Fallout: Equestria - Noble Sin

by BloodyBubblegum

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Sad, Romance, Crossover
Length: 35013

Sometime after the bombs and megaspells fell, the world was left in devastation. By the time the dust settled and all was still, Equestria regained a portion of it's structure. However... Not all is well. Equestria is home to everything evil.

Equestria was never the same after the bombs. But one thing it left behind, aside from a desolate wasteland, was a new world. Magic became the way of Equestria in the east. And science, technology, became the sword of the west. In the center, however, in the midwest and the north and south, lay an entirely different danger. When the war ended with the meganukes, the remaining elements of harmony were shattered.

With harmony gone, only sin remained. Evil took hold of Equestria and amassed for centuries, undisturbed by time itself. And, as evil festered, it separated into noble sin and pure sin. A land twisted and malformed by it's own childen, Equestria rumbles awake; it's stirred by the rise of its new, corrupted elements of harmony.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-27 02:17:26 UTC

Where You Belong

Sometime after the world grew larger, everything seemed so... bland. Rust took the hospital beds. The walls of the hospital complex were breaking down in various ways, from the chipping paint to the blackened, moss-bit corners leaking irradiated rainwater. The long-gone flourescent lights were ticking time bombs hanging from the ceiling, coating the floor with glass. And when the glass didn't puncture one's hooves, the scattered remnants of surgical tools would infect somepony with tetanus. These facts were drilled into her head everyday and every night wandering the ruins of her home. Her being a mare of little adventure and little presence, a lithe and sickly pony without a kill or destiny to her name. And her name was Silent Hill, the last known survivor of St. Michael's cryogenics project. Why was she the last survivor? She didn't know. Or care.

It'd been six days since she'd thawed out of cryosleep. She wandered the corridors of Saint Michael's on the seventh day, scrounging about for textbooks on chemistry, anatomy, medicinal sciences and all sorts of interesting things. The subtle, humdrum squeak and roll of her I.V stand followed her everywhere. Even in the pursuit of knowledge, it made her a trotting noise machine. A trotting target. The contents of its pack was regular, equine blood. Why blood, some might've asked. She didn't know. And she didn't care about her morphed physiology, only that it wasn't some gross homeless blood or some annoying bugchaser's donation. Silent Hill, rubbing her tired eyes, meandered toward the nearest restroom. Because boy was she tired. And that was with caffeine pills, which amassed near the E.R stockroom.

The mare stumbled into the remnants of a nice, cozy restroom. Even the bits of broken glass and absent wall couldn't bring it down. It was the only floor with a full, uncracked mirror. She looked again at the strange, glass portal. In it, she saw somepony with black, raven hair all neatly organized like a business pony's. The pony on the other side of the mirror held her hooves at her chest, glancing away when Silent Hill did. Their eyes were a perfect shade of jade. Like marbles stuck in the center of dry, bloodshot whites. Her chin was supple and so was her jawline. Silent Hill saw her pronounced canines, not daring to ask about them. She found the sharp, needle-like things... rather comely.

"W-well... see you later, miss. I'll be here tomorrow, okay?" She chuckled anxiously, slinking away and retiring for the night.

Her gown wrinkled against itself as she walked, blown back by the wind something fierce against her. The corridor itself had a gaping, menacing emptiness near the farthest exit. It was go forward or go back. And the various bits of white, ashy substance blew in toward her. Though it wouldn't have felt like a struggle for anypony else, Silent felt like paper underneath the gusts. As if she'd lose footing and blow away. Her eyes stayed clinging toward the last corner as she neared the titanic gape. Silent powered through and cautiously avoided falling to her death, grazing the dropoff region with the side of her left hooves.

She took to sitting in bed, rehabilitating with several, light weights from the old fitness centers scattered about. Five pounds was nothing. Ten pounds was normal. Fifteen pounds was her maximum, no-injury weight. Anymore and the mare couldn't handle the stress. It wasn't her back that gave out, but her legs. Triceps. Biceps. Everything else was so frail compared to her barely-functional back. Silent dropped her rubbery weights and watched the sun rise from out her half-shattered window. Below, the orange-kissed concrete was... swarming with ponies. Except, she heard their voices echoing about the vast and hollow city. One cackled wildly and asked if he could rape anypony in the building. Then, if they could use the body for a week's worth of hound meal after.

Silent Hill shook in-place, knowing they weren't normal ponies. Knowing they were just there to wreak havoc and use her for Celestia knew what. She couldn't fight. How could she fight three, four psychopaths all rushing in as a pack. Her lead stomach pulled her down and forced the mare to curl into herself. Where did she ever earn this. To die a nameless victim. Silent shambled out of bed and trotted about lost in her own thoughts. Too tired to panic. Too tired to think. Instead, she visited The Mare in the Mirror one more time. One more time before it'd all come crashing down. She held those cheeks best she could and felt the glass between them.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry we didn't do more. I'll be back, okay. There are ponies coming up here and they're no good. They want to hurt us... I love you. If I don't come back, take care of yourself. Run. Run in a straight line and don't look back."

Silent bit her lower lip, wiping her frantic eyes dry.

"I'll miss you. And- and goodbye- I won't- I won't forg-g-e-et you." She choked out, muffling her lips as she fought her urge to stay.

Her bandaged legs wobbled about every other step. The stains of dried, old red and fresh tears layered about like camouflage. She shivered and trotted half-alive throughout the halls, gathering furniture and miscellanic, heavier items. Silent slipped and weaved through the many obstacles in her way, hopping over puddles, misplaced vines and loose tiles. Then, it hit her, as she tripped over one and drenched her coat in disgusting liquids. She could set traps.

It took Sanguine Sonnet six minutes to successfully start the damn elevator. Her partner and the other two cursed in sweet relief. They rode the damn box up another few floors, stopping to find various trinkets and abandoned valuables. Sanguine Sonnet reloaded her .32 magnum, sticking one of those hollow-point rounds in the seventh chamber slot. It'd been forever since she could use it. The thought brought a smile on her face. To her left was Social Sonnet, who shared her crimson mane and bright, gold eyes. He wore his same painspike armor from back way east, even carrying one of those combat shotguns with the drum magazine. The grin he had on stuck in her head. Just like His.

"You sure like that gun, Sangie. You gonna use it on the first waster we find?" He asked, chuckling as she tapped his shoulder back.

"You bet. Ha, bet Dad would've loved to see me shoot his old Helmshotter. Best damn .32 I've ever shot, really. You ever know it had an empty butt for cigarettes?" She responded, sighing hard when her twin broke into laughter.

Right. Anything with the word 'butt' in it could potentially be funny. Lesson-learned and none-taken, she hushed, watching the doors open. They walked out of their metal prison and tread upon the 42nd floor, immediately noticing the danger of missing lights. However, the fresh bandages and snack wrappers littering the hall spoke of occupants. Somepony was there. And they were all delirious with hunger at that point. Sanguine Sonnet took the flank, watching for ambushes. Nopony, not even a late afternoon disturbed them. Social Sonnet bit his lip, resting a few feet behind the front to tie one of his boots right. He watched their leader fall over for some, awful reason. An eruption of long, scratchy screams assaulted his ears. The colt turned back to show the glass jutting out of his face, his cheeks and skin melting with a sickly, acidic smell. Social Sonnet stumbled backwards against the nearest wall, horrified and darting his eyes about.

"My face is fucking melting! Go get me a stimpak! Get me some meds...!" He howled, unable to stand on his hooves.

He slipped and fell all sorts of ways, burning and itching wherever the puddle he was trapped in touched. It stuck to his skin and smelled like a sour, bitter medicine and vinegar. Before long, his raw skin ate away at his conscious mind. He felt himself growing more and more lifeless while his blood hissed and foamed under exposure to the vile substance. The screams stopped as his lifeless corpse lay wide-eyed and eaten away.

Sanguine Sonnet clutched her gun and kept it pointed toward every, single sound that struck her ear. Her jittery hooves only grew worse. She heard the other lead pony shriek her lungs away, only to be cut away by inequine, crinkling plastic sounds. What would ever make that noise. What living thing sounded like a bag wrinkling and expanding constantly. Her fear shut her down as she charged the source, firing wildly at the nearest area of deafening noise. It was a lit room with the bullet-ridden body of her friend. She grit her teeth and stomped her feet.

"Y-you're not even gonna come out and fight me?! What kind of pussy are you?! Come out and fight me...!"

Somepony tripped near the doorway behind her. She jumped and fired twice. Sanguine Sonnet dropped her weapon and galloped over to her victim.  His lifeblood spilled over his coat and made him look like a target. Sanguine Sonnet shook his body and screamed his name. She shook him again and cried over his neck when his eyes started bleeding out. His legs were still warm against the spurting neck wounds. Before she could cough and hack her air away, she saw the world go... white. White, plastic material stole the air from her. No. It wasn't stealing her air, it just took away the air outside her lungs. She bucked and struck wherever she could but her legs were in the air and her back was slanted. Her stomach writhed as it burned and her chest charred deep inside. Her last thoughts were of father and her brother, at home eating meat pie and keeping mother clean of chems.

Silent Hill waited for her legs to stop bucking. They took to quiet, microscopic twitches. And then, when the mare with the orange coat stopped breathing, she pried the plastic bag from her own hooves and let it fall to the floor, where it belonged.

Pony Nature

The last of the looting took place in the lower levels, specifically the arid and preservative-laced morgue. Each of the four bodies were dragged on mobile beds to the operating tables. Silent Hill saw the mare in the mirror blurred in her scalpel blade. She decided it was better to hack the bodies apart and clear the organs out for bait later. What else could a mare do but get her hooves dirty in a dog-eat-dog world. Her eyes focused intently on her slicing instrument, stalking the metal tool as it flayed somepony's coat open. Who or what they'd been before, she'd leave unanswered.

She extracted the organs for a minute or so before growing nauseous from the burst of carrion scents. The warm bowel soup made her gullet lurch and strangle itself. Silent Hill shambled her way to the nearest exit, fighting her urge to shut down. What foul stench erupted from the corpse forced her to the edge of unconsciousness. Silent groped along the wall and swiped a cleaning spray of sorts.

The following dissections and dismemberments were done under careful use of her fragrance spray. It was also disgustingly blunt, to the point where she could breathe surface air and still taste manufactured flowers. Although she had no way to leave the hospital perfectly... Silent began to pack. Bloodpacks, stimpaks, morphine and jet. That was all she could find. Besides textbooks and syringes, she had little use for the rest of use. A hazy morning chill took her outside and kept the mare from overheating under stress. It was time to go. Dwindling food supply and a lack of civilization wasn't good for anypony.

The empty whispers of the ruined halls said goodbye to her. And though she visited the mare in the mirror, they had nothing to say to each other. Silent Hill couldn't stay. Though she wanted to find a reason that day to not go away, the lithe breaze on her back called her away, to wander astray as a stray till the end of days. Silent Hill spoke in her sluggish daze, kissing the reflective glass and watching her cry. Both stayed silent before saying those three words. And then they said goodbye, trotting and holding their heads high.

A world away, Silent Hill broke away from her ties to someplace called 'home.'

There was nothing but the wastes, her bloodpacks and the revolver she pocketed from that one mare. In essence, she was severely disadvantaged when it came to supplies and general endurance. But she'd been working out. And no waster psychopath could say the same. A stray metro met her wandering eye. She was stuck behind a crossroads of sorts. To the left was a metro, to the right lay some abandoned buildings and ahead, the highway went far as the eye could see, up a ramp which curved right and toward high ground.

Silent Hill avoided being anywhere out in the open. Their one, good eye slid toward the ground, guiding her as she traversed slippery and crumbling rubble. It wasn't another moment before she slipped into the shadows of the war-torn houses, each shadow around the size of a driveway. It was essential cover. Silent Hill's ears jolted upright. Something was off about the place. The scent of dirt and dust layering cement prevented olfactory investigation. She didn't hear anything in particular. Her ears just seemed to perk up.

'Closer, listen closer', she thought silently.

A low drone of humming and occasional growling caught her attention. The trail leading toward that horrid and eldritch noise drew toward the area behind the houses. Silent Hill crept noiselessly about the row of homes, soft when in the shadows and scrambling into them when out. She gently undid the knob of the last house on the right and entered, making sure not to shut the door.

Inside, it was messy. Messy and red, the abandoned setting told of a recently-departed resident. Food wrappers, empty tin containers and the presence of cigarette butts lay at her hooves. Her eyes stayed at the lights above, watching carefully as tiny, winged insects buzzed about it's dim edom. Why was the light red. She analyzed the few rooms present, never keeping her body too erect or stiff. All of them housed tomes and candles of sorts situated about wax and salt-composed images on the ground. One of the star circles had a tiny, mutilated body in its center. She didn't know what it was, or why it resembled a pony shrunk down to size. Silent Hill had the urge to bury it, so she searched for a shovel. Silent bumped into something unexpected. A wax insect sculpture the size of her hoof lay suspended over the remains. It was a red scarab. But it wasn't as important as burying the body.

Her search took her to a bedroom with bunk beds, whereupon she found a lead pipe beneath the bed. Her ears perked right up again. Somepony was home. Silent Hill crawled under the bed and readied the bludgeon between her teeth. It had duct tape on the handle area for better handling, thankfully.

The front door clicked open. Somepony shuffled inside with at least two other ponies, setting something heavy on a desk or wooden furnishing. Following were sharp, slicing noises and slippery flesh noise. It sounded like surgery, but in far less sophisticated silence. Then came the heavy, hacking and wacking and smacking noises. Something fleshy was being butchered and beaten. A soft, grainy chuckle broke the wordless air. It was clearly male and tinted with smoke beneath every word.

"This is why I cut up foals. They aren't hard to get at the joints. Mares and stallions are way tougher at the knees, you know?"

Another voice, deeper and more subdued, spoke in response. His steps echoed firmly throughout her ears. They were heavy. Dense. Each motion shook the floorboards and struck her stomach in soft, rattling shockwaves. His hooves approached the doorway and she held her breath steady like she did back at St. Michael's. The colt's hooves were not a foot from her delicate snout. He shuffled about, lazily and sloppy, closed to the bunk bed she lay prone beneath. Silent Hill steadied her chest and listened to her heart pound above the obnoxious radio he then switched on. It drew a dense cough from her disgusted lungs. Silent Hill could only imagine whence he accumulated the foul stench on his hooves just inches away from her muzzle.

When he was called over by his partner, or a similar position of trusted pony, she slipped out and hid behind the shrouded corner behind the door.

"I'll go get the jalapeños and beans from the fridge. Okay?" Stated the tenor colt, who left without another word.

That was when his bass friend entered the room. And when he entered, he made his way toward the bunk bed and peaked beneath it. Silent Hill crept over with her lead pipe and struck the back of his head. He grunted and turned back to see her. She met his eyes with another bludgeon to the nostrils. Before he could fight back, she dodged his wild haymakers by stepping away and slamming him with an overhead strike. He was knocked unconscious at least. Silent dragged his corpse to the corner behind the door, lamenting the loss of somepony else in the world.

"Alright, Hemp Necktie, I got the beans and the peppers. Let's get some dinner started."

It was his partner in the living room. Her ears perked up with each, muffled step against the ancient floorboards beneath. The closer he sounded, the more sickly her coat felt. Something crawled beneath it and pricked her skin with hot needles. It went right underneath her back, stinging Silent and driving her restless. Silent grit her teeth and itched in-place, bumping her pipe into the wall behind her.

"Hemp...? Hemp, that better be you." The colt called, making his way toward the noise.

The moment he walked through that door, the colt trotted just barely into the doorway. He opened the door and kept his back against it. Upon closer inspection, he discovered the wide-eyed corpse of his friend. He stayed trembling over it, holding their cheeks in his lithe and thin hooves. Beneath all his painspike armor, the colt sobbed his breath away and kissed Hemp Necktie's muzzle.

"Why... why didn't you yell for me. Why didn't... I... I stay here. Oh Celestia, I'm sorry . I didn't mean it. I didn't mean what I said earlier-! Don't leave me- d-d-don't leave- me- " He cursed, burying his face into their warm, fresh coat.

The rest of the words were muffled. And though she felt a pang in her chest, Silent Hill snuck out from where the bed frame obscured the bookcase. She took his life by the pipe, crushing his larynx by keeping it pressed. As he stopped bucking about and struggling against her, the mare moved their bodies into one, loving embrace. She stepped outside and into the lifeless living room, finding the mutilated remains of a foal next to a bag full of teddy bears and Fancy Foal Snack Packs. A swirl of memories dug cuts into her aching head. And when she realized what that small corpse really was, she razed the place to the ground and never looked back.

Trotting away from her most recent encounter with the wasteland, she saw a pony unlike any other walk past. It was down the strip of road each house neighbored that he tread carelessly about. Over his shoulder hung a drum-magazine combat shotgun. It matched his leather armor so delicately customized to fit his long and muscled body. He was a foot taller than Silent Hill and only shared a warning glance with her. Both of his eyes were a void black and furrowed to say 'you cross me and I'll put you down.'

What choice did she have but to shrug, consider her options and trot behind him. Silent Hill clutched her ribs and soldiered on, stabbed by damage the adrenaline couldn't fix anymore. And even then, her forelegs were squishy and limp, sinking into her near both, thin and wiry shoulders.

"... Are you lost, miss." He grumbled, pursing his lips and watching the road ahead.

"Not yet. I'm looking for a place I can find more psychos."

He gave a bitter chuckle and smirked all the way there, glancing back at her once or twice.

"You're in luck, kid. Psycho is the blood of the wasteland."

Hubris

Some ponies said walking the long road was good for the soul. For Silent, it was torture. She couldn't quite find joy in such demanding labor. Just a light trot hurt her body of paper and glass. Back at the hospital, she'd worked her legs so they better supported her weight and aided in sneaking. Actually sustaining constant motion burned both her shoulders and ribs, which seemed to rip and ache with acid. The mare put on her best poker face, keeping their bite-activated .32 pistol, which she named Hubris, out. Because it was such a finely polished revolver, but it lacked efficiency. How did she know it lacked efficiency? Because it had an awful tick that came after clicking the hammer back, which jammed if the metal was too cold. They ran into a wandering highwaymare a few yards back.

Silent had no memory of their face or voice and she didn't care to. Why remember somepony so insignificant. All that highwaymare did was prey on the disadvantaged. There was no reason. Besides, she shot first and asked questions later. All she did remember was how many juice caps her body yielded. Silent Hill rifled through her scraps of clothing and time-torn baggage. The situation was that she could've simply flipped them over to watch their cold, lifeless eyes, but she lacked the motivation. Her ears perked high as the flaking skin colt called over.

"Silent...! Did you find anything on her?"

The mare looked back with her eyes.

"Yes. But all I found were these juice caps. Isn't that a useless find." She remarked bored, yawning and staring up at the endless skyline.

It blanketed the wasteland in a nuclear winter wonderland. Tiny flakes of what she hoped was radioactive snow and not some sort of hallucinogenic drug fell about her. When it fell on her coat, it seemed to layer like a solid and not melt like snowflakes. Another call from her companion shocked her ears.

"Silent Hill? You got bottlecaps, right? That's what we use for money now. I know you're probably out of it because you said it wasn't a good find." He explained, trotting toward her.

"Oh, but... why would anypony use bottlecaps for money. Aren't they heavier than paper currency. And louder."

The ghoulish colt smirked after her observation, leading them north with his shotgun over his shoulder. Share In was his name, she learned after a night of travel. Though her tired and wide, childish eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, Silent thought of the city he detailed in their journey. His lips to her ears, Silent Hill listened intently while staring at the cracks in the pavement.

"If you keep looking so helpless and drowsy, you're not gonna make it in the other cities. Jail Seed attracts better people because it's a no-slavery zone. But if you went further south, you'd be collared by some Monarch roidhead. You gotta be on your hooves when you're out in the wastes."

They neared an empty crossing on the road, intersecting between dirt roads and the ruined pavement before them. Thankfully, the shrubbery that should've been there was non-existent. The megabombs blew it all to lifeless, decrepit husks of spindly, brown skeletons of old world vegitation. That way, nopony could ambush them. Share In pointed ahead with his pump shotgun. Not mere minutes away was a city built together in a piecemeal fashion.

The towering mess of construction walkways, converted mobile homes and recreational vehicles stood tall in it's many levels of scrap metal floors and displaced house walls. The walls carried a surgically torn look at the edges, conveying Jail Seed as an improvised home salvaged together from the very wastes it cast a shadow on. Along the edges were barricades of sandbags and turret walls. Around the main entrance, which used admission booths and chainlink fence gates, were walls made of broken carriage husks. All the rust and amalgamated textures fit the ponies guarding the entrance.

A few, tightly-concentrated stallions were clad in various bits of combat armor with a thin, leather underarmor. They wore visored race car helmets and toted .32 and .308 hunting carbines. One of the well-armed guards met Share In as he slinked over and presented the bottlecaps from earlier. They shared a nod. Silent Hill followed closely behind him, her gait patient and lazy, following the pace of her greedy eyes undressing the town.

For the first time in... ever, she felt truly unsafe in the wasteland. Everypony in the world tread upon the dirt and occasional dead grass of Jail Seed. Those who greeted Silent Hill often wore hats of some kind. From sharper, slimmer hats to wide-rimmed leather ones, she only met the nicest with her wobbly, breathless grin. What she really did was grit her teeth behind her lips, forcing them to flex upwards and back. One of those fine gentlemen were a stallion of fine muscle tone, a curious eyepatch over his left eye and a curious cowhide vest over red, long-sleeved flannel. His greeting was curious.

When the two met eyes, he took to some, peppy grin and asked 'y'all are new in town, aren't ya?'

Silent shrunk away from confronting his eyes, keeping her own from meeting his glossy, almost sparkling aquamarines. The wind blew his bangs about and barely misplaced them, barely affecting his vintage cowboy swoop. It was curious to spot his queer mane coloration and even queerer to comprehend his single streak of greyed violet corrupting his golden locks. The colt fixed his orange ascot and held his hoof out, which had a boot with spurs. And each time he did a dramatic gesture toward a place or person, they jingle jangled.

"Why, howdy there. My name's Apfel. Apfel Schnapps Mondstein. And if y'all don't mind, let me show you round town. I'm the sheriff of this fine place so let me do the guidin'. This here is the Jail Seed... Jail. I work here! And if you're not very interested in a couple of bars and the crooks cursin' out from behind them, well, I don't blame ya. Here's the Jail Seed Saloon, just left of the Jail Seed Jail; pretty convenient when you're tuckered off your tush and you need a good old Applejack Daniels to cool off your trigger finger . And let's not forget the heart of our fine city: the Jail Seed Jumpin' Jupiter Jamboree Demolitions Depot!"

The other places before the depot were nondescript squarish structures with typical old west architecture. What he described last was a dwarfing building twice the size of any other in the town with a bright neon sign urging everypony to spend caps there. Glowing explosives joined the name of Jupiter's with infinite, but very weak and harmless firecrackers. Apfel Schnapps shed a tear and held his hat against his chest.

"Ain't it the best damn thing you've ever seen...?"

Before she could do more than chuckle at his goofy charm, she found herself gasping for air. A droning, buzzing noise erected her ears skyward. She warned him something came their way, describing it's hum and mix of commonplace growling. Apfel's bright features turned a shade darker, inciting an eerie scowl over his lips.

"Two Bit! Rascal Roundup! Lasso Lament! Herd all the civilians in their homes and get the rest of yer asses behind me!" He barked, even soothing when he commanded his men.

They did nothing but nod and commence with clearing Jail Seed's dusty center. Before long, all was still. Share In rolled his eyes toward the silky winter sky and asked what the hell they were avoiding. He upsetthe three or four stallions in formation behind Apfel, but their leader chuckled at his ignorance.

"You done standin' all tall and mighty yet? Cause you should start crouchin' down a bit. A bugbear's comin for us and he ain't gonna take kindly to a challenge."

Heavy, thick dust clouds rushed toward them from the entrance of town. They all took their combative stances and steadied their nerves, clicking back the hammers and bolts of their red, white and blue weapons. A solitary boom of hunting carbines pounded in their ears. Silent Hill maneuvered behind Share In, unable to steady her peashooter. Because when the shots ran dry, the chainlink fence was torn down and flattened beneath the bugbear.

A chimera of sickly, mangled bear fur, a wasp's thorax and blade-like stinger composed a two-headed bear beast. It snarled and roared with wings beating loud as it bludgeoned the air. Silent's eyes went wide as it raced closer by the second, revealing behind it's cloud several other bugbears. A wild, inpatient count of four beasts crossed her mind. Before she could even fire, she was deafened by a cluster of revolver noise and stray muzzle flashes. The mare desperately jolted toward her left as one of the beasts struck Share In. A harsh, three-clawed gash ripped his chest open and he writhed on the dirt grunting in agony.

A wash of chaos ripped the town apart and drowned Silent Hill in sensory overload. What little firing rate she could manage with trembling hooves and a weak heart dwindled by the second. A lone thump was all she could hear beside the hoarse shouts of names and hot barrels spewing lead. She saw two stallions floored by tackling, savage beasts and sat powerless as they gargled out their torn and eaten throats.

Run. Run. Run. That's all she could do. Run.

Silent turned to flee, but her back was suddenly against the dusty ground. Before she could shoot, her chamber clicked dry. Two, menacing rows of razor-sharp teeth leaked slobber and carrion breath all over her coat. It snorted a burst of hot breath against her shut lips, licking at the mare and forcing a pseudo-gag inside her throat.

"What's wrong, you oversized bitches?! Can't take a colt and his gun mano e mano?!" Apfel barked, firing twin .44's in her direction.

The bugbear's right eye burst open, splattering red cruor against her snout. Silent Hill gaped her mouth open away from her assailant, inhaling sharply. It growled and roared his way. It's snout was blown in half, leaving a grotesque display of bone and rotting sinew hanging from the jawline . It started swaying in place.

"Yeeha!"

A flurry of rapid fired bullets and tribal yelping shook the town awake. It was mere seconds before the bugbear, once in a position to dominate the circumstance of her death, collapsed coldly to Silent's right. The dead weight was challenging to wriggle free from, but a helping hoof pulled her out. Apfel's guts and muscle slid her out with such ease, she felt like a ragdoll of some colossal child.

His aquamarine, right eye stared into her. And the eyepatch, metallic with a grated design, seemed to pierce through her as well.

"Miss...? Are you okay?" He soothed, catching her as she slipped from stumbling backwards.

"I... I think so." She whispered, looking down as her cheeks and loins burned.

No, it wasn't just her loins. Her head was on fire. Her whole body was baking. Silent tried to say more, but only a faint mumble of nonsense and swooning breath left her lips. And that was when the world went dark.

Nihil Sub Sole Novum

Pain. What she felt waking up was all the pain in the world and a surplus of pain. A rash developed on her cheek, swelling nerves beneath her greyed, canary-yellow coat. The rash discolored her cheek a cherry-like coloration. Only, the spot the bear licked shrunk to a perfect circle, resembling blush anypony working the corner might apply. Silent groaned and rolled over in bed. The springs were harsh and shoved back against her. The mare wretched on choking stomach pain. She hacked and coughed against the mattress, inhaling dust and lint all the while. Silent emptied her itching, scratchy lungs over the edge of her bed.

A hard, wheezing breath collected her throat gunk. When she spat it out, her gunk turned out a dim, midnight black color. It's consistency was comparable to ectoplasm, sharing the same, dim luminosity as necrotic discharge. Silent clung to her sheets and crawled hindhooves-first out of bed. She barely caught herself as her weight slammed into her forehooves. The shock struck her sore chest and made her muscles lame. Over white and black checkered tile, she crawled toward some worn, splinter-blanketed night stand. Silent Hill made sure to avoid the sharp splints and used the surface for climbing leverage.

Atop it rest her travel pack. A silent, but dense sigh slipped loose from her lips. She ruffled it's contents about in lazy circles and found a bloodpack. The urge to consume it's contents crashed against her cracked kiss cavern. The mad hunger drove her to sink her fangs in and drain it. Not a minute passed her before a weird, hollow swooshing sound filled her ears.

She tossed it elsewhere and drank another, closing her eyes it warmed her to the cote just to feel right in her own skin. Abruptly manifested hoofsteps perked her pointy ears up. They were fast approaching from down the hall. At any time, they could bust in and see her witchcraft. Celestia helped the outcast with her magic, gracing Silent when she bumped into a trash bin. In went the bloodpack wrappers and, from the small glance at the mirror from the door, another glance at the mare in the mirror.

Apfel swung the door open, trotting in to find Silent Hill not inches away from his muzzle. Her cheeks ran cherry and he chuckled shortly. Silent Hill shielded her eyes and scrunched her lips. Amused, he felt an ear-to-ear grin fill his lips.

"Nice to see you, too, miss. Did you sleep okay- oh, look. Your rash is gone. Ain't that just a hoot?" He elate, only to put a hoof on his chin.

"I reckon you're one of those special ponies, aren't ya. I don't know what kind, but ain't nopony in town recoverin' from the taint like you did."

That word sounded... off. Taint. It sounded harmful. So she inquired what exactly it was, slipping her rump over the nightstand and sitting atop it. Her hindlegs kicked gently about, settling her wide, circular eyes into free-roam mode.

"What... is the taint, exactly. You talk about it like a terminal illness or something."

He replied while trotting slowly around the room, checking on various medical supplies. His eyes went toward a study to the right of Silent. It had a mirror frame without glass, some notebooks and a picture frame of a family all dressed in cowboy hats, ratan hats and fedoras. His hooves went absentmindedly toward the photo.

"The taint is a result of white magic getting so strong, it left stronger black magic in it's place. Most of it's from the Old World, I hear. I heard Coming Storm talking about it once, when I took a hike up the Macintosh Hills. Said the old 'elements of harmony' got used more and more. So then the taint got worse. I reckon that bear you got pinned by had it. I uh reckon every damn critter in the Badlands has it."

Elements of harmony...? The term seemed familiar. But it was foreign. It was a phrase she didn't like to hear, for some odd pension to deny it's existence. Wait. Her ears went skyward and Silent Hill rest her chin against her hoof.

"Are all the animals in the wastes tainted...? Do you think there's a cure for it. Do you think we can stop the taint from spreading to ponies?" She whispered, energized and sliding off the sturdy nightstand.

"Boy howdy, if we could cure it, we'd be all over that cure. But there ain't no cure for the taint. You got a good look at what just a little can do to somepony. Something that fierce and that infectious ain't ever been cured, no matter what we try." Apfel answered, a lack of heart in his words.

Another moment passed where he stared into the picture frame.

"Just two months ago we had this girl in town dying from the taint. She was covered head to toe in rotten fur. When we found her, she couldn't do nothin but cry and shake. Said the pain hurt so much that it was all her body let her do. Had ponies all over from Manehatten to Las Pegasus try to develop a cure of some kind. No one could do it. All said the taint was a mix or somethin'. A magical virus you could only treat with a hybrid cure. I didn't know her well enough. But I saw the pain in her eyes. You don't wanna end up like her."

No, that... wasn't right. And Silent knew it wasn't. Something stirred wickedly in her gut. Beneath her burning, stressful thoughts, she felt something wrong about the bugbear last time. It didn't hurt her. It didn't maul her or try to eat her. But the absence of a violent response perturbed her logic. When did animals not choose to harm somepony even when endangered by other stimuli. She decided to ask another question.

Silent Hill was left at the mirror-less study with a few books on Equestrian wildlife, several bestiaries of naturally occurring animals and accounts of mythical creatures. The lone scholar devoted her time to finding out the correlation between equines and other residents of the animal kingdom. For good measure, she also hauled a dusty old tome about the taint from some enclosed and boarded-shut portion of the local archives. Inside those peculiar texts, she found that animals mostly attacked when they felt threatened by equine body language. Looking down at an animal, to staring at it, from making sudden movements and even taking them in as pets, all triggered hostile responses in most species. Silent Hill took little notes down about the various ways ponies were found soothing animals. Most of it involved feeding them and swallowing one's fear on close-encounters.

What was it about her, though. What was it about Silent that made the bugbear not want to harm her. From what she learned about animal psychology, the bear found some sort of affection for her. And in that moment, it wasn't hostile toward her and her alone.

Attraction. That was it. But what was attraction. It was something everypony, at some point in their lives, felt. It led them to act strangely around certain ponies and no one else. It made the mind... change. She discovered a potential cure for the hostile wildlife problem. If, somehow, she could find a way to build relationships between the wildlife and ponies... there'd be less danger in the wastes altogether.

Silent Hill jumped in her seat when Apfel dropped a box-like shape onto her desk.

"Wh-what is that thing...?"

Apfel Schnapps shook his head with a subdued, amused grin.

"Heh. You ain't ever seen a terminal before?"

Hacking and Whacking and Smacking

When the world brewed awake, it was quiet. Not a soul stirred and some things never changed. Equestria was still a gloomy world. The sky was still grey and all beneath it was similarly uninspiring. She finished typing with the last few clicks of her old world typewriter, unsure what to do when, for once, her paperwork was actually over with. Other drones were monotonously clicking and clacking their ink machines, staying in unbreakable trances and nose-deep in their paperwork. Four rows of secretarial ponies surrounded her at their stations. They were the majority of the petite, shoddy shack she called her thinking space. Before Mr. Littlehorn returned, she'd compiled all her wonderful texts and offered them neatly against his grandiose and polished study.

A familiar, surly and youthful Damien Littlehorn slipped inside their own, little slice of heaven. About his head were large, imposing horns that curled back and into a swirl. They matched his heavy, black eyes, muddled in dim and washed colors. His eyes were the most lifeless part about him, weirdly enough. Not even his mane, so polished with oil and shine, it was like some wax imitation of a businesspony haircut. Seating himself in the same old, plush leather seat crinkled his suit all over, especially his forelegs as they folded left-over-right on his study. His mouth parted for a split-second upon seeing the mare in his humble office. But that gave way to him spotting the assembled papers. Damien's careful eyes stabbed the paper over and over till the faintest hint of pleasure crept over his lips. His smile was a ray of sunlight.

"Did you really write all this just for us...?" The ram inquired, eyeing her between reading.

"Yes. I did. I thought you could use some more interrogation techniques. And ways to keep the recruits from being bored." She answered, sitting with both forehooves at her lap.

"It certainly is an interesting piece. You go down from saline solutions to bleaches and even chili pepper extract inside rotting wounds, to how to break a joint with less stress than needed. Tell me, Ms. Grins, where did you learn all of this delicious information?"

Ms. Grins held the back of her head, ruffling that portion of her cherry blossom mane. It semi-curled delicately about her youthful features, just falling an inch or so over where her eyes glowed a soft shade of the same color. It contrasted wildly with her... cotton candy pink coat. Across her thin lips spread an embarrassed grin of all sorts of interest. She closed her eyes and let her long, thick lashes intermingle. As she answered, the mare shifted in her seat, sliding her naked, flared hips over the dark leather seat. She was naked aside from a single article of clothing: a hat. The capé hat itself was a magical, childish thing, floating over her head and tilted toward the right. It was slightly undersized so it barely fit if worn properly. It had a single, silver star on the front.

"Experience, Mister Damien. I picked it up from working as a butcher for the Grand Pegasus Enclave." Replied Ms. Grins, her grin turning crookedly to the right.

"You... worked for the Grand Pegasus Enclave? But you're not a pe... Nevermind that, Ms. Grins. How would you feel if I told you I had a contract for you? We could use some experience like yours. And the pay will be most excellent." Said Damien Littlehorn, who shared her content sentiment, even putting his cloven hooves together.

The proposition was no more than five minutes decided, allowing her ample time to plan on reaching her mark. The who's and whats were easy to think about. She'd find that stallion and isolate him from his officers. Then, she'd snuff the life out of him by any means necessary. But how to reach him and where to go, she knew little about. Staying deep in thought, the bubblegum mare slipped out Mr. Littlehorn's office building, being careful to gently click the door into place. When that happened, she sighed at the click of a pistol hammer behind her head. Grins turned her head to stare blankly over her shoulder.

"For crimes against the people of Mini Soda and Old Appleloosa, you're hereby sentenced to death. Any last words, motherfucker?"

Ah. Another regulator. She had a mean scar over her eye. The geometries of her cur resembled a bugbear's claw tracing across her brow to her delicate cheek. Her wide-brimmed, leather hat only added to that oh-so-fawned-over cowgirl charm. What caught Grins' attention, however, was how nice her golden sheriff's star looked. Not to mention that delicious .44 with the ivory grip...

"Yeah." Replied Grins, letting her tongue hang out.

Her pronounced, wide and compact canines went on full display as her lips contorted into an angular, predatory grin. And when her enemy saw it, she also saw her sickly, white-blue tongue. It sent her hooves into thorough, heavy shakes. The other three she brought along followed like lambs to the slaughter.

"Should I roast you alive or fuck your corpse?"

A harsh burst of popping gunpowder struck her ears. Her legs sprung with astonishing speed for a mare of her muscular inclination, jolting her forward on thin and wiry limbs. A bullet grazed her nose and cut the bridge, putting a scowl over her lips. The gunslinger that bled her was tackled upward at the chest, knocked off balance and stomped unconscious. Another .44 round struck her shoulder. Grins took a low, bestial crouch and sprung again, sprinting past the shaky bulletspray. A desperate pistol whip struck toward her muzzle, only to be neutralized by rushing past the strike and headbutting her enemy. He winced and reeled back before she caught his bright orange mane. Grins embodied her namesake and felt content, showing teeth as she slammed his snout into the nearby door. He gargled on loose blood as it slicked his throat, spitting several teeth away.

"Good idea." Noted his captor, knocking his mouth into the brass knob.

He convulsed and screamed away, howling a shrill soprano while he was used as an equine body shield. Empty shots landed into Grins' regulator bullet sponge, forcing her last assailant to panic and hurriedly reload. Refilling his chamber, his eyes went wide as every bullet he grasped fell from his quaking hooves. He jumped when the corpse of his fallen brother was used as a battering ram. The last thing he saw were the whites of somepony's teeth. After she popped a .44 in his eyes, the air in his lungs gradually choked away on wet gargles. He lay paralyzed and pinned to the jagged, rocky ground while blinded by unimaginable, stinging pain. There were teeth dug into his neck and he was torn open at one side of his trachea, while something smooth and sharp flayed his stomach open. His dry and sobbing cries were all he could manage, having lost all the energy to buck his legs about. The colt struggled to find a place to hide away in his head. He fought everything in his body just to try and ignore the unthinkable sensations violating him in all orifices.

Grins finally dismounted her straddle and rest on one knee, analyzing her handiwork. His intestines were hanging limply about on the pebbled dirt, while half his throat was ripped open and the early foot of his rib cage lay exposed to biting, dusty wind. She chuckled fondly, bursting into a giggle when she poured sodium and chlorine inside him. There was no more pleasant part of her day than that particular moment in time. She held his cheeks with her soiled hooves and wished they were a couple he made her so happy. While he begged her to stop, she hushed comfort to her captive audience.

"I had a great time... If I could make you last, I would. But you're ready to sleep now."

All she had to do was take the hunting knife from his boot and slit his throat wide open. The wastes were silent again as Grins tied a noose around his neck and dragged him along on their very special journey together. A few times, she glanced over her shoulder to watch the bubbles fizz and hiss in his gastric acid sack, which had been sliced open just enough to reveal protofecal composition. It drew a curious thought to her mind, wondering if she could do the same to her target, Apfel Schnapps Mondstein. A childish, bubbly grin warmed her features.

She pondered, maybe, if the ponies she'd just eviscerated went to the same place, if they truly escaped to the great sky:

where the bubbles go.

Edge

When somepony sat at a campfire, what was the first thing they thought of. What was the first thing they did. It was usually a mixed response, but Grins knew exactly what they thought about. Food was their first priority. Food and fire went hoof-in-hoof. It wasn't a big deal, but she missed having a flame wherever she went. Not the silver lighter in her small pack, but a genuine blowtorch or one of those gorgeous flamers . Where was her Arson when she beckoned for flame one more time, to taste forbidden fruits of horse haunch sautéed in misery and seasoned with screams. Where did all that go. She sighed wistfully and spoke to her corpse friend, who lay beside her. She'd never had a real friend before. They would always stab her in the back, sometimes literally, but mostly with betrayal. They all stayed for some amount of time. But they all left sooner or later.

"Hey, Buddy. You comfortable back there? You know, I've been thinking... I don't remember much of this past year or any year before that honestly. Do you think I have a memory problem?" She hushed, glancing back at his lifeless, glazed eyes.

Just like all the other times, the dead spoke in whispers beneath sound. She could hear it in her head, like reading but without a voice to interpret emotionally. It blanketed her simple mind in whimsy and comfort. It was something she missed about speaking to the deceased.

'Of course not. It's all in your mind. Literally. What you should be doing is finding ways to send Apfel Schnapps to the void. And you can ask Father where to take shortcuts. Offer a sacrament. Hurry.'

Well, okay, she told the voice in the corpse. She'd find a sacrifice. But who. And where. The wind blew west, in the same direction of Jail Seed. It took her a moment to notice microscopic traces of light in the distant night. Grins took out her binoculars and felt her jaw drop in pleasant surprise. Not half an hour or so away, if she stalked and prowled, there were ponies around a campfire. Following one of the more garish ones, she first noticed that his armor consisted of clothing scraps, some costume leather and a firemare's helmet. Secondly, she spotted a young female in a white, torn dress being ravaged. The space between her legs was crimson and bloodied by dry, muddy stains. That wasn't fair. They got to have sex and she didn't get any pleasure out of it. Sex was not some one-sided activity that was just casually abused. It was one of life's simplest pleasures.

"Buddy. I'm going over there. Stay safe. And be good, I'll be back in a bit." Hushed the mare, setting her pack down and accounting for all the items.

There was barbed wire, an unmodified .22lr pistol, some .22 ammunition and some duct tape. Well, it could be worse. She could have been in an area without some arid tree life. There were still some husks and skeletons of radiation-afflicted trees. And that would make a big difference. How Grins went about it was not cautiously in the least. It wasn't before long that the raiders assembled in their cozy, makeshift campsite were perking their ears and snouts up toward subtle noise. The five amassed near their victim boasted about how anypony dumb enough to fight them would be split apart by buckshot. That was, of course, before they heard a sort of uneasy... laugh. Listening to the faint, yet approaching noise of shrill, hyena-esque giggling did nothing but keep them jittery. What was it. It sounded like a pony but what the fuck was it.

Their most muscular and athletic member started talking.

"It's just a scare-tactic. It ain't a monster or anything like that. And even if it is, we can shoot it down with our shotties, okay? I guarantee you we can."

At least half of them tried to steel themselves, gulping harshly against the dry and biting ash filling their open mouths. What was it, or who was it, seemed irrelevant. All four were at the ready with their combat shotguns and pump shotguns, wearing bandoilers full of bullets. And the most muscular wore a few grenades at his hip, just behind and into his cheeks. The noise, much like a hyena or a twisted monster laughing at his newest victim, sped toward them. When they heard the sound of galloping hooves, their nerves cooled significantly and left them more lax. Shooting was about nerves. Just breathe and pull the trigger, they all repeated.

What they saw made them completely pale. A mare with some sort of lifeless canine head manifested from the edge of the badlands shadows. The neck portion synthesizing her savage jawline and pony fur seemed ripped off, but sticking against her coat. Her long snout and sharp, feral jaws had another pair of teeth on the inside. In an instant, they fired without another thought, spraying it with buckshot. And, oddly... that's when the beast died in a perpetual crouch, it's organs licking the dirt below.

"Hey, guys, I'm all out of shells." Sighed their leader, turning back to meet them.

"Good." Grins elated, clapping her hooves and springing up from behind the body.

Before they could reload, she fired little bursts of .22lr rounds at their throats and knees. It was a struggle to stay conscious, much less up when their knees collapsed from such trauma. The throat injuries followed severe, lethal blood spurts. And that was when circulation was cut from the brain. Only a moment passed when Grins was stricken by the butt of the alpha's combat shotgun. A black, vile effluvium trickled down her snout and hissed against the dead soil. Her scowl, from being struck at all, lit ablaze with an animate, almost sparkling display of teeth. Instead of firing her weapon, she holstered it for the last colt standing.

"You wanna die that badly?!" Her enemy barked, infuriated at his buckling knees and tight, stabbing stomach aches.

While she pulled out her barbed wire, which was at least a belt's length in measurement, the stallion presented a hunting knife made out of a sharpened bugbear stinger tip, an ice pick handle, some duct tape and linen bandages for better grip. Although the alpha male advanced slowly, he worked up enough confidence to grin and toss a few threats her way. He'd do what he did to the other mare and slice the baby right out of her. He'd turn her into a pet and shoot her knees out. The way he stalked, his shoulders puffed and both forelegs curled at just the right angle to blare his machismo bravado.

And that's when she started giggling again. When she started laughing at him, cackling and kekking. She was having trouble breathing, he bull rushed the bitch. His grin grew wider as he felt feedback on the hilt of his poisoned shiv. That was when he realized the feedback was his blade caught in her barbed wire garrote. A moment passed before his eyes went wide and he felt the Stinger Shank slip weakly from his hooves. Chilling, silvery metal pressed just where his neck and head melded together. He swallowed his words when Grins pocketed his knife.

"Careful with that edge. You might cut yourself on it."

A rapid burst of crackling gunpowder made the world go black. In total, six rounds were stuffed tightly into his cranium. The sweet gush of red and grey matter stained her barrel. And for the first time ever, she felt a different triumph glancing back at the mare in binds. Fresh, thick tears slid down her cheeks and mingled with the dried blood. And below that were her bruises. Her scars and infected cuts all over her nubile flesh.

"Poor girl... I've spilled enough blood already, haven't I...?" She soothed, unable to look away from them.

The inanimate corpse peered into Grins with empty sockets.

'That is sufficient. For tonight. Do not waste this bounty. Father doesn't want this one, Bubblegum. So you can keep her...'

Oh boy, she hushed excitedly, clapping her hooves together. It terrified her captive audience. Who was she. What was she going to do. The mare in the white dress shook her head and choked out little creaks of what used to be begging. Her squeaking register only made her captor rush over to squeeze and hold her. Whatever she wanted, that broken and torn dress wouldn't protect her. She accepted that her limbs stopped working when they stopped feeding her. And that was why she closed her eyes, unable to fight the one setting her into bed and

kissing her forehead...?

"I've always wanted to do this- wait, let me see, you should lift your dress up a little so I can get in the mood~" Rambled Grins, beaming her wide and ecstatic grin.

What? The mare in the white dress could at least feel that thing pinning her into position. Sure, she wasn't pressing against her and their forelegs were to the sides of her shoulders, but she couldn't say no. With burning, tingling heat coursing through her itching loins, she looked away and lifted the hem of her skirt just barely over one, puffy pubic mound. Grins enjoyed watching her grit her teeth. Bubblegum loved observing her facial twitches when she brushed along their inner-thighs. It perked her ears skyward when the mare beneath her trembled, scrunching their lips or letting loose her breath. At first, she felt right about claiming her spoils. That was before she glimpsed again at the dried blood between her legs.

Her cherry blossom eyes waxed wide.

They were hurting her.

A single tear fell off her cheek and against the mare below her. When she shed another tear, her eyes flooded with dull, blurry water. She clung against her and said she was sorry she didn't find her sooner. A steady, hurtful chain of sobs cut her breath away. By the time Bubblegum started sniffling and trying to swallow her choppy, disjointed words, she felt her holding back. They wiped her tears and whispered in her ear.

"It's okay. You've done alright."

She kissed her muzzle and held her till morning light.

Assimilate

Silent Hill banged her hooves on the weak and ancient study, forcing it to wobble on it's loose legs. Unbearable, swirling thoughts and quandaries pricked her head with hot needles. A young, anxious mare stood before her, shaking quietly at their random, terrifying outburst. What could she say. What could they do but slowly shuffle away avoiding eye-contact.

"No- wait-! I just- I just need time to study one of these animals in their natural habitat. I can't do it anywhere in town because it's not a controlled environment. I just need a fucking breakthrough right now. And I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad. I'll make it up to you later." Silent explained, leaving her chair and not daring to do more damage than she'd already established.

Before leaving, her eyes followed that cute, little librarian. And when she remembered the idea of making it up to her, Silent snickered at her own gutterbrain. It drew a squeak from that timid, hoof-biting mare that couldn't take her eyes off. They both knew why. Everypony, at some point or another, defaulted to wanting to try new things. And when everypony else had enough testosterone to bar fight every hour of the day, a lithe and damaged little mare from out of town piqued her bored, little lips. She knew how fillies worked. And that filly was no different than the others: in love till she woke up the next morning. Both parted ways, one with their head held high in pride and the other in timid humility.

Silent Hill would have a formula for the perfect pacification pheromones and nopony would stop her from doing so. She remembered the various types of bonds equines had with animals. And though she didn't understand where she came in uniquely, Silent exacerbated her mental processes trying to isolate her winning variable. While perusing the various texts on her desk, she recounted what she'd learned about elementary chemistry and biology. Pheromones attracted. Sexually. Neurologically. It lead to communication and...

Connection.

That was it. She finally had the answer. Her eureka, though so atomically explosive, rapidly fell by her waist side. Where could anypony find a zoologist. Where could anypony like that be found in the wasteland. Just as her thoughts clustered, she bumped into somepony else. A familiar, western dialect graced her ewrs and forced them upright. Even in pain where most mare's hated, she only rubbed her rear and avoided eye-contact. What could she do. What could she say. Anypony nearby could spread rumors and ruin her access to mercantile services five towns over. Before her swirling thoughts consumed her entirely, Silent let loose a harsh, heavy sigh. Across her seated tush lay Apfel grinning in pleasant surprise. He wore that same, glinting grin that caught her eyes and warmed her thighs. While he dusted himself off, he used his forehooves to sweep her off her hooves and stand her up again.

"We gotta stop meetin' like this." Apfel joked, giving her red-kissed cheeks another, healthy dose of red.

"As if... we have to stop anything from happening." She replied, rubbing her own cheeks and hurriedly scampering away.

Oh Luna. She did it again. Another piece of the puzzle to her strange bodily symptoms and more embarrassment. Why was it that Apfel made her feel when nopony else did nearly the same thing. Even when he barely did anything with her, the attraction was clear as glass polished hours on end. So what was missing. A return of affection. By Luna. Did Apfel even feel remotely the same. Whirling storms of variables spun her head dizzy. She barely knew him. And he barely knew how or who Silent Hill really was. She trotted feverishly toward a gap in the archive walls, sliding through an irregular, circular gap in the wallpaper. It hadn't occurred to her that circular entrances weren't naturally occurring geometries, unless...

Inside that cramped, shadowed space was a strange, aquamarine glow. And inspecting it further revealed it's source to be some displaced terminal. Yet, even in such an odd area, it still happened to work, even neighboring a potato light circuit. She flipped it on and froze in her figurative tracks. To the left of her froze, wide-eyed expression was a canine beast frothing at the mouth. It had the same type of mange and torn, leathery skin as that bugbear from the last incident. It's long, blur violet tongue lolled about and slopped against her pale cheeks. Silent grit her teeth and looked away, fighting to hold her breath in. Before she could shut her eyes, a viscous wash of heat struck her loins. Silent groaned beneath her breath when she felt it lap away at her honeypot. She should've been horribly disgusted, but, her molester brushed all her right spots. Their thick, reaching mouth muscle had a film of spit that tingled between her folds. And she bit her hoof, unable to tell herself to move. She really wanted it to mount her.

"F-fuck me. Is this why that bear didn't cut me open. He wanted to have me instead...?" She grunted, staring back in panic.

His front paws were on her ribs. Shit. She bit her lip when the feral beast pushed inside her. Tensing everywhere, she felt her breath sucked away by it's dense, stretching cock. Her mate had a slick, pre-lubricated member that came in a comfortable, flat tip. And that forced a sharp squeak from her scrunching lips. All she could do was groan and cover her face while all her needs were satisfied by a random animal. She couldn't even move because it pinned her against the dusty flooring. An urge to grate her throat shot into her body and out her gaping maw. Squishing, firm claps assaulted her insides, forcing Silent to bite her lip and breathe. It hurt at first. It was licking away at her burning insides with precum. Warm, sticky precum coated the narrow walls of her honeypot. It drove her crazy. Before she could even think of bracing her body for some sort of climax, rich, lukewarm spunk shot up her body. Silent Hill gave a soft, wincing cry as she lost control of her legs and seized wildly, melting under her first orgasm.

She felt it take some part of her between it's jagged teeth and hold it for leverage. Something lithe and numb that she hadn't noticed at her ribs before. The canine held her... wings in it's mouth and clapped against her to it's heart's content. When she realized she was soaking wet where it came inside, she shivered and clung to the terminal, groaning and cursing at how good it was. How good it felt to have her body shot into over and over.

It growled a low, primal noise, before entering her other place. A harsh squeal struck the air as she shut her eyes. Silent Hill tensed her back and shoved her rear up, letting it's knot shove in and claim her ass. By the time she was used for a fourth load, Silent shook all over and enjoyed the tingling life coating her intestines. Another few thrusts and she was packed full of canine seed. She gasped hotly and let her breath tickle the canine's snout. When it licked inside her mouth and made her maw sloppy with spit, she enjoyed returning the favor. Soon, her mate fell asleep, having rested atop her. Silent Hill felt limp and tired, relishing their sexual fallout.

That was when she realized the terminal had information gathered by something called the... Grand Pegaus Enclave. It was a scouting journal. The first entry detailed a nearby place called Saint's Fall, where metaequines known as 'Clonelestias' were dipping ponies in a genetically modified virus strain. In absolute disbelief, she glanced back at the canine that'd just made her their's. It had hooved hindlegs.

Render Unto Celestia

The badlands were a cool temperature at night. But Bubblegum Grins was pleasantly surprised. It was only half past sixteen and a gentle, forgiving breeze kicked about her mane. Sure the very breeze that comforted her brought dust and nuclear snow all about, but she didn't mind. When her empty mind was disturbed by disjointed, wheezing coughs and hacks, Bubblegum glanced over her shoulder. It was Cherry. Cherry Night. Judging from the state of her wings, all disjointed in the farthest wingtips from the body, she needed help. All it took was a crooked smile and a good, strong back to carry her along. Though she felt nice helping Cherry not die faster, Cherry herself replied sourly.

"No, no I... I need to walk myself. Please, Bubblegum, I- I need to recover by myself." The mare grunted, her white dress torn at the hem and limply flopping about.

Glancing back revealed her eyes blaring with struggle. One was violet while the other filmed in a sickly blue. Across her muzzle lay a bandage that scrunched well with her perfectly white and stainless teeth. Honestly, if she hadn’t suffered horrific rape a night earlier, Bubblegum would've been behind her pulling that silky, midnight mane.

"You're dehydrated, traumatized from repeated physical and mental shock and your lungs are probably cut by dust. Not to mention all that radioactive snow you must a swallowed, Cherry. If you could sing a whole song without falling to your knees, I'd let you down. But you aren't."

Cherry's eyes widened in both disbelief and complete surprise.

"You... you diagnosed all that without even using a WristBelle...? How? You- you've changed so much since we... worked back home." Hushed her friend, letting her lids grow heavy and limp.

It had been a while, she replied, keeping her interlocking lens and glowing eyes on the wide-open wastes. Not two meters away, they spotted a crashed vehicle buried roughly into the red earth kicked up by impact. Approaching the crash made her mind cluster and zip about with flooding memories. Her hooves crunched and shuffled about on the amassed white blanketing the ground. It was as if the earth bled when the crashed sky vehicle dug it's thin landing skids into Mother Equestria. Cherry's voice severed her flash flood of remembrance.

"You... remember, don't you. I do, too. This is where it happened. You never knew how I felt, but I was planning to drop Sargent Summers. I- I was but right before I had enough courage, they took us down." Cherry hushed, holding tighter against her savior.

"I didn't want to leave you, Bubblegum. None of us did." She whispered, only to sniffle at the thought of what could've been.

Her words fell short of their mark, she worried. The silence blanketing them wasn't just her old friend being totally alert and aware of the surrounding wasteland. It was just her being angry. Being hurt. Someone else left Bubblegum and surely, after all that time, she'd crushed the last bit of forgiveness she had left. A weighted, harsh dip drooped Cherry Night's brows. Her head hung low and water threatened to spill out from over her heavy, tired bags. When they stopped in their tracks, Bubblegum made her heart stop.

Grins took to a low crouch. Slowly, her ears rose and twitched in certain places with eldritch motions. And so did her right foreleg. The motion barely registered to outside observers. She'd learned to control how severely her body shook when it told the immediate future.

"As much as I want to say I forgive you... I don't,"

Cherry felt her heart squeeze. A fresh tear slid down her plush fur.

"But."

Her eyes were hopeful, growing broad with light barely registered in her pupils.

"That doesn't mean I don't love you. I'd love to play dating sim number sixty nine all over with you. It's just that we... are being watched. And I smell bananas."

Her hope stayed, but gradually, it shifted into pure, unadulterated dread. Her brow worked a cold sweat and her forelegs pressed hard, constricting tight into their partner's chest musculature. Her trembling lips parted to urge her. To scream out to the last pony she could ever stand to be by let alone feel anything warm for.

"Run."

The familiar spin and rattle of a spinning barrel sprung her into action. No wonder there was no heat around her. Somepony was manipulating the sky over the AV2-Vertibuck. Her suspicions were realized when a CSG-1987 reared it's golden barrel out of the clouds. Her hooves kept them just inches away from the monstrous solar plasma scorching the air behind them. A haze of snowy mist and brilliant, gilded light tailed their every step, forcing them behind the vertibuck. A constant hail of explosive, superheated photons bit their barricade and sent them into chaos.

Cherry scoured through the remains of her last transport, tossing away random junk and trembling enough that her grip slipped every time. Before she could yell to see if Bubblegum was alright, she praised Luna for her find. A rusted, yet functional MLPX Novasurge Saddle burst to life from it's rubble prison. She handled a saddle grip between her teeth and yanked, crashing her on her rump. Bubblegum, instinctively speeding over, barely dodged the solar spray raining down on them. It only took a few minutes to attach her saddle and brace it for intense directional stress. Cherry winced when glancing down at her flank, where the cutie mark on her right side used to be. Instead, her black, oozing blood hissed over the charred remains of her roasted flesh. Bubblegum kissed her lips wet with slime and gagged her a few times with their snaking tongue.

"I'm okay. Hurry, and start shooting. I love you." Soothed her beloved, only to limp toward the interior of the Vertibuck and search through the mess.

This was it. She had to do it. Cherry Night Sky, a name she forsook two years ago, seemed so fitting at that moment in time. Somepony had to light up the sky and fight for what they loved. They'd never make it running. She'd never prove how she felt if Bubblegum never saw her fight. So her teeth grit behind the pressurized biting grip. Without looking back, she told her she loved her more and soared.

Her wings, though worn and beaten from the horror of the week prior, they had newfound strength. In the air and without a care in the world about being shot down, she followed the wind tunnels and twisted by the law of the skies, zooming past the steady stream of solar plasma singing her coat black. Her altitude neared the point where a mare needed a suit to feel healthy. Cherry's eyes started to twitch. Her hindlegs grew heavier and heavier till the clouds, so desperately near, grew blurrier and blurrier. Despite those damned Celestia clones setting the clouds higher than they ever were before, Cherry Night reached for the barrel below the clouds. A deep breath settled in her exhausted lungs and she whispered without regret 'this is for you, Bubblegum. it will always be for you.'

A blinding surge of white, supercharged magic struck the sky above, dwarfing her in it's brilliance. There were only two times in her life she'd ever seen an overclocked Novasurge streak the sky white. Once, when she was a child fleeing with her family in a shaking vertibuck, and the other: when they were ambushed in that very same area by the children of the old warrior goddess Celestia. Before long, she felt the sting and rip of heated sun beams tearing her legs apart. It didn't matter. When her novasurge struck the source of the spitting gattling laser, she sighed one last time.

Another three, four gattling barrels peaked out from beneath the sky. And she glided just over or just below their shots, finally sober enough to fight like she used to. It took an endless trance to handle the tremendous gravity of being fired at from all, perceivable directions. Nopony else could handle it but Cherry. Why?

Because she was a god damn legacy. She was the best of the best. A daughter of the Grand Pegasus Enclave. And nopony would shoot her down till a better Equestria laid her down to rest.

Two down. She spun in a spiral formation to avoid the lagging accuracy of the spinning streams. Cherry furrowed her brows as she fired where a long neck and a narrow snout might have been. Attacking in a horizontal manner, she slid by and sliced the head off of her third enemy. Three down. Her chest stung and felt like someone took a laser lance right between her ribs. Cherry Night Sky spat her blood away and retaliated. One, last stream of blinding supernova white put an end to the rush of battle.

That was when she finally closed her eyes and thought of that one, charming mare she met as a young officer. When that same mare, her mane long and pink with bubbly curls, showed her how to fight for what she loved. A high tide of days spent sneaking around Celestia Clone Facilities and taking them down with her bare hooves crashed over her. The lessons Bubblegum gave her on hoofboxing. The way she grinned her easy, fangy grin when she taught her how to ignore pain by focusing on her loved ones. It put a smile on her face before she crashed into the red earth and watched white snow dance around her. They were doves and wishes suspended in time as Bubblegum Grins cried over her and held her cheeks. They kissed while the world turned black.

She savored the kiss of that same, childish girl she told that same, childish story to so long ago. It stuck inside her mind as the last of her blood spilled out her shattered skull. Cherry Night Sky held her hoof and told her she'd done alright. When she was gone, she'd be there in the great beyond.

Where the bubbles go.

Who?

Apfel stared at her in disbelief, knowing just exactly where that smell came from. He just plugged his unpleasant thoughts away with her new find. He reviewed the notes she complied not a night ago and slowly realized the implications of some enclave asshole in their town. Apfel's hooves scrunched the paper near torn, only stopping short of it when Silent Hill called his name.

"Apfel...? Apfel, what's wrong?" The mare whispered, her lips wibbly and wobbly when he almost glared down at her in residual rage.

What was he thinking. In a split-second shift, he pretended to drop her findings. A warm, hushed tone took his voice as he complained about how his vision was going to Hades and how annoying it was he has to squint all the time or whatever. It followed Silent Hill saying it was fine because she needed to revise the notes and font anyway. Even if he disagreed, he grinned slightly and nodded his head in big motions, only to inquire why she wore such heavy-looking saddlebags. Why not, she joked, saying mares loved it when somepony packed big. Her real answer was less amusing and more insanely worrisome.

"I'm going to find that veterinarian that Bookmark Bliss told me about."

His lips pursed into a soft 'what?' complete with mismatched brows and everything.

"Why are you gonna go and risk getting pumped full of holes for some weirdo on a hill. Plus, you shouldn't even listen ta Bookmark, okay. That girl says aliens are real and that they took her on a ship with a cowboy, a swordpony and an old Great War soldier. Does that sound like a sane pony to you?" Reasoned her crush, who even held his head with his hooves.

Though he might've hoped for a different response, all she did was shrug and recite a line of prewar nonsense.

"I reject your reality and substitute it with my own." Silent Hill replied, ignoring his many attempts at stopping, reasoning that anypony who lives by themself and loves to study animals might be a creep and even his declaration that she was being completely reckless by going herself.

She dropped her notes and went to retrieve them, spreading her hindlegs just enough to pull her nethers apart. Silent Hill took to a soft, wide grin that made her eyes heavy. She responded after chuckling to herself and holding a hoof over her lips.

"Who said I was going alone? I need a big, strong colt like you to hold my hoof, you know."

He rolled his eyes and followed just behind her.

"Overt flirtation won't get you anywhere. I don't even swing that way, Silent. Not to mention I ain't a colt to have sex with a pony I don't even know. Unlike you, ya beaster." He remarked, crashing face-first into her fishy and horribly feminine crotch.

Oh boy. Well, he said, fixing his wide and leathery hat. He had to go take a very long and cold shower. His mare friend grit her teeth and let him trot away in silence. So he really didn't have the same feelings. Not at all. It wasn't fair, she thought aloud, dragging herself out of the southern Jail Seed exit, speaking of how attractive bachelor stallions were compared to straight stallions. And when she took off, by galloping and keeping her body low for minimum drag, she went in a straight line and never looked back. There was no love there. None at all. If it wasn't there in the first place, why did it hurt saying the truth. It shouldn't have bothered her that somepony didn't love her.

By her side returned the canine mutant that took her first post-awakening. It was a large, dog-like creature with a diamond-studded collar, each of the diamonds stained with dried blood. She hadn't noticed before, but somehow, his body of twice her size had a vest-like article of clothing. It might've been a flak jacket of sorts, just torn by time and use, evidenced by the circular rips and tears. Thankfully, Huge Oh, as she nicknamed him, because he made her mouth a huge 'o', wasn't out for her blood. His claws were no laughing matter. They weren’t absurdly long or spindly enough to be impractical and they were thick enough to have a dull, heavy edge. That splinted armor apart.

"Are you ready to keep me safe, Huge Oh? Because I'm not gonna lie- I can't fight as well as the rest of them-!" She huffed, galloping at a leisurely pace compared to any athlete's.

A warped, jeering sort of smile bore his teeth for her, resembling some sort of nightmarish grin. But instead of doing anything carnal or violent, he barked happily and put her atop his back. There, she rested in complete comfort, needing only hang onto his collar, which had actual handles for anypony riding his back. A curious find, she noted, keeping watch for her Huge Oh.

Atop his back, not only did she enjoy the uninhibited view, but a certain earpiece of sorts lay transfixed right over his left ear. There were a great amount of annoyances in dealing with it's static-drowned output. She couldn't ’t hear anything but a humdrum repetition of steady, rarely spiking white noise. It nearly bored her to death before she sighted a high hill in the snowy distance. Not three meters away lay the lonely home of a hermit. Though she wondered where Mini Soda went wrong with how little of civilization laid intact, she found the vast emptiness comforting. There were no ponies to tie her up or mutilate her. For as far as the eye could see, the badlands were empty. At least, away from the reported magical advances of Whinny Hapless, to the underground laboratories and military encampments of Saint's Fall.

Silent Hill braced shut her eyes and watched Huge Oh tumble to the ground. She held on for dear life and panicked with wide eyes, drawing Hubris from her holster. When they skid firmly against the red earth and dust and ashy snow, she leaped off her mount and assumed her battle stance. Who was it. What was it. What hurt her mate. The answer burst forth from the red soil. Covered in bits of countless pebbles and sediments were two, adolescent Hellhounds. They resembled Huge Oh, but were a head shorter and had warped arms and legs, they being much more compact and built with heavy musculature. They both had a tendency to snort and huff hot air out their wide and powerful jaws. Silent Hill noted their distinctly tomato red coats, remembering the terminal back at Jail Seed classifying them as 'abominations' and not actually mutated animals. If anything, their glowing, white eyes said the same thing about their monstrous nature.

She held her meager, malfunctioning revolver in position. If anyone tried to hurt Huge Oh, such an intelligent and caring creature, she'd have a few, leaden words for them. Even when they snarled wildly and raced toward her, claws tearing and kicking the rocky dirt below, she'd never move an inch. The first shot rang wild as it barely penetrated the closest hound's collarbone. Another shot and it's jawline leaked slobber and blood. Another crackling shot rang through the air. He stumbled and staggered backwards when she managed to rip his right eye open. One more shot before they were seconds away and she managed to ground him by capping the other eye.

In that moment, a wave of memories penetrated her very being. Flashing images of walking on the clouds entered her damaged mind. There were other ponies just like her, with wings and witty observations, slipping into suits of dark, metallic armor that fit around somepony when they struck a spot on the chest and inserted a key of sorts right beneath the hidden codpiece slot. And as ridiculous as that sounded, it worked immensely. A mare of around middle-age stormed past them in her own power armor, which held a thundercloud at the flank, etched into by some rainbow energy. A marching, dozen or so armored pegasi followed just behind her, armed entirely with minigun battle saddles and, in some cases, those same pegasi boasted large, surging plasma cannons crackling with white magic.

The warm rush of blood and numbing, overwhelming pain flung her back to reality. Silent Hill skid along the dirt and tumbled about till every inch of her body felt shattered and ripped open. In some hopeless attempt to stand her ground, she fought her body with broken hindlegs. It was rushing toward her. That red hellbeast was taking a b-line toward her sorry ass and she wasn't even properly dressed to die.

"Do you know who I am, you sorry ass mutant!" Silent Hill roared, her voice even forcing the hellhound to stutter and stop in it's tracks.

"I am Senior Airmare Silent Hill and you are a sorry excuse for a killer! Let me show you what a real killer looks like!" She barked louder, her eyes starting to glow a faint, translucent red.

Something twisted burst out her tainted, morphed eyelids. A coursing hatred of the hellhound and it's kind, of that whole god damn wasteland coursed through her and made her blood boil. That's when the abomination felt a hole rip through it's chest. When that frail, little mare was pushed far too hard and rays of cherry red magic ripped it apart. It's last few minutes of life were spent shuffling toward the hole it'd burrowed out of just before. When it's claw reached the entrance, the rest of the Hellhound stopped moving. Silent Hill collapsed and crashed on her side, hacking and coughing black, oozing discharge. Her eyes hurt the worst. They felt the equivalent of hot nails digging into them from all directions. Bloodied, broken in her hindlegs and most certainly left for dead, she only regretted being such a pansy for so long. For not getting back in shape and wandering the skies like she used to... before the great war forced them all into stasis pods. Her eyes closed for good and she took a deep breath to stop the pain.

Silent Hill jolted awake in a cozy cabin bed, attempting to sit up but reeling over from stabbing rib pain. Her ribs were slashed apart by that god damn mutant. She muffled her lips and coughed firmly into the pillow that used to be under her. Not a few feet away sat somepony in a red scarf and some sort of white, shining labcoat. It was a chemist's coat, composed of material that forced liquids to slide right off of it. His backside was turned shamelessly toward her, resulting in a full view of his rather... heavy sack.

His sack of random technological components he used as a seat. The unnamed stallion tinkered with a few, odd trinkets. Some of which lay beside him resembling a battle saddle, only, there was one overhead barrel with a disc-like chamber and a sliding door mechanism at the top. It had a little lock at the handle for the sliding plate, which probably required an actual key. Her careless gawking left her vulnerable. A stray, booming cough erupted out her stupid face.

The colt jumped in his seat and started an annoying beep in one of his contraptions. He scrambled to take it in his hooves and hop out of the seat. His eyes were open past the normal calm and collected look most scientists had. It didn't suit his soft, almond browns, which was worse because they carried a certain shine to them most fillies would be jealous of. He cursed and panicked wildly in a smooth, almost female castratto that put her at ease. It all seemed a lot funnier than it should've, though.

"Oh shite shite shite why did I have to start working on you, you damn matter displacement core!"

The finicky and almost hysterical colt dashed toward his door and chucked the trinket far, far away. And to Silent's surprise, it arced and flew far, far farther than any other waster could ever hope to replicate. If she didn't know better, he had a few good stones under his coat. When Silent saw the door shut, she instantly barked at him to get near the bed. He didn't understand, but his body complied, jolting him into a baseball slide beneath the cheap and rusted bedframe. Silent Hill covered her ears and opened her mouth before the god damn explosion happened.

The cabin rumbled alive and his door flung wide open, shattering some of his windows and leaving the iron bars completely marred by shards and radioactive snow. Her host crawled quickly out from cover and peaked outside. He let loose a high-pitched cry and rambled loudly while spraying the outside with a fire extinguisher. His planning abilities and useful foresight deeply impressed her. And when he trotted back inside, the colt's bright amethyst mane was a right mess. It was far too oily ans far too dusty to look professional. But it did match his tender, slender features. He wasn't very muscled or broad-shouldered, but he had slim arms and subtle chubbiness around his gut.

"Terribly sorry, miss, I had no idea you would wake up and no idea the matter displacement rifle would be such a mess, so I beg you to pardon my atrocious house etiquette." He rambled, planting his hoof against his forehead.

"... So you're the one that saved my life. What happened to my friend. The big dog thing with pony legs." She yawned, rubbing the grains from her blurry eyes.

"Oh, you see... he's still asleep. But he has lost a tremendous amount of blood. I'm still making sure he recovers. I attached a few sensor module stimpaks on his back, where hopefully, when he has enough strength, he can tear them off himself. They'll activate naturally if his body is low on blood or his nerves receive an overwhelming pain stimuli. R-right so, excuse me, I never asked your name." He rambled again, ruffling the back of his mane.

Silent Hill wondered how such a capable man could be so dorky.

"I'm Senior Airmare Hill. Silent Hill. One of the last real daughters of Equestria. And you, sir...?"

"I'm uh, well, I'm Doctor..."

"Doctor... Who?"

"Doctor..." He trailed off again, swallowing a hard, dense lump in his trachea.

"I-I'm Doctor Brown. Doctor Hot Brown."

Silent Hill chuckled and let her eyes wander sideways.

"So you're a shit doctor?"

For Auld Lang Syne

Silent Hill looked up from her papers and spotted a pink... pink and pinker mare trot into the library. Nothing about her seemed right. Especially not her hat, which actually floated about her head in it's barely-matching size. Right as she took to studying the mare, right when discerning that she had a thin, yet dense musculature, their ears started twitching. Silent Hill would've looked away. When she didn't break her stare, the pink mare twisted her neck one hundred and eighty degrees. She literally stared at her from behind. Silent felt a bead of heat prick her scalp. Their eyes were fish-like. And yet, there were concentric lines of glowing pink all around them. They moved and functioned... like a camera focusing it's lens.

That's when the pink mare tipped her hat, she took a bow before trotting off elsewhere. Bubblegum slipped through the crowd of cowponies in town and snaked her way through the various regulators suddenly amassed in Jail Seed. How many were there. She climbed the local saloon by leaping, gripping loose air-conditioning fixtures and windows. Her ghostly step allowed her to find the roof and establish a vantage point. It was there she counted, making sure to include the capable gunslingers, too. Seven regulators. Five pistol ponies. All the regulators used cowboy repeaters at that point. Ooh, but some of them had grenades holstered at their belts. Unable to resist, she clapped her hooves together, bursting with glee.

Bubblegum trotted off the building and scaled off it, using her hindlegs to land with one, ghostly thud. It came to that, for some reason, there were no wanted posters of her anywhere. Instead, she saw, inspecting a nearby saloon wall, they set out for someone called 'December Snow.' Her picture detailed a pair of horizontal slit shades and a gold chain around her neck. For some odd reason, they wore a tiara, too, it being encrusted with many jewels and a twelve-pointed star. She wore a fur-collared coat and boasted a diamond ear ring on her right ear. December Snow was only a bust on a wanted poster, but she could feel the life breathing in and out of her picture. It said her bounty was ten thousand caps or fifty thousand New Celestia Republic dollars. Bubblegum pocketed the poster and tucked it away in her bag. It still felt heavy. Good. Nopony took it out of her pack. Yet.

When somepony walked past the saloon doors, she spotted a familiar, blonde stallion with a lavender streak through his hair. Apfel Schnapps Mondstein trotted into the middle of town square and began to preach something at the top of his lungs, drawing everypony from their homes. Even some of the fillies and colts clung gently to their parents' legs and knees. He climbed atop a large and hefty crate, standing on three hooves and gesturing with one always in the air.

"My fellow Appleloosans...! We've all gathered here today to meet a common goal! When you see these children and look at the hope and fear in their eyes, do you feel good about that...? Do you feel good knowing that the moment you let them grow up and walk out the door, some junkie raider could come by and do Celestia knows what to them?! Chances are, you don't! We all know why we left Appleloosa. We all know how it feels to be under fire or raids or anything like that...! We need to go back to our roots and start being rangers again! We need to make the wasteland a better place before it makes our children's lives a living hell! We found a Grand Pegasus Enclave terminal somewhere in the library not two days ago, and you all know what happens when the Enclave finds a town...!"

A wordless weight took to everypony's face. Their features froze in something like pure, incomprehensible dread. The prospect of the Enclave's return and subterfuge of their town not only frightened them, but it lit them up with desperation. Apfel didn't have to say more. Everypony capable went back into their homes and between town to gather what they had. After watching everything unfold, Bubblegum knew it was too late. She couldn't kill everyone in Jail Seed, much less afford to. They had children. The best course of action she knew was to find and warn remnants. Before she could turn around to move, she bumped into somepony else. Silent Hill rubbed her muzzle and winced at how it bled. Immediately, her pink friend took a stimpak out their bag and hoofed it over. When and only when Silent Hill took her gift, she'd trot off without another word. That is... until Bubblegum Grins spotted their wings.

"That's a cutiemark. A real cutiemark. And you're not a dashite." Hushed Bubblegum, her eyes hanging at their hooves.

"Yeah...?" Silent trailed off, confused and scrunching one of her eyes up.

"You're one of them, aren't you. One of the... pegasus ponies. Come with me. I know where to find some WristBelles. When you get one of those, you can use them to communicate with one of the sanctuaries."

"... Why should I go with you? For all I know, you could be springing an ambush or some kind of sick cannibal baker party." Silent retorted, even keeping her hooves away from the looney beside her.

"Because you wanna kill some muties and I wanna make sure Equestria doesn't stay in the hands of backwoods dickheads that raise their children to shoot at ghouls for fun."

"... Okay. You've got my attention. How are we... all three of us, going to do our country proud?"

Saint Michael's was still as rustic and shoddy as ever. It and the rest of the cityscape were the last remnants of the old world in Mini Soda. The rest of it turned to snow and red sand or random encampments for high rollers in the game of power. How and why did they know that? On their way, they passed an eight person unit of what could only be described as the hardest bunch of warriors Silent ever met. Each and everyone toted laser rifles or assault rifles. None of them had small caliber weapons and none of them even cared an assassin was right beside them. Since, at the time, it was a narrow passage where it happened to be a long stretch of tunnel, they all walked instead of flew. And there, in that car-cluttered tunnel, the two parties met. Silent Hill noted, as they left, every member of that squad wore MK II Combat Armor with a white gryphon's print over the chest region.

Bubblegum only tipped her hat to them and spoke when the trip arrived at the hospital. In the elevator, she told her ignorant and blissful friend who they were. While they did it, they shared some Space JAM, which was a pre-war jelly of sorts preserved in a can and dried into a chalky, thick clay clump. Adding water would inflate and enliven the jam and welcome the consumer to a slam of flavorful fruit combinations. The one Silent had the pleasure of tasting was mangoes and pinapple with hints of orange.

"That was Talons. They're a huge company of mercenaries that take most of the contracts in Equestria. The Ivory Judgement, or 'regulators', some call them, do all the clean contracts first usually. And the least amount of contracts goes to Mister Damien Littlehorn. If you need someone to shoot when you're bored, I'd try the Ivory Judgement. But if you wanna avoid being strangled to death or turning into ash, stay away from the other two. Believe me when I say Gawdanya Grimfeathers will send everyone she can to get a contract done."

By the time her explanation finished, she was left with an equine skeleton in the elevator.

"Ooh! Does this mean we're gonna... bone now?" Bubblegum teased, grinning wide as ever and looking sideways at... something.

"No," Silent Hill called, at the other end of the hallway, "we just put it there so you'd be motivated to move faster."

Fine, she sighed to herself. Buddy was dragged along by his hemp leash. Thankfully, he was still dead. She couldn't handle the responsibility of something that breathed. The pink pony pranced about behind her peers before perking up at her precise, little pony ears. Somehow, a sickly thing found it's way into the hospital. It was a mess of writhing, slimy tendrils with phallic tips on every tongue. It's mouth, which housed a head rotting and stripped of most it's flesh, was gaped apart so loosely that it'd fit a diamond dog. The creature towered and scraped the ceiling with it's half-present black mane. Every portion of the hospital floor shook.

Bubblegum Grins took her Plasma Offender out her bag and popped it in the face. It went down in a hail of obnoxious, crimson energy. The high concentration of heated plasma also managed to dematerialize it's mark. A sloppy, viscous wave of goo crawled toward them and stuck to their hooves. Ms. Grins have a perky, open-mouthed smile when her friend asked, in utter disbelief, where she found a plasma pistol.

"I found it in a crashed vertibuck. I have another one here in my bag, but it's not something you should use. Your taint is off the charts. Get one drop of blood into one of these plasma cores and we all go boom."

Bubblegum trotted off before she had the chance to ask questions. And when she trotted after, the damn pony started galloping. They went on a tireless fucking chase to the basement level, following all the stairs and opening all the doors she could slam into. After so many fucking floors of glass bits, mossy water, large insects and grenade piles that actually exploded just minutes behind her, Silent Hill just barely fought to keep up with the ever annoying Bubblegum Grins. Her frail and acid-eaten muscles were dense as rock when she fell against one of the corpse cabinets. All that dizzying, heavy breathing left her a mess of heartbeats and wheezing pants. Subtle, ghostly hoofsteps perked her ears up. Silent turned to look when she saw Grins holding a Clonelestia head with her teeth.

"Luna fucking Starswirl what the holy Hel is that fuckin' thing?!"

A warm, girlish giggle crept out of Bubblegum's mouth and slipped through her grin.

"Hi, Silent Hill. I'm a mutie. I'm a hivemind thing. I dip ponies into my secret sauce and make more of myself. Oops, but you don't know what it is, so I'll tell you.. I use the forced evolutionary virus to alter equine genetic makeup and then it turns them sterile, uh oh! But at least it turns them into me. Oops! I made another dumb! When you mix taint into FEV you can make a chimera! Waw waw waw."

Soon as her explanation finished, Silent asked 'what the fuck is wrong with you.'

To that, she only replied 'nothing at all and everything at once, baby.'

Bubblegum Grins struck one of the sliding storages open. Inside was a corpse with a golden, blue-striped jumpsuit and a wrist-mounted device. It still had a healthy light shining on in some dim standby mode. The light was a shade sky blue. Examining the tech further, she found dials on the bottom of it's bell-shaped frame. The screen itself resembled a vertical rectangle.

It came with all sorts of features, like an inventory sorter, a chemical dietary diagnosis and even a special feature called Belle-Assisted-Targetting-Software. In order to actually utilize BATS, however, she needed to either wear special contacts or spectacles. Silent went with the spectacles. They were box-shaped in frame and even made her look dorkier than before.

"... Bubblegum. Before I tune into this radio or whatever, how did you know all this. How did you... make it so easy to make things work out. Are you psychic. Can you tell the future?"

Well. She never believed in that nonsense before but nothing was implausible anymore. Hadn't her eyes shot magic not a day ago. Didn't her friend just magically approach her and make her dangerous trip a breeze. An answer came, after Bubblegum lifted a manhole cover off the floor.

"I am a little psychic. I get feelings. Twitches right before something happens. And then the voices tell me about where to go or what to do. I guess I am sort of telling the future all the time. But I never know if I'm always right. Knowing... what to do before something happens or what to do when it does is easy to do when you are psychic. But it doesn't mean you have to be. Just make inferences. And analyze the circumstance."

Bubblegum grins sucked between her teeth. That bandaged mare asked another question. One more. And that was the entirety of it, she promised. In fitting words, she asked 'why did you know so much about the muties?' What a bothersome question. When Bubblegum answered, their eyes focusing on the floor beneath and each limb still, she'd recite her story. Silent Hill heard whispering static fill her ears.

"... When the enclave found me, I was in a cage. But I didn't get locked in. I was just in there, holding a Clonelestia head. Singing lullabies to it, Cherry said. Back then, they found me here in this morgue section. Only, the Hive Celestias found the hospital and put their FEV here. Poor bastards.

They put me in a vat of FEV and I just got changed. But why I'm still a pony is beyond me. When you mix taint and FEV, you get a mix of either leftover genetic traits that used to be dormant, but come to life. Or you get a thing like me. An abomination. A god damn mutie. The Enclave Remnants found me and tried to melt me with one of their novasurges."

Bubblegum Grins lit a smoke for herself and watched the embers hover and hover till they fizzed into nothing. Examining the barrel of her Plasma Offender, which was so sleek and silver it looked like gun porn, she realized one of it's sisters almost ended her. One of her own weapons almost took her life away. How could she trust it if it was so evil. So lacking in good intent and direction.

How could Cherry have ever given her a chance.

A freak like her didn't deserve it.

"... When I dodged all their hits and used one of them as a shield, they realized how hard I was to kill. And even when Staff Sargent Summers shot me with his plasma pistol, my gut didn't hurt. I was spilling and melting all over where it hit. It hurt, but I... couldn't feel it too well. Everything was just empty and numb. It made me dangerous. I wasn't thinking when I slipped their sledge swings or hooked them in the temple. I was just a gun without it's safety. They liked that about me. So they all took me in and taught me what I know about the wastes. I uh... I was their cook, their interrogation specialist and- and their... sister. I- I was the only non-pegasus they had and they never yelled at me or called me a fucking mutie and now they're all gone. They're all gone and now I'm just a creep with no one to love me."

Silent reached toward her when she saw water fall down her cheeks. She hesitated when she started giggling in short, blaring bursts. Her hooves finally touched her cheeks when she realized all that laughing and grinning came with tears. When all Bubblegum could do was shutter and laugh the pain away, it meant she was scared.

Bubblegum was just scared.

Semper Fi

The first radio frequency they acquired was, oddly enough, an enclave station's. It barely had any signal strength under St. Michael's. When their party exited Saint Michael's, they were treated to the beautiful view of gloomy skies and a murky lake not meters away from the entrance. That very same lake had a thin layer of frost over the surface. Silent Hill shivered when spotting just how expansive the water really was. A soft tension took her knees and threatened to freeze her. All that water meant it must've had a deep, muddy volume. What could possibly be inside. The very concept of something crawling out on eldritch pseudopods and winding, slinking effluvium sent her trotting away. Even though she knew it wasn't possible, something was wrong with that lake. She just knew it.

Brown trotted to her right and kept pace. His steps were winding and jingled his coat pockets with bottlecaps and presumed trinkets. He started talking when he fixed his oval reading glasses.

"Miss Hill. You should really be listening to that radio station. We need to deal with this outstanding obstacle before it becomes even larger. I suggest you locate the enclave station with the strongest signal. It's likely we'll find it by proximity and have a better chance of not being blown to smithereens."

Silent, still unsure of his motives, trotted slower and made sure her friends could follow. A lone, wandering question made her head swell. It had to be answered. Doctor Brown needed to confirm her hypothesis.

"You saved my life. After learning about my past, you're still here. Why? You could walk away and never be in danger again. But you're not at home. Or off to live in Las Pegasus. You're right here trotting by my side like we've served for years. Why do you care about me?"

Hot Brown slid his glasses up.

"Damn it First Airmare, I'm a doctor, not a mercenary. It's my duty to help the disenfranchised. And you are disenfranchised. You are the target of witch-hunting, angry cowboys with advanced T-42D power armor. If that's supposed to be the herd I follow, I'd be a sorry excuse for a doctor, now wouldn't I?"

Doctor Brown flicked his tail up and glanced sharply over his shoulder.

"I care about you because I am not just a doctor. I'm the doctor." Brown concluded, only to hold a hoof up to signal 'stop.'

They were still travelling on the road when coming onto an intersection between a big road and their current road. A dented, painfully bent sign said 'ES-51' just before it started, right where a carriage or hover vehicle might enter. He spent an unbearable amount of time shuffling through his bag and staring at the highway with a folding telescope. An impatient snort started in Silent's snout, her wings ruffling and shifting about in restless twitches. Just as she furrowed her brows and moved her lips, Doctor Brown handled a baseball-shaped object out his pack. It had no grip and consisted of a smooth, shining material she could only assume to be aluminum. It came with a pin, which he yanked out with his teeth and pitched onto the road not taken.

Before she knew it, Silent Hill shielded herself from the explosion.

The entire freeway lit up and washed in flame. It's galloping blaze stretched on as far as the eye could see, leading to sharp, stabbing ripples against her gut. She couldn't process the amount of sickly, corrosive pain pumping into her stomach. Her ears would've bled, if Doctor Brown hadn't cast a bubble of silence over her. Unfortunately, he wasn't so lucky and suffered bleeding out every orifice. And despite the horror on his friend's gaping lips, he returned a warm smile and doubled over, vomiting blood against the pavement. Silent Hill scrambled toward him and knelt over her friend, injecting him with two stimpaks and a buffout.

"Brown?! Brown, you idiot! You should've brought us away o-or put a shield over yourself!"

"Non...sense, Senior Airmare Hill. You see these mines were planted. They were set just for us, you winged hooligan- I-I deduced this sighting a cluster of out-of-place feathers down the freeway- and- hurk! I-I'd have shielded myself, but they're about to swoop down a-any minute now!" He raced, hacking red into his hooves.

Swoop... down?

Her round, circle eyes felt ready to burst out their sockets. Above them, a circle of gryphons hovered just in-place to snipe or carpet bomb them. A series of round, hoof-sized objects fell from their talons. It didn't take a genius to know what they were planning. Silent picked her comrade off the pavement and onto her back. She sped off with Bubblegum, who readied their plasma offender mid-gallop, spotting a cluster of makeshift shacks. It was do or die. Bubblegum grins did her best to slip the laser fire raining down on them. Countless streaks of red and blue magic charred the snow around them. Tiny clouds of ashen white and grey blanketed their trail. It was then that Bubblegum crashed into the nearest shack, ripping the door off it's hinges. Inside was a ham radio, a table for that radio, a terminal for the table and steel lockers spread over each wall.

Doctor Brown watched the door as he slipped off his friend and readied another grenade.

"They'll bomb this place to the ground, believe me, Ms. Grins!" He warned, glancing back in quick flashes.

"That's what I'm counting on~" She answered, bobbing her head rhythmically and humming Yankee Pony to herself.

In one of many lockers was a plasma rifle, which handled smoothly in the teeth of an old enclave operative. A nice, cheery grin slipped out her lips. Before Silent knew it, a standard issue ID-107 rifle was between her teeth. One, hopeful glance slipped toward her grinning confidante. They shared a moment of unbroken eye-contact before the shed fell to scrap. The gryphons hovered lower when they couldn't see any movement beneath the rubble. Four of six stayed about two meters above ground. When two of their own landed, the remaining Talons kept their trigger... talons ready.

"Bomb it! We can't be too sure this time. Grins is not easy to put down. Hill is weak but she's not a regular pegasus. When you see either of those bitches, shoot!" Barked their leader, who wore little more than standard issue Talons Combat Armor and a pair of shades.

Their eyes were a harsh, sun-bright orange and went well with gold-tipped feathers atop her head. It contrasted wildly from her normally white, brown and grey-red plumage. The reddish hues were around the base of her neck. It culminated in a single, gold chain running down her chest piece. And on her left ear lay a single, sparkling diamond earring.

"Daniela! We ran out of pineapples...!" One of the recruits called, not even noticing the rubble as it shifted.

"You dumbass! Watch the rubble-!"

Doctor Brown expanded his spacial anomaly bubble and unleashed a shockwave of yellow, pink-striped

mana. It tossed the scouts skyward and suspended them someplace anypony would regret. Silent Hill took aim with her MK II ID-107 plasma rifle. Her vision grew a soft grey and reality itself seemed to halt time down to milliseconds between milliseconds. Even random particles of snow fell around her in indescribable vividness. Every twitch and twist of the gryphon in front of her spoke words a split-second expression never could. She aimed for his beak and pulled the trigger. It cooked his feathers black, roasting the place his cranium used to be. Instead, supercharged, lime-green plasma melted a hole through his head.

Silent Hill zipped to her left and trotted right up to her next target, firing point blank into his throat. A mess of fresh, iron-drowned flavors spurted against her muzzle. A warning in bold, red text appeared over her HUD. It read 'Action points low', referring to a sizable, yet draining bar at the bottom right of her vision. For one last shot, she downed one of the airborne Talons. Whoever that mark was, her left wing oozed open, eaten by caustic goop. B.A.T.S deactivated and left Daniela stunned, completely in awe of what short work they made of three Talons.

"Talons! Fall back!"

"What about Rodney?!"

"I said fall back!" Barked Daniela, charging off herself before all her squadmates.

It was no contest. Eat or be eaten. Stop and die. That much ran through the Talons' warped psyche. Because they left their squadmate to die. It birthed a groaning, melting mess of a femboy begging them to just put him out of his misery. His eyes had untapped, wine red coloration to them. As if he hadn't lived at all and was ripped straight from the womb. Bubblegum Grins stepped right over him and smiled brightly when his face became a gaping pit of melting sinews and pink, chunky lipid clusters. Her bright and sunny smile faded as Doctor Brown muffled his lips in disgust. He stumbled elsewhere and spat out lingering gore scents.

Shrugging it off, she turned to face Silent Hill, who fell on her ass from collective exhaustion.

Bubblegum took a look at the mare's WristBelle, finding her clock.

"Well, it's half past twelve. Who's up for lunch?"

Evolution

A mellow undertone of static buzzed below the radio station. It was dark out with nothing more than white snow fluttering onto the wastes. Silent Hill brushed her hooves along the ashen flakes, only to jump when she finally heard a voice on the other line.

'Hello. This is Purple Heart; I'm retired and in a shitload of trouble. Me and my bunker mates have been holding our ground for days. Those New Celestia Republic assholes are waiting for the moment we let our guard down. Send help because we need it. If you're hearing this, you've got one of out WristBelles. And that means you know what's at stake. God Bless the Celestial States of Equestria. This message repeats.'

Doctor Brown swallowed a lump in his scrawny throat. When his friend decided to listen to it again, he nervously spat out 'must you really...?' His sudden enthusiasm ripped a chuckle out her lips. The only thing she asked in response was 'what..?' A moment of absolute hesitation pursed his lips and forced Doctor Brown to find their campfire. He gazed into it, admiring the vastness of the flames, as they were enough to roast anypony alive and nurture itself with the anger of their victim's. When his gruff, but understanding companion held his shoulder with her hoof, the answer melted away from him, leaving his shoulders tense.

"When you listen to it that way... it sounds like they're trapped doing the same thing over and over. Doesn't that disturb you, Senior Airmare Hill? For me, personally, it reminds me of the Boss Tin commonwealth. When I lived there, you'd hear all sorts of repeating radio messages. Some of them were fake distress signals, to lure in cryostable dwellers. There was this one chap from a cryostable that got them back, though. He had a stable suit and everything."

The sullen homesickness made Silent Hill feel... odd. It wasn’t as pronounced before, but she didn't feel at home either. Home was no wasteland, just like no wasteland was ever truly home. Home was a place that held somepony in it's arms and sang them to sleep. It was nothing like Mini Soda or the badlands in their entirety. Her tired, heavy eyes stuck against the campfire across her. It's blinding orange stung her cloudless, jade pupils. When somepony pink and happy grinned her way, she chuckled anxiously.

Bubblegum Grins was smacking her lips and licking them dry. No remains of hot sauce. A tiny, compact 'chomp' filled their ears with pleasant noise. Doctor Brown was hungry. But he wasn't that hungry. The colt stared wordlessly at his savage companion, intrigued and, frankly, disgusted. Her culinary prowess was nothing short of interesting and admirable. He could smell the hot sauce topped with tangy mustard and bits of finely minced mudonion. Mudonion was, for the most part, radioactive and mutated onion. Most came the size of somepony's hoof and could feed them a whole day. If, that is, they survived the powerful aroma. And the ticks on the geiger counter. Doctor Brown covered his lips when Bubblegum took another bite of her... special hot wings. Gryphon hot wings.

"Miss... Grins. How can you stomach such harmful biomaterial. You could replicate the wrong protein or even gain a surplus of cerebral deficiencies. And isn't your stomach made for digesting... herbivorous materials?" He inquired, plugging his nose when she stuck her food closer.

Bubblegum displayed her long, blue-white tongue. It came with her wide, crooked grin as it hung over her lips and ended at her knees. It coiled and raised till sticking against Brown's cheeks. He shivered and pushed it off, sticky with itchy, burning skin. He muffled his lips so he couldn't cough on her muzzle.

"You wanna know why I eat gryphons...? And ponies and every other animal in this god damn wasteland? Because it sure ain't good for me, but food tastes better when it's kicking and screaming~"

Silent Hill stepped between them, making sure the two stayed out of contact range. Her tone was militant and neutral, as always, only it seemed she'd taken to drinking a flask of Applejack Daniels. The golden liqueur left a dark streak of color down her chin.

"Alright, you two; you can breed later. Right now we need to rest and find Purple Heart. It sounds like he might be still alive. Apfel wants the enclave dead, remnants or not. We can't let that happen. If there's enclave that's not commiting mass genocide, we need to get our beauty sleep. Because we're gonna get messy tomorrow."

They both deferred to their leader, who was soundest in terms of strategy and philosophy. It was just the remnants that worried Doctor Brown. They might have been in a classic underdog situation, but that didn't always make the underdog good. For all he knew, the Grand Pegasus Enclave might've setup an ambush. Old world ghosts struck his mind as he remembered a very old proverb from ancient history.

'Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.'

When they left off at such an inspiring note, Silent and Brown couldn't help but sleep giddy and hopeful. They were heroes, in ways they themselves could never know. They were both avatars of causes that fought for a better Equestria. It was easy to deny that. It was easy to be cynical and say deep down, they had selfish reasons. But Bubblegum, unable to sleep and slipping out their shared tent, could never do the same. Some ponies were born to watch the world burn. And others were born to sweep up the ashes and tend the land. A pleasant swarm of butterflies infected her system. Even though she could never feel it, even though it would never fix the callouses tattooed into her broken, little muscle, it gave her purpose. Deep down, beneath all that glass and barbed wire, lay somepony who still wanted to help.

Bubblegum stared straight ahead, finding the campfire. It's form became cooling, fading embers breathing their last bit of life away. Into each other, they breathed. They breathed and suffered till the end with someone else, of kin and blood. Those two ponies sleeping behind her... had a dream to follow. Once upon a time, Equestria was a paradise for dreamers. It was a paradise for people just like her friends.

If it made them happy, happy enough to comfort a monster like herself, to not be the type of pony to shoot first and ask questions later, what right did she have to let them lose that happiness. When she finally glanced up from the dying fire, she caught a glimpse of the moon. It'd been her first time. Her lips parted in both whimsy and dwarfing, cosmic awe. Beneath such a murky and ugly sky lay such a precious light. And nopony even had the chance to tell it how amazing it was.

Nopony but her would ever see it's clandestine charm ever again.

The moonlight baptized her and absolved her of her sins. The moon must've been Cherry ascending, her Cherry Night Sky lighting up the world like she promised so long ago. A stray sob struck her throat. Remembering her kiss, of roses and cigar buds, a tear slipped away and onto the snow beneath her hooves. Bubblegum Grins wiped her tear away and whispered words to the great beyond.

"If I could do it all over... and see you smile one more time at who I used to be, I'd set the world on fire and never look back. Hate me up there, where you belong. Hate me so when I come back, you can fall for me one more time."

The world grew blurry and bathed her cheeks clean.

She saw a shooting star streak the sky with pure, supernova white.

Begin Again

The sky took to a gloomy grey. It's clouds were parted in one part of the sky, and that was where the sun was. It left one patch of sunlight in it's nuclear winter wonderland. Silent Hill lay in bed with her legs tucked tightly against her. Bubblegum stayed behind and they let her die. She wanted to slit their throats open and hang their heads on a wall. She wouldn't lose anyone. She couldn't. Her men were her family. A tear slipped her eye as the remains of their fallen friend lay bandaged, by custom, and layered in honey. They'd preserve her at least... wasn't that one thing Silent Hill could remember her for. Her lifeless body, forever frozen in time?

Brown fixed his glasses and took off his disposable gloves, ignoring the faint scent of honey clinging to his hooves. To his very soul. He couldn't fathom how she survived even one minute of trading blows with that... creature. Grins was a real warrior. A real soldier. She died with her hooves up and she went down swinging, he told Senior Airmare Hill. If not to honor her body, they'd honor her memory as the best fighter they'd ever served with.

"Senior Airmare Hill... You'd be doing us all a favor if you came out and paid your respects to Grins. She'd want us to move on. And I don't mind if you wring my neck till it snaps. But this... is something we can't miss.  We can't forget to show her we miss her." He murmured, keeping his eyes anchored to the snow below.

Lightning struck and the sky scarred itself white. A storm of seemingly horrid whispers and raving, yet... soothing whispers assaulted their ears. The enclave pony fainted on the spot, her eyes going wide before staying frozen in place. From the ground burst forth a skeletal and decrepit foreleg. It sprang forth and dug out from the dry, infertile earth bloodied by its escape. It clawed its way out the womb of the world and trotted straight for the body Grins always dragged about. In one, precise motion, it brushed the corpse with it's forehooves. It gave life, collapsed into pieces and brought Buddy to life. Buddy gave a hearty, throaty chortle when he spotted Doctor Brown holding a grenade ready.

It stared back with one, rotten eye socket and an eye being eaten away by black maggots. A hollow whisper seeped out it's slit throat and into his ears.

"Would you raise a hoof at Death? Or Celestia? Or your own Father? I am here to part with my child."

"I-I don't know what you are. I have to raise my hoof at you...!"

Another hollow chortle. It made his knees weak and he felt strangled as his breath grew heavy with coldness.

"And with strange aeons, you may find that even death may die... Is that what you were figuring?" It hushed, grinning with many broken and jagged teeth.

It said no more and whispered sweet life into Bubblegum's lips. The mare held their mane down and licked around that strangely fresh necrotic maw. The being let loose a long, drawn breath and joined her. They swapped spit and honey for ages before it finally pulled away and trailed a hoof down her lips. All she did was grin her way into bedroom eyes.

"Sweet child of mine... The Void is full for now, thanks to the fields of viscera you've tended to time and time again. But you have to stay here. Some of daddy's children are aching to come home. Be careful. But don't be afraid to visit me. Hear me whisper your name. It is yours." He hushed, breathing into her ear and tickling the mare.

A soft, permanent layer of frost and... blush took to her skin. Lilith turned into a creature with two legs and two arms, finally fixing her itch for mobility in combat situations. Her skin was a pale peachy color. Not only that, but her head grew ram horns and her ribs flayed open to resemble teeth. The cutiemark on her flank, now on her upper back, became an elaborately decorated skull with a candied, almost flamboyant aesthetic to it. Bubblegum nuzzled her 'father' and waved goodbye with an innocent 'goodbye, daddy...!' as he was struck with lightning and turned to ash.

Bubblegum grins saw her companions all unconscious and laid out around camp. At first, she thought they were dead. But further inspection revealed they'd fainted. She shrugged and gathered their sleeping forms into one, convenient tent. In her spare time, Bubblegum repeated her new name over and over, turning about the pages in her erotic novel.

"Lilith. Lilith. Lilith. Lilith. Wow, that name really suits me. I wonder why daddy wanted me to have this one, though." Hushed Lilith Grins, switching on Silent's WristBelle radio.

She tuned into something that haunted her down to the core.

A song she caught mid-ending flooded her with memories of a time she was herself. Long-gone nights of drunken sex, cultists and bar fights swarmed her mind with mental buckshot, leaving holes and corrupting memories she should've had.

'Alone and asunder,

atone and remember,

the light you once brought

to this place.

This place, this place so cold,

dull and dull are the days that go

beside, beside these tired eyes

and so, I will slumber

till you are here

till you can learn

to come home.'

Her daze shattered completely when she heard a voice on the radio. It had an informative quality to it. Much like some radio broadcast of the black and white days, anypony listening would imagine it was pre-recorded hundreds of years in advance. But, surprisingly, it wasn't. Lilith heard a stallion's voice. It had a smoky, low baritone that made her cover her rising limbs. Hn, she noted fondly, wondering why there were two of them between her legs.

'Hello Equestria. You're listening to Grand Pegasus Radio. This is your host, Sham Bursting Cooper. It's come to my attention that a so-called trio of outlaws is roaming the wastes of Mini Soda. But from what my sources say, this isn't entirely true. Not only were they seen battling Talons in the old Downtown Sauk Lake area, but one of the three helped a former enclave pegasus get rid of four Clonelestias in a strategically sound outpost down near Jail Seed. Now that's impressive. Keep your eye out for a mare with pink hair and a pegasus with bandages on. Make sure to thank them for rescuing your post, Beta Company.'

That's it. That was their way to the other remnants.

Lilith closed her hentai novel and kept it safely in her bag, making sure to clip together the pages about sacrificial rites and worshiping an ancient god. Nobody could ever take her book away. They didn't know how to handle it. She felt woozy, however. Her body grumbled and ached for two things:

food... and sex.

Lots and lots of sex.

Ave, True To Sweetie.

Silent Hill stared straight ahead and ignored the strange scene behind her. For whatever reason, the new enclave pegasus was carrying Lilith on her back. She stayed permanently flustered as she was hugged from behind rather than ridden properly. They had no idea how hands felt like. Or just how smooth human skin could be on rough, grizzled coat. Her grey-blue eyes slid to the side as she looked in Lilith's general direction. For etiquette and respect.

"So... you're a human now? Why human and not still a pony. I- I don't understand that much." The mare inquired, keeping her eyes away from that one, angular grin.

"I guess this is what I used to be. But I don't know for sure. I'm just positive that I need sex and food. A lot of it, honestly." Lilith sighed, laying limply against her mount and resting her long and heavy lashes.

Was it a human thing. Silent and Brown would never know. They arrived at some, rather pleasant settlement in the wastes. A sign before the entrance and drawbridge said 'welcome to Sauk Conserva Pak.' Why the town had such a strange name, neither of them knew. But Doctor Brown noted the lack of letters. He'd keep a bat between his teeth as the bridge lowered. Strangely enough, nopony raised rifles at them. Most of the town was... filled with children, mutants and abominations. It was seriously a mixture of each one in a garb of football armor, power armor scraps and improvised skirts. They all shared a dark edom color scheme when it came to their clothing, which was either the aforementioned, tasset skirts, or in a few of their cases, feathered helmets and cloaks. It was a systematic cluster of rebuilt homes and construction. Lilith knew exactly who they were. And they knew who she was, too.

One of the veteran legionarries met them head-on, greeting them with a machete held at the ready.

"State your business, assassins." He started, keeping the blade pointed tip-first.

Lilith answered with a shrug and did just that, crossing her arms when finished. The girl's tone was frank and near-monotone, either due to her boredom or an unforseen shift in chemical wellness. The prime's being hidden by a baseball helm and shades, while her's focused and defocused.

"We've come to get some armor and maybe a gladius or two. And do you know where we can find a good brothel. Because we sure as hell need one."

He took a moment to ponder just how blunt and simplistic their answer was. For one, he noted with a hoof on his chin, they were mostly profligates. Two, they had one of those enclave bastards tagging along. He, a stallion a head taller than most ponies, nodded in understanding. He had one condition, he stated, sheathing his machete gladius.

"Very well, assassin. You can make use of our camp... as long as you promise to bring us NCR heads and slaves. If you find a raider, make sure they're at least strong. And if you find civilians, bring them in good condition. Understood, amicus?" He explained, though losing half the party in translation.

Of course, they all nodded, Lilith more than anyone. No warning shots or insults were hurled toward them. They just sort of passed into the encampment and took note of the atrocious events transpiring all around. Slaves in rags were all being used for pack mules and earthly pleasures, evidenced by the curses and pained, little noises coming from some tents. Other uses for slaves involved setting up crosses for crucifixion and even beatings. A group of legionaries were scuffing about in a chainlink arena, it having four bases in the shape of a diamond. Two inside were landing big, crashing hits on each other that stumbled both the victim and the aggressor. Power punches, Lilith noted, remembering fondly her training in the legion. That happened after the separation. Everything considered, it was much more... comfy than it should have been. Especially since the slaves, mares and stallions alike, were being stricken so heavily in the Sauk Conserva Pak encampment. Doctor Brown tapped their current leader with his muzzle.

"Must we really be here. This place... is barbaric. Wrong. We can't stay here much longer, can we? I-I don't approve of this at all. All these people are being subjugated. They're being beaten because their masters say so. Is this not the antithesis of the Enclave's principles?"

He was right. It was. But she could never tell why she fit in so well. Lilith could never tell him why they called her 'amicus', or what 'amicus' even meant. They would be in the dark for as long as she could keep them. Silent Hill kept her plasma offender at the ready, between her teeth and fully-loaded with overcharged microfusion cells. She watched as the rest of the party, besides Lilith, armed and followed behind her. For some reason, their war chief stopped by... public restrooms?

"Uh, why are we stopping here...?" Inquired Silent, muffled by her bite handle, but still intelligible.

"Well, this is where they stash their gear. All I gotta do is trade some denarius for a piece of armor. It's the only thing I can wear that doesn't need fitting. Well, much fitting. Now wait here."

Some immeasurable amount of time passed. Why iimmeasurably? Because Silent Hill and her party were too busy learning the layout of the camp. It had to be destroyed, they all agreed. At least half of it had to burn, Doctor Brown reasoned, speaking in low and cautious murmurs. The slaves had to be emancipated. Just then, their war chief returned and... it surprised them how fitting Legion dress was.

Her outfit was nearly identical to recruit armor, only it boasted historically accurate, studded leather tassets and long, pink athlete socks. The addition of slightly thicker, custom padding only added to her brawler aesthetic. Silent Hill bit her lip and looked elsewhere, hoping the wetness in her honeypot would pass. It was unfortunate, being so excited by nonsensical things. Fashion, power and sin. Her ears drooped as Lilith asked her what was wrong. If she could help in any way.

"N-nothing. We should probably find that brothels, though. I'm getting tired o-of waiting. And I'm sure the rest of us agree." She scrambled, even starting off herself toward their last exit.

Well, Brown and their new enclave friend nodded in agreement. Yeah. It was time to go. Enough of that wasteland glory shit. Who wanted to fight all the time and cross paths with death every day of their lives. Couldn't they just have one day to relax and quit worrying about some dead faction, or the horrific black magic that threatened to swallow Mini Soda whole. Did they ever have to me to have sex at all? Doctor Brown remembered. He remembered the answer being 'hello no.' By unanimous decision, they asked the earlier prime for directions to the nearest brothel.

And... to their surprise, he just answered

"Where do you think. Right here. Didn't you notice the abundance of mares and men in skirts. These aren't toga. These are real skirts. This is an R&R encampment. For fetishistic relief. The slaves are merely customers that are paid to be beaten and have a safeword in place. Now get out of my way. I have to watch for raiders and NCR." He stated, never saying they didn't use slaves, but also reminding them that Sweetie's Legion... was not monstrous when it could help itself.

Lilith could only hope they had some spare schoolgirl costumes laying about...

Et Tu, Brutus?

"Sicut Frui, abicus." Called the stallion from the entrance, waving once and keeping his machete out.

A wild wasteland, it was. Silent Hill had first pick. But honestly, she'd pass on any of that non-connective sex. Why have sex with a stranger when she could get stretched by Huge Oh. The mare wouldn't mind Doctor Brown or even Lilith if they wanted. Deep down, she just knew that ponies... were trouble. And that doing more than sex with them was begging for disaster. Silent was one of those mares that wanted to be told what to do, but not by an equal or someone who put her on a pedestal, no, somepony above her. That was why she would never pick any of her friends. Friends were all equals.

Doctor Brown sipped on imported Cider Cola, bored and lazy with a hoof under his chin. He leaned forward and waited till it was his turn to pick the 'illustrious mate' he was promised by Sweetie's Legion. Because why not pick from a dozen mares of varying, artificial happiness and looseness.

"Do you not like what you see, Mr. Brown?" Asked their taskmaster, who guided them through the selection process, sorting it out in personalities, sexual interests and rates.

"It's not that, Servilibus Chokehold, I'm just not... one for mares. Don't you have any men. Some real, masculine men that can hold me down and make me sore?" He sighed, not ashamed but bored out of his brilliant mind.

Chokehold felt his lips twist into a smile. So it shall be, he stated, calling for someone called 'Brutus.' And down the stairs came a bulky fellow full of heavy, swollen muscle. He was two feet taller than everyone around and wore nothing but a tasset, bracers and a brass mosaic helm. The way his chest puffed out frankly terrified Doctor Brown. It shook him down to the core. He wobbled in his seat as his sheathe grew oiled with need. Brown gulped as he paid his thirty denari and went wide-eyed as he was carried away.

For Silent Hill, she reckoned, it would be no one. Fuck getting pounded or rubbed by some stranger. She'd wait in the lobby and fancy herself with some low-volume Grand Pegasus Radio. It'd stay right by her ears and lay beneath the constant chattering of lonely patrons. She had someone else waiting at home for her. A big mutated dog with a big mutated knot left her empty. And she didn't like it, but she wanted more of him.

"And for the lady Miss Featherscribe?" Asked Servilibus Chokehold, who waited with both forelegs crossed.

"O-oh well, I'm not much for brothels. I'll just wait here with Senior Airmare Hill. No need to bother a mare without denari, right?" She replied somewhat anxiously, understanding she was one mare in a base of a few dozen or so male legionares.

Oh boy, the servilibus sighed beneath his breath. A human. Not just any human, but a machine one too. He'd never seen it in combination before, but apparently he had to give his girls to one. Chokehold let her pick from the vanilla roster. But when Lilith asked for his 'specials'' he couldn't help but smile. Ah yes. Specials were specials. And there was no denying that Lilith, someone he'd heard about when she was Bubblegum Grins, had special needs. Servilibus Chokehold offered another row of extras, presenting them all with great pride.

"Here you will see... a rare and endangered Giant Radbit, our very own Landwalking Sea Pony, the great and powerful Hissy, the last remaining Pure Centaur in Equestria and even... an elusive, near-extinct winterfang."

Eyeing down her choices made her rethink her life. Even if it was a mutie thing, she couldn't deny that somepony was calling her a zoophile sooner or later. The giant radbit, which was a largely intact lagomorphic creature with glowing green eyes and a white coat, was missing skin around it's jaws. The exposed bone went down it's eyebrow and ended just behind it's nose. His nose was cherry red and his stature was tall, almost non-proportional to his stature. Despite being a giant radbit, he was, at most, four and a half feet in height.

His Landwalking seapony seemed more like a mare exposed to the FEV and taint, resembling a seapony adult with spindly, well-toned arms for crawling about. It's tail ended normally and the sickly condition of it's smooth, leathery carapace spared very few scales. Though it didn't seem to need gills anymore, it still had them. Surprisingly, the seapony also owned a full head of sickly, kelp-colored hair. Despite all it's surprisingly equine physiology and accurate seapony look... there was still one problem. It lacked eyes and insteas had a large strip of flesh across the eye sockets. And the teeth were... less than square and friendly.

The Great and Powerful Hissy was a serpentine being with a purple wizard's cap on. Her scales were a washed cyan and she boasted long eyelashes, curly, brown hair and a needle-thin tongue flickering back and forth. Between her cyan scales, Hissy carried a diomandback pattern and a surprisingly functional slit. The slit was proven to be mammalian, as she had a clit and everything. Lilith began to wonder if something... involving gene splicing factored into his special escorts. Normally, reptilians had cloacas.

No words were needed for the pure centaur. She was a centaur with a girly upperbody, a blush to die for and impatient, itchy hooves. Their lower mass wasn't of a godolphin arabian breed, she noticed. It was a mustang bottom, lean and uniform for galloping efficiency. All in all, her strawberry, semi-curled hair tugged at her loins. But that was how human she looked. How innocent her eyes were staring up and down her newest customer.

And then came the winterfang: the ice-breathing, magical wolves of Northern Macintosh Hills. They were sized just under the average pony. That wolf in particular carried a scar across it's muzzle. A deep, fur-devoid 'x' lay carved across the bridge of it's snout. She couldn't fathom how they managed to bring it in. How it was subdued. The winterfang alpha, because only alphas could growl with such intensity, seemed to be perfectly groomed. Maybe nopony else had found the courage to take it down and make it their's. A wide, crooked grin crept over Lilith's lips. She earned a growl and a constant, low snarl from her second choice.

"... I'm taking the bunny first. You better let me reserve the winterfang for after I'm done. I want her all nice and clean just for me."

Servilibus Chokehold sealed the deal by accepting her two hundred and fifty five denari. A deal was a deal. He let her escort the radbit to their desired room. His steps were ghostly for a creature his size. And though he didn't seem pleased at the idea of being used, he did sigh and talk to her with surprising articulation. Not only that but his voice was... surprisingly adult and male.

"So you're gonna make me lick your clit or something, right. Or ride me till you're done a thousand hours later?" It asked, smoking a very fine cigarette and glancing back between little swaggers.

"... Hn, that voice does not go with that body. That's okay, though. You're hot enough like you are. Having that low baritone is just a nice little bonus~ Well, no. I'm gonna take you in everywhere and hold your ears while I do it. You ever had a girl with two dicks before?"

His slow, casual walk crawled to a complete stop. Lilith's radbit dropped his cigarette and had to retrieve it with wobbly, stubby fingers. A rush of heat punctured his ass and left him tingling all over. That human thing wanted inside him. The thought of being her bottom forced his eyes away. He wanted it. His cheeks were ablaze with vivid reds. Before he knew it, he was pressed against the wall and fingered. It was his room. Short, telling grunts erupted out his incisors. His eyes shut  and his shoulders tensed, jamming the key in and forcing the door open.

Doctor Brown stared up at the stallion twice his size and twice his mass. Brutus was the type of colt others stayed away from. It was clear he was just as excited as Brown. They were both growing. They were both swelling and throbbing from how good it felt to feel another colt brush against them. Rough, powerful hooves gripped his hindlegs and lifted them straight. Brown covered his eyes. He started trembling when one, massive tip entered his rear. The urge to cross his legs forced them together at the knees. Doctor Brown felt his insides ripping apart. His ass was being oiled by another colt's precum. Warm, tingling prods struck his nerves apart, leaving him rigid and blank-minded. All he could do was groan and curse. Brutus was already massaging him where it hurt. He tried begging him to go faster, but he was muffled by his hooves. Hot, squishing muscle struck his prostate apart, stretching and kissing it in all the right spots. He yelped when Brutus flipped him over and enjoyed him like a mare.

"O-ohhhhfuck... fucking Hel, I can't take it-!" He groaned, pressing his muzzle into the mattress.

Brown could feel thick, icky discharge coating his insides. Half of it was his own, blaring arousal, while the rest of it was how hot it was for Brutus to use his client till finish. His lumbering, powerful mate struck him harder and harder, spearing deep enough to rock his curves every which way. The doctor bit his lip and forced his throat against himself. His rectum grew slick and tender. Brutus was already pounding him to the ring. Brown blew his load and grit his teeth. Brutus continued to grind inside his prostate, kissing and oiling him where it hurt.

He couldn't even breathe... His partner was too wide and dense. It stretched him wide open at the ephemeral ring and forced his ass up. Brutus locked him in-place, pinning his shoulders against the bed. Doctor Brown took to squeaking and squealing when he felt the full blunt of hot, sticky cock jamming into his gut. He gripped the sheets and bit them between grating, angry teeth. He worked into a wide-eyed scream. Brutus had crammed his ring inside and held him down to cum. Load after load of colt cream exploded inside of him. There was so much, it leaked out his pucker and drenched the sheets. He lay there shaking and bucking, furrowing his brows at how dense Brutus' prick stayed.

"You're mine for an hour. You better lick me clean." Murmured Brutus, forcing him into a sit and shoving his length in.

"M-mmmhhm-!" His client moaned, wriggling around and fighting for good footing.

"Take it." The stallion ordered, forcing him into a deepthroat.

Doctor Brown was enjoying his domination. His training toward being a good little slut just for Brutus. A low, comely dip took his brow. Doctor Brown could only slurp his cock dry and hope he'd give his ass one more try. It was swollen just behind his prostate. It was pulsing and itching from how much he needed it. Brutus climbed to his hooves and fucked his face on the edge of the bed. Yank after yank of Brown's hair forced them balls-deep. Another, angry buck filled his gullet. Brutus had pulled him down and forced his snout against their mound, squirting was after wad out his slender, mare-like snout. He couldn't even rest. Brutus got behind him, mounted Brown and started pounding him to the bottom. Brown's lips twisted with his features. The only thing he wanted to do was fall asleep.

"Nn-mmhfuckme... I-I can't.... A-aaaggh no- a-aaaha-!" He grunted, shutting his eyes and emptying his sack all over his chin.

Beluae Monstrum

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Hushed his client, kissing his pucker with warm, leaking prick.

The tip was semi-spherical. It made him lose well-needed tightness when she handled his hips and turned him into a rocking fleshlight. Every drop of precum oiled him perfectly, forcing coats of slime to push out and slide between them. He bit his lip and answered in short, choppy groans. Lilith stuffed him deeper the longer he took. It was only six inches in and he could feel his insides sucking away at her. Warm, scratchy hands held his cheeks and held him still, burning him everywhere with prickling arousal.

"M-my name's Butterfly- Butterfly Knife...!" The radbit grunted, gripping whatever he could.

A hot, shaking massage took his cavern. He tried breathing but it only made him more sensitive. Butterfly could feel it sticking to the end of his prostate. A dense, constant clapping struck him from behind and he curled into himself face-down against the sheets. When Lilith pulled his tail, she held his thin, boyish hips with her other hand. It drove him crazy. Being pounded nice and slow drenched his mate in loose, flowing lubricant. The weight of her flared hips smacked into him with each, constant prick of his inexperienced body. And it stuffed him down to the base, strangling him with moans and growling throat noise.

"U-uuhhfuck... What the fuck are you doing to me..."

An icky, slopping clap stole his breath away. He stopped moaning when she pelted him with thrusts that struck him balls-deep without end. Lilith ground along his insides and kissed him deep within. Some, crooked grin crept over her lips. The radbit clenched around her when he came. Lilith was his first futa ever. Butterfly glanced up in shame. His ass was lifted and squished apart by her fat, bulging cock. It was the thickest he'd ever felt.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm making you cum. By the end of the hour, I'll be the best you ever had." Lilith hushed, leaning into him and holding onto the bedframe.

"Sh-shit... You're gonna do this the wh-whole hour...?" He groaned, biting the sheets and twitching uncontrollably in his left hindleg.

"You're shaking~ Why~?"

Another, big clap struck him from behind. His nose was buried in the sheets and no matter how much he wanted, he couldn't ignore her heavy ministrations. A girl with a cock was actually riding him like a wild animal. Butterfly Knife started panting and huffing, staring back at the demon filling him with lust. How could she. He wasn't even into mares. Into females. He was into men. Wave after wave of slick and pre leaked down his rectum. For the first time ever, he tensed up and shut his eyes.

A surge of hot, sticky cum streaked his stomach. He rubbed himself off everytime Lilith rocked him back and forth. He could barely think, much less count how many times she made him squirt. It seemed she was made to break in anyone she wanted. To make them addicted to the simple joy of being stretched wide open. Lilith Grins had withdrawn her juice-slick member, only to come over and kneel by his face. She wiped her musky, well-oiled prick on the bedsheets and teased him with the clean one. The crown was beading with cream. Lilith took him by the ears and told him to 'lick.'

What else could he do. He took a few, tiny sniffs of her drooling cock. It smelled vaguely mushroom-like with a slight spice to it. The scent made his mouth water, even if he looked away and gave her ginger, tiny flicks. Butterfly didn't like it. She was too gentle at first. Too firm when he was close. And then, her attitude toward sex. Lilith was the one pleasing him. He was the one getting worked for all he had.

"Oh? Don't be shy... I know what you want. You want me to take control of you, right?" Lilith cooed, kissing his lips with one, spit-lathered crown.

He seemed to growl at her. The radbit didn't seem to want her in his mouth. Lilith cocked her head and gave him her best, happy little grin.

"You do it before I cut your stomach open and fuck it with salt."

He shut his eyes and took as much as he could without gagging. It couldn't pass four to five inches without forcing tears out the edge of his eyes. Though he hated her for scaring him, he was still hard as ever. His prick was still straight up and ready for whatever Lilith wanted. Butterfly tried to silence himself as soft, sticky noises filled his throat. Redness burned his cheeks and ass away, even coloring his thighs red as she claimed him in every hole. His ass hadn't been filled with her jizz but she would. Deeper than he ever imagined, her girlcock bent into his throat and gagged him every inch of the way. The inescapable musk and flavor of meat, almost like horse haunch, filled him with the urge to suck her off.

"M-mmmfhkyhmmm..." He cursed, muffled by her wide and bludgeoning limb.

His eyes went wide with panic. He struggled to come off, away from her puffy pubic mound. But he couldn't. A rope of cold, chilling seed painted his throat white. Lilith pulled away before sticking it just inside the entrance of his throat, grinning a wolfish grin. And his face went sour when she blew her load and watched his nose burst with white.

He coughed away at how viscous it all was. How hard it was to blow it out his nose and wipe it off. He protested while mounted for the second time, gritting his teeth and fighting moans back when he could. But most of his speech was dotted in curses and grunts.

"Wh-why the fuck- a-aaahha- did you do that- n-nmmh~! You asshole...!"

She closed her eyes and used his hips to jackhammer him from behind. Butterfly started bucking in his legs. A constant swarm of claps and thumps screwed him tighter and tighter. He grew so tight that his eyes were glued to the ceiling and his tongue, lazy over his lips. Lilith took to biting her own lip and thumping into him with her pulsing member. Her thickness throbbed till her swollen, monstrous bottom vein shot it all inside him, firing load after load against his supple lining.

"N-nnnyeah.... Your ass is amazing. I'm gonna buy you permanently." Lilith murmured, pinning him under her and laying on top of him.

"Y-you wouldn't...!" He huffed, terrified for his life.

"You're the best I ever had~ You were made for me, Butterfly- You were made to be mine. Its okay if you don't like me now... Nnnh~ I'll make you crave me."

He melted when she locked lips with him. He was already drooling from how good it felt. Her radbit tensed when she shot another load and made him cum with her.  The last thing he heard was how she'd train him. How she'd program him to love her.

"When you hear me... you'll crave my voice. When you feel my touch, you'll feel empty without me~ I will teach you how to crave me..."

He let her kiss him. And the world grew black.

Meum Fieret

Well now, she teased her two, newest party members. They were enjoying their stay, weren't they. A nameless winterfang and Butterfly Knife were glancing away from their new owner. It felt odd to not be a slave to a collar, but mostly a slave to twisted affection. To be slaves in a kinky sense rather than a horrible one. Miss Lilith did not beat them. And she certainly did not treat them like lower lifeforms. The only thing she did do was get hot and bothered and take it out on them. And it was never an unpleasant experience. Winterfang hated that about it. She never made anything hurt too much. It was all... affectionate. Just thinking about it sickened her, encapsulating her already chipping mind in confusion and strife. They wandered the expanse of the wastes with their new owner, who very much resembled an actual romane.

Silent Hill trotted about in front, watching for any sign of the old bunker. And when she did, through that strangely dull hatch on the ground, which was just barely visible due to snow, they entered. It was agreed that Silent Hill would be doing work there. Frankly, it alarmed Brown and Lilith. The studious one replied first.

"Senior Airmare Hill... Why are you staying here instead of coming out and helping us with the wasteland? We'll be arriving at the Twin Cities soon enough." He tried to reason, only to see her shake her head.

"That's true. But I'll be recognized there. Too recognized. I'll be here because I still need to study and research feral animal behaviour. Remember the whole reason I started this was to break hostility between the wildlife and the wasteland. This laboratory has invaluable data in it. Behavioral patterns of mutated animals. How not to handle interaction. The list goes on and on. Stay with me if you'd like, Brown. But I need to do this, too."

It was hard for Doctor Brown to swallow. But it was true. She was better off researching. A global solution to hostility meant more than a thousand dead raiders. Bugbears were a wasteland hazard. Helldogs were the worst of it, though. If Silent Hill could somehow convert them... friendly again, Equestria would be a better place. His head hung low.

"You're doing a good thing, Miss Hill. I don't know what I'll do in the wasteland... but I know I'm here for you. And as a fellow scientist- I'll run this experiment with you."

Silent's heart skipped a beat. It was the first time, in any day of her wasteland life, she felt the urge to cry. There was something hallowing about his loyalty. About all the things he would do to care for somepony so insignificant as herself. The promise loosed her lips and kept her mouth wide open. She could only glance away and whisper 'thanks...' Something about Silent Hill and Doctor Brown opened Lilith's eyes. And she finally decided to do... what she was meant to do.

"You two make a good couple," Lilith chuckled, gently guiding her 'slaves' toward the laboratory.

Winterfang growled at first. But then, when she saw that look in her eyes, of compassion she'd never seen in any master, it turned to silence. They weren't actually being bought. They were being set free. Even though there was no way to activate her collar's explosives anymore, she didn't trust her till then. Neither of the two did. And that was why seeing her wave goodbye and say 'I'll be back in a few days'... felt wrong. Was it wrong that something in her looked empty.

"You don't have to go alone, you know." The winterfang choked out, letting her snout fall to the ground.

"I know. But you have to feel free. And this is my gift to you. You gave me something I needed and now, I giving you what you need. What you deserve. I wasn't lying when I said I'd make you two crave me. But I'm not doing it by force... not now, not ever."

Soon enough, Lilith, in armor that would only protect so much of her, walked out that door and left the bunker. A piece of the world left with her first goodbye. Doctor Brown and Silent Hill, Winterfang and Butterfly... they all tried to swallow the silence that followed.

Burn

A hero was only as good as his weapon, she heard a long, long time ago in a galaxy far away. What measure was a wastelander. An assassin. Or a human. What was the measure of her life in actions, in minutes, in cider cola, in hits of psycho? What did she mean. Her own two feet were walking the wastes and nopony could swoop in and save her then. The enclave officer pony stayed by her side. Featherlite or whatever her name was definitely lacked fighting spirit. She was an officer. An older officer who was used to a whole squad, not some two-bit loony like her. It didn't matter then. They used Featherlite's wristbelle to navigate to Sauk Conserva Pak. There, they'd spend time riding a ferry of sorts. It was more like a steamboat than anything. The two were driven by an old Legion ferryman called 'Long Strait.' His demeanor was eccentric at best, from the way he always kissed the ship columns, to the constant polishing of the floors on the hurricane deck, to how Long Strait never let anyone near the texas deck. The texas deck was the level of the boat where the texas resided. A texas was a stretch of cabin designed to house the pilothouse and the crew quarters. Though Lilith never saw anypony but Narrow Strait enter or exit the general area.

It's windows were painted black and sometimes the girl heard low and unintelligible voices from inside. The easiest way to encounter them was traversing the boiler deck. Just below the area of the texas was where it festered most. Nothing was certain, but something hollow and noiseless guided her there every night. Every night, near midnight, she would shuffle over on her roman sandles, narry a noise slipping through her steps. It was almost nerve-wracking sneaking out at night. Only her book and her mitts kept her lax. The book was a gentle guide, as it spoke to her with Father's voice. One night, she slipped away to smoke at the ship's stem piece, admiring the wasteland moonlight.

For some reason, the pale, pearl form of her celestial lover always shined ahead. Ahead to where she'd go, and ahead to a wasteland she needed to build. It was hard to contain her satisfaction. The awe she felt just studying the moon, gazing into it as ripples distorted it's crystalline reflection, was an inmate iridescence. It started when she lit a cigarette, noticing the flame unusually long and sickly, burning in blue and green hues.

'You've been idle for quite sometime... When are you going to offer more to Father? There's one right on this ship. Two if you cast aside your petty convictions to moral and code.'

Buddy. It was Buddy speaking to her on that most beautiful night. For a moment, her lips pursed and her nose twitched. That passed when she took her first breathe of nicotine and let the tar vapor kiss her lungs.

"You're still going on about how dedicated you are to Daddy? I'm dedicated too. But you don't see me sacrificing my friends 24/7. If you want a sacrifice to a temple, you find a dumb animal to cower in the water, first. We aren't in a temple of death. And I'm all out animals." The girl replied, unsure of how to handle the fog rolling in.

It was still snowing. Why would fog roll in at such an odd and inopportune time. The next few seconds were spent listening to Buddy. His laugh was raspy and immediate, always lingering about her ear in lingering whispers. If she ever had a brother, particularly an older and more indulgent one, he'd be a lot like Buddy.

'He has more skeletons than you think, you know. So does she. Whatever you're hanging up on tonight, I'd leave it alone tomorrow. You'll reach the Snapdrake Seed Mill in approximately three days and six hours. And when you do, Long Strait will be in the boiler room. Sneak upstairs to the hurricane deck and stick to the shadows till you reach the texas. Open it and look inside. You won't be disappointed, haha...'

The promise of spilled secrets tugged away at her. If it was true, she had to stay awake when Featherlite was actually asleep. The next morning was an arduous one. They switched shifts immediately and only one of them seemed to feel, however minute and trivial, a sense of distraction. Any amount of delegation from someone's path could lead them astray. And that one, minor nuisance, of watching Long Strait precariously switch from hurricane deck to boiler deck, Lilith kept her trigger finger half-ready. Over the course of her physical metamorphosis, she'd bought a few things from Sauk Conserva Pak.

Lilith purchased a simple dress shirt, which Sweetie's Legion raided from the New Canines, a kevlar vest from a police station in Yew Haul and some first aid supplies for crippled limbs. She'd found nothing else really and had to work a pair of equine panties onto herself. They were lace. Why lace? Because Sweetie's Legion preferred to raid fashionable loot. Featherlite called her down from the main deck and guards. A soft, jingling shake followed her every step. Lilith's boots had spurs on them. She wore snakeskin boots with tiny cat faces on the spurs themselves. Walking back to Featherlite made her comfortable again. Being alone was... absolute torture.

"Miss Lilith, sir. We've reached the Snapdrake Seed Mill. It's right over the dock. Careful, though. There are gaps you can fall in through." Reported Featherlite, nodding in agreement when she was asked to wait on the dock itself.

Constant, washing river noise brushed along her ears. They weren't nearly as perceptive anymore. And most of her immediate hearing was lost with the change. But all their proprioception and precognition stayed the same. That was why, amidst the sailing tide pacing back and forth between the boat and the shore it clung to, she sensed Long Strait on the boiler deck. Despite the spurs on her boots, her droning, muffled footsteps were hard to detect. She was a human. She weighed much less than the regular pony. Lilith marched up the boiler deck and straight up to the hurricane deck, sparing nothing for Long Strait.

The door to the structure came undone as she clicked it open.

Inside lay a group of foals in chains. He had three of them in captivity, all malnourished and skeletal, laying naked. A filly of not more than six crawled toward her, clawing at the floorboards with hooves that were bruised at the wrists. Dry, white stains layered her lips as she clung to Lilith's leg and hung her mouth wide open. The same substance lay in a doggybowl just across her, neighboring a broomhandle wrapped in barbed wire and a leather belt fixed with nails in the buckle slots. The other two were sleeping. They were both sleeping away from a world that swallowed them whole and ate them alive.

Approaching hoofsteps forced her to slide out of the child's grip and behind the space by the door.

"Sweetheart? Did you open the door again...?" He whispered, trotting over and petting his captive, even pressing against her flank, where all the scars were.

A rich red oozed out her wounds. They were numerous and incomprehensible. On her flank. At her hips. On her rear. Even long, shallow blade marks streaked her sunken stomach. Long Strait dug his hoof into her scars and watched her legs buck weakly. Her eyed went wide and the filly protested in raspy, choking coughs and pleas of 'stop- it hurts.' A stray creaking noise forced his eyes away from her. His face was a pale, pale white. Standing before him was a woman with the skin of a foal over her face. Her eyes were glowing and pink. And in her hand was a short, rotten limb. It was a foal's leg.

"Warum da zuka morde,  mortar menn...?" The ghost whispered.

She marched toward him. The spirit of the child in pale death came to him. He begged her to leave him be. He begged her to spare him, groping along the ship as he staggered backwards. A tightness took his chest and Long Strait collapsed to the ground. He spent his last moments clutching the left side of his body and drowning in gasoline he'd stored for corpse disposal.

Lilith Grins scooped his eyes out and set him on fire.

She smiled and worked into a grin, cocking her head at the wonders of fire. Her new child, the only survivor of three others, cuddled up nice and snug and nuzzled her neck.

They sat quietly and watched the world burn.

Tribe

Lilith had taken a liking to her adopted child. It was no contest picking between her salvation and her inevitable death. But it didn't matter to her. Because when somepony survived thorough, childhood trauma, they deserved to move forward. A supple, whispering breeze kissed her hair, shielding her shivering filly from the wastes. Why was she shivering? She was suffering from an anemic condition most likely. And a protien deficiency. The last of her bowel movements also showed severe malnutrition was already in effect. Featherlite did the flying and scout work, while Lilith marched onward beneath her. What little supplies they had took a toll on all three. Footsteps were stumbling at times and sometimes the ache in their stomachs felt like being eaten alive. The environment was outlined by a vignette of blurriness. It might've discouraged anyone else, but Featherlite and Lilith were determined to find safe quarter for a lost child.

Everything, as far as the eye could see, was blanketed in white and grey. A slate of salted ash seemed to engulf the wasteland in sleep. For miles and miles they found nothing but freeway and silence. The clouds were a trademark gloom and hung over them like a perpetually suspended guillotine. After the longest mile, which they'd all lost count of after the tenth, the trio happened upon a makeshift settlement on the nearest trail to the Twin Cities.

'Saurkaut' it was called, evidenced by the welcome sign erected on soft, brown soil. Beneath the upturned snow and radioactive winter was healthy dirt. They were amazed to find beauty in their travels. Row after row of eldritch vegetables and fruits stuck out the ground and into their sights. A long, green crop stayed on high stalks rising to the sky. And below that were strings of elongated bean pods. Featherlite took to landing and stalked into the town with the rest of her party. Her eyes never stayed static. They never clung to anything mundane.

"Do you suppose this is a safe place to be. It's so quiet. And nopony seems to be around." The pegasus whispered, staying perpetually crouched with her boots never raising or landing, but shuffling.

Lilith answered when she struck a match and lit herself a cigarette. Because if they were being ambushed, her nerves were sort of important.

"When do we ever see more than four people at a time." Lilith chuckled, low and grainy in her caution.

A misplaced mass of something made its way over the horizon. And then, another, crashing wave of shapeless blobs chased after it. The weird and non-uniform nature of the sight made Lilith speed toward cover, keeping her filly tight against her thick dress-shirt. She'd rolled the sleeves to half and used the clips to keep them in-place. She and Featherlite leaned against opposing corners of a narrow shack structure. The scrap metal stench rubbed tetanus against their backs as they kept watch. One at a time, they peaked around the edge of their cover.

A rush of what was comparable to thunder struck their ears. It was a stampede of sorts. But of what. Lilith poked her head out only to find an even more jarring sight than a filly sex dungeon.

A two-headed winterfang was being hunted by a band of maybe thirty to fourty tribals. The tribals were armed with long, oak spears and cactus barb clubs. It was evident by their improvised scraps of armor, from wolf skins to woodcraft pieces and even stone slabs, they were a flock of nature ponies. At the front were the spearmares. And spearmares were all it took to overwhelm the beast. Javelin after partisan punctured it's coat before it slowed altogether. And when the beast was done, it growled till blood spurted out it's neck and the tribals kept distance.

A warm, timid unicorn snuck out to the front of her hunting party. Their eyes were gold and their mane was lush, grass green. Her beige coat was adorned with bone charms and wooden plate. She approached her dying prey and soothed it to the great beyond.

"Oh great spirit. Give us the bounty of your flesh. We are humble beings. Children of the earth. We hunt for our own children so one day they too can tend your soil... just as you've tended us."

The hunt was over and the most capable ponies carried the carcass. A simple stretcher of dried leather and tropical vine took it to rest.

Before Lilith or Featherlite could ever try and reveal themselves, an understated 'achoo' echoed out their position. It was Phoenix Heart, the sickly filly. They were in trouble. Soon the hunting party was closing in with their spears right up. Lilith and Featherlite agreed to transport Phoenix Heart somewhere safe. Somewhere high. That was why a rain of spears and followed their ascent skyward. It wasn't high enough to force Phoenix Heart into shock or a lack of oxygen. Just enough to avoid spear tosses and bolts of forest green, pink-laced magic. Before anypony landed a javelin near Phoenix Heart, Lilith thought it was time to do or die. In one, swift movement, she sprung out from cover and faced them head-on.

"Submit yourselves therefore to Void! Resist me, and I will burn your forest to the ground!"

The many wasted spears served as improvised weapons. She used enough before to know why it was good to keep one. At all times, six enemies were on her. All tribals. All warriors far more capable and skilled than she could ever hope to be with melee weapons and sheer athleticism. One after the other, they swiped and jabbed at her in all directions. Nick after cut and laceration after puncture tore at her skin. The clothes she wore were torn and nicked away in the chaos. Cherry red and deep sanguine spilled from every mark the tribals left. And for every mark, she added a body to the pile. Lilith bobbed and weaved to the deadly dance of battle. When she reached the eighth tribal, entranced in the awareness of her enemy but only springing forward to meet them, she ran out of disposable weapons. Each and every survivor stuck at least an oar's length between them. The heat of battle left her in tattooed of cold sweat and warm, thin blood oozing out her wounds. Lilith stood her ground, surrounded by enemies that had pierced her flesh more times than she could count. One of them spoke their mothers tongue and included the word 'ghost.'

Another came out to the entrance of the circle and barked nervously.

"Chindi! Chindi naohncum ak'éítra?!" He blurted out, his eyes wide with desperation and confusion.

The kind mare from before slipped out the crowd and imparted her mercy. The eyes she flickered once between Lilith and once between the lead tribal melted the tension away. It was quiet and they didn't need to fight after she raised her hoof and walked between them. She found her brother tribal and soothed him, tipping his spear down till it left his shaken hooves.

"Fratersilí... yiizexit paceja ita yiizexit paceja yifacturo." Said the peacemaker, before turning to speak to the evil spirit.

"Spirit. Please don't hurt my people. They know not what they do. You and the other yadilum populo are great ancestors. Should you not be tending your Earth as we do yours...?"

She planted seeds into her palm and left a cluster of apple seeds with rich soil. It forced the heated scowl from Lilith's face and left unintended innocence in her cold, glowing eyes. Touching her peaceful hooves left a mark between them. Blood from her rugged, lacerated palms stained the peacemare. And she was stained with kindness. Their unexpected love for her, the enemy and their definition of a great spirit, unwinded her coiled musculature.

"I am no spirit of your tribe. But I am a spirit. I came to bring gods back to Equestria. And I need you to help me and my wife and child. If you do, I'll make sure to grow your crops even better. And your weapons even sharper. I promise I'll bring back the other people in the sky." Lilith hushed, grainy and low in her adrenaline-soaked throat.

Her friend's eyes widened, enamored with awe and wonder. And that's when she told her people the good news and spread the good word. They would hold a welcoming event for the sky people and remember The One Who Becomes Red spoke sister tongue.

At the end of every day after that, she would always be... tribe.

Ash

The world grew dark and the tribesmares danced across the bonfire. The snow fell the same way it did every other night. And the tribe celebrated the arrival of The One Who Becomes Red with roast winterfang. Embers faintly flaked away from the bottom of the harsh inferno. They were a dying breed. An elderly and sickly relative to the healthy faggots charring to a black, midnight crisp. Lilith was entranced in the fire. It was where she belonged. In her heart, she could only feel one thing: the will to burn. To burn wood to comfort Phoenix Heart. To burn the world in loving flame. It washed her restless mind with thoughts of making Equestria whole again.

Would they be better off with tribe... or civilization?

That was the question. To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or by opposing, end them.

A quiet nudge jolted her shoulder awake. Lilith took her eyes off the fire and focused on Featherlite, who'd done the deed.

"Sir. We should be finding something useful, shouldn't we? Food. Tech. Maybe some medicine?" The pegasus stated, fiddling around with the wristbelle that she'd borrowed from Silent Hill.

"You're... you're right. I should be looking for those things. But I'm still enjoying this. They think I'm a god. And they don't try to kill me for it or even shun me away for being... different. What place is this, Featherlite. Because I don't remember the wasteland feeling so safe."

Lilith rested her chin atop her child's scalp. Phoenix Heart still had a broken horn. And she could barely talk. But what little they'd heard were snippets of english and some other tribal tongue mixed together. Bits of snow and ash fell around them and dotted her coat. When drums began booming from the biggest tent, her eyelashes flickered with the flames. The wind whistled with the voices of many tribesemares, only serving to wake her more. Phoneix Heart opened her eyes and the roast winterfang was passed around. Legs to the daughters and sisters for swift hooves. Ribs and hearts for the elders to keep their teeth sharp and hearts strong. And the men ate the stomach flesh and insides, to keep their restless bodies at peace. The One Who Becomes Red had the tongue and liver, along with the eyes and powdered teeth over bits of rib and heart. The elders agreed that the battle yesterday showed she would need to reach the land and speak to it. And that took perception, endurance and charisma.

It was salted with rock salt from someplace far away, along with spices and herbs from near the same place. When Featherlite asked where they learned to cook it, Peacemaker, which was actually the translator pony's name, replied herself. The four of them sat facing the fire, inspired to stay warm by it's radiance.

"We learned this way from the New Canines. Once, they found us by the Great Lake Born Again, where the water is so pure and clean, drinking enough cures one's sickness. We were ambushed by the great white sky gods and their golden sun magic. They cursed us by bathing some of our kin in green and black poison. They grew monstrous. They were chindi." Said Peacemaker, resuming after she chewed on spare wolf haunch.

"We knew the waters of Great Lake Born Again could cure them. So we traveled. Days passed and the men grew tired. The women grew light with starvation. And the elders passed in their sleep. But then they traveled into us, like great ancestors. They taught us how to use ancestor metal tents to make better spears. And how to turn ash into food. They gave us ways to fight the other tribes. The Canines taught us mercy and peace through their sky god. And that is why we are still here... the New Canines showed us to be one with the wasteland."

The bleeding one nodded in response. Shifting about in her seat kicked one of her knees. Hour old bandages layered her body and left her snug in some form of blanket by the flame. They were thin, but sturdy enough to shelter her ointment-licked scabs from getting cold and frigid. Lilith retold herself the tale and tilted her head in realization.

"Other tribes...? How many? And do you fight with these other tribes...?" She asked, unsure and softspoken beneath the noise of jingling bone music.

"Seven. And mostly, we do. But we aren't winning. I do my best to convince the others that we need to relocate. But they're stubborn. Because we are the oldest, they want us to be the last. But war does not work that way. Our main enemy... they have no mercy. They take children and force them to fight. The strongest one becomes their own." Explained Peacemaker, turning her head to Phoenix Heart as lightning streaked the sky.

Thunder gave way to rain. And the soft drizzle felt good over scabbed burns. Against her bandages so dry and wispy. It felt like rebirth. At first, Peacemaker seemed to enjoy Phoenix Heart's sleeping beauty. But, by the minute, Lilith found the mare staring at her.

"Is something wrong...?"

"... No. It's just that the Broken Horns have lost a child sometime ago. And I can't help but notice her broken horn. It's an omen to see the child of an enemy, Red One." She stated, rising up and gesturing her to follow, only her, since Featherlite was never alerted.

"I'll be back." Lilith said, tapping Featherlite's shoulder and following their tribal friend.

A wide area of tipis and shacks stayed dormant as they slipped through it. Skeletal remains of rusted homes and ruined houses kept her hands ready. Though Lilith couldn't fight, the place was too quiet for comfort. Sauerkraut, whose sign wasn't missing a letter where she walked, seemed entirely haunted. Everypony else was at the towering bonfire, basking in it's glow. But they left behind everything else, down to the way an apple was half-eaten, or a pencil by its paper. Chirping crickets and stray firebugs dotted her path. And Peacemaker finally stumbled over the last pile of rubble in town. They reached a wide, open-mouthed cavern. It's maw, for the most part, gaped monstrously and threatened to swallow them whole with it's many teeth. Stalagmites and stalagtites littered the expanse, some just inches over Lilith's scalp. Peacemaker turned her head back and explained it was their medicine mare's cave.

"Coming Storm settles here when she has her visions. And one day, on a night where light split the sky, she fell and shook on the ground. We were in a circle. I tried to go in but the others stopped me. Her shaking scared us. It was strong shaking. It looked like her legs would break. But, we prayed the sky gods were giving her a vision. And when she stopped, Coming Storm woke up to tell us... the sky people would return. A spirit with hair like blood would come to us holding a child. The child would be ours to care for. And the Red One would fight with us against the Broken Horns..."

Peacemaker's hooves had brushed along the mouth of the cave. It was there, she coated it with ash from a pouch at her waist. On the jagged stone, uneven and cracked in certain places, the ash formed a cross.

"Are you Christian...?" Lilith asked, not knowing how taboo it was to mention an entirely human belief.

"... I don't know what a krischeeyan is, but I follow the New Canines. They say there is one sky god that protects us. She watches over us and is the reason the New Canines had the feeling to stop by The Great Lake Born Again. This is Her sign, the holy mother's."

So there was a God being in Equestria. Just not a widespread belief in one. She agreed that the Christian God seemed to work miracles time to time. And his subjects were as faithful as they came. Just, her devotion to her own Father paid it's own dues. Even hungry, beaten and fallen, he lead her to Peacemaker. He lead her to tribe. So Lilith nodded and agreed with her. It was good to have faith. The two left Coming Storm Cavern and returned to camp. Of the fire once great and once ferocious, only ashes and embers remained. They shuffled about only to see Phoenix Heart risen. With her eyes opened, lime green, toxic magic illuminated her eyes. Her irises were a ring of crimson over slit-like pupils.

"Qhov twést yog ma niaere...?" Her tiny voice rasped, like a thousand knives sliding across stone.

Peacemaker took a step backward. And another. And another. Her foreleg brushed Lilith's ribs as she told her the omen was true. An evil spirit had found the child during the rainstorm. They should run, she urged, ready to jolt away for miles on end.

"Hn... You speak mountain horse and fantaisie?" Lilith hushed, advancing toward her in baby steps.

With open arms, she held her. It dimmed Phoenix Heart's eyes. Lower and lower, her lids sunk, till only wisps of hate magic leaked away. A small embrace compared to months of pain calmed her heart. An honest heart kissed her own asleep and laid it to rest. Phoenix held her back as tightly as she could, barely able from extended periods of starvation. Stray, wandering winds blew their way, embracing them with ash and snow.

The white winter stained Lilith's bandages. They were damp and dotted with ash. When she let go, she was shocked to find her wraps bloody. To find her scars reopened and pried open. But what was it, she wondered, trying to erase the red from Phoenix' snout. No matter how much she cleaned, the stain stayed deep.

"Peacemaker. I need some more wraps. Hand me some leftover winterfang, too... I need to feed my daughter." Lilith murmured, holding close her bundle of joy.

They rose from the ashes and sat together to watch the bonfire. Phoenix Heart nuzzled into her chest and licked at salt on her bandages. Her tiny muzzle took a few, short sniffs and she whispered into Lilith, her lips to her heart.

"Yog kuv tiagvrais yog vraimlist...?"

Lilith kissed her broken horn and kept her child pressed against her chest.

"Yes. You are. I promise... kuv tsis quitter kojs."

Ripper, Slasher, Teeth In The Darkness.

Doctor Brown returned his friend's binoculars, watching her hang on the answer along with their brooding, thought-heavy leader. The trio nodded all at once. Silent Hill and Doctor Brown looked toward their war chief and readied their weapons. One, last evaluation of their surroundings reminded the party of their advantage.  It was a hidden bunker plagued by natural, blinding dust storms. It was the closest Silent had been to the fabled twin cities, whose walls were floating domes or towering barriers between the storms and the puritans inside. Both Silent Hill and Bubblegum took the lead, while Doctor Brown handled the flank. He glanced down at the raider pinned beneath him, both temporary seating and mumbling curses in his weakened state. Normally, he wouldn't have cared. But the colt started chuckling and calling him a 'colt-cuddling faggot.'

Doctor Brown pushed his glasses up and stomped his muzzle into a mess of teeth and gums. The group deployed in a delta formation, crouching low as possible and readying their hooves to strafe into various attack patterns. A harsh, whistling gale stung their skin, forcing them to remember the safety of the initial trench they took to reach Purple Heart. Dust and snow kicked up behind them as they stormed the nearest moving silhouette. Brown reached his target first, handling a baseball bat with memory foam around the handle. Twas' a New Celestia Republic soldier, dressed in standard winter fatigues. His head was protected by another standard piece: an old world footsoldier helm. It even had the strap under the chin and semi-spherical shape.

He tapped the colt's shoulder, hoofsteps hidden by the guise of rushing wind. A heavy clunk flung the NCR Grunt backwards. The downed soldier rushed to his hooves, raising his forelegs to block an incoming swing. In one, diagonal motion, Doctor Brown shoved his weight into his bat. He struck the grunt below their chin, scoring a lucky critical. Falling the NCR grunt only made him wobble back to stable hoofing. Wild, sloppy haymakers flew past Doctor Brown's narrow muzzle, forcing him lower and more rigid. He wasn't used to fighting up close and personal. The colt managed to sock him on the side of his snout. Lukewarm, winter-chilled blood trickled down his lips.

In that very moment, his eyes were an absolute darkness: an empty void without mercy or feeling. He took a crouch so low that he could barely be scraped by their hits, not to mention stricken. He reared his legs up and sprang forward, smashing the end of the bat into his nose. The blunt trauma made his enemy knock out, prompting him to slam it into his temple one more time. No vitals, he confirmed, his head against their chest. And the blunt object splitting his skull open helped too.

Thankfully, there were only two more encounters with the sentries. Silent made short work of them before finding the bunker hatch. She carefully ruffled through Bubble's bag and sifted through a novel about sexually active 2D ponies, tiny tentacle abominations and a roll of toilet paper. However confused she was didn't matter, because they found the key they were looking for. It was all black and made of hard, rigid metal. Silent Hill put it in, turned the valve and struck the key into the lock mechanism. It slid in and seemingly vanished inside it. The valve split down the center and so did the hatch, showing handles on the underside for closing it behind.

Entering the underground space held very little surprise. It was typically damp and leaked moisture from loose cracks in the concrete. Another quality to the first, long stretch of bunker was ejected ammunition. Most of it happened to be energy and microfusion cells. Along the ground were neighboring 5.56 cases and cigarette buds, both fairly fresh compared to the ice cold battery husks crowding near their hooves. They passed the third, empty and winding narrow corridor. If it were an ambush, Bubblegum started, giving them an unholster gesture, she'd give them a stable formation and tactics.

"Silent. You're middle. You can use your B.A.T.S to blast anyone catching me by surprise. Brown. You're in the back. Get ready to toss some pineapples or slug some NCR. I'll be here at the front. If I start running, run faster. If I engage, spread out and keep your backs to the walls. Side strafe and take out targets by concentrating your fire. Understood?"

All that sound tactical advice drew a bead of honey from Silent. Something about being told what to do was just... right. Being told how to do it so well, now that was a whole other level of being warm. They took her complete and helpful advice, sticking tightly in a line formation and pointing their guns separate ways. Bubblegum herself had their trust plasma pistol readied by the bite grip. She froze in her tracks, signalling them to stop. Her forehoof kicked in-place, met with an eerie, metal clang. They all watched as an immediate darkness followed their last steps toward an open doorway. Along the walls were stationary, rigid bodies. Most were fallen in their power armor. Some were just recruits that were massacred in the wrong place at the right time. None of the uniformed soldiers had weapons.

Bubblegum Grins was the first to analyze their condition.

"Rigormortis is in effect and the corpses are ripped open in various places. If you sift through the flayed ribcages you can see the intestines are missing. Someone or something managed to tear through their power armor..."

Silent Hill scratched her head and took their rifle out to talk. A supple heat started beneath her coat, itching and biting her with stress. Something wasn't right, from the frequency to the lack of perceived life. She shared her improvised theory on the matter, checking her ID-107 for any loose or worn components.

"You're onto something. This whole place feels like some sort of trap. I can't believe they're all dead and not even in the main chamber. Look at the wounds, though. They were killed fighting. We can tell from the claw marks in the armor mean they were attacked by a thing. Not a pony. But a thing. My guess is that it's a mutie."

The third party member nodded quietly, assessing the impenetrable darkness beyond their last, seemingly ominous step forward. Even the doorway seemed to lack hinges or sliding gaps for a door of any kind.

"This is no work of any diamandas canis. Or those underground relatives you handled the other week ago. This is the work of a creature with a distinctly honed claw calcium. It is not natural for claws long enough to exceed five inches to be able to splint metal." He explained, readying a grenade in his forehoofs and a baseball bat between the teeth.

Battle time. A unified nod led them toward the same doorway with the same, cautious anxiety. Something lay beyond that dark hallway. And it needed to be addressed together. Doctor Brown already warned tossing a grenade might harm potential friendlies. And Bubblegum said not to rely on the electromagnetic locator on the WristBelle. Instead, she utilized it's turquoise flashlight function. Ten feet of visibility kept the dark away at all times, never once interrupted by flickers or external shadows. Beneath their glowing visage were dried blood stains and large, yet hooved footprints. A majority of the abandoned and surprisingly wide-open area revealed pipes and decommissioned computer setups. There were even a few screens and control panels lining the walls, concluding that the very bunker they resided in was a hidden cryostable. The farther in they went, the more it also told that the cryostable belonged to the beast that slaughtered the ponies before. Everywhere were claw marks, cloven, bloody hoofprints and bones of ponies curled up against the walls.

Silent Hill spotted an active terminal among the mess of broken ones and chemical apparatuses. She theorized, from the scattered medical supplies and petri dishes, that it uses to be a biochemistry laboratory. Mostly for research, evidenced by the many displaced clipboards and pencils as well. Though curious about the nature of their location, she only checked the terminal once. Silent Hill found varying lines and clusters of code spew, sighting but only a few of the recent password attempts so far. It was accessed fairly easily by nothing but an override of the login screen. She worked around the login screen by rebooting the terminal and accessing a command prompt. By inputting a few opening commands, such as accessing the internal storage, which was A: in her case, she forced the information out by simply downloading the contents to her WristBelle. The files were properly reformatted from the outdated autoproxy design, which had it's own network and modem plus router and all that junk built into it's bulk of a frame.

Doctor Brown sat watching their flank as he heard an audio recording.

'Doctor Osmosis here. Day ten of the Chimera Experiment. We've captured the subject once again to study it's overwhelmingly complex and bizarre anatomy. Most of the data has been sent down to Dr. Hearse. He assured us that our experiments weren't encroaching on any laws imposed by Canterlot Genetics or Celestia's Bureau of Biochemical Research...

But I doubt that. Dr. Hearse told us that the feds expected a good final release. But all that aggression and chemical imbalance can't be a good thing. Overall: it's been ten days and the subject still isn't improving in terms of logic and emotional stability. Me and the rest of the team will be administering frequent doses of dopamine and endorphins. We'll add sedative to this as well. Doctor Osmosis, out.'

Amazing, she thought, smushing her muzzle with her forehooves.

Somepony thought it was a good idea to house a severely dangerous and capable thing in an isolated and anti-social environment. They needed all they could get. So Silent listened to one more audio recording, one that wasn't damaged by bad data or memory glitches.

'This is Doctor Osmosis. Day two of the Chimera Experiment. They had this one shipped from Las Pegasus. It's genetic structure is reminiscent of a chimpanzee's, while also sharing strains from a Jackson's chameleon and godolphin arabian equus breeds. For one, it creeps me out. Two, it's completely out of it's habitat. You couldn't put the subject in a more unfitting place for training and military use. They dumped one extraterrestrial, one pony and one jackson in the FEV. This was the result. I'd say it's appearance is the second most concerning thing about it. The first is having to train it to certain audible stimuli. You can hear it raging and screaming whenever they apply the cattleprods. I'm worried treating it this way will make it turn on us someday. Osmosis signing out.'

Silent Hill wondered why, when she opened a fusebox and flipped the switches toward the middle, everything became operational again. Everything. Even a nearby jukebox. Even the sign above their heads that said 'subject: free, remain behind the blast doors.' Frigid, crawling fear slithered up her spine. Doctor Brown took a minute of silence to stabilize his shaken, unresponsive hooves. They all knew then that the blast doors made to keep them safe were ruined and torn off their hinges. It was settled that they'd assume Attack Pattern Delta and stay in an arrow-like formation. Just then, a storm of metallic, echoing bangs started in the stable not minutes away. It sounded like either a large beast in armor or somepony donning Grand Pegasus Enclave tech. They were ready. It rushed closer to vivid proximity, ringing their ears in contrast to the deafening silence prior. Bubblegum half-pressed her trigger before... another pony met the end of her cathode barrel.

it was an enclave officer with a familiar, beige and jet black uniform. A tear slipped their eyes as they begged them to run. She was a mare just a smidgen older than most travelers, likely around her early thirties. An undeniable horror drew jittery, in-place steps from her dust-caked legs. She stayed finicky even in her eyes, which were restless blue-greys joined by a mess of bleach blonde curls. Bubblegum Grins gently guided her behind them. Because right then and there, her and Silent's ears perked right up.

The pair suffered an unmistakable tremble in their forehooves and ears. Unlike Silent, who was unaware of her Celestia-given gift, her pink companion had the full idea. It shook her bones, that twitch. It struck down to the marrow with how foreboding it was.

Bang. Clang. Bang. Clang.

"Silent, Brown, take this girl away from here. None of you can risk your lives but I sure as hell can."

In unison, their jaws dropped.

"What?!" They shouted, an angry, ugly scrunch starting in Silent's face.

"You're part of this team, too! You can't just die here! What would we have done if you didn't find that plasma rifle last time...! You have to live because we don't know the battle field like you...! We- we couldn't replace you. Who's gonna keep us from fighting each other a-and who's... gonna keep us happy?"

Bang. Clang. Bang. Clang. The enclave officer buckled in her knees, begging them to run. She herself even glanced toward the exit plenty of times. Yet, in her recognition of who Silent was, she stood her ground in heavy dread. It was coming for them. That thing was galloping forward best it could to take them away. Her watered eyes met the dim glow of pink, focusing and defocusing concentric lines. Bubblegum answered and slowly turned her back on her friends.

"I don't know. But I hope it's me. I'm sorry I didn't do more with you. But time for talking's over. Take her away and search for the remnants. I'll miss you."

"Bubblegum... Bubblegum don't do this. Don't do this- please-"

Doctor Brown took her by the left foreleg and waist, forcing her back even as she struggled. 'Let me go!' Silent barked, forcing him and the new girl to drag her off. She kicked and screamed till her throat was scratchy and hoarse. The echoed screams and ravings of someone saying goodbye haunted them. Bubblegum felt her heart break as the second mare to ever miss her cried out her name. Even though it was all she could do, Bubblegum felt right putting her plasma pistol down and setting it aside.

Bang. Clang. Bang. Clang.

"Alright you son of a bitch... if I'm dying today, I'm dying with my mitts out." She growled, sighting a titanic, imposing shadow around the corner.

The beast was a beast and likely had no sword or weapon or armor. They'd meet as equals and let fate decide.

It approached her and reared it's ugly, fleshy head. The beast had skin instead of a coat. It's torso had swollen pectorals and tight abdominals. It's muscular upper-half had eyes resembling a monkey's. Except, it was more intelligent. More venomous, as if it were coming back to reclaim it's throne: top of the food chain. The beast had fingers that ended in claws sharp and thick enough to tear the walls apart. Bubblegum Grins met the centaur's monstrous scowl with her own, razor-sharp grin.

"Alright mutie! Let's go! Beluae- Monstrum...!"

It lit up with surprise and lowered itself even further. The beast had intelligence after all. It tossed away a weapon it had prior, a laser lance from before slung over the back. She understood. For some reason, the centaur understood her honor. Her years and years of conditioning her body to become more than equine. It understood what it meant to really be strong.

They charged, both crouched and efficient, not an inkling of drag holding them back. The Centaur swiped at her chest, barely grazing the fur when she leaned backwards. Bubblegum bled from the scar across the bridge of her nose. It burned. She angled herself so her hips and torso twisted, exposing her right ribs. And when the monster slashed at her opening, she took a pivot to the side and performed a smash. The momentum from it's swipe slammed into it's stomach, where Bubblegum's hoof dug itself in. He roared and took to one, heavy gag, ruptured thoroughly by that one, well-placed counter punch. It only took that much to launch Bubblegum forward and into a supermare punch. The Centaur reeled back, it's stomach ripped apart by hooves heavier than concrete.

Bubblegum's hooves actually crippled it's abdominals. He scurried back and carried his laser lance into battle. A low hum swooped past her ears. Another slash singed the fur off her flank. He swung and stabbed to heart's content, kissing her coat with raging heat. It was a dance of fluid contortion in her body and wide, powerful swings of his arms. His hooves joined in firm, booming stomps, picking pace just barely matching her's. Bubblegum found her rhythm and studied his eyes between little twirls and slips below the centaur and his turning hips. The world became seconds slower and her body moved to her enemy's. He leased a flurry of sharp, singing slashes across the air, inching closer and closer to her flexible, twisting body. Duck after slip and bob after feign, she evaded his blunt ferals. They were essentially haymakers. Feral lefts and rights. She saw them coming from a mile away.

Her enemy tore through table after table and terminal husk after beaker, splattering the floor in rotten mixtures and compounds. A foul stench occupied the laboratory, keeping their senses dulled. It flung a table at her and she leapt into a cartwheel, avoiding his missiles with her muscles ready to rip clean off. When he ran out of things to toss, he stamped his hooves and rushed over, tearing away at the air.

She avoided all but one of his swipes. A single, three-clawed streak wounded her chest and drenched her coat in blood.

Bubblegum grins leapt off his arm and onto his back. He couldn't reach her. His arms were too thick and heavy from sapping, long-winded motions. A haymaker to the temple made him stumble. Then, another. And another.

"How's that?!" The mare barked, grating her voice with grain and grit.

He started buckling and losing control of his legs. Hammer after hammer traumatized his eardrums and left him entirely discombobulated. The centaur felt his eardrums pop as one more, compact hook did him in.

"Go down... go down...! Go down!"

She struck him under the chin, executed a hammerfist on his snout and dismounted, only to bring him down by the neck. It snapped quietly and left her a bloody, sweating mess on the floor. In a few hours, she'd probably die from bleeding out. But that was okay, she huffed to herself, smiling wide open and choking on her surplus of blood.

She saved her friends. And she'd done alright.

Now it was time to say goodbye and bleed till morning came.

Bubblegum Grins closed her eyes and faded.