker boards that could shatter and crumble under my weight if I so much as breathed on it. A few holes in the roof were large enough to allow clouded-over moonlight to reach the inside. I would find sleep soon, but in my look-see, I spotted a small box that looked intact. The perch I had found would see me soon, but first I had to sate my curiosity.

Quietly closing the door under me and making sure it was secure, I prepared to gingerly tip-toe my way over. I stopped myself. Taking a look at my webbed-hand, I decided to try something else entirely. I smirked under my tongue-scarf, thankful that I had turned into one of the stealthiest creatures in existence.

In retrospect, I probably looked like a complete klutz compared to real Greninjas, but for a rookie, I didn't think I looked half-bad. I jumped, sprinted, somersaulted, slid, dove, bobbed, weaved, and stepped my way over to the box without causing a single board to break.

Taking a gander close up, the box looked like it had seen it's fair share of damage. It was grey and smooth, but completely and utterly burnt. The scorch marks were burned deep into the chest, and a great number of rotted holes and craters covered it. The lock was so old and beaten-up, a strong tug from my new muscles ripped it right off. With the barrier out of the way, I opened up the chest, wondering what awaited me inside the object.

The inside of the chest was completely untouched, and a soft velvet padding lined it. Obviously, whoever designed the box added multiple thick layers to ensure the contents inside would be safe.

Speaking of contents, I reached inside the chest, using both arms to dig around in the dark, wondering what would be inside the locked chest. My net-like hands finally grasped something, and I pulled it out for the world to see. I held the object above my head, trying to determine what the hell it could possibly be.

It was small, and red. It looked like an earpiece of some sort. The design looked vaguely like a Kalos pokédex, with red edges and a round blue center. Shrugging, I decided to put it on, seeing as how it's previous owner was probably dead in a ditch somewhere. There was even a chance he/she was pissed on a few times.

Whoa whoa WHOA. Jeez, where did that come from?! Cut that shit out, dude! It's been ONE DAY. Get a grip already.

After a few awkward moments of realizing I had no ear to clip it to, I settled on attaching it to the base of my yellow appendages sticking out the sides of my head. I tapped it, wondering if it still had salvageable parts. Not realizing I had tapped the middle circle, I jumped in surprise when I heard a faint hum, and the earpiece started talking to me.

Hello, Miss Rarity. Welcome back. It's been quite a while since your last usage. Busy?

The AI was speaking in a robotic voice, but it also held a southern drawl that sounded familiar. A moment to think and I remembered that it sounded a lot like the mare who recorded that message to Sweetie Belle. I felt a surge of guilt, knowing that was just stealing from dead beings with feelings, thoughts, and great intelligence.

Forgetting momentarily that I didn't speak their native language, I tried to respond. "Um, actually, I'm not Miss Rarity. I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong person."

The AI was confused by the unfamiliar language. Error. Language not recognized. Insufficient data.

I cursed. "Dammit, I forgot you horses don't speak pokélish!"

The AI, however, was not one to be deterred when faced with a new learning experience, as I soon discovered. Apologies, unknown user. Ah do not understand your speech pattern. Please wait a moment as Ah gather data. A faint chiming occured, as if it was loading something. Please speak these following words: Hello.

"Hello?"

Excellent.

"Excellent?"

Food.

"...Food."

Strategy.

"Strategy."

Government.

"Government..."

Goodbye.

"Goodbye?" Okay, what was this girl doing?

Thank you. Ah have now gathered sufficient data to process this new language. Please wait as Ah decipher the new information.

Process the new language? But wouldn't that mean...

It should take about 12 hours to complete this process. Entering sleep mode now. Goodnight, new user. And with that, my new buddy went silent.

I took off the earpiece, wondering what she meant by all that. Wait, should I refer to the AI as a she? Do I just call the thing an "it"? No, that would sound rude, considering how polite it seemed to me. Hey, why does it matter if I'm rude? She doesn't have feelings.... right?

....And how the fuck do these primitive horses have such futuristic technology?!

Contemplating my predicament seemed to be the only thing I did when I wasn't on the run. But when you have so many unanswered questions floating around in your mind, it's hard to think of anything else. I laid there, arms behind my head, and my legs crossed. I was laying on top of a particularly wide and large beam in the attic. It was sturdy enough to hold three of me, and a nice skylight peeked through a hole in the roof.

I sighed. Even if this was the fallout of a nuclear war, the cloud layer shouldn't be this thick and this consistent. No, something unnatural and odd was going on about that. That, I was sure of.

This land was depressing enough without the dangerous locals, I thought. Everything beautiful and pure was gone. Wiped out and destroyed by those irrational enough to consider a better alternative. I never liked nuclear stuff, anyway. We settled things just fine without that as a "last resort". Honestly, the outcomes were much better back before it was discovered.

And then there was me. I pulled out my hand. My blue, webbed, three fingered hand. I wasn't a human anymore. I was a pokémon. A creature that was destined to follow the beck and call of their trainer. If I ever got back home, who knows how quickly I'd be snatched up? A wild Greninja wouldn't last too long on his own without someone eventually catching him.

And my friends would never see me again. Oh, my poor buddies. Without a trainer of their own, they would be separated from each other, put up for adoption by the city. Trainers would come for them, and claim them without hesitation. And they would probably shake their heads, thinking I was a disgusting trainer for abandoning my pokémon to fend for themselves in the slums of the harsh city.

My eyes became wet. I did abandon them all. It didn't matter if it was against my will or not. I had left them by themselves, without a clue as to where their friend went. For all they knew, I was dead. I sniffled, a tear rolling down my face, my tongue getting a sensation of salty bitterness. Better I be dead than alive to face my horrible guilt.

I went to sleep, hoping that my depression would wear off in the morning. At least then there was a chance I could see my family all together one more time before they were taken from me.

"He's still asleep. What do we do?"

"I do not know, Celebi. The young one is obviously worn out from emotional and physical stress."

"Hey, I think he's coming to!"

I groaned in response. "Five more minutes, mom. I don't need two hours..."

"Very funny. Maybe a brighter light will wake you up! Dazzling Gleam!"

I did not expect the sun to become 300 times brighter, or to be aimed at my face. "GAH! MY EYES!" I rolled around on the floor, screaming as I pleaded with the gods to have mercy on me.

"Celebi, I don't think that was a good idea."

"Why not? He needed to get out of bed, right?"

"...But he's a Dark-type. You just used a super effective move on him."

"Yeah, that was kind of the point." I was still whimpering on the ground, scrambling around in a dazed heap. "I just didn't expect him to be such a baby about it." I remember a giggle, though it's possible that was just my angry imagination.

"That was the first attack ever used on him. I'd imagine he would be disoriented by a Fairy-type move."

I gasped, struggling to open my burning eyes. I eventually succeeded, but I still felt like my entire face was singed by the sun. I was glad to be on the ground still, because when I looked up, I saw three legendaries staring right at me. I froze, my mind processing the image. Dialga, Palkia, and Celebi were just a few feet away from me. We were all on a stone platform floating in a white expanse, void of anything. I was still a Greninja, lying in a heap on the floor.

Dialga started speaking to me telepathically. "Hello, Miles. We have been expecting you."

Author's Note

DUN DUN DUN.

So sorry for taking forever to update, guys! PLEASE FORGIVE ME, SENPAI!

But you know, life and stuff. I'm just glad I got this out now. But alas, who knows when my next update will be?! Hopefully next week, but who knows? You can all berate me if a new chapter isn't out by next Sunday. Please do, I need the motivation.

But honestly? You guys and your positive responses to my side-story was what prompted me to keep going! Thank you all so much for your support! If I wasn't a low-voiced guy, I'd probably be squealing. But I'm a guy, and I still have Man-standards.... though a lot of that has been thrown away since I joined the brony fanbase. Oh well! See you guys next time!