The world is mean and bleak. All that remains is acres upon acres of scorched earth with unimaginable levels of insanity strewn across it. The world is dead, deader than dead. What was harmony is now disharmony, nothing but a pure void of living Tartarus.

A soul that reflects on what the Equestrian nation used to be has one last and final thought of the downfall of civilised society. Where he stood when there was no disaster looming over the governmental powers of Equestria.

Rating:Teen (for themes)

There is some blood in this, but only used lightly, so if you are uncomfortable with visualising blood, reader discretion is advised!

IMPORTANT NOTE: This story isn't intended to be a Fallout: Equestria-related piece of fanfiction, but quite the opposite. It is a piece of work I wanted to try out as a test of how I build a gloomy, sympathetic and empathetic atmosphere in the setting of an apocalypse. Nothing more, nothing less.