In a dead landscape, a single figure trudged through the dusty paths. The sky was overcast, as it had been since he'd arrived, yet the sky never seemed any closer to giving up its moisture. In the distance, the figure could hear others in the wastes. Based on the gunshots and the screams, he was glad it sounded a good distance off, and not on his current path. As much as he liked helping others, he wasn't a hero. Hell, two days ago, he'd never seen a dead body. All he'd do is add to the death count.

A mission. That's what one could call it. Max just called it keeping a promise. A promise to a dead man who had no way to deliver the message in person. That was why he was approaching the settlement full of creatures that would probably kill him if they knew the truth. Some would call it insanity. Others would call it ballsy. Still others would call it assisted suicide.

But it was just a promise.

A promise to one of the only sane people he'd met in this Gods-forsaken land. A land where the sun never shined, where criminals were not charged as there were no courts. A land of death, of desolation. Murder, rape, cannibalism, and crimes that had never even been defined by humanity. The worst of it all though? It looked an awful lot like a game he played when he was younger. Needless to say, it wasn't so fun when you were living it.

One furry ear twisted at a rustle to his left, and Max immediately brought the pistol to bear in a telekinetic grip. It was one of the few things he'd been blessed with by the current form he was stuck in, being able to use levitation. Not as good as fingers, mind you, but it was close. Took him a while to figure it out, too. Wasn't even sure he could do it till he saw those... before they...

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He'd been torn between passing out, puking and screaming in terror the first time he'd seen the marauders. Nothing prepared a twenty first century store clerk for the viciousness that lies dormant in the hearts of sapient beings, waiting to awaken when the rules no longer apply. The caravan was ablaze, the smell of burning flesh and hair making him nauseous. The bandits were looting the carts, laughing amongst each other over the various faces their victims had made. Two were arguing over a particularly well dressed corpse, most like over who would get first dibs. A third was cuddling with a body that was missing the forelegs, giggling as she cooed loving words into unhearing ears. Finally, the one with the biggest blade he'd ever seen was reclining on a cart that was missing a wheel, demanding that his followers fix it up so they could use it later.

Then one of the corpses moved. Slowly, stealthily, the not-dead Pegasus was making its way out of the camp, one wing dragging limply in the dirt. Just as Max thought the pitiful thing would get clear, allowing him to step in and drag it to safety, a war cry went up. The survivor was spotted. Ducking out of sight, Max left the scene as quickly as he could without making a sound. The last he'd heard was a raider yelling "I said I called the fuckin' wings!" followed by an ungodly scream.

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He'd not slept that night, nor had he gotten much sleep the following night. Truth be told, he probably wouldn't be sleeping much tonight either, considering he was walking into the lions den. His mission was important, but so was the opportunity it gave him. Resupply, trade, learn about local points of interest. When he was done, he'd find the girl, Desert Thorn, and deliver the message, preferably outside the city, or in a secluded area. Receiving the message had been a powerful experience that nearly caused him to black out, he could only guess what delivering it would do. So Max would be cautious. It wasn't a game. That much had been made clear to him. No restarts, no checkpoints, no saving before going in to an area that may be dangerous. Approaching the guarded gate, he could only pray his cover held.

The guard, a dusty black earth pony, whose mane and tail were obscured by his armor with a broadsword strapped to his side, was eyeing him wearily as he walked up to the gate. Not being challenged, however, Max approached the gate and walked through it. He felt a quick tingle pass over his body as he entered, but dismissed it. No one was panicking, and acting out would only draw attention.

'Focus. Trade, then sleep, then Thorn.'

It didn't take him long to find the local bazaar, merchants bickering over who was cheating who, or the townspeople trading idle gossip as they went about their days. It was a welcome change of pace from the chaos of the wastelands, almost reminding him of the farmers market he'd visited a few times back home. He took a few moments to watch a few transactions to get a basic understanding of the values of the things he'd collected, picked a pony that tasted calmer than the others, and dove in.

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"I'm telling you, you little cheapskate, it works just fine! I used it myself not a day ago to fend off a wild dog."

"You say it's in decent condition? Do you need to get your eye's examined by Stiches?"

"The materials it's made from is worth more than fifty caps, don't give me that shit!"

It was, in all honesty, an enlightening experience. Each item was brought out, he and his victim/mugger would argue over the attributes of said item, a price would be laid out, kicked around, beaten till it couldn't move anymore, and the deal would be sealed. Then the next item would be brought out, and the process would start again. It wasn't something Max was used to, but it wasn't truly done with malevolence on either's part either. It was informative to say the least. All the tells that were different between species, all the tells that remained the same, he came away from the experience with more than spending money.

All told, it was kind of fun. After many hard-fought battles, some of them more difficult than some of the actual combat he'd seen in the last two days, he walked away lighter and richer for his troubles, found an inn that looked good enough to not have to worry about being stabbed in his sleep, and called it a night. He'd heard in the bazaar where his target was staying, so he'd get moving first thing in the morning. After that, it would be a trek to the city of Ville. It was supposed to have a decent library, and information was his primary deficit at the moment. Who knew, maybe the answer to his appearance in this world was there?

Curling up in his rented room's bed, he allowed himself to relax for the first time in almost three days. Yes it was bad, but he'd survive. It was something his kind were good at. Even if they technically weren't his kind anymore.

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"Chance? C'mon, speak to me. What's going on? Why do we have to go outside the gate for this?"

Finding Desert was easy. Convincing the tan furred and brown maned Pegasus to leave the safety of the settlement for something as simple as 'something I have to get off my chest' was another matter entirely. Never the less, they were currently just out of sight of the guard, and everyone else from the small town. It was time to make good on his promise.

Max's heart was pounding. He had no idea how he would do this, or what doing this would do to him. Hell, listening to Last Chance's last words had locked him in the form of the very person he'd made the promise to. What would this do? Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Max looked Desert in the eye, and suddenly, knew exactly what to say. The very instincts that dragged him into this mess, were taking him by the hand, and guiding his words.

"I-I'm...Desert, I'm so sorry it had to happen this way...

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Last Chance could only stare in confusion and fear as Des- no, she was back at the settlement- something that looked like Desert Thorn roused him while attempting to stall the bleeding from where his rear right leg used to be. It had been a stupid mistake, a careless one born of too many rooms with nothing in them, of too many trips that ended up fruitless. He'd not seen the rune till after it activated, and by the time he realized what was going on, he was staring at the stump that used to be his leg, the rest of it teleported to stars knew where by the array. He weakly reached for his flintlock, his magic flickering from the exertion, and drawing the attention of the creature.

"Your awake, thank God. Do you know where the nearest hospital is? There's nothing I can do here except stall the bleeding." The creatures eye's were watering "I'm so sorry, I've never had to do something like this before, and Ijustdon'tknowWHATIshouldbedoingTHEREHASTOBESOMETHINGICANDO!"

"Why, why do you look like her?"

"I don't know, I woke up inthis SHITHOUSE of a building, andGOD I don't even know what I am now, and then I changed again when I started trying to help you, and I DON'T KNOW WHATS GOING ON, OK?"

It wasn't her, but that was still compassion. The creature, changelings, that was what they were called, they were supposed to be feral creatures driven only by hunger. So what was one doing sitting here trying to tourniquet his leg?

"It's fine. Breath. Panicking will get you killed, so calm down." The creature took a breath through the nose, exhaling through the mouth. "Now, why are you here, and why do you look like her.."

It opened it's mouth, stopped, started, and stopped again. A look of realization crossed it's face. Then it turned and stared directly at him. "There's something you wanted to say, isn't there? Something you wanted to tell this girl, but never had the chance. Or maybe you just never got around to it? Never found the courage?"

"How did you..."

"I don't know." The changeling said, visibly calming. "This doesn't make any sense to me, but I know what I'm feeling. It's a purpose, something I need right now." Stepping around shakily to his face, and looking Chance straight in the eye, the creature commanded him. "Tell me what you want her to hear. I want to hear it. Every word." The creatures eyes seemed to glow with the intensity... no, they were actually glowing.

"Speak Now"

"I..I'm" Chance didn't know why; maybe it was the blood loss, maybe there was magic in those words, but he did just that. "Desert, I'm so sorry it had to happen this way. I wanted to stay with you every time I saw you watching me leave on my runs. I... You made it worth it. Every time I made it back and saw you, every drop of sweat was worth it. Every night I spent hiding from the raiders, I'd think of you. Every fucking cap I made was so that one day I wouldn't need to go out anymore." He couldn't help himself anymore, the words were flowing like his tears. "Every single cap I made that I didn't need to survive I put into this dream. To see you happy, to see you safe. And now, because I was careless, it's gone! IT'S ALL GONE! I'm so sorry, Thorn, Sun and Stars above, forgive me. Please, just don't give up. The money, it's in the safe under my bed, ta-take the key, I won't be needing it anymore. Find somepony who's not too afraid to tell you... how they feel. I love you. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. So...so....so"

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The next thing Max was aware of, he was facing a teary eyed Pegasus. "What, what kind of sick joke is this?" She demanded. "Why are you talking like you're dying? I DON'T GET IT! Stars above, do you enjoy breaking my heart? Was it not enough that I have to watch you leave, hoping that it's not the last time that..."

With a flash of green fire, the mare's arguments died in her throat.

"I offered to deliver his last words" Max said. "My promise has been fulfilled." Taking a deep breath, he noticed the huge amounts of energy that had been keeping him going the last few days were almost entirely expended during his trance-like state. The dying stallion had poured his heart and soul out to Max, and Max had delivered his words, and the emotions attached to them. All he had now were those he'd retained from home, Chance's gratefulness and happiness, and those he'd absorbed over the last day; not much, but it would last him. He hoped, as he certainly couldn't stay here. Not if the fear pouring off of Thorn was anything to go by.

Suddenly, an array appeared at Max' fe-hooves, followed by a bubble surrounding him. Eyes darting about, he counted five guards, two being unicorns, both with horns glowing the same color as the array and bubble. The guard he'd passed by the day before walked up to him and asked a single question.

"Did you kill Last Chance"

Max shook his head "I did not, I did everything I could with the resources I had to save him."

The guard turned to the one powering the array, who nodded. The guard looked Straight at Max once more.

"Did you harm any citizens of this settlement?"

"No"

The guard turned to the one keeping the barrier up "Drop it"

"But sir! It's a changeling!"

"He's also the only one I've ever seen with his senses about him. If we can let a Ghoul wander through town willy-nilly if they have control of themselves, I won't deny that to another creature. Or would you rather execute somepony who risked their life to deliver a dying stallions last words?" Turning back to Max "I will have to ask that you leave though, Mr..."

They were letting him go? He was certain... maybe things weren't as bad as he'd thought. He'd survived, and he would continue to do so. Max grinned, the adrenaline from what he was certain was yet another near death experience passing him by leaving him giddy. The happy died a little when they backed up from his exposed fangs, but he was going to have to get used to that for now. Taking a deep breath, He shifted his packs to allow his gossamer wings access to the air, fluttered them to make sure they were settled properly, then turned and started walking to Ville. No way in hell was he going to try to fly when there were so many lunatics with guns in the area.

You know what? New world, new life, new body, why stop there? "Ghost" He said, looking back at the guards with a grin. With a quick flash of green fire, his black shell almost disappeared against the desiccated ground, turning a mottled grey with patches of sickly brown.

He wasn't even thirty paces away when the guards lost track of him.

Author's Note

I'm fairly certain that raider scene is the single most twisted thing to pass from my fingertips. That being said, this occurred to me from a combination of too much Fall out, and too much love for the those shapeshifting little bastards.