Fallout: Hadron

by BikerPon3

Rating: mature
Tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Other, Romance, Adventure, Sex
Length: 4852

An unsuspecting human, a newly coronated Princess and her dragon assistant are thrown into a world that none of them belong to. It wouldn't have been so bad—if said world wasn't so intent on killing them...

You're probably sick of seeing that famous quote: "War, war never changes."
...well for Hadron; it did.

* * *

A young twenty-something guitarist—your average metal-head—if you will, was pretty damned content with his life. He was happy, more or less. So it was with great distress that he found himself in the presence of a talking horse—and an equally chatty dragon. Of course, it was probably just the effects of the acid he'd just been peer-pressured into taking, but still, the encounter was rather disconcerting nonetheless...

Okay, so the warnings:

This story has drug references, lots of cussing, human x pony sex, gory violence.....Seriously, If you're like, 12 or something—don't read.

This is my Fallout crossover attempt. It is not a Fallout: Equestria spin off, but something else entirely.

I hope it doesn't suck.

Published 2014-11-12 06:40:06 UTC
Last updated 2014-11-12 06:40:06 UTC

Prologue

It was often rumoured, that there once was a time when peace and equality were commonplace on Hadron. Humans had been quite content to coexist with the trinity of sapient equines that shared their planet; the two races living happily in interspecies nations for centuries—on a fertile world full of ideals and opportunity no doubt.

Knowledge had been freely shared, ponies learning from humans, humans learning from ponies. It hadn't take long after the industrial revolution for scientific pursuits to blossom, partnerships to form; the resulting leaps in technological advancement paving the way to a better tomorrow.

There was one such pursuit however, in one such nation, that had sparked controversy from start. An idea borne from the alliance of a human; known simply as Dr Oppenheimer, and a unicorn; the illustrious Atom Star. Both man and mare had credentials that were the envy of physicists the world over; past achievements that suggested their newfound partnership could only do well for the inhabitants of Columbia. Therefore, when the two paragons of science finally unveiled their creation to the country, ponies and humans alike were shocked and horrified by the implications of such a device.

Oppenheimer and Star were quick to stress that the product of the Manehattan project was only intended as a deterrent, but the citizens regarded the weapon of mass destruction with only fear and trepidation. A petition was created; requesting that it be destroyed and the project abandoned, on the grounds of the bomb being wholly unnecessary. After months of protesting, the coalition government begrudgingly agreed to disarm.

Years passed. Periods of economic prosperity and recession fluctuated, but permanently declined when the oil reserves began to run out. Sources of renewable energy were woefully underdeveloped.

A short respite from the energy crisis was granted—in the form of magically induced cold fusion—but it was too little, and far too late. Hadron was already dying, the trust between it’s two dominant superpowers had long since been lost amid various accusations, finger pointing and hoof waving.

Panic gave justification to greed—which quickly spiralled into cruelty and segregation. A conflict between the two nations began, both races fighting on either side. Decades passed, the death toll steadily growing—until the shocking events of one fateful day… the day the war changed.

…the Columbian government had lied—as governments often do. No one knew who had ordered the attack, or if they’d signed off with hand or muzzle. Either way, it hadn't really mattered in the end. Riydah—Saddle Arabia’s capital city—was wiped from the face of the planet as if it had never been, an example of the deterrent. Millions, gone in an instant. People and ponies, children and foals, their shadows forever burned into the rubble.

Widespread panic swept through Columbia, it’s citizens outraged at discovering the devastating weapon hadn't been destroyed as requested. Due to various intelligence leaks and a multitude of surveillance efforts, it was suspected that Saddle Arabia had developed their own version of balefire bombs—and were planning on retaliation.

The Columbian government was forced to act. Two teams of the country’s best scientists were assembled. One was ordered to modify the existing design of Oppenheimer and Star’s nuclear warhead; effectively creating an inter-continental ballistic variant that could be launched from a silo.

The other was to construct a number of long term nuclear shelters, known as vaults. The concept was simple; several closed ecosystems—deep underground—capable of maintaining a habitable environment for a small number of citizens in the event of a nuclear holocaust.

Over the next fifteen years, the conflict intensified. Both sides often resorted to nuclear displays of power; detonations not close enough to majorly populated areas to do any serious damage—but near enough to send a clear message. Tensions eventually grew to breaking point, until paranoia finally triumphed over rational thinking, and thus came the second fateful day… the day the war ended.

Those who had been wealthy enough to secure a place in a vault descended underground when the klaxons blared, knowing that they would never again see the light of day. Those who had no place to hide—a considerably larger proportion of the population—could do nothing but wait for hellfire to rain.

In an exchange of fission fuelled destruction that lasted only two hours—Hadron was annihilated. Vast areas of sprawling metropolis were reduced to mile after mile of dilapidated ruins; the subsequent balefire from the initial detonations burning for weeks. The world’s infrastructure collapsed, radioactive fallout bathed the surface, either killing—or hideously mutating any that had survived the barrage. The ash that contaminated the stratosphere spawned a century-long nuclear winter; only the most resilient of life forms survived without having to run to ground…

....Two hundred years after the bombs fell, all that remained of the once thriving world was a barren wasteland; a hellish realm full of demoralized humans, pessimistic ponies and post apocalyptic suffering.

Fallout: Hadron

By Bikerpon3

Author's Note

Yep...

I know this is gonna be difficult to pull off, but please—bear with me...

I love the Fallout franchise—I was following it long before I became a fan of MLP—so I couldn't resist attempting a crossover. As you can probably tell, this isn't a spin off from Kkat's masterpiece, so rest assured, Littlepip ain't gonna be making an appearance.

I'd still say it's worth reading though, (at least I hope it is) I've been throwing a few ideas around in my head for weeks now, some of them aren't even all that bad...

...but that's just my opinion. Feel free to read on and let me know if I'm right :D

Chapter One - Bad Trip

——Equestria——

“You sure about this Twi?” the young dragon asked for the third time, nervously shifting his slight weight between his feet, quill and parchment at the ready.

Twilight scoffed at his lack of conviction. “Of course Spike, I’ve checked and re-checked. If it works; this spell should effectively recreate some of the properties described in the magical analysis report for the mirror portal in Canterlot. If I can match certain specifications, a stable wormhole will be sustained within Equestria, allowing Earth ponies and pegasi to instantaneously travel great distances without the aid of a unicorn.” She gave an excited squee, clopping her forehooves together in delight.

Spike gulped. “Isn’t that like… dangerous?”

Twilight stubbornly turned her nose up. “Theoretically, the whole thing could implode on itself and create a devastating gravitational field similar to the event horizon of a black hole—but the chances of that actually happening are around eight point three times ten to the minus seventy four percent.”

“So… it’s still possible?”

Twilight gave him a skeptical look, the perfectly aligned strands of her tail flicking in annoyance. “Spike. If it was really that dangerous then Princess Celestia wouldn’t have asked me to look into it.”

“Okay okay!” Spike quickly said, readying himself to take notes again.

Twilight gave the dragon a nod, before turning, focusing her mind on everything she’d learned over the past two weeks. There was quite a lot to remember. After a solid minute of mental preparations, she allowed the magic to flow through her horn. The gems embedded into the mirror portal replica began to glow, the faint illumination gradually increasing in intensity until it filled the palace study.

*
* *
* *

——Earth——

All in all, it was a pretty good turnout at The Factory that night. The rock bar was nearly full, the sound of chattering voices and clinking pint glasses filling the cozy little British pub. The atmosphere was friendly one as the punters eagerly awaited the first act of the night to perform their set.

Battle of the bands always drew a crowd, fans and musicians alike travelled from all over the coastal city and beyond to witness the annual music competition, hosted by the pub’s charismatic landlord.

Jake—Orion’s lead guitarist—sat backstage on a battered old Marshall 1960A, his left-handed Jackson Rhoads perched awkwardly over his legs as he strummed. Riffs, rhythms, scales and backing lyrics clouded his slightly inebriated mind as he crammed in some last minute practice on his miniature battery powered belt-amp.

“Where the hell is Si?” came an angry voice, followed by the sound heels on wood. Jake stopped playing, glancing up at the newcomer.

Tara, the lead singer, was striding towards him. She looked pretty pissed off. Jake knew exactly where Simon had went, the rhythm guitarist having told him to keep quiet about it not five minutes ago.

“He’s went for a spliff with Greg hasn't he?” the singer shot at him, flicking her jet black hair out of her face.

Jake just shrugged, taking a sip of cider from the pint glass perched on top of a worn out old flight case. She was spot on, but he was getting sick of all the bickering between his band mates. Simon liked his drugs, he was a good friend but he had a serious problem when it came to weed. No doubt Greg and Tom were having a sly joint as well.

“They do this every fucking time! No wonder we never win these things, the pair of them are always more stoned than a Saudi Arabian hooker!”

Jake sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her pitiful pun. Tara certainly had a point—Orion weren’t gonna win shit with their guitarist forgetting his riffs and their drummer playing like a broken record. Still, Jake liked performing anyways, even if his band made him look like an ameteur, they were still his friends.

Si and Greg emerged from the fire exit, followed by Tom, the bassist. Tara glared at the three of them. Tom looked a little lost.

“Oh for fucks sake Tom, you didn't…” Tara began.

The bassist blinked a few times. “Wat?”

Tara facepalmed. “Why do I even put up with this shit…” she muttered to herself, storming out past the other bands now arriving backstage.

Jake sighed. “Alright, checklist,” he said, hopping down from the guitar cab. “Guitar,” he shot at Simon.

“Dude, you don't need to keep a list, we got this shit-”

“Guitar,” Jake repeated.

“It’s right there, you can feckin’ see it!” Simon exclaimed in a high voice, pointing at a black flight case. Greg and Tom gave a rather delayed chuckle.

“Plectrum.”

“Right here bro.” He held it up.

“Lead.”

“In the case.”

“You tuned up?”

“Yes. Seriously dude, you worry too much.”

Jake ignored his friend, turning to the drummer and the bassist—both of which clearly had a lot less tolerance of THC.

“Sticks?”

“...Huh?” Greg stared stupidly for a second, before blinking. “...Oh, right here bro!” He pulled a set of drumsticks from the waistline of his baggy jeans.

Drummers… Jake rolled his eyes, turning to Tom. “Bass?”

Tom blinked again. “Wat?”

Jake let out a sigh. “Where’s your bass? You did bring it, right?”

Another stupid blink. “Yea dude it’s right there.” He pointed to a four string bass leaning against an amp.

Jake rolled his eyes yet again. “That’s not yours, dumbass.”

“‘Tis!”

“No it isn’t, yours has five strings.”

He glanced at the guitar in question. “Ohhh… ‘scuse me for a sec.” He wandered off.

Jake let out another sigh. It was going to be a long night.

*
* *
* *

——Equestria——

Twilight gazed in awe at the mirror; it’s surface now swirling in an erratic blend of pink and white. That can't be right… She’d expected something more of a light teal, rather than something that bore a bizarre resemblance to strawberries and cream.

“All right! You did it Twi!” Spike exclaimed, punching at the air with a clawed fist.

Twilight blinked. “Yeah…” She absentmindedly replied, still rather puzzled by the odd result of the experiment. It should definitely be teal… or at least turquoise. Pink and white, just… didn't make any sense…

*
* *
* *

——Earth——

Jake sat with his head against the table, slowly banging it against the wood. Everyone apart from Tara (who had stormed off in a huff after the gig) was sat in Simon’s kitchen. The recollections of what had just transpired at The Factory were not pretty.

Halfway through an Iwrestledabearonce cover—That’s a Horse of a Different Colour, Greg had dropped a stick. In attempting to retrieve it, he’d fallen over and face planted the stage, his nose bursting on impact. Needless to say, Orion hadn't won jack shit.

“Cheer up Jake—here, have a couple off.” Simon offered him a joint.

“Nope.” Jake took a swig from his bottle of Bulmers pear cider instead. Simon was always trying to get him high, but Jake had never smoked, and he didn't intend to start.

“How about a bong?” His friend grinned, motioning to the multicoloured contraption in the middle of the table.

Jake sighed. “No.”

“Bucket?”

“No.”

“Lung?”

“No!”

“Okay!” He chuckled, holding his arms up in mock surrender.

The hours drew on, the kitchen slowly filling with a smoky haze as stoner music droned on in the background. Jake tried not to think about their abysmal performance at the metal bar. Greg had managed to keep his shit together—until he’d bust his nose of course—but Tom had been all over the place. The bassist’s terrible rhythm had knocked Tara out of time, making her look like an idiot. She’d yelled at him for five minutes straight before jumping on the bus home.

“Those what I think they are?” Greg asked, grinning as he pointed to a small collection of little paper squares in a small, see-through pouch next to the bong. They had wacky little designs on them.

Simon grinned, he’d obviously been waiting for someone to ask about them. “Oh yes, we’re gonna be trippin’ balls tonight lads,” he said, opening the bag and taking a little square with a skull and crossbones on it. He placed it on his tongue. “Who’s coming with me to crazy town?”

“I’m in,” Greg chirped, taking a square with a smiley face on it and placing it on his tongue as Simon had.

“How about you?” Simon asked Tom. The bassist didn't seem to even noticed he was being spoken to.

“Yo, Tom?”

“Huh?” Tom replied. He looked a little green in the face.

“Looks like he’s gonna whitey,” Greg whispered.

Simon grimaced. “Okay, no acid for you then,” He shot at Tom, whom ignored him completely. “Who does that leave…”

Here we go… “No,” Jake bluntly stated, before Simon could ask.

“Aww c’mon man, it won't be as good if just me and Greg do it.” Simon argued.

“I don’t care.”

“Dude, it’s not like it’s addictive—it’s just a one time thing!” Simon insisted, holding up the pouch of class A.

Jake sighed, before taking another swig of cider. He knew Simon probably wasn’t going to give in… Fuck it. “Okay fine.”

Jake chose a square with a little purple unicorn on it. Time to see what all the fuss is about… He popped it onto his tongue.

Simon smiled. “Takes a couple of hours to properly kick in,” He said, rolling another joint.

Jake merely shrugged.

*
* *
* *

——Equestria——

Twilight sat on her hindquarters, silently contemplating the potential ramifications of the ‘portal’ she’d just created. Something definitely seemed a little… off about it.

“So is it all hooked up to the counterpart in Princess Celestia’s study?” Spike asked, eyeing the mirror with curiosity.

“I… think so…” Twilight replied, prodding a hoof at the swirling vortex. Several ripples spread out over the surface.

“Awesome! See you in Canterlot.” Spike shot out, before running at the portal.

“Spike no!” Twilight yelped, trying to catch the dragon in a levitation field, but he’d already disappeared.

“Oh no no no no…” The alicorn chanted as she backpedalled, steeling herself, before she too ran into the vortex.

*
* *
* *

——Earth——

In the past ten minutes; the pair of pears on the Bulmers bottle sitting on the table had began to shimmer as if being viewed from behind a fire. In fact, the table itself, the bong, hell—even the faces of his friends—were all now rippling in a very uncharacteristic manner. Jake wasn’t sure if he was cool with it. It was kinda freaking him out.

“Think it’s starting to kick in—kick in—kick in,” Greg announced, his voice sounded like it was being fed through a delay module.

Okay—fun this is not… Jake thought, before wondering why he was thinking in Yoda speak—and why the latter thought hadn't been in Yoda speak…

“I don’t like this—like this—like this,” Jake mumbled. The echos were scary, his friends faces didn’t look like faces anymore and it felt like spiders were crawling all over his skin. He looked up at the ceiling—immediately wishing he hadn’t. The corners of the kitchen looked inverted, plus the ceiling appeared to be rotating. Fuck! Really like this I do not! He leapt to his feet, nearly falling over in the process.

“Woah man calm down, I know it takes some getting used to but you just gotta chillax man—chillax man—chillax man.” Simon smiled, but it looked like more of a creepy murderers grimace. Nope.

“I’m out—I’m out—I’m out.” Jake called, before grabbing his guitar, slinging it over his back and determinedly making his way toward the front door. “Catch you guys later—guys later—guys later.”

He opened the door and stepped out into the freezing night air. Simon’s house was on a busy main road. The traffic driving past now sounded more like the constant roar of a jet engine. Get home I must.

Jake could hear his friends calling his name—or at least he thought he could—for all he knew, it could just be another hallucination. He didn't bother looking back to check, instead heading for the bus that had just pulled up at the stop. Ignoring the fact that the surrounding environment seemed to be vibrating in time with it’s rumbling engine, he hopped on.

“Heworth Metro please—Metro please—Metro please,” Jake managed to say, determinedly not looking at the drivers face.

“That’ll be two-seventy—two-seventy—two-seventy,” the driver said.

Jake fumbled around in his pocket for the coins. He found them, bringing his hand up to check if he had the right amount. Several coins clattered over the floor, the sound repeating itself in his head. Fuck! Jake panicked, quickly pulling a five pound note from his wallet instead.

“Sorry—Sorry—Sorry.”

Jake finally glanced at the driver. The man had a beard, and for some reason, Jake suddenly found that certain feature rather hilarious. Trying not to laugh, he took the ticket and his change, forgetting all about the coins he’d dropped all over the floor.

As soon as he sat down the bus began to move—his fleeting amusement vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. Several people were staring at him… No, he just thought they were. His drug addled brain was making him paranoid. Get home I really need to.

*
* *
* *

Twilight was a little dizzy, which was understandable—considering she’d just been spewed out of the portal at high speed. The sound of high pitched screaming greeted her ears, causing them to lie flat in protest.

She got to her hooves and looked around, noticing she wasn’t in Princess Celestia’s study. This place looked more like a train station. Two platforms sat on either side of a set of tracks. The panelled walls were white, and had a long yellow stripe running the length of them, on which the word ‘Heworth’ was written in large black letters.

Several young boys—not unlike those she’d seen at Canterlot High—were screeching in fear at the sight of Spike—who looked more than a little confused. The boys were wearing rather odd clothing; striped baggy tracksuit trousers, flashy hoodies, white trainers and odd looking hats.

“'Ere, wot the fuck is that mate!”

“Eee, a dinnar like.”

“Holy fuck mate, there’s a purple horse, innit!”

Twilight gasped. “Such foul language, I should report you all to Principal Celestia!” she snapped.

The boys fell silent, their mouths hanging open in shock. After a couple of seconds, they all fled, screaming at the top of their lungs.

“I don’t get it…” Twilight muttered to nopony in particular.

Spike blinked. “You’re still a pony… and I’m still a dragon… wherever we are, I don’t think this is the Canterlot High world,” he said, gazing around at the odd looking train station.

Twilight glanced back at the wall she’d emerged from, it was completely solid. “Oh no—the portal has destabilised!”

“You can make another one, right?” Spike nervously asked.

“I… I don’t know, it would be really difficult without a mirror as a foundation for the spell—plus I clearly messed up, what if it happens again?” Twilight blurted out.

“Relax Twi, you’ll figure it out,” Spike said, gazing at her with utmost confidence.

Twilight took a deep breath. “You’re right, I can do this.”

*
* *
* *

It was getting worse. Jake had somehow managed to get off at the correct stop—despite the fact he was now seeing things that blatantly weren't real. Odd patterns were flashing over the path outside of the Metro station. He was pretty sure he even saw a snake slither round a corner.

He ignored the hallucinations as best he could. Real, they are not. Fumbling in his pocket for some change, he fed two pound coins into the ticket machine. It promptly spewed them back out. He fed them in again, only for it to reject them again. It took him another four times of experiencing the same result to realise the machine didn't have any change—which meant he had to provide the correct amount. Dumbass. After inserting the right coins, the machine printed out his ticket. Finally.

As Jake descended the steps down onto the platform, he thought of the abandoned Metro tunnels of Fallout’s post-apocalyptic Washington DC. Great. Sure enough, the image of a ghoul emerged from the shadows at the bottom of the stairwell. Jake grimaced. Not real. Not real. All in your head it is… The Yoda speak was beginning to annoy him, but he couldn’t help it.

Rounding the corner onto the platform, he ran straight into a dragon—and a purple unicorn that kinda resembled the one from the acid tab he’d taken.

“Oh come on!—Come on!—Come on!” Jake snapped. He’d had enough of his tripping brain trying to scare the shit out of him.

The dragon was about two feet tall, purple, with green scales. It was throwing him a nervous glance. The unicorn had wings—because why the fuck not?—and it’s eyes were shining.

Jake stepped closer, he was done being scared of shit that wasn’t real. Taking a closer look at the unicorn, he noticed it had a purple mane and tail, with a pink stripe running through each. A bright pink star surrounded by five smaller white ones adorned it’s flanks.

“Twilight! Hurry!—Twilight! Hurry!—Twilight! Hurry!” the dragon yelped, before latching onto one of the unicorn’s legs. The latter’s horn began to glow. Jake presumed this was an attack, so he launched himself at the unicorn, expecting to pass right through the vivid hallucination.

But of course, he didn't. What actually happened was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever experienced. It felt like he was being crushed and stretched at the same time, a very displeasing lurching effect shot through his body. The image of the ghoul from the staircase flashed in his mind once again—as well as the image of a vault door—before he landed on a shimmering, grey floor, the unicorn draped over him.

*
* *
* *

——Hadron——

Twilight disentangled herself from the human she’d just landed on top of. Where the hay did he come from? A foul rotting smell immediately assaulted her olfactory sense, causing her to gag. Sweet Celestia that’s bad. Getting to her hooves, she glanced around at the new surroundings, noticing once again that she’d ended up somewhere she hadn’t intended to go.

A large machine dominated the centre of the metal room. Lightning was sparking from four metal spires on top of it. Several crates, and machines that looked like scientific equipment littered the corners. Two long rectangular windows, thick with grime, provided a limited view of a couple of side rooms. Twilight had never seen anything like it.

“Spike, you here?” she called.

“Y-Yeah,” the dragon stuttered, emerging from one of the side rooms with a panicked look on his face. “Twi… I don't like this place.”

Twilight gave the dragon a sympathetic look before turning to the human, who was clutching his oddly shaped bag to his chest and rocking back and forth slightly. He had long brown dreadlocks that fell past his shoulders, a stocky, muscular frame and skin the colour of peach.

“It’s not real Jake, none of any of this is real…” he gasped.

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked.

He ignored her, keeping his eyes tightly closed and continuing to whisper reassurances to himself.

Twilight frowned “He mustn't be used to seeing ponies talk-”

“Twi,” Spike interrupted. “I really don't like this place…”

“Me neither Spike, I-”

“There’s a dead pegasus out there.” The dragon squeaked, pointing at the metal doorway he’d just emerged from.

“What? Are you serious?” Twilight gasped, trotting over to the doorway. She almost vomited at the sight of the mangled corpse, one of the wings had been torn off.

“Sweet merciful Luna! We n-need to go…” Twilight yelped, backpedalling in horror. Grabbing Spike with her hooves and wrapping her wings around the unresponsive human, she tried to teleport.

Nothing happened.

*
* *
* *

Hours had passed… or had it just been minutes? Either way, Jake ignored the world around him. After a long time—or maybe no time at all—the shimmering stopped, but for some reason, the hallucinations didn't. He could still see the little dragon and the winged unicorn, only now in much more detail. He also noticed he was sitting in a room that had an uncanny resemblance to the generator room of a Vault-Tec vault.

Nope. I must still be trippin’, he thought, closing his eyes. At least he wasn't thinking in Yoda spe-

...shit. His thoughts were clear… which probably meant that he had indeed sobered up. The sound of the electrical sparking from the generator no longer had an odd delayed effect. He opened his eyes again. Dust was clearly visible in the air, the gun metal grey room was indeed shockingly familiar, only this time he could smell the disgusting musty odour that was always absent in gameplay…

“No,” he croaked, his voice rough from lack of use.

“Sorry, didn't quite catch that,” said a feminine voice.

Jake jumped, searching for the speaker. His heart nearly stopped dead when he saw the unicorn smiling at him.

“Are you feeling better now?” she asked.

Jake just sat there, his mouth hanging open. Why did I let Simon talk me into taking LSD? I’ve only went and lost my fucking mind!

He supposed he should probably respond. “U-Unicorns don’t talk… or exist…” he trailed off.

The unicorn smiled. “Actually they do both, and I’m not a unicorn… well, I used to be… but I became an alicorn shortly before my corin-”

“No!” Jake snapped, shaking—the shock was starting to kick in. “Am I in a coma or something? What the fuck was in that LSD? Why the fuck are we in a vault?”

The unicorn recoiled slightly. “Well, you dived on me as we were teleporting-”

“You weren’t supposed to be REAL!” Jake interrupted. He knew he was sober now, which made his current situation all the more frightening.

The unicorn looked hurt by his words, causing Jake to experience a bizarre wave of guilt. He cleared his throat, intending to apologise, but couldn’t quite form the words.

When she didn't say anything, he started talking—because quite frankly, he didn't know what else to do. “Look, I did something stupid okay? I took LSD, a psychoactive drug that causes people to see crazy things. I’m back to normal now, so I sure as hell shouldn't be sitting in a vault with a unicorn and a dragon!”

The unicorn blinked. “Ohh… So this ‘LSD’ acts upon the central nervous system, altering the user’s perceptions? That explains a lot… I’m Twilight Sparkle by the way, what’s your name?” She smiled.

“Jake Williams,” he replied, getting to his feet and hoisting his guitar onto his back.

“It’s nice to meet you Jake, this is Spike,” she said, gesturing a purple hoof to the dragon.

“Hey d-dude,” he stuttered.

Of course—the dragon talks as well… He thought, glancing around for something he could use as a weapon. He really didn't want to be correct in his assumption that he was now stuck in a post apocalyptic hell hole, but it was certainly looking that way.

“You said this place is a ‘vault’, what exactly does that mean?” Twilight asked.

Jake observed her for a few moments, his expression tense. “It means we're probably going to die soon.”

Author's Note

Drugs are bad...

...don't do them.