Fallout Equestria: Revenge

Two days. That's how long we waited. I had to gather my thoughts. Mr. Guy, our best asset and friend, is gone. Wood Whittle wants to kill me. My own fucking son wants to behead me with a rusty cutlass. What kind of bullshit is that? My eye was dead because I shot a giant death ray, which hurt like a motherfucker. I had killed countless ponies in Fillydelphia. First the slavers. Then the three in the pit. Maybe fifty of Red Eye's thugs. Then seventeen griffins. So what was my body count for the one day. A hundred? Maybe more?

I don't know. What's the point in this? Just because I had been blown up, I can go on a rampage and kill hundreds in the span of a week and half? Was that who I was becoming?

I remembered the boss of the White Sock Society. How I had pounded her to a pulp before Alph had stopped me. I killed her. And I didn't even bother with a name. I had killed her, indiscriminately, because she was a cannibal. I remembered Mr. Watts. How he'd taunted me with the notion that he had raped my wife. And I sentenced him to a slow death by being eaten by bugs. I wasn't a stallion anymore. I wasn't even a pony anymore. I had become insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity and awareness.

I was an arbiter. I had taken it upon myself to give out the death sentence because I had deemed it necessary. That was what I was becoming. A voice in my head told me it was for revenge. Another told me I was no better than a raider with a plan. The first told me it was necessary. The second told me not to embrace this path. The first said I was a vigilante. The second said I was a demon. Born in fire and raised by technology and magic, who was willingly killing for myself. The first s-

"No," I said aloud. Comedy looked at me.

"What?" she said.

"I'm not a monster," I said, "And I'm not a vigilante. I have let myself become a murderer, caught up in my own selfish desires. Well no more. From this point on, I will only kill if I cannot help but do so. Non-lethal."

Comedy nodded, without a word. Alph walked up.

"Too many ponies know you already," she said, "It would be bad if you came back and everypony thought of you as some big bad guy. We can start over. You've dropped off the map, so come back a hero."

"Yes," I said pointing to her, "Perfect, we have to change our names, become completely new ponies."

"Does that mean I'll have to be a pony all the time?" asked Alph.

"No, I don't think so," I said, "But me and Comedy have to assume different names. Like a pen name. I will be Swift Round. I was dis-honorably discharged from the Steel Rangers after I went AWOL to save a platoon. I sustained major injuries in the process of doing so, so I left, rebuilt my limbs and now I'm here."

"Hmm," said Comedy with a hoof to her chin. Then she came up with something, "I am Golden Dawn. I was a resident in a Stable, but was forced to leave because of several broken systems. Many of the other residents went another way, and I met with you."

"Okay good," I said, "Now we have to remember the stories, and we can't let anything slip about who we actually are. I think we can safely go out without drawing attention. When we need food or water, we have to find a trader. Steer clear of towns and cities as much as possible."

"Makes sense," said Comedy, "So where is the big bad guy?"

"No," I said, "We aren't going to find the Judge first. We have to go back to Fillydelphia."

"What!?" exclaimed Comedy, "After all this time, we're not even going after the Judge!? And on top of that we're going back to the place we just ran from?"

"No you don't understand," I said, but there was no stopping Comedy.

"I was chained to the ground in a shitty room underneath an arena," shouted Comedy, "And you want to go back?"

"Listen-"

"No you listen!" said Comedy, now very angry, "Going back there would be beyond counter-intuitive! It be flat out stupid!"

"They have Whittle!" I finally shouted. This made her stop.

"What?" she asked in a small voice.

"Red Eye has Wood Whittle," I said, "And we are going back to Fillydelphia."

Comedy's anger totally hit a wall. She teared up slightly and began to shake her head.

"No," she said, "Whittle is dead. He has to be. We watched him die."

"Tell that," I said swallowing, "To my son who tried to behead me."

"I-no, but-he," Comedy stuttered, "But he-he-why would he do that?"

"Red Eye brainwashed him, just like he did a lot of others," I said, "And we are going to Fillydelphia."

I had learned to read emotions pretty well. Comedy had begun to go through the five stages of grief. She had gone away from anger and bargaining. She had begun to sob. Alph walked up and comforted her. I did the same. She then went on to acceptance. I was almost surprised at how fast she had gone through these stages, and had completely skipped bargaining.

"Okay," said Comedy, "No. We're not going to Fillydelphia."

"What?" I said, "Why not?"

"We have to get the Judge," she said, "He's behind all this. I want to see him dead."

"But we can't just leave Whittle there," I argued.

"And who's responsible for Whittle being brainwashed?" she asked, "I don't know if you listen to the radio or not, but do you know who brainwashes ponies for Red Eye?"

"Oh no," I said with realization. Was the Judge really responsible?

"Yes," said Comedy, "Dj Pon3 often talks about Red Eye and how he has a henchman that brainwashes ponies into doing what he wants them to."

"Why can't anything be easy?" I said picking my saddlepacks and battle saddle, "Saddle up. We're going to Canterlot."

It felt different without Mr. Guy. Like something was missing from the world. I shook my head. No use crying over spilled Sparkle Cola. We pressed on, coming across nothing in about an hour. Then we heard gunshots. It was a familiar sound, but something was off. They sounded like they were lasers. Audible charging sounds and discharges were the only return fire. I got to the top of a hill and looked on in bewilderment. A lone buck was absolutely dominating the battlefield.

He was stout, and almost as tall as me. He wore some kind of armor. It didn't look very effective since it only wrapped around his legs and a small amount covering his body and neck. Yet somehow, he was taking bullets like they were nothing. A sniper shoots him in the leg. He only stumbles before shooting a small beam of energy in an arc, slicing off the sniper's head.

He was bouncing all over the battlefield using boots that shot fire like rockets and dealing crippling blows. I pulled out the Tundra Hawk and tried to use the targeting computer. TAC I had started to call it. Only then did I remember that my eye was dead. I grumbled and aimed at one of the raiders. Luckily, my marksmanship was still on point and the raiders head exploded.

I charged in, firing rounds off and killing two more raiders. The buck saw me coming in and hid for some reason. I quickly dispatched of the other raiders. I looked around, trying to find where the buck had gone. Eventually I found him, but he caught me off guard and punched me in the chest. I stumbled back, stunned.

He came at me again, but this time I was ready. He threw kicks and punches and I managed to dodge them all, but he was incredibly quick. He jumped over my head and landed with a thud. I whipped around just to get bucked in the face. I stalked back, checking to see if I was bleeding. Sure enough, there was a steady stream of blood running down my possibly broken nose.

"Big mistake," I said in a low voice. I stayed where I was and when he came up on me, I drew the Tundra Hawk quicker than he could move and fired. The bullet caught him right in his armor, almost piercing it and punched him back a few feet. I ran and slid, kicking upward. My back hoof got him right in the neck.

He fell to the ground, choking, his trachea surely collapsed. I ran forward and quickly poured a healing potion down his mouth. He began to stop choking as his neck inflated a bit where I had kicked him and slowly healed.

"Hold on now," I said, "You're not about to go and die on me."

"Okay," he rasped, "Sorry."

"No, don't be," I said, "I probably scared you."

He only nodded.

"Hey kid," I said, "What's your name?"

"Circuitry," he said, "My name's Circuitry."

I nodded and helped him to his hooves. "Name's Swift Round kid," I said, "And now you can probably tell why."

"Yeah," he said with a chuckle, "You pack quite the punch in those legs of yours."

"It's okay guys!" I shouted over the hill, "It's safe!"

Comedy and Alph poked their heads up. They noticed the dead raiders and came over. Comedy didn't even bother saying hello before she began to loot the raiders. Alph on the other head ran straight up to Circuitry.

"Hello!" she said jumping up and down, "New friend!"

She morphed into him and began to imitate him. Circuitry just stared at her.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Well ex-cuse a-me!" said Alph, "I am not an it. I am a lady! And if you like your teeth, you'll remember that."

"Alph, he means what species are you," Comedy spoke up.

"Oh," said Alph, "In that case, I am a Changeling! An Alpha."

Circuitry looked no less confused. I helped Comedy loot the raiders, finding nothing of interest. Then I found the fission battery.

"Oh hello beautiful!" I said.

"Yes dear?" asked Comedy innocently, "I believe you said my name?"

I chuckled and put in the fission battery. It was fully charged. I switched on my eye, feeling relief. Now I could scan whatever the hell Circuitry was wearing. I turned around and examined his suit. I read the diagnostics and breakdown of what it was. My jaw dropped.

"Hey Circuitry," I said walking up to him, "Where did you get that suit?"

"Oh," he said, "The exo? I found it in an old research building. It's just a prototype, but it works pretty good."

"How long have you had it?" I asked, backing away from him.

"A few weeks, why?" he asked.

"Take it off," I said, "Take it off right now."

"What, why?" he asked incredulously.

"Trust me, get it off," I said, "That suit is a walking time bomb right now."

"WHAT!?" he shouted. He rounded on me. "What do you mean it's a time bomb!?"

"Just take it off and I'll show you," I said. He quickly unlatched himself from the exo suit. I walked up and carefully pressed a button. The suit's center piece slowly slid open. Inside was a swirling ball of fire as bright as the sun.

"What...is...that?" he asked, completely dumbfounded.

"The suit's power source," I said, "It's the soul equivalent of a Balefire bomb exploding, except harnessed as a power source. This thing went volatile as soon as you put it on. It's a wonder you didn't wipe yourself off the map."

I began to tinker with it. I was sweating profusely from the heat and nerve. I managed to take out the power source. It didn't burn as brightly now. I gently laid it on the ground and began to take scrap metal from the raiders. Alph, Comedy, and Circuitry stood absolutely still. I used the scrap metal, as well as my tools to fix it so that the suit could handle the power source. It had degraded very quickly. Another day or two, and the thing would have sent two square miles up in smoke.

I put the power source back in. The center piece closed and the suit glowed brightly. I looked it up and down with the diagnostics from my eyepiece telling me that the suit was no longer volatile.

"Okay," I said, "It should be safe now."

Circuitry cautiously got back inside. He flexed the suit and launched himself into the air. He hovered for a second before gently floating back down.

"Say," I said, a thought entering my mind, "How about you come with us? We could use another good fighter."

"I don't see why not," he replied, "You saved my life. I guess I should return the favor."

I nodded. Night was falling. I moved the bodies of the raiders into a ditch over the hill. I started a fire, rolled out my sleep mat and laid down. Comedy was cooking something, but I wasn't really hungry. Eventually, I nodded off and went to sleep.