“Oh shit!”

I barely heard the words above the high-pitched whining that seemed to reverberate through my skull, sending tendrils of intermingling pain and numbness along my torso and limbs. My body felt like it was both on fire, and submerged in freezing water all at once. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't even open my mouth. Or my eyes for that matter. At the moment, my whole world was one formed entirely of darkness and discomfort.

What had happened to me?

“Oh fuck! Oh fuckitty-fuck-fuck...fuck!”

The voice was growing greater in volume, but it still sounded very distant for some reason. Like the speaker was trying to talk to me through a wall...or maybe three. It figured that my ears wouldn't be working any better than the rest of my body seemed to be. Unless they were working fine, and there actually were three walls that existed between the two of us. That didn't really make me feel any better. Unsurprising.

“I killed her...Oh, fuck, I killed her!”

Was he talking about me? I suppose that he might be, as I could easily imagine that a pony who was laying motionless on the ground with her eyes closed might indeed appear very much to be dead. Unless there was another pony nearby who was worse off than I was. I couldn't see where I was or what was around me, so that was possible too. However, as the voice was steadily growing much clearer and closer, I guessed that it was indeed I that they believed to be dead.

Not quite, but it sure feels like you came close, whoever you are. To their credit, they did sound like they were genuinely distressed at the notion of my death. Well, so long as they only accidentally almost killed me, I suppose that was alright then. No harm done.

Might I suggest you at least check for a pulse before you think about tracking down my next of kin or anything? I thought it really loudly, but no words came out of course. I couldn't even feel my lips so much as twitch.

“Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!” On the bright side, it sounded like we were just down to two walls now. Either he was getting closer, or I was getting better. I still couldn't move though, “Oh, hey, Diode, you know what would be a really great idea? Wiring the spark battery directly into the pulse talisman! I mean, using capacitors to regulate the discharge is sooo overrated, right?! Why didn't anypony else ever think about doing this?

“Well now you know, you freaking idiot!”

Ooh, it sounded like there was just one more wall to go! I tried to open my eyes again. I needed to get my bearings and find out what was going on. The blackness remained. Awesome. I tried to move my legs. I couldn't tell if they did anything. The burning sensation was no longer present, but I guess the numbness remained.

“Huh?” I guess the last wall had vanished between myself and whoever else was nearby, since I heard the voice loud and clear this time. No hint of the high-pitched whine drilling through my eardrums was present any longer. They sounded really close, as though they were talking right next to my face, “oh, Celestia, you're alive?!” there was clear and stark surprise in their voice, “you're alive!” he—as it sounded distinctly like a stallion's voice—repeated in a much more relieved tone, “hold on,” the sound of rustling leather and clinking metal drifted to my ears, and then I felt—I could feel things! Huzza!—something being pressed to my lips. There was the taste of something thick and bitter as a liquid made contact with my tongue, and I reflexively sealed my mouth shut. What if he was trying to drug me?

The stallion clearly sensed my hesitancy, “relax, it's a healing potion. It'll make you better.”

I was still dubious, but...I dunno. He had sounded honestly remorseful at the thought of having killed me. I doubted somepony like that was going to try and poison me right now. I drank the concoction. Or tried to at any rate. My mouth didn't seem to be working any better than the rest of me and a good bit of the fluid spilled out of the corners of my mouth. Some of it might have made it down my throat though. It tasted a little chalky, and it was going to leave a sour sensation in my mouth for a while. Experimentally, I tried to open my eyes again. This time I was punished by having them actually open, and immediately regretted it when I saw how bright it was.

Well, I guess that wasn't entirely accurate. Once my eyes had a moment to adjust, I could clearly see that it wasn't any brighter than it usually was in the perpetually overcast Wasteland. It was just a lot brighter than the pitch black void I'd been in for the last few minutes. Most of my vision was actually not even taken up by the sky, but by the smokey amber face of a rather concerned looking earth pony stallion. Well, I say stallion, but he probably wasn't much more than a colt.

I took the opportunity that my newly returned vision allowed me to get a glimpse of my surroundings. I was lying in the middle of a street. The ruins of crumbling storefronts and apartments loomed to either side. The bones of some equestrian pre-war city.

There was a creeping sense of panic tugging at the back of my mind as I discovered that I was unable to recall precisely which city I'd been walking through when I'd lost consciousness. I guess whatever had put me out had done a real number on my mind, as well as my body.

“Are you okay, lady?” the colt-stallion asked, his features etched with worry. The question drew my thoughts back to the present situation, “I'm really sorry, that shouldn't have happened. I don't even know why it did, actually...” his eyes darted to the ground nearby. I tracked the direction of his gaze and noticed that he was regarding a thick metal saucer that bore a rather extensive array of scorch marks.

“Is that a mine?” I managed to mumble weakly. Speech, that was progress. I tried to get up again, but was only rewarded by seeing my left foreleg quiver ever so slightly. Well, perhaps 'progress' had been overstating things.

“Yes...well, sort of. Kinda,” the young caramel colored pony frowned, running a hoof through his tangle of unkempt brown hair that he probably called a mane, “it's supposed to be a pulse mine that only goes off near robots to disable them,” he looked back at me and offered up an apologetic smile, “obviously that one was defective. My bad.”

“Robots?”

“You know, the roboponies and such that wander around this place?” he regarded me with a little more concern now, “I guess the blast rattled you up pretty good.”

“Yeah...guess so,” I frowned down at the mine and tried once more to get back onto my feet. My limbs moved at least, and I could feel sensations through them, though they were greatly dulled. Whatever that mine had done to me was wearing off, but it was a slow process.

“That's probably my fault,” the stallion said as he made an effort to help me up, “normally a pulse mine wouldn't do much more than make your mane and tail go a little frizzy; but I've been tinkering with ways to turn up the output. I guess I might have turned it up a little too much. You dropped like a stone.”

“You saw?” I narrowed my eyes at the other pony. Had he been watching me? Spying maybe?

“Well, yeah,” the amber stallion then must have felt a need to amend his admission, since he rather hastily added, “I mean, I always keep watch over my minefield. I have to make sure I can move in quick so I can salvage the good stuff before anypony else shows up.”

“And you didn't feel like warning me?”

“I shouldn't have had to! These things aren't supposed to go off when actual ponies go near them,” his eyes scanned the surrounding hellscape, his expression uncertain, “some of them must have defective talismans,” under his breath he added, “I knew that merchant was being too generous. I bet he knew they didn't work right...” he sighed and brought up his left leg, tapping at a device strapped to it. He scrutinized the green and black screen, looking between the device and the surrounding minefield.

“I'm going to have to disarm and rebuild every single one of these damn things,” the amber stallion growled, “otherwise they're just going to blow up on every radroach and molerat that wanders through. Fucking butts.”

I was finally up on legs that felt heavy, and a little tingly. At least they were supporting my weight. I took a tentative step and was pleased to find that nothing buckled out from under me. I'd still be taking things slowly though, “my heart aches for you,” I quipped dryly, “among other things...”

“I said I was sorry,” the earth pony stallion reiterated, looking a little hurt himself at my comment; though certainly not physically, “look, I'll guide you out of the minefield and even give you a few bottles of Sparkle Cola I have back at the house.”

“Yeah, because everypony knows that a little two hundred year old soda makes everything better,” Another experimental step. I was feeling a little steadier I guess. The tingling was less pronounced. In a few minutes, I guessed that it would all be gone.

“Look, I get that I just sort of blew you up and all, but I still think you're being a little more bitchy about it that you need to,” he said with a frown, “you're not really hurt, and I'm offering to help you.

“I could just leave and let you figure out which mines are the defective ones on your own...”

Admittedly, I wasn't particularly found of that idea. He did have a point, I guess. I hardly felt any discomfort at all anymore, and he was being a lot more considerate about everything than he could be. It's not like he was obliged to have done anything for me at all. Just take the olive branch, um...Iris. Huh. It actually took me a second to remember my own name there.

“No, it's...” I sighed, “look, I just got blown up and I guess it put me in a bit of a pissy mood,” I offered the stallion a wan smile, “thanks for helping.”

“...you're welcome,” he offered, “do you mind if we try and get off on a better hoof? My name's Diode,” he extended his hoof, his expression inviting.

I met his offer with my own hoof, “nice to meet you. My name's Iris.”

“So,” he gestured at the barding that I was wearing, which consisted of a set of pale white coveralls accented with purple, “fresh out of the stable?”

My eyes glanced down at my clothing for a moment as well, then I shook my head, “no. I'm from the Baltimare Crater originally. Grew up in a little place called Bit Town.”

“Baltimare?” his eyebrows shot up in surprise, “don't think I've ever met anypony from there before.”

I shrugged, “that doesn't surprise me. It's pretty far...I think,” I frowned slightly, “where exactly am I?”

“You mean you don't know?”

My face scrunched up as I dug around in my brain trying to remember...well, pretty much anything. It was weird. I knew where I was from, and the ponies that I'd known back there; but I was having a really hard time thinking about anything that had happened since I left. For all I knew, I'd only been traveling for five minutes. Although, if Diode had never met a pony from Bit Town or anywhere else near the Crater before, then I supposed that I had to at least a little further away than that.

It did bother me that I'd seemed to lose quite a bit of time though, “my head's still a little fuzzy, I guess,” it'd taken a second for even my own name to come to me. It had though, so maybe I'd remember my trip eventually too, “that mine really did a number on my head.”

The stallion was looking a little more concerned now, “really? That's not normal at all. I mean, yeah a pulse blast can leave you stunned if you're not ready for it, but I've never heard of it messing with a pony's memory before. Maybe you should go see a doctor.”

“Do you happen to know any?”

“Well, there's one in Friendship City. A pony from an old Stable moved in a while ago and set up a clinic. He might be able to help. As long as you have the caps to pay him,” his eyes went to my sides as he said the last with a note of doubt.

I followed his gaze, looking idly at the sides of my body to see if something was wrong. It didn't look like anything was out of place. The white jumpsuit that I was wearing looked to be in fair condition. There was a little dirt on it from when I'd been laying on the ground just now, and the left sleeve was a little singed from the blast, but it wasn't really damaged. Similarly, my cyan coat was a little mussed, but there weren't any cuts or anything. Nothing at all seemed out of place. So what was he looking at? I wasn't dressed all that different from him, was I?

On closer inspection, I guess there were a few differences. His garb looked far more worn. Probably not just from the day-to-day wear it saw during his normal routine either. If I had to guess, a lot of his wardrobe was comprised of articles that had either been salvaged from ruins in the wasteland, or acquired second-hoof from other ponies. Even his saddlebags looked like they'd been around for decades longer than the stallion had been alive.

Saddlebags. I looked back at my flanks, and sure enough, I didn't have any saddlebags. My eyes scanned the surrounding area, wondering if perhaps they'd fallen off when I'd taken the hit. They had not. So, unless Diode had collected my things and was now wearing them himself, which was unlikely as I doubted I'd be using something as run-down as those bags when I was wearing a new-looking jumpsuit, I had no saddlebags. Which meant that the only reasonable answer was, “I'm broke,” all I had to my name was the clothes on my back. This boded well. What had I been thinking, coming out here in the first place with no supplies?

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” the amber earth pony sighed, “you're not even armed! Don't you know how dangerous it is out in the Wasteland?

“Are you even real?”

“What? Of course I'm real!” I knew that much at least. I think...

“I'm not so sure anymore. Pretty sure I'm dreaming.”

“What?”

“Oh, come on,” Diode rolled his eyes, “I walk out into the Wasteland and find a beautiful mare, lost, alone, broke; she doesn't even know where she is. But that's okay, because I, the dashing young hero, am here to save the day; for which I'm certain you will be grateful in...all the right ways,” he leaned in close, a grin plastered on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows, “what say we just skip on ahead to the good part,” he reached out with his hoof in an attempt to hook it around my neck. His lips were already puckering up for a kiss.

So I hit him.

Honestly, it seemed like the most reasonable course of action at the time.

“Fucky bunts!” the stallion howled in a rather nasal-rich tone. The blow sent him reeling back onto his haunches as he put his hooves to his throbbing muzzle, “ama bleedin?” he asked, pulling a hoof away to look at it. There was a little blood, yes, but not a whole lot, “ahm bleedin.”

“Still think you're dreaming?”

The stallion glared at me for a long moment, and then sighed, “noh...” he admitted, “buh yeh dinnin haffa hih me so hawd.”

“I barely tapped you, you big baby,” I was rewarded with a rather dubious glare, to which I rolled my eyes, “whatever, let me see that,” I took a step closer to the amber stallion and reached out a hoof. He initially recoiled, but I put on my best reassuring smile and he eventually let me coax him into letting me appraise the injury.

Ooh...okay, so maybe 'tap' had been underselling things. His nose was indeed quite broken. I grimaced slightly and offered a small apology. I hadn't actually meant to hurt the guy. Then I leaned my horn in towards him and touched it to his forehead. There was a soft glow of white light that lasted for a few short seconds, and then the glow vanished. When I pulled back, the caramel stallion was staring at me in abject surprise.

He reached a tentative hoof up and touched his nose, noting that it was once again in its proper shape. Then his eyes looked back up at me, “you...can do healing magic?”

I blinked.

“I guess I can,” to be perfectly honest, I hadn't even thought about what I was doing. He'd been injured, and he needed my help. It had been...instinct, “how does it feel?”

“It's fine,” he said with a tone that suggested he was still a little surprised. Then his features soured with shame, “sorry. For trying to kiss you.”

“Apology accepted.”

“You have to admit that you're a little strange though.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not like that,” Diode backpedaled quickly, as though he anticipated another smack coming his way, “well, sort of like that. I mean, you say you're all the way from Baltimare, which I've never even heard of; but you don't have any supplies on you. You don't know where you are, when you would have had to walk past a hundred signs along to road just to get here, all saying how you were going to Manehattan.

“Do you at least know why you came all the way out here?”

“Of course I do,” my tone was a lot more defensive than I'd intended it to be. I had to admit that he was right, though. In fact, he was even more right than he knew. I remembered where I was from, but not a single second of my trip. I knew nothing about where my supplies could have gone to. I didn't even remember packing for the trip! However, I did recall why I had made it in the first place, “I'm looking for my father, a pony by the name of Leplace.”

“Oh,” the amber pony looked a little more empathetic now, “did something happen to him?”

I shook my head, “I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out,” I explained, “he left weeks ago to visit an old colleague or something, I think. He never came back.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” to his credit, Diode did sound genuinely concerned.

“I'm hoping I can find somepony who saw him and can point me in the right direction.”

The earth pony stallion thought for a moment, “if he came from the same direction you did, then he probably stopped by Friendship City. Either that or Tenpony Tower. Of course, they don't let anypony in there that ain't either important or has a lot of caps,” his eyes darted to my barren withers again, “and you don't have any caps. So, unless you're the reincarnation of the Goddess Celestia come back to Equestria,” he let his words hang in the air as I frowned at him, “then Friendship City it is.

“I'll go on ahead and clear a path,” Diode said after a quick glance back at the pipbuck screen on his leg, “nothing blew up on my way here, but I don't want to take any chances if there really is something wrong with those talismans.”

“Sounds good to me,” I tried my best to smile again, though there were a lot of less than happy thoughts swirling through my head. Questions that I didn't have any answers to that I should have; and that really bothered me, “I try to limit myself to one crippling explosion a day.”

Diode snorted at the little joke, “right,” he leaned down and brushed aside an old newspaper. Beneath it, I saw a rusted metal saucer with a pale blue light glowing on top of it. The stallion reached down and gently tapped the light, causing it to wink out. He glanced over his shoulder and gestured for me to follow in his wake as he cleared a path.

After revealing a half dozen more of the explosives, I felt compelled to ask, “why so many? Are roboponies a really big problem around here?”

“Those crazy robots are a problem everywhere,” the stallion quipped, “but that's not why I did all this. I scavenge them for parts.”

“Are you building something?”

“Me? No,” he shook his head as he disabled another mine, “but the Steel Rangers and the Twilight Society are always in the market for Old World tech. Spark batteries, energy talismans, intact circuit boards; the right ponies will pay a lot of caps for stuff like that if it's in good condition,” he deactivated another mine, “these knock the roboponies out while leaving most of the hardware undamaged.”

“You don't say,” I said a little sourly, surreptitiously rubbing my head.

The stallion looked back briefly over his shoulder, then looked away with a wince, “well, I mean, ideally.”

I glanced around at my surroundings as I followed in Diode's wake. Crumbling buildings, piles of garbage and debris, the occasional skeleton huddled against a wall. It felt...odd. What was more was that I realized it was odd that I should be feeling odd about all of this. I knew that this was what the Wasteland was like. Destruction and devastation that stretched as far as anypony could ever hope to travel in their lifetime in every direction. The whole of the world was like this for all that anypony knew.

Yet I felt now like I was seeing it for the first time.

A side affect of whatever zap that mine had given to my brain? Probably. I'd been out cold for at least a couple of minutes after all.

“Last one,” the stallion proclaimed, holding up another mine and looking back in my direction with a satisfied smile, “smooth sailing from here on out.”

I stopped suddenly. Something wasn't right, and it had nothing to do with the way the buildings around me were making me feel. We were in danger. I wasn't sure how I knew it, but I did. At least two...no, make that three ponies were waiting for us up ahead. They're hearts were brimming with hate, too. They meant to kill the two of us; all they were waiting on was for us to get close enough for them to strike.

Which, I realized in a moment of panic, was just about now!

“Diode, get down!”

Before I knew what I was doing, I leaped onto the amber stallion and tackled him to the ground. At that same moment, a thunderclap rang out through the street and the section of ancient asphalt where Diode had been standing only a moment before was replaced by a crater and an eruption of rocks and dust. I rolled the two of us to the side, flinging the stallion behind an old wagon that had been left derelict on the road. I shot up to my feet, my eyes locked on the shooter. Second floor of the third building on the right. An azure unicorn mare, who seemed quite surprised that I had managed to react so quickly to her shot. Honestly, she wasn't the only one.

I wasn't going to give her a chance to line her rifle up for a follow-up. That weapon was an Ironshod Firearms Model 42 with a twenty-five power scope attachment—how I knew that was a question to be asked at a later time—and a single one of those half inch diameter bullets had enough kinetic force behind it to rip a pony in two. So I broke into a dead sprint, hopeful that Diode had indeed managed to clear away the last of the mines.

Additional pops and cracks of gunfire rang out as the other two members of the little ambush took their shots. My ears twitched at their sounds. A thirty-two pistol and an old rifle that sounded so poorly maintained that it was about as likely to jam as it was to fire. Their powder sounded to have been some sort of poorly imitated home brew as well. The shots were far quieter than they should have been for those weapons, and the rifle even let out a small burp of visible black smoke every time it spat a round at me. The sniper rifle, on the other hoof, had sounded and fired like it had received all the love and attention that a pony could possibly give to a weapon. It was truly a threat.

The unicorn sniper stared at me in stark amazement as she saw me charge towards her, ignoring the other two ponies almost entirely. Then her amethyst eyes grew as large as bloat-sprites as she saw me head not for the stairs inside the building, but instead leap directly from the street below towards the window that she was using as her perch. I hadn't really though anything of it. The window had only been about twelve or so feet from the ground. I'd known that I could easily make such a jump; especially with a running start like I'd had.

My leap had certainly caught the sniper off guard though. She backpedaled frantically, putting all the distance she could between herself and me. Her purple telekinetic field finally began to work the weapon's bolt in order to chamber another round. However, she had been too slow to regain her composure, and before she could bring the rifle to bear, I was already on her.

I cocked my head back and snapped it forward, slamming my skull into the other unicorn's brow. The small room echoed with a resounded 'CRACK' as bone met bone. The other mare grunted and reeled back, her magical hold on the weapon faltering. I wasted no time in seizing it with my own magic. Silver light enveloped the Model 42. I didn't swing it around to fire though, these quarters were far too tight for that with a gun like this. Instead, I chose to follow up my headbutt with a strike from the butt of the rifle. My magic jack-hammered the heavy wooden stock of the weapon into the mare's head three times in rapid succession, rendering her skull into naught but a gelled paste that only barely kept her brains contained within.

This fight wasn't completely over though. There were still two other ponies to deal with. I charged to the window that the now-dead unicorn had been using and poked the rifle out through the opening. My eyes sought out the two other ponies, who had chosen to turn their attention to Diode before checking to see if their companion would need help facing me. A poor choice on their part.

The amber stallion that had only minutes earlier blown me up was offering a rather paltry resistance, it seemed. He was firing over the wagon with a smaller caliber revolver, and he didn't seem to be overly occupied with his aim, as few of his shots landed near their targets. In the back of my mind, I wondered how he'd survived as long as he had in the Wasteland, if that was the way he typically dealt with raider attacks. Meanwhile, I took aim at the pony wielding the old hunting rifle and fired. Even held fast in the steady grip of my magic, the weapon noticeably bucked back as the cartridge detonated.

My aim was true, and I watched with a sense of detached satisfaction as the pavement and wall beyond my target took on a spontaneous crimson hue as blood and brains were smeared across them in a remarkably round pattern. The pony dropped to the ground instantly. Then my attention went to the pistol packing pony, who had gotten caught by the edge of the cone of gore from his companion. He was simply staring at the nearby corpse as I racked back the bolt to load another round.

Only, something felt wrong about the action. It had slid forward too smoothly. Curious, I cracked the bolt back half an inch and peered into the chamber. My lip tightened in a grim frown. The weapon was out of ammunition. My eyes darted back to the dead unicorn on the other side of the room. She might have some more round hidden in one of her pockets somewhere, but I doubted that Diode would survive long enough for me to fish them out and load them. I mean, seriously, that pony wasn't even shooting anymore; and I'd been counting his shots in the back of my mind. He was three bullets in to what should have been at least a six round cylinder for that model of revolver—once more, I'd ponder how I knew that later. Had the weapon impossibly jammed somehow? He wasn't even looking at it if it had. The stallion just rooted around in his saddlebag.

I was preparing to leap down from the window and save him from his own incompetence when I saw him lob three small objects into the air. At first I thought them to be grenades, but he'd hardly thrown them any distance at all. In fact, they hung in the air right above him for a brief moment in a very ungrenade-like fashion. Then my eyes went wide as I watched the three curious little orbs dart towards where the remaining raider pony was hiding. I heard a faint trio of chirps, which I suspected would have been far louder for the raider.

Then he exploded. Or rather, the three orbs hovering around him exploded.

What remained when the smoke from the detonations cleared could best be described as: 'a mess'.

That was the last of the raiders though, the coast was clear for now as far as I could tell. After a moment's thought, I wondered how I'd known that without actually looking around to actually check whether or not the coast was clear. Just another one of those many questions to dwell on later, I suppose. I should probably start writing these down so I don't forget the things that were supposed to be freaking me out when I finally got a spare minute to really analyze today's events.

I frisked through the unicorn mare's gear and pocketed the hoofful of caps that I found. I also loaded all four rifle rounds that I found. One round short of a full load for the weapon, though with the power that this thing packed, that amounted to four very dead ponies that crossed our path. An obviously frequently used cleaning kit was also present in the mare's saddlebags, which explained why it was in such good condition.

After a moment's thought, I simply took the saddlebags themselves as well. I still had no knowledge of where mine had gone, but these would do for a while at least. Nothing much else was really in them, save for some drugs and a few little baubles. Personal affects most likely. One piece did catch my eye though. Among the seemingly useless objects was one that had obviously been treated with a great amount of care: a brass star that smelled faintly of gun oil. Presumably to keep in bright and looking new.

The words, 'Stable 4 Security' where embossed upon the star. Curious, I glanced at the weapon which appeared so new and well maintained. Engraved just below the bolt was the phrase, 'Property of Stable 4 Security Defense Force'. My eyes went to the mare now. She was actually pretty old. Old enough to have been Diodes mother, if I was any judge. What struck me about that most was how worn she didn't look. The scars on her face and legs were fresh, and few in number. She hadn't been raiding very long, and her hooves and teeth were in fair condition. Not those of a pony who'd lived a good four decades or more in the Wasteland.

She'd been born in a Stable, I realized. The reasons why she might have left were many, and I doubted I'd ever discover them. Perhaps they were related to why she'd turned to raiding. Who knew? She had known, I suspected, “but that's a story you'll never tell, isn't it?” I murmured to the dead unicorn, “did you got out looking for somepony too?” she understandably did not reply, “hope you don't mind me borrowing this,” I slung the sniper rifle across my back, “after all, it's dangerous to go it alone.”

I slipped the star back into the saddlebag and jumped out the window. My hooves hit the pavement hard, but I hardly felt the impact in my joints at all. Diode was looking at me with a shocked expression. He was surprised? I was the one who just watched him blow up a pony with hovering grenades!

Why did it bother me that I didn't know what those were? Did it have any relation to why it was bothering me on another level that I'd known the make, model, caliber, and magazine capacity of every other weapon used on this street today? I certainly didn't remember studying firearms back in Bit Town.

“What the hell were those things?” I jabbed a hoof in the direction of the smear on the roadside that had once been a pony.

“I call them 'sprite-grenades',” he said, reaching into his saddlebag to pull one out and hold it up for me to see.

I picked up the small orb with my magic and brought it closer. They were slightly smaller than a typical grenade, and I didn't see any clear arming mechanism on it. What I did see were two gemstones set into one side of it; one sapphire and one amethyst. My lips quirked in a wry smirk when I notices that a crude mouth had been etched beneath the jeweled 'eyes' to give it the appearance of a face. Unable to glean much else from the visual inspection, I returned the device to the stallion. He slipped it back into his bag.

“How do you get them to fly over to targets like that?”

“With these,” He dragged out a couple of bullets from a pouch on the front of his barding. Only, up close they actually didn't look like bullets at all. Where a lead slug should have been was a small purple jewel. A talisman.

“Targeting talismans?” ...how did I know these things?!

Diode nodded, looking impressed that I had made the correct deduction, “yup. I fire a few of these near a target, and the sprite-grenades take care of the rest.”

“That seems like a lot of extra effort to go through to knock off a raider.”

The stallion shrugged and returned the loose rounds to their pouch, “I'm not a very good shot,” he admitted, “and I'm not a fan of getting shot at either. This way, I just put a few bullets near them, and let my grenades do the hard part while I stay behind cover.

“Thanks a lot, by the way,” he added, seeming to only now recall that I'd saved his life earlier, “I'm lucky that you saw them, because I had no idea they were there. If it wasn't for you, I'd have been dead. No doubt there.”

“Yeah, well,” I replied sheepishly. No reason to tell him that I hadn't actually seen anypony either. I'd just sort of...felt them? Something like that. It was pretty impossible to reasonably explain, so I refrained from doing so, “it was the least I could do. How am I supposed to make it to Friendship city without a guide?” I offered the stallion a broad smile.

His eyes went to the rifle strapped across my back, “I see you picked up a weapon of your own?”

“Didn't you know?” I asked with a raised brow, “it's dangerous out here for an unarmed pony.”

Diode smirked at my effort to interject a little bit of humor into the situation, “I'm starting to think that you're not really all that helpless,” he said as his eyes wandered towards the window that the sniper had fired from, “what was that you used to get up there? A spell or...?”

“No, I just jumped up there,” I answered with a shrug, not really thinking that there was any significance. Then I saw the amber stallion's brow nearly turn in on itself as he looked at me with blatant disbelief, “what? It's only twelve feet up.”

He was silent for a long moment as his brain processed what I had said, “...only twelve feet,” he murmured, as though I had spoken in some weird foreign language, “how high can you jump?” the question came out like he was almost afraid to hear the answer.

I thought for a brief moment, “seventeen? Depending on the terrain,” I added as an afterthought, “thirteen feet and four inches is the most I could do on a soft surface like mud.”

“...and four inches...” Diode's head craned up as he visualized how high that would be. Then he looked back at me, “and that's...normal for ponies in Baltimare?”

I blinked. Of course that was...wait. No, it wasn't. A typical pony could manage four feet. One that was of superior fitness an athleticism could peak just above six. How and why I knew that bit of trivia was overshadowed by the implications of what it suggested about my own abilities. I knew, I truly knew that the physiology of most ponies limited them to four or maybe even five feet of vertical clearance during a jump. I also knew, with demonstrative certainty that I could clear at least thirteen under nearly any circumstances.

The hows and the why escaped me, as per the established norm.

“Well,” I finally settled on responding, “I guess it's not really normal, no,” I saw that Diode was looking at me with an expectant expression on his face, silently prompting me to elaborate. The thing about that was that I couldn't. I had no reasonable explanation as to why I was able to do it. Nor, in all honesty, did I owe him one.

“Look, I'm glad I could help,” was all the answer I gave him, admitting to myself that I was pointedly dodging his question, “and thanks for getting me out of your mine field. I should probably get going though. Got to find my father. Go see that doctor,” internally, I was cringing. It felt a little bit like I was running away, and I guess I sort of was. It wasn't like Diode was asking inappropriate questions though. They were just questions that I couldn't answer for the simple reason that I didn't know what the answer was; and I wasn't sure he'd believe that.

I certainly didn't want to lie to the poor guy. After what he'd done for me so far, it wouldn't seem right. He was a genuinely good pony. He had to be to have offered to help like like he did in order to make amends for his own mistake, and not expect a reward out of it. Good ponies deserved honest answers. I couldn't give him any.

My hoof dug nervously at the ground for a brief moment before I finally gathered up the will to turn around and start walking away, “it was nice meeting you, Diode,” I said over my shoulder, “good luck with your robot mining or...whatever.”

“Yeah,” the amber stallion's tone sounded a little surprised, and I detected a faint note of disappointment as well, “um...hope you find your dad.”

“Me too,” and then I looked ahead and continued walking.

The Manehattan ruins stretched for miles in every direction. The decrepit carcass of civilization long gone. At points, you found yourself prompted to stand in awe of your surroundings. Statues, of which enough remained for you to accurate gauge the majesty that it had possessed when it had once been whole and cared for. Shells of buildings that looked like they once could have stood tall enough to brush up against the clouds. Testaments to what ponies could accomplish when they worked together to build something truly great.

Such majesty was overshadowed by the eerie quiet and loneliness that reminded anypony making their way through the ruins that these were indeed nothing more than relics of a bygone past. A grand warning of what could happen when that sense of camaraderie between beings was tarnished.

The shattered city also served as a haven for all manner of monster and villain. The rot come to nest and fester within the corpse of the once great metropolis. Those three bandits that had tried to prey upon Diode and I were only the tip of the iceberg. Much worse horrors were known to be lurking in this place.

I quirked my lip as that thought occurred to me.

Wasn't this supposed to be the first time that I'd ever come to Manehattan? Especially since I hadn't even known that this was Manehattan until less than an hour ago when Diode had told me that's where I was? So how did I know that worse things than bandits lived here? I mean, I knew that there were all sorts of monsters and other mutated creatures that could be found all over the Wasteland; that was sort of general knowledge. Yet, I didn't feel like I was simply making an assumption that there were dangerous things lurking in these ruins. I knew there were. I'd...seen them.

How could I have seen something in a place I'd never been before?

Perhaps now was a good time to really start trying to piece my life back together after Diode's mine had scrambled my memories.

Item the first: Who was I?

That one was easy. I was Iris. I was a unicorn with a light blue coat, vanilla mane, an silver eyes. I came from a small town at the edge of the Baltimare Crater called, Bit Town. I lived there with my father, and I did courier work. All of this knowledge came very easily to me, and I could even visualize most of what I was thinking about. I could clearly remember what the town's cafe looked like, the little general store, and even the bar where most ponies went to spend their evenings. I knew those places, intimately.

Having a firm grasp of my identity, it was time to move on to the second item: Why was I out here?

Also an easy answer. I was out here looking for my father. I could clearly visualize him as well. An older unicorn stallion with a white coat, a thin brown mane that was streaked with white and combed over to the side, and serious looking green eyes. He also had a meticulously trimmed goatee on the front of his chin. He had left home, heading in this direction and I needed to find him because nopony knew where he was.

The third question was going to be a little harder to explain: How did I know so much about guns?

It wasn't just guns either. As I thought about it, I knew all sorts of things about weapons in general. I could tell somepony the exact oscillation frequency that an energy pistol's focusing ruby needed to have in order to keep the beam coherent enough to inflict potentially lethal tissue damage on a pony at a distance of up to thirty yards. I knew the number of twists that the rifling of the barrel of an IF-14 Thoroughbred assault rifle had. For Celestia's sake, I knew how many grains of gunpowder you needed to put into the cartridge of a forty-caliber slug so that the sound it made going through a silencer stayed below fifteen decibels.

Who the fuck knew that sort of thing?!

Certainly not courier ponies that wandered through the Wasteland without so much as a fucking utility knife!

Diode had been right about one thing: I made no sense. I was a lone mare strolling through the ruins of a city that I'd never been to before, but knew had nests of dangerous monsters—manticors, I vividly recalled now—and I was doing that without weapons or any supplies of any kind.

The only reasonable conclusion I could draw was that I must have been robbed before I stepped on the mine? I suppose that would explain why I didn't have any gear, but I was hard pressed to come up with a guess as to who could have pulled that off. Not to toot my own horn, or anything, but it turned out that I was a bit of a bad-ass. Apparently I could leap through second story windows from the ground and make head-shots on moving targets while barely having to even look through the scope. If I'd been armed before I was robbed, I found it unlikely that whoever could have pulled it off would have had any reason to leave me alive.

I kept trying to ply my brain for answers about when and where I would have learned so much about guns. It was like hitting a brick wall though every time I tried to recall if I'd had some friend or family member who might have taken me out to a firing range. There wasn't even anypony I could remember who might have own a weapons shop in Bit Town that I might have spent a lot of time with.

It was really weird actually, the more that I thought about it. I knew all about the layout of Bit Town, and the buildings that existed there. In my mind's eye, I could even plot the floor plans of every structure. However, I couldn't actually come up with a single name of anypony that lived there. Not even a face. There was me, my father...I think? Wait, where did we live? I lived in Bit Town, I knew that with resolute certainty. I lived in Bit Town, there was no doubt in my mind about it in the slightest.

The problem was: I didn't have a house there. I knew every hut and shack, and none of them belonged to me. I couldn't say which pony lived or worked in any given building, but I knew that none of them were where I stayed.

How was that possible?

Before I could delve too far down that particular trail of thought, I felt a sense of foreboding in the back of my mind that had nothing to do with my memory troubles. Something was nearby, and it wasn't friendly. It was also coming at me from behind!

The IF-42 slung across my back was off and in the air, wrapped in a silver magical glow before I'd even finished turning around. My eyes widened in fright as I caught sight of the humongous winged feline descending towards me from above. Seeing that I was aware of its attack, the beast discarded its attempt at a stealthy approach and let out a bellowing roar that chilled my blood. Two well muscled arms were reaching out for me. Each of those arms was tipped by a set of four razor-sharp claws as long as my own hoof. I didn't even really have time to think, only to react; and that reaction was to fire the weapon hovering at my side.

A cacophonous explosion reverberated between the structural husks that flanked my path, and the weapon bucked rebelliously in my my telekinetic grip as it was wracked by the recoil of the shot. The left side of the scorpion-tailed flying behemoth's chest buckled only slightly as a result of the impact. Such a minor reaction was deceptive, however. The sudden cessation of its guttural cry was a far more telling reaction. As was the sudden loss of all of the tension in its muscles.

I sidestepped as the airborne corpse fell to the street in a twisted pile of limbs and wings. There wasn't a lot of time to admire my work though, for this monster had not come alone. He'd brought friends.

The bolt of my rifle was already flinging the spent casing into the air and sealing a fresh round into the chamber as my eyes sought out the next most immediate threat. This manticor had already made landfall, choosing to come at me from the ground while his comrade pounced down from above. He was already approaching quickly, likely having started his charge long before I'd become aware of their presence. Even now, knowing that he was coming for me, I could only barely hear the pads of his clawed feet hitting the ground. Quite impressive for such a massive creature as itself.

My eye twitched for just a moment as I noticed its stride shift ever so subtly. It brought both of its hind feet together and coiled its calves far more heavily that it had previously. Anticipating the reason for the change, I too coiled up and waited for the opportune moment.

As expected, the feline monstrosity sprang into a leap, intent on landing on my spine and crushing me completely beneath its more massive weight. The moment I saw its hind legs leave the ground, my own propelled me forward. The same unexplained muscular force that had allowed me to reach an absurd height only an hour prior now afforded me the an uncanny burst of forward acceleration. I felt the street below my hind legs curiously seem to give way slightly as I commanded my legs into action.

I was not running so much as I was riding out a very linear long jump. Nor was I upright for most of it. Soon after pushing forward, I twisted my body in the air. The manticor was taken completely off guard by the maneuver, as he had in no way expected his prey to be able to move with such impressive acceleration and speed. As he went sailing overhead, I went sliding below, looking up from my backside at his belly. The barrel of my weapon was almost touching the monster's navel as I fired off my second shot.

The manticor's spine was torn asunder in a horrific geyser of organs an vertebrae. Death for this poor bastard would not be instantaneous, as it had been for the other. As the momentum of my backside slide died away, I looked over and saw the miserable creature clawing at the ground with its forepaws as it yowled in pain and rage. It's hindquarters didn't move at all, and looked to be barely attached to the rest of its torso. The rapidly expanding pool of blood suggested that it was not going to continue suffering for very long.

The bolt of my weapon slipped the third round into the chamber as I rolled back up onto my feet, only to find that a third manticor was already upon me. It was a near thing that I managed to interpose the rifle between myself and the powerful swipe of the creature's paw. A second slower, and I might have been reduced to five nearly equally sized pony slices. As it was, my magic wasn't powerful enough to hold the weapon fast against the swing. While I managed to keep the claws from rending my flesh, the sheer force of the blow was enough to send both myself and the rifle tumbling right to the other end of the street.

When I finally came to a stop, I couldn't tell if my ears were ringing because of the hit that I'd just taken, or because my faltering magical hold of the sniper rifle had unintentionally manipulated the trigger mechanism as I had tried in vain to retain control of it. In either case, I was not given a lot of time to consider those possibilities, as that third manticor was already flying towards me to get in a second hit. My eyes locked on to a nearby street sign that had at some point become detached from its station at an intersection. I narrowed my eyes at it and reached out with my magic. The old steel sign would not be much, but it would offer more protection from the manticor's attacks than paltry pony flesh and bone would.

I was gripped by a moment of panic as my magic refused to take hold. The sign only gave the slightest tremor, but refused to lift up into the air at my defense, regardless of how desperately I willed it to. A dull pain was radiating from the front of my head, which grew the harder I tried. I must have hit my horn on something when I was catapulted across the street.

That moment of panic expanded into an eternity of outright dread as I realized that my effort to secure the sign as an improvised weapon had cost me too many precious seconds to attempt a second strategy. The manticor was nearly upon me, and I was completely helpless. Instinctively, I reared up and crossed my hooves in front of my body in an effort to offer up some form of defense; knowing that effort would be futile, at best.

My body was mercilessly tackled backwards into the crumbling building behind me as the aerial feline made contact. I felt the very surface of the old wall tremble as my head and spine collided with it in a painful crunch. One of its massive paws was all it had taken to pin me to the brickwork. My vision blurred for a moment as my senses seemed to lose all focus as a result of the impact. I looked up at the monster, and forced my features into a defiant glare as I saw its triumphant face. It had succeeded where its other two fellows had failed and subdued the prey, and that pride was clear on its face.

What was also clear on its face, I noticed, was something small, and pink, and glittering just above its brow. My dedicated look of rebellion in the face of my own demise gave way to dumbfounded curiosity as my eyes focused on the anomalous little speck of color that had no business being on a manticor's face. Then my gaze was drawn by the feline's upraised paw, as it drew back to deliver the killing blow. It was not the only motion that caught my focus either. That paw had company, in the form of a floating metal orb with a ruby and topaz embedded on one side.

I immediately looked away, discarding any sense of stubborn defiance. While I'm sure that the manticor may have regarded that final act my own pride giving way to my fear, it did not entertain such thoughts for long. Credit where it was due: Diode's knowledge of shaped charges was impeccable. A fact for which I was incredibly grateful when the interloping sprite-grenade detonated.

That wasn't to say that I emerged from the ordeal completely unscathed. While the very lethal shrapnel of the explosive looked to have been directed almost entirely at the feline monster's head, the raw concussive pressure wave still played hell with my senses. My hearing had diminished significantly, and even my eyes seemed to physically hurt. Despite all of that though, I was very much alive; a fact that I was not at all ungrateful for.

I carefully pried away the paw whose weight still had me pinned up against the wall. My gaze shifted occasionally to the remains of the manticor's neck; which was all that remained of the monster above the torso. To the right was the blotchy stain that had once been all of the components of its head.

With the paw out of the way, I eased myself out the the crease in the wall that had been created by the impact. A glance at the mangled brickwork suggested that it was a miracle my spine had not been shattered by the ordeal. Frankly, I didn't feel like I was hurting nearly as much as I should have been. It was probably just the adrenaline I was still riding. By this time tomorrow, I was probably going to be unwilling to twitch so much as a fetlock. I eased myself onto my hooves and looked around for my rifle.

It wasn't laying all that far away. Tentatively, I tried one again to lift it with magic. As before, I saw a smattering of telltale shimmers that suggested the telekinetic field wanted to form, but simply couldn't completely manifest itself. The mild little headache returned, and so I ceased my efforts, resigning myself to manipulating it back onto my back with teeth and hooves. I briefly inspected the weapon first, ejecting the uselessly spent brass and locking the last remaining round back into the chamber. The action was still smooth, and the barrel wasn't bent. The scope was a lost cause though. At least two of the focusing lenses were cracked, and I was pretty sure that the mounting bracket had been warped slightly. The rifle at least still had its iron sights. I would be able to make do with those in the meantime.

Once the weapon was stowed away, I looked off to my left. It didn't take hardly any effort to find the amber earth pony stallion standing in an open doorway across the street. Even from here, I could see that he was a little shaken. Something told me that he wasn't the type of pony that normally threw himself into a fight with a group of manticors. I guess I was pretty lucky that he'd made an exception in my case.

It had to have been the adrenaline ebbing its way out of my system, because I felt the stupidest grin spreading across my face as I started walking stiffly towards him, “are you even real?”

“Huh?” the stallion cocked his head to the side, not comprehending what I was saying.

“I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming.”

“What are you talking about?” Diode asked, clearly confused by my words.

I continued to close the distance, a lopsided smirk on my face, “Oh, come on. I walk out into the Wasteland, only to get blown up by a handsome stallion,” I saw the earth pony's eyes widen slightly at the compliment, “I'm unarmed, alone, surrounded by vicious pony-eating manticors; but that's okay,” I was almost on top of him now, and I let my tone drop slightly, “because, you, the dashing hero, arrived just in time to save the day.”

Before Diode could react, I leaned in, and kissed him, right on the lips. His initial reaction was to pull back in surprise, but I leaned into the motion to maintain the contact. It took him a couple of seconds, but the stallion eventually responded to it. Not any sort of great technique there, but it wasn't bad. When we finally broke apart, I said, “was that part good enough for you?”

Diode swallowed and licked his lips, still looking a little surprised at what had just transpired, “uh huh,” was all that he got out. His reaction broadened my smile slightly. Well, I am pretty awesome, after all.

Then I made my features take on a playfully serious look, “you weren't following me, were you?”

Either he had missed the humor in my voice, or the earth pony was really good at playing along, because his response sounded authentically defensive, “what? No! I, um...I just sort of figured I already had enough stuff to make going back to Friendship City worth a trip,” he became a little more confident of his response after a thought seemed to occur to him, “I also need to get all new talismans for my pulse mines.

“I wouldn't want you setting them off on your way back north.”

“I bet you say that to all the mares you blow up,” I quipped with a smile, then my tone got slightly more genuinely serious as I cast a glance at the three nearby corpses, “it's probably safer if we travel together though.

“I only have two rounds left,” I nodded my head back towards my rifle, “how are you on grenades?”

It was Diode's turn to frown now, “grenades I've got, and I can put a couple more together if I have to,” he said, “but I'm down to my last three marker talismans, and the sprite-grenades don't work without them.”

“You can't build more of them out here too?” I asked.

He shook his head, “I'd need a press to pack the round, and fresh primers for the brass.”

I nodded, “then we'd best avoid any more manticors if we can,” I suggested, receiving a concurring look from the stallion. In my head, I was considering our options where routes were concerned. Honestly, the city ruins were just downright dangerous. Its advantage was that it offered a more direct route. We could be there long before nightfall on our current heading. The trouble was that we were all but certain to run into more monsters and/or bandits. Another option was to get out of the city and go around it on our way to the harbor and Friendship City.

That would take all the remainder of today, and likely a fair chunk of tomorrow as well. It would be a little safer though. As long as we kept to cover and were vigilant, we could avoid most of the trouble that existed in the open Wasteland. It's not like I was on any sort of timetable. Another day spent hiking through the Wasteland wasn't going to make my father's trail grow any colder.

“We'll head south, out of the city, and loop around,” I informed him, heading in that direction as I spoke. Diode followed my lead. As we passed by the building that the manticor had pinned me to, I noticed the stallion's eyes linger on the imprint that had been pounded into the brickwork

“Are you sure you're okay?” he asked, sounding as though he found the concept difficult to believe.

“A little stiff,” I admitted, adding, “my magic's on the fritz too. Took a blow to the head.”

“Do you think you'll be alright?”

I shrugged, “my horn's not broken, so I should be okay. I'll be good to go by morning at the latest,” you'd think that a unicorn would be a lot more concerned with magical failure, but for some reason I felt like I simply knew that the problem was transitory, and would indeed resolve itself by morning. Did I often lose my ability to do magic for periods of time?

Some day I was going to wake up, and all of my memories were going to be restored, and the world was going to make a lot more sense to me.

Celestia, please let that happen soon...

This kind of thinking was leaving me feeling rather unsettled, so I decided to distract myself, “so, Diode,” I began with an amiable tone, “how'd you get into the robot salvaging business?”

“Hm? Oh,” he sounded a little surprised by the suddenness of my interest, but answered me anyway, “it just sort of happened, I guess,” he shrugged, “my father sold weapons in Friendship City, and my mother fixed up little things like radios and hot plates,” a wan little smile touched his lips and his eyes unfocused as he thought back o those memories, “I was raised with one hoof in the armory, and another in the repair shop.

“I got my cutie mark the day I built a little pulse gun,” he glanced at the vacuum tube brandished on his flank, “it wasn't very powerful, and it was embarrassingly power inefficient; but it was pretty fun to use around my mother's shop,” that wan smile grew a little wider, “whenever she finished a project, I'd hide in the corner and give it a little zap the moment she turned it on to see if it worked right. It'd turn right back off and she wouldn't understand why. She'd take it apart all over again and start over,” a small laugh escaped his lips, “my dad caught me doing that once. He whooped my ass good. Then asked to see the gun.

“A month later he was building and selling a much better version of it in his shop.”

“Sounds like you had a pretty good childhood,” I remarked, “what are your parents doing now?”

There was a pause, and the stallion's face grew dark, “they're dead.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” I cringed, sorry to have touched on such a sore topic, “what happened?”

“They were murdered,” a cold edge crept into his voice now, “by the old Friendship City sheriff.”

“What?” my eyes widened with surprise, “why'd he do something like that?”

“Because my dad wouldn't be bullied by him,” he replied tersely. At my prompting look, he elaborated, “like I said, my father ran a gun shop in Friendship City. Well, the sheriff there thought that being the sheriff meant that he got to just take whatever guns he wanted for himself and his deputies. He called it 'eminent domain', and said my father had a responsibility to make sure the defenders of the city had the best weapons available.”

“Shouldn't they?” I asked hesitantly, seeing that this was obviously a sensitive topic and not wanting to antagonize the stallion unduly. However, I could see the logic behind wanting the defenders of a town to have the best equipment available.

“The deputies had top rate guns already, and received discounts on repairs, just for that reason,” he confirmed, “and, on top of that, Friendship City has been attacked by large groups of raiders and monsters in the past,” Diode continued, “and when that happens, every arms vendor always passes out every gun and bullet they can spare. If everypony dies, who's going to buy their guns, right? This wasn't anything like that though. The sheriff wanted to just take even more guns than he needed so that he could sell them as 'surplus' and pocket the caps.

“It was outright theft.”

It did sound that way, “and your father wouldn't go along with it?”

“He did at first,” Diode said bitterly, “all the vendors did. But one day he said, 'no'. He'd had enough of it.

“That night, somepony broke into the store. We lived above it, so my mom and dad heard the burglar. They went down to stop him, but...” he shook his head, “officially,” Diode just about spat the word out of his mouth, “they never found who was responsible. Then, at the funeral, I heard the sheriff mention to another gun merchant that if his officers only has the necessary equipment, they could make sure nothing like this ever happened again. But if any others refused to give him what he asked for...he said that he couldn't make any promises something like that break in wouldn't happen again.

“That was when I knew what had really happened.”

“He'd been the burglar,” I concluded.

“Or one of his deputies acting on his orders,” the stallion amended, “I doubt that sheriff would ever have gotten his own hooves dirty like that.”

There was a long moment of silence, then I posed, “so are you going to be okay going back to that city?”

He blinked, confused for a moment, then shook his head, “all of this happened years ago. He's not even the sheriff anymore. He died not too long after.”

“Somepony got tired of putting up with his corruption?” I ventured.

“Maybe,” Diode shrugged, “they ruled it an accident. His house blew up one night,” at my surprised look, he allowed a faint smile to touch his cheek, “probably a fault with one of the spark batteries in his bedroom,” he explained, sounding rather confident about the location of the explosion's source and epicenter, “they can be dangerous if they somehow get wired the wrong way.”

“I'll bet,” I agreed, my eyes lingering on his for a moment longer. He didn't say it outright, of course, but nor was he leaving any reason to doubt that he'd been responsible for that explosion that killed the sheriff either. I certainly wouldn't have held it against him after hearing that story. In fact, it was actually rather comforting to know that I was traveling with a pony that was willing to take action.

“What about your parents,” The amber earth pony asked, “what do they do?”

“Well, Leplace, my dad,” I began, “he's a doctor. As for my mother, she...um,” my train of thought slipped the track abruptly as I found myself running headlong into a mental block. A little ball of panic form in the pit of my stomach and began to grow dramatically in size the more I thought about it.

I had no memory of my mother. None at all. Not a name, not a face, not even a breed of pony to associate her with. Could that possibly be right? Was it possible that I had never once in my life ever known my own mother? I suppose it wasn't something unheard of, I concluded. I noticed Diode, watching me for an answer.

“she died in foaling,” I finally finished. There was every likelihood that I wasn't lying about that. It was certainly an answer that explained why I didn't know anything about her. I didn't get the sense that it was the answer though.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Diode replied somberly, “I'm sure it was rough for your father, raising you alone.”

I forced a smile onto my face, “he did alright, I think,” internally, I was searching for memories of my upbringing that would not come. That ball of panic doubled in size. What was wrong with me?!

“No argument here,” the stallion agreed, smiling as well. His was a lot more genuine that mine was.

We continued to chat during the rest of our trek that night. I was very conscious about keeping the topics of the conversation away from myself and my past, as thoughts about those things only served to stress me out further. I desperately hoped that the doctor in Friendship City could do something for me when we got there. In the meantime, I plied Diode for all the information that I could get about the layout and politics of the area. He told me about how some pony with red eyes was making a lot of noise out near Fillidelphia, and about a unicorn that was jumping about the Wasteland getting themselves into all sorts of trouble.

“DJ Pon3 talks about them all the time,” Diode went on, “tells everypony how much they're helping the Wasteland, and about all the good they're doing.”

“You don't sound convinced,” I couldn't help but notice.

“I don't know,” the stallion shrugged, “it just all sounds a bit far fetched. I mean, the Stable Dweller's just one pony, right? How can one little pony do all of the things that DJ Pon3 says they're doing? It all just feels like a bunch of fairy tales meant to give us hope.”

“And if they are?” I asked. Diode blinked at me, so I continued, “what's wrong with that? Hope, I mean.”

“Nothing, I guess,” he said, not sounding thoroughly convinced, “but a story can only maintain hope for so long, I think. If it ever got out that those things were all really just a lie, it'd drag everypony down further than they already were.

“I'd like to believe that those stories are all true though. It'd be nice if somepony could fix things around here.”

“Just so long as it's not you?” I arched a brow, curious about his response.

He shook his head, “I'm not cut out to be a hero,” he said dismissively, “I just take apart robots and sell their pieces. Not exactly super-pony material like the Stable Dweller is.”

“You think you need to be born a hero or something?”

Diode thought about it for a moment, a slight frown on his face, “I think you need to be born with certain qualities that a hero needs,” he emphasized, “like being big, and strong, and smart; that sort of thing,” he looked at me for a moment, “like you, actually.”

That last statement took me by surprise, causing my head to whip around to look at him and let the stallion see my puzzled expression, “I'm none of those things,” I insisted emphatically. My eyes traced him from head to hoof, “heck, you're taller than I am,” and he was, by a couple inches at least.

“Maybe,” he conceded, “but don't forget that I've seen you in action. I watched you leap twenty feet in the air-”

“Twelve,” I corrected immediately.

“Oh, my mistake,” he snorted with a roll of his eyes, “a mere twelve feet in the air. I also watched you fight off three manticors at once,” he continued, “to include that little super-speed thing you did with the second one. For a 'courier pony', you're also a natural with that rifle that you just picked up today,” his tone suggested that he was becoming dubious where my professed vocation was concerned, “deny it all you want,” he chided, “but I've never seen a pony do the sorts of things you've done.

“You should join up with the Stable Dweller,” he proposed with a joking smile, “you two might be all that's needed to fix the Wasteland.”

“If you're trying to flatter me into giving you a second kiss, you're wasting your time,” I retorted, reveling in the blush that colored the stallion's cheeks and the little stammered denials that he tried to get out, “I only give those out for life-saving heroics.

“Save my life three times, and there's even a secret bonus prize,” I wiggled my eyebrows and gave him a gentle brush with my tail. My reward was the sight of Diode's blush spreading up to his ears. This stallion was so entertainingly bashful. I wondered how he'd respond if he found out that I was only half joking?

Hey, if this pony did manage to save my life on three separate occasions, he'd have fucking earned it!

But at least it got him off the topic of my inexplicably superior physical abilities. The less I was reminded about how weird I was, the less it bothered me. I had quite a few things plaguing my mind as it was without adding to them.

I caught Diode looking up at the darkening overcast sky, “we should think about finding shelter for the night,” he said. My eyes followed his, studying the perpetual cloud layer that blanketed the world. Judging by the amount of light still lingering in them, the sun had set just over an hour ago. Shelter might not be a bad idea.

We found an old bridge that had once afforded passage across a stream. The stream was no longer there though. Frankly, there wasn't much of the stone bridge left either. There was a little bit of overhang jutting over either bank, but the rest of the span lay in a rocky heap between the two ends. Diode and I shucked our packs beneath one of them. The stallion produced a bottle of Sparkle-Cola, a tin can, and a small wrapped snack cake from one of his bags. His eyes passed to me briefly and then he pulled out a second bottle and a box adorned with an explosion of faded colors that had likely once been quite vibrant. He offered those to me.

I reach out for them at first, but then hesitated, “actually,” I shook my head, “I'm not feeling very hungry right now.”

“Really?” the stallion sounded skeptical. He made no move to retract the offered meal, “I haven't seen you eat all day, and I' starving.”

“I'm good,” I insisted. I wasn't lying to him either. I genuinely wasn't feeling very hungry or thirsty. Honestly, I wasn't even tired. It was probably still a little hormone holdover from those fights earlier. By the morning, I was probably going to be absolutely famished. Yet, for now, the prospect of a meal wasn't doing anything for me.

Diode held my gaze for a little bit longer, but when he saw that I was showing no sign of changing my mind any time soon, he relented and returned the offered food to his pack, “suit yourself,” he popped the cap off of his soda bottle and pocketed it before taking a long swig of the contents. A yawn escaped his mouth, only half stifled, “you might as well go ahead and get some sleep then. I'll take first watch while I eat.”

“Nah, that's alright,” I said, starting to head up to the remains of bridge in order to get a good view of the surrounding land, “I'm not feeling very tired either.”

“Super pony,” I heard the amber earth pony remark under his breath as he watched me ascend. If he had been reluctant to accept that I wasn't hungry, it didn't look like he was at all inclined to argue about who was going to need to wait to get some rest.

I let out a small snort of barely contained amusement as I settled into a good lookout position. I wasn't a super pony. I was just still riding the adrenaline. That was all there was to it. I was sure I'd be back down there in no time once my fatigue finally caught up with me. Besides, the solace would give me time to think over a few more of my own mysteries.

So, no mother. That was interesting. It wasn't just that I couldn't bring up a mental image of her. That could easily be explained by her having actually died while I was still a young foal. That was a thing that happened in the Wasteland. However, this was more than that. I didn't just not have a memory of my mother, I was completely lacking in having the concept of having had a mother. Intellectually, I had never had a mother. That was one of those things that I knew. Which was ridiculous, since I'd had a father. Leplace was my father. I had a father. So, I had to have had a mother too, right?

Nope. I had not. That was what my brain was telling me. Which was stupid. Everypony had a mother.

I didn't, my brain once more insisted.

Again, that was just plain stupid. If I didn't have a mother, then where did I come from?

The mental response that came right to mind was: Baltimare.

That's just the place that I came from. I was asking for where I'd come from in a biological sense.

…

No answer for that one. Brilliant. So all I was was a pony with a father who was from the Baltimare area? Wasn't that just dandy.

I really hoped that there was something the doctor in Friendship City could do for me when we got there tomorrow.

Hours ticked by in the silent night. With the passing of each, I expected my fatigue to finally catch up with me and motivate me to wake the slumbering stallion below. Yet, that did not happen. What did happen was that I heard a sound that caused me to jump right up to my feet and begin to scrutinize my surroundings. It hadn't lasted long enough for me to quite pin down what it had been, but it had sounded close. I waited for the uncanny sixth sense of mine to kick in and point me at the threat, but nothing like that was happening.

Then I heard the sound again. I was coming from somewhere below me.

Diode!

I felt a sense of panic at the thought of something or somepony having managed to sneak past me and gotten to the stallion. Without a second more of hesitation, I vaulted off the end of the bridge and landed amidst the stretch of stones that had once been a bridge. I spread my hooves and allowed for a generous bend of my knees to keep my landing as silent as possible so as not to tip off whatever was creeping towards the earth pony.

Only, there was nothing there. Diode was laying alone, curled up around his saddlbags as though they were a security blanket, and he was alone. There wasn't so much as a radroach near him. So then what had I heard?

My question was answered almost as soon as it was formed when I saw the amber stallion twitch and mumble something. I hadn't quite been able to make it out, but it was definitely the sound that I had heard earlier. Seeing that there was in fact no threat that had somehow bypassed my guard, I was able to breath a sigh of relief. For a few seconds, I continued to stand there, idly considering waking the stallion so that he could take his turn at the watch. The night was about half over now. It was only fair for him to relieve me. Even if I felt no more tired now that I had at the onset of the evening.

Another mumble escaped the slumbering earth pony's lips, accompanied by a violent twitch, “...don't go...” I heard him quietly plead, as though other words had preceded the utterance, “...he'll kill you...”

I quietly approached the sleeping Diode. I reached out a gentle hoof and softly placed it on his shoulder, “Diode?”

The earth pony jerked with a start, “...no!”

His eyes were wide and frantic for a moment, searching desperately in the darkness for something, or somepony that he'd sworn had been there only a second ago. When he found only me, he visibly relaxed and allowed himself to lay back down on the ground, a frown embedded on his face, “sorry,” he grumbled, “bad dream.”

“Sounded like it,” I offered a comforting smile.

“My turn for watch?”

I shrugged, “if you want it,” I told him, “I'm still not feeling tired.”

He shook his head and stifled a yawn as he got to his feet, “super pony or not, you need to get at least some sleep tonight,” he insisted, “I'll take the rest of the night. You go ahead and get some shut eye. I'll wake you at dawn.

“Alright,” I conceded, kneeling down as he finished getting up. I offered him my rifle, but he declined, citing that he wasn't very accurate with such weapons. Having seen his shooting the previous day, I was inclined to agree that he likely wasn't. He'd wake me if there was any trouble though.

“Hope you sleep better than I do,” Diode offered before heading up onto the bridge.

“I'll try.”

I made myself comfortable, closed my eyes, and then opened them again.

Off to the east I could just make out the first telltale glimmers of light that suggested a sun existed beyond the cloud layer. Dawn had arrived. I sat up and rose to my feet. A quick glance upward confirmed that Diode was still keeping watch, quietly humming a little tune to himself. I collected all of our gear, grateful to see that my magic seemed to be working flawlessly again and not causing the least bit of discomfort, and carried it up with me.

Diode whipped his head around in surprise at my approach, “wow, you're up early,” he remarked.

“It's dawn,” I inclined my head eastward.

The stallion followed my gaze and narrowed his eyes at the faint sliver of slightly brighter clouds, “I guess so, technically, yeah,” he looked back at me and accepted his saddlebags, “quiet sleeper and a punctual riser,” he sounded rather impressed, “I didn't hear you so much as roll over in your sleep even once,” he reached in and dug out some food for the two of us, “bet you're ready for breakfast?”

Honestly, I wasn't. On the other hoof, I knew that I hadn't eaten at all yesterday to the best of my knowledge. Hungry or not, it was best to eat something. I didn't want to collapse from starvation just because my body wasn't telling me things that it should have.

So this time I accepted the box of what turned out to be some sort of breakfast cereal call, 'Sugar Apple Bombs!' and a bottle of cola. I tried the cereal first, tossing back a hoofful of the red and green spheres; and nearly choked to death for my efforts. The amount of raw sugar in those things was absolutely outrageous! How could anypony stand those things?! I quickly grabbed up the Sparkle-Cola with my magic and poured back a hefty amount to wash that sweetly sour taste out of my mouth. However, the soda must have gone down the wrong pipe or something, because that just made me cough even harder.

Diode's face shifted between a look a genuine concern for my well being, and a barely contained mirth as he watched what I'm sure was an absolute comedy of errors put on by a mare who looked to have lost all capacity to eat like a grown pony. When my fit of hacking and coughing was behind me, and it was obvious that I would in fact survive at least the next few minutes of my life—death from embarrassment not withstanding—he flashed a broad grin, “so, no seconds then?”

The stallion recoiled and ducked his head as several sugary missiles clad in silver auras assaulted his face.

It was nearly noon when we finally arrived at the Manehattan harbor, and the mainland end of the massive bridge that would permit us entry into the island sanctuary that was Friendship City. The bridge itself had already been extended to allow for a small caravan of brahmin and their pony drivers to leave, and it didn't take much talking to gain ourselves entrance. Diode was a familiar face in the city, and the guard all but waved the two of us through with barely a word spoken. Once inside, I allowed myself to feel a sense of relief at having finally arrived somewhere that was nominally safe. Hopefully I would even find somepony here that might have caught sight of my father and be able to point me in his direction.

First things first though, and that was a trip to this doctor that Diode had mention. The pony that had wandered in from a Wasteland Stable and set up shop. My earth pony guide was even able to point me the way. He was also gracious enough to accompany me, knowing that I was severely lacking in caps to pay for any real sort of treatment that migh be needed beyond my initial exam to determine what was wrong with my head.

Fowler's Clinic.

That was the name that had been painted above the doorway anyway. To either side was a trio of pink butterflies, the universal symbol for medical care in the Wasteland. Diode followed me inside, and the two of us were greeted by an older unicorn mare wearing a faded yellow dress. She favored us with a broad smile and a nod, “what can we do for the two of you today?”

“Doctor Fowler?” I inquired with a tilt of my head.

The older mare shook her head with a chuckle, “oh, no, dearie, I'm just his assistant. The doctor's with a patient right now,” she indicated a door leading further into the clinic, “but he should be finishing up shortly.

“Do you have a message for him?”

“Oh, no,” I waved my hoof at the question, “I'm just a walk-in.”

Diode felt compelled to jump into the conversation now, “she got caught in one of my pulse mines, and it shook her up pretty good,” the stallion explained a little sheepishly.

“Scrambled my memories a little,” I nodded, frowning, “I'm hoping he can do something.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” the nurse offered a sympathetic smile, “why don't you just have a seat right over there and I'll go see how much longer the Doctor will be.”

“Thank you,” I said and obediently took a seat. The nurse ducked through the back door and disappeared. Diode tapped his hoof nervously on the floor, looking around. I glanced at him, “don't like doctors?”

“No,” he insisted. Then after a brief pause, he added, “I'm just not a fan of needles.”

I simply smiled and nodded my head, my eyes going back tot he door. Less than a minute later, the receptionist mare came back out, another pony in her wake, “thanks a lot, Doc,” the green earth pony said, stepping rather gingerly on a foreleg that was wrapped up around the fetlock with an elastic bandage.

“Just try to stay off that hoof as much as possible for about a week, okay, Ballpoint?” a third pony, a unicorn stallion, said from beyond the door, “otherwise you'll just be back in here again before the month is out,” he finally came fully out into the room where I could get my first good look at him, “not that I wouldn't mind taking more of your money, but really, this is getting ridiculous.”

“You got it, Doc,” the bandaged pony nodded, waving the injured hoof in goodbye as he limped out the door. He quickly winced as the gesture caused him pain.

“Now, who's next on my docket?” the physician pony said, locking his eyes on me.

“This poor thing had a run-in with a pulse mine and it...”

I paid no attention to the unicorn mare as she related my case to the doctor. My attention was firmly fixed on the unicorn stallion that was looking at me, and his emerald eyes. Eyes that I instantly recognized. Eyes that I could picture clearly in my head, belonging to a pony that I knew so well.

This stallion didn't fit the picture perfectly. His mane was a little thinner, and a little grayer as well. The neatly trimmed goatee had been permitted to grow out and spread along his jawline, but the bone structure of the face was unmistakable. Why he was calling himself 'Fowler', I couldn't imagine. But I'd known him by a few other names back in Baltimare. Most specifically, “Dad?”

The white stallion balked slightly at the word. Then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “I see what you mean by memory damage,” he chuckled. It was a kind laugh though, a sympathetic one. He leaned in close and offered a comforting smile, “I'm afraid you've got me confused with somepony else, young lady.”

I shook my head, my face set in determined lines. Why was he saying that? “no, you're my dad,” I insisted, “don't you recognize me? It's me, your daughter, Iris!” it had only been a month at the outside since he'd left. Surely I couldn't have changed that much in such a short time.

“Iris?” he seemed to mull the name around in his mouth, sounding rather perplexed by it at first. Then I saw something change deep within those green eyes. A glimmer of recognition, followed by...fear? He was terrified of something, but what?

Diode looked between the two of us, stunned. Then he glanced at the white unicorn, “you're Leplace?”

That look of fear blossomed into outright terror. That name indeed meant something to the doctor, as the amber earth pony's use of it drew the older stallion's full attention to him. Then I heard the barest utterance from the doctor. It was only a single word, spoken softly, as though it were meant to be a prayer. The disbelieving prayer of a condemned pony.

“No...”

Then everypony in the room was deafened by a mighty thunderclap. Somepony could have been forgiven for thinking that a bomb had been detonated in the small clinic's reception area as everypony's eardrums were violently assaulted by the sound. Even I recoiled away from the unexpected noise. When I looked back, I felt a mixture of shock and horror. A cold, desperate, sorrow that would know no peace so long as I lived.

My father, was dead.

Author's Note

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