CHAPTER 4

“Gladstone”

Where is Uncertainty, I shall bring Enlightenment

Where is Doubt, I shall sow Faith

Where is Disgrace, I shall show Atonement

Where is Rage, I shall point the Target

My Word in spirit shall be like a Sword in a battle

I will not yield!

* * *

The morning didn’t bring anything good. There was no hope. There was just throbbing pain in patched wounds and sobbing. I didn’t even know exactly why I was crying. I just had to get this whole mental bile out of my system. I kept crying and sobbing quietly. Because of longing for Coldbrew, because of another living being I killed, because of pain and the smell of the town.

The sun outside slowly pierced through grey clouds. I heard some ruckus somewhere below, but I subconsciously tuned it out. I heard rumbling in my stomach, my wounds itched and I was dirty. I couldn’t do much about the last one, but one of the pills bought from Killerdose and called De-agonizers wast quite fine for the former. I hoped to do something about the first thing by ordering a breakfast from Whitesabre.

The white unicorn wasn’t in her room; same for my ghoul saviour from yesterday. I was all alone and it was bringing me down unbelievably. I don’t know how I managed to get out of bed, but I somehow forced myself to do that, as well as clean after myself. I checked my luggage with the sorting app and realised that I couldn’t get myself any more ready now. I put on my barding and looked at my reflection in a cracked mirror.

The metal plates were silver in colour, slightly eaten by rust. They seemed sturdy, despite being in worse shape than me. I found a bent plate right below my chest. Must’ve been done by this grey dog when he threw me out of the window…

I swallowed loudly, feeling a bit nauseous. The falling sensation wasn’t pleasant and hitting the ground was even worse. I felt like throwing up just by remembering the dog’s exploding head and his eyes popping out of their sockets. So much blood…

There went the painkillers. I spent the next ten minutes throwing up and crying. When I calmed down, it turned out that there was next to nothing in my stomach and I simply kept spitting bile. The nasty stench of ammonia in my mouth didn’t help. After the nausea faded, I grabbed a mop and washed the floor as well as I could. It still smelled of vomit, though.

Going downstairs was a bad idea. Or at least doing it so late was. I really should’ve gotten up earlier. Whitesabre was arguing with a red pony with white mane who had organised the counterattack yesterday. Behind his back, there was a herd of other ponies of various race, gender, and age. Whitesabre changed diametrally during this argument. Her mane was frazzled, her eyes focused and evil, stomping her hoof angrily. Gallant was there too, sitting by the bar with his face hidden by the brim of his hat, drinking bourbon. Barracuda sat behind the counter, apparently afraid of getting out. Next to her, Killerdose sat, looking a bit dazed, as if he drank well too much yesterday.

“Let’s give her to the Tide, maybe they’ll leave us alone!” There was a hint of desperation in the red stallion’s voice. “Whitesabre! Do you want to doom the whole settlement for one unicorn?”

“She’ll leave in a few hours! When she’s gone, we’ll think of something. None of the dogs survived. We’ll give them the bodies and tell them they were attacked on their way.”

“They won’t believe us! Also, if we turn her in, maybe we’ll get the prize? Think! It’s SO MUCH caps! We’d be able to buy equipment from Hoofington’s Collegiate! Maybe even hire a specialist! We’d have crops! Independence! We could–”

“NO! I won’t agree!” Whitesabre interrupted him. “We won’t sell ponies, Raw Snowball! We’re not slave drivers! If you even try to catch her, I’ll rip your head off and feed it to radscorpions! We won’t, I say it twice, we won’t be getting independence at the cost of somepony’s freedom! No matter the profits!”

The red stallion seemed like he was ready to battle, just like the crowd behind him. The conversation was suddenly cut when everypony saw me.

“It’s her! Seize her!”

I froze, unable to run, scream or do anything. There was no way out anyway. Ponies produced ropes and chains, approaching me, surely to catch me. Then Black stood in their way, raising his hat. Everybody looked at him, their eyes wide, and moved away as if afraid of him.

“Exactly. Now you’ll move away, sit down and order any drink you fancy from beautiful Whitesabre. Sparky and I will now get out in peace and you’ll forget about us.”

The ponies were scared. I didn’t know what Black did, but his stare was keeping them away. Well. He gave me a nickname. I preferred “kiddo”, myself. I walked down the stairs and stood by him.

“Sparkplug, go to the exit, I’ll be right behind you.”

Suddenly, Killerdose looked at us as if he woke up from shock. He stood up, finished his drink and walked to Gallant. Now when I went past the ghoul, I could see the blue light in his eyes, like a heated steel. It was weird, but not scary. Was it what those ponies were afraid of?

The doctor stood next to Black and looked at everyone around. His gaze could kill.

“You are all Schweinehunde! Foul Schweinehunde! Hov could you!? Iz zis vhat I cured you for? Helping wiz your births? You aren’t vorth null! I’m leaving!”

The ponies trembled as the doctor walked towards the entrance. Whitesabre smiled at me and mouthed “good luck” wordlessly. I nodded and walked out with Black.

Nopony stopped us at the gate. I was sad because I didn’t have time to say goodbye to Whitesabre and Barracuda, but there was no choice. When we trotted somewhat away from the town, someone behind us started calling us. I reached for my gun with my magic while Black did something strange. He stood on his hind legs and held his rifle in his hooves in and odd way. My brain couldn’t get how he was doing that? Without the battle saddle?

He didn’t shoot, however, but looked at me with one eye. He still kept aiming at the incoming pony, though.

“It’s doctor Killerdose,” he said without much of na emotion. “He’s running like a fat foal chasing an ice cream cart. Should I shoot him?”

“No! He’s a good pony!” I said, hiding my gun. He put down the rifle too and nodded, landing back on all four.

“What was that? It was… strange.”

“I will tell you one day…”

Then the doctor reached us. He was wearing large saddlebags and pulled a small wagon attached to them, with more luggage. He was panting, barely standing on his hooves.

“Ugh... Ich bin zu alt für diese Scheiße… Göttinnen!”

“Doctor… In pony, please?”

“Huff… It’z a pony language too! Germaneigh! Eh… But zen… Can I go with you? I can’t ztand zat tovn any longer!”

I waited for the doctor to catch his breath. I looked at Black, who only now calmed down a bit. He was looking at the unicorn with a mixture of compassion and condescending.

“How do you think, Black? Is it a good idea?” I asked my first companion.

“It’s your choice, Sparky,” he stated emotionlessly. “We will need more food and water, but he’s still a doctor. It’s better to have someone to patch you up and stitch you back together when someone shoots you.” He turned to Killerdose. “Can you fight, doctor?”

“Of courze! I had to get here from Germaneigh, after all!”

“Any weapons you have?”

“Jawohl! I have ze gun vith four normatives and mein ovn cannon! It doez vonderz!”

I looked at my ghoul companion who nodded. “Welcome to the party, Doctor.”

“I’m glad… Call me Killerdose, pleaze.”

* * *

The first night after leaving Wellsprings was cold. Shortly before the twilight Black and Killerdose showed me how to set up a tent and how to keep ants out. They both had dome-shaped tents—tourist tents as they explained—and sleeping bags. I didn’t have one, but Black let me sleep in his tent and gave me one of his two (!) sleeping bags. So he even bought an additional sleeping bag? When the doctor put together a small pile of firewood from the branches he’d gathered, Black sat next to me, producing a knife. I froze for a moment, but he gave me a reassuring look and pointed at the flat stone in front of him.

“I got to shorten your mane, kiddo,” he said in a professional, if a bit condescending tone. “Sooner or later you’ll have to fight hoof-to-hoof and the last thing you’d want would be someone grabbing your mane and pulling back. You should also consider shortening the tail, but pulling it isn’t as painful.”

I sat in front of him and felt him grabbing my hair with his teeth and pulling them slightly. Then I heard a rustle, a slight yank and ringing of the blade. My head was free while Black spat out the rest of my mane. Then he shortened the sides of my mane, keeping about five centimetres. I felt weird. Ponies were always envious of my mane.

After a while, he gave me a silver-covered bowl and let me look at my reflection. The top of my head still looked like before, but Black cut it at an angle, so it resembled a helmet made of hair. It didn’t look bad, just… very different.

I looked a bit more adult and less like a mare. I also felt strangely light, even though my head hadn’t been much heavier before. A bit as if some of my worries disappeared. Killerdose looked at me and said something in his language with a smile. Black joined him, smiling in his own, creepy way.

When it came to lighting a bonfire, I was given a knife and a flint. Killerdose showed me how to ignite a spark and Black instructed me how to light a fire. I couldn’t do it even after the third time, but when I managed to light the flame I got praised.

“Our Sparky is growing,” Black muttered, apparently content. “And she conquered other sparks! Before we notice, she’s going to rule the whole Wasteland!”

They both laughed and I joined them. Their praises and the opportunity to spend time together made me feel great. Back in the Stable I had a few pals, just like Colbrew, but not as many of them; not even a true bestie. I was considered a bore and the only pony I could call my friend was Coldbrew. Those two… I couldn’t call them friends yet, just someone I knew well, maybe colleagues. But even back then I knew I’d love them both and that they were there for me. The nice, old doctor and slightly rough, but in general a good Ghoul. They were my companions and that was all I cared about at the moment.

The supper was humble. Killerdose said he couldn’t really cook, but it didn’t take much skill to fry a few bits of pork on a stick, add some vegetables and make it taste well. He showed me how to check if the meat was edible and not too old, how to look for herbs and plant or chemicals to fight food poisoning. He was pretty awesome in that. He even carried a thick notebook with sketches of plants and animals living in the Wasteland; he showed them to me, teaching me their names. A real scientist with years of experience in field research. Unlike the scientists back in the Stable.

During the break, while waiting for another batch of shashliks to fry, I checked out the contents of my PipColt. I discovered the “Diary” application where I could take notes. I remembered being told about it back in the Stable, but I never used it there. I preferred to take notes on paper. I looked through the local files and found two of them, called “Memories of an Exile” and “From Whitesabre”.

Without hesitation, missing the first friendly pony in the Wasteland, I opened her file. It wasn’t long, apparently written in a hurry, but I wanted to read it anyway.

Text Message from ‘Whitesabre’
To: ‘Sparkplug’
Date: ‘Error’
Topic: ‘From Whitesabre’

“Hello.
I’m writing that in case I couldn’t tell it to you in the morning. The life in the Wasteland is hard and horrific. Everyone who came out of the Stable learns about it sooner or later. Don’t trust anyone and never believe the strangers completely.
Survival in the Wasteland sometimes means sacrificing someone else. Choose your friends wisely. I think Black is a good pony, but don’t put all your trust in him. What he did in front of Killerdose’s clinic was horrible.
I uploaded a text file to your PipColt. It’s long, almost like a book. It’s the description of life after leaving Stable 69 by the first exile. It helped me how to understand; how not to lose myself. I guess you’ll need it too. It’s given to everyone who leaves the Stable 69, so I couldn’t not give it to you. Do with it what you want.
-Whitesabre”

I felt a strange warmth in my heart. So, someone like me and Whitesabre decided to write something from themselves to make the life of future generations easier? I couldn’t wait to open this file. But before I managed to, Black took a small metal thing from his saddlebags and started to blow into it, pushing it against his muzzle with his hooves.

I didn’t expect a metal box to be a musical instrument able to produce such wondrous sounds an a... melody. Killerdose and I both listened carefully. My heart was racing, but it was nice, as if it wanted to travel with the melody. The doctor was a bit more overwhelmed; he took the shashliks from the fire before they burned and shared them among us, sticking the stick with the ghoul’s portion in the ground in front of him so he could take it after he stopped playing.

When Black finally stopped, the doctor and I started to stomp our hooves against the ground. The ghoul didn’t seem to look for applause, but he smiled in his peculiar way. Did I mention that his smile was creepy?

The sunset came and the clouds above us formed a thin layer of fluff. The night was starless, but the moon’s light pierced through the veil of the night. Killerdose threw some wood into the fire and wrapped himself in a white, furry barding he produced from his cart.

“It’z time to sleep, ve’re setting off early in ze morning. I vill take ze first vatch and vake up Black in drei hourz. You’ll guard last. Ve have to look after ourselves out in ze open.”

I was slowly getting used to the Doctor’s accent. Black went to his tent and I joined him soon. Without a word, the ghoul wrapped himself in his sleeping bag, zipping it up almost to his nose.

“Goodnight,” I whispered to him. He only looked at me with his shiny eyes and nodded, turning back. After a while, I heard his quiet snoring.

I slipped into my sleeping back, thinking that it could’ve smelled better than paint remover, but after a while inside, I felt warm and the smell stopped disturbing me. Killerdose was humming something outside and I tried to sleep.

Unfortunately, Luna didn’t want to visit me quickly that night. Unable to sleep, I raised my forehoof to my face and opened the text file Whitesabre had given me. I saw a well-redacted and adjusted text.

~- - ± ± ± - -~

Welcome. If you read that, you may have met one of my compatriots. I hope it was a nice meeting, although if it wasn’t, I won’t be mad. The Wasteland is not a place to throw tantrums.

My name is Blue Cobble, though I was called different names, including vulgar ones and ones expressing fear or affection. I learned about nearly every aspect of the Wasteland and I hope to share it with you and give you some perspective.

I was born and raised in Stable 69. I apologise for not including its localisation; even though they’d hurt me, I don’t mean to make them live in this nightmare. Life in Stable 69 is a paradise. Ponies do their jobs, take care of the functions of our shelter and worry about only one thing: whether they’re fertile.

Yes. Your whole life depends on whether you can give life to a foal at the first attempt. This is, of course, a lie; I really learned about it many years later.

I think I can start my story by saying that first weeks were an unimaginable nightmare; owning only an old gun and a few bullets I had to quickly learn how to survive in the wild. I was wandering along the Long Seventeen for almost a month before I met another pony and that was the bane of me. The ponies I met happened to be the slave raiders, led by a humongous minotaur. I was too afraid to fight them alone. That was the first lesson the Wasteland gave to me. Fear is a good thing.

The memories of those days blur in my mind. They were full of blood, fear, and pain. The slavers made us do literally everything from drinking urine to murdering each other and worse. It was a miracle I managed to avoid most of those monstrosities. Ironically, in the middle of this Tartarus I med Acute Senses.

Acute Senses was a prisoner functionary. She was keeping an eye on other slaves while being one of them and living in better conditions than us. She always found a way to help us. That was love at a first whip snap. Believe me or not, that’s how it was.

I’ll spare you further memories in order not to offend Acute Senses’ memory. My love and I organised the slave rebellion. We managed to get some arms and prepare to escape when we were driven to our winter camp. For the first time I killed a pony. It was such a big shock for me that I almost forgot to run away. Unfortunately, Slavers had a plan in case of such an event...

~- - ± ± ± - -~

I didn’t even know when I fell asleep. Black woke me up patting me gently with his hooves. I opened my crusty eyes and unglued my drooled muzzle from the screen of my PipColt. Just great, I also drooled like a foal. I wiped my eyes and muzzle, cleaned the screen from my saliva, and got up, yawning. With sadness, I realised that I was looking for Coldbrew. I didn’t find him, which finally woke me up, sniffing as I remembered what happened. I managed not to cry, though.

Gallant pointed at the fireplace and went to sleep. When I was alone, I could let my emotions go and quietly cry. I missed him so much. Gallant and Killerdose were good companions and I appreciated them, but they weren’t Cold. They weren’t able to replace him.

When my sadness was gone, I saw the slowly rising sun. On the border of our camp, near Killerdose’s cart, I noticed something. “Something” was a quick-moving hairy creature with red eyes, the size of a dog. A normal, domesticated dog, that is. I stood in attention, scared but determined not to wake up my companions too early, and took out my gun. When I aimed at the thing, it looked into my eyes, scared, and ran away dragging a long, bald tail behind it. So that was a rat? It was probably looking for our supplies! I managed to fight my urge to follow and hunt it. Besides, I was too afraid to get too far from the camp. What a nice start of the day.

* * *

Struggling to concentrate, I managed to prepare a simple breakfast for us all. Apparently hooves of pegasi and unicorns tremble when they’re nervous and so does telekinesis… I learned about how true it was.

It turned out that Gallant and Killerdose brought some of their supplies, adding to our stocks in both number and variability. I prepared sandwiches with pea and corn as well as thin slices of cheese. The cheese itself was awesome. I didn’t know where it was from, but if it was made the same way as the pre-war cheese, it must’ve been made from Brahmin milk. It was incredibly hard, spicy and aromatic, completely unlike dull synthetic cheese we had back in the Stable. I cut off a piece to taste it and enjoy its wondrous, unique taste.

My companions woke up soon after. Killerdose was saying something in his language, which sounded like a typical morning argument with oneself. Gallant walked out of his tent and started a horrible process of cracking almost every single joint of his body, causing his limbs, head, jaw, and even tail to contort at unnatural angles. The sound caused me and Killerdose to shiver.

While eating breakfast, I told them about the creature I had seen. They both looked at each other, surprised before turning to me.

“Zat vas a rat pig! If it vas really here, you vere incredibly lucky! Zey are aghressive and zey bite like Schweinehunde!”

Great! What could be better than learning that you’d brushed with death! We finished our breakfast in silence, but both stallions were in good moods. Gallant finished first, as if he didn’t want to waste time dining any longer. Full of energy, he went to the tents to clean and dismantle them, while Killerdose and I watched the sun, slowly hiding behind the clouds above the horizon. I still couldn’t get it.

“Doctor?” I still couldn’t refer to him by his name; there was just that aura of authority around him. “How it goes in general? Since… I left the Stable, there are always clouds there, above the horizon and the sky never clears, unlike here. Do you know why, doctor?”

He winced a bit when I called him a doctor, but he put down his sandwich for a moment and smiled. “In ze Germaneigh Commonwealth, ve call it Equestria’s Shroud,” he said calmly and wiped his glasses.

“A shroud? What is it?”

“Ah! Entschuldigung!” he apologised. “A shroud iz a kind of veil. A piece of cloth a pony’s body vas vrapped in before putting in in ze grave or a coffin at ze cemetery. Zese cloudz are called Equestria’s Shroud becauze zey covered it vhen it died.”

Death of Equestria… So that’s how they call it? In Stable 69, we called it The Last Day. But Killerdose told me what each of our Overstallions and Overmares denied: Equestria ceased to exist. It died together with the old world. And me, Killerdose, and Gallant, even Coldbrew, were treading on its grave. So that’s what was the place where we’d found Officer Pain? I felt my heart quiver. So his family reunion took place where ponies embarked on their last journey? That must have been a really unlucky police pony.

“Vhen ze fihrst Balefire Megaspell struck,” the doctor continued, “it viped ze pegasus capital, Cloudsdale, out of ze sky. In response, to save Equestria, ze pegasi took ze sky avay from ponies. But for some reason, zey couldn’t do it here…”

So pegasi really lived there, at this large cloud… The shroud… That sounded more sublime than it really was. Soon, we finished breakfast and after gathering our equipment, we took off, led by Black.

* * *

We managed to find the ruins of some little town my PipColt identified as Gladstone. The town wasn’t big; it consisted of the main street with small houses scattered around it, that used to be pretty nice. It was locate near a forest on the other side of the road, slowly taking the town over. From afar, I could see the signboard of a grocery store and a pharmacy on the other side of the street. The street pronged at some point, getting Y-shaped. In the middle, there was a church with a belfry and a square with a fountain.

For the first time in my life I saw the church of the Goddesses; two stone monuments depicting the princesses standing on both sides of the entrance were a dead giveaway. Dead, twisted trees didn’t make it any less noble; neither did a second, collapsed tower, most likely another belfry. Mr. Rightdate and Chaplain Heartstring said that all the churches, except those few ones devoted to only one Goddess had two belfries, symbolising the divine sisters. Each of the bells rang twice a day. Celestia’s bell called for the morning and evening services, while Luna’s bell, respectively quieter, rang before midnight and early morning.

The town was desolated, but Gallant told us to walk carefully anyway, avoiding the middle of the street and constantly watch for threats. We did as he told, heading to the grocery store and the pharmacy.

“Doc, watch out for Sparky and don’t split. I’ll do some deeper scouting.”

Oh, it seems Doc and Sparky became our permanent nicknames. Well, I preferred that over “Kiddo” and Killerdose didn’t seem to care about this either.

“Jawohl!” he confirmed. How weird this language was. Why weren’t we taught other languages back in the Stable? Did they think that when it opens, ponies would still speak in the same dialect or even language?

Gallant walked somewhere between the buildings, but before he disappeared, I managed to see him checking if his rifle was still in his saddlebags. I checked my gun just in case and levitated it out of the holster.

The doctor only pulled his cart, not reaching for his weapons. Only now I realised it was almost as big as the unicorn himself and seemed heavy. It was an old, revamped two-wheeler with four smaller wheels attached to the front and the back to help crossing the rough terrain and add stability during stops. It was made of metal, well-preserved, without any dents or rust, covered with yellowish-grey tarpaulin.

“What do you have there, Doctor?”

“Das is meine Kannon. And medical suppliez.”

“What kind of cannon it is?”

“Machine cannon, Spahrplug.” He smiled warmly. “Maschine.”

“I understand. Would you like to see the pharmacy or the shop first?”

“Let’s see ze shop.”

“Fine.” Well, conversations with him were rather to the point. “Let’s go.”

We crossed the street, trotting quickly and ducking as low as we could. Luckily, no one shot at us. At the edge of my vision I saw Gallant’s black, balding ass disappearing in the gate leading to the church’s square. He could sneak and hide well; I only caught a glimpse and I wouldn’t recognise him if it wasn’t for his distinctive tail.

I opened the door of the store and swept the interior with my gaze and the barrel of the gun. A lot of dust, though still less than back in that… Cedar Knoll. Yes. That was where I first saw any real store, other than those few stalls we had in the 69. And that was where I saw a Dog for the first time.

I shook off the urge to cry because of Coldbrew. There was no time for that now. Now there was a time to watch out.

“Clear.” I walked inside with my gun up and looked around, this time to search through what was in the room.

Perhaps a lot of ponies had visited this store in the past, even after the bombs fell. Rubbish was scattered everywhere; at least once someone had made it their lair. Empty cans, cigarette boxes, remains of clothes; that was all that the postapocalyptic design of this interior consisted of. At the opposite wall there stood the counter with a terminal connected to the cash register with a thick wire. Behind it, there was a door, leading to some backroom or social room.

Killerdose found another door and opened it unceremoniously, which scared me a bit. Several brooms fell out; due to the cart he didn’t want to leave anywhere, he was unable to run. Muffled banging against his head and his dignified reaction, consisting only of silent “ow” when he got hit caused me to feel rising energy in my chest. He looked at me, surprised his glasses askew, and I nearly started to choke. Finally, I couldn’t hold it and I exploded with laughter.

“I’m sorry… But…” I said between the fits of laughter muffled with my hoof. “But your expression, doctor… Priceless.”

He smiled and started to laugh too; maybe not as vigorously as I did, but still gracefully. Apparently he didn’t take himself as seriously as I though. Lucky me – I didn’t want to offend him.

“Spahrplug,” he said when we calmed down. “Maybe you vill call me ‘Killerdose’, after all?”

“Okay… Sorry if I sometimes forget. It’s out of respect,” I replied, wiping the tears of laughter. He only smiled and went back to searching the store.

After a few whiles, we found a lot of cleaning supplies no one had wanted to take from here for some reason; Killerdose immediately put them in his cart. Luckily, after the brooms incident he unhooked himself from the cart, but still kept relatively close to it. Meanwhile, I found a bag of salty potato chips. We sat on the counter. I put my gun in its holster and the doctor opened the bag with a scalpel he produced from his pocket. The wonderful smell of potatoes mixed with salt filled the air, removing the smell of dust and rot. We took one crisp at a time, savouring every bite.

“To think zat zere vere times vhen everysing was a plenty and ponies didn’t have to look for it in the ruins.” He sighed with a bit of nostalgia.

“Those must’ve been beautiful times. We were told during history lessons that it was the Golden Age of Equestria, but zebras destroyed everything.”

“Phew! Spahrplug, please…” He looked like someone who heard something dumb while knowing the matter better. “Zey keep teaching propaganda in ze Stables? It vasn’t zebras vho destroyed ze vorld. Zey just helped. “Ponies, zebras, volves vith zeir Hunds, dragons… Horses from Saddle Arabia and eldeers from Cervidas too. Ze vhole vorld is guilty of zis.”

“How do you know that, doc–” I paused, remembering that he wanted to call him by his name. “How do you know?”

What he said was interesting. He told me that he came from Germaneigh where he lived in a society thriving in government shelters, different from Stable-Tech. Germaneigh was always a part of Equestria, but long before the Great War, it tried to keep its autonomy, with their own treasury and trade. Their independence and strong economy often rivaled the rest of Equestria. There was also a strange competition between their main industrial complex in the town of Bearlin and Hoofington and Stalliongrad.

The society where Killerdose grew in was one of the first three that were established in Germaneigh after the Last Day. It was called “The University”, the codename given to it by the government, as well as its location, that is Rainland University of Technology.

I kept listening, fascinated by his story while we munched on chips. It turned out the University as such wasn’t hit by any bomb and only suffered the side effects of bombing the country as a whole. Due to that, the initial fallout destroyed anything that could corrupt the things like paper or tapes and when the radiation level dropped enough for the citizens of the Bunker to get rid of it, they retrieved a lot of scientific sources, plans, and prototypes. The University became the technological centre of Germaneigh.

I folded the bag of chips, leaving about a third of them inside. I explained to the good doctor that it was for Black, to which he smiled warmly.

“Never change, Spahrplug.”

He couldn’t continue his story for one more reason. We heard some rustling upstairs and we both looked at the ceiling. My EFS displayed a red line.

“There’s someone upstairs,” I said quietly.

“Let’z see…” he decided. I preferred to run, myself, but a part of me trusted the stallion’s reason.

We approached the door behind the counter and he opened it quietly. It wasn’t locked, which I thought was a bad sign. Killerdose produced a gun from under his lab coat and embraced it with his magic. I don’t know why, but it was nice to see this red glow again.

As we sneaked up the stairs, I had an occasion to take a closer look at my companion. He wasn’t a very old stallion, but it could be seen that he’d be past his prime soon. He still walked straight and proud, but in a calm rather than cocky way. I was ashamed to admit that, but he had both that fatherly aura and the charm of a handsome old stallion; I even thought that if I hadn’t met Coldbrew, I’d be much more intimidated by him.

His grey coat contrasted with darker mane and tail interwoven with blood-red stripes. I was wondering whether his name was a pseudonym or did his parents actually name him that. It clashed in my mind with his impression of a good doctor trying to help as much as he could in the Wasteland.

We approached another door at the top of the stairs. The red line was running around the room on the other side. We undid the safety on our weapons and his focused magin turned the knob and pushed the door.

In the middle of a ruined living room, next to an upturned couch, an enormous rat was sniffing the air. The door didn’t even creak, so it didn’t notice us at first. Killerdose gestured to me to lower my gun and sneaked to the creature. I didn’t know what he was trying to achieve, but I listened to him, keeping the weapon at ready.

Unfortunately, he stepped on an old lighter that gave out a hellish crunch, alarming the rat of our presence. It immediately turned its head and with a terrifying squeak it charged at the doctor. I was about to scream, when Killerdose raised his hoof at an incredible speed. Like in slow-motion I saw the rat being impaled on a knife resting against the stallion’s limb.

The rat didn’t even fall to the ground when Killerdose grabbed its tail with his magic and took the knife out of its blood-stained head.

“Spahrplug, can you lend me your PipBuck?” he asked, watching the dripping blood with fascination. A bit nauseated by this sight, I walked to him, extending my left hoof.

Killerdose turned something on my PipColt and looked at his trophy with a smile.

“Barely rhadiated. Nothing zat vould harm us too much. I’ll add a kleine bit of Rad-Away and it vill be gut,” he stated with a professional expression.

“B– But… doc– you want to eat that?” My surprise was as big as my dizziness. “It’s a rat!”

“A healthy rat. Hardly irrhadiated. An exzellent source of proteins and fats. Ve can make black pudding out of ze blood.”

I felt the chips coming back to me. I covered my mouth with my hoof and inhaled the air. After a while, I managed to stop the gag reflex.

“Killerdose, please! I just ate.”

“Vhatever you vant. A good rat ain’t bad.”

After a while, we were done searching through the floor. It was a small flat with two rooms. The living room filled all the roles except of the bathroom – which was the other room. We managed to find the first-aid kit no one had raided before and got medicines such as De-Agonisers, Mintals, and a lot of gauze, bandages, and bandaids. We also found hydrogen peroxide and two healing potions. Unfortunately, aside from that (and we wondered why just that), the whole flat was ravaged.

Soon, we gathered what we could and walked outside. In horror, I watched Killerdose beheading the rat with a knife and throwing it into a metal bucket. Luckily, I managed not to throw up like a cat, even though I felt weak seeing that.

When we got out, a strong light hit our eyes, as if someone aimed the sun at us. We looked around and saw that it was someone from the tower. Just to be sure, I turned on SATS for a while to confirm the “someone”’s identity.

It was, of course, Black, flashing the mirror he’d found somewhere at us. He had a worried expression waving at us with his hoof, prompting us to hurry.

“Killerdose, it’s Black,” I said after turning off SATS. “I think something’s wrong. We’d better go there.”

The church was a big building with a very tall ceiling. When we trotted to the entrance, Black was already awaiting us downstairs, closing the ornamented metal door with smashed windows behind us. I didn’t have time to watch the interior, though.

“What’s going on?” the doctor asked.

“We’re in trouble,” the Ghoul replied. “I’ve seen the Tide’s scouts. Let’s go.”

He lead us up the stairs, to the top of the uncollapsed tower. The bell had fallen down anyway, damaging a lot of stories and flights of stairs, to eventually get buried halfway in the floor on the ground floor. Nevertheless, with some caution, one could still reach the top. We walked past inscriptions on the walls, where curses and swears intertwined with pleas to Goddesses.

When we finally reached the top, I noticed that our Ghoul had managed to make himself comfortable with his rifle. The scope was covered with a piece of cloth and the rifle was propped on a tripod and an ammo case. I didn’t remember him having it, so probably someone else had put it here.

Gallant lay down by the rifle and started to scan the area with it. Finally, he fixed the sights on some point, moved aside and gestured me to look there myself.

“There, near the bus stop, remember? We went by,” he said when I lay behind the weapon to look.

Indeed, they were there by the bus stop, as Gallant said. A large, yellow dog with a red collar and a full plate armour sat on the bench, cleaning his weapon while three smaller dogs – one of them was brown, wearing a jacket, the other, white, had a bandana on his head while the third, black, wore a baseball cap. They were, of course, dressed in red bardings similar to mine. All of them had long rifles on their backs, but none of them were sniper rifles like Black’s.

“They have a fourth scout,” the Ghoul explained patiently. “When you were in the store, he reached the town. He didn’t go too deep, but he sniffed for quite a while and went back. Soon he’ll get to them. I’d shoot him, but I couldn’t muffle the shot and if they heard me, that’d be the end of playtime.”

I kept watching. The fourth scout came back, which I announced quietly, as if I was afraid the dogs would hear me through the scope.

“What now?” I asked.

“We have an advantage here. We’re hidden and have a good position to shoot. Also, they come from the same place as we did, so we know the area.”

“Ve can make an ambush,” Killerdose stated, surprising me and Black. While I’d seen what he was able to do, I didn’t expect him to be so into fighting.

“I’m listening. What do you mean, doc?”

I really didn’t like the smile that appeared on Killerdose’s face… Neither the fact that soon, Black’s smile joined it.

* * *

I sat hidden under the cover of old bushes and leaves, just behind the wall next to the gate leading to the church’s square. Killerdose was sitting on the porch, slowly and systematically skinning the rat he’d caught. His cart stood next to him, covered with a tarpaulin. I kept looking up at the belfry where our Guardian Ghoul awaited.

It was a long wait and I nearly drowned in warmth of the sunbeams. And according to Black, winter was coming and it was cold. Apparently I didn’t get used to the sun and I felt the temperature more, even under the thick layer of the bushes.

Finally, it happened. I heard calm steps and growled words in a foreign language. After a while, the large dog came into my vision field, along with the four scouts. They held their weapons ready, but they didn’t aim it at the doctor. The scouts started to sniff the air, but they kept turning their noses on the skinned rat. Black was right: they have a good olfaction, but the smell of blood distracts them. That’s how they didn’t find my hideout.

“Hey, pony!” The large dog’s voice was frighteningly low.

“Yes?”

“Have you seen a Ghoul and an orange filly with a purple mane walking here? She had a computer on her left forearm.”

So, they didn’t even know how my equipment was called? And what exactly is a “forearm”?

“I’m just a travelling doctor and I’m preparing some food,” the stallion said calmly and stood up, throwing the rat’s carcass to the bucket. “I haven’t seen zem. But maybe I can help you? Are you vounded or sick?”

The leader of the gang scratched his huge, flat head. He didn’t look very intelligent; more like that grey dog that had thrown me out of the doctor’ window. Meanwhile, Killerdose put his snout under the tarpaulin, looking for something. His nonchalant willingness to help confused the dog leader even more.

“Umm... “ he eventually muttered. “No… Well, Rexy has, like, sciatica…” He pointed at the white dog. It turned out he also had a spot on his left eye, giving the impression of it being permanently black.

“Ah! Sehr Gut! I have ze Medizine for him!” The unicorn smiled. “For free, even!”

I clenched my magic on the gun and focused, ready to slip into SATS at any moment. The dogs were visibly excited about getting something for free, although their leader seemed more lost than happy.

Killerdose yanked a flat pole out of his cart. It rung on the ground while his “Kannon” slid out of the cart. A huge, blued block of metal shone in the sun, unraveling itself with a rattle. The cylindrical set of revolving barrels pointed at the dogs almost accusingly. I’ve never seen such a large weapon in my life. As soon as they appeared, the barrels started to spin with a terrifying wail. A shot was fired. One shot.

Rexy’s head exploded into a bloody geyser in place of his left eye. Gallant fired a shot from the watchtower, getting rid of one of the dogs. That caused me to shake off the stupor and turn on SATS.

The time slowed down and I had an occasion to look around the battlefield. My EFS marked the enemies. I aimed at the leader of the whole bunch; according to the program, it was easier to hit his torso rather than head, so naturally I queued five shots straight in his chest...

Was it right? If only I confirmed the command, the gun would shoot without any effort from me. I looked into the scared eyes of the pack’s leader. Did he want to hurt me or only did what he was told to? Killerdose and Black said that if the dogs caught me, I’d dream about death.

With my heart torn, I confirmed the attack. Time sped up. The first bullet missed, but the next went into the dog’s chest. I saw his eyes widening in pain. Then I saw the alien glow from the side. Killerdose’s cannon wound up, spewing large amounts of lead. It ran across the dogs like a fan and mowed down the scouts trying to jump away. I saw the rain of bullets cutting the wall and the brown dog trying to take cover behind it. The eruption of blood from the victims of the rotary cannon made my head spin.

SATS switched off, running out targets. Killerdose mowed down everyone. The air smelled of gunpowder and the floor was covered in spent cases.

“Everyone! I’m going down!” the Ghoul informed from the upstairs.

I stood dazzled; I couldn’t stop staring at the Rexy’s massacred body. He was the only one to avoid being mowed down, though it didn’t help him much. His only eye was closed while the other one became a bloody hole. I wanted to run, to turn back, but I still looked at him like I was hypnotised. Only when Killerdose poked him to see if he was alive, I turned away and threw up everything that was in my stomach.

Tears flown from my eyes like crazy as I sat in the middle of the churchyard, raising my head to the sky. Only after a while I felt someone hugging me.

“There, there, Sparkplug.” It was Black’s voice. He sat next to me and hugged me tightly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not! Why this slaughter?!” I tried to push him away, but he held me tightly. “Why did they have to die?!”

“Because they wanted to hurt you,” he explained calmly. I felt him pressing my head against his chest. I returned the hug. It was very warm, making me feel safer. “They wanted to kill you. You or them. It’s the law of the Wasteland.”

“It’s a bad law! Unfair! Who am I to kill others?”

“You’re yourself. No one will justify it but you.” He patted me and I felt I was gonna stain his coat with my tears. “You have to learn to live with that or it’ll swallow you.”

“I don’t want to live like that.” I was totally resigned.

“You want to live. That’s why you’re here.” He lifted my snout and wiped my tears with his hooves. “Come with me. I have to show you something. Doctor, if you’d be so nice and take care of that somehow…” The last words were directed at Killerdose, who was wandering somewhere where I couldn’t see him.

He led me inside, to the church. We walked along the rows of destroyed wooden benches, passing by the columns with peeled-off facade. The temple was ruined, but some of the stained glass was still in a good shape. The light passing through colourful windows made sophisticated patterns on our way. Despite my sadness, I couldn’t miss such a beauty.

We reached the altar, ruined by time and vandals. We stood in front of it; him, steady and strong, and me, broken and upset. He reached for my chin with his hoof and looked into my eyes.

“Do you believe?”

“No. Not in their divinity. Why–” He interrupted me by placing his hoof on my mouth.

“I don’t. I consider this cult an offence for the Princesses,” he said grumpily, making me feel awkward. “But I remember all of them and I had an honour to meet each of them. Majestic Celestia, Warrior Luna, and Loving Cadance. Each of them loved all the Little Ponies and wanted their good.”

He lifted my muzzle even higher and backed off, letting me look at the large stained glass window towering over the altar. More than a half of it was broken, making Luna headless, but half of Celestia’s face was still intact. Her gaze pierced me as if the dead goddess Coldbrew followed wanted to look into my soul. I felt she could manage that.

“Look at her. Celestia loved all of her subjects. She wasn’t afraid to defend them or even start a war with Zebras when she believed it was necessary to save us. Do you think she’d want you to die because you don’t want to hurt anyone while defending yourself, Her Little Pony, from evil of what this country became?”

He spoke calmly and rationally, but I still couldn’t come to terms with the slaughter outside. He walked to the stone altar and sat on it. Then he took a cigarette case from under his coat, put a cigarette in his mouth, and inhaled the smoke.

“You’re very similar to her, Sparkplug,” he said mysteriously.

“Who? Not the Princess, I guess…”

“Precisely her. You resemble Celestia to me.” He smiled, blowing the smoke out of his nose. The air was filled with a slightly jarring but pleasant smell of tobacco.

“How? I’m no one exceptional, unlike her.”

“You resemble her more than you can imagine.” He made another pause. “What do you know about history? Have you heard of Massacre of Littlehorn?”

Surprised by this history question, I started to think. The name of the event sounded very serious, but it escaped me whether Mr. Rightdate ever told us about it.

“I don’t remember being taught about it,” I replied honestly. He only exhaled the smoke slowly.

“In Littlehorn there was Princess Luna’s School for Gifted Unicorns, the sister school of the one ran by Celestia,” he explained, seemingly weighing every word. “The school was a gift from the older sister to the younger. A few years after the start of the war, a disaster took place.”

I swallowed loudly. The words “school” and “massacre” gave me an idea of what could’ve happened.

“No one exactly know what happened; what caused such a tragedy. A convoy of zebra refugees asked the school for an asylum during Princess Luna’s absence. But when they got inside, something went wrong. Someone fired at the convoy and zebras’ defender detonated a Pink Cloud bomb. Only one teacher survived. No one else but him. All the children, ponies, and zebras, gone.

Silence came. He seemed restless. For a moment he turned his gaze away from me and looked at one of the undamaged stained glass windows, depicting the triumph of the Heroes over the evil Discord. We had photos of a similar window back in the Stable, in the book with the sermons and prayers of our Chaplains; only because of that I knew what was going on. I slowly realised what had to be the Littlehorn Massacre for both Princesses.

“Celestia was heartbroken,” my ghoul companion eventually continued. “Feeling she was no longer able to rule the country and protect her citizens enough, she abdicated in favour of her younger sister.” He inhaled the smoke and shook the ash off on the altar. “She was never passive, though, and when she shook off shock and mourning, she started to work towards ending the war quicker. She was still politically active, although she never went openly against her sister’s willingness to fight.”

I lowered my head. An urge to leave fought in me with willingness to listen to him. He spoke about the princess with such a dedication and pathos. I could see the corners of his lips going up anytime he said her name.

“Celestia started to call for peace. She wanted the war she’d started herself to end as quick and bloodless as possible. She had enough of killing and decided to put her own life at the stake.” He turned his gaze at me, as if he wanted to tell that he was referring to me. “Zebras proposed a diplomatic meeting. Everyone knew it was a ruse, but Celestia wasn’t convinced. A misfortune happened.” He paused to finish the cigarette and throw the but into the corner. “Shots were fired. An assassin tried to kill Celestia, but the war hero, Big Macintosh, stood in the way of the bullet that was supposed to kill her. He was a veteran and one of the greatest soldiers born in Equestria.”

“Black… But what do I have to do with that?”

“Can’t you see? You want the killing to end so no one would have to suffer anymore. You even consider—I can see what trail your thoughts wander on—if it wouldn’t be better to sacrifice, to give yourself to the Tide, so they wouldn’t have to die, even though they’re your enemies. Right?”

I nodded. He was right, reading me like an open book.

“But just like Celestia eventually understood that, you also have to understand: your surrender won’t stop them.” He jumped off the altar and walked to me, looking into my eyes. There was warmth and understanding in his look.

He put his hoof on my shoulder and raised my snout, bringing my attention to the stained glass window. The artist had achieved an incredible effect that wasn’t tarnished even despite the destruction of the picture. Celestia’s likeness had a soft and sensitive showing care, but also joy, as if she enjoyed the fact that one were here, looking at her. Was I really similar to her? Not in appearance, surely.

Black, meanwhile, continued. “Your enemies came from the distant lands and they have their agenda and you’re but a grain of sand in the desert full of death. Your death will not stop the killing, but your life can fight against it. I know that taking life from the others isn’t easy or pleasant, but maybe one day you’ll find the way to oppose killing. And if you don’t, maybe you’ll manage to at least lighten up this dark place?” He smiled warmly and poked my shoulder with his nose.

Now I understood what he had in mind. I couldn’t get myself killed. Death wouldn’t change anything. Life could change everything.

“We’ll wait for you outside. Come to us when you’re ready,” he said in his raspy voice and walked towards the exit. I then knew he was my friend.

When I lowered my gaze, I saw a marble lying in front of me. It was black like night, interwoven with some yellow lines. Did he put it in front of me? What was it? Questions. I reached it with my magic and my senses ran away somewhere.

<-=======ooOOOoo=======->

What?! How?! Why?! What’s going on?! Questions! Questions no one wanted to answer.

The feeling of suspension and darkness soon passed and I felt that I was standing on all four. Except the legs didn’t want to listen to me! I tried to move, see whether no one was going on with them, but it didn’t work. Only after a while I realised I didn’t have control over my body… And that it was different. It was well-built, subtly muscular, wearing a perfectly-made tailcoat and a top hat. I didn’t know how I knew my clothes, but this weird body seemed to “remember it” and passed this feeling to me. The biggest shock was, however, that I not only was lacking a horn, but also… I was a stallion! And an earth pony!

“Truly, you are a real fountain of wit today,” said some jovial, vanilla unicorn mare holding a martini glass in her magic grasp. Two of her friends, another unicorn mare and a stallion laughed. They were both blue, wearing sophisticated clothes.

“If you think that helping those who want to run away from war and are looking for an asylum here is funny, you have to think about yourself, Brass Bosom,” my lips said angrily.

Now I knew I was looking at the world with someone else’s eyes and I was only a kind of a viewer. I had a weird impression that it was a movie. The colours were slightly blurred and even though I could focus my gaze on different details than my “host”, I couldn’t do the same with my hearing. The background voices were exactly that: background.

“Oh, really, why do you even care so much about those dirty zebras?! They’re just uncultured filth.”

“The only uncultured filth in this world are souls of you lot.” My host seemed annoyed. He put down the unfinished drink he was balancing on his hoof and turned away from the mare with a snort.

I could still hear angry voices and quiet swears, including a “Zebra lover” uttered as if it was the worst curse.

My host galloped to the middle of the ballroom where many ponies were still dancing to the classical music. I couldn’t help but marvel at his grace when he went between the dancing ponies. His gaze rested on the white unicorn with a navy blue mane and his pale pink partner whose body was so perfectly sculpted that she could be mistaken for a princess. When the stallion made her spin in a pirouette, the pony I “rode” grabbed her at the waist, taking her in a smooth, charming style.

“You don’t have anything against me cutting in, Fancy Pants, right?” He laughed cheerfully.

“Touche, my friend, perfect takeover,” replied the smiling unicorn. I didn’t know whether it was to cover his annoyance or he really didn’t mind. “Just give her back in the same state, Gallant!”

Gallant? I’m in Black? It was just too much for my head. Was it some hallucination? A dream? How in the world I could see and feel the same things as him?

“Oh, that only depends on beautiful Fleur!” Gallant smiled at the mare impishly and she responded with a giggle. It didn’t leave a good impression on me.

She seemed to be a dumb bimbo whose only purpose was to look good next to a handsome stallion. To my horror, I felt that Black was pretty excited. I wanted to shrink into myself from shame. That was a really weird feeling. How do stallions deal with it? Mares are less noticeable when they “enjoy themselves” and nothing rubs against their bellies!

Fleur seemed to be happy with the attention he was giving her. Just when I thought I was gonna get offended by such a behaviour, the two started to whisper into each other’s ears during the close and tactful dance. After a while, they made me feel ignored, even if I had to do that with them, in some way. They started to talk in a different language. It sounded familiar; smooth and melodic, not like hard and rhythmic bark of the tide. It also seemed to consist solely of funny-sounding words.

“Fleur, si vous étiez en mesure d'accomplir quelque chose de cette aide pour les réfugiés?” Black asked in an unusually serious but begging tone. I could understand that he didn’t ask her for any favours. The words were similar… réfugiés… Refugees?

“Pas encore,” she refused, albeit not sharply. I wondered how much I’d get from this conversation, not knowing the language at all. “Je comprends combien cela signifie pour vous, mais Fancy Pants est très têtu.”

Oh, she said the name of her companion! He surely didn’t want to agree for something.

“Eh bien, j'aurais pu faire plus pour convaincre quelqu'un.” The ghoul’s voice, sounding incredibly different when it wasn’t raspy, seemed a bit resigned. His voice is totally… I realised what I was thinking and I yelled at myself mentally. “Il est dommage que la noblesse est si petits poneys comme lui.”

“Ou essayez avec toute cette Goldenblood?” she said a bit more amused, as if she’d gotten a good idea on how to cheer him up. I was ashamed now because now, even though I didn’t understand her, she didn’t make such an impression as before. Quite the opposite; she seemed to know well how she was seen, but hid that knowledge from the others. That name she mentioned; Goldenblood… Was it someone important who could help Black in what he wanted from her? “Beaucoup de temps a été passé avec les zèbres.” Moment… Zebras? I want to know more! “Pratiquement grandi avec elles, il peut en quelque sorte d'aide?”

“Je vais devoir essayer…” Gallant’s voice seemed tired but still thankful for the conversation. “Bien sûr, si cette bite, son père n'a pas lancé de nouveau et commence à le frapper. En effet, le pauvre garçon.”

The music soon stopped and Gallant brought the blushing Fleur back to her companion. She sticked to him again and started to babble, pretending to be an idiot. Meanwhile, she winked at my ghoul friend.

I really wanted to know what they talked about. The first shock caused by entering Black’s body passed a long time ago, replaced by an unbridled curiosity. I wondered if he’d tell me what was that conversation about if I asked him.

His body didn’t seem wrinkled and his hooves weren’t cracked. I wondered how he looked like, but to my frustration, he just didn’t want to fulfill my request to look in the mirror.

My host soon walked towards the table and grabbed some fish skewers. So Whitesabre was right and ponies ate meat even before the war. I couldn’t feel the taste of the dish, though. Apparently sensory feedback was limited during that show.

“Could you come with me, sir?” I heard someone talking behind him. “Someone wants to talk to you in private…”

When Black turned towards the pony, I saw a white pegasus in a gilded armour with a blue panache on his helmet. Gallant seemed surprised at first, but then he nodded and followed the guard.

Walking past two other guards watching the stairs, we were led across a corridor to the guest chambers. The guard left us by a door flanked with two more guards, this time brown unicorns, who let Gallant it.

“Please, behave properly, don’t raise your voice, and follow the etiquette,” he warned him while searching him with a familiar spell before guiding him inside. I didn’t know a searching spell used by Stable 69’s security forces had its beginnings in the magic of unicorn Royal Guards.

The chamber was well-lit, drowning in ornaments. The pictures of unfamiliar ponies hanged from the walls and the candelabras were burning a yellow fire. My attention, however, focused on two mares standing in the room. Despite her otherworldly beauty, one of them looked pale and uninteresting when compared to the other.

Princess Celestia looked unearthly. Her multi-coloured mane and tail seemed to wave on their own, as if they were alive. I felt Black’s legs became wobbly, but after a while he got himself together, stepped into the middle of the chamber and bowed before the Princess.

“Your Highness…”

Then I heard the most beautiful voice I have ever heard in my life. It didn’t carry any melody or sexuality in it, but it was bringing attention and was unable to ignore while making all the worries go away. Did she always have such an influence of ponies if even just a memory of her works that way?

“Get up, please, sir. In this position, it’d be hard for you to talk with us on the topic we would like to cover with you.”

Black stood on all four and the princess pointed at the seat in front of her.

“My companion recommended you as someone who will take the matter seriously and will be trustworthy enough for this task.”

Black shifted his attention to the other mare. The white unicorn with a violet mane and tail (styled and curled in a sophisticated way) looked at him with her incisive, cornflower eyes.

“Do you remember me by any chance, Gallant?” Her voice wasn’t as sophisticated as the princess’, but I couldn’t tell anything wrong about the charm of fancy accent and correct, well-learned elocution.

“How could I forget?” He smiled. “Madame Rarity, the rising star on the sky of fashion. I’d like to note that it’s brighter than mine. Your beauty flourished even more since we last saw each other during the Fashion Fair in Detrot.”

Rarity?! This Rarity? The Minister of Image Rarity? It couldn’t wrap it around my head (currently shared with Black). Did Gallant really know so many important ponies before the Last Day?

“You’re flattering, but Her Highness called you for another reason,” Rarity replied with a hint of flirt. This mare could modulate her voice. I was surprised to hear someone speaking so smoothly. “Although I’m ashamed to admit that you’re here because of my failure.”

“How so?”

“Her Highness wanted to do me a favour and asked me to design the uniforms for the Army that is currently mobilised and trained. Unfortunately, no matter what I do, the soldiers consider my ideas… ‘impractical’.” Rarity seemed upset, as if she couldn’t get what’s wrong about her designs. And of course she let it all out a while later. “I guess they’re just biased about my designs and they can’t be convinced. That’s why, not wanting to waste the Princess’ gift, I proposed to relay this matter to you.” She smiled subtly and closed her eyes. It brought my host’s full attention to her. “When it comes to ‘male’ fashion and emphasizing the stallion traits, only Hoovo Boss can be as good as you, but his designs look more like an executioner rather than a defender, so I chose you.”

The silence that ensued was long and awkward. Black kept shifting his gaze from one mare to another, trying to find or read something in their eyes.

“I… I’m not sure…” He swallowed loudly an lowered his eyes. “Your Highness… I’m not a right pony for this job. I… I’m against this whole ‘war’.” He spoke as if the word “war” was new to him and he didn’t get used to using it yet. “I’m against killing…”

Rarity sighed loudly, but Celestia went silent for a moment. I heard her standing up, her golden horseshoes knocking against the ground. Two of her hooves came into Black’s view. He raised his head, daring to look into Celestia’s eyes.

“That was a tough decision.” Her voice was full of sadness and hurt. I wanted to cheer her up somehow, even though she was just my vision. “I’m not proud of it, but I made it because I can’t let my Little Ponies suffer. But if you accept this task, you’ll be able to lower the death count.”

“But how? How my clothes can save ponies?” Black was clearly afraid. Maybe of her rage or of letting her down?

“When an animal wants to avoid death, it uses mimicry.” The Princess spoke calmly, without stuttering. “It tries to blend in with the environment, hoping the predators don’t notice it. Ponies lost that ability long ago and that’s why they have to deal with it differently. If you manage to create something that’d let them hide from the zebras, less of them will die.” She looked into his eyes with the same expression I remembered from the stained glass window. I knew what he had to feel.

“Less casualties means bigger success and, consequently, sooner end of the war. We all want it to end quickly.” She sat back down and went silent for a moment. “No one wants to die. Death doesn’t stop killing, but life can fight against it.”

So those words… Were her words?

“Will you do that to save lives of My Little Ponies?” she spoke with a plea in her voice. I was surprised that such a powerful creature could just ask for something, even though she was surely powerful enough to turn him into dust.

The silence was incredibly long. Black seemed to weigh all the options. Finally, he nodded, relaxing slightly. “I’ll do that. Let’s hope they won’t be used for long…”

The image of the Princess smiling slightly drifted away and I felt being sucked into something again.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

I woke up on the tiles in the same place where I was sitting before the vision. I had my hooves, head, tail, everything mine, including clothes. Nothing between my legs. Whoo..! I shook off the numbness and saw a familiar black and yellow orb in front of me. I wanted to grab it with my magic, but then I remembered how it ended up last time.

I reached for the orb carefully with my hoof and poked it, shrinking into myself. It rolled harmlessly and the visions didn’t come back. I grabbed it with my hooves and hid it in my saddlebag. So much happened today. The rat pig, Killerdose and the rat, massacre of the dogs and finally, that. I was tired, but I knew there was no time for resting.

I stood up and gave one final look at the stained glass window depicting Celestia. Now I understood who she was. What she meant. I wasn’t as majestic as her, but I had to find a bit of her strength in myself. Nothing will change death. Standing up against it could change everything. I walked outside.

Killerdose and Black took away the bodies; only bloody spots were an indication of what had happened there. It still made me nauseous, but it was easier to get on with now. Their death, although cruel and unwanted, was needed. Doctor was just packing ammo and rations of the dog scouts to his cart while Black was sitting on a half-destroyed wall and playing harmonica. When I walked out, they both looked at me. Killerdose’s gaze bore an expression of guilt, as if he wanted to apologise, but I smiled at him, telling him that it was nothing.

With a gentle blow, the ghoul stopped playing and jumped down from his seat. I walked to him and hugged him, much to his surprise.

“Thanks… But what is that marble?” I asked when he recovered and returned the hug. He smelled like old parchment and cologne.

“It’s a Memory Orb,” he said calmly, gently freeing himself from my grasp. Perhaps he wasn’t into hugging, but I knew he was just feeling awkward. “You can keep it. It’s a gift. It contains my memories from the Great Galloping Gala, a year after the war started.”

We stood like this for a while, Killerdose looking at us as if we spoke in some foreign language. Which reminded me of one thing.

“Will you tell me what have you talked about with Fleur?” I asked, trying to make the most innocent expression I could muster.

“That, my dear, is a mystery for you to solve later,” my friend replied, fixing the gun on his back. “If you can, eat some field ration and get ready to the march, doctor and you. I’m going scouting. Also, cheer up!” He ruffled my mane and went off. I kept looking at him for quite a long while before deciding to eat something.

* * *

We soon left Gladstone and took the road going south. We were walking up the hill, trotting on the old, crumbling asphalt. Gallant guided us through a small forest full of old, rotting trees standing like the monuments of the life of old, despite being dead.

I was scared and anxious about this road. It looked a bit like the one from my nightmare when I was killing the Tide. Luckily, there was no swamp here; everything was rather dry, the road wasn’t changing much and there were no lightnings striking. After visiting the church, it was easier for me to overcome my fear. I felt, better, stronger, and I knew that I had to live.

The setting sun finally pierced through the Shroud and the stick-like tree branches. To cheer myself up and stop thinking of this view, I put the PipColt’s headphone in my ear and turned on the radio.

Cloud Waker wasn’t talking, but the piano music and Sapphire Shores’ voice were quite uplifting.

When you're alone and life is making you lonely

You can always go downtown

When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry

Seems to help, I know, downtown

Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city

Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty

How can you lose?

The lights are much brighter there

You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares

So go downtown

The music kept playing while we walked until we reached the top of the hill, where the forest ended as if it was cut. There were still trees there, but they stood in a lane around a large, concrete building standing below. It was enormous and I was pretty sure the whole Gladstone could fit into it and there’d still be some place left. On its roof, there was a large, decrepit inscription saying “Great Apple Mall”. One “P” and one “L” fell off for some reason; the “L” was half-buried in the ground in front of the buiding while the collapsed “P” lay on the roof.

The walls were painted dull peach and red, with a couple of windows; however, they were mostly covered in adverts of products remembering the Old World. Sparkle Cola with its mascot Fluttershy, Autowagon showroom Highwaymare, Starbucked, Mr. Bean’s Java’s Cup...

Most of the space in front of the building was occupied by an asphalt square with white lines, blurred by time. The wrecks of autowagons and regular wagons littered the place and it could be seen that the building wasn’t destroyed in an attack (although there was some small damage), but just two hundred years of no repairs. Gallant pointed at the small gate under a roof nearby. Above it, someone painted on the wall a symbol depicting a wide-open red eye.

“There are two guards there. They have battle saddles.” My companion had a good sight, I had to admit. Only when he showed me them, I realised they were ponies, not, dunno, trash cans. “We’d better walk around this place. There’s no use getting into a fight.”

Although I thought he was right, soon it turned out the Wasteland didn’t think so.

Things will be great when you're downtown

No finer place for sure, downtown

Everything's waiting for you

Don't hang around and let your problems surround you

There are movie shows downtown

Maybe you know some little places to go to

Where they never close downtown

Just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bossa nova

You'll be dancing with 'em too before the night is over

Happy again

The lights are much brighter there

You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares

So go downtown

Where all the lights are bright, downtown

Waiting for you tonight, downtown

You're gonna be alright now, downtown

Downtown

“GRANATEN!” Killerdose’s voice made me stand in place rapidly with eyes wide open.

Something knocked under my hooves and when I looked down I saw two metal apples with light blue stripes painted in the middle. My eyes widened (I wasn’t sure how it was possible) even more.

“GET THE HELL DOWN!” I heard Black’s voice before something hit me, throwing me on the ground.

The grenades started to spark and exploded in white light. I lay down, numb, my mind slowly drifting away. I looked into the white sky and after a moment I saw two black silhouettes leaning over me… Then I fainted.

Things will be great when you're downtown

No finer place for sure, downtown

Everything's waiting for you

Author's Note

Footnote: Level Up

New Perk: Educated. Each level of Educated will add +2 skill points when you gain a new experience level. This Perk works best when purchased early in your adventure.
Sneak - 5% ability improvement.

Author's Note:
Once Again I would like to thank Kkat for her technical support and all the other wonderful writers like Mimezinga, Fuzzy, Somber and others who influenced my creativity. I would also like to give out special thanks to Samey90 for his wonderful work with the translation.