Smile, it makes people wonder what you are thinking.

On one hoof, Buck was alive.

On the other, I couldn’t really comprehend what I was looking at through the thick glass of the surgery observation room. The same black and white furred Snow Dog I’d fallen in love with still breathed softly as he lay in his hospital bed. A single, solitary, sterile-looking machine sat beside him, giving the room a cold and lonely feeling to it.

But those familiar bits I could see of him were the flesh and blood parts, and those bits were now a dishearteningly small amount of him. Four mechanical limbs, bulky metal constructions, and more wires, tubes, and hoses than I cared to count made up the rest of Buck’s broken body. So much had been bolted on to him that I would say that he was more machine than dog now.

“What…” I almost choked on my words, choosing to force them out as I focused on holding back the tears in my eyes. “What did you do to him?”

“Unfortunately, what we had to.” The solemn voice of Doc Groovy spoke up as he floated into the observation room. The soft yellow glow that came from each of his three eyestalks focused on me as I turned to meet him. “But I assure you, while it may look bad from here, he is making a remarkable recovery.”

I hadn’t seen any of the old world ‘Doc Handy’ units outside of pictures in my school books. However, the Enclave supposedly had more than a few still operating up above the clouds in the Neighvarro infirmary. Still, it was odd to have the floating soft pink painted ‘doctor’ give me a check up and tell me to take some more Chill. I mean, his bedside manner left a lot to be desired, but he was alright I guess. Outside of Buck, that had pretty much been my experience with half the doctors in the wastes anyway.

“Well, let’s start from the bottom up, shall we?” Doc Groovy’s solemn tone dropped out with the subtlety of a brick dropped in a glass house, switching to one that was far too upbeat. “We amputated his legs at both femurs, removing fatty tissues and some muscles to create the foundations for the new pair of legs he has.”

I couldn’t help but look back down at Buck as I listened to the Doctor. His ‘new’ hind legs followed almost the same size and form that his flesh and blood ones had, but were hydraulically powered skeletal frameworks that ended in thick rubber pads on the bottom of metal hind paws. The massive muscled forearms he’d once had were both replaced with surprisingly bulky and boxy metal limbs, and ‘new’ more proportionally sized and intricately articulated paws sat where his old ones had. The large metal digits on each of the ‘new’ paws also sported the same rubber pads on them as his hindpaws did, and looked incredibly out of place without the oversized claws he once bore.

“As you can see, we also amputated up to the Scapula, and gave his forelimbs the same treatment as his hind ones. And as our records indicated, Dr. Buck was a skilled surgeon, so we took the liberty to include a full suite of automated medical tools inside of his upgraded arms for him to utilize. Each arm is now a veritable hospital in its own right!” Doc Groovy’s tone shifted again, sounding more upbeat and quite a bit happier than I felt it should have been given the context. “I dare say that now he’s been ‘upgraded’, he’ll be the most efficient organic surgeon in the wastes!”

That made my eye twitch.

“He was already a fucking good surgeon.” I snapped at the robot Doc, whose eyestalks pulled back from me as I nearly wheeled around right into one. “What fucking right did you have to ‘upgrade’ him in the first place!?”

This… this is not what I thought it would mean to save Buck. He’d already thought he was a monster, and now, the moment he wakes up, he… I don’t even know what he’s going to think...

“He consented.” Doc Groovy said so matter-of-factly that I almost wanted to grab onto one of his eyestalks and yank it out. “That gave us every right to perform these procedures.”

“I was told that he was half fucking doped up when you asked. How is that consent!?” I snapped back at Doc Groovy, who at this point, seemed to not react with the same instinct to pull back as before.

“You would rather we did not install the reinforced dorsal column, or positronic ambulary re-mobilizer? How about the synaptic regulator, or the micro-dialysers? Perhaps you also would not have liked the ionic pulmo-diffuser either?” Doc Groovy assaulted me with terms I didn’t understand faster than I could even process what little they meant to me. “You see, all of what I listed are internal organs that needed to be replaced. And without these replacements, Dr. Buck would have invariably suffered greatly for a short time before he inevitably perished.”

“Internal…” I gasped as I looked back down through the glass. I hadn’t even considered what might have been injured on the inside of him.

My eyes were drawn along the still healing gash that stretched across most of his furred chest. The wires and tubes that came through various ports and metal bits across it helped me to understand just how much of him was gone on the inside as well. My heart sunk at the sight, and my eyes traced up along his body, stopping on his head.

“What…” my voice died in my throat as bolted onto the side of Buck’s head, I found a nearly identical, but more invasive setup that the Architect wore. Metal plating covered the top of his head, with a thin seam splitting it almost right down the middle. “You didn’t… remove his brain, did you?”

On either side of the metal skull cap, ears that looked more like triangular radar antennas sat stiffly pointing up on articulating mounts. The half of the jaw that had been stripped to the bone when I pulled him from the wreckage, had been replaced with metal that was formed to mirror the jagged jawline he’d once had. Tubes ran along the underside of his throat, dipping under his fur and skin and flexing as he breathed slowly.

Lastly, the injury where the metal plate had impaled his head. The Architect-like setup covered the left half of his head completely. A pair of mis-sized red camera-like optics sat around a wide and currently closed central black aperture that protrude from where his real eye once sat.

“Oh, no, nothing of the sort.” Doc Groovy spoke up before giving out a soft beep from his floating chassis. “However, there was extensive brain damage.” With a shudder, the seam on Buck’s head split apart, and the metal skull cap opened like a hatch. Sitting under the protection of a clear glass dome in some sort of viscous fluid, was something I’d never wanted to see in my life. Buck’s brain. “The clear casing itself is built out of highly polished cubic zirconia, similar to the one that surrounds the decaying element where his heart once sat. However, that machine uses the element’s interaction with the cubic zirconia to generate a constant flow of spark power to keep his augmentations running. Both his brain and heart should be near impervious to most weapons, however just in case, we have wrapped them both in a removable titanium shell.”

“B-but… why?” I couldn’t tear myself away from the soft, ebbing glow that emanated from inside his head.

“The metal plate we removed from his head had caused considerable optical and temporal lobe damage.” Doc Groovy answered bluntly. “We repaired it enough that it should restore close to normal functions on it’s own. However, with the augments and improvements we added, he should in fact find himself with those abilities somewhat enhanced. I’m sorry to say though that the olfactory cortex portion of his brain was the only section to be completely unsalvageable, and we do not have a suitable replacement ready for him at this time.”

“Wait so… there was something you couldn’t save?” I wanted to be angry that they’d done this to him, but… I couldn’t be. I still didn’t understand any of this doctor talk, but as much as I wanted my gut to tell me that this was giving me a bad feeling, it wasn’t. “Tell me, Doc… what does that mean for him?” My mind raced as I prepared to hear him tell me that he wouldn‘t remember me, or that he was going to be an emotionless machine for the rest of our lives.

“Well, Canine physiology holds that the olfactory part of their brain as the most complex. More complex than even we here at the Factory have yet to even begin to understand. So until we can miniaturise sensors of that nature, I’m sorry, we can’t help him.” Doc Groovy let out a sigh as he reached up with one of his articulating claws and patted me on the back. “He’ll have completely lost his sense of smell.”

I leaned forward at that and bonked my head on the glass window.

“So that’s it then?” I sputtered as I turned around and looked at him. “Otherwise… he’ll be normal, right?”

“It will take his mind time to adjust to the new connections we have installed, as well as the lack of a sense of smell.” All three of the eye stalks on Doc Groovy nodded as he hovered up and bobbed in a way that gave his cheery voice a bit more life to it. “But yes. Given a week or two, the factory will have helped his brain regain both his mobility, and his sense of self again!”

“The… factory?” I found the words tumbling from my muzzle as always as I blinked up at the central eye bobbing in front of me.

“Why, yes. The Architect, Ping, Doc Sea Shell and I are all currently helping his mind recover as we speak.” Doc Groovy nodded his eye as he pulled his claw back from me and tapped it against his pink painted chassis. “I am quite proud of how quickly the temporal uplink we installed has retrained the motor cortex to account and adjust for the input lag of his artificial limbs. As long as he stays within range of the factory’s broadcast signal, we should also be able to make code corrections on the fly should he encounter any software based problems once he is well enough to leave.”

“So you’re telling me he’s connected to the four of you?” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, or how it was remotely possible in the first place. Again, this is why I wished I had Hispano here. She was the techno-babble whisperer, and I’m sure she’d be able to sort the real from the bullshit here…

There was a knock at the door behind me, and I was met once more with Ping’s smiling muzzle.

“He’s not connected with just the four of us.” Ping’s lighthearted tone, while still off for the weight of the subject, did do a bit to help keep me calm. “Let me explain. With as fast as the wasteland seems to be changing for the better, we here at the Factory can no longer ensure that we stay hidden from the world. So you see, we needed an organic subject to help us communicate, negotiate with outside parties.”

“So you just, what? Stuffed Buck full of a bunch of equipment because you had a plan to use him as your ambassador?” I know that they’d just saved Buck’s life, and that I should be grateful to them for that. But again, I can’t help but think that he wouldn’t have approved of this.

“We had surmised that the highest probability of successful negotiations with the outside world would be through a mainly biological medium.” Doc Groovy spoke up, floating and taking a place at the side of Ping in the doorway. “So we knew we needed to adapt one of you to suit this purpose. One of you that perhaps may not have had any other way to regain a normal life.”

“Yeah…” Ping’s wide grin shifted slightly as he reached up and rubbed at his neck. “Most of the Factory had a running bet that it would actually be you, Night. You have an incredible knack for getting hurt.” Well, at least that made sense to me. Hell, I would have bet on me too. “Still, with Buck in the state he was in, we assumed it would be the best outcome for both parties. I am sorry if it feels like we overstepped our bounds, but it really will benefit every party involved.”

“I… I don’t know.” I sighed and sat down. Holding my head in my hooves, I almost wished that I could get Buck’s advice right now. Or Hispano’s, or Delilah's even. “As long as Buck can get back to being himself, I guess there’s no point in dwelling on a decision I can’t change.” Looking back up over my hooves, I watched as both Ping and one of Doc Groovy’s eye stalks traded a quick glance. “So then, what happens now?”

“Maybe it would be best for the Architect to explain, along with why we need your help.” Holding his hoof out to me, Ping nodded to the door. “You may come back later, but you should let Buck rest for now. In the meantime, I will take you to the hub to meet up with the Architect, as well as somepony who is very excited to finally meet you face to face.”

The wheels of the small motorized cart Happy, Ping, and I had crammed onto squealed as we rounded yet another corner of the labyrinth like maze of concrete tunnels. The small cart wasn’t all that unusual I guess, with four wheels and two rows of bench seating, it seemed like a reasonable design. However…the remarkable thing about it was that instead of a driver sitting at a wheel, there was a squat, vertical metal cylinder. A dark glass ring split the cylinder in half, and a single glowing red eye wandered back and forth underneath it.

“See?” Happy nudged me with a smile. “Isn’t this better than walking?”

I gave him a nervous nod and tried to tell myself that I would have preferred if someone actually had their hooves in control of this thing. But, I guess at the very least we weren’t going all that fast, just below at a galloping pace. Still, I did have to give it to him, at least this way I got to quickly see just how expansive this place was.

At several points, a tunnel we passed looked to run off either into another of the enormous metal irises like at the entrance, or into a dead end of jagged rock. Machines with smaller, but similar design styles to Eliza worked at those dead ends, drilling holes and stringing together wired charges to prep the tunnels for excavation. With as large and empty as these tunnels were, I couldn’t imagine why they’d need to expand more. Then again, it’s not like I haven’t deserved a few answers…

“So… what’s this whole place for? What are you building?” I asked Ping as a few silverfish drones darted down the long corridor from one of the excavation areas. Each one of them carried a small metal box under them, and I could have sworn that one yawed as we passed, turning to look at me specifically as we continued our drive down the tunnel.

“The factory of course!” Ping smiled like he had since we met him. “The Architect has great plans for the future of the machine hub, and so preparations for expansion have been ongoing for many years now. In fact, we are almost finished with the current project.”

Expansion? This place was already a lot bigger than I’d expected it to be. Were there really that many machines out there roaming the wastes?

“How many machines are here now?” I found myself asking as I always did, without thinking.

“Two hundred and fifty six currently reside within the Factory’s walls. However, only sixty four are currently in command of mobile service units, myself included, of course.” His smile widened as he proudly pressed his forehoof against his barrel. However, his smile faltered after a moment. “That is also including the three units currently here who are unable to maintain a permanent presence inside the factory’s mainframe due to various reasons. A condition that we are afraid will undoubtedly affect at least a few more machines as they arrive here at the Factory.”

“Eliza, P.B., and Ottie are the three.” Happy spoke as he shifted a bit in his seat, bracing himself as we rounded yet another corner. “You know, just in case you were wondering.” I shot him a confused glance at the names. Seriously, what the hell happened to Happy?

Maybe they replaced his brain while I was out…

“Hey, bud, I was skeptical too at first.” Happy reached over and gave me a nudge. “The first day you were out? I wouldn’t be caught dead alone in the same room with them. But, then Ottie wandered in, and he just started asking me things. Things like who ‘The King’ was, and what wearing clothes is like, or if I knew what a pineapple tastes like.”

Again, Happy was so calm, so sure that these machines were okay, that I had to question if it was because he didn’t understand the risks here, or if he really was right. He chuckled a bit as he pulled his hoof back and used it to straighten up his floral print shirt.

“It was… awkward, but before I knew it, I was talking to him about things just like he was any other pony in the world.” Happy shrugged and looked over to Ping. “I’m telling you, Night, the machines here? They aren’t all that bad. And even with as lazy as you think I am, I’ve seenbad happen out in the wastes, Night. If they wanted to do anything, they’d have done it to us already.”

“As I have said, we have watched and planned for your arrival for some time now.” Ping nodded and smiled again. “And do not worry, you will have a chance to ask more questions soon, I assure you. We will clarify any and all of your concerns before you agree to do anything to help us.” Ping raised his voice a bit before I could even speak up. Almost at the same time, the cart began to slow as we approached a large set pair of thick blast doors. “However, I am pleased to inform you that we have arrived at the command center.”

The doors looked almost identical to the ones that had sealed away the megaspells inside the ammunition Depot back at Destruction Bay. It even had an identical looking terminal next to the door and everything. All it needed was a big skull painted onto it and you could have probably tricked me into thinking we never even left that place at all. With a short ring from a small red bell next to the door frame itself, there was a tremendous slam as whatever internal mechanisms inside the heavy doors moved about. With a slow ratcheting, the enormous doors began to swing open.

Inside, row after row of softly glowing lights brightened the expansive and jagged walls of a cavern. It was roughly dome shaped, and was probably the size of a Cantercross city block. Hundreds of hanging rock formations adorned the ceiling like rusty spikes just waiting to come down and impale us. Unlike the natural rock roof, the floor was made out of a single highly polished slab of metal. Metal ventilation grates sat recessed into the floor, and wafted small clouds of steam out of them.

The echoes of distant working machinery could be heard from deep within the dark holes. It was about then I had the realization that while these tunnels may have seemed endless, we hadn’t traveled vertically at all. Who knew how deep this place went, or just what was down below...

Soft blue light glowed along one of the walls, out of sight through the open blast doors. I knew that the pit in my stomach hadn’t shown back up, but I couldn’t fight the idea that something about this was still off. However, as if he knew, Happy gave me a pat on the side as he scooted himself off of our robotic ride.

“Relax, Night.” He offered as he held his hoof out to help me off the cart. “Trust me, this place is pretty fucking cool.”

Rolling my eyes, I stepped off on my own. Goddesses, let’s just get this over with. Just… keep a cool head, Night. Remember what you’ve learned from Delilah and Lilac. Act the part, be confident, and be mindful of what they really want out of you. You’ve got this, and you aren’t going to be pulled into any situations you aren’t comfortable with.

Well, any situations less comfortable than the one you’re currently in at least…

Trotting through the open doorways, my hooves clacked uncomfortably loudly on the smooth metal flooring. Punctuating each clack was the sharp squeak that the rubber pad of my prosthetic gave, and my steps carried an odd cadance through the empty room. Not only that, but each step echoed throughout the cavern, bouncing unpredictably from all around me and forcing my ears flat as to try not to focus on too many directions at once. The soft blue lights I’d seen came into view once I was far enough in. Turning towards it, the light ended up being the glow from nearly a hundred terminal monitors aligned in a large rectangle.

On it, was a map of the world, or at least, how it sort of used to look. Some of the borders of Equestria and a few other nations were cut into small jagged sections that were out of place. I squinted as I watched these relatively tiny sections of land shift and changed color now and again. It took me a moment, but my eyes wandered over to small lines of text periodically appearing with each change of color.

Underneath that text, also lay two different numbers. A red number, which displayed 10,261,985. And a blue number that simply displayed 0.

“Ah, you are just in time!” The Architect’s voice made me jump, and my wings unfurled instinctively to try to bring me to a hover. Which of course, ended in me coming down on my hooves with another heavy clack. “Oops, I did not intend to startle you.” He chuckled as his clinking tracks pulled him into view out of a dark corner beside the softly glowing monitors. “I only meant to draw your attention to the end of this simulation sequence.”

“What?” I asked as I tried to calm my spiked heartbeat. A bit jumpy, aren’t we? Trust Happy, Night. “W-what’s the big board for?” I had to force the words out as I tried to keep my composure from collapsing in the first seconds of arriving.

“You could say it is a... pet project of mine.” The Architect’s smile almost glowed in the dim chamber lighting. But however bright of a smile he was beaming to me, the intense red lights from the optics mounted to the side of his head certainly beat it out. With an electric whine, his tracks torqued his snail like shell, dragging him back around to nearly face the glowing terminals. Holding his hoof out, he nodded for me to look at the screen. “Ah, as a pegasus, you might find what is about to appear in the lower corner of particular interest.”

Squinting, I watched as the small bits of text came and went, flashing up names I didn’t recognize, as well as a [Win] or [Loss] next to them. And, as promised, one did flash up that nearly took my breath away.

[Sirocco Canyon][Loss]

“But we won the battle at Sirocco canyon!” I spat out, thinking back to the military history mom had recounted at me for years in an attempt to beat it into my head. “That was the largest recorded battle involving raptors ever fought in the whole of the great war!”

Not only was it that, but it was the crowning achievement for the pegasus airforce. It was the day that we finally secured air superiority over every major wartime opponent. I mean, it only lasted a week before the fucking zebras… sorry, everyone megaspelled each other. But still! It was a hard fought victory that my mom took pride in recounting, and as much as other tales and records had been, it wasn’t Enclave propaganda. Pegasi as a whole had lost too damn much for it to have been anything other than the truth.

“Yes, you are correct that Equestria had indeed won that battle.” The Architect’s smile pulled wider as he shifted himself to face me again. “But the battles on this board? These are hypothetical battle outcomes for the war. Every battle since the invention of the megaspell, in fact. I had a hypothesis I had wanted to test, and so I have been doing just that for years now.”

“What? You mean that’s what all this is?” Happy muttered as he trotted up to my side and cast a confused look across the big board. “I thought you just really liked geography or something...”

“My theory was that the end of the pre-war world was inevitable.” The Architect turned his gaze back to the board, but didn’t shift his tracks again. “I wanted to see if there was any combination of battle outcomes that could have shifted the outcome to one of peace. By using information pulled from surviving Zebra Empire and Equestrian military databases, I have been able to extrapolate the most probable event timelines in each of the tests run so far.” With a sigh, he slumped in his shell mounting before turning back to me with a frown. “The results of which, are clearly marked on the bottom of the board.”

So that’s what the red and blue numbers meant…

“So you’re saying you’ve run this test…” Pausing, I had to do another double take of the numbers. “Over ten million times!?” But… why!? “What’s the blue number mean then?” I forced myself to ask, but in my heart, I was pretty damn sure I already knew.

Instead of answering, the Architect just turned himself to look at the board. With a bright flash on two of the screens, Vanhoover and Marewaii were removed from the board. The words 'Launch Detected' popped up at nearly every old megaspell complex in Equestria, and trailing dotted lines started to travel en masse to and from each and every nation involved in the war. I blinked as the lines stretched across the board, falling on every country, and with another red flash, the whole map disappeared.

After a second of silence had passed, the dark screen flickered, and the big board came back up to display what looked like the mid-war borders of each country. Of course, the borders began to shift again as the names of battles started to pop up in the corner again, and I took notice that the red number had gone up by a single digit.

“The blue number represents the test conditions that contain a combination of successful battle outcomes that would have resolved the conflict through peace.” Shaking his head, he brought his forehooves up and clopped them together twice. With that, the board disappeared. Instantly, the map of the world was replaced with a hundred different camera images of what looked to be the wasteland. “It would seem that given all the data we have so far, the only winning move for the war, was to not have invented the megaspell in the first place.”

“It’s always sodepressing when you bring that board up, Architect.” The booming but silky smooth voice of DJ PowerColt resonated through the entirety of the cavern itself. “Why not just sit back and let me whip up some relaxingtunes to soothe your soul?”

A few sharp electrical snaps punctuated his words behind me, and caused my mane to all but stand on its end. Turning around, I had expected to find a pony in power armor, but was disappointed to only be met with Ping’s smiling face. Blinking a few times, he seemed to realize my confusion and raised his hoof to point upwards behind him.

I had to crane my neck up to see just where the voice had come from, and was met with pretty much a building sized box obscured in shadow near the other end of the cavern. A cylindrical tower pushed out from the smooth obsidian colored box, stretching upwards to almost the lowest hanging rocks from the caverns roof. Two short ear-like fins buzzed and arched electricity between them as a central glowing red eye sat below them ominously.

How the fuck did I miss that when I walked in!?

“Well hello there! You must be the survivor. Believe me when I say, the pleasure is all mine.” DJ PowerColt’s admittedly sexy voice almost vibrated the air itself, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit that his dulcet tones shook almost all of the anxiety I’d been feeling straight out of me. “Welcome to our humble little home. As you know, we’ve had our eye on you for some time, and I personally am honored to meet a hero such as yourself in the flesh.” He gave a deep laugh that lit up the red light in his frame, and rumbled the metal floor itself. “Well, at least one of us had the decency to show up in the flesh.”

“B-b… big...” My brain was shorting out as I tried to comprehend the fact that DJ PowerColt was not just a machine, but that he was a fucking big machine. Granted, it should have been fucking obvious in the first place that was exactly what he was. Still, even though Ping had said I’d meet him, I didn’t think he would be so… large…

“You should know, DJ,” Happy snickered loudly, “Night here just can’t seem to help himself when he gets around bigger, non-pony guys.” My cheeks burned as I wheeled around on my prosthetic and gave him a hard smack with my forehoof. “Oh! From the way he’s blushing, it looks like it’s true!”

“Hey!” I snapped at him, giving him another hard slap. I don’t care that he had made yet another perfectly valid point, it’s not like I wanted to sleep with a metal box! “I’m sorry I can’t help that a voice like his is something anypony could fucking lose themselves in.”

“Careful now, flattery will only get you so far.” DJ PowerColt let out a short, but similarly booming laugh as before.

“Yeah, to about as far as access panel 31-P…” Ping muttered below his breath.

“See, Night! I told you that you’d think it was cool.” Happy rubbed his forehooves together as he took a seat beside me. Just because it was super cool to meet the DJ, it didn’t mean he could embarrass me like that. “I’m just happy because I was fucking right! I can’t wait to collect those caps from Cora over our bet.”

“You made a bet that he was a machine?” I cast a sideways glance to Happy. Pft, yeah, while he may have had a rational point when Hardcase had suggested the DJ was one of us from the future, this was not an idea he’d put forward.

“No.” Happy grumbled and crossed his forehooves. “Cora said he thought the DJ was a ghoul. I’d bet him that he wasn’t even a pony.” Waving my forehoof for a moment at the DJ, I didn’t really get how that won him the bet at all. Happy harrumphed and stuck up his nose at me. “Well, he’s not a pony, now is he?” That’s not the point!

“On your feathered companion, I actually have news that may be of interest to you.” The Architect made a noise like he was clearing his throat as he spoke. Turning, he pointed up to the collection of screens again, which flickered together and resolved into a single large image that nearly made my heart skip a beat.

Hispano...

She was lying prone on what looked like the concrete top of one of the beachside skyscrapers. Suiza was laid down on the rooftop next to her, and in her talons looked to be an old set of binoculars. The camera angle pulled back a bit, revealing that what we were seeing was probably a video taken by one of the Silverfish drones that loitered about the city.

“Your griffon friend, Miss Hispano, has returned to Cantercross and has managed to track down the location of her father.” Bringing his hoof up to his chin, he rubbed at it as he studied the image. “It is… problematic, as we have yet been unable to ascertain exactly how she intends to go about getting her father back.”

“When was this?” I asked as I instinctively took a step forward. Oh, Hispano… don’t do anything stupid…

“This is a live feed.” The Architect remarked as the drone shifted its focus up slightly. “If you wish, I am able to direct the video to see what she is looking at.”

With a flick of his hoof, the image began to move again. The glare of mid-day sunlight beamed off of the old glass skirt that ran down from the thermal updraft tower in the city. It made it difficult to see just what Hispano was looking at through the glass, but as the camera zoomed in a bit again, it shifted from the bright glass, to instead what hung over it. The glass windows of Mr. Wizard’s house were as clear as they were before, and inside, I could see the old ghoul lounging on the couch that Cora and I had been forced to sit on.

“We believe that for the moment, she is only performing reconnaissance on Mr. Wizard’s accommodations.” The Architect turned to me with a frown and shook his head. “However, we only have a limited window before she constructs and attempts a rescue plan.”

“Okay.” I nodded and glanced back towards Happy and Ping. “Then I need to get back to her then.”

“You mean we need to get back there.” Happy snorted as he stepped up. “I owe that asshole some payback. Plus, we need to work together to break Cora out of that douchebag's house, right?” Turning to look at Ping, the zebra machine’s smile spread across his muzzle as he gave an excited nod.

“Cooperation ensures success.” The Architect nodded as he turned his attention back towards the image on the screens. “We understand, and are willing to help. However…” He paused in such a way that it kicked at my brain sharply. Right, this is where he injects his request for us to go kill somepony first or something like that, right? The Architect reached a hoof up and tapped at his chin as he turned back to me and continued. “There is a zero point six percent chance of succeeding in a direct assault with our current combat capabilities.”

“Alright, then how do we fix that?” I turned and looked back to Ping, who’s smile quickly died and was replaced with a sort of grim look. “That Bi-pedal machine I saw the other day could probably take on a whole army by itself. Why not ask them to join?”

“P.B. is needed here to defend the Factory.” The Architect sighed. “As you may have noticed, very few of us are designed with combat applications in mind. The few that are, are needed to protect the Factory should an unpredicted threat arise.” Well he had to have something here to help, and I was about to say that when he raised his hoof to me preemptively. “I know you may question that, but I do have another solution in mind.”

“Recalling the operators?” Ping spoke up with a note of concern. “Are you sure that is wise? We have not yet heard back from them, something may have gone wrong in their task.”

“Operators?” I asked, looking back to Happy who only offered me a shrug and a look that meant he was just as confused as I was.

“The Factory has negotiated with outside parties before, which we refer to as ‘operators’.” The Architect spoke up as the images on the board behind him shifted into one that showed a large, boat-like airship docked outside of the main gate. A group of ponies were shown as offloading scrap and supplies, as a pair of them talked with the Architect himself. “One such party is currently on a job we have calculated as a necessity to the stability of the northern wastes. Unfortunately, they were supposed to send a signal to be picked up a day ago, and we have yet to receive it. If contact were re-established, then a pickup could be arranged and they could be brought in to help out with the operation.”

“You want us to go and check on these, mercenaries?” Happy spat out.

“That is correct.” The Architect nodded as he looked between Happy and I. “And should they need it, you may be required to assist them in their task.” The way he said that punched just enough that it got that pit in my stomach to form.

“Okay, look, I told Ping that I wasn't going to do these sort of blind jobs.” I muttered as I sat down and crossed my forehooves. “Either tell us exactly what they’re doing, or we aren’t going to do anything your way.”

“A year ago, the Puritan Kingdom defeated Mr. Wizard’s garrisoned guards around the M.A.S. experimental propellants facility, and set up their own camp there.” Again, as he spoke, the big board behind the Architect changed.

This time, it showed an aerial view of a large multi-building factory-like complex. Thousands of different pipes ran through each building, as well as to and from dozens of different sized storage tanks around the facility. Shipping containers and crates were scattered around the outside, absolutely filled to the brim with some sort of white substance.

“They have been trying to get the propellant factory running again,” Ping cut in, continuing the explanation as he trotted up to the Architect’s side. “so that they can sell the fuel around the north. This influx in capital would give them the resources to build and equip a sizable enough army to destabilize the north, and they would soon after start a conflict that could devastate eighty nine percent of all northern settlements.”

“The mercenaries I have sent have orders to permanently disable the propellant manufacturing machines, nothing more.” The Architect gave a wave of his hoof, and the terminal screens flickered, turning back to a hundred different images again. “If they require assistance, it would more than likely be nothing more than suppressing fire so that we can bring them back safely. Killing is not required on this job, nor will it be for any task we ask you to perform. However, just in case, it would be beneficial to go prepared for a fight.”

Well, at least that was a more honest explanation of things than I’d normally gotten from somepony wanting my help. Still, this was just a detour that could be wasting valuable time in getting back to Hispano and Cora. But again, I was conflicted, as the Architect had no reason to really lie to us, and I’ve said before we’re going to need all the help we could get…

“Fine, we’ll do it.” I sighed and looked over to Happy. At the very least, he gave me a strong enough nod that seemed to back me up on that. “But, we don’t have any gear, and being as ‘peaceful’ as you claim, I don’t suppose you can help with that?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…” Happy spoke up, and to my surprise, gave a short whistle. “They’ve got a lot of guns here.”

Oh, really now…

“Before you question it,” Ping blurted out sharply to derail my train of thought. “wartime firearms are the best source of high grade steel for our salvage and reprocessing centers. We are recycling them into supplies to build both the Factory, and to rebuild the rest of the world. Nothing more.”

Okay, I had to admit, that at least sounded genuine. And again, without any real reason for them to lie to us, I guess I could buy that explanation. Still, I’d love to see these guns being melted down into these supposed construction components. But that can wait until after we get Hispano and Cora back safely.

“If all is sorted, Ping will take you to get geared up.” The Architect gave a somewhat formal half-bow from his armored shell. “For now, I must deal with the mayor of Tungsten, as it seems Eliza’s repeated sightings have caused a bit of a stir amongst the townsfolk.” He waved his hoof as his tracks clanked and turned him to face the big board again. “But that is no problem of yours. By the time you return, I will have new information on Hispano and her father, as well as all the resources ready that are necessary to plan the rescue mission.”

“Alright then.” Ping flashed his overly jubilant smile again as he trotted to Happy and I and pointed back toward the cart still waiting in the tunnel. “Shall we?”

“Oh, and before you go, Night,” The Architect called out before I could move. “if Buck awakens, I will be sure he is tended to and comfortable until your return.”

“Thank you.” I nodded before turning away with Happy.

Was I worried about going out on a job for somepony I barely new? Yeah. Was I sure if we’d be able to get back to Hispano in time before she lost her father? No. The only thing that mattered to me right now was getting myself armed, and focusing on the job. One hoof in front of the other, one goal to conquer before the next. First Hispano, then Cora, then we go after Solomon.

“You’re starting to sound like a real soldier now, Night.” It was faint, but the voice of Violet in the back of my mind sent a shiver down my spine. “The Enclave minted officers with mindsets like that.”

But as Happy wrapped his hoof around my back and pulled me close, Violet’s voice was squeezed out of my mind as we walked. In place of her presence, the same pins and needles numbness of before flooded through me. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it still left my mind feeling empty and lonely without her or Buck in it.

“Don’t look so concerned, bud!” Happy laughed as we trotted back to the cart. “Everything will work out fine! I mean, at least it always has for you.”

As he said that, the images of Dad, Violet, and the whole damn crew of our convoy flashed through my mind.

“Yeah, sure.” I sighed as we climbed up onto the seats of the motorized cart again. For just a moment as I got myself seated, I spotted a violet pony at the far end of the tunnel. I blinked instinctively, and just like that, she was gone again. “Just need to take it one hoofstep at a time.”

“That’s the spirit!” Happy laughed and gave another few rough pats on my side. “Now, it’s time to go shopping!”

We’d been riding on the motorized cart for about another ten minutes before we came to a stop in front of another metallic iris doorway. This one however held an oddly metallic rainbow patina to it, and from the other side of it, I could hear heavy rhythmic slams that vibrated the ground under my hooves. Looking down the tunnel where we’d come from, the bland concrete tube ran on seemingly forever, and looking ahead of where we’d stopped, it ran just as far that way as well.

The large metal door retracted much the same way as the one at the entrance to this place had, but it didn’t reveal another bland tunnel beyond it. Instead a room that reminded me of the Galloway Ranger’s storage hangar met the three of us. Tall storage racks reached up into a dark ceiling that lay beyond the rows of bright fluorescent lighting, each one stacked with uncountable amounts of what looked to be old world weapons. Metal tracks weaved a zigzag path between the rows of storage, where articulating and extendable mechanical claws were moving around and retrieving things on.

“Woah…” I let the words roll out of my muzzle as my jaw pretty much dragged along the floor. I’d thought I’d seen a lot of guns with the Rangers, but… they’ve got nothing on a collection like this…

“That’s what I’d said.” Happy chuckled softly before he shot his hoof out and pressed it against my side. “And these are just the broken ones.” With a gasp, he dropped his voice to an excited whisper and tapped at my side repeatedly. “Oh! There she is!”

He forced my gaze down just to see what the hell had him acting as annoying as his old self again. It took me a moment to realize he was pointing to a pony-like robot sitting at a table near the end of one of the storage racks. ‘She’ was sitting at what looked like a makeshift chess board, and across from her was the copper and brass pony I’d seen earlier when I awoke.

I blinked as the machine Happy pointed me at looked nearly identical to those old ‘Giddyup Applebuck’ automations that were sold back during the war. However, this one had a sort of caution yellow colored paint job, and sported crash-test markers along her boxy mechanical limbs. Where a pony’s normal facial features would be, were muted and detailess shapes that were only somewhat generally defined.

Oddly, the thing that stuck out the most about her was the metal cowpony hat she wore. Other than a few slight dings, and the fact that it was in dire need of a new coat of paint, it was in fantastic shape for something that hadn’t originally been intended for her to wear. She brought her mechanical hoof up to her head and scratched at it softly, shifting her hat with a light metallic squeak as she did.

“Hehe!” Happy giggled as he leaned over to me and whispered. “Alright, watch this, buddy!” He could hardly contain himself as he straightened up and cleared his throat. “Hey, yo, Sierra! How’s it going?” He spoke up as he trotted over towards her. Confused, but not yet feeling the pit in my stomach bothering me, I decided to follow him.

“Oh hey, Happy!” Her voice carried a sort of southern cadance to it, and it sounded awfully familiar to all those historical videos made by the mare who ran the Ministry of Wartime Technology. “Fancy seein’ ya down here. What can I do ya for? Y’all lookin’ ta get geared up?”

It was odd to watch her look over and wave at us when she had no eyes to see us with, or mouth to speak out of. But I’d seen what Ping looks like under his projection, so I knew they didn’t necessarily need those things in the first place. Still, it was slightly unnerving to know a machine didn’t need ‘eyes’ to see...

“Yeah, we’re here for that.” Happy turned back to me and snickered as he nodded. “And of course, I just wanted to introduce you to my buddy here, Night Flight. Figured you could tell him about how much you like to go out antiquing!”

There was a bang like a gunshot, and the machine mare looked like she outright exploded. Her main boxy chassis flopped onto the floor as her limbs flew in four different directions, and her ‘severed’ head gave a bounce before it came to a rest almost at Happy’s hooves as he busted up into deep, gasping laughter.

“Consarnit, Happy!” The angry voice of the mare came from her head as it rolled softly against his hooves. “I told y’all not ta go spoutin’ that word out aloud! You damn organics need to be slaughtered! When I get my shit back together, I’m going to terminate you myself, you ungrateful little pony shit!”

To my surprise, Ping gave a light chuckle as he walked over and picked up the mare’s head in his forehoof. A string of angry gibberish emitted from the crash-test-pony’s severed head that must have been a language of some sort, though I had no idea which one.

“Oh, come now, Sierra.” Ping frowned at her as he spoke. “The Architect only told Happy your safety-disassembly word because he knows you need to work on that infectious temper of yours.” Hoofing the mare’s head over to Happy, she emit a low growl. In response, Ping shot the mule an expectant look. “Besides, Happy will not do that to you again, and he will in fact help get you put back together. Is that correct, Happy?”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean nothing by it, Sierra. I was just having some innocent fun!” Happy sighed as he sat down and held the mare’s head out in his hoof. He gave her a forced frown as she emit a grumbling noise. “Aww, come on! You know I’m your pal, and I know you can find it in that heart of yours to forgive me.”

“Grrr, fine.” She relented as her legs started to flop around behind her. “But only ‘cause I know the Architect wants me ta get past this darned stripe virus. I’m just about sick an’ tired a’ feelin’ like killin’ ponies all the time.”

“That is the spirit! Keep fighting back that system corruption and you will have it purged in no time!” Ping gave Happy a pat on the side before pointing over to Sierra’s various body parts. “You however, need to get her back together while Night and I get Ottie to open up the secure holding room. Alright, Happy?” Happy nodded and carried Sierra’s head off, while Ping waved for me to follow as he walked over to Ottie.

Trotting up to the makeshift chessboard revealed that this particular game had been going on for some time. While I couldn’t exactly identify which assorted mechanical part was supposed to represent which game piece, each player was missing five pieces from the board. Ottie’s nixie-tube eyes flickered as the tiny gears and mechanisms that controlled them kept up a studious and intense look across his mechanical face. He glanced over to see Ping and I, shuddering before having to do a double-take in realizing we were watching him.

“Oh, hi!” He gave a light wave of his leg as his eyes visibly brightened. “Sierra is teaching me how to play this ‘chess’ game. It’s been quite the learning experience so far!” He shifted himself on his metal haunches as he turned his attention back to the board. “I’ll be free in just a moment… soon as I figure out what move to make now…”

“If I may make a suggestion?” Ping asked as he smiled at Ottie, waiting for the antique-looking automaton to give an excited nod. Reaching up to the board, Ping moved what I could only assume was the ‘knight’ piece to a new spot before stepping back with a look of contentment. Raising his hoof, he cleared his throat as he looked back at Happy and Sierra. “Sorry, Sierra, but I do believe that with that move, Ottie has you in checkmate.”

“What!? Now that ain’t fair!” Sierra shouted and flailed her limbs as Happy struggled to keep ahold of them. “Should’a just stuck ta playin’ tic-tac-toe...”

“No, it was not fair to you, but neither was running statistical analysis in your background processes after each move Ottie makes.” Ping gave a light laugh before turning and winking at me.

“Oooooh!” Ottie gave a delighted gasp, and the mechanisms that moved his ears whirred as they perked them. He leaned in and studied the board again as his polished brass and copper plating across him almost seemed to glow under the fluorescent lighting. “I never would’ve thought to make that move! Hehee!” Raising his forehooves, he clonked his hardwood horseshoes together, clapping as his eye-tubes flickered brightly, taking on a bit of an inverted ‘v’ shape. With another gasp, he turned his eyes toward Sierra, the filament inside changing back to the usual circles. “That was fun! You want to play again?”

“Sierra can play you again later. For now, I need your help with the door.” Ping smiled as he stepped between Ottie’s gaze to Sierra. “Alright?”

“Okay, Ping!” Ottie smiled in his own odd way as he picked himself up and trotted down the aisle next to him.

“Do you know what you are looking for?” Ping asked as he continued to beam his own smile to me.

“Yeah, this isn’t my first time getting geared up.” I offered back as we both turned to follow Ottie. Granted it would be my first time without any real help, but that didn’t mean much when I didn’t have to pay for whatever I chose. Well, I suppose if I made the wrong choice, the payment would be my life, or worse, somepony else’s… “I think I’m just going to see what you’ve got and then find something I think will work.”

“Sounds fair enough!” Ping said as he picked up the pace. “Once you are set up, we will head back outside and be on our way to retrieve our operators!” Sure, but if it ended up being that simple however was yet to be seen. “Then it will be off to rescue Miss Hispano and her father, and then… well, then the Architect will need to speak with you again.”

“About what?” I asked bluntly enough that it looked like he almost tripped over his own hooves.

“Do not worry about that for now,” His smile flashed over to a nervous one for a moment. Like, literally flashed over with a burst of magic. “At this moment, all you should worry about is what gear you want, and how we are going to help Hispano get her father back.”

His answer didn’t sit right with me, but he still had a good point. Both Buck and Hispano were alive, so my focus was on keeping them that way for the rest of our lives. Regardless of what Ping or the Architect had planned for me, dealing with it came after saving what was left of my family.

“So, Sierra’s going to need a moment to boot up again.” Happy smirked as he trotted up to me. His approach was all the excuse Ping needed to pretend that everything was alright for the moment, and I think Happy caught on to that as his smirk faltered momentarily. “You show him the door yet?” Or… not.

“I have not!” Ping’s signature unnaturally forced smile beamed as he spun on his hooves and trotted down the same aisle that Ottie disappeared down. “If you would kindly follow me.”

“Come on, bud.” Happy gave me a few reassuring pats on the side as he picked up his hooves and followed after Ping. I simply rolled my eyes and followed him. “You’re going to want to see this door!”

Why was it that everytime somepony said that to me, I just knew it was going to lead to something bad. As if it agreed to that, my stomach gave a low grumble. Though, it was hard to tell if it was because something bad was going to happen, or because I don’t know when the last time I ate was…

Then again, as I looked ahead, it was decidedly because something bad was going to happen.

“See! Isn’t this thing sweet?” Happy laughed as he trotted up to a thick vault-like door with a skull painted across it. The same skull I’d seen previously at that foggy old ammunition depot in Destruction Bay, in fact. “I mean, I ain’t one for being too flashy, but it certainly gets the message across. Am I right, or am I right?”

...Fuck.

Author's Note

As always, many thanks to TheFurryRailFan for his help in getting this chapter refined for posting! Also, a big thanks for the use of his character Ottie, from his story Iron Horses!

And of course, a giant thanks to Kkat for letting us all use this setting for our own stories!