Chapter 3

“Wellsprings”

Ponies! How noble they are! How quick to sacrifice… someone else!

* * *

“Hello, Wasteland! It’s Cloud Waker, your host. You’re listening to Free Stalliongrad Radio. The weather forecast isn’t very promising today, guys. Our wondrous celestial hosts from Enclave are probably happy as winter is coming, which means that more wild clouds will wander over our lovely Wasteland. A large cluster of storm clouds is approaching the Long Seventeen. Settlements such as Wellsprings and Goodwill should get ready for cold rain. Put the barrels outside as the clouds seem to be healthy. Remember to always check it, though. You can never be sure of what comes from the sky.

* * *

When I lived in the Stable, I never expected that I’d have to take a life. I dreamed about becoming a mother, raising my foal with Coldbrew. I was a technician, repairing terminals and I didn’t need anything to be happy other than my love and my child.

I felt like my dream had been turned inside-out and left to dry like an old sock. I didn’t become a mother. I didn’t feel life growing in me and I didn’t give the world another creation. Instead, I killed. Instead of giving life, I took it from an unfamiliar, sapient being.

I stood over the still-warm body of the wolf, having no idea what was happening around me. Only after a while that seemed to last forever, I realised what I’d done. I started to cry; my whole body hurt and I could barely breathe, staggering. I sat next to the wolf and poked him with my hooves. Maybe he wasn’t dead and I could help him? Too bad, he didn’t react; the hole in his forehead and three more in his side were bleeding, although I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.

I’d only hit him once, with my last shot, at nearly point-blank range. The mare from the cliff hit him three times in the said, but it was my shot that killed him while his momentum allowed him to grab my neck by accident. He slid off of me and then it was just crying and fear.

I’m not sure how much time I spent by the corpse, but finally I managed to get up and walk. I felt dirty, tired, thirsty and hungry. The dirt was what hurt me the most, aside from the shock. I felt dirty in body and mind, as if I tarnished my very soul. I was just fed up with this day. Even that mysterious mare in a trench coat from the cliff vanished and wouldn’t appear even when I called after her. I was alone.

I focused on the last thing that Coldbrew said to me: running. It wasn’t a real gallop, nor even a trot because my muscles burned as if set aflame, but I strolled forward, tripping and sniffing at that. The target on PipColt’s map wasn’t far away… I will find help there.

* * *

I didn’t know what to expect from Wellsprings, or any other village on the surface for that matter. I imagined it as a Stable, just without the corridors or a roof. In some sense, it was exactly that, though I didn’t expect brick walls around it and two gates. Both gates had guard houses above them, their roofs made of wood and rusty corrugated sheets. The whole town was built in the middle of the road, or more like, on the sides of it. The buildings were wooden and brick with the same metal sheet roofs as the guard houses. There was a big tent field within the wall and an oval market place in the middle of it all, creating a sort of a crossed out circle.

I rested a bit and trotted down the road as fast as I could. Not even an hour later I was standing by the gate. Locked. I looked up, at the guardhouse. The sky was growing darker; the first sign that the night was close. Ugly clouds were gathering above the town. They were dark, almost black.

“Hey! Is there anypony there?!” I shouted towards the guardhouse.

After a while, I heard some shuffling, as if someone moved a chair, and a brown earth stallion in a cowpony hat leaned over from the window, yawning. A barrel of a carbine stuck from behind his back.

“What?” he asked in annoyed voice, apparently woken up from a nap. “Business? Where are ya from?”

I lay my ears flat against my head. I didn’t like the way he was talking to me. Besides, I only needed help.

“Please! My coltfriend and I were kicked out of the Stable! He was kidnapped!” I cried as woefully as I could, trying to make him feel remorse. He only looked at me and kept staring from the tower. “Please!”

“Show me your left hoof and your side!”

His command surprised me, but I did what he wanted. The sight of my PipColt and the yellow 69 emblazoned on my dark blue stable suit seemed to interest him the most.

“By Celestia and Luna in the heavens above, take a look at that!” He exclaimed, suddenly more energetic. “ It’s been ages since someone from 69 came! Keychain! Open the damned doors! Whitesabre has a new client!” He yelled to somepony inside and the metal gates made of the same corrugated metal that the rest of the town used started opening with a loud whine.

“Thanks!” I shouted to him and trotted inside, trusting the safety of the town’s walls.

Keychain started to close the gates after I walked through them. He was a very muscular pink earth pony with blue mane and a keyhole as his cutie mark. The brown pony walked out of the guardhouse and went downstairs, sending Keychain there. Then he stood by me, correcting the position of the rifle on his saddle. I’d never seen someone without the security uniform wearing a battle saddle, but apparently there were different rules here.

He stood close to me, waiting until I got used to the new views. There were many colourful ponies walking along the street from one building to another; some of them walked towards a large structure near the circle I’d seen from the mountain. Most of them wore some clothes: coats, hats, aprons, scarves… When I was looking at them, I felt cold despite my suit. To be honest, the town stank. From all the places, I smelled cigarette smoke, spoilt food, and gutters.

“Let’s go. Whitesabre will talk with you. She has a sentiment for stable ponies.” He was rough and he obviously didn’t see me as anything more than a nuisance. He even eyed me with hunger in his eyes, which made me afraid of him; but he didn’t do anything to make me feel like running away.

We started to walk as he said. After a while we trotted across that strange circle I’d seen before. When I asked him what was that, he said that it was a market place and urged me not to stop, as there was nothing interesting in there. He was very rude.

We stood before a big, wooden building. It was very long with a terrace in front of it, and it had a thatched roof, making it completely different from the rest of the town. It had a second floor, and many of windows with glass in them, stained with dirt. A gravel path led to the entrance, which was topped with a big banner with a sign saying Wellsprings Motel.

The guard went inside, leaving the door wide open. I felt a wave of warmth from the inside and I heard muffled sounds of conversations. It wasn’t that loud but it made me remember how the corridors of the Stable sounded in the rush hours. I almost shed a tear for the memory of a place where I was never supposed to come back to.

The guard yelled out to a white mare with black mane that stood behind the counter, that someone from a Stable has business with her, pointing his hoof at her for me to follow. He told me the mare was called Whitesabre and that she would take care of me. He left immediately after that, going back to the gate.

I moved forwards, the door slamming behind me. The ponies went silent, watching me with curious looks on their faces. Most of them didn’t seem very nice. I was surprised that the majority of this population were stallions, with only a hoofful of mares. In my Stable, there always were almost the same amount of mares and stallions for it to be… well, stable.

Whitesabre was a milky-white unicorn, but her mane, at first appearing to be black, turned out to be of a very dark shade of green. She had a short, stallion-like tail and a long, straight mane covering her right eye and flowing down onto her neck with little curls suggesting the use of hair rollers. She was quite a looker, even if she didn’t seem to use any tricks to make herself prettier, aside from the her.

When I approached her, she showed me an empty stool to sit on. The place was a bar; there were rows upon rows of different alcohol brands on shelves behind her.

“Hello there,” she said. Her voice betrayed her age; a lot more than it showed at first. ”What’s your name?”

“I’m Sparkplug” I said, weighing my words for a bit. “That guard said something about you taking care of me, right?”

She sighed aloud and passed me a glass she filled with some Sparkle Cola from a bottle.

“I’m Whitesabre. I can’t really help you that much, dear. I can give you a job here, or direct you in a place where you can find one. How old are you?” she asked with care in her voice.

“Almost sixteen,” I answered. “But I’m not looking for a job, I… I need help! My coltfriend and I were… kicked out of the Stable. We met the Crimson Tide on the way here… And they kidnapped Coldbrew!” My emotions filled my voice at this point.

All the conversations in the bar died own, as if they all suddenly ran out of topics. Whitesabre jumped over the counter to land beside me with grace and grabbed the Sparkle-Cola bottle with her purple magic placing her hoof on my lips.

“Barracuda! Come to the bar, will you?!” she shouted to a black mare with a neon pink heart for a cutie mark who’d just served a client. Then she came back to me, “We should talk privately. Come.” She pointed at the stairs leading up and moved towards them, looking back only once, to check if I was following.

Only now I could see two things about her. Her cutie mark was a chef’s hat (something was awfully familiar about it) and on her left hoof there was a PipColt! PipColt! I trotted quickly after her.

Once we were on the second floor, she walked down the corridor and unlocked the last door with her keys. She went inside, inviting me and closing them again behind me. She did it very gently, as if not to scare me.

She sat on an armchair near the window and gestured me to sit on her bed. It was clean, although the sheets were completely bleached out of colour by their considerate age, and the pillows were patched together multiple times. There was an old radio on the dresser, which chimed quietly with the Free Stalliongrad Radio waves.

I sat down and she levitated me my glass with Sparkle Cola, and placed the bottle on the night stand beside her. Her violet eyes drilled through me, as if she wanted to glare inside of my very soul.

“Darling, please, do tell me, what happened? From the beginning.”

I told her. Everything. To my astonishment, she knew what the Fertility Law was. She listened intently when I told her about that strange cemetery place and how we found the earthly remains of that poor policepony. I told her how we searched the fuel station and how we met our first dog. I cried when I told her about how Coldbrew was caught, and she sat beside me to give me a firm embrace. I kept weeping like that and she remained with me whole the time and hugged me.

“Listen, darling… I’m very sorry to say that, but no one ever leaves the shackles of Crimson Tide. You can only be sure that he’s alive. They need Stable ponies. Or rather, our PipBucks.”

What PipBucks? Aren’t those called PipColt? Something seemed wrong.

“To use them correctly, they need Stable ponies. You can’t get him back on your own and if they’d kidnapped him, he’s already on the way to their camp near Stalliongrad.”

I didn’t want to accept it. I wanted to run after those dogs and throw myself into their slavery just to see Coldbrew. She seemed to guess what I was thinking because she took my face in her hooves and raised my muzzle to her eye-level. Those pretty, tired, violet eyes. She had to have seen a lot in her life.

“Don’t even think about it! Coldbrew had sacrificed himself so you could be free! You won’t help him by letting them catch you. You won’t be able to do anything alone. And while we’re at it, you killed a wolf, and trust me, they will search for you for that. I can give you shelter here – they respect me, but you can’t ever be seen. You must be free and live, that’s what he would’ve wanted!

How could she?! How could she say what Coldbrew wanted, if she never met him?! I was enraged and devastated. And the worst part was that deep down at the bottom of my heart I knew Whitesabre was right. Cold would have wanted me to be free and happy, even without him. I knew, because I would do the same, if I wasn’t so afraid and if I was caught by them.

I wanted to hit her. Instead, I hugged her and let the tears flow.

* * *

I had to admit, her being there for me while I was crying helped me a lot. I remembered that Coldbrew had done the same thing when my parents died. He didn’t tell me it would be okay, because he knew it wouldn’t. He just was there and I could confide in him, like in this stranger mare now.

When the well of my tears dried out, it was my turn to ask questions. She listened to me intently and answered each and every question, like a patient mother.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Silly. What do you think was the number on my Stable Barding when I left the Stable?

“Sixty Nine?”

“Bingo! You just won another round of Sparkle Cola!” She poured me another cup.

The outside grew louder with thunders but they were so muffled I paid any attention to them only once. The water seemed to drip from the clouds as if an anti-fire system in the corridors had a malfunction.

“This is called rain,” she explained to me. “It happens sometimes on the wastelands. There isn’t that much rainfall around here, but it pours like crazy over Hoofington since the Enclave has that sky in its grasp. Sometimes, a lighting will strike. It looks similar to the discharges that happen on Trotsla coils in the Generator on level six, unless they finally fixed it. I remember that it constantly burnt through electronic circuits in devices.”

”They didn’t fix it. The discharges are still there,” I said calmly and looked at her in puzzlement. “So… Coldbrew and I weren’t the only ones who got thrown out of the Stable?”

Whitesabre only sighed and levitated a cut crystal drinking glass from her drawer. I saw glasses like that only in the Overmare’s office before; it sure did surprise me to see something like this outside of the Stable. She poured herself half a glass of cola and filled the rest with whiskey. She tasted her drink for a bit, cherishing its aroma, and finally turned her attention back to me, looking at me with hurt in her eyes.

“No, not just you two… But, unlike you, I wasn’t thrown out with somepony. The Law of Fertility is a lie. The mares and stallions in 69 are as fertile as they possibly can. Me and you… We were tricked. I doubt that you’d have any problems with getting pregnant,” she said with a hint of anger in her voice. It wasn’t directed towards me, at least.

“From time to time they implant some mares. Usually once in five to ten years, but it isn’t regular. The implant prevents them from becoming pregnant, and then they say it’s some kind of disorder and they remove the pair under the pretense of euthanasia. All that just to make ponies think that it’s the right thing and that only fertility is a guarantee of survival. That those who can’t have children are not worthy of living.”

After she was done, she downed her drink and sighed, her cheeks red. It looked like she needed to get something off her chest too.

“You were kicked out all alone, huh?” I asked eventually.

“Yeah…My coltfriend, Baton Bash was in security and the Fertility Law didn’t apply to him.”

“Baton Bash?” My memory started rolling. I knew this name from somewhere. Yes, I did! “When we were… kicked out, he was the Chief of Security. He has no family.”

“Oh… So we are both cursed to remain like this...?” she asked absentmindedly. “Anyway, if you ever want to have a foal, the local doctor successfully removed implants from 69’s mares twice. His name is Killerdose. If you want my advice, however… You should keep the implant. At least for now.” She said with almost deadpan seriousness.

“Why is that?”

“For a couple of reasons… First of all: a child is a hindrance in the Wasteland. Pregnancy is even more of a hindrance. Secondly, you may encounter raiders… If they don’t kill you, they will rape you at best. You wouldn’t want to be their slave broodmare and bear their children, trust me. Death is much better than their slavery.”

I shivered. The very name of those raiders was scary. Now I was afraid to even look at the walls of the town without anypony close to me.

While we sat there in silence, the music in the radio died down, replaced by the familiar DJ’s voice.

”Howdy there, my little ponies! This is Cloud Waker, your’s truly and one and only! While many of you feel the storm on their hides, I hope that our relays are fighting that pesky white noise away! Take that, White noise, HA! Yes yes, my little ponies, when I’m here, talking to you in your homes, adventurers travel the Wasteland with their glorious task of erecting our relays all over the place! Remember, any brave adventurer who is willing to help, will be awarded for their effort by the Free Stalliongrad Radio. All you need to do is come to the studio on the Steel Market in Stalliongrad, and we will equip you with all you need and a couple of caps for the road!”

By the sound of his voice, he was excited like a kindergartener who was promised some pudding. It was heartwarming that someone was so eager to just give somepony else a job.

”And now, some music, but don’t turn your radios off, for after that, we will return with another episode of ‘Cuisine Wasteland’ with our mistress of field cookin’, Whitesabre!”

For a long time did I stared at her with astonishment in my eyes and she became more and more embarrassed with each passing moment. The radio boomed with the lyrics of “Dear Hearts and Gentle Ponies”.

“You’re that Whitesabre from the Radio? But… He… You…” She didn’t want me to finish and she silenced me with her hoof put over my mouth.

I love those dear hearts and gentle ponies

Who live in my home town

Because those dear hearts and gentle ponies

Will never ever let you down

...

She didn’t wait for the song to end. “Yes, it’s me. About six months ago I went to Stalliongrad to make a deal with local traders. I needed a few more caps to finalise it and I heard that someone from the Radio founded an award for someone who could cook something good for a banquet. Since cooking is my special talent and I used to work in the canteen back in Sixty-Nine…” She paused for a moment and released me; she was still petting me, though, to calm me down. It was nice, almost motherly.

“Well… My cuisine was received so well that the director, Cloud Waker asked me to record a couple of programs and that he’d pay greatly for all of them. One never has too many caps and it was an easy job, so I agreed. And boom!” She smacked one of her hooves against the other. “They broadcast three programs a week. If I recall correctly, we recorded a bit more than a couple, so he still has a lot of stuff to broadcast.”

It was fun to meet someone who could pass for a celebrity. The Stable had only a few ponies like that, and they normally kept that to themselves. And here? Look! I was being cheered up by one. Despite my sorrow it was something funny to me and it bolstered my spirits. Something, however, came back to my mind and I had to ask.

“You said, that the Dogs need PipBucks… The devices we are wearing are called PipColt’s… What’s the difference?”

She only sighed gently. She smiled as if she remembered something nice.

“I have a PipBuck, you have a PipColt. I lost mine long ago. You can’t imagine how hard it was for me to find a technician pony capable of maintaining a PipBuck to set it up for me. I even had to talk to the Trottingham Steel Rangers and dance around them so they’d let me keep it. Techno-Dickheads!” The swear in her pretty mouth sounded really bitter and out of place. “Well, Sparkplug, PipColts are knockoffs. Very good, almost as good as the original, but still, knockoffs. I don’t really know why but that’s what the Rangers said to me. Before the bombs, Stable-Tec had monopolized the innovative technology market, but not all companies were satisfied with that state of the market.”

She’s a good storyteller, I must say that.

“There were other companies in the technological field, and many of them tried to replicate the success of Stable-Tec. The rangers said that Barn Industries was a megacorporation based on Germaneigh Commonwealth that became famous because aside from a few really good technologies of their own, all the other assets of theirs were the effect of corporate espionage and tech-thievery. They reproduced those technologies without a license. They didn’t tell me much more but my advice is this: if you’ll ever come upon a working PipBuck, ditch the PipColt. They are faster and a hundred times more resilient. My PipColt just cracked in the jaws of a Radigator.”

“Radigator?”

* * *

Stories about the monsters and creatures that lived in the Wasteland were a plenty. We talked for a very long time as she recounted her numerous tales of far and wide travels – and that apparently wasn’t even a quarter of the pre-war Equestria. She told me that she’d decided to help everypony who had been banished from the Stable This helped me forget about my miserable situation for a while. I still had to come to terms with the loss of my beloved and the fact that my life would never be the same again. When she started another one of her tales, her culinary audition was abruptly cut off, like if someone just stopped the record. We stared at the radio in anticipation.

”My dear listeners, it’s something that had never happened before! We have a caller!”

Cloud Waker’s voice was excited and there were sounds of movement and excited voices in the background as well as a bit of feedback.

”We’re listening, Who are you and why are you calling?”

It was strange to hear the voice ask a question in the air. After a while, another voice, deep and sophisticated, begun flowing from the radio, interrupted by gunshots of a high caliber rifle.

”My name is Black Gallant. About two months ago I volunteered to…”

He was interrupted for a moment by the sound of a shooting rifle.

”Scoundrels… Well, I was supposed to fix your radio’s relays in Stableditch. I just finished on this one I’m using now. I used my CB-Radio to boost the signal… I saw a big gang of Megapones. Looks like they’re marching towards Wellsprings. I am keeping them at bay for now, but they will get to me eventually… Can you warn Wellsprings? I’m in Stableditch and the Megapones will probably move on with their plan when they finish me off...”

There was a pregnant silence for a moment, only to be cut short by rushed voices, screeching of chairs and the sound of broken glass from the floor below us. Whitesabre dashed out of the room and I followed her. Something bad was going on.

We stood on the stairs, perplexed. The sight was… odd. Ten ponies of different breed and age stood in the middle of the bar, checking their weapons. I saw carbines on battle saddles, pistols, silver apples with different stripes in the middle, sometimes a blade, a sword, or a nightstick. Some of them carried CB Radio sets on their saddlebags. They looked like an un-uniformed security team during a raid in Stable.

“What the buck are you ponies doing?!” Whitesabre shouted at the top of her lungs. “If this is another hostile takeover I will throw your dumb asses outside!”

A pony of a crimson coat and white mane stepped forward. He wore an old duster; his battle saddle had a sniper rifle attached to it, his mouthgrip lowered.

“Haven’t you heard the radio? Megapones are comin’ to town! Stableditch is an hour of gallop away from here. If we canter, we will be there much faster!” He quickly finished a drink he was balancing on his front hoof. “As long as this Gallant fella keeps them busy, we have a chance to flank them and take them by surprise!” He turned to the crowd and stomped loudly. “C’mon everypony! Let’s kick some megaflanks!”

Whitesabre just stood there with her mouth agape from the shock of the view of over a dozen ponies leaving her bar. The main hall was almost empty now. My host growled under her breath and shuffled to the bar, to sit down and rub her temples.

“They’re impossible...” She looked very grumpy when she used her magic to levitate one of the still not emptied bottles to herself and sipped the drink from it.

I sat beside her and the radio behind the counter still transmitted the conversation between the two stallions.

”I’m really sorry, Gallant. Is there anything I can do for you?”

There was a bit of silence interrupted by some shots. Cloud Waker was legitimately sad about the buck on the other side of the radio.

”Actually, there is… My good friend once told me: If you must die, do so with music… There was this one song by Sweetie Belle, from before the bombs… “Why don’t you do right”... Do you have it?”

His voice was almost cracking when he spoke of his friend, but it also carried a note of hope.

”Yes! Yes, of course! I will play it for you. But don’t lose hope, okay? I sure won’t.”

There was the sound of a record being taken out of its box and inserted into a player.

”Yeah… Thanks. Gallant Out.”

There was a brief moment of white noise before the radio begun playing the music. I recognized a cello and a bass but there were more instruments.

“Now, let any of you tell me there are no more heroes in the Wasteland. People of Wellsprings, beware: Megapones are a clear and present threat to your town and lives. They may be on your porch soon if your defender fails. We keep our hooves crossed for him and let’s sing him together at homes “Why don’t you do right”.

I recognized the cello and double bass, but I could hear more instruments there; but what dominated the song was the sensual voice of Sweetie Belle, the best singer from back before the Last Day. It was amazing, even crystal clear, despite the radio.

You had plenty loving, nothing to be true

You let another mare make a fool of you

Why don't you do right, like some other bucks do?

Get over here and give me some lovin’ too

You're sittin' there and wonderin' what it's all about

You ain't got no lovin’, but it didn’t put you out

Why don't you do right, like some other bucks do?

Get over here and give me some lovin’ too

...

The rain on the other side of the window started anew, as if readying itself to wash out the blood of Wellsprings’ defenders.

* * *

When the first wave of Whitesabre’s grumpiness subsided, she decided to give me a quick course of Wasteland Economics and living out there. I still couldn’t understand the nature of money more – well, more like the bottle caps and ring pulls from soda cans. I could understand the basics though: I give something in exchange for something; but it was way over my head as to why caps and pulls and their worth: one cap was worth four ring pulls. In the Stable we were using stamps and each of them corresponded to a certain good. We also had barter, but it was mostly something for particular something. Whitesabre told me that ponies would like to have a said amount of caps for many things and that they are universal. It blew my mind!

My first response was to take off he caps off my Sparkle-Colas, but when Whitesabre realized that I wanted to open the second one without drinking the first one she stopped me.

“What are you doing?! They are worth more unopened than their caps!”

“But… But how was I supposed to know?”

“Ask your PipBu… PipColt!” she said and took my forehoof by magic, pulling it up so I could see the device’s screen. She clicked some buttons and turned the knobs and my eyes saw something which was called the Sorting App.

She couldn’t explain to me how my PipColt knew the current prices or why suddenly they were displayed measured in caps (but not in pull rings!). If the currency blew my mind, this one shattered the brain itself. It told the prices in gold bits and stamps before!

The waitress said goodbye to the last patron and sat beside us. The rain still ruled outside and beat up on the glass, but inside it was warm and dry.

“Barracuda, get yourself a drink and tell us how you got here. Sparkplug needs some varied tales of how life is in this world,” Whitesabre told her and brought a bottle.

Whiskey and cola poured down my throat and the world became a much happier place.

...oooOOOooo...

I walked and walked, but the road didn’t seem to end. The path kept going and going and I didn’t even know why I continued to walk. The only thing pushing me forward was Coldbrew’s presence and his firm smile. The path turned, spiralling downwards like a snake. I didn’t reach the half of it when it suddenly turned towards an old, rotten, and twisted forest and paved road changed into a muddy tract. Soon, it wasn’t even a path, just empty space between dead trees.

It was getting harder and harder to advance through the bog. I saw a giant moon and heard a howl. When I looked back, terrified, I heard thunder. I saw a lightning strike the ground right next to me. Giant wolves stood by and their paws held rifles that shot lightning bolts. I grabbed my pistol in magical grip and shot them. Each and one of them died, letting out a haunting howl full with pain, sorrow and accusation.

“You killed them…”

I turned to see that Coldbrew was talking to me. I wanted to hug him, cry my eyes out to him, tell that I didn’t want to. But my hooves were wolf claws now; they grabbed his throat and started to strangle him.

“It’s your fault…” he choked, getting pale. “It’s all your fault… Why did you leave me?”

I screamed.

...oooOOOooo...

“Gooooooooood morning Wastelands! This is your beloved DJ, Cloud Waker! I’ve got some good news for you! Our transmitters around Stableditch not only survived, but the storm seems to have a good effect on them! We are loud and clear now!

The radio spat out the words of Cloud Waker, and I got up, half laying on a table in the corner of the room. My head hurt a bit but I didn’t remember blacking out last night. Whitesabre and Barracuda were already working at the bar, getting everything ready to start the day.

“Long sleep ya ‘ad, princess! And a heavy one, at that. Gotta learn to sleep lighter, or some Raider will give ya a shag and ya ain’t even gonna feel nothin’ in the morning.”

I don’t know how, but Barracuda’s laughter seemed a bit slimy to me.

“And generally, before the day kicks off, there’s a fine breakfast for ya. The boss is already cookin’ somethin’ in the back and told me to tell ya the first breakfast is on the house ‘ere.”

She seemed fresh and ready for anything that the world could throw against her. I wasn’t like her. I cried quietly to myself, resting my forehead on the table and hiding my muzzle in the safety of my stable barding’s cuffs.

Why hadn’t I come back for Coldbrew? It seemed obvious: he wanted me to run. But why didn’t I come back for him after I killed that wolf? I was afraid, that’s why. I wanted help from the town, but here I heard that it’d be senseless to try to rescue him.

No! I wasn’t going to give up! The problem was, not giving up was really hard. To cry and sob was way easier, especially if you weren’t chased by someone with a loaded gun.

Something knocked in front of me and I immediately raised my head. There was a plate before me with something strange. It smelled delicious and made my tummy growl. I only recognized one thing on the plate, which was a dark, dense dough which was called a bread, but on the other hoof, the round, white thingy with an orange dome on it and some tape strips that were crispy and in brown and yellowish vertical stripes…

I even got a glass which emitted the wonderful aroma of apple juice which was familiar, as we often drank juice from our underground apple tree orchards.

“What’s this? It smells yummy!” I asked.

“It’s fried egg, chicken ones, and bacon. From piggies.” Whitesabre said and sat on the opposite of me and gave me a beckoning look.

“From… From piggies? But…”

“Don’t even start that note. Ponies eat meat too, even from the times before the war. And here, on the Wasteland, you won’t find any better source of proteins and carbohydrates. Eat, don’t cry, and you’ll see it will be tasty.

The white mare seemed to be the type that doesn’t take refusal lightly. She smiled at that and as she showed me nothing but kindness since yesterday, I decided to chow down.

“Besides.” Barracuda cut in, sweeping the floor by the table. “When a pony belly had plenty, her mouth is full and happy!”

That was enough for me. Sad or not, I didn’t want to be that way. I wouldn’t manage to do anything by being sad. Not-sad, I’d surely find means to save Coldbrew. Surely… Princesses in heavens! How tasty that breakfast was!

Whitesabre laughed and covered herself with a hoof as if to hide from the debris of the breakfast I kept devouring. Even the bacon, so strangely crispy and spicy seemed otherworldy yummy!

“Just remember Sparkplug, Hunger is your best cook… Right after me of course.” My host giggled in delight as I drank the juice after I finished the meal.

The image of Coldbrew left my mind for a time. It wasn’t that I forgot about him, but the mares were right. With a full tummy, the world seemed a lot better than it really was.

Not long after that I noticed a pony sitting by the bar, who was drinking something through a straw. He was dressed in a black, armoured trench coat like in old noir movies and he had a very unhealthy, bleak blonde mane matching his short, bushy tail that peaked from under the rim of his cloak. I could not yet determine what his coat color was, but he was the only other patron now.

Barracuda walked up to him and stood behind the counter. She looked really sourly at him. It was strange; she didn’t act like this around any of the patrons last night.

“Wanna somethin’ else?” her voice sounded, like she wanted to drop a stream of abuse on him, but Whitesabre’s stare stopped her in her tracks.

“One more Bloody Maripony…” he said in an incredibly raspy voice; as if it came from an old box.

This voice! I knew it! It was him! I stood up and quickly walked to the bar. I sat next to him and looked at him. As I did, he looked back at me and nearly fell off my chair in fear, even forgetting to scream.

The pony’s nose was flattened, as if there was no cartilage under his skin, which was dry and spread on his cheekbones; dark fur on his snout was bleached and falling out, revealing blue skin underneath. His eyes were glassy and jaundiced, with a net of red veins and ice-blue irises. With his whitened and decaying blonde mane he looked like a corpse or a mummy. The only thing showing that he was alive were his eyes and slightly dry lips. I didn’t pay attention back then, but he didn’t smell like a corpse; more like cologne.

Necro-pony sighed raspily, causing me to shiver, and went back to his drink.

“Biased furries everywhere around me…” With each of his words something was crawling up my spine, but he seemed otherwise calm and didn’t pay attention to me, focusing on his drink.

I got up unsurely and came back to the same chair. What kind of monstrous accident had happened to him? I’ve never seen such an emaciated pony, even at the retirement ward in our Stable. I couldn’t think of any words, standing there and both feeling the urge to look at him and run away.

“Are you done watching? Get out, then,” he spoke, snapping me out of my trance.

“I– I’m sorry, I just… Simply… I didn’t want to. I’m sorry, but… What happened to you?”

The pony sighed again and downed his drink, ignoring the straw. He was pretty annoyed, causing me to cower even more. He looked at me again, checking me out, and his stare mellowed a bit.

“Ah, you’re from a Stable? I’m sorry. Thought you to be another ‘wise’ furry who wanted to laugh at the Ghoul.”

“Ghoul?” I finally managed to blurt out.

“Yeah… A Ghoul… You’ve probably never met one before, huh? A Ghoul is a pony who got irradiated and wasn’t lucky enough to die. Radiation changed us. We don’t get old, but our bodies aren’t immortal. Many of us went feral, changing into mindless monstrosities. The others are like me.”

“I’m sorry… Does… Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t, now. But at first, the pain was incredible. Now it only hurts here.” He patted his head with his hoof, then his heart. “And sometimes here too…”

I lowered my head; after a moment, Whitesabre walked behind the bar. She seemed to look at the Ghoul without any prejudice.

“Do you want to eat something? Or do you want something more to drink?” she asked with kindness in her voice.

“Thanks, but no. Just pour me some more of that, please,” he answered; after a while he was sipping his freshly poured drink.

“You’re Black Gallant, right? “I inquired.” We heard you last night on the radio. You saved Wellsprings.”

“Yeah yeah, keep your shirt on… I only gave out a warning. I didn’t expect ponies to stage a counter attack, that’s for sure…“ he took a sip and grumbled for a bit. “ Those Megapones would get me for sure if not for it…”

“You’re a hero! You saved the whole town!” Whitesabre exclaimed to his modesty.

“I’m not. Ask anypony from those who came to ‘rescue’ me last night. I’m just a plain, old ghoul. If they took heed of my warning, that’s mighty fine… I’m no hero…”

When I sat beside him like that, I had to admit he was quite a nice person. I made the mistake of judging him by his appearance, that wasn’t really that bad once you got accustomed to the sight. He was very modest… Or sour.

* * *

Gallant opened up to us a bit when Whitesabre got him a bottle of Mad Stallion Bourbon, on the house; he had been eyeing it from time to time like it was a treat. She just said that in her eyes, he earned himself the bottle.

He told me that he was a very old ghoul, and that others like him don’t age at all. He said that he remembered the times when the Princesses were alive. He was a tailor before the war. Looking at his neat and well-maintained trenchcoat, I could tell he didn’t lie one bit. The thing that made me feel bad for him was that he was so old and that probably everyone he knew has died or passed away. I could relate to that.

He offered me sympathies to my situation and even said that he himself once had a place booked in a Stable, but he didn’t make it in time before the Balefire Megaspells rained down.

“So… The wolves took your coltfriend, huh? That’s bad. If the lad can’t cooperate with them he will have a tough time with them. But then again, I heard that the Wolven Tsardom needs ponies with PipBucks and that they buy slaves like them for good money. I don’t know what they need them for, but his usefulness will probably mandate him safety. Don’t worry too much, he should be fine.” His smile was ghastly but I could feel his kindness and warmth through it.

“Do… Do you think he can be bought back?”

He weighed my words for a long time, looking into the bottom of his still half-filled glass.

“No. You won’t be able to buy him back.”

My face probably became the image of the very essence of sorrow, but after just a second he took another sip and smiled again, with a wide grin. Ghastly.

“But… You could steal him back.” A big smile came across my face at those words. It just came and didn’t want to go away. It was the most wonderful thing I heard for the last two days!

“You need to organize yourself a team, and you’ll need money for that, Lassie, so don’t get your tail riled up yet. I won’t lie, the safest bet would be taking a job here, at Whitesabre’s, but if you’re not afraid and you are ready to take risks, start foraging and scavenging, like most ponies around the wastelands. Later on, you will have to locate him, and that will cost you more, both time and caps. But for starters, you should take off that blue jumpsuit and buy yourself something that will hide your PipBuck.”

I hugged him. From this close, he smelled of old parchment, but it wasn’t a stench. It was more like a delicate haze. The ghoul got quiet and stiffened for a long time before he relaxed enough to just let out a joke.

“Hey… Hey… Don’t be like that… You’re too young for me!” He giggled. “Unlike the beautiful Barmare here,” He winked at Whitesabre. She shuddered at that and so did I. “Can an old, troubled ghoul like me woo you over with his fancy words and gallantry so he could know your otherworldly beauty better?” he added with a sultry tone.

I thought that Whitesabre would hit him for that… To my surprise, it didn’t happen at all. She just took his empty glass into her magic and started to clean it with her cloth.

“Not a chance, lover boy. You’re sweet and the town owes you, but my stable is not the one you’ll find solace in.” She responded to him with the same tone of voice that he used.

“Touché, as they said in Prance in the olden days!” He responded with putting his hooves where his heart should be. “Please, forgive this old stallion for his feeble attempt at capturing your heart!”

It was fun watching them. They both were polite to each other and after the last sentence Gallant spoke, the harsh expression on Whitesabre’s muzzle softened a bit and turned into a warm smile in appreciation of his compliment. She didn’t let him realize she liked him, but I had to admit: he had his way with words.

* * *

Barracuda was tasked with taking me to the local tailor and then to Doc Killerdose, so I could buy myself some useful meds, while Whitesabre worked behind the counter. She bought everything except of my weapons from me and gave me lots of caps and ring pulls. I felt bad as she was paying me one and a half times more than she should, according to my PipColt, but she didn’t let me talk her out of it. She left me my weapons as well, saying that a mare should have the means to protect herself in the Wastelands, even in settlements. I thought that she realized that I wasn’t planning on waiting until I get enough caps. It could take me years and I wanted to act fast.

The little shop was a nice wooden house with intact glass in the front. The windows looked like the rain was the only thing that cleaned it from time to time. They were only a little bit cleaner than the glass windows that were on that fuel station from yesterday.

Inside, a mare resided. She was orange with darker spots, quite similar to those that doctor Safe Life sported, which made me wonder if they weren’t some distant relatives.

„Welcome to Le Chik! We offer clothes, caparisons and bardings and other items of passive defense! We also have special offers on our winter caparisons and hats: Buy a caparison, you’ll get one hat as bonus!”

The shop’s stocks were quite impressive. It was full of thick clothes, made, as I was told, from brahmins’ hide. So that’s how those two-headed cow-things Piggybank had travelled with were called. I learned that caravans of them were pretty popular as they could effortlessly carry more than their weight was, they were committed, and that their feces were used to make a drug called Dash. I didn’t want to know that last one.

The mare had some barding in the store. Without any qualms, Barracuda grabbed a metal coat and threw it on me. My hooves bent under its weight and I fell to the ground with a rumble.

“Yeah… Now we know bardings ain’t for ya.” Barracuda chuckled. “Prosperity, give ‘er some good caparison. I remember you ‘ad that leather one with steel plates in it.”

Prosperity, the earth pony shop owner, dived under the counter and resurfaced, carrying a black, bleached leather jacket that seemed rather heavy. It wasn’t as heavy after putting it on, though. It had belts to regulate its size and make it fit on me; also, it looked rather threatening.

“Now, listen to Barracuda carefully, for I shall say this only once: the armour doesn’t make ya immortal. Boom, headshot, ya’re toast. Most of bullets can easily pierce those plates so don’t think ya’d get a cap in the chest and keep running.”

“Actually, that used to be a road guard’s jacket. There’s hoovelar sewn inside, so most of small calibers shouldn’t penetrate it.”

“Yeah… Hoovelar…” Barracuda seemed annoyed. “Sure, shouldn’t penetrate… But if she gets a bullet to ‘er chest, the ribs will break anyway. So, Sparkplug, remember, no matter how awesome, fucking space cowboys you think you and your barding are, ya ain’t no Steel Ranger and you’d better duck when shot at, right?”

“Umm… Yeah… I get it. I’ll be careful.” I said, a bit more sure than my voice would indicate.

I felt even more sure when it came to paying. Barracuda managed to lower the price by a quarter, but it ate a half of my caps anyway. And I still had a visit at doctor Killerdose awaiting me.

* * *

Doc’s house was… different. It was built in Appleoosian style that I remembered from my history book back in the stable. It had walls painted white and it was incredibly tidy from the outside (even if the garden was potted with wrecks of different junk and machines. And it had crystal clear windows!

A sour green mare in a cowpony hat sat on the patio in a rocking chair and observed us intently. She got up once we approached the door, letting her blanket fall to the floor. She cocked her hat and stood in front of us.

“Howdy! I’m Ashtray, assistant of this here… Doc. Y’all have some business?” she spoke.

Barracuda trotted up between us as I winced at the Ashtray’s horrid accent Her parents didn’t love her or something?

“Ash, we know! You say that every time somepony comes, no matter if they’re from here or a stranger! How’s doc? I hope he didn’t complain after my last visit.”

There was a sudden tension between the two mares and they eyed each other in heavy silence. Barracuda looked viciously satisfied, which probably offended Ashtray who looked furious. I didn’t fully understand what they talked about but I did get that they didn’t like each other.

“Ashtray! How many timez did I tell you not zu pick up on our klients?

The sudden voice interrupted the mares, although Barracuda smiled in a very dirty way. From inside the house came out a gray unicorn stallion. He had a light gray mane with stripes of the color of coagulated blood. He wore round glasses covering his crimson eyes and a snow-white lab coat. A half of his right ear was missing, but he seemed very sympathetic for someone who had such a grim sounding name. His horrid hard accent however made him sound like someone who’s not to be trifled with.

Killerdose was the town’s doctor for twenty years and even though he looked well, he was slowly approaching the end of his prime. He somewhat resembled my dad: stoic, mature, someone who always knew what to do and if not, he knew what to think about to come with a conclusion.

When he heard that I was from Stable 69, he offered me a full checkup to make sure if I was alright. I didn’t trust doctors after what happened with Safe Life in Stable 69, but after Barracuda sent me a reassuring glance I allowed him to do that.

I was surprised that he didn’t order me to lay down or do anything but instead he grabbed my Pipcolt and he used the display to check my vitals. He was able to unlock the diagnostic program with ease and left it that way.

“Pipbuckz und Pipkolts are amazing devices, Zparkplug. I zee zat you vill neet zat program. You are dresset like a zeazoned adventurer!” I was slowly getting used to his heavy accent. “If zomething hurtz you, check zis program for information. It’z uzefull for ze doktor az vell!” He tapped the screen on my foreleg and sat behind his desk. “You are healthy, but should eat more regularly.”

When he stopped explaining how much exactly should I gain weight to be 100% healthy, we turned to haggling. Barracuda was a great help this time as well, but Killerdose seemed very straightforward and fair as he didn’t propose anything to rip me off even once. Although he did offer me some recreational drugs. Barracuda advised me that I should have as little of those as I could.

In the end we bought a set of five healing potions, some magical bandages with magic charges, six packs of orange colored RadAways, a drug that purged Taint from the organism.

Killerdose gave me a short lecture about drugs that can be addictive and how they work. They all had a modicum of negative effects on the body but some of them also gave good, short-term perks. He managed to convince me to buy one Hydra from him. He said that grenades and mines weren’t a rarity in the Wasteland and that the potion, apart from containing a high amount of Taint–the source of all mutations and hormonal dysfunctions–let you regenerate a recently lost limb. This was my most expensive transaction but I decided it was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

Killerdose–after paying him of course–taught me what to do after being shot so I wouldn’t bleed out, and in what situations I shouldn’t use healing potions. I had to admit, he was a good doctor, a lot more likeable than Safe Life or any other in the Stable.

From the outside came words barked by dogs. They found me.

* * *

The dog was small – smaller than me and very hairy. He wore a tight gray uniform with a red belt across his chest. He barked his words loudly. His hair was brown and it formed a kind of ‘moustache’ under his nose. He didn’t seem dangerous, despite the holster with a gun on his chest.

His two companions, however, looked terrifying. Big gray dogs with short coats. They resembled that giant dog who had caught Coldbrew, but they were much more scary. They carried modified carbines on their backs, huge and unfit for them. Their clothes consisted only of a set of red bandana for one and a right red sleeve for the other, rather than the smaller dog’s uniform.

When the two big dog enforcers looked around the town, warily, the little one gained the attention of ponies with his ruckus. His accent was even more bizzare than the one that Killerdose utilized, like if some of the syllables resonated in his throat.

“Hearry, hearry, ponies of Wellsprings! Ataman Wildblood has dis to say: we seek a pony! Orange she is and of mane in the color of midnight! She wears a Pipbuck on her leg and she’s wearing a Stable suit!”

I froze in fear. They knew how I looked like! They were looking for me! Whitesabre said they would come but I didn’t think it would be this fast!

“Guilty she is for da murder of da Crimson Tide’s officer, a high-born wolf! Her trail lead us here and towards Goodwill! Ataman promises ye a reward in caps or the one who brings her tu Derbyshire. If she’s alive: two thousand caps and a week of food or caps and ring pulls. Hiding her will be met with da Crimson Tide’s repercussions!”

Killerdose walked towards me at the window and he pushed me aside so I can hide behind a wall. He put his hoof on his mouth so I remain silent and then somepony begun shouting. Ashtray trotted towards the dogs and she pointed her hoof at Doc’s house.

“Thar’ she is! She came and went to the doctor’s house! She didn’t have her suit!”

“Dummkopf!” He cursed under his nose. ”Zparkplug, go up ze ztairz und hide zere! “ He pointed his hoof towards the stairs.” I vill zay zu them zat you escaped by ze kitchen vindow! Barrakuda! Go break it!”

I did as I was told. I went into his room and I silently trotted up to the window with curtains. I peeked out carefully just to see that the dogs were running towards the house and the doctor going out to meet them. I heard how he tried to tell them that I ran away but they broke inside anyways.

“She ran through ze vindow, Schweinehunde!” Killerdose yelled after he entered the house with them. I slowly moved to the doorframe to get a better hearing of what was going down the stairs. There was a small balcony overlooking the ground floor outside so I was hidden from view by it but could hear them well. “Scram! Go Away! RAUS!”

I could hear their heavy breaths. I was terrified to the bone. I opened my holster and took out my gun with a shaking magic field. The safety mechanism clicked and then I heard a short growl from the dog herald downstairs; some foreign words. I heard quick, heavy steps on the wooden stairs and I pointed my gun at the doorway, moving away from it, towards the window.

The doctor yelled and a big gray form obscured my view. I wanted to run my SATS spell but before it started I was knocked away with a big, hard shoulder bash. The gun fired into the air and it flew before me, breaking the window. I heard glass breaking and I saw a light accompanied by a searing pain.

The time slowed it’s flow with the SATS in place and I could see my surroundings better now. The gray dog threw me out of the window and the pistol just broke it before me. I was hurting in my head and in my sides; probably from the broken glass. I was slowly falling down, towards earth. A strangely serene note rang in my ears… Is this how dying is supposed to feel like?

I decided not to give up and do something before I’d inevitably hit the ground. I focused my spell on the big dog. He froze in a moment before he jumped out the window after me and he was grasping for his carbine. I queued five shots to his head. It took a moment of hesitation before I accepted the line-up, but the ‘Soldat-Dog’ seemed like a danger I couldn’t stop with my words. With a wavy heart I triggered the spell.

Time started to flow faster. The gun turned in my magic grip and pointed it’s barrel right onto the jumping dog. The muzzle flash made him open his eyes widely. The first bullet missed, only grazing his hunched back. The second one hit his eye, the third his ear. The fourth one caught his nose. In slow motion I could see the bullet tearing his muzzle and lodging itself between his eyes in a bloody explosion. His eyes popped out of the sockets when his forehead cracked. SATS turned off.

I closed my eyes but the moment I hit the ground a flash of pain flooded my vision with a light as strong as a thousand suns. I bounced off and flew forwards, only stopping on one of the trashed machines that littered Killerdose’s lawn. My back and head hurt; my vision was blurred.

I stood up on my hooves. My EFS signaled that one of my legs was damaged but I didn’t care that much in my daze. This was my undoing. My leg exploded with pain when I put it down and applied some weight I just keeled over with a scream. I heard muffled, watery voices that came from afar but they were almost completely drawn out by the white noise in my ears. Laying on my side and writhing in the pain I saw that the herald and his other enforcer ran towards me. A big gray blob of color laid next to me.

I heard a loud noise. My sight was coming back slowly. The ground before the dogs erupted with small craters of gunfire. I couldn’t move my head but a black and yellow stain entered my vision. The dogs looked surprised and I saw the doctor backing away to his house, in hurry, like he forgot something.

The new stain begun walking towards the dogs and I felt that my consciousness was drowning in the white noise and darkness. Then, the world exploded with colorful motes. The sand beneath me and the mane of the black stain became sickly green. My PipColt started to click like crazy and flashed a warning I couldn’t read in my state. Then, the world became white and I ceased to be.

* * *

The world hurt. Looking at him was also painful. I came to in Whitesabre’s room, which I only recognized by her sitting by the window and looking through it with worry. Besides her there was Black Gallant, leaning back in a chair. A gray cowpony hat with a wide rim covered his eyes and his mouth sported a cigarette holder with a burned out stump of a cig. It was dark behind the window and the room was lit with an oil lamp.

I tried to speak to them but my lips only voiced a raving ‘something’ that sounded like a growl that Gallant would utter. Whitesabre was the first to jump up and come to me. She quickly checked my forehead, probably to decide if I had a fever and then she looked at my PipColt.

Black slowly rose the rim of his hat and looked at me. His irises glowed icy blue in the dark. It was terrifying and beautiful at the same time. And it was topped with a dangerous aura.

Whitesabre hugged me as Gallant lowered his hat again. She looked like she cried a lot not long ago.

“It’s so good you’re awake, Sparkplug!” she cried out.

I hugged her wih my one good, weak front hoof and I patted her back. Something was not right.

“What happened?” I asked in a raspy voice. ”I only remember a bright glow.”

“Gallant came to rescue you as fast as he heard that Ashtray is calling the dogs. Killerdose took you here and gave you first aid. “ she was visibly shaken. “Doc was furious! I thought he will beat Ashtray to death with his bare hooves! You were very lucky… But you can’t stay here any longer.” She flipped her ears down and looked at me sadly. “The dogs will come back when they notice their herald missing, and after what Black has done… It wouldn’t be good to stay here. Everypony is afraid of him.”

The stallion only nodded and hid his muzzle under the hat. He saved me and the ponies feared him for that?

“He’s a good pony… But he is scary. You must leave here, Sparkplug. I’m sorry...”

Her voice hit me as hard as when I had hit the ground before. I tried to get up and even succeeded, but the scarred wounds of the glass shards in my back still hurt.

“Winter is coming, Sparkplug,” he said slowly, not raising his eyes to meet mine. “You need a place to wait it out. I know one safe place where the Tide won’t get you during winter but we need to move out tomorrow morning. You said you want to rescue your coltfriend from the Tide’s paws?”

“Yes…” My voice didn’t seem that convincing to me. “I do.”

The silence fell for a long moment. Whitesabre got up and passed me a glass of Sparkle-Cola to drink, this time a soft drink. The ghoul stallion fished out another cigarette and put it in his holder, lighting it up with a lighter. He let out a puff of smoke and finally stared at me with those glowing eyes of his.

“I’m willing to work for you,” he said finally. “In exchange for a share in food that we find and eventual loot that we find in the ruins or on killed enemies. You are alone and on the run. You are a good pony and need all the help. What’s your answer?”

The question hung in the air like the smoke from his cig. Whitesabre looked at me with a stare that told me that she wanted me to take up on that offer. Black was still drilling me with his eyes. He waited, not even once blinking.

“You’re hired, Black Gallant…” I finally spoke and tried to get up. The bandage on my right leg was red now but I didn’t feel any pain in it anymore. My head got a bit dizzy but I managed to stand tall. I trotted to him and shook his hoof in acceptance. “We leave first thing in the morning.”

Author's Note

Footnote: Next level.

Firearms - 10% skill increase,

Author’s note:

My thanks go to KKat for creating this wonderful piece of fiction and for all her technical support that she has shown to me. Another thanks go to people like FuzzyVeeVee, Mimezinga, No One, Doctor Ham and Somber for their stories which influenced and inspired my own. I also wish to thank my editors and proofreaders and my wonderful translator, Samey90! You guys are the greatest!

As always, the uncut and uncensored version can be found on Google Docs.