Epilogue

"The end to all things. Sad, right?"

The air was never different. The scent of mud and dirt was always apparent. But one would learn to ignore it, or live with a sinking feeling of depression wherever they looked. Not many ponies would be able to live on with that. Especially soul-torn ponies. A loud crackle of thunder broke through the darkened sky, and a figure moved through the rain that assaulted the ground.

Hoofsteps clattered on the mud, leaving prints. And rain droplets drenched her barding and trickled off of her sunglasses. She stepped past a skeleton, grazing the rib cage of the long dead pony.

What the pony was approaching was a grave. Marked by a wooden planks. With words scrawled poorly that read "Here lies Crackle. A colt that died too young. R.I.P.". As she stood over the grave, she let out a sigh. But the sigh conveyed no feelings. No dread. No sadness.

Just indifference.

What was interesting about this, the whole thing that captivated her and piqued her interest, was the fact that there were skeletons littering the area. It made sense, too, as up the path aways was a Stable. Stable 56. But that is irrelevant. What piqued her interest is that somepony had the time to dig a grave for a pony here, instead of all the other skeletons. She could tell the grave wasn't fresh either, as the planks were worn. Some black moss growing on the edges. But, it looked strong. Sturdy. As if it could survive another millennium embedded in the ground. Somewhere, not far away, crackles of gunfire rang out. But this did not disturb the mare. It soon ended, replaced by a thundering sound. The storm was worsening.

"What a sham." She mumbled. Rain droplets slid down her sunglasses, but she made no move to clean them off.

Her eyes scanned the planks before going over the grave. It was small, alright. Small enough to fit a child. But she could tell the grave was dug by hoof, not shovel. But again, it was insignificant. She could hear hoofsteps behind her. An NCR trooper, her comrade, was approaching. He was of a lesser rank. A private first class in the regular main body of the NCR. New Califoalia Republic. Nowhere near the level of training, she a Ranger, had.

"Lieutenant Ghost. What are looking at?" He asked, frowning. She didn't look back at him, but simply sighed. Some rain droplets landing in her mouth, which she promptly swallowed. Her eyes returned to the named scrawled on the planks, aged over time.

Crackle...

"Just an image of a time passed."

Author's Note

Story couldn't have been done without the editing expertise of both atronosthelast and TheStratosphere. I heavily advise that if you need editing done, look to both of them. If one can't do it, i'm sure the other could.

Thanks guys!

I would also like to thank you for reading this story! For me, its so hard to write Fo:E! Its just something I'm not used to. I hope you all enjoyed this new take on the Fo:E universe.