Endless Legend

by Drakkanien

Rating: teen
Tags: Science Fiction, Adventure, Crossover
Length: 7756

Our world is dying, we need to do everything in order to survive... Or preserve memory of us.

Auriga.

She is many things, she has been many things. Warm and green, cold and grey. Devastated and dying. Now she's alive again, but we imitate those who were before us. Some of us claim mountains or the forests, or build fortresses on the plains. We begin to mistrust, and prepare for war… Still, she loves us as only a mother can, she fear for us. Winds of change began to blow, but this time it may be all-out storm. She pray for us, that we will be able to weather this storm. For nothing is immortal, and one day we will have to survive without her…

Our world is dying. Everything indicates that prophecy, preached so many centuries ago will fulfil itself. It began with a long and severe winters, with terrified animals fleeing south. And now we face brink of our own extinction. Starved and desperate we are forced to use all means to ensure the survival of our culture. Other's won't stand idly as we struggle against very nature. We are prepared for conflict. But we all know that the Cataclysm is coming… And it's inevitable.

[size=0.75em]MLP:FiM crossover with Endless Legend.[/size]
[size=0.75em]Knowledge about Endless Universe is not needed, it will, of course, help you understand things more easily.[/size]
[size=0.75em]I adore comments and value them above all else. Dialogue between author and reader is one of the best and most valuable things one can do to writer.[/size]

[size=0.75em]I own nothing.[/size]

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-04-21 14:46:10 UTC

Prologue

“...that's why we say Sumer ponies literally invented modern writing. Wedge-shaped of symbols were much more effective than old and complicated pictorial writings. It wasn't surprising that other cultures quickly abandoned their own scripts for...“ The voice of the Canterlotian Museum guide drilled its way into Storm's skull. His voice had soporific effect on her, with each word uttered by this stallion her eyelids were heavier and heavier, threatening to finally close and plunge filly in world of dreams. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on point of view, there always was somepony fast enough to poke her side with sharp end of quill before she managed to drop off for good.

It was no different this time. Just when her tired eyelids managed to close for one short second, she felt another twinge in her side. Yelping in pain and surprise, filly jumped a little into the air, fluttering her over-sized wings instilling interest in some and peals of laughter in others.

Even their guide looked at her this time.

“Sand Storm,” the said teacher reproachfully. It was surprising that she managed to sound intimidating, yet professional and tactful at the same time . “I understand that your enthusiasm to learn about all these wonderful artifacts from the past expired when we crossed the threshold of the museum, but could you be respectful enough to allow other ponies interested in today lesson  to actually learn something?”

Storm didn't have to look to know that her teacher was looking down at her while raising an eyebrow. Her teacher was always doing it when somepony was romping.

“Yes, Madam Trotter.” Storm replied, hanging her head.

There was shuffling of hooves and quiet thanks exchanged between their guide and Madam Trotter. The group moved to another exhibit and the lecture started again, even if a little faster and less monotone tone.

It wasn't like Storm didn't like history lessons or visiting museums! They were actually pretty fun in her opinion. She could witness with her very own eyes things and items touched and crafted by ponies who died ages ago. She could see certificates of development and power of an ancient civilizations, how ponies lived hundreds and thousands of years ago!

It was creepy and fascinating at the same time.

She smiled broadly and raised her head, the scolding received from her teacher nearly forgotten.

This smile was noticed by another student, a friend of Storm and the very same pony who relished in poking Storm's side with quill.

“Hey double S.” Other filly caught up to Storm. She was levitating an object of winged filly aversion in a soft glow of her pinkish magic. “Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, a bit at this, a bit at that...” Storm answered, wings hugging tighter to her sides. Her eyes never stopped following the quill nib gently sailing through the air next to its owner. She could swear that its tip was smeared with something red.

Cherry offered her friend a merry smile. “Oh, don't be like that Stormy!” Filly teased, hugging her with one leg. That evil quill floated dangerously close to Storm nose. “Don't you tell me you're upset about my attempts to keep you awake!”

That pink filly's smile was truly infectious.

“Maybe I am, maybe I don't.” Storm grumbly swat the offending quill out of the air. She giggled at her petty victory over her foe, yet her triumph was short lived. One look at Cherry's green eyes was enough to shut Storm's mouth and press both ears to her skull.

“Hey!” Cherry objected. “That's my favorite quill!”

“Then why were you are stinging me with it?” Pegasus remarked. “I think you poked a hole in my flank.” Storm's eyed over her side looking for any damage.

“Oh, don't be silly, it can't be that sharp...” Cherry raised the quill, poking the tip herself to demonstrate. “Ow! Pointy!” She stuck her pricked hoof in her mouth.

“See?” Storm insisted.

“Fillies.” Madame Trotter hissed as she walked by the two. Although she had to silence the two for yet another time this day, she couldn't help but smile at them. Storm and Cherry were good friends with one another, and very energetic fillies. Someday, they will grow to become beautiful and smart mares, someday…

Noticing they had been left behind, Cherry and Storm set their eyes and ears downcast as they rushed to rejoin the rest of their class.

Their guide was now exhibiting a big, black obelisk, made of shining and polished metal. Appearing completely unaffected by ravages of time.

“This one is probably one of the most mysterious in our museum.” The guide described, appraising this item more enthusiastically than the last presentations. "It's named Obelisk of Pisa, and was found near the southern border of the Griffin Kingdom. If you don't know where it is, there's a booklet with map inside. If anypony is interested that is."

The guide gestured at a table with a small colorful stack of brochures. “We don't know much about its origins, it's a mystery as to who created it. We suspect that ponies responsible for its creation had to know metallurgy. To what degree? We are not sure.  The material is really hard, stronger than anything we've ever seen. Probably an alloy made of some unknown metal, or possible that it's from fragments of a meteorite. If you look at these carved symbols, for lack of better word, you may notice that they don't resemble any recorded culture in history. That's the most troubling yet exciting thing about it.”

The guide seemed almost giddy at this point. ”We don't know which civilization should be credited for the creation of this obelisk, but there are opinions in the archaeological and historical community that it's a brand new culture, never...”

The guide's words were lost to Storm as the filly stared straight ahead at black obelisk. She walked closer to the red line separating the artifact from the visitors, staring right at it and leaning closer, unable to believe her own eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, yet found no words that could express her surprise.

This pattern, the writing that baffled every scientist in the Canterlot Academy…

She saw it before.

It was said that they were from across the sea. Faraway shores hidden from safe coasts of Equestria, was their home. A land so distant that no pony has ever ventured, not even the swiftest of pegasi or mightiest of ships were able to reach it. Shores of their homeland unfriendly to any sailor, bristling with spikes of rock and ice, impossible for Equestrian vessels to land.

They said that they came from the Wilderness of Terror, where they arose as foals, born from dark thoughts and curses, different from other Shadows, because in all similar to ponies.

They said that they crawled from beneath the earth. Cruel golems made from filth and clay, controlled by some unknown power.

They said a lot of things.

All of them rubbish.

The truth? The truth is that they have always been here…

Numbness, what a curious feeling…

Dull sensations that spreads all over one's body, making its movements sluggish and imprecise. It can hardly feel anything with its body, be it pain or pleasure.  It was more so annoying than anything. Every movement was met with a pricking sensation, as if thousands of pins was trying to pierce its skin. Sometimes it's accompanied with feelings of of alienation, as if it wasn't the owner of its own body. Just a guest, a watcher.

His every thought and movement feels strange, as if it wasn't in command with its own body, but something unsettling, something alien. It was like if it had slept in an improper position. Constricted blood flow. Or nerve damage.

One particular stallion felt so right now, one that slept far too long.

His body felt... odd. His body ached, but not in such a pain if he had strained a muscle or had been struck, but by lying motionless too long. Unable to move or think, the stallion decided to do one thing, one that was intuitive for all living beings, that would allow him to learn where he was.

The stallion opened his eyes.

Everything was covered in darkness, with only one pale blue light on the border of his field of vision, a groaning pain hit his eyes, forcing him to shut them tight. The small light was enough to make his vision sore, as if he was exposed to it for the first time in many, many years. Grunting, he squinted his strained eyelids more carefully.

He was inside some sort of tube, half-laying on some kind of mattress. It was hard and had lost its color years ago, the frame just a dull gray. Above the stallion's head was a flat piece of dark glass with numerous buttons and keys all spread over. This 'screen' was long nonfunctional and dead.

Looking down, his eyes widened at the discovery numerous needles were impaled into his forelegs, sludge of dessicated liquids inside. How hadn't he felt them before? Unable to form any logical explanation, stallion started to gently pull each needle out of his flesh by mouth, ignoring the burning sensation in his muscles. It was slow and tender work pulling them one at a time, the tube's occupant needing to be especially careful not the make sudden movements. Single drops of blood leaked from Pin sized wounds left in place of each needle over his grey coat. With the last of the needles plucked out, the pony gave a pleased grunt and laid his head back to rest. The whole process had taken a lot out of him.

He woke up feeling hungry more conscious of his surroundings this time. The stallion groggily blinking as he scanned his surroundings. His position inside the pod allowed him to see that his tube wasn't the only one in the room. 'Pods', as he named them in his head, were objects made of metal and glass,  lined up along the walls of the chamber, too numerous to count in his clouded state of mind. The stallion felt that he should know something about them, something important, yet it was just outside his grasp.

He's decided that now wasn't the time to worry about it, his physiological needs being his main priority, the trapped occupant placed both of fore-hooves on the glass lid separating him from the outside world. His feeble forelegs managed to push the lid off with little effort, throwing it aside. They clearly were on their breaking point, the lid detached from its metal hinges with loud creak, falling to the floor with loud banging noise.

Stallion, until he can recall a name he'll have to identify his name as so, winced at the sound, folding his ears tightly. After a short while he perked them up, trying to hear if his actions didn't alarm anything. Just then, he noticed that he had really silly train of thoughts. Why, who would he bother with any noise at this point?

His questions was left unanswered.

Taking deep breaths of cold and stale air, Stallion lifted himself up and pushed himself up out of the pod.

Falling would be more suiting word, as he only managed to propel himself from the soft insides of his pod. His strength failed him as he only managed to place both of his forehooves safely on ground in time. He was too weak to support his own weight, combined with the momentum from stumbling out of the pod. Stallion landed face first,  stunned from the cold the stone floor offered. He didn't expect the cold to be so welcoming, yet he had to say his goodbyes early, already overstaying his hospitality.

Stallion pushed himself up on trembling hooves, ignoring the mild pain on his jaw, he managed to stand properly.

He glanced around tiresomely, seeing that he was standing between two rows of these mysterious pods. Between them, on the ceiling right above the walkway, was a thin line of lamps glowing with pale blue lights. Not all of its segments were working; some were already burnt out, some were twinkling in and out, a few however still giving steady light, so welcoming for the stallion's eyes. The floor, so cold that he could feel it freezing temperature even through his hooves, were made from concrete. Or so he thought, from examining the little grainy surface of it under his hooves.

His attention however were drawn to the other pods. They all were identical at first glance, made of faded gray, weathered material, with glass lids on fronts showing their contents. The lid of his pod lied nearby, a web of fractured formed from its impact, but was otherwise intact, not counting wrenched hinges on the side.

Ignoring it for the moment, he stepped over it, walking up to carefully look over the next pod. It was just like his own, save for the doors. It was sealed tightly as he tried to pry it open, and it looked like nothing was inside. He couldn't tell given the ceiling lamps were too dim to see inside.

He shook his head, not knowing what he was expecting to spot inside, probably clues as to where he was.

Stallion's mind was a mess, seeming to retain basic information. But his thoughts were so chaotic and disorganized, making it hard to think straight.  He focused instead on simple things, like walking and acting in his primal instincts. For now, he was concerned with one thing – his rumbling stomach.

Following the trail of blue light was easy. The cognitive parts of his mind reasoning that these strange lamps had to lead somewhere. He trotted slowly, passing by countless pods like his. Stallion quickly lost sense of time, unable to keep track how long he had been exploring. Minutes turned to quarters, then to hours, it was all mixed up and fluid for him…

Even dwelling on the names of time units were making him dizzy. It was yet another of these memories, things that should be obvious and easy to everypony, yet for some reason it was blocked by... something. He could worry about it later, when his head won't spin every time he tried to think.

When he finally reached the end of the hall he was met with the sight of big, sliding metal door. They were open and askew. A panel with strange buttons was next to it, ripped from the wall, long ago by some unknown force. Bundles of cable and pieces of metal littered the ground all around and buttons, once glowing with life, were now dead. Simple sight of that destruction and erosion made Stallion realize that something was really wrong here, something he was missing…

He glanced back, rows upon rows of identical pods lined under the walls of the hall, some had been opened. Some had been destroyed, glass doors shattered or wrung open. However, he had yet to see any other ponies here, alive or dead.

A chill ran down his spine.

Deciding that he didn't want to be in this room anymore, stallion attempted to climb through the derelict doors. One side was stuck at an odd angle, leaving Stallion no choice but to try wrenching the other bulkhead. With great effort and lots of cursing, he finally managed to slide them enough to squeeze through. Not thinking long about it, he jumped through.

Stallion found himself in dark room. Small lights were seeping inside from the hallway, illuminating small patches on the floor. His eyes squinted to peer better in the dark spaces, looking for anything that could help shed light on his current situation. He stumbled on something lying on the floor, he cursed, barely able to catch his balance before his snout would hit the floor. Disgruntled, Stallion turned around and jumped back into the hallway.

Craning his head high, the stallion noticed objects of his desire – blue lamps. Standing awkwardly on his hind legs and reaching out with his forelegs stallion tried to knock down one of the working panels. A few minutes of awkward flailing later, he managed to get one lamp down, luckily not damaging it too much in the process.  The glow was weak but steady, stallion returned to the room blanketed in darkness, with a new improvised torch in his mouth.

The room looked like some sort of a laboratory left in disarray. Strange devices and scientific instruments were left scattered, thrown around by unknown forces, some were crooked, as floors or walls next to them collapsed. Rubble and broken pipes were strewn everywhere, broken off from the ceiling, protruding from the floors, some of them looked like they were once carrying water, rust covered their broken ends and dark spots painted floor under it. Water dried ages ago, yet it left its permanent mark in few places. The other odd thing he noticed was lack of any labile materials. He didn't see anything outside of glass and metal and even they carries signs of erosion, panel chipped on the edges and foggy while metal was dull and it was was covered with a dark patina.

Stallion noticed the thing he stumbled on earlier, a simple piece of rubble. He kicked it angrily, making it fly across the room. It bounced off the nearest wall, hit one of a few still standing desks shattering fragile glass vials and bottles on it, scattering glass particles all around. Satisfied with this senseless show of an aggression and letting out small, pleased grunt. Stallion moved further, ignoring all other curious devices. They all looked broken anyway. He spared them only a brief glance before moving deeper into the laboratory.

It was much much later when he discovered that these seemingly abandoned halls and corridors weren't empty, he stumbled on their inhabitants accidentally.

When he was exploring rooms along one widest the corridors, his attention was drawn by curious a noise. It was not a familiar sound of moved rubble, or grinding of metal, sounds so common here, where it took the slightest of vibrations to make ancient ceilings and devices crumble. He witnessed it several times as pieces of walls fell of when he simply walked past them. Since then he placed his hooves more gently on the ground, which, considering stallion size and condition, was not an easy feat.

Said sound wasn't soft and rustling as of a paper, nor it was sharp noise of a shattered glass. It was something... else. Stallion recognized this sound, he heard it many many times  before, but he was unable to say when, or even what it was.

His curiosity peaked, he moved towards source of strange noise.

Five creatures were sitting in middle of the room, surrounding one of the numerous devices scattered all over the place, doing... something. Stallion squinted his eyes trying to see the details of each creature, but their distance from the entrance, combined with bad lightning allowed him to see only their vague shapes. Against his innate caution and self-preservation, stallion slowly walked inside the room. This one was not shaped like previous one, looked more like small storage room than anything else. Shelves made of dark, dull metal were lined under each wall, stacked together and moved, probably by strange beings inside to make space more comfortable. Remains of items stored on the shelves lay in heaps in various corners of the room, swept negligently to the nearest corners. Only few surviving cans and bottles were standing proudly all over their destroyed by age brothers and sisters, showing that indeed, once it was a storage. Today? No more than pitiful ruin. Stallion had yet to discover why he knew words like storage room or laboratory. Moving slowly, keeping to the shadows and trying to keep as far as it was possible from possible sources of unwanted noise, like pieces of a glass, fragments of some other unidentified material that lied scattered all over floor. His lamp was of course left behind, it's light slowly dying as it was severed from its source of power, but even in its feeble light would shine like a beacon in this ever present darkness.

Stallion cautious crawl come to an end as he hid behind large, dented and darkened with age, box. He peaked over it, trying to get better look at curious beings resting nearby.

Creatures resembled himself in shape. They had four legs, one head and tails composed of long hair.  But that was where similarities ended. They were all in different shapes. One was big, being over half of a head taller than curious stallion, broad in shoulders and with big, flat hooves, his fur was in color of desert sand. Two of them had horns, sleek and thin creations protruding from middle of their foreheads, their hides were in colors of blues. It was hard to distinguish one from another, but one of them was smaller and graceful in her movements than other. Two next had long ears, flowing down sides of their neck, like long braids, reaching bottoms of their barrels. They were the smallest of gathered creatures, "ponies!" as stallion suddenly remembered. Their hides were of identical, creamy color.

They were all absorbed by something. Their... lips were moving, doing something, letting out curious noises. They were... stallion couldn't remember the name, but he knew that it was a method of a communication. What was communication? Answer to that question should wait. He found himself enthralled by this whole scene, his hunger forgotten for a short while. Their movements, words, gesticulation, faces... it all was familiar.

Stallion grabbed his head as flow of memories and information overwhelmed his mind. Images and feelings rushed at him, he felt it all at once. Joy and sorrow, love and hate, disappointment and fulfillment and even simpler, more primal emotions and feelings. It hurt. He screamed loudly in pain. It was all in there, hidden and stored away, covered in thick layer of dust, forgotten. His memories were forgotten, why? He didn't know the answer. He writhed in pain as set of strong hooves landed on his shoulders, pinning him to the cold ground. Numerous voices filled his ears and he didn't know to who and what they belonged, or if they were even real or not.

Over all of his pain and confusion pierced one, clear voice. It was calling, calling his name. “Six! Six! Wake up!”

Chapter I - Echoes

Cold... so familiar, yet unwelcome feeling. It was yet another curious sensation. Sometimes light and nippy barely noticeable through layer of thick fur, sometimes chilly turning your breath into cloud of frozen steam. Most of the time however, it was icy, turning spit into an ice before it could touch the ground, freezing blood, turning limbs black and unusable, deadly, killing those unprepared. Cold was connected to his life, to life of every pony and every creature of this world from their very beginning. They all were trapped in this deadly cycle, struggling to survive from one season to other, living fully and intensively only in a short periods when vegetation was possible. They were all doomed even before they were born. He remembered it, how could he forget? Winter... everlasting, persistent, white and never truly gone. It was always there lurking, like hidden predator watching its prey, waiting for moment of its weakness.

People of Auriga tend to say that Winter had a mind of it's own, that it was a cruel beast lying in wait for their lives. Were these rumors even true? It was a mystery that even the wisest of sages and scientists couldn't answer. True was one thing, that white fluff falling from the sky was never a good sign.

He squinted his eyes, trying to see through a blizzard. Ubiquitous snow and ice clung to his protective clothing, freezing it, making them heavy and bulky, hindering his movements. Snowstorm was was furiously attacking him, seemingly aiming for his helmet. Damp and thawing snow gaily stick to his visor just to freeze again upon first blow of an icy wind. His vision obscured, he was forced to wipe and slosh his face all the time just to see what was in front of him.

Six cursed under his breath. He hated winter, he could easily bet that anypony asked would give him the same answer, winter however was as much part of their lives, as breathing and eating. No matter how much they disliked snow and cold, it would never go away. She would come earlier and more unexpectedly with each passing year.

Six grunted when he was once again forced to clean his mask. When he raised his head to face blizzard, he froze. Far away in the distance he spotted a faint lights, flashing steadily with blue and red colors. Their sight filled stallion heart with spark of hope. His journey was nearing it's end. True, he would have to go all the way back, wading through deep snow with blizzard blowing over his head, but it was future Six problem. Stallion resumed his walk in brisker pace, ramming through deep snow like an ice breaker.

It took him a better part of an hour to reach the station.

'Station' was a simple metal box with a tall signaling pole and an antenna attached to top of it. It was simple in build and even simpler in maintenance, yet very effective and weatherproof. As usual station's box was covered with thick layer of snow and ice. It was no surprise for Six who simply pulled out his trusted shovel and a torch as he started to sweep the snow away. Later he used fire to melt the ice covering station's lock.

Problem of Auriga's long winters forced Six to trot all the way from Shelter to here. He was sent to maintain and collect data from meteorological outposts scattered all around the bunker. According to numerous rules and regulations he should never be allowed to walk alone during winter while collecting meteorological data. Not because said data was valuable, these measurements were unreadable to anyone without proper equipment or training, but because winters in the past few years became severe and dangerous. Even the most beaten paths turned into death traps when temperature dropped well below the freezing point of a water.

But as it usually was with rules and regulations they were mostly applied when it was convenient.

Six would never admit it to anyone, surely not to his supervisors, that often he and his partner went on these weekly trips alone, each of them taking path to the different monitoring stations. They were able to finish their run twice as fast, no pony liked to spend long hours burrowing through snow. So far no pony was bothered them about it, they were effective.

Finishing his job, Six closed station's doors securing them in their place, knowing well enough that he soon will have to fight them again. Sighing and standing up supporting his own weight on the box. Stallion cast his eyes around.

He was greeted with view usual for this time of year. Lots of snow.

Stallion turned around and started to make his way back to the Shelter, when curious sound pierced through howl of wind. Rustle of wings? Just stranger, weirder one, as if they weren't made of feathers or leathery membrane, but something stiffer and harder. No, it can't be... no pony would be foolish enough to fly in such weather, not to mention, he wouldn't be able to hear them anyway!

There could be only one explanation of this puzzling case.

Eyes widened, stallion spun around. He spotted weird looking creature, pale, similar in build to a pony and insect alike. Its body was adorned with numerous spines placed in odd places and from it's back protruded fly-like wings. Creatures eyes however were the worst, lifeless and empty. Six managed to open his mouth just in time for this thing to lunge at his face.

Steel Six woke up with a start, his chest heaving as he was panting heavily in panic. He looked around with his gray eyes searching for his imaginary assailant, yet he found nothing but empty walls bathed in a cool light seeping from old ceiling lamps. Six breathed sigh of relief falling at his makeshift bed, his head hitting 'pillow' a little harder than he intended. He wasn't on some remote plain in the eye of the blizzard attacked by some foul beast.

Stallion looked down at his bare chest, jagged line of scars adorning his neck and collarbone was the only memento of that fateful encounter. Beast was venomous his skin and fur actually melted in place of bite... Doctors said that he managed to survive only thanks to his determination and cold alone. What a lucky coincidence.

He once again shuddered at the vivid memory.

His encounter with beast wasn't the first one recorded, ponies went missing all over the place, even in far away bunkers. Everypony blamed bad weather or looked for some other 'rational' explanation. Who would believe in some sort of predatory beast hunting for pony flesh? Six was actually the first one to survive... Who would have thought that this event would start a war?

Sighing and massaging his old wound, stallion lifted his gaze glancing over the room. He simply looked for an excuse, something to think about. Anything that would help him forget about encounter... how many years ago? It was not important right now.

At first glance there was nothing out of place. Room was run down and in bad shape, most of equipment stored here was damaged in one way or another. There was noticeable less dust and rubble. It wasn't scattered around like in other rooms he was, instead it was swept into one remote corner.

Other than lack of dust, room looked like any other he found earlier during his 'sleepwalking'. He didn't really remember much after his awakening in mysterious pod, it was all blurred out with odd sounds and images mixed together. Incomprehensible and without context. Throbbing headache told him that it would be best to leave it for now.

Deciding that short walk combined with some exploration, he had to find ponies responsible for his current condition, would do him some good, stallion attempted to stand up from his bed. Stretching his stagnant joints he swung legs over the edge of the bed.

There was a loud clang as one of his hooves collided with something, something wet, slimy and cold. Startled by sudden noise he cursed and fell back on his rump. Quick glance under the bed showed that indeed, something was right under it, it was now overturned metal tray. He guessed that gray mass splattered now all over the floor was some kind of food, it wasn't looking appealing at all. Who would be foolish enough to place tray with food in such place?

Luckily, he didn't had to wait too long for answer to his question, because door leading to his room slid open revealing slim figure of a pony.

She was pretty little thing, gentle face features, small nose, slim lips, small dimples on her cheeks in corner of her mouth, gorgeous walnut eyes. Mare mane was cut short, messy and in warm brown hue, coat in color of cappuccino foam. However what drawn Six eyes was not to her face, but pair of really long ears, freely hanging on mare sides like braids, swaying side-to-side. Even though she was covered in dust, darker splotches of dirt painting her sides, her mane was a little to messier than it should be, she had dark spots under her eyes and she was really thin around the middle, she was still something.

For short moment these two simply stared at each other, both on loss of words. Silence, however was never meant to last forever, as mare finally spoke up.

“S-Six?” She stuttered, her eyes growing in size. “You are awake!”

“Yes, I'm awake.” He repeated her words, wasn't that obvious?

Before Six could do anything else, mare inhaled deeply, spun around and rushed quickly out of the room. He could hear her hooves clapping rapidly against stone floor as she was running all over the place calling. “Grand! Willow! Everypony! Six woke up!” Her voice echoed over the empty halls.

He didn't had much time to wonder what it was all about when his ears were filled with clopping sound and hushed whispers as small crowd of ponies rapidly approached 'his' quarter. They stopped right in front of his door, but he was unable to hear more than tone of their conversation. They seemed to have an argument.

Six swallowed nervously. He was very unsure what he could expect from these ponies, they knew his name and so far didn't try to hurt him. They could harm him when he was out cold, he was more than aware of it. But they didn't. Instead they put him here, in the bed. They even gave him some food food. They couldn't be that bad? He reasoned. He tried to keep to this thought, yet it wasn't doing much to calm him down.

Soon his musings were interrupted by doors sliding away as tall and broad stallion walked in. He was easily head taller than Six, who could hardly be considered small. His fur was in color of desert sand mane and tail were equally black. Six from his sitting position was able to spot that his hooves were much bigger and broader than in any other pony kind he ever seen, also strange pony face adore reasonably sized mustache, what an oddity. Stallion was wearing a kind and calming smile, but Six was able to see that it was a little strained.

“I know your face.” Steel Six said slowly. Mustache so big and neatly cut was really hard to forget. He was sure that he saw it somewhere in the past... Past. Why suddenly it made him feel sad? He choose to ignore it for a time being.

“That's really good to hear. It means that your condition improves.” Sand-colored stallion replied while nodding. “Steel I would like to run some...”

“How can you know my name?” Steel interjected, asking a question that was bothering him since that mare disappearance. He didn't remember telling them his name, maybe he was missing something? Six noticed that this odd stallion called him by his name only, he didn't use any kind of salutation.

Stallion frowned disapprovingly at Six interruption, gray stallion shrunk a little under power of sand colored stallion gaze. Big one replied.

“Know that for now my explanation for now may sound absurdly, but I have no reason to lie to you.” Bigger stallion said slowly pulling out metal clipboard. “My name is Grand and we meet many years ago on a Salt Desert. I don't expect you to know my name, nor to know where said desert is. You dispelled that illusion a three days ago when we found you screaming your lungs out near our camp. You were really lucky, we...” He was once again interrupted by gray stallion.

“T-three days?” Six asked as he stopped listening after hearing these news. How could he forget a three days of his life? He wondered it was even possible. He didn't remember much, but he was sure he would remember spending so much time around these strange ponies! Not to mention his prolonged stay in this... place. He had yet to come up with suitable name for this whole complex. These ponies seemed to know him, that brown mare from earlier said that he was awake. Would that mean that he slept the whole time? That raised another question – why?

Six opened his mouth to say something, when Grand raised one hoof silencing him.

“Calm down Six, I will try to answer all your questions.” Grand said in calming tone, he tried to sound collected and professional even though there were big, black spots under his tired eyes. “Just listen to me, I have a tale and a question for you.”

Six nodded. He could fight, curse and flail, but why he would do that? This whole Grand seemed to be honest so far.

Seeing that his patient is willing to cooperate corners of Grand's lips raised slightly in a genuine smile.

“May I sit? Thanks.” Grand sat on metal crate that creaked under his weight. “You probably have many questions, sadly I can answer only some of them. Not because I don't want to or because I'm hiding something from you, no.” Grand shook his head. “I don't have all the answers. You may be surprised, but your and mine situations are very much alike.” Stallion explained.

“How so?” Asked Steel Six. He doubted that anypony confusion would he comparable to his.

“I and everypony behind these doors,” Grand pointed at sliding doors behind his back. “We slept, just like you. Do you remember these pods? You may not, you were as confused as we were, if not more. You were pretty lost when we found you, well you found us.” Grand hummed in thought.

“I-I don't really remember what happened.” Six admitted nervously.

“That's all right, you were really lucky.” Grand comforted Six. “Who knows how long you would wander around these abandoned halls? I know that I managed to gather my little group fairly quickly, but only because we were placed so close to each other. You too were supposed to be near us... It's mystery why you were stored away. Maybe it was a malfunction? You don't know why your pod was moved?” Grand asked. Six shook his head.

Steel Six noticed that he had really odd accent, he distinguished each first syllable of each word and dragged some sounds, like 'u' or 'o'. Odd look combined with this very specific accent  resulted in Grand being exotic and really out of place.

“Thought so.” Grand shrugged.  “Well, we can worry about it later.” Giant stallion coughed in a hoof as he continued his tale.“We slept, suspended in time. Not because it was fancy or funny, but because we had to. Ages ago, I'm not sure when because everything is broken here,” He kicked black surface of some device lying nearby. “There was an event that threatened whole life on our world. We called it the Cataclysm.” Cold chill ran through Six back. The very name of said event invoked fear in stallion's soul.

“We don't know what caused it, or even if there was cause at all! It may be just a cycle of this world, cycle of life and death. The Cataclysm is...” Grand was interrupted again.

“Eternal winter.” Six fell into Grand words.

Grand only nodded and said grimly. “You remember it, eh? You are confused, you hardly remember a thing, yet you shudder on the very mention of the Event.”

Steel Six stared blankly at his interlocutor, lost in thought. He remembered it, fear, cold and death. It was all faded, but message was clear – the Cataclysm meant death.

“That's why we are here.”

“And where is here?” Six finally asked raising his gaze.

“You are wondering where we are?” On Six nod, Grand continued. “We are in the Shelter, formerly main hub and capital of ponies that were called by everypony but themselves Vaulters. They were really amazing things, brave, organized and intelligent. Skilled builders and unmatched scientists, I'm sure they they were only a step away from discovering what Dust really was.” He mused. “That would probably help us save Auriga, but,” Grand sighed. “They only managed to preserve themselves.” He stated sadly. Then his face brightened as he remembered something. “I recall that they hated that name – Vaulters. They said it was insulting! I don't blame them, they were so proud... yet everypony remembered them only for their underground adobes.” He chuckled. “I guess ponies were right saying that you don't choose name for yourself. Others will always remember you by some silly trait or deed.”

“They meet their end here?” Six asked after short moment of quiet musings. He looked with renewed interest around the room they were in. All this ruin and destruction. Something curious was building inside his chest.

“I don't know.” Grand replied honestly. “There were never enough pods to contain all ponies who lived here. We can't forget about those who choose to remain on the surface. Some other tried to fled the destruction… Some tried to brave through it. Sadly fate of your and even fate of my own people is a mystery. I can only pray that they found their safe haven.”

Six nodded sadly, then his ears perked up as they caught one, very important detail. “I am a Vaulter?” Six asked incredulously.

Grand only hummed in response. “Last time I checked you were the same Steel Six I meet all those years ago. If during your slumber you haven't changed his political affiliation, which is unlikely, then yes. You are a Vaulter.”

Six said nothing, deep in thought. Grand, pony sitting in front of him knew much more about his that he himself! Gray stallion was really feeling like his life was not in his hooves any more.

“Then what should I do?” Six asked with troubled look on his face. “Everything you say could be gibberish to me, I don’t know half of the things you say, other half is just my wild guess.” Stallion huffed angrily. “Why my memory is so full of holes?” Steel stood up and stomped booth of his hooves against the metal floor.

“Easy! There’s no need to be so angry out of sudden!” Grand called standing to his full height. Six was not impressed in the slightest by this big stallion.

“Easy you say? How I’m supposed to take it easy when you of all ponies know more about me and my life than I do?!” Six spat panting heavily. He was full of anger, but it wasn’t aimed at anything or anypony in particular.

“I know that you are confused, I know that you don’t know where you are and that my words raise new questions for you, but please,” Grand took one step away from Six, all the time keeping angered stallion in his line of vision. “The last thing we need is you going violent for whatever reason.”

Steel tilted his head. Was he really so intimidating that one angered stomp and shout was enough to send other stallion away? He didn’t think about himself as a pony who was able to threaten others, not in his sorry state anyway. Or maybe there was more to it? Yet another piece of knowledge, so thoroughly hidden by his own mind? Suddenly Six felt really ashamed by his own actions.

“S-sorry.” Six said in milder tone, placing his rump back on edge of the bed, all the anger seeping out of him like air from pierced balloon. “I-I just…”

He was quickly cut of by Grand. “Don’t be, I know that you are sick and confused. You are currently suffering from post-hibernation sickness. I really want to help you Six, but… there isn’t much I can do. Your condition is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. I can’t call it ‘new’ ailment since I know about it for a longer time, by the Sun, I suffered from it too!” Sand colored stallion admitted. “Disorientation imbalance, lack of appetite, general weakness are the most common symptoms. You forgetting some of your memories is nothing unusual, just uncommon.”

“However, it’s worrying that you seem to loose larger chunk of your memory than I initially assumed. You regained most of your motor control, we should do more test to check that, and you are not catatonic. We feared that after your outburst three days ago. From what you said me, you don’t remember waking up earlier, is that correct?”

“N-no. I just woke up after some weird dream… It was strange, cold and scary. I don’t know what to make out of it.” Six huffed lying back on the bed. He stared at crack in the ceiling when Grand’s voice asked.

“Dream? Could you tell me more about it?”

“Why?” Six inquired.

“Dreams are nonsense for the most part, sometimes, however, they are a source of useful information. They are memories burned deeply into your mind, they are images of past, present, sometimes future. We know a little about them, but I, Grand can boast about acquiring a bit of knowledge about Death’s sister.”

Six though about it. This whole concept of telling other pony, even though this pony was saying he knows a bit about dreams, was silly. He found it hard to believe that anypony would be able to determinate the meaning of even a single dream.

“I don’t think that it would make any difference Grand.” Six replied after longer while massaging his old wound. Maybe Grand was telling the truth, maybe he wanted to make him talk. Both both options were equally possible. “It was just an old memory of mine, one of the few I remember. There was a lot of snow, ice and wind.”

“There was something else, right? Something that made you remember it, even after all these years?” Grand asked carefully.

“Yeah, there was… I don’t really know a suitable name for this thing. It was bug. Big, shaped like pony, all pale with strange spikes and spines all over it’s body. It attacked me, lunged at me and sunk it’s teeth into my flesh.” Six patted wound on his neck and collarbone. “I don’t remember much after that, just pain, taste of blood and numbness spreading all the way down my left foreleg.” He winced involuntarily at that.

Knocking sound coming from the doors snatched attention of two stallions. It repeated again, quick and soft rap on metal surface, somepony impatient was waiting on the other side.

“I’m going to check what it’s all about.” Grand grumbled and stood up from his box.

Metal door slid close after retreating stallion and there was soft sound of impact. Grand was probably swarmed by other ponies in the complex, attacking him with questions from all sides. Not that it was any concern to Six, who already was drifting off into warm embrace of sleep.