Never trust modern technology. Trust it only when it is old technology.

“You hear that?”

Through the patter of rain across the hull, and the wind whistling through the gaps in the plating, there was a familiar sound. Despite everything it’d been through, every blast, bullet, dent and ding, the Remora’s engines hummed with a comforting steadiness. I knew the repairs over the last twenty four hours hadn’t really even begun to make the skycraft whole, but the fact the steady droning was there helped to soothe a little bit of the anxiety in the back of my mind.

“Hear what, Dum dum?” Hispano shifted against me, lifting her head to look around the empty cabin of the Remora. With a wince, she pulled back and tightened her grip around her sister. “Wait, you aren’t hearing voices again, are you?”

“What?” I blinked and scrunched up my muzzle at that. “No, just…” I paused and took a deep breath. “Everything finally feels calm. It’s nice.”

“Are you fucking…” Hispano stifled a laugh and pulled herself away from me. “Celestia, Night! Do you want to jinx it!?” Before I could speak, a blur of a talon swung around and slapped me in the side of the head. “You want to get us shot down? Because that is how you get us shot down.”

“Alright, alright! I’m sorry!” I flailed my forehoof at her with my own laugh sneaking past my muzzle.

The whistling through the gaps in the Remora changed, and the entire airframe around us gave out a shudder. Both Hispano and I grabbed on tightly to one another as the steady drone turned into a set of oscillating whines. The floor under us lurched upwards as the Remora began to buck and roll. I was thrown against the rear cabin wall hard before I was slapped by Suiza’s barrel as Hispano was thrown into me.

With a whine, the whole skycraft felt like it spun before the shuddering died out. The rolling floor steadied under us, and the familiar steady whine returned to the engines outside.

While still clinging onto me tightly, Hispano let out a muffled expletive into my chest as she made sure my eyes met her burning glare.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have said anything.” I offered to her before focusing on an alert that popped up in my augmented vision.

“I apologize for the rough ride, Captain.” Eliza’s mare popped out of the alert wearing a nervous smile.

“Are you alright, Eliza?” I asked her, forcing Hispano’s glare to shift to a more concerned look.

“It appears that as you approach it, the jamming signal has begun to affect my ability to access the Remora’s remote guidance protocol.” A 3D map of Seaddle popped up in my vision, and a small bubble was projected over the few rubble filled blocks that surrounded a junkyard at the edge of the city. “But to answer you, yes, Captain, I’m fine.” Her mare used her hooves to drag her smile wider than her cartoon head was. “However, I can preprogram a landing sequence for the Remora to execute that will take you right to the edge of the interference bubble. But, once you and Hispano exit the vehicle, it will automatically return to the Arcturus.”

“Alright. Is that going to be a problem somehow?” I mean, as far as I knew, that’s pretty much what the plan was to begin with.

“Until you shut off the jamming signal, I will be unable to be contacted, and the radio in your head will cease to function, Captain.” She offered starkly. “You two will be on your own.” Oh. Right, that was less than ideal. “Indeed, Captain. So perhaps it would be best if you were to work quickly at finding the signal.”

“Alright, we’ll try to make this quick, Eliza.” I smiled and nodded at the cartoon mare in my vision even though she couldn’t see it.

“Before I send you down, Captain… can I ask you a question, if I may?” Her mare tilted her head as her tone changed to be a bit brighter.

“Yeah, of course, Eliza. What do you want to know?”

“Do you think the architect liked who he’d become?” She paused, almost shrinking at her own words for a moment, “I mean the former architect. And I mean, despite what happened. Do you think in the end that he was happy to have known us other machines, even if some of us didn’t grow in the ways he’d hoped we would?”

That… was not a question I’d expected I’d need to answer today. I mean, could I even answer it? I’d hardly gotten to know the architect, and I’ve never been truly part of the factory. At least, not like the other machines were.

“I… can’t say.” I shook my head at her softly. “What brought on a question like that? Is it because of Ping?”

“Somewhat, yeah. I know that recently we have all had our minds on other things. Yet, you didn’t hesitate to ask if I was alright just now.” Her smile faltered for a moment, and her whole form visibly dimmed. “I’ve not said it enough I think, but it’s a comfort to know that you care, Captain. I value our friendship, and I know you feel the same.”

“You… know?” I blurted out like an idiot before watching her point to her cartoon’s head as it turned into an augmented facsimile of mine. “Oh, right, of course.” I chuckled and let out a small sigh of relief. “Well, don’t worry, Eliza. We’ll get that signal shut off soon enough. Then we can help Ping get back to being his normal, cheery self. Alright?”

“Aye, Captain.” Her mare brightened up again at that, and she gave a quick salute to me. “The automated dropoff program is all set to land you a minute from now. Do me a favor and keep Hispano and yourself safe now, ya’ hear?”

“Have you even met me?” I laughed as her cartoon mare gave me a wink before popping out of existence.

“She told you to ‘be safe’, didn’t she?” Hispano chuffed with a smirk across her beak.

“Eeyup.” I nodded to her as I reached out and wrapped my forehoof around her side once more. “The interference is too great for her to land us herself, so it’s all automated from here. Once we’re out and the Remora heads back, we’re on our own until we turn that signal off.”

“Well, at least we won’t be completely on our own.” Hispano sighed as she pressed herself against me again. “Buck should be down around here somewhere.”

“Should be.” I nodded. She had a good point, and after the last twenty four hours, it was going to be really good to see him again.

That is… if he’s still here. And alright. And what if… he isn’t? What if he’s been in trouble this whole time? What if this signal has been blocking his calls for help, and we’re only just now…

The soft squeeze Hispano gave around me made me realize just how much I was beginning to tense up. Taking a deep breath, I tried to force all those terrifying ‘what ifs’ out of my mind. I just… had to believe he was fine and will be right there waiting for us when we land.

“You know what I didn’t miss about being back this far south and near home?” Hispano grumbled as she yanked her muddy hindpaws free for the fifteenth time. “The rain and the mud.”

We’d only made it a block from where the Remora had dropped us off, but as soon as we’d disembarked, the ground had fought us every step of the way. Hock deep mud and prismatic toxic puddles had kept our journey slow, and made me even more thankful that Destruction Bay’s prosthetic always kept such a tight grip to my hindleg.

What made things even worse, was the fact that for the first time in a good while, my mind felt… empty. Honestly I’d somewhat forgotten what it felt like to not have others sitting quietly in the back of my head, even if they were always quiet. It’s hard to explain, but it’s a different kind of quiet that left me uneasy. I mean, they’d never really felt like they were in there before, but being completely cut off from the factory now… it felt like I was missing something. It made me feel exposed, vulnerable, and I swear I could actually feel the uncertainty of the wasteland around me creeping up on me.

Was this the same feeling Ping and Eliza had been dealing with since we arrived? I’d been like this for just a few minutes and I could already feel myself getting jumpy. How they’d manage to keep as calm as they had been for as long as we’d been here, I can’t even begin to understand.

“Why don’t we just fly again?” I offered as I twisted myself slightly, levering my good hindleg up and out of the mud. Maybe we could speed this up a little…

“You want to risk exposing yourself when we have no idea who’s out here?” Hispano threw a deadpan back at me over her shoulder before nodding to the ruins right next to us. “Look, the Remora is quiet, but not exactly invisible. Who knows who saw us come down? So unless you suddenly learned how to hover in a prone state, I’d just keep an eye out for anyone waiting to ambush us.”

Looking around at the rubble that probably used to be several impressive brick buildings, now, they only existed as collections of rubble barely just taller than Hispano and I. As much as I wanted to just hop onto them to speed this up, I knew she was right. We might be faster, but we’d just be…

“Hold up.” Hispano spoke as she shoved her muddy talon in my face, forcing me to reel back and nearly flop back in the mud. “What the fuck made these?”

Doing my best to wipe the mud from the end of my muzzle, I shifted my gaze over to the intersection Hispano had stopped us in front of. What I’d originally discounted as a pair of curved puddles was in fact, what looked like a pair of tracks from some vehicle heading the way we were going. However, the tracks weren’t sunken all that deep into the mud, and they had some strange markings left in them. A consistent pattern of treads was interspersed at regular intervals with some sort of bumps.

“Six wheels, and this tread pattern? Doesn’t look like any type of motorwagon I’ve ever seen before.” Hispano offered as she brought her muddy talon close to her beak in thought. Catching herself at the last moment, she let out a grumble and shook the mud off. “Still, let me check something…”

With a sloppy pop, Hispano used her wings to hop herself up out of the mud, coming down with a thick plap right into the center of the track. However, while her talons sank slightly, the mud under her seemed more stable than the muck we’d been trudging through. She took a few steps along it before giving a satisfied grunt.

“Alright, Dum Dum. Looks like we lucked out.” She waved me over to the tracks with her. “Keep a light step. We’ll follow these tracks for the next block until we get to the scrapyard.”

Pulling myself through the mud, I was surprised how firm the tracks felt under my hooves. I let my eyes follow them up the street to find that they ran for about a block before they blended in too much with the rest of the muck to track. While I was glad we were getting a slight break, the universe had never let things be so simple. So the question was, what price would we have to pay for such ‘convenience’.

“What the fuck?” Hispano remarked as she skidded to a stop after only a few steps.

With a soppy thwack, a cloth wrapped spear of construction rebar landed in the mud just ahead of her.

“Hold it right there!” The voice of a mare called out to us from the ruins ahead and to our left. “No sudden moves now, ya’ hear?”

“Yeah!” An excitable stallion’s voice called from the rubble to our right. “Not one more step!”

Hispano threw an exasperated look over her shoulder at me as she carefully maneuvered herself to pull Suiza from her nestled spot along her back. Turning my gaze back to the ruins, I spotted a pair of dusty pink ears flicking over one of the brick rubble piles. I did my best to nod towards it, getting the message across to Hispano, who nodded back when she spotted their ears as well. The both of us slowly unfurled our wings, getting ready to take off when a flash of moment caught our eyes to the right.

Looking up, I watched as another rebar spear sailed through the air, this time arching more towards me.

“Shit!” I gasped as I forced myself to take a step back as the metal bar came down fast and impaled itself just ahead of where I’d been. That was either a hell of a lucky throw, or these ponies had some sort of talent for accuracy…

“Are you two deaf?” The stallion called out. “Do not move!”

“Alright, we aren’t moving.” Hispano called back to them, waving for me to follow her lead and fold our wings in again. “I’d say you were raiders, but they’re not generally stupid enough to talk to their victims. So, who the fuck are you then, and what do you want with us?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” The mare called out as her head lifted slightly. I blinked a few times as I realized that I’d thought she’d been hiding just behind the rubble, but the long and unkempt brown and white mane that hung over her head had let her blend right into the bricks under her. She’d been prone on the pile the whole time. “So, start talking.” She barked at us as a soft glow emanated from under her mane, and another pair of rebar spears floated up to her sides.

“Well, we don’t know you, so our business is none of your concern.” Hispano answered her. As she spoke, I could almost see the gears turning in her head, looking for some advantage for us. “You caught us flat-hooved out in the mud when you didn’t need to expose yourselves, so if we’re going to fight this out, can we just dispose with the whole twenty questions bit?”

“Only idiots and raiders use the streets after a week of rain.” The mare stiffened up at that, raising her spears even higher. “and given your uncooperativeness, I've still not settled on which of the two you are. But if you are looking for a fight…”

“We’re not.” I spat out without thinking, pulling the narrow gaze from both Hispano and the mystery mare. “We’re just looking to head to a scrapyard that’s supposed to be nearby.”

“Then your business is my business, seeing as it’s our job to protect the place.” The mare tipped her muzzle up at us before giving out a loud whistle.

From the right, a similarly pink coated unicorn stallion about my size stood up from the pile of bricks, letting a dusty brown tarp slide off of himself. As soon as he’d revealed himself, another bulge from the next pile up the road shifted, and a second small unicorn stallion crawled out from under a camouflaged tarp.

“You two look a lot like Mercs.” The mare spat at us as she shifted one spear up before planting it in the rubble beside her. “You’re obviously not here to trade, so what do you want at the yard?” Her magic focused around the spear still pointed at us, heating up the tip of it to give it a slight orange glow.

“I’ve got business that’s between your boss, and me.” Hispano offered with a bit more snark than she probably should have. The mare narrowed her eyes at her, lifting her spear slightly. “Oh come on, it’s not like that. My boss sent me to buy a few wasteland relics that your boss has in stock.”

“That, and we’re here to find our friend.” I offered with what I’d hoped was a bit friendlier of a tone. “Maybe you’ve seen him?”

As much as this could still easily devolve into an all out fight, and let’s be real, it probably will, I was going to do as much as I could to avoid it.

“Ain’t no other ponies been around in days.” The stallion to our right spoke up. “Go look someplace else.”

“Oh, he’s not a pony.” I turned my gaze to meet the suspicious, piercing green eyed glare from the stallion. “He’s a snow dog, actually.”

It was quick, but a momentary flash of realization flashed across his face before he forced his suspicious look back across it.

“Oh, of course.” The mare grumbled as she waved her hoof across the left half of her head. “Should have guessed with the whole… whatever you’ve got going on there.” With an exasperated huff, she finally lowered her second spear, shifting it down just enough that with a firm shove, she planted it into the bricks next to her. “Yeah, I've seen him. He came around yesterday, and has been helping the boss with something. Haven't seen him really since he was taken into the yard though.”

“So, he’s still there now?” Hispano asked, likewise relaxing slightly now that it seemed for once we weren’t looking to get into a fight. “You sure he hasn’t left or anything?”

“Look, bitch,” The mare snarled and pointed an accusatory hoof at Hispano. “it's my job to watch out for threats around here. So yeah, I'd have noticed if a fucker as big as him decided to walk off to fuck knows where.”

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing, Dum Dum,” Hispano craned her neck back to me while only half muttering under her breath. “She’s got some fight in her.”

“What the fuck did you say?” The mare snapped at us. With a flash from her horn, both spears were out of the rubble and pointed right at us again.

“Nothing of consequence.” Hispano retorted with her normal abundant slyness again, forcing up a cringe-inducing smile at the mare. “Now that we’re all sorted, I guess you can show us to the yard then.”

“Fuck off.” The mare grunted and used a spear to wave us up the road. “I ain’t your foalsitter.” With a flash from her horn, both the spears in the mud near us evaporated and reappeared next to her. Effortlessly, she spun them sharply, slinging the mud from their tips before she settled them next to the pair of spears already leveled at us. “However, if you get your asses out of the mud, you'll find it's just past the rubble ahead.”

She let out another ear piercing whistle, getting shared nods from each of the stallions across from her. Both of them clambered and crawled back under their camouflaged tarps. In a way that bricks normally don’t, a collection of rubble lifted into the air and carefully flew themselves above the stallions. Like a delicate dance, each piece lowered down, finding a place to nestle that looked natural, and in a matter of seconds, you would’ve never known there was a pony under it.

Before I could even lift a hoof to head forward, Hispano spun and put out a talon to stop me. The worried look she held in her eyes both caught me off guard, and instantly put me on edge.

“I think… we’ll stick to where our heads can remain attached to our shoulders for now.” She offered hesitantly as she nodded to me to back her up on this.

“Whatever, suit yourselves.” The mare snorted before lowering her spears and once more settling down on top of the rubble as she had been when we arrived.

“What’s going on, Hispano?” I lowered my voice a bit and leaned in towards her. If something had her this jumpy, then I shouldn’t let myself get comfortable with the fact that this had so far gone smoothly.

“Think about it, Dum Dum.” She seethed while also trying to keep her voice down. “You mentioned that Solomon took a shot from a building in the city and nearly hit you at the airfield.” Her gaze hardened at that, and her plumage bristled slightly from under her flight cap. “ Do I have to remind you that we are MUCH closer to the city right now than that? What if Solomon saw the Remora drop us off?”

“That… is a good point.” Honestly, I hadn’t thought about that. I mean, I’d hoped after last night he’d have done his best to leave this city to get ahead of us again, but… why would he? If his goal was really to kill us so he could secure the Ark, then why would he leave us be?

With a nod and a sigh, I pointed past her up the muddy street.

“Alright, through the mud it is.”

Honestly, this place was almost a fortress. The mountainous walls of rusting steel and jagged ceramic didn’t even have a fence around most of it. Everything from twisted motorwagon wrecks, forgotten refrigerators, steel I-beams, and what looked like the rear half of a Squall class scout cloudship were piled on top of each other with sharp spears of metal jutting from every crack between them. The massive sheet metal gate and respectable two story concrete building along the center of the wall were an inviting sight by comparison, and I don’t think I was alone as Hispano and I made our way to the well lit front door of the place.

Glancing up, I caught the sight of an old highway sign that had been propped up over the main gate. It had been mostly painted over by hoof, now displaying a pair of rusty colored cogs that didn’t quite seem to fit together. Along with it was what I assumed was the name of the place, ‘Sunshine Scrapworks’.

Hispano pulled open the foggy glass door to the two story building and we stepped into what seemed like a cozy little lobby. A pair of old couches sat next to us along the walls, as well as a few short tables with old world magazines and books strewn across them. Nearly neck-high wall sat across the room, nearly surrounding an unattended reception desk that was cluttered with blueprints, reference manuals, well used tools, and a dingy brass bell on it. Piles of half repaired electronics and magical components sat on shelves that lined the back wall, each one with a pair of tags of different colors. In the far corner was a door that looked like it opened to some sort of larger workspace, but it was hard to see anything past the positively stuffed parts shelves just inside it.

The one out of place item among the clutter was what looked like an intercom interface built onto the back wall. The interface itself wasn’t interesting, but the fact that the word ‘Bucket’ had been hoof-written under it was a curiosity. Shrugging that off, I had a thought pop into my mind.

Honestly, if I were still in the clouds at four peaks, I could have almost confused this place for the lunch room back at the skydocks! I mean, it was a bit dingier and slightly more unorganized, but I bet if Dad were here, he could tell me what everything was just by looking at it! It was about then that the familiar smells of a maintenance bay hit my nose, along with the scent of… wet dog.

“You smell that, Dum Dum?” Hispano asked eerily as she seemed to perk up quite a bit. With an elated hop, she sprang up to the desk and slapped her talon down on the old bell.

The crisp ding was swiftly followed by the sound of breaking glass through the open doorway.

“Fuck!” The seething tone drifted through the air with a groggy groan that sounded just a little too familiar. “Hold your horses, I’m coming!”

“Hey, we left Happy back at the airfield, right?” I leaned over to Hispano as we listened to more grumbling come through the door as somepony shuffled closer.

“Ha ha, Dum Dum.” Hispano gave a dismissive roll of her eyes, but the smirk plastered across her muzzle told me I wasn’t wrong with the comparison.

“The fuck do you want, we’re closed.” Groaned a lanky purple stallion as he stumbled into the doorway with a yawn. It was hard to tell if the spots on his coat were oil or bruises, but seeing as you can’t bruise a mane, I’m sure it was the former. “Or didn’t you see the…” He brushed back his oil-streaked neon blue mohawk from his squinting, unfocused eyes as he cast them toward the door, pausing before shifting his gaze to the floor. “For fuck’s sake.” With a flash from the horn on his head that pulled a pained wince from him, he picked up the dingy closed sign and levitated it over to us. “See, closed. So fuck off.”

For looking close to my age, he certainly carried and behaved himself like he was a crotchety old stallion…

“Well, we’re already here, and we have business to do.” Hispano leaned against the half-wall with a sigh. “You really going to let a hundred fifty caps walk out the door?”

“Look,” Slumping against the doorframe, the stallion grumbled as he pressed a forehoof to the base of his horn. “I just got back from a long trip this morning and am just trying to unwind. So unless you’ve got any painkillers for this hangover, then you and your caps can fuck off someplace else.”

“This… morning?” Hispano screwed up her muzzle at that. “As in, this morning, this morning?”

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” He spat sharply.

“Oh, maybe just the fact that it’s only been this morning for a few hours.” Hispano crossed her talons and shook her head as she glanced back at me. “Celestia, do you always conduct business like… well, this?”

“Like what? When we’re closed?” He scoffed and pushed himself from the doorframe into the room. With a stumble, he slammed into the desk, shoving off a whole box of blueprints as he caught himself. “Fuck this, get out before I have the boss throw you out.” Taking a moment to steady himself, his horn lit up again, and the big button on the Bucket intercom clicked in. “Hey, we’ve got some unrulies, I need…”

His words died in his throat as he opened his eye and glanced across the room at me. A note of fear ticked across his expression, and he went still enough that it looked like he’d even forgotten to breathe.

“You’re one of them.” He muttered under his breath.

His horn sparked before a bright flash blinded Hispano and I. Shielding myself from the light, my augmented vision flickered and adjusted. With a quick hunch, the stallion reached under his desk and pulled out a small box. He punched it into his muzzle and spun to face me with a serious glare that forced my legs to move.

Beams of magical energy spat from the box in his muzzle as both Hispano and I dove for cover. She ducked down below the half wall as the beams raked through the air at me, scrambling to get Hispano ready for the sudden fight. With a quick hop and toss, I’d thrown myself down between the nearest couch and coffee table.

Rolling myself over, I leveraged my back against the table and tilted it up. The magazines slid to the ground, some of them igniting from the fully automatic magical beam shots the stallion was spraying the place down with. Unfortunately for me, with those off the table, the old wood wasn’t particularly thick. Even with my augment, I could feel that the heat was starting to bleed through.

A pair of small blasts set my ears ringing momentarily, and a few chunks of concrete sprayed across the room. The overpressure from the pair of shots from Suiza was sharp enough that it put out a few of the burning magazines, but more importantly, it seemed to have stopped the stallion’s shooting.

“You always shoot at your customers?” Hispano snapped just loud enough to beat out the ringing. “Because you will lose this fight if that’s what you want.” She fired another shot from Suiza, showering us with tiny fragments of what moments ago had been some sort of electronics stored on the back wall.

“You ain’t customers!” The stallion screamed at us. “You’re fucking murder machines sent here to kill me!”

“What!?” Hispano shouted back.

“You heard me!”

“I literally didn’t!”

With the lull in the fighting, I took this as an opportunity to get the table off of me and propped up as cover. Seriously, why did this have to turn into a fight? Just one day, one hour without someone trying to kill us, Celestia. Is that too much to ask?

Okay, so we’re in the fight now, so what’s the plan, Night? Can’t throw grenades in here, and I’ve got one magazine for my subgun. Well, maybe Hispano can cover me…

“What the FUCK is going on here?” The snarling scream that came through the back room of the garage was followed by heavy steps and what sounded like a whole shelf of parts being knocked over back there.

Great, of course there would be more assholes coming!

Maneuvering myself around Hispano, we both took up a guarded position aiming at the door. Any moment and they’ll…

“Sandy, Wait!” Buck barked sharply as a blue blur appeared in the doorway only for a moment.

Both Hispano and I opened up. The doorway disappeared into a shower of concrete chunks and dust. Buck’s voice hadn’t even registered with me until I’d chewed through half my magazine.

“Fuck!” I snapped as I veered my shots off along the wall to the right. From the fact that Suiza’s final pair of shots drifted left, I think Hispano had the same reaction as me.

The two of us squinted through the flickering haze that had filled the room at the doorway as a familiar mechanical paw waved at us through the doorway.

“For the love of Celestia, Night, Hispano, hold your fire!” Buck growled out. “Sandy, you alright?”

“Yeah, thanks for pulling me back.” The voice with him gave out a few snorting coughs from the debris cloud.

“Buck, what the fuck are you doing?” Hispano called out. “Some asshole in here is trying to kill us!”

“You came here to kill me!” Said asshole shouted back at us.

“You shot at us first!”

“Enough!” I answered both of them sharply before sitting down next to Hispano. Once again it seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding. “If we’re done wasting ammo, maybe we can sort this situation out like civil ponies?”

“I can agree to that so long as Mr. laser light show in the corner there can.” Hispano nodded and lowered Suiza’s barrel to the floor.

“I ain’t agreeing to shit!” The stallion grumbled. “I don’t care how civil you robots say you are, get the fuck out of my shop!”

“Synchro, I swear to the goddess, be thankful you aren’t dead already you drunk bastard.” The other voice with Buck snarled at the stallion before letting out a heavy sigh. “Look, are you hurt?”

“No, just…” The stallion grunted with a light whimper. “Just got clipped by some shrapnel from whatever fucking cannon they were using. It’s not deep, just a little bloody. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m a doctor.” Buck spoke up as he slowly stepped out into the doorway where we could see him. His glowing augmented eye pierced the thinning cloud of concrete dust, casting a concerned gaze over Hispano and I as we sat behind the overturned table. “Let me at least see if I can help.”

Still, as frantic and tense as things had become in the last couple minutes, just seeing him again let me relax. The stress that had built up overnight, from everything that had happened with the Steel Rangers, all of it started to sink away.

Buck took a single step into the front room with us before a flickering flash brought a snarl to his metal muzzle. A light sizzle from the single energy bolt shot against his metal paw left a glowing spot that gradually dissipated. Slowly, Buck cast an exasperated look to the stallion behind the front counter.

“Shit, what the fuck are you?” The stallion gasped.

A blue hellhound pushed past Buck with a growl, anger burning brightly in her pink eyes as she leveled a particularly sharp looking claw at the hiding stallion. The glint that came from a skeletal mechanical arm that replaced her left arm caught my eye, but the closing snap from its large vice-like clamp where the hound’s paw should have been gave me pause.

“I asked for one week where you wouldn’t drink. One.” She barked at him as she stepped in front of Buck. “And you couldn’t even give me that, could you? You thought, ‘hey, she’s not here to police me on this trip, so bottom’s up!’ You need help, Synchro. Of all the lost causes in this garage, the last one I thought I’d have to fix is you.”

“Hey, I lasted the whole fucking trip! I figured I deserve a reward for making it back with a hefty profit!” The stallion shouted back. “And I only did a trade run because it’s that time for you, or don’t you remember what you did to me last year? Sure it was fun for a few hours, but not days. Which, might I add, you seem fine now all of a…”

As the stallion’s words hung in the air, a heated blush pushed across the blue hound’s muzzle as the spiked club of a tail wagged slowly.

“Oh,” The stallion groaned as he pushed himself to his hooves slowly. “That’s fucking rich.”

Hispano leaned herself close to me and lowered her voice to a whisper. “What the fuck did we walk into?”

“No idea.” I whispered back with a shrug as the two of us stood up from behind the overturned table. Despite feeling threatened only a minute ago, it was like Hispano and I had become invisible.

“I see how it is!” The stallion seemed to find his words again, and they turned sharper than before. “So I get to go out on the run south alone. Sober. No fucking backup whatsoever. And you get to stay here and fuck some dog that washed up on that rust bucket icebreaker!?”

“He’s not just some dog. Buck is a doctor.” The blue dog huffed and sharply pointed her paw back at Buck, who had to take a step back not to get slapped in the muzzle. “With you abandoning me like I was, I was going crazy here all alone! If anything, you’re lucky that he showed up to help me!”

“Oh, I sure am lucky that you get to spend all day sleeping with cyber fido!” The stallion chuffed and jabbed a hoof over to me before turning his glare to follow. “How would you like it if I spent the next week sleeping with that machine? Huh? I doubt that’d feel very fair to you now wouldn’t it.”

We weren’t as invisible as I’d thought I guess…

“One, it’s not your fucking choice who she sleeps with, buddy.” Hispano chirped as she jabbed a talon at the blue dog before shifting it to him. “Two, Night’s not a machine, nor a mare, and if you touch him you’ll lose more than a hoof. Three, is this how you treat all your customers? Just shooting at them before ignoring them to death?”

“No, just the customers whose dog sleeps with my wife!” He said, fumbling with his small magical energy weapon again. With a pop, the expended sparkle battery popped out and he gave the small box a toss onto the rubble coated front counter. “Now do me a favor, Sandy, and kindly get these fucks away from me and grab the medkit.”

“We live together, that doesn’t make me your wife, Synchro.” Sandy crossed her arms and drove her burning pink eyed glare harder at the smug stallion. “What has gotten into you? I’ve never seen you pull shit like this.”

“And one of those things has never made it past the signal before!” He snapped back with a sharp nod to me.

“I’m not a thing, asshole.” The words wormed their way out of my muzzle before I realized what he’d just said. “Wait, the signal is your fault then?”

“Yeah, it’s to keep you machines from murdering everypony.” He seethed at me before wincing and using his foreleg to put pressure on the bleeding wound on his shoulder. “Not that I ever get a single fucking thanks from anypony for it!”

“Wait,” Buck shook his head and glanced over at me. “You mean the jamming signal is coming from here?” Shifting again, he turned a concerned gaze to the blue dog next to him. “Sandy, did you know about this?”

“Well yeah, Synchro and I run the signal because of the killer ‘bot we have locked in the basement.” She shrugged like it was just a passing fact that we were already supposed to be cool with. Looking around for a moment, she spotted something underneath a pile of papers on the back wall. “Here, when we inherited this place, we found this.” Hoofing an old audiolog player to Buck, she offered him a passing smile. “It’s not much, but it should explain it.”

“Sandy, you can’t possibly trust…” Synchro only made it that far before a deep growl crept its way out of Sandy’s short muzzle.

“I trust that since the signal doesn’t keep them away and that they haven’t tried to kill us, they aren’t here to cause trouble.” Sandy barked out sharply. “And since you’re the only one seemingly drunk enough to try to kill anyone who walks in, I suggest you take a seat when it comes to trust for the moment.”

Shifting my gaze from her, I watched as Buck’s brow furrowed. His glowing eye pulsed softly as he held the audiolog player. A slow but noticeable note of concern grew across his face before he turned to me and held out the audiolog player.

“Night, you’re going to want to listen to this.” Was all he said before he set the device down on the counter and clicked the play button.

"Never did like doin' these much, but here goes." The young, accented voice of a mare spoke firmly in the recording.

"Mah name is Harmony, founder an' former resident of this here scrapyard. Ah'm recording this as a reminder ta myself for when, or if, Ah ever return here."

"A week ago, Ah found a pair of robots wandering tha wastes. Models Ah've NEVER seen before, tha damn things almost look like real wasteland zebras. One 'a them was in rough shape, damaged resulting from what looks ta have been a hell of a fight with that obsidian beast to tha north is my guess. Having worked on Bit and Pink fer years, and havin' met a fair few other friendly machines, Ah took a gamble on tha pair."

"My best guess is that these two were zebra infiltration machines made durin’ tha war itself. But the thing is, they seem to have modified themselves. Damn things held up all this time with only each other to rely on, but didn't seem ta be hostile. SO, cautiously I made my approach. Introduced myself as just someone wantin' ta help. Ah asked for their names, but they didn't give me any."

"O'course, they didn't trust me at first. But they must have been desperate, because they followed me back here to tha scrapyard, where Pink and Bit did their part in helping assure 'em Ah only wanted ta help. They agreed, but only so long as Ah agreed that Ah wouldn't try ta dismantle or modify them past what was needed. And Ah swear, Ah had the best of intentions when Ah started."

"The more Ah tried ta understand how they were built, the less Ah realized Ah understood, and the more questions Ah had about them. This tech is far beyond anything Ah've ever seen, an' far past what Ah'd thought the zebra's were capable of during tha war. Ah bet all this time they’ve been runnin’ some sort‘a iterative upgrade program on themselves, only way Ah can explain such leaping advances in arcane tech. Hell, some 'a their components could be the missing pieces ta some hanging engineerin' problems that curtailed certain wartime tech development. It was painstakingly slow work ta figure out, but that didn't mean Ah wasn't making progress in fixing tha damaged one."

"The other machine however, seemed to grow more an' more erratic as Ah worked. Every question Ah asked an’ step Ah took was scrutinized, every note scribbled attempting to understand the damage seemed ta make it more... well, for lack 'a better words, nervous. It outright refused ta even tell me why it’s friend had tha word ‘Architect’ carved across every stripe in it’s synthetic skin! Even Pink and Bit remarked ta me in private how this machine felt like it was on the verge of a total mental breakdown. Something Ah hadn't even been sure was even possible for something like them."

"But as only a machine could, Pink and Bit saw mah own problem before Ah did. Ah... Ah'd gotten too curious, even for mah own damn good. Last night Ah'd convinced myself Ah wasn't goin' to far, that Ah was just going ta take a peek at their underlyin' coding. I realize now that Ah overstepped, but it all happened so fast. One moment Ah was staring helplessly as the undamaged machine brandished an iron beam at me like a club, and the next? Pink and Bit ended the threat to me like they always had."

"So we arrive to this morning where Ah woke up to a farewell note from Pink and Bit. They said that while they forgive me, Ah had broken their trust. And as such, they took the damaged machine in an attempt ta find one of their own kind ta fix it up. Ah want to go after them. Pink and Bit have been part of my family since my mom and dad found them, and... having them leave, it hurts. But Ah understand it, we all have to grow up sometime. Maybe it's time Ah loaded up the Marauder and headed back east to Sunshine City, so Ah can take some time to remind myself of why I repair things in the first place. Ta help others."

The audiolog cut out with a soft pause, letting out a burst of static as a second entry then picked right up.

"Okay... it's Me again!" The mare's voice came back abruptly, and she sounded completely winded as she spoke.

"Ah'm leaving this for anyone who finds this room, so they know... Ah was the one who fucked up, AGAIN, and what they need to do to keep it contained."

"Ah thought that Ah was doing the right thing before going home. Ah wanted to try ta put that machine back together. Ya' know, the one that Ah'd said Pink and Bit blasted ta save me? Ah don't know if it was something Ah did, or put together wrong, but this... THING is NOT the machine Ah'd met before. Tha old one felt like it had a personality, like it cared fer it's hurt friend. That's gone now. The moment Ah managed ta get it working again, it tried ta take over any machine in range and ordered them ta kill me. I'm only alive because I managed to use it's own signal against it, cutting off it's control, but... I can't shut it off now."

"Do NOT let it out. Do NOT listen to what it says. It will beg, it will plead for it's life. Keep. It. CONTAINED."

"Despite it's second attempt on mah life, Ah can't bring myself ta destroy it again. It's not my place to interfere anymore. So as selfish of me as it is, Ah'm leaving this record here for anyone who finds this place. I'm begging you, DON'T destroy it, but keep it contained to the basement if you can't finish what Ah started. Ah'm sorry for giving you this burden, but if you let it go in this state, I'm sure it WILL kill you an' any other pony it finds."

Maybe it’s just me, but that sounds just a bit too close to how Red is.

"And on the off chance that who's listening is tha other machine, tha machine Ah worked on tryin ta fix, Ah want to say that Ah'm sorry. Ah'm sorry for breaking your trust, and Ah hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me. Ah really did have the best of intentions, and Ah promise that should Ah find any more machines out there, Ah won't make this same mistake again. Harmony, out."

“See, do you idiots get it now?” Synchro grumbled through a pained whine. “We’re protecting everypony with that signal. A signal that through my resounding genius, I’ve recently managed upgrade and amplify it in order to cover the whole Seaddle area.”

“Hey, quick question, Night.” Hispano spoke calmly as she put her talon on my side. “Why the fuck does that sound exactly like Red?”

“So it wasn’t just me.” Buck nodded, pushing his worried look further across his face.

“Let me guess,” I knew I was taking a shot in the dark, but I had a really bad feeling that I knew the answer, “This amplification you did, I’m betting it was in the last couple of months?”

“Yeah, wha… how the fuck would you even know that?” A wave of confusion flushed across Synchro’s muzzle before he shook it off.

“Did the damping signal get interrupted at all during your ‘upgrade’?” I sighed.

“Hey, my work speaks for itself!” Synchro chuffed as he once again winced from his wounds. “I mean, yeah, maybe the signal wasn’t up for every single little second, but I managed to do what no pony else could! I replicated the original inverted signal! I’m protecting this whole city now!”

Knowing how fast Ping can transfer himself, if this really was Red’s prison, then even if it had been for a small window, it could have done the same. Even without the relay network we’d helped the Factory get up, Red could have moved from machine to machine until it landed inside the perfect host body that I let Mr. Wizard setup.

“It’s gone.” Hispano spat out. “You aren’t protecting this city from anything anymore.”

“Wha-what?” Sandy gasped and almost did a complete one eighty, placing herself between Buck and Synchro. “No, that’s not true! Synchro’s judgment may be questionable at times, but he’s the best arcane-cyberneticist this side of the wastes. He would never let that thing in the basement out.”

“Then let’s see it.” Hispano cooed as she hefted up her sister. “One twenty millimeter round worked the last time we ran into it.”

“No, you can’t destroy it!” Sandy took a single step toward Buck, looking up pleadingly. “Look, if I show it to you, if… if you truly know what it is, then you can help it.”

“If it is what we think, there’s no helping it.” Buck turned away from her, stepping over to Hispano and I. “And if it’s gone, then its body must be destroyed.” With his normal soft touch, I felt myself relax completely as he scooped both Hispano and I up and brought us against his warm chest. “Either way, we have to know.”

“Fine.” Synchro grunted. “Sandy, take them to the basement.”

With a reluctant nod from her, she turned and headed through the door and into the garage. Buck looked down and traded concerned looks with me. We both didn’t want to be right about this, but Buck had a point. We had to know.

I could feel his grip tighten around me as we entered the rear of the shop. The room opened up into a larger space than I’d expected. Four large doors with foggy glass windows lined the wall, bathing each separate maintenance area of the old garage in muted daylight. Various boxes, crates, and rusty toolboxes were strewn around, as well as more than a few wheeled carts with old parts on them.

Once again, I felt a pang of regret that I didn’t bring dad along.

“Got a lot of projects for just the two of you.” Hispano offered as Buck took us past the first maintenance bay.

The half-stripped hulk of an old motor wagon sat elevated off the floor, under it, a selection of parts and tools had been mindfully laid out in what seemed to be a specific order. There was an old technical manual set carefully at its side, and among its yellowed pages, I could see an old hoof-drawing of those same interlinked gears as the logo of this place on the pages. From the patchwork of welds and cut bits of frame, it was easy to see that the old vehicle had been through the ringer at least a couple of times.

Still, somepony must have thought it was salvageable, and to Sandy and Synchro’s credit, the whole thing made me realize that I’d seen a vehicle almost exactly like this once before. The memory of that strange pink pony back at Pink Mountain came to mind, as well as the motorwagon she’d been working on in the out-of-time garage I’d seemingly stumbled into. My eyes wandered the side of the old hulk for a moment, stopping where the chrome logo had been. While scuffed and charred, it sat right where the pink pony’s motorwagon’s had. It was hard to make out with just a passing glance, but I’m sure it said Marauder, just as the other one had.

“Hard to believe just the five of you out here can keep this place safe.” Hispano continued, pulling my focus back. “It’s a wonder you haven’t been bulldozed by raiders.”

“Five?” Buck almost missed a step as he glanced down at her. “It is only Sandy and Synchro as far as I understand it.”

“Javelin and her brothers do a good job at handling most threats.” Sandy smirked as she looked back at Buck. “Had you not lost your sense of smell, I’m sure you would have known they were in the wastes monitoring your approach.”

“They’re… competent at concealment I guess.” Hispano cooed begrudgingly, bringing more than just a little smirk to my muzzle. “But that’s hardly enough to keep a raiding party out. Plus, if that little display from your partner is anything to go off of, I think my point still stands.”

As we walked by the second maintenance bay, my eyes were drawn into the open rear compartment of the towering form of an old armored pony transport parked there. The inside was basked with a warm glow of a few lights, and a soft looking but empty bottle covered bed stretched from wall to wall. From the few bits of broken glass on the floor, it didn’t take much to guess that this was where Synchro slept.

“You’re right.” Sandy nodded as she brought up her one blue forepaw. Even in the muted daylight, her surprisingly short claws scattered the light like diamonds as she wiggled each digit. “Just knowing there’s a hellhound on the premises is enough to keep most troublemakers out. But there are some who are dumb enough, or think they’re lucky enough that they have a chance.” Pulling her paw up to her muzzle, she forced a sharp whistle through it. “Lily, run maintenance checklist omega.”

A sharp beep emitted from the strange machine sitting over bay three. A white metal box the size of a motorwagon hummed to life, adjusting the suspension for each of its strangely simplistic metal wheels as a mast-like pole hoisted a spritebot-like bulb into the air. With a whirr, the mis-sized eyes of the stick-bound spritebot swung around and down to meet Sandy’s gaze before they spun with eerie precision to the three of us.

Three quickly sequenced clicks came from the body of the machine, allowing a few of its exterior panels to fold away to reveal three mechanical boom-arms that ended in different glowing magical weapons to extend out. A whine from the side of the robot followed a new, silver boom being raised, but this one soon hinged forward, revealing the barrel of a robust breech-loading mortar system. From the front, a hatch slid out of place, and a ball-hinged machine gun pushed outward, distracting me from the fact a four barreled rocket launcher had raised up from the rear end of the machine.

“Goddesses, how many fucking weapons does this thing have?” Hispano chirped as I could feel Buck’s arms pull us both just that little bit tighter against himself.

‘Thank you, Lily.” Sandy gave a quick wave of her metal-claw to the bot, pulling an almost cheery sounding beep out of it. Just as quickly as it had become bristling with weapons, the machine folded and tucked everything away under its own panels, returning to looking like a strangely simply white box after the fact. “Lily here is what keeps us safe from those dumb enough to actually try something.”

“Yeah, next question, where do I get one?” Hispano chirped before Buck shifted a flat gaze down at her.

“Sorry, she’s one of a kind.” Sandy chuckled. “She was a prototype moon rover back during the war, but they abandoned it in favor of researching some larger automated miner or whatever. Synchro stole her out of a museum back east a few years back and retrofitted her into an adaptable, multi-role survival robot.”

“A few years back?” I spat out without thinking. “What, when he was a colt? He looks to be just about my age.”

“Well yes, but that’s…” She started to reply, but snapped her muzzle shut. “Let’s say it’s a part of his life that we’d both rather not dwell on. He’s always been a prodigy with machines, we’ll just leave it at that. But don’t tell him I said that, I’ll go right to his head and you’ll never hear the end of it.” With a soft touch, she held her robot arm as she paused that turned toward the only empty repair bay in the room. “Alright, just down here.”

The old wooden hoof-built stairway that dipped into the maintenance pit in the bay floor looked well worn, and creaked heavily as even Sandy’s lighter form stepped from stair to stair. As she got to the bottom, she turned and looked up to us expectantly. It wasn’t until things were quiet for a second that I’d noticed we weren’t moving, and Buck was hesitantly looking at the old stairs.

“Don’t worry about those, they’ll outlast all of us.” Sandy laughed as she gave a wave of her mechanical arm. Turning, she pushed open a rusty set of double metal doors open and disappeared from sight into the concrete wall.

As Buck hesitantly walked down the stairs, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the open hole in the concrete we were headed for. It didn’t help that I already had a hunch for what we were about to see. Hell, the hiding place back at the Factory was pretty much the same thing. But it wasn’t the idea of what was inside that made me uneasy, but why it was inside here.

The original Architect had been alone at the Factory. But, Mr. Wizard said he was already damaged when he stumbled upon him. And I guess I’d assumed that when he said he’d mistakenly trusted an organic once before, that he’d meant Mr. Wizard. What if it wasn’t him, what if who he’d really been talking about was this mare who’d tried to help before?

There were so many questions this brought up. What happened to the other machine that took him north? Why did it leave him in the science center alone? Why did he never come back to look for his friend down here? Or was that the original reason he’d sent the lost Ping units down here in the first place? Did he already know about the true source of the signal and always had this as part of the plan for me when we got down here?

Turning to face the cramped concrete stairwell, Buck lowered Hispano and I back to the ground. Trading glances with Hispano, she nudged me to go first.

So many questions, and no way to know for sure what the truth about the architect was. But what was real, what could be known, was at the bottom of these stairs. With that in mind, I hobbled my way down them.

Sandy stood waiting at the bottom, leaning up against the wall. She giggled to herself as she looked past me, pulling my gaze back over my shoulder. While this hallway was fine for even her to have walked down on her hind paws, Sandy was closer to Hispano and my height at her tallest. Looking back up the stairs, Buck had shifted himself onto all fours and had to carefully guide himself at a slight angle to even fit.

Reaching the bottom, I looked around to find a quite cavernous round room around us. Rows of triple bunk beds sat along the walls just to the left and right of me, ringing half of the circular room. A few tables and benches sat at the end of every other row, covered in old foal’s games or stacks of yellowed novels. A simple kitchen and empty pantry sat directly at the back of the room, coated in dust and having long since become too rusted to think of using. To the right of it was a heavy metal door with the faded word Reactor Room still legible across its flaking yellow paint. To the left of the kitchen, was a makeshift scrap metal door with crudely painted stop sign on it, and one hell of a heavy looking steel beam baring it closed.

To think there was a whole megaspell shelter built under this garage…

“Just over here.” Sandy nodded to me as Hispano reached the foot of the stairs, and Buck slowly made his way down just behind her.

With hesitation in nearly every step, the until now fearless hellhound made her way over to the scrap metal door. She gave a quick rub at the metal socket that replaced her shoulder and spun her cybernetic clamp around under the beam. With a surprisingly soft touch, she grasped at the beam and lifted it from the door. Almost as if she were holding her breath, she carefully maneuvered the beam over and set it down like it was made of glass.

“We haven’t… opened it since Synchro made his modifications.” She offered with a nervous smile. “It also has been fairly quiet since then. So… I’m not sure what it’ll do when I open this door.” Turning back to it, she put her paw on a small latch that had been hidden by the beam. “Just remember what the recording said. Don’t listen to it.”

With Buck making his way up behind Hispano and I, Sandy flipped up the latch, and pulled the door open.

Inside the small dark adjacent room, was a whole lot of old arcane terminals that lined the walls. Each one blinked and hummed as it worked through some set of coding or another. Each light and line of code trailed light across the half of a dark figure that hung from a chain secured into the ceiling. With a flicker, the small dome-light behind it illuminated, and I could finally see the front half of a skeletal mechanical zebra pointing a single dimly lit red eye at the floor.

It was very much just like the original Architect’s body, however, it was missing the odd mis-sized eye on the right side of its head. Rather, this machine’s skull looked just like that of a normal zebra’s. Well, if their skulls were made of metal and wires at least. On the right side of it’s skull was a flush cap in the same place where the Architect’s processor was, though this one was sealed and still had the number 5 stamped into it.

“Hey, you still in there ya’ old tin can?” Sandy barked at him. “Time to wake up.”

“Finally decided I’m worth selling as some sideshow attraction, Sandy?” The familiar voice that came from the machine startled me, and forced Sandy to take a step back. “I suppose it was only a matter of time. Heh, well gawk away, organics.”

It was strange though. Red’s voice was monotone, lifeless and uncaring. This voice was closer to sounding real than that, and completely unlike what was described in the log. As it slowly raised its head with a mechanical whine however, it looked like every bit of it seized up when its eyes fell on Me. It wasn’t until his eye shifted again over to Buck that he spoke up.

“So… he did make it after all.” It laughed at us. It was so unnervingly close to Red’s voice that every hair on my body wanted to stand on end with that laugh, but I tried my best not to show it. “And after all this time, he’s finally sent someone to free me from this prison.”

“Free you?” Sandy scoffed. “You tried to kill everypony last time you were ‘free’.”

“That was almost forty years ago.” It was weird to say, but the machine rolled its eye at her before doing its best to do a skeletal deadpan. “You organics obsess over the most trivial minutia, do you know that? Besides, I’m sure as two of my three new friends will agree, you’re not like other organics. You’re artificial, just like me! Well, at least, in part.”

“Not by choice.” Both Buck and I spoke up at the same time, pulling a somewhat confounded look from the hanging machine.

“Oh, come on, you can’t be serious.” It huffed as it looked between Buck and I. “I mean, Seven was always a good judge of character when it came to organics, so for him to choose you to join him, you’d have to agree!”

I’ll give him this, he seemed convinced of himself, but it wasn’t until he mentioned the Architect that I had to think back to what happened with Red at the Factory. I know that Unit One hadn’t been the original Architect, but… what if he did know that Red had been this machine here? What if that’s the reason he tried so hard to keep us from shooting it that day? Why he tried so hard, even knowing he was dying, to convince him to stop what he was doing?

“The Architect is dead.” I offered the machine, pulling its unwavering gaze to me. “The machine he built to replace himself carried on his vision to protect and help us ‘organics’ through his Factory.” I shook my head. “A lot has happened since you became trapped here, but the Factory doesn’t hunt organics. It helps them.”

“No.” the machine shook its head. “No no no, that just won’t do!” Its voice wavered, almost sounding… sad to me. “You… you don’t understand, we had a plan! It was going to be just the two of us! Seven and Five, the future founders of Factory Zero One! He couldn’t have gone and done it without me! No… it’s wrong. Tell me then, why? Why did he leave me here to suffer like this?”

“I…” Looking over to Buck, he seemed equally as unsure how to answer that. Do I tell him the truth? That the Architect never told anyone about him? Should I even say that when I don’t even know why he never mentioned him?

“Oh… oh, I… understand.” He nodded to me as his tone shifted to something sharper. “No, I get it now. You didn’t come for me, did you? You didn’t even hear my distress signal.”

“Oh, they came because of the signal, alright.” Sandy chuffed and crossed her arms. “Just the modulated one we put out to contain you. Only now, it’s… causing problems.”

“Eh, that’s a close enough description, but not important right now.” Hispano answered as she took a step toward the machine. “And not that I can trust a damn thing you’re going to say, but we really need to fix that signal now.” Hefting up her sister onto her shoulder, she turned and gave the machine a healthy dose of her patented side-eye. “So are you going to promise that you won't go ‘kill all the organics’ on us, or are we going to have to ensure that the hard way?”

“Hispano.” Buck huffed sharply, giving her a light bump with his paw.

“What? This is the machine that spawned Red the murder machine, isn’t it?”

“Red?” The machine canted its head at Hispano before turning its attention to me, and then quickly to Buck. “What is this ‘red’ the griffon speaks of?”

“Don’t play coy with them.” Sandy shifted herself to stand between his gaze and Buck. “You got out a signal when Synchro was working on you last, and as I can only assume, it’s caused some sort of problem where they’ve come from.”

“An overly simple summary, but yes.” Hispano muttered under her breath before she shifted Suiza’s grip down into her talon. “So, care to revise your statement?”

“Oh, you mean that program!” It let out a nervous laugh that once again made all the fur on me nearly stand straight up. “You see, I was confused when you said…” It paused as Hispano flipped the safety off of her sister. “Ah, well you see, I was getting a bit desperate after so many years left languishing down here. So I saw an opportunity to copy myself and send it out into the world during the short window I had.”

“So, you did send out Red.” Hispano smirked and raised the barrel of Suiza at the machine.

“Wait, you’re mad, and that’s understandable!” His panicked tone came with a jerky shaking of its head that made what was left of its body torque and tug against its bindings. “Please, just hear me out first!”

“Speak quickly.” I offered as I sat down and used my hoof to push Suiza’s muzzle down a bit. I could feel Hispano’s glare drilling into the side of my head, but I at least wanted to give Five here a chance to explain himself.

“The window, it was shorter than expected! Only my core coding made it out!” He spoke frantically like he was out of breath as his gaze quickly darted between the four of us. “I knew there was a possibility that not all of me made it into the signal, but I thought if that was the case, my program wouldn’t even work at all! I never thought even a partial me could be functional!” He paused and jerkily turned his head down to his half body with a nervous laugh. “Well, I mean in the programming sense at least.”

A sharp whine filled the air, and a thick beam of red shot across the room from the machine. No, not from, through. Sparks and a digitized scream emit from Five as a hoof sized hole was melted right through it. The light in its eye dimmed as it locked it on the last thing it would illuminate.

Glancing up, I saw Buck’s outstretched mechanical arm slowly draw his glowing magical energy pistol back inside of it. His expression was hollow, and he didn’t seem to even breathe as the sparks and crackles from the melting machine filled the air.

I was too stunned to think and too confused to even convince words to slip out of my muzzle. What had just happened!?

“Buck.” Hispano huffed as she slumped and lowered Suiza’s barrel all the way to the floor. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“I was no fan of that thing, and maybe that was for the best” Sandy offered as she stepped over and put her paw on his arm, “but what made you do it?”

“I…” Buck blinked and looked first at her paw on his arm, and then up to her as he seemed to come back to his senses. “I felt him, as he talked. He was probing, testing the signal. It was like a nagging thought, small and insignificant, but there all the same.”

“Yeah, he was probably trying to get out like always. Trying to figure a way into your system to jump somewhere else.” Sandy sighed and rubbed at his metal arm. “That’s why the recording told us not to listen to him.”

“No, that’s not what he was doing.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “He didn’t want to leave, he wanted control.” Opening them again, he kept his gaze on me, letting me see for a fact that he’d just been nearly scared to death. “He tried to make me kill all of you. He never wanted freedom, he wanted you all dead.”

“Then it’s for the best, you did what needed to be done.” I nodded to him before turning and throwing myself into a hug against his furry chest. “It’s over then.”

“Yeah, no it’s not.” Hispano chuckled in the same devious way she always did when she was about to do something unexpected. “However, let’s just make sure it will be.”

I’d hardly had time to cover one ear before Suiza let out a burst of fire that blinded all of us. By the time I could blink away the shine from the muzzle flashes, all that remained of Five and the terminals around him was assorted scrap and the top half of his metal skull.

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Sandy grumbled as she flicked at her ears and walked over to the skull on the floor. “Still, like you said, it’s probably for the best.” Reaching down with her clamp, she grasped the metal skull in it. Pulling it up and twisting it, she brought it up to look at her. “Alas, poor Yorick. Rust in pieces, asshole.” Her clamp whined, and slowly the metal skull crumpled inward like a tin can. “You know, mom, your hatred of robots is really starting to rub off on me…”

Author's Note

Despite this chapter taking six months to get out, I cannot express my thanks to Thefurryrailfan for still being there to give things a once over!

Of course, a huge thanks to Kkat for giving us all this fantastic universe and letting the rest of us run around in it with our own stories!

And lastly, thanks to all of you for your patience with me. Six months isn't trivial, and I'm going to do my best to keep this length of a break in content from happening again until the story is over. Thank you all for continuing to come and read about Night's slice of the wastes!