Chapter 1 - System Restart
[WARNING: FOREIGN SUBSTANCE DETECTED]
[NEURAL TRANSMITTERS ACTIVE]
[AUTOMATIC FULL SYSTEM RESTART ENGAGED]
[RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC...WARNING. 60% OF ALL SYSTEMS ARE OFFLINE. VERIFYING NECESSITIES...]
[ALL VITAL SYSTEMS ONLINE]
[SUBJECT STATUS: ONLINE]
My eyes blinked open, and I found myself staring at a ceiling. Well, whatever I could make out of the ceiling, because it was pitch black in there. Somehow, though, I could see. It took me a minute, but I realized it was because my eyes were glowing yellow, and casting a bit of light. Just enough to see. That, however, presented another question: Why were my eyes glowing...?
And where the hell was I?!
I shot up from my lying position and looked around. Or, what I could to do so; It was still pitch black in there. I could only make out a few wooden boxes lying next to me. Man, if only I could see a little better...
As if on cue, my eyes each cast more light than a lantern. I'm still not sure how I could see, given the fact that there were spotlights blaring directly from my irises. But, whatever. At that point in time, it was the least of my worries. Now that I got a proper look at the "room", it became apparent that this was less of an actual room and more of a broom closet with a large, steel door blocking the way out. There were large wooden boxes, most of which with fungus growing off of them, stacked on top of each other, with myself barely fitting in.
The contents of the boxes were leaking out from all of the rot, but all it was was a bunch of scrap metal and...a tiny statuette of Applejack, founder of the Ministry of Wartime Technology, several-time rodeo winner, sibling to--I had consciously to stop myself. How did I know all of this? I didn't even know anything about myself.
Wait a second...
Holy shit, I didn't know anything about myself!
I started to panic. I had to remember something, anything! Favorite color? Favorite book? My name?! I thought hard. I thought harder than I'd probably ever thought before. But, nope. And yet, I could accurately name the fungus growing on the wood and several facts about it. Come on, really?!
As soon as I was done panicking, I became very, very frustrated. So, what does one do when they're frustrated? Why, punch a door of course! So, I punched the door. Totally normal behavior. In fact, the only thing that wasn't normal was that the door flew off its hinges, hit the opposite wall, and clattered to the floor. I sat there and stared at it for a moment. I mean, the little statuette said "Be Strong!" on it, but damn. I picked up the tiny cowgirl statue and held it in my mouth. Where else was I gonna put it?
I stepped cautiously out of the closet, using my eye-lights to see. The place seemed to had at one point been a laboratory of some sort. There were tables full of tools and unfinished trinkets, as if somepony was forced to leave them in a hurry. Also notable was the fact there were actual vines growing up out of the place, breaching the walls and floor, some of which being at least a few feet in diameter and covered with spikes. These vines, of course, were called plunderweed, and are native to a remote region of Equestria called--
Okay, I had to stop doing that. On my way through the building, I found several more metal doors, all of which I could somehow break down by hitting it. I found out that full-on bucking it with both back-legs could send it into the opposite wall with so much force that it stuck there. As cool as that was, all I found was lots and lots of scrap metal, and a few other things here and there. And then, I hit the jackpot.
Behind a door, I found the remnants of uniforms and scientific equipment. Without hesitating, I put on some scientific barding (which, by the way, probably offered no defense to whatever was out there. I just thought it looked cool.) and a pair of saddlebags. I carefully put the small statuette into it.
Now, perhaps I'd hit the metaphorical jackpot, but that didn't change the fact that I was frustrated as hell. Why couldn't I remember anything except utterly useless facts? How did I get here in the first place? I felt like screaming again. And, I probably would have, if not for the fact I was interrupted by a smooth, robotic-sounding voice in my ear on my way out of the room.
[Systems 50 through 120 successfully rebooted. Learning Entity Operated Neurally and Radiation Drive is now online].
The voice scared the shit out of me. I yelled something unintelligible and impulsively bucked whatever was behind me. Which was thin air, so naturally my incredibly agile self fell to the floor. I scrambled back up and looked around. Nothing. "W-who's there?"
[Unknown; Eyes-Forward Sparkle and facial recognition systems are currently damaged and offline.] There it was again! I whirled around to face whoever's voice that was. Again, nothing. "Come out! I-I'm warning you!" I spent the next five minutes or so looking like a complete dumbass, spinning around to try and find someone who wasn't there, knocking boxes over, tripping and falling several times. Every time I tried to communicate with the unknown entity, I'd get an answer that didn't help whatsoever; either stating something blatantly obvious or saying something about systems. Eventually, I stopped crashing into things, and tool a deep breath.
"Alright," I breathed. "Who is the voice telling me about systems?" Almost instantly, I received an "answer".[Heads Up Display is currently damaged and offline. Files cannot be displayed at this time. To resolve this issue, all files will be played audibly. Accessing file on "Learning Entity Operated Neurally and Radiation Drive"...]
"What? No, I don't understand what you--"
Instead of the robotic voice, I received one that sounded oddly...familiar. "The Learning Entity Operated Neurally and Radiation Drive, or LEONaRD, is your personal auditory assistant to the Heads Up Display. If you are doing something particularly strenuous and cannot read at the moment, this voice or brainwave-activated auditory interface will help you out! Need a companion to talk to? Go find some friends, loser!"
The recording shut off. All I got out of it was that this "LEONaRD" was a voice in my head I could ask questions. And it's..."Operated Neurally"? What does that even mean..?
[Neural Operation refers to controlling a system or object via the use of brainwaves.] ...Great. Now there was a creepy robot spying on my thoughts. And that voice from the other file...it sounded so oddly familiar. I just couldn't place my hoof on it. But, it didn't really matter. There's a fucking robot in my head. Now have even MORE questions. But, wait...isn't that the voice's job..? "Hmm...Hey, LEONaRD. Who am I?" I asked out loud.
[I'm sorry, but the file you requested is deleted or missing.] Damn it. Well, worth a shot. It didn't seem like this voice was leaving, so I concluded it was best not to try and do anything about it. I sighed and got up off the box I was sitting. The MOMENT I left the room, that stupid voice played again in my ear:
[Location confirmed as Ministry of Wartime Technology, Canterlot, Equestria. Map available.]
"Would you shut--wait, a map? There's a map?"
[Accessing map of Ministry of Technology, Canterlot, Equestria...HUD is damaged and offline; map cannot be displayed. Would you like to activate acoustic waypointing?] Ooh, ooh! I knew what that meant somehow! "Yes! Waypoint an exit!"
A low beeping began playing in my ear. I turned towards one of the hallways branching off, and the beeping got a bit higher and faster. I went down that hallway, and repeated the process whenever I came across another intersection. With this new function, it didn't take long to find the lobby, a pair of double doors marked "EXIT" just behind it. The beeping was so high and fast at this point it was starting to hurt my head, so I turned it off with my thoughts. Man, that's cool.
I began towards the lobby, and stopped in my tracks. There, in the middle of the floor, was a dead pony. A long dead pony. It was a mare; her body already halfway through decomposing. She was wearing the remnants of a radiation suit, and it smelled absolutely disgusting. I couldn't tell what had killed her. Her flesh, or what was left of it, was warped and badly lacerated in multiple places. That poor pony...
Looking again, I noticed she had a few things on her. I mean, it's not like she would need them anymore. I opened up her saddlebag and found a canteen, now devoid of water. If I found some, it would come in handy. Immediately after slipping it into my saddlebag, I heard LEONaRD's voice:
[Empty Canteen added to inventory.]
Please tell me it isn't going to do this every time I add something to my saddlebags...
Unfortunately, my prayers were unmet. Every time I added an item to my inventory, LEONaRD restated exactly what it was. I mean, sure, I could see the practicality in that. But it was annoying as hell. But, I digress once again. After rooting through the victim's belongings, I found a few things. An extra gas mask, some packaged food, a lighter, and...a pistol. When I added it to my inventory, LEONaRD said: [Beretta 92FS added to inventory. Remaining ammunition: 9 out of 15 10mm bullets.]
Well, that would have been useful if I wasn't an earth pony. I mean, sure, I could hold it in my mouth. But why bother? By the time I figured out how to pull the trigger I'd already be dead. Wait...who am I expecting to shoot? The thought hit me so hard I almost stumbled. This entire time, I'd been so unnecessarily uneasy. Like I was about to get into a fight. Why did I just...know I was going to fight somepony? It's like it was buried in my subconscious: Kill or be killed, because everypony you meet is a psychopath.
As disturbing as this thought was, I brushed it aside. I mean, surely there was no cause for any undue alarm? I mean, it's not like I could remember anything. There was no reason to be this cautious, right?
I looked back down at the mutilated carcass and decided to take the gun, just in case.
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Canterlot was, in a word, a complete dump. It didn't even look like anything was toppled over or blown up, just...empty. It was almost as if the megaspells dropped on Canterlot were somehow different than the other, horribly destructive ones that turned Equestria into the virtually uninhabitable wasteland it was. Those Zebras may have been complete genocidal bastards, but they sure as hell knew how to make magic weapons.
And furthermore, what was this pink stuff? It seemed like there was always a constant, diluted presence of it hanging around in midair, but in some places...there were just thick, suffocating clouds of pink fog. The most puzzling part was that it didn't seem to DO anything. I assumed this was something called "Pink Cloud" (again, totally necessary knowledge I didn't know I possessed), and from what I could remember, it was supposed to be deadly. But, no. I walked through several thick clouds of it and didn't even cough.
Who knew? Maybe it had an expiration date. Nevertheless, I still felt uneasy. Why did everything have to be so damn quiet? The only sounds that were present were the occasionally breeze of wind or creak of a slightly-opened door. Oh, and the demonic moaning of that zombie-looking creature from Tartarus.
What. In the actual fuck. Is that.
A shambling corpse limped towards me. Its flesh was deteriorating and its mouth was hanging open, producing the most unholy sounds I'd probably ever heard. That wasn't even the most unsettling part; that award, by far, goes to the fact that its eyes were glowing with pink fire and a constant stream of thick pink smoke billowed out from its gaping maw.
In response to my question, LEONaRD piped in:
[Subject cannot be identified; insufficient information in memory banks. Seek a terminal to update memory banks.]
That helps... I reached back into my saddlebag and took out the gun. Thank goodness I could actually get a chance to learn how to fire this thing; that creature walked at the speed of a slightly-faster-than-average tortoise. Did I mention I'm really good at using metaphors?
Anyway, I put the gun in my mouth. And, there was no way to aim with this thing; the only angle I could hold it at made the sights totally useless. How was I even supposed to fire this thing, my tongue? There's gotta be a better way to do this...
[Confirmed. Short Range Telekinetic Grappling system is fully functional and online. Engaging SRTG...] The gun inexplicably floated out of my mouth and hovered there in front of me. Confused, I poked it, shifting it slightly to the left. After a bit of "experimentation" I drew the conclusion that if it's got anything to do with LEONaRD, I should be able to control it with my mind, right? Hmm...go right?
Sure enough, the pistol shifted to the right. Okay, that is really cool.
Oh, right, the horrible zombie-thing. I aimed down sights and fired off a shot--missing completely. Obviously, I was a little rusty. Or, more likely, I was never good in the first place. It took me another two shots to actually hit it. The shot went right through its skull, to which it toppled over, pretty much disintegrated into dust, and released a huge cloud of pink mist which proceeded to condense around me and do absolutely nothing.
As cool as the SRTG was, I was wasting ammunition; I needed to find something I could smack stuff with. Luckily, there was no shortage of stuff to loot. I trotted over to one of the houses. It seemed to be made out of weathered cobblestone, and looked castle-like in appearance. Any component that had been made of wood had rotted away completely. I walked through the doorway (the door itself was long gone), and the smell of rotting flesh hit me like a slap to the face. There were corpses, everywhere. I felt like gagging, the smell was so bad. I held my nose and picked my way though a group of them, and noticed they all had two things in common. They looked fresh, but looked like someone dumped acid all over them. That, and they all had expressions on their face as if they were being burned alive; their eyes rolled back in their head, their mouths hanging open in a permanent, agonizing scream.
On the bright side, they all had backpacks full of supplies. One of them even had a crowbar. A big one. I mean, the thing was probably as large as they come. Perfect for smacking zombies around. The problem was...call me a wimp, but I didn't want to get near those bodies. They were disgusting, smelly, and above all...unsettling. It didn't feel right, and overall made me nauseous. Not to mention the fact that all of their bags were soaking with blood.
I made the decision that there was no way in Tartarus I would touch those backpacks, but...I needed that crowbar. I stood there staring at it for a good five minutes, until a lightbulb went off in my head. I engaged my SRTG, and sure enough, the crowbar unhooked itself from her backpack, and floated back over to me. I snatched it out of the air, feeling ever-so-proud of myself, and strapped it onto the back of my cool science-y barding for easy access. I then proceeded to get the hell out of there. Yes, I should've looted the rest of their bags, but...I just didn't have the stomach.
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After trekking through the deserted streets of Canterlot for another few hours, I learned a few things. For one thing, apparently, crowbars are VERY good for smacking demon ponies around. For another, Canterlot was HUGE. Weird, it seemed much smaller in the image I had floating around in my memory...which brings me to the third thing I learned. About three and a half hours in, I decided it wise to take a break and rest, when I realized that I wasn't tired. Or thirsty or hungry for that matter. I'd been walking around, non-stop, smacking zombies around, without a break for food or water or just plain rest. And I felt fine. No, I felt better than fine. I felt great. That probably wasn't normal, right? I'm not exactly an expert on the subject.
Finally, after six full, tireless hours of walking and smacking, I reached a dirt road that took me out of Canterlot and alongside some train tracks. After yet another two hours, I saw something amazing: More ponies! Finally! The dirt road had taken me down the mountain and through a few fields and forests. Now, I stood at what seemed to be an intersection, where the dirt road crossed the train tracks. Standing in front of the intersection were two male earth ponies leaning on assault rifles. I could also make out a few more ponies around this part of the track. At the intersection, a few makeshift wooden booths had been made, and around the general area of the intersection, there were tents scattered around on either side.
On a normal day, I wouldn't have even considered trying to get through, much less walk up and talk it out. But alas, my head was scrambled, I was extremely confused, and I was just grateful to see an actual pony who wasn't dead. So, like a dolt, I trotted right up to the guards. "Uhm, hello?" This was met by two rather welcoming assault rifles pointed at my face. One of them spoke, but I didn't register it because of how horrible they both looked. Not only were they both malnourished, but the one on the left was covered in scars (some of which were open and a sickening red color). He had a greasy mane, matted fur, and ripped-up barding. His cutie mark was an alarm clock.
The one on the right somehow looked even worse. He was noticeably younger than the left one, and was malnourished to the point of his ribs showing. Like "Alarm Clock", his fur was matted; except in his case, it was matted to a point of being one solid mass, and half-red with clumps hanging off as if he was mauled. I was unsure at first glance, but up close I could see that he had a cutie mark depicting a potted plant.
"Hey!" the left one barked in my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. He had an intense look in his eyes, as if he was looking for an excuse to shoot me right then and there. "I'll tell you only one more time! The price for passing into Ponyville is 50 bottle caps!" Wait, really? No. That's gotta be slang for something. "Bottle caps?" I asked. "Like, as in, literal bottle caps from...bottles?"
"What are you, some kind of retard?" Well, to be fair, I didn't really know that. "Ummm....no?" I answered. "Just a bit new around here." They exchanged glances. The right guard, who spoke in a diminutive and broken-sounding voice alike to his appearance, cocked his gun. "Either give us the caps or we'll cap YOU," he threatened. "I mean it."
Well, I definitely didn't have any bottle caps. I backed up slowly. "I'll just...leave now." I turned around and trotted up the road until I'd broke their line of sight. I weighed my options: It was either wander aimlessly for another few hours or sneak by. And, I wasn't sure about the latter. I mean, I'd just woken up, I was still disoriented, and I had no idea how many other hidden functions LEONaRD had available. Think one wrong thing, and I might activate something that gave my position away...
But, in the end, I decided to try a different route. There was no point in getting myself caught, and the chances were too great that I'd get caught. Surely, there was another way through to Ponyville. ...Right? [Confirmed. Calculating alternate route through Everfree Forest...]
After listening to the audio file on the "Everfree Forest", I decided it would be safer to sneak through. At least, less painful. I headed back down the path, sticking to the bushes and foliage along the side. Those two guards were still there, but it looked as if something had happened in the 20 or so minutes I had gone. On the other side of the track, I could see a group of 3 griffon guards (one male, two females), ganging up on what looked like someone trying to pass from the other side.
They looked like they were in a heated argument. Maybe that's my diversion...I'll let this play out for a few minutes. But when I looked closer, I realized with a start that the pony coming from the other side was a filly at best. She had a jacket, snow pants (?), her head and face was wrapped in a scarf. She wasn't arguing anymore; the three guards were yelling at her and pointing weapons. She slowly backed off a few meters, and started crying in the middle of the path.
From this distance, I couldn't tell what they were yelling at her for. However, one thing they said stuck out to me in particular during a short silence. While the filly just wept on the trail, I heard the middle griffon (a large male with a rifle and sword strapped to his back) say something in Griffish, or whatever native language griffons speak. Is it Griffish? I'm calling it Griffish. It doesn't matter what language it was, because as it was being said, LEONaRD translated it into my ear. [Translation availible]:"Just fucking shoot her. We don't have time for this."
What?! I don't know what I was thinking when a moment later I ran along the side of the elevation I was hiding on. I didn't exactly think out what would happen next, when I jumped down said elevation and landed between the filly and the guards. I mean, what did I think would happen? It was a blur; one moment I was watching it happen, I realized I couldn't let that happen, and next minute I was the only thing standing between her and a hail of gunfire.
What happened next is exactly what you'd expect. After a brief moment of confusion, I squeezed my eyes shut as the other two griffons each unloaded an entire SMG clip right into my chest.
[WARNING: Hostile activity detected. Shots taken; armor integrity holding.]
And then, nothing. No pain, no sound...was I dead? I cautiously opened one eye. What I saw made them fly open.
I was still in the same place. All three griffons, along with everyone else in the camp who came to investigate the gunfire, were looking at me with their jaws hanging open. I looked down; only a few shots had even penetrated my fur, and they didn't hurt at all. The ground around my forehooves was littered with the remains bullets that had just bounced right off or shattered.
I didn't know what the hell was going on, so I just went with it. There was a filly hiding behind me and I was apparently immune to guns, I couldn't let her down. I put on my best intimidation face. Apparently LEONaRD realized I was trying to be scary-looking. My eyes started glowing red as appose to yellow.
Just then something hit me. Somehow, I knew what to say. One word, three letters. A word that has so much power when said at the right time. I'd said it before, I could feel it. It was time for a reprise. I spoke in a metallic, tripled and much deeper voice: "Run."
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"In here! In here!" The filly pulled me by a hoof into her 'home', which was more or less the decaying remains of an old house, near the outskirts of Ponyville. Inside was...interesting to say the least. First of all, there was junk everywhere. Old tables, lamps, and decorations, all put together to form a living area.
The filly, whose name was Light Breeze, skipped into the room and began to hastily re-adjust cracked wall portraits and put up vases with dead flowers, as if to make a good first impression on her visitor. It wasn't necessary, because this was probably the most well-intact structure I'd seen so far. One thing that really put me off was the fact that there were actual, new-looking lightbulbs screwed into sockets (although none of them were actually on).
Near as I could tell, there wasn't any power anywhere else in the ruins. "Nice place," I commented. "But...these lightbulbs are new. Do you have power?" Breeze turned around, pulling up her headscarf a bit. "Yep! I mean, nope. I mean, I did until this morning, when my power just stopped working...I bet it's the spark plug."
I cocked my head. "Um...I don't think spark plugs are used in anything but vehicles--" Breeze cut me off by making a raspberry noise. "Yeah, huh! And now that the stupid spark plug is broken, I need a grown-up to fix it...that's why I went to those mean ponies by the train tracks! They wouldn't help me. But I know you will! Right?" She gave me those Luna-damned puppy eyes.
I sighed. "Fine. What do you want--"
She cut me off by tackling my neck with a hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou! It's down here!" Before I could even react, Breeze darted down a flight of stairs into her basement so quickly that her scarf flew right off her face. I picked it up and went down after her. "Hey, you dropped your scarf up...there."
She was looking at me with an expression I can only describe as shame. Her face was half-decayed, like those zombies I'd seen earlier. Unlike them, however, her eyes weren't glowing pink. They just...shined with life. Right now, they also shined with tears.
"I...I'm so sorry!" she cried. "I didn't m-mean to!" Goddesses, she was a mess. In seconds, Breeze had turned from happy, bouncing filly to a wailing child. I think this had to be the scariest thing I'd seen since leaving the Ministry of Wartime Technology. Not because she was scary, but because I legitimately didn't know what to do about it. Every other situation so far had some sort of immediate solution, but this...
"What are you sorry for, Breeze?" I asked as gently as possible. Between sniffles, she answered, "B-because, I'm ugly, and I didn't want you to have to see it..." Okay, before I go any further, let me go on the record and say that compared to some of the other zombie ponies I'd seen, she was actually not bad-looking. I could tell that in life, she'd been a very pretty-looking filly.
"You're not ugly," I assured her. "I promise, anypony who says otherwise is a doofus." Doofus? Did I really just say that? As silly as the insult may have been, it seemed to cheer her up a bit.
"Really?" she sniffed. I nodded in affirmation. "Really."
I'm not sure what it was with this pony, but she immediately snapped back to her bouncy old self. "Yay! I'm not ugly!" she bounded farther into the basement, forcing me to trot after her. I found her at the very back, jumping in place on top of a small, portable generator. "Fix it!" She squeaked. "Fix it fix it fix it fix it fix it fix it fix--"
I had to put my hoof on her mouth so she'd stop talking. "Alright! Geez." I couldn't help but laugh a bit. "It'd help if you got off the generator, c'mon." I knelt by the generator and shooed her away, only for her to hop up onto my back and watch intently over my shoulder. After inspecting for a few seconds, I heard LEONaRD in my head.
[Analysis complete. Type II portable generator by Stable-Tec, electricity powered. Energy level: 0%.] "Well, there's your problem."
"What?" Breeze piped in my ear. "Is it the spark plug?"
"No, it's not the spark plug." I'd given up on telling her that spark plugs are used only in vehicles. "Your generator ran out of power. Which is odd, because these things are supposed to supply power for almost 200 yea--oh. Well, never mind. Unfortunately, without an external power supply to juice it up, I really can't do much."
[External power supply available. Would you like to siphon electrical energy into machine "Stable-Tec 'Foreverator?'"] I didn't know what else to do but accept. Also, "foreverator?" Evidently, this "Stable-Tec" enjoyed cheesy nicknames for consumer products.
When I accepted, I felt a weird sensation in my right hoof. Lifting it up, I was startled to find a wire with an odd adaptor at the end hanging from the middle of my hoof.
What was even more disturbing was that I could move it around, like part of my body. I wiggled it in midair as a bit of a test. Breeze giggled in my ear. "Hee-hee! Is that a spark plug?" What was it with this filly and spark plugs?
I noticed that on the generator, there was a port that seemed to match the end of the wire. I cautiously plugged it in, and instantly fainted.
[Energy transfer complete. Rebooting all functional systems.]
My eyes flew open and I shot straight up, gasping. Breeze a bewildered look on her face, which didn't even last ten seconds. She burst out laughing, rolling around on the floor. I stood up, rubbing my forehead. "What...what happened?"
Between giggles, Breeze snickered something about my mane. Upon inspection, I found that it was sticking straight up. Well, I didn't look like a complete idiot at all.
As soon as I got my hair situation sorted out, I turned back to Breeze. "How long was I out?" I asked, still brushing down static-y hairs. She finally calmed down, wiping tears from her eyes. "Only a few minutes. Tossed me right off your back!" I muttered an apology and walked over to the generator. Sure enough: fully charged. I activated it with the big red button on the console, and all of the lights and ventilation systems came back on. Needless to say, it was a welcome sight after trekking through the wasteland for hours on end.
To say Breeze was happy would be an enormous understatement. She cheered and bounced all over the place like a foal on Hearth's Warming Day. "Wheeee! You fixed it! You fixed the meanie spark plug! Yaaaay!" This continued for a few minutes, and I couldn't help but smile. It felt good to do something for somepony, especially without the expectation of reward. It made me feel proud of myself. Perhaps my first interaction with other ponies wasn't exactly the most friendly, but I felt as though I'd redeemed myself. Hell, you could get away with murder and feel redeemed if you made this filly as happy as I did. But, of course, I wouldn't have to worry about that. There's no way I'd ever end a pony's life.
"Well, you're welcome." I said. She beamed up at me, still bouncing. "But, unfortunately, I can't stay here. Those bad ponies will come looking for me, and they might find me and hurt you in the process." She stopped bouncing, and looked at the ground sadly. "Awww..." I was about to go over to comfort her, but suddenly she sprang up as if she had a brilliant idea. She scampered upstairs before I could start my sentence.
By the time I'd caught up with her, she was in a room that was down a water-stained hallway, at the very end. Probably her bedroom at one point, as there was a bed shoved in the back-left of the room. It had torn covers and a deteriorated mattress, but I doubted that bothered her. The rest of the room was filled with junk, seemingly just things she'd found laying around. She was picking things out of it and putting them in a small pile by the door. A few bullets, some canned food, bandages, antibiotics, a length of cable, and...holy shit, was that a land mine?
I found myself backing away from the mine. "Where'd you get all this stuff?" I asked uneasily. "I found it!" she answered proudly, throwing her hoof in a sweeping motion across the room. "And there's some stuff in here I thought you might like, so here you go!" She added a large metal hook and a small photograph to the pile.
After LEONaRD verified that the mine was disarmed, I went over to the pile, and floated everything in front of me using the SRTG. Was she really just going to give me this stuff? All I did was plugged something in and fainted. "Wow, really?"
"Uh-huh!" She chirped. "See the photograph? That's me before my face changed! I want you to keep it, so you always have me with you!" Okay, wow, that was really sweet. There I was, NO idea who the hell I am, standing in front of a zombie-filly who suddenly thinks I'm the greatest pony alive. Why did she think so highly of me?
Whatever the case, I put it all into my saddlebags, where it barely fit. To make more room I loaded the three bullets into my pistol, attached the cable to the side of my bag, and tucked the photograph directly into the pocket of my barding. "Thank you...really, thank you." I couldn't really find the right words, but I felt a strange combination of grateful and sad. She'd given me this stuff to help me along my journey, and even something to remember her by. But I was just leaving her here, alone. I briefly considered taking her with me, but that wouldn't do. If there was anypony else like those we saw at the traintracks, I couldn't promise I'd protect her.
And I still felt strangely uneasy...
She beamed and gave me a big hug, which I could only return. After a few seconds, she released me and started doing that bouncing thing again. "Good luck! You'll come and see me again, right?" I turned to her and smiled. "Of course I will." I walked over to the door and waved back to her. "See you around!"
"See ya! Thanks for fixing the spark plug!"
Ugh.
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It was a short walk to Ponyville. Breeze's tiny, run-down brick house just next to it; concealed by foliage near the overgrown forest that flanked the path leading into town.
Upon entering Ponyville, the first thing I noticed was that Breeze's house looked like a five-star hotel by comparison to most houses. Unlike Canterlot, which was made mostly of stone, Ponyville was wood for the most part. Practically all that was left of the place were foundations and piles of rotting wood. A few houses were still barely standing, but not many. A majority of those who stood were made of bricks or stone.
The streets were probably made of dirt at one point, but the poorly-maintainted streets and paths were now dried-up mud, with little sprouts and bits of yellow, sun-deprived grass sticking up here and there. All the while, LEONaRD played an audio file in my ear:
"Ponyville was once the home of the six ministry mares: Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity. They were situated at Sugarcube Corner, a cottage off the Everfree Forest, Golden Oak Library, Sweet Apple Acres, a cloud house towards the edge of town, and Carousel Boutique respectively."
"At the beginning of the war, each mare was designated a Ministry: Ministry of Morale, Ministry of Peace, Ministry of Arcane Sciences, Ministry of Wartime Technology, Ministry of Awesome, and the Ministry of Image respectively."
'Ministry of Wartime Technology?' Wasn't that where I woke up?
The file switched. "The Ministry of Wartime Technology, or Ministry of Technology for short, was at the forefront of battle equipment manufacturing and general technological innovation for a majority of the war. Its founder, Applejack, was known before hand for representing the Element of Harmony 'Honesty'. She was known locally for running the town's most lucrative apple orchard, Sweet Apple Acres."
"The Ministry of Wartime Technology, while not responsible for the creation of any Megaspells, was responsible for many other dangerous projects. Most notably, they created the armor donned by "Steel Rangers", an elite team of fighters in full-body power suits. These suits would not only offer protection, but possessed self-medicinal and life support systems. In addition, they were equipped with a plethora of heavy weapon systems, including grenade launchers and gattling guns. Following Applejack's death, the Steel Rangers all but fell apart."
"The Ministry of Wartime Technology is also responsible for most of the guns and weapons in Equestria. Before the war started, the nation was in posession of very little firepower, most of which being either magical or incredibly primitive. The Ministry of Wartime Technology revolutionized weaponry as it is seen today."
I passed the aforementioned Golden Oak Library; it was a huge treehouse, with balconies and windows sticking out here and there. The leaves were all yellow or gone entirely; Equestria's seemingly-infinite state of overcast hadn't done the foliage any favors. I would have gone in and taken a look, but I could barely make out shapes moving around through the windows. If those were ponies, then I decided that I would leave them be. My last interaction hadn't gone so well.
"The Ministry of Wartime Technology was also involved in several experiments that caused controversy. These experiments included various biological weapons, magical firearms, and secret projects, the details of whom are unknown. Most notably of these projects is 'Project Paradigm'. There was very little known about this project, but what is certain is that several test subjects died in the process."
Sounded like real nice guys... I stopped that thought process and entertained another.
I DID wake up there...does that mean I could be one of them?
Nah, couldn't be. I'd remember something like that, right? Oh, wait. I didn't remember anything. So, no. I didn't really have any proof or way to prove it. We're off to a great start.
The sun was starting to go down. I figured that I wouldn't last five minutes out here at night, and those calculations were generous. I'd been walking for an obscenely long time; I didn't feel exhausted, but I was tired. If that makes any sense. I wanted to go to sleep, but I wasn't winded at all.
I found "Sugar Cube Corner". That's the place where Pinkie Pie lived, right? It didn't matter; it was still standing somehow, and I didn't see anypony through the windows. Good enough for me. I opened the door, making extra-extra sure I closed it behind me.
First thing I noticed? Couldn't see shit.
I activated my eye lights in order to see, and what I found was...pretty much exactly what I expected from a place called "Sugar Cube Corner". Inside, you could tell that it had been a baker's shop of some sort. There was a counter, a large kitchen in close proximity, and the remains of mold-covered pastries that had all but rotted away still in the glass display cabinet. It smelled like an unsettling mix between pleasant and sickeningly awful. I could tell why ponies didn't come here often.
I went behind the counter and explored the kitchen. Unlike the display cabinet, this part of the building had been completely cleaned out. There were empty utensil racks, dusty cupboards, and not a pot or pan to be seen. It wasn't necessarily an inconvenience for me, given the fact that I wasn't specifically looking for kitchen utensils, but I had hoped to find something to boil water in. When I ran out of water from what Breeze had given me, I would need to find my own.
At the back of the kitchen, I found a flight of stairs going upward. They, like the rest of the building, were old and on the verge of collapse. I took a tentative step onto one and was rewarded a loud creak. As lightly as possible, I started climbing. LEONaRD was protesting at me about the integrity of the stairs the entire time as I carefully picked my way up.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I was met with several doors. "All right," I muttered to myself. "Which of these can I sleep in?" LEONaRD answered my question with something totally irrelevant.
[Terminal detected through middle door. Please connect to the terminal to update databanks.]
He didn't have to tell me twice. If his memory updated, maybe I could find out something about myself! I half-sprinted through the middle door, and was met with a rectangular computer interface about the size and dimensions of an arcade machine. It had a large Stable-Tec logo on the side of it and was covered in pink stickers. I mean, they were probably pink, but after about 200 years they had deteriorated quite a bit. They were half-worn off and bleached a much whiter color.
I found a port matching the one on Breeze's generator. Almost subconsciously, I summoned the wire out of my hoof. I hovered it in front of the port and hesitated. If I got knocked out here, and somepony came in, I'd be vulnerable...
I considered bracing the door, but that would have been dumb, given the fact that there wasn't even a door there anymore. After a few minutes, I decided to risk it. If there was a chance I'd find something, anything about myself, I was willing to take it. I plugged myself in. I expected to black out like last time, but that wasn't the case.
The wasteland around me disintegrated until all that was left was myself standing on nothing, in an empty black void, in front of the Terminal. The screen, that used to be dark, blinked to life. A loading meter appeared on-screen, which took about ten seconds to fill. The text above it read: Loading memory 00003...
[***00110000 00110000 00110000***]
The world crashed back into view, but I was somewhere else. The terminal had disappeared, and I seemed to be standing in a very new-looking laboratory. There were ponies dressed in lab coats, construction helmets and safety goggles walking around, some of which carrying files that read TOP SECRET. Some pushed carts full of incredibly-dangerous looking equipment. It took me a moment, but I also realized I had no control over my body. I tried to move, but couldn't. It was an extremely strange and unsettling feeling that gave me the chills.
Somepony tapped me on the shoulder, to which "I" turned around without (a motion beyond my control). A young mare stood before me, dressed in a lab coat, glasses, and name badge identifying her as Thermite. "Sir? We've hit a bump in our research." Just that sentence earned Thermite a glare from "me" so powerful that she shrunk back. "I-I just got off the phone with the Ministry of Peace," she continued cautiously. "They...they say that they won't let us continue with Project Paradigm. Apparently they see it as...well, unnatural and wrong." Whoever I was growled in frustration and bucked a metal chair, hard. It clanged across the tile floor and hit a wall, startling other ponies that were milling about. Silence swept over the entire room, as everypony else stared at whatever maltempered asshole these eyes belonged to.
"I don't care what those flower-picking idiots think!" Whoever I was barked, his obscenely loud (and somewhat familiar...) voice smashing the silence like a hammer. "You're going to continue this project, keep it secret, and double your rate of progress! If not, so help me I will feed all of you fuckwits to the failed subjects!" The young mare, trembling, nodded slowly and ran into another room, tripping over herself. The other ponies in the room were staring at "me" in a mixture of fear and anger.
"Well?! Get back to work! And someone get me those files before the Ministry of Peace come poking around! If we don't--"
[CRITICAL ERROR. CONNECTION TO TERMINAL INTERUPPTED; FORCING SYSTEM RESTART.]
The world seemed to be yanked out from beneath me, filling my vision with a cold darkness.
[***00110000 00110000 00110000 ***]
I woke up with a start. I was detached from the terminal now, but something was clearly wrong. For one thing, I was lying on my face. I scrambled up and looked at my hoof, where the wire was. The end of the cord had been cut, with stray wires sparking from the end of it. I stood up, retracting the frayed cable into my hoof. Inspecting the dusty terminal, I found that other part of the cord was still in the port. Had somepony gotten in?
I turned around to find two combat shotguns pointed directly at my head.
Two of my assailants were unicorns. They were just as poorly groomed as the ponies I'd seen at the train tracks, but both pointing shotguns at me nonetheless. They stood on either side of a huge earth pony. Like, holy shit. I'd probably never seen a stallion this large. He was easily the size of one and a half me's. I noticed that one of the unicorns was still holding a machete in her mouth. That was most likely the cause of my rude awakening. All three were dressed in similar outfits. And by similar, I mean following the same basic theme: Thrown-together and made of junk.
"Don't try to run." The huge one said, in an extremely deep voice. "You belong to us now. Give us your saddlebags and maybe we won't shoot you right here." I considered running. Now, I'd been shot before, and it did, well, nothing. But those were submachine guns firing into my chest at medium range. I had no idea what two combat shotguns at point-blank range would do to my face.
What else would I do? I gave him the saddlebags. He tossed it over his massive back, and pulled a set of shackles out of his own bag. "You're a slave now, colt. If you'd like to tell us your name, now's a good time, because from now on you'll just be a number. One that is easily subtracted."
I opened my mouth, then closed it. What was my name? That part had never really occurred to me. I tried hard to remember, but like every other attempt, it ended in vain. Maybe I could ask LEONaRD...
"Today, rust bucket." Rust bucket? Well, never mind. I guessed I just had to pick something. Even if it was just a pseudonym of sorts.
I took a breath, and put a hoof on my barding pocket. "My name is Spark Plug."
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Footnote: Level Up.
New perk: Armor Plating -- Bullet damage reduced by 15%.
Author's Note
Hope you guys liked the first chapter! 
I'm open to suggestions, but please be respectful!
Thanks to Warmonger, SKpip, Cookiesaurus Rex, and Vigilant Watch for pre-reading!
Chapter 2 - You People All Look the Same
"Git movin'!"
One of the slavers hit me on the back of the head with the butt of her machete, causing me to stumble and nearly trip over my shackles. It really was a poor design choice, those things. All four hooves were attached in one form or another by a steel chain, making it extremely easy to trip over. Not to mention that these were the flimsiest excuses for manacles ever. I went through three sets already by tripping; the metal links of the chain stood no match for the same hooves that had previously bucked down metal security doors.
The other slaves didn't share my opinion. There were five others, trudging slowly along with me in a double-file line. Each side was flanked by two slavers, with an extra one heading up the front. Heading up the back was the huge guy I mentioned earlier. After overhearing some conversation, I found out that his name, I kid you not, was "Well-Read".
Fucking "Well-Read".
The irony of it was that the entire three or so hours we'd been walking along, I hadn't heard him speak in a complete sentence. It was always a single word or phrase, like "Move" or "Shut up". I would've laughed if not for the severity of the situation.
The other five slaves were somehow more malnourished than the ponies on the train tracks. Two mares and three stallions, all skin and bones. Except for me, of course. I still didn't feel the slightest bit tired or hungry. Not to mention that I looked relatively well-fed compared to the rest of my company; I imagined it would raise some eyebrows by the time we got to...wherever we were going. Which was taking an obscenely long time, might I add. It was nightfall at this point, and at several points, I heard the slavers discussing setting up camp. Every time, however, they were instantly vetoed by Well-Read.
Thankfully, the Goddesses were watching over us. Further up the path, we discovered that a recent rock slide blocked us from proceeding. Huge red boulders blocked our path, spread out in a way that there was no hope of walking around without everypony dropping dead from exhaustion. Well-Read growled angrily. "How the hell did this get here? This path was clear when we came the first time." The mare who'd hit me replied in faux concern. "Oh, well," she sighed. "I guess this means we'll have to set up camp after all."
Well-Read gave her a glare that should've made every molecule in her body combust, which certainly made her shut up. "Fine!" He spat. "Set up the tents in the shady area over there." He snapped his gaze over to another slaver, which actually made him jump. "And you! Go find something we can burn. If we're setting up camp, we'll have to make a fire." The other slavers nodded quickly and scrambled off to get everything done. Meanwhile, Well-Read shoved the slaves and I into the middle of the area where the tents were being set up.
We sat in the middle of that area for a good half hour before everything was set up. Towards the five-minute mark, the slave that was shackled next to me whispered: "You don't seem like you've been out here too long."
I blinked. "What do you mean, 'out here'?"
"The wasteland, stupid. Fresh out of a Stable? I don't see no PipBuck on you." None of these words meant anything to me. LEONaRD?
[Stables are large underground bunkers built at the end of the War to shield any surviving ponies from the Megaspells. While most of the Stables have long been opened, a select few still remain, oblivious to life on the surface.]
Must be nice...
The file switched. [PipBucks are hoof-mounted devices commonly used by Stable-Dwellers. They are small, multi-purpose terminals that attach like a gauntlet to the right or left forehoof, covering only the ankle. It functions as a map, database, inventory sorter, vital scanner, and more. In the wasteland, they are rare, and of very high value.]
Oh! Looks like LEONaRD did successfully update before the connection was severed!
"Umm, hello? Still with us?" I shook my head and found the pony I'd been talking to giving me a weird look. "You kinda zoned out there."
"Oh, sorry. Umm, yeah, I'm new." Eager to change the subject, I asked: "So, umm, what's your name?" The stallion still wasn't so sure I was completely normal, but decided to forget it. Hopefully. "Blowtorch," he answered. "how about you?" I didn't really have anything else to call myself right now, so I just told him the same thing I'd said to the slavers. "Uh, Spark Plug. Where...where are these ponies taking us, exactly?"
Blowtorch sighed loudly, earning a hostile look from Well-Read. He swallowed and continued in a low voice, "Well, you must be very new. These ponies are slavers. In all likelihood, we'll be taken to a smaller holding camp, and from there to a place where we'll be put to work."
I answered in an equally quiet voice, "I assumed they were slavers of some sort. Why do we need to go to a holding camp first?" Blowtorch shrugged, glancing off in the direction from which we came. "It's incredibly far away. The slavers who captured us don't have the supplies at hand to go straight there. Once we hit the holding camp, we'll probably stay a night or two. Afterwards, we'll all be packed into a few wagons and towed off to the mining site."
Mining? "What are they digging for?" I paused. "And how do you know so much about this?" Blowtorch rubbed his eyes and muttered, "Ask too many questions and I'll strangle you with your own chains." What a nice guy.
To be honest, I wasn't that worried about getting sent into slavery for some reason. I'd handled every other situation so far; perhaps LEONaRD had a way out of this one, too. A really shitty excuse for not being worried about that, I know, but I couldn't really put my hoof on the reason I wasn't worried. Not to mention I seemed to automatically know that these were slavers. Perhaps it had something to do with whatever I got from the Terminal?
At the end of that thirty minutes, Well-Read stepped upon a small boulder, as if he could tower over everypony else even more. "Listen up, because I'll say this a single time. At 6:00 sharp tomorrow morning, we're burning this camp, going all the way around these damned rocks, and continuing to the holding camp. We will get there before sunset tomorrow. Stragglers will be shot, am I clear?"
The entire camp nodded incredibly quickly. With that, Well-Read disappeared into his tent. The slavers followed suit, leaving the other slaves and I sitting in the middle of the circle of tents, illuminated only by the campfire, and held in place by several clamps that attached into the ground. If I wasn't so sleepy, I probably could've ripped those right out of the ground. But at this point, I was so tired that even LEONaRD was telling me to get my sleep.
[Sleep deprivation could have serious adverse side effects on your body, including but not limited to...]
Thanks, bud. I'll get some shut-eye. Just...shut up.
He finally stopped talking. So, I closed my eyes completely, for the first time since I emerged from the Ministry of Wartime Technology. LEONaRD's pleasant voice sounded in my ear one more time:
Sleep mode activated. Initiating Dream Program...
[***00110000 00110000 00110101***]
Just like last time, the world rushed into existance, and I found myself in another stallion's body. The same one. Somehow, I could tell.
Different place...or, maybe just a different room. I couldn't tell. The pony whom I was looking through the eyes of was sitting at a desk. A messy one, at that. It was covered in papers, unorganized folders, books, and more. All the while, "I" was mumbling to myself about...something. I honestly couldn't tell, because while I WAS looking through his eyes, I couldn't consistantly read his thoughts. Whatever he was saying was completely unintelligable.
There was a knock at the door. "Come in." I growled.
The scientist from the original dream, Thermite I thought, walked into the room shakily. "I take it #45 didn't make it." I sighed. Thermite nodded slowly. Her breath was erratic and she looked very shaken up. My view panned down to the blood covering the front of her lab coat. "How'd he go?"
"One of our instruments p-pierced his throat due to a m-miscalculation." Thermite stammered. I stood up suddenly, startling her. "And who exactly made such a miscalculation?!" I demanded. Thermite opened her mouth, then closed it and stared at the floor for several seconds.
"Well?!"
"I-it was Owl Wing, sir." She choked out the name as if she had just killed him herself. Unfortunately, it seemed like "I" had that covered.
"Well," I said angrily, "looks like we've found our #46. Maybe this time he'll be able to do something right. Convert him and report your results." Thermite blinked back a few tears, nodded, and sulked out of the room. I sat back in my chair. "Fuckin' idiots can't do anything right..."
[***00110000 00110000 00110101***]
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The hours proceeding our wake-up call (which, by the way, consisted of Well-Read standing in the clearing and firing an automatic shotgun into the air) consisted of pretty much exactly what we'd been told. We walked parallel to the rock slide until we found a path through that Well-Read perceived as safest, and walked through there. And I have to say, whatever caused the rock slide was no natural event.
What remained of a large cliff overlooking the path had been completely obliterated, turned into rubble. And deliberately. LEONaRD was jabbering at me about how the patterns on the boulders indicated a controlled demolition.
And for some reason, the thing that bothered me the most about this was the fact that LEONaRD wouldn't. Stop. Talking! On and on he yammered about sediments, blast patterns, the personal information of the various slavers (?), detecting more ponies, and....wait, detecting more ponies?
[Warning: Several armed life signals detected. Preparing to determine alignment...]
He never got the chance. Out of the blue, the slaver directly to my right got her head blown off. The other slavers cocked their weapons, and Well-Read yelled, "Raiders!"
What followed was total chaos. At least seven ponies emerged from the rocks, all firing guns. For minutes, every other sound was drowned out by gunfire and shouting. The slaves and I hit the floor, hoping to the goddesses we weren't hit by a stray bullet. Surprisingly, it didn't look like they were even aiming at us. Eventually, I dared to open up an eye.
Our assailants were losing. Badly. Already, four of the seven had been shot and killed. All that remained was the sniper that started the fight, a badly-injured unicorn, and the pony standing over him.
Wait...that wasn't a pony.
The creature standing over the wounded raider had a narrower snout than a pony. It also thinner legs, thinner...everything, really. Instead of regular nostrils, it had a wet, black nose, and cloven hooves. Instead of a tail, it had a small puff of fur, and upon its head were two relatively small, backwards-facing antlers.
A deer.
Judging by the antlers, it had to be a male. Odd, the picture of deer floating around in my memory had much less puffy fur, unlike the thick coat of this one. Not to mention he seemed awfully small for a buck. He also didn't seem like much of a fighter, and more like a medic, trying to heal his fallen comrade using a foggy, sparkly magic that floated around his antlers. Eventually, the pony in his hooves bled out and the sniper, ironically, got his head blown off. The end product of the fight was two dead slavers and six dead raiders, with a leftover deer.
Well-Read held his hoof up as a signal to cease fire. "Deer!" he called. "You're outmanned and outgunned! Come down peacefully and surrender, lest we blow your head off and sell the ivory!" "Lest". Add that to the non-existant list of words that could possibly identify him as being "Well-Read".
To my surprise, a high, clearly female voice called back: "I'd rather die than submit to you!" There was a moment of silent puzzlement in response to the antlered female. Well-Read chose to ignore the anomaly, and let off a single shot from his pistol which caught her(?) in the shoulder and sent her tumbling down the rock pile, landing right at Well-Read's hooves.
Now, I could get a close look at her. And yep, definitely a doe. But how? Does don't have antlers! Well-Read seemed to share my curiosity, but shook his head and turned to one of the surviving slavers. "You. Chain her to that one," he barked, pointing at me. She'll need to lean on something that won't become exhausted." Oh, so I'm not the only one who noticed that.
Just as he'd demanded, the newcomer was chained next to me. This created an odd, unequal line. What had previously been three rows of two, was now two rows of two and one row of three, since I had Blowtorch to my right and now this 'doe' to my left.
She struggled to keep her footing, relying heavily on me as a rest for her wounded shoulder, which helped a lot. What definitely didn't help was the fact that we were up and moving again, forcing her to put her entire foreleg around me so she didn't have to put weight on it. While we walked, I muttered to my left. "So...I've never seen a deer with antlers who wasn't a buck."
She shot me an offended look that caught me off guard. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
Her voice was high and squeaky, but somehow still controlled. Which, by the way, sounded ridiculous. She replied to my apparently insensitive comment with a sharp retort: "I'm an elk, thank you very much."
"Huh?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm an elk. Not a deer. All elk have antlers, even the girls. Just...smaller ones."
LEONaRD felt the need to add to this: [Elk were found up north in the mountains before the War began, heir thick fur adapted to deal with the cold climates. They were peaceful, and unassociated with Equestria. During the War, however, they were conquered by the Zebras for territory, and served as a site from which to bombard Equestria with Megaspells. Two Megaspells were launched from this location, targeting higher areas due to their newly-acclaimed height advantage. After they were conquered, they dispersed. There is no record of their activity afterward.]
"Oh. How...rude of me. Sorry." I replied half-sarcastically. To my surprise, she instantly snapped out of her pouty state to chuckling softly. Due to her high voice, however, it sounded more like a giggle. "It's okay. Most ponies don't even know what an elk is. I'm Jade."
"Spark Plug." I took a glance at the empty space a dead slaver left behind, and continued incredibly awkwardly. "So, umm...you...attacked us." And I thought she'd been taken aback the whole "deer" thing. This time, she responded with defensive, near shout: "We weren't--" she got a glance from Well-Read and lowered her voice. "We weren't attacking you," she hissed. "We were attacking the slavers, trying to free you. It's what we do."
I tilted my head in puzzlement. "What for? What's in it for you?" She seemed to be taken aback by this as well. Was there anything this deer (sorry, elk) wasn't offended by? "Is there something so wrong with doing the right thing?" Jade demanded. And honestly, I didn't know how to respond to that. In the 24 hours or less I'd been out in the wasteland, I already felt changed from...whatever I was before. There was just an unconscious understanding that doing the right thing was redundant in this world. But still...
"I guess not." I replied. And, honestly, I wasn't sure if I agreed with myself.
01001101 01011001 00100000 01000110 01000001 01010101 01001100 01010100
The "sub-camp" everypony had been griping about looked a lot less "sub" than I imagined. Huge stone walls surrounded a large rectangular area with a guard tower at and between every corner, six in total. From the ground, I could see at least two snipers in each tower, and some peering over the edge of the wall, indicating a catwalk running along the top.
Standing before our group were a pair large metal doors, flanked on either side by a guard. These particular guards weren't like anything else I'd seen yet: they wore heavily padded armor and helmets, making me question how they could even breathe. At their sides were two saddle-mounted rods with glowing gems at the end. I didn't want to know what those did.
Well-Read approached the gates and addressed the guard on the right. "Apologies for my lateness. We encountered a group of raiders on the way back, ended up losing Fisheye and Voice Box." This news warranted no reaction from the guards other than a shrug. "On the bright side," Well-Read continued, "We did catch ourselves a deer." He tossed his head back in Jade's direction.
"Elk..." she muttered.
The guard on the right looked at Jade in interest. "Could get a good price out of that one. All right, come on in." He and his friend each pulled a lever. With an ear-destroying metal groan, the doors slowly swung open. "Make it quick, we want to make sure those raiders didn't follow you." Well-Read ushered us in hastily, and the doors slammed behind us with a loud BANG!
Interesting design choice, I found myself thinking. The doors close much faster than they open.
Jade's wound was much better now; a few hours after the attack, she was commanded to heal everypony up. Using an eerie combination of magic mist-stuff and potions that she had been carrying with her, everyone's wounds simply disappeared. Except mine, of course. I didn't have any wounds.
We were taken over to a group of cells towards the back of the complex, comprising of a metal-barred door and stone walls. Inside were nothing but dirty food and water bowls. "All right!" Well-Read barked. "You will each get in a cell with the person next to you." We were all unhooked simultaneously by one of the unicorn slavers.
What else could we do? Jade, Blowtorch and I began to walk to a cell, but Well-Read interrupted us. "You." He pointed at Blowtorch. "Come with me." The stallion cursed under his breath and reluctantly followed the enormous slaver. Jade and I exchanged glances, but were shoved into our cell before we could say anything. With a clang, the cell doors closed.
For the fifteen minutes, Jade and I didn't even speak. She was sitting in a corner, and I was too busy asking LEONaRD anything and everything. To Jade, it looked as if I was pacing around and talking to myself like a mental patient.
"LEONaRD," I muttered under my breath. "Could I break out of this cell like I did the doors in the Ministry?" [Affirmative. The structural integrity of the walls and door would easily fail if met with less force than you are capable of.] Well, that was easy. As I geared up to buck the wall down, LEONaRD continued after a nearly-comedic delay: [Breaking out, however, would not be advised. Hostiles surround this area on all sides, some harboring equipment you are not currently equipped to deal with.]
"Oh. Damn. Okay, umm..."
Out of the blue, Jade's voice piped up, with a completely unrelated question that almost knocked me off my feet. "Are you a robot?"
I spun around, looking at her in shock. "No! What makes you think that??" Jade got up, and shifted her hooves uneasily, as if trying to tell me there's something on my face. "I don't think that's such a good idea..." she began.
"Tell me."
"I don't want to."
"Come on!"
"No!"
"NOW!"
"Okay, fine..." she began slowly. She inhaled deeply, then suddenly let it out in a rapid-fire manner. "You don't really get tired, you're talking to yourself as if there's somebody else there, you're obscenely strong, there are bullet holes in your chest but no blood, I think I can see metal through those holes, and we've been in 90-degree weather for hours and you haven't a bead of sweat." Before I could pick my jaw up off the floor, she pushed the water dish over to me. "And...no offense...have you looked at yourself lately?"
I didn't want to look at that bowl, because I knew exactly what I'd see. But I did anyway. I had to. I peered into the dirty water, getting a glimpse of myself for the first time.
For the most part, everything was normal. Messy dark-blue mane, light-ish brown fur with several bullet holes without even a drop of blood in sight...and then I got to my eyes. I had thought it weird for them to cast light, but now...I couldn't tell if I was looking at eyes or screens. Each of my bright-yellow eyes not only glowed, but had odd wires running through them, and tiny metal devices seemingly implanted in them. A thin layer of static covered my eyes entirely.
For the first time since I'd seen that filly, I was lost for words. So many things in the Wasteland I'd been free to snark about, to be sarcastic to. But I had nothing to justify this. So, of course, I choked out the lamest excuse I'd ever make.
"M-maybe...they're contacts?" I was trembling. Trembling with the fear that I didn't exist, that I was a machine. With the fear that I had been made, not born. With the fear that nobody would care if I was smashed to pieces.
"Spark..." Jade began gently, but I didn't let her finish. I slammed my hoof into the bowl, sending water everywhere and my hoof through the bowl and into the floor. I ripped my hoof back out, taking chunks of the floor with it, and reeled on her. For the second time, my eyes lit up red, casting a menacing shade of crimson onto the back of the cell where Jade was cowering.
"I AM NOT! A ROBOT!" I bellowed, realizing too late that my voice was far louder than a megaphone. The entire camp went silent, slavers and slaves alike staring at me through the bars of our cell. After a few minutes of no noise whatsoever, the camp resumed its activities as if it had never happened. Evidently people yelled a lot there.
I turned back to Jade to find her, with a heaving chest, backed up against the far wall of our cell. My eyes returned to their normal color, and I sat down, feeling defeated. "...Sorry." She didn't respond. Instead, she got back up, walked over, and put her hoof on my shoulder. "It's fine, Sparky..." She soothed. "I understand."
I was a combination of relieved that she didn't hate me and angry that she called me "Sparky." I got up and looked back through the bars. A few guards had their hooves on their weapons, but nopony seemed to care about my outburst. "We need to get out of here," I murmured, hoping that a non-sequitur would make me think of something else. "Any ideas?"
"I'm as stumped as you are. But our best chance will be tonight, 'cause they'll move us at noon tomorrow." I gazed at the setting sun and turned back to her. "We'll have to hurry, then." I said affirmatively. "Blowtorch seemed to know a lot about this place. If he comes back, maybe he can help us out."
As if on cue, Well-Read stomped over, swung our cell door open, and shoved Blowtorch into the cell with us. As soon as the massive stallion slammed the door and stalked away, Blowtorch shot up and looked at me in mock concern. "Make sure you don't lose your voice, bud." He clapped me on the shoulder and turned to Jade. "What are we talking about?"
Jade gave him a look and answered, "Figuring out an escape plan. Any ideas?"
Blowtorch grinned deviously in reply, even giving us a short, maniacal laugh. "Glad you asked," he chuckled, "I happen to have a bit of intel, as it were. Good ol' Well-Read over there wanted to know how I knew so much about how the slave process worked, and I gave him some bullshit answer so I could get the hell out of there. On the way there and back, I picked up a few things, but I won't elaborate further into how I...came by such information. But, anyway. In the main control room, at the base of the far middle tower, there is a terminal. It's password protected, but I'm sure Sparky can hack into it."
Was "Sparky" going to become a thing? If it was, I sincerely wished I'd picked a better name.
"After the terminal is hacked, the controls on a panel to the right will be unlocked. Under a small glass shield is a red switch. Pressing the switch will automatically open all of the cells in the compound. After that--"
"Hold on." I interrupted. "I don't think these doors are automatic, just hinge-based. They're not wired to anything, not even a pulley."
Blowtorch rolled his eyes impatiently. "That's because it uses a talisman to magically open them. Now, as I was saying, the cells will open. Once you hit that switch, make sure you press the yellow button on the top-right of the panel to disable the alarm. There are more slaves in this holding area than there are slavers, and most of the guards will be asleep anyway. We can easily overwhelm them as soon as that happens. During the chaos, you can use the green switch directly next to the red one to open the main doors, and we can get the hell out of here. All of our stuff will be in the vault, which is at the top of the tower across from the one you're beneath."
Jade narrowed her eyes. "How exactly do you know all this?" she asked suspiciously.
"Let's just say this ain't my first time escaping." Blowtorch answered grimly.
"Fine, fine." I interjected. "How am I supposed to get over there without getting myself killed? I can bust through the wall, but that would make way too much noise."
"Hmm..." Blowtorch put a hoof on his chin as if thinking. "You have a plasma cutter in there somewhere?"
"What do you mean, 'in there?'" I demanded. Blowtorch looked confused about my response. Meanwhile, Jade's eyes widened and she shook her head wildly at him. This caught Blowtorch's eye, and he nodded slowly.
"Alright..." he continued carefully, as if not to provoke me, "Do you, by any chance, have a plasma cutter with you?" I couldn't even respond for a moment because of how angry I was at both of them. About five minutes ago, I was being treated just a normal pony. And, now? I was being treated like a dangerous animal.
I seethed, and stomped over to the bars. "Well," I spat over my shoulder, "let's see what the fucking Spark-Plug-5000 can do to help!" Leonard, do I have a stupid plasma cutter?
[Affirmative. Equipping tool...]
A short metal rod with a small, white-hot flame at the end extended from my left hoof. I angrily began melting a clean, pony-size hole in the bars. Jade was trying to talk to me, but I honestly have no clue what she was saying, because I tuned her out. I had no interest in whatever she was saying to cheer me up; I just wanted to get out of here so I wouldn't have to talk to these assholes again.
After an hour or so of cutting through the actually-very-strong bars, I was so focused on roasting them in my head that I almost let the circle of metal I'd cut out clatter to the floor. Thankfully, I was able to catch it with the SRTG before I gave away our entire plan, and silently laid it on the floor. I poked my head out, dimming my eyes as much as I could. Weirdly enough, there were no guards. I looked back at my cellmates, and whispered "No guards. I'm going to go for it."
"Alright," Jade answered sincerely. "be careful." I gave her my best go fuck yourself glare and slipped through the opening, carefully setting the bars back into the gap. They wouldn't stay for long, but it would have to do.
I crept along in front of the cells, earning myself several stares from the other slaves ranging from anger to confusion to desperation, some of them whispering urgently for me to take them with me. I did my best to ignore them, which wasn't that hard; by this time it was dark. Very dark. I couldn't see anything, and I didn't want to risk turning on my eye-lights and getting caught.
[Vision impaired by darkness. Activating night vision...]
Suddenly, everything turned green, including my now-dimmed eyes. It was still much darker than I would've liked, and the night vision was not nearly as useful as the eye-lights, but it was definitely less conspicuous.
Now that I could actually see, the fact that there were literally no guards to be found became more and more suspicious. Don't get me wrong, I could see the silhouettes of a few armed slavers farther up the compound, but nowhere near the slaves or my objective. At best, this is a trap...
I tiptoed behind what was probably an armaments vault, judging by the racks of guns I saw behind some barred windows. Probably best to remember which building this is, in case this escape goes sour...
[Waypointing Armaments Vault...]
Whatever that means. Probably something robot-related... I thought grimly. And then...I lost it.
I just had to think about that, didn't I? For the past 20 minutes, I'd been trying to forget that I was probably a machine. Now, one of my own sarcastic comments had wrecked my entire thought process.
I stumbled backward in a sudden state of panic, and fell onto the dry, cracking stone floor of the compound. I just sat there like a boulder, hyperventilating, for minutes and minutes, staring at my hooves and trying to think of excuses for why I definitely wasn't a robot.I CAN'T be a robot! Look, these are flesh-and-blood hooves! I'm not a machine! I'm not a machine! I'M NOT--
Thankfully, I was jarred out of my debilitating state of terror when heard a loud CRASH! Moments later, a gruff, male voice accompanied it. "Don't drop it, dumbass!" Worried how close I just came to giving away my position, I flattened myself against the vault, snuck to the front of the building, and peered around the corner to where several crates of guns were being loaded onto a set of carts. The voice belonged to a unicorn stallion who was helping to load the crates on. With him was another unicorn stallion and an earth pony mare.
The other unicorn picked up the crate he just dropped and heaved it onto the cart. "What does Merek need with a bunch of fucking weapons, anyway? We need these more than he does!"
"Be quiet, Spur." The mare scolded firmly, pushing out another crate with her head. "If Merek wants a bunch of fucking weapons, he gets them." The unicorn, apparently a delivery pony of some sort, scoffed. "And remind your friend what happens if he doesn't get what he wants."
"I know, I know!" Spur interjected grumpily. "If he doesn't get what he wants, he gets us."
The delivery pony gave a satisfied nod. "That's right. Are we done here? It's cold and dark."
"We'll be done when we're damn well and ready. Have some fucking patience." Spur retorted.
"Why, you--"
The argument continued. I wasn't listening, though, because I couldn't get my mind off the name "Merek". It didn't sound like a pony's name...or that of any other nationality I could think of off the top of my head, for that matter. Not only that, but, like many things I'd run across so far, the name sounded annoyingly familiar. I really wished that would stop happening.
My time to reflect was cut short as I heard approaching hoofsteps. In a panic, I dashed as silently as possible (Which was difficult to do in the silent dead of night) around to the opposite corner. The delivery pony, Spur, and the mare walked directly past where I'd just been standing, pushing/levitating crates. I had no idea where they were being taken, but it mattered little. I snuck behind them and across the docking station.
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Finally.
I approached the metal door of the far middle tower. I tested the door, and oddly enough, it was unlocked. I creaked open the door and tiptoed in. The tower was pretty much empty on the first floor, save a stone spiral staircase leading directly upwards. After sneaking to the top, I found another unlocked door, that was even open a crack. I peered inside through said crack.
...Really? One guard? That's right, there was a single guard slumped lazily in a swivel seat directly in front of the control panel. I silently swung the door open, snuck up behind him, raised my hoof, and sent it diagonally against his head.
With the near-humorous sound of what seemed like being hit with a frying pan, he tumbled off his chair and hit the floor. I couldn't help but snicker at how slapstick that sounded. I sat in his chair and scanned the panel until I found a port I could hack into. I activated my hacking wire, put it into the port, and...
Oh. Right. The end of the wire was still no more than a bunch of frayed wires from when I updated at Sugar Cube Corner. As if I needed to be told, LEONaRD piped in:
[Right HoofWire critically damaged and offline.] "Thanks." [Activating Left HoofWire...] An exact copy of the original wire snaked out of my left hoof. "...Thanks." I inserted the wire, and a small green LED on the adapter flashed a few times. I stood for a few minutes while LEONaRD did all the work.
[This terminal is easy to hack given your current hacking skill. Beginning decryption...complete. Locating correct system...complete. Breaching firewall...complete. Hacking Emergency_Panel_03...Complete. Opening panel...] The control panel beeped and opened up small sub-panel, housing several secret buttons. I retracted my HoofWire and rolled my chair to the other end of the control panel.
I located the switches Blowtorch had referred to, right where he said they would be. Before pressing anything, I looked behind me to make sure I wasn't caught in the act. After being absolutely positive that nopony would sneak up behind me, I lifted the little glass shield which protected the red button that would open all of the cells."Alright," I mumbled to myself. "Here goes..." My hoof got about a centimeter above the switch before it froze in place. Literally. I couldn't move it.
I almost thought I'd been caught before LEONaRD's voice sounded. [Control panel scan complete. Automatic Failsafe Locking Mechanism activated. Please do not make any further attempt to press the button.]
"Oh, come on!" I whispered to myself indignantly. "We're so close! Why not??"
[The switch you have intended to press is linked to several tons of TNT beneath the tower.]
...What? Alright, maybe Blowtorch had gotten that one wrong. I tried the yellow button that supposedly disabled the alarm, and my failsafe lock activated again. [The switch you have intended to press would sound the compound's alarm.]
I tried the other buttons I was told to press, and as it turned out, every single one of them would definitely kill me or get me caught. Blowtorch needs to check his sources occasionally...LEONaRD, can you point out which lets out the prisoners?
[No such button exists.]
Okay...disables the alarm?
[Button located. However, I cannot point it out. The Heads Up Display is offline.]
Dammit.
Well, Blowtorch clearly got his "intel" from the wrong pony. There was no point in pressing random buttons and hoping I don't set something off, so I decided to leave...There was, however, the dilemma of the unconscious guard in the middle of the room. I picked him up easily and tossed him onto my back like a sack of flour, walked him over to one of the supply lockers in the back of the room, and shoved him inside. Hopefully he wouldn't wake up until morning.
I trotted down the spiral stairs, looked outside and dropped my jaw. Airships.
Five huge boats attached to blimps floated in the air, circling the compound like sharks. I wasn't sure if they had been there the whole time or not. What I did know is that they bore the same mark as the crates being moved: The red letter "M" dipping with blood in front of a flame. No doubt, this was the symbol connected to this "Merek" guy.
They seemed dormant in the air, but I wanted to get a closer look. Thankfully, LEONaRD had my back.
[Zooming in 2000%....]
My eyes focused, and now I could see far enough that I could make out distinct features of some of the ponies onboard. Each of the airships were equipped with at least 30 broadside cannons per side, possibly more. On-deck were several manually-operated mounted machine guns, flamethrowers, rocket launchers and tons of other unsettling toys.
My eyes zoomed back out. They couldn't possibly have just gotten there, I must've missed them. It was pretty easy to ignore, to be fair. I had enough things on my mind, including, well, a serious identity crisis. Not only that, but the permanent cloud cover that stretched from horizon to horizon slightly obscured them. The only reason I now noticed them was that they were hoisting up crates via pulley onto the deck of a huge airship from the top of one of the storehouses.
As I said before, they were kinda just sitting there. I guessed that the four smaller ones served as a vanguard for the massive one in the middle that was hoisting up the cargo, which would make sense. The middle one was massive, about the size of one of the other airships plus another half.
They would probably leave once they had their cargo, because I definitely didn't see them when it was light(er) out. I decided to ignore them for now, and made my way back to the cell.
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"What do you mean!?" Blowtorch asked incredulously. "I got that info directly from a guard I tricked!"
"Maybe he was smarter than you thought," I offered. "Not everyone's an idiot." Blowtorch was having a difficult time understanding how the information he got could possibly have been wrong. He was being very defensive about it, in fact. Very defensive.
"Still! It doesn't make sense." He insisted. I didn't respond, because I was still trying to figure out how Blowtorch could just "trick" the guard into giving him information that specific..."It doesn't matter." Jade cut in. "What's important is that we now know what each of the buttons do, and we can make a new plan--" And then Blowtorch suddenly became aggressive.
"Did you even try any of the buttons, huh?" Blowtorch demanded, sizing me up. "Maybe your stupid computer brain is glitched."
"Blowtorch!" Jade protested. Unfortunately, at this point, there was nothing she could do. I didn't want to go into another panic attack about the whole 'robot' thing. So, of course, I let it out in a much different fashion: anger.
"Oh, don't worry, Jade," I said venomously, getting up in Blowtorch's face. "Ol' Blowjob here knows all about pushing buttons. It's what you've been doing the entire time, isn't it?"
"Spark..."
Blowtorch gave me a scoff and a smug look that made me want to fucking choke him. "I can assure you, I haven't pushed any of the buttons you've got under that fake fur." He put a hoof on my chest as if searching for one right now.
"Don't touch me." I warned, swatting his hoof away. Letting it out like this definitely wasn't the best idea. I knew that I needed to get myself under control; I could already feel my eyes beginning to change color.
"Maybe I will press one," he continued foolishly, pushing me back a bit. "and hope it's a self-destruct switch. Who would care? It's not like you're programmed to feel."
I snapped.
"Spark, no!" Jade cried, but it was too late. My eyes went red and my hoof slammed into the bottom of Blowtorch's jaw with a sickening CRACK, sending him tumbling backward into the opposite wall. He struggled back to his hooves, only to buckle and faceplant back onto the stone floor.
Jade ran over to his unconscious form and began inspecting his wounds. Meanwhile, I just stood there, all red-eyed and unstable, panting like a madman, staring him down as if he could still see me. "It looks like..." Jade began with a bit of anger in her voice, "with one punch, you somehow broke his jaw, shattered several of his teeth, gave him a concussion and fractured his skull."
And then, I said something completely uncalled for. "Good," I spat. "I hope he starts something again so I can rip his fucking head off." Jade stared at me in shock. This brief moment of silence gave me the chance to realize what I just said. My eyes slowly faded back to yellow. "N-no, I..." I insisted weakly. Jade didn't want to hear any of it.
"What the heck are you thinking?!" she demanded. "I can do all I can for him, but without my magic-" she pointed angrily to the magic inhibitors attached to the base of each antler. "-I can't fully heal him! He could DIE if gone untreated." She turned her back on me and resumed working on Blowtorch's injuries, completely ignoring the unintelligible mumbling coming out of my mouth. I was at a loss for words. I couldn't justify my actions. The only reason I had hit him was that I'd lost control, and that wasn't a good answer.
Instead, I hung my head and sulked over to my corner of the room. I felt...ashamed. A new emotion that I hadn't felt since before I left the Ministry of Wartime Technology. I didn't like it.
[Sleep mode activating....]
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"Rise and shine, R2-D2." I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and looked towards the offending voice, and saw something that made me suddenly very awake. I my head shot up and I scrambled back to the other side of the cell, where Jade had just woken up and met the sight before us with a similar reaction.
Blowtorch's clearly-not-at-all-broken jaw exchanged grins with the two slavers flanking him. "Looks like we woke him up pretty good." He pulled an electric prod off his back. Which, might I add, was strapped to the back of a slaver barding identical to that of everypony else in the camp.
Jade looked at him and squinted, as if she wasn't seeing correctly. "B-blowtorch? But...you were..."
"...healed up by my buddies!" he finished, gesturing to a unicorn next to him. "With a bit of unicorn magic and a few healing potions, I'm good as new!" As if things couldn't get worse, the other slaver standing next to him was Well-Read.
"Wait..." I sputtered. "You were a slaver?? The WHOLE time?!" My eyes turned red and I reared up, preparing to lunge at him, but I was met with a swat from the prod. For the first time, I felt pain.
My vision fuzzed up like a broken television, leaving me blind for several seconds. I lost all feeling for a moment, except for a searing, intense pain that arced throughout my entire body. When I could finally regain a bearing on my surroundings, I saw that one of Blowtorch's "friends" was struggling with Jade.
"You...knew those buttons would kill me? Why bother?! I thought you needed slaves!" Blowtorch shrugged as if that was a fair question. "Here's the thing," he said. "you are, by far, the most advanced and dangerous self-aware robot we have come across thus far." The word robot send a pang through my head.
Blowtorch continued. "We were thinking of keeping you, but we needed a better idea of what you were capable of. So, we followed you for a little bit, and decided we needed first-hand experience. When you plugged into that terminal, it was a perfect oppertunity to impersonate a slave, and gain your trust on the way back after we caught you. After I reported to Well-Read upon arrival, we came to the conclusion that you were too dangerous. So, since we don't actually know how to kill you, I figured an explosion would take you out. Just didn't count on you scanning it beforehand."
I looked over to Jade, who had lost the struggle and was getting the shit kicked out of her. I had to jump in before Blowtorch started monologuing again. "Leave her alone!" I roared. I leapt at him, my eyes once again turning crimson. He simply laughed, turned a dial on the prod all the way up, and slammed it into my head. Pure, burning agony laced through my body. LEONaRD suddenly piped in.
[Potentially lethal quantities of uninsulated electricity detected. System overloading. Scanning for source of electricity...confirmed. Three hostiles detected. Forcing reboot of automatic defense mechanisms...success. Engaging primary weapon system.]
What?!
My vision suddenly cleared, and I lost control of my body as LEONaRD took over. I shot to my feet and stared down at Blowtorch and his buddies. And then everything turned into a blur. Two spinning gattling guns, each about the length of my torso, folded out of two hatches on my back. I desperately tried to lock them down, but to no use.
All I remember from there is gunfire rattling my ears, four surprised faces, three bodies hitting the floor. Blowtorch, Well-Read and the other slaver's bullet-riddled corpses collapsed onto the stone beneath them. Suddenly, I regained control of my body, and retracted the guns quicker than I'd ever done anything, ever.
I collapsed to my knees, paralyzed by the fact that I had just killed three ponies. Three living, breathing ponies who had their lives ahead of them. I'd just taken away millions, billions of experiences that would now never happen.
Jade yelled in my ear, trying to snap me out of it, but it was no use. I was lost in my thoughts, paying no mind to the dull wail of the compound's siren echoing throughout the camp.
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Footnote: Level up.
New perk: Shoot From the Cutie Mark -- Switch into Combat Mode 20% faster.
Systems back online: Primary Combat System, S.A.T.S.
Author's Note
Jeez, where do I start?
First of all, I am SO SORRY that this took so long. School really kicked me in the balls, and finals are coming up! I hate 9th grade.
In happier news, next week is the last week of school for me, and I'll have much more time to work on this. The goal is to have at least (if not more) one chapter out per month.
I know I made that journal about starting another story as well, and honestly I'm still thinking about that. You might not see it for a few chapters, if at all.
But, for those who are still here, thanks for sticking with me! I'll try to maintain a much more regular upload schedule! Happy reading!
Thanks to SKpip, Cookiesaurus Rex, Macekill, and Vigilant Watch for pre-reading!
