Vagabond, a Fallout Equestria Novel

A long, long time ago, in the land of Equestria… Lots of ponies died. Oh, some blew up, others died of radiation, some even got the luxury of dying of shock, but nevertheless, they died. Balefire bombs decimated the country, wiping entire cities off the map and leaving others completely uninhabitable. Even the Princesses, whom we thought immortal, met their demise. It was like something had torn a hole in the country, (Not talking about the literal craters the bombs left.), ponies -no, the people as a whole, simply gave up on living.

Except for a select few. Only the luckiest were spared of their undoings by the massive underground sanctuaries, named Stables, that protected ponies from the harshness above. Completely blast-proof, radiation proof, and impossible to enter once they closed, the stables were the ingenious ideas that saved ponykind. Only one problem. Stable-Tec, the company that manufactured these havens, was run by sick freaks for the purpose of ‘social experiments’. For example, one stable came completely unstocked. No food to eat, no water to drink. Nothing at all. Ponies eventually went mad from the hunger and thirst. Another only brought in one pony, a buck we call Puppet, and, you guessed it, a box of puppets. Some said he went mad, others said he killed himself. Me? I believe he left after a while, became part of the wasteland. But you get the point. Stable-Tec was crazy.

Some stables were lucky though. Some actually made it work for hundreds of years. Generation after generation, if each pony did their part in the stable, it would last. Maintenance ponies kept things in the lower levels running smoothly. Security ponies kept residents in line. Colts and fillies did their parts in the classrooms, learning about the jobs they would soon inherit. And the Overmare/Overstallion supervised everything in the stable. However, nothing can run indefinitely. After hundreds of years, resources finally ran out, and eventually the doors were open. Nopony knows exactly when the first stable opened, but that was the date that ponykind stepped into the Equestrian wasteland… and made a fatal mistake.

he wasteland… changes ponies. Only days passed before the first few went insane. Raiding, looting, and pillaging wasn't enough for some. Eventually, some turned to murder. There isn't exactly an abundance of food in the wasteland, and killing and hunger don't mix very well. Thus, cannibalism and the modern wasteland raider was born. A sickness began to spread into the ideals of the pony society. A sickness that killed the virtues of ponykind. It was everypony for themselves, and survival was the prize.

Me? I was born in a stable. Not that I remember much of 17, I was only a colt when we left. Mother always told me I hadn’t missed much, and Father would always give me a sad look when I asked about it. We were wanderers, traders, scavvers. It was the way I lived my life. Wake up, walk. Find a building, scan the perimeter, find what you can, walk away. It was a simple life. I can't say I loved it, hell, I didn't even like it. But it was my life.

“Shura... “ I heard a faint voice say my name, accompanied by a quiet popping noise. Bubbles? I liked popping bubbles…

“Shura..” The voice was more insistent this time, the popping noises louder. What was it..?

“Shura!” Mother yelled as I jolted awake, finally realizing what was happening. Gunshots. I internally groaned, still sore from walking all over this frozen hell yesterday. And the day before. And before that. And before…

And now I'm running! I hate running. It makes me feel useless. ‘Let Mother and I take care of the baddies’ Father always said. Why we couldn't keep a caravan guard, I had no idea. They always seemed insistent on dealing with it themselves. Me? I would go find somewhere safe until it was all over and they could track my PipBuck and blah blah blah.

Nevertheless, I did it anyway, galloping as fast as I could, which I usually did on the daily. Funny. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but after about five minutes I was panting heavily, the cold stinging my throat. I looked at the frozen wasteland around me. Ice, ice, and more ice. Oh look! A building!

“Looks like I know where I’m hiding for now..” I grumbled to myself as I began to trot towards the structure. ‘Stalliongrad Waste Management Center’ appeared on the screen of my PipBuck when I got close enough. Great, now I was hiding in a sewage house. Mother and Father better not be long.
I tried the door. To my surprise, it was unlocked. “Something’s looking up for me.” I said to myself as I walked in.
Immediately, the stench hit me. ‘Looks like decomposition didn't do it's job.’ I thought to myself. This was gonna be a loooong wait.

I decided to hole up in one of the side offices, where the smell was slightly better. A terminal lit up the room, the only light I could see in the whole building. There was also a safe in the corner! My inner scavenger took over, heading to the terminal to see if there was a way to unlock the safe from there. Locked. Of course.
I didn't have much experience at unlocking terminals, but I figured I could try my hoof at it.
One attempt. Incorrect.
Two attempts. Incorrect.
Three attempts. Incorrect.

Final attempt… Got it! I really should've guessed the password would've been something like carrots.
Entry number 1
Entry number 2
Entry number 3
Safe control

Perfect! I clicked on the safe control, and I heard a soft click resound across the room. I walked over and began to inspect the contents.

Pre-war documents… irradiated water... scattered coins… Bingo! A gun! And some ammo! Sure, it looked like an ordinary 10mm pistol, but caps were caps. As I put it in my saddlebag, my PipBuck automatically sorted the ammo and labeled the gun Versatility. Huh. That's pretty cool.

Well, since I would be waiting, I might as well keep myself busy. I turned towards the terminal, clicking on entry 1

Aaaaaand boredom. Something about sewage levels rising and how somepony named Buttercake better keep away from the author's wife.

Entry 2 wasn't any more interesting. Talking about wages and wanting a raise. According to the author, he was the only pony that actually did anything here.
Entry 3:
Sweet Celestia they actually did it. Dropped the big ones. The end of the world and I'm not even gonna see my wife. The kids… oh Goddesses… I just hope the initial blast killed them, instead of dying slowly from the radiation. Like I'm going to… I'm going to die…

Well damn. That was depressing. I didn't even know the buck's name, but I couldn't help feeling sorry for him. I looked around the room and saw his skeleton lying behind the door. I shuddered, hopefully they'd be here soon.
And as soon as I thought it, I heard the building door open, Father’s footsteps resounding throughout.
“Shura..?” I heard him whisper, and I stepped out of the office and towards them, and towards the monotonous life ahead of me.

Footnote: Level Three Reached!
S: 4
P: 7
E: 5
C: 6
I: 7
A: 7
L: 4