Futile inched his way toward the edge of an impact crater he had decided to investigate, having spotted the thing which made it coming down from the sky near moments after the Sisterhood and he had parted way's. He had almost turned back to try and find them, but something about the strangeness of the thing falling from the sky told him it wasn’t something he should bother them with.

He reached the edge of the crater after a little while, peaking over only to have his eyes widen in shock, for at the bottom of the crater lay a pony the likes of which he had never seen before.

Her coat was the color of the deepest black, so black that when the light hit it it shined like oil. Her mane was of the deepest royal purple, and it came it two parts. The main part acted like a normal mane, running down the sides of her head, but the other part reached across her back, moving down till it ended in a tufted of hair at the end of her lizard like tail.

As he got closer to her, he noticed that her forelegs ended in four fingered paws, each with claws looking sharper than anything he had ever seen. He also noticed that under her fur were scales, the same color as her fur but shining even brighter then her fur, making it easy to differentiate between the two. But the most intriguing feature she held was that she had three horns, one which was a curved unicorn horn in its natural place, while the other two were located on the sides of her head, curving toward along her bottom jaw.

Adding up all these facts, Futile knew this pony could be only one thing, but he was finding it very hard to believe, for it was a thing out of old equestrian mythos…a legendary Kirin.

In the oldest tails of Equestria, long before the bombs and the mega spells had ruined everything, the kirin were said to be the guardians of the two princesses before they confronted Discord, watching over them as they grew and teaching them the lessons of friendship and magic that would one day help them to rule over all of Equestria.

“But where the hell did she come from,” thought Futile as he moved over to her, placing his hoof on her neck to check her pulse, and finding it relativity quickly.

“Well, at least she’s alive,” he said aloud, “better get her to a nearby town fast though, I just hope nothing attacks me on the way.”

Tenderly, as if he were picking up a new born foal, Futile used his hands to pick up the strange mare and place her upon his back, and as he was making sure she was comfortable, he felt her nuzzle against his neck and breathe in deep.

He stood still for a long moment, praying he had not woken her up and possibly made her angry, but after a little while he heard her sigh in relief, and then felt her rest her head against his back.

Futile let out sigh as well, then he began to walk, reaching into his saddle bags and pulling out his Pipbuck 2500 to get a lay of the land. It had been a gift from his mother, who had built it using the scavenged remains of damaged Pipbuck 2000's that she had recovered on her travels across the west coast, something she was very proud of.

He turned it on, then activated the map function to see where he was, scanning a little ahead before smiling.

“The goddesses must be smiling on me today, were not too far from Rivet City, and with that loot I took from those muties, I’ll be able get you looked after nice and proper.”

*

It took him a while, but they eventually reached the entrance to Rivet City after a few hours of travel, the goddesses smiling on them once again as the road to it had remained mercifully clear of the usual band of satyrs, though even that made Futile a bit wary. The satyrs usually had a raiding party on the side of the road which passed by their base in the Clover Memorial, mostly to try and snatch would be travelers who weren’t smart enough to travel through the metro system, and the fact that there had been no muties in that outpost made him wonder where the hell they were.

“No point worrying about it now, got to get you to the good doctor.”

He heard a low hum of acceptance, and smiled at that, before starting his climbing up to the bridge. The mare had been coming to slowly over their trip, only becoming conscious enough to get a good look at him, before falling asleep on his back, though she would occasionally hum or mumble when he talked to her.

When he finally reached the top of the platform, he discovered to his chagrin that the bridge had been retracted, but after glancing toward the intercom he caught the reason out of the corner of his eye. Nearby the metro entrance was a camp, a series of intact military transport trucks surrounding some tents, with a sign which identified the camp as the Scavengers Caravan.

He had traded with them a few times, but he knew the ponies of Rivet City didn’t like them, mostly because they had both a tame dire wolf and a domesticated satyr guarding the camp, but they tolerated them because they had enough firepower to keep the satyrs from making it to the city or the metro entrance.

He shook his head, then activated the intercom, “Hey guys, mind extending the bridge?”

“Yeah yeah, just make sure to keep your weapons holstered, and welcome to Rivet City.”

The bridge swung forward to allow passage, and once it locked in place Futile crossed, nodding to one of the guards before entering the door which lead to the inner workings of the city, which was in fact a pre-war charier which had been docked in the bay before the bombs fell.

It had been cut in half, but the half that ever pony was using served as a very good home, and in Futile’s opinion the best doctor in the wasteland lived within her hull.

He knocked on Doctor Stable’s door, the fifty year old stallion lifting up his head and smiling as he caught sight of his old friend. “Mister Task, I thought you were on the run, what brings you to my shop today.”

“Nothing relating to me,” said Futile with a grin, “but I do have a patient for you, one I must ask that you be discreet about.”

He lifted the young mare off his back, placing her on the cot before removing the blanket he had wrapped around her during their trek, and watched with bemusement as Stable gasped at what he saw.

“Wha…what the fuck is she?”

“Do you want my honest opinion?”

The doctor nodded, “Ok, but this is going to sound far fetched. Judging by her appearance, and from some old tales I have heard over the years, I would have to say she is a kirin.”

That got a derisive snort from Stable, “You can’t be serious, those things are a myth, dragon ponies from fire side stories meant to calm fillies and colts when raiders are about.”

“I know that,” said Futile with a grin, “but that doesn’t change to fact that she matches the description from every tale I’ve heard, right down to the horns.”

Stable looked hesitant, but then looked back at her, his eyes taking in all her features before he sighed, “what do you need me to do?”

“I just need you to make sure she is ok, I mean she looks fine now I know, but I found her after she fell from the sky in a ball of fire.”

Stables eyes widened, and then he looked at the mare again, whistling before he spoke. “Well if you’re right, then she obviously inherited the dragon’s ability to withstand fire, but where will you be while I check on her?”

“I’ll be in the market; I got some stuff I need to sell as well as some things I need to purchase, so I shouldn’t be gone for too long.”

He watched his old friend nod, then turned to leave, only to stop as the young mare reached out and grabbed his leg with her paw, her eyes opened fully for the first time since they got there as she looked into his own.

He was struck by the fact that her eyes were like none he had ever seen, having no sclera or irises to speak of, and instead were just two pools of dark purple.

“…P…please,” she pleaded, “d…don’t g…go…please stay.”

Futile stared at her for a long moment, and then kneeled down next to the bed, getting close to her before speaking. “It’s alright, I just need to do some business in the market, then I will be right back, plus I am leaving you in the hooves of a pony I have trusted with my life many times over, so you have nothing to fear from him ok?”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded her head, letting go of his leg before laying back down.

“I’ll take good care of her,” said Stable, then he shooed him out the door, before turning back to the kirin and giving her a smile. “Alright girl, let’s have a look at you.”

*

“And you’re sure you are out of extra strength healing potions?” inquired Futile as he gazed at some of the merchants other chems and potions.

“The caravans haven’t been able to get through lately, apparently there’s word of a town full of cannibals near the local trade rout, and they keep snatching up traders when they are asleep, but nopony knows where they are.”

The merchant shot Futile a pointed look, causing his ears to splay back in shame, for he knew why she was looking at him that way, but he knew it would be useless to argue about it, and instead decided to steer the conversation away from that. “Do they say where they have been disappearing, I plan on heading out after my companion is looked at, and I could check to see if these rumors are true?”

The merchant nodded, marking the location on his pip-buck, and then turning away as Futile turned away. He headed over to Flak ‘N Shrapnel’s next, taping Flak on the shoulder before pulling out the weapons he had scavenged and giving him a smirk, “got some guns to sell yah.”

“I can see that,” said Flak with a smirk of his own, his horn lighting up as he lifted some of them up to look at. “Hm, some of these are in pretty good shape, where the hell did you get these?”

“Found most of these in the pack of an satyr behemoth, first time I have seen one outside downtown in over a year, it’s scary.”

“I know,” said Flak, looking over the last gun before setting it down and putting on his business face. “Alright, I’ll give you 200 caps for each assault rifle, 100 caps for each hunting rifle, and I’ll give you 700 for the minigun.”

Futile pondered this for a moment, tapping his chin with a trigger finger for a moment, before smiling as he opened his mouth to speak. “I’ll agree to 700 for the minigun, but I want 250 for each of the assault rifles, and 140 for each of the hunting rifles.”

“Oh come on C.C. that’s too much, I’m trying to run a business here.”

Futile chuckled at that, “I know that Flak, but I also know that once I sell these rifles to you you’ll turn right around and sell them at double what you are willing to pay, the hunting rifles even more, so really what I ask is quite reasonable.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, each of them waiting for a crack to show in the others resolve, even though they both knew where this was going. Then, Flack spat on the ground, before shaking his head as a laugh escaped his lips. “Damb you you snake tongued devil, you just can’t let me catch a break can you?”

“Just trying to keep you honest my friend,” said Futile with a grin, before accepting the caps Flak gave him, then walking away and heading over to the local diner. When he sat down, one of the owners walked over to him, the stallion smiling as he pulled out a quill and paper, “Well howdy there partner, what can I get yah tonight.”

“Two moalrat steaks if you would, feeling mighty peckish today.”

“Two moalrat steaks comin right up,” said the chef, walking away to prep the food as Futile settled to wait.

As he waited, he would occasionally wave at a passing pony, the residents of Rivet City not even fazed by his odd appendages, but there were still those who would not wave back, too afraid to even look him in the eyes.

He was spared the inevitable train of thought his mind would take by the arrival of food, his mouth watering as he licked his lips and thanked the chef. He bent down to take a bite, but just as his teeth were about to sink into the meal, he caught the scent of it.

His eyes narrowed, for he knew what the meat they had tried to serve him was, and it infuriated him that they would even try to slip it to him. So he straightened up, ignoring the growling of his stomach and the itch that was developing behind his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak. “Grill, could you come back here please.”

*

“Well from everything I can tell you're in perfect health, and what scratches you suffered from your fall seemed to have healed on their own, so their nothing to worry about.”

“Th…thank you doctor,” said the mare, sitting up in the bed and continuing to hide her face behind her mane, as she had been doing ever since Futile left. “Do…Doctor?”

“Yes?” said Stable, turning to look at her as she tried to speak.

“T…” she tried, “the stallion who carried me in here, could you…could you tell me more about him?”

“Futile Task,” asked Stable, smiling when the mare nodded. “Sure can, he’s been my friend ever since he came to the capital wasteland.”

The mare looked confused, “Wait, he wasn’t originally from the capital?”

Stable shook his head with a laugh, “that old codger, hell no. No he came from someplace out west called the Marejave Wasteland, hellish place if you believe what he says, and with some of the scars I saw on his body, I would wager he was telling the truth. He came here oh around…twenty years ago, and he was thirty at the time; youngest I ever heard to walk the big empty alone and make it through with all limbs intact.”

“When we met, the kid was in a tussle with a Dra, kicking and biting at the thing like some feral ghoul, so almost shot him along with the damn Dra. Anyways, after I didn’t shoot him we got to talking, and he told me his story, well as much as he was willing to tell, and we became fast friends. We traveled the capital for a while, me as his guard and him becoming a sort of traveling messenger pony for the few settlements that are struggling to eek out a living here, till finally we parted ways, though that was after he hooked up with the Sisterhood of Crusaders.”

The young mare nodded, then slowly peeked out from her mane, the words she wanted to say next catching in her throat as she tried to speak. “And is…is he seeing anypony, like a mare?”

“Not that I know of,” said Stable as he put away his tools, “why, you interested in him?”

The mare blushed, hiding behind her mane again as she nodded, causing Stable to chuckle before walking over and tapping her on the shoulder. “Well why don’t we go see how he is doing then, I got to go grab some food for myself anyway, and I’m pretty sure after what you’ve been through you need something as well.”

The mare nodded, then got up, following the doctor out and then down the hall, keeping her face hidden as the residents all stared at her, whispers following as they left.

*

They made it to the balcony overlooking the markets diner, Stable stopping the young mare as they saw Futile having a rather loud argument with the diner’s owner.

“How many times do I have to say it Grill, this is not the food I ordered, how hard is it for you to hear that and take it back.”

“And how many times do I have to tell you C.C. this is what you…”

“Damn it Grill have you forgot what the hell I am,” yelled Futile as he glared at the earth pony, “I can fucking smell that this isn’t mole-rat meat, so can you just replace it.”

“You stay here miss,” said Stable, “I’ll go see what the hell is going on.”

As he moved down the stair, he watched as Grill leaned closer to his old friend, and he could just make out what the old coot was saying. “Ok look, some hunters came in to trade a while…hey don’t give me that look not everypony has the same shoot first policy when it comes to them that you do, especially when they’re the ones who provide most of the food around here. Now as I was saying, they came in to trade a while back and somehow managed to slip this crap in with the rest of my goods, and I haven’t been able to get rid of it. Now I know you occasionally….partake in this meat, and if you could just…”

“No,” said Futile flatly.

Grill looked like he was about to speak again, but just as he opened his mouth, his daughter Galley appeared with a plate of mole-rat steaks. “Sorry about the mess up Futile, our chef must not have been looking at what he was cooking.”

“Galley,” started Grill.

“And I believe you have some other orders to fill out,” said Galley to the stallion, “so get going, I got this covered.”

“But honey…”

“Shoo,” said Galley, continuing to glare at him till he went away, then placing down the plate and looking at Futile with a sheepish grin. “Sorry bout that Futile, my daddy has been trying to get rid of that meat for a while now, and I’m guessing he just got it into his head that he could sneak it past our resident wasteland thestral.”

“It’s ok,” said Futile pleasantly, “it’s not the first time I’ve run into a trader who had a hunter slip him some unwanted product, just the first time they tried using me as a glorified trash bin.”

Galley was about to respond when Stable walked over to the table, causing Futile to smile as he drew him a chair. “Hey Doc, how’s the new patient doing?”

“Great, in fact,” said Stable, waving to somepony out of sight, which turned out to be the mystery mare, “she said she wanted to come and see you.”

The mare moved to their table, ignoring the stares of everypony as she sat down next to Futile, before turning to him and speaking. “He…hello Futile…”

“Hello Miss…” started Futile, only to stop when his mind came up blank. “I’m sorry; I seem to have forgotten to ask you what your name was.”

The mare blushed, “I…I was never given a name…”

Both Futile and Stable looked shocked, but none more so than Galley, who was shaken from her stupor by the statement and forced to speak. “What, a pretty mare like you not given a name, your parents must have been raiders or something, not to name their own child.”

At the mention of parents, the mare seemed to stiffen, but before she could speak Galley barreled over her. “Hm let’s see, black fur and scales, dark bluish purple mane…”

Galley mumbled one feature after another as she examined the mare, causing her to look skittish as she was probed and touched, till finally Galley moved in front of her to look at her eyes. “Whooey, would you look at them beauties, reminds me of that old pony rhyme my mum used to tell me.”

“What rhyme,” asked Stable skeptically.

Galley snorted, “Oh come on you can’t tell me your momma never told you any rhymes, but as I was saying, the rhyme I’m talking about is the Sorceress Rhyme. “Sorceress eyes of enrapturing color, often cause stallions hearts to wander,” you know that old one.”

Both the stallions at the table looked confused, but Galley beamed, turning toward the mare and grabbing her forepaws. “That’s it, we’ll call you Sorceress!”

The young mare looked startled, but for the first time, she actually smiled, nodding her head as she spoke. “I…I like it, it sounds fitting.”

Galley nodded, “Great, now, for you Mister Stable, an order of the usual?”

Stable nodded, “Alright, and what about you Miss Sorceress?”

Sorceress looked skeptical for a moment, and then looked at Futile’s plate, before turning back to Galley and speaking. “If it would not be too much trouble, could you possibly bring me a cooked mole-rat, whole if you can manage?”

Galley’s eyes widened, then she chuckled, “Well damn girl, you must have worked up one hell of an appetite; at least our cook will finally have and excuse to use some of his more unsavory skills.”

Galley walked away, yelling to the cook as Sorceress sighed, turning to Futile and smiling at him as she spoke. “She is nice; I hope I can get to know her better.”

“Oh you no doubt will,” said Stable kindly, “with as often as Futile comes around Rivet City, you’re bound to get plenty of chances to talk to her.”

Futile looked skeptically at Stable, “um doc, what you talking about?”

“Well I assumed once you ate and then paid me for looking her over, you and the little lady would be leaving on your next adventure.”

Futile looked at him, and then took a bite of his steak, chewing slowly before swallowing and answering his old friend. “Well yeah I would like that, but I don’t even know is she can handle herself in a fight, I mean yeah she has those claws but…”

“I can fight,” said Sorceress, before drooling as her mole rat was brought to her, digging in deep as Futile stared at her before resurfacing with a leg and a smile.

“Where did you learn to fight?” asked Futile, watching with some amusement as she nibbled on the leg with glee.

Sorceress stopped for a moment, then continued to nibble, thinking over her next words carefully as she ate. She knew she couldn’t tell them the full truth, for she knew from the information she had gleaned from her creators, the Enclave were not well received in the wasteland. But she also knew that she needed to say something, so she decided to settle for the truth, or at least as much as she could at this time.

“My…captors trained me in many different forms of combat, mostly for their own perverse purposes. They…did things to me, to make me stronger, smarter…all so that they could use me to hurt others, which is why I escaped.”

She returned to eating, allowing Stable to lean next to Futile and speak, the stallion obviously not realizing that she could still hear them even with his hushed tones. “Well that explains some of those scars I saw on her body, though them slavers must had some nasty whips to tear through dragon scales.”

“Well I’ll give you that, but remember I told you she fell from the sky, and that implies an airship.”

“So?”

“So,” said Futile in frustration, “so the only slavers I ever heard of with airships were the raider gangs from Charge Cargo, and those fuckers were blasted back to the stone age years ago by the Sisterhood of Crusaders chapter there. Also not once in my entire time in the wasteland have I ever heard of anypony managing to capture a live, let alone real kirin and use it for fights, and that’s something you would want spread around, especially with how many legends there are about kirin in the wastes.”

“Well they could have found her in the big empty, I mean there is still a lot about those spots in the wastes that are left untouched, especially that place, that we simply do not know about, so who knows what could have possibly been born out there.”

“I don’t know, something about her story tells me that’s unlikely. She said things were done to her, to make her stronger and smarter, and that makes me think of scientists, not slavers…and it also makes me think she wasn’t even born…more likely…she was grown.”

As they continued to whisper, they didn’t notice that Sorceress was watching them, a hint of fear in her eyes. She knew they were drawing closer to the truth, but she still didn’t want to reveal it, for she worried it would taint their entire view on her, and make it so that she couldn’t accompany Futile on his travels.

She was about the start eating again, when she caught what Stable was saying next and froze; dread filling her as she listened to him.

“You don’t think it could be Enclave could you, I mean they got them radio broadcasts promising…”

“Stable I thought I told you those broadcasts are a joke,” said Futile simply, causing Sorceress to sigh in relief as he continued. “I told you before that their main base was destroyed years ago back out west, and whatever remnants of their forces that survived were scattered to the winds a long ago, never to be heard from again.”

“Then what about…”

“Don’t you ever listen to DJ Pon-3?” asked Futile with a growl, “that broadcast is older than a lot of other ponies think, and I would not be surprised if it was just some stunt done by some Enclave remnant member to try and scare the Sisterhood, after all it was thanks in part to them that the Enclave fell in the first place.”

Stable relented, noticing Sorceress surface with a belch, nudging Futile before getting up from his chair. “Well I better get back to the clinic; no doubt I’ll get somepony in who needs patching up, you two have fun now.”

As he left Futile got up, indicating that Sorceress should do the same. “Well come on, let’s pay for your food, get you into a decent set of armor, and then lets hit the road.”

*

It took a while to get everything ready, but once Futile had gotten Sorceress armored up and armed with a weapon, they had set off, moving down the road till hours later they were moving along the river, heading for parts unknown.

“You know,” said Sorceress, “my captors kept telling me that life out here was harsh, but it seems so peaceful now, not like they said at all.”

“Well we’ve been lucky,” said Futile with a grin, “usually there are a lot more creatures and raiders on the road, and sometimes worse. Same thing happened when I carried you to Rivet City, and I have no idea why.”

“It might be me then,” said Sorceress, “dragons are natural predators, and some creatures may be picking up on my sent and fleeing.”

“Hm…that may be, but that will only last for a time,” said Futile.

“What do you mean?”

Futile turned to her as they walked, “predator smells do detour the creatures of the wastes, and sometimes even ponies who can sense it. But eventually even the most skittish of beasts will ignore those smells, even if it leads to their death.”

“Oh…I see,” said Sorceress, pondering what his words implied and what it would probably lead to in the future. As she pondered this however, she saw Futile pull something out of his saddle bags, Sorceress becoming curious when she saw it was some sort of hand held device.

“What is that,” she asked, pointing to the device and causing Futile to smile.

“This is my Pip-Buck 2500,” said Futile with a smile, “it was a gift from my mother, for she built it for me when I decided to leave for the Marejave wasteland. It's based off of the pip-buck 2000 models back out west, but it's more advanced then even the Pip-Buck 3000 models they have out here.”

“So it’s like my own then,” said Sorceress, causing Futile to wheel around in surprise.

“What, you don’t have a pipbuck…do you?”

Instead of answering with words, Sorceress sat down on her haunches, lifting up her left foreleg and then pressing down on a particular spot with one of her right fingers, causing a holographic projection of a pipbuck 3000 to form around her left leg.

“I believe it’s a prototype,” said Sorceress as Futile got a closer look at it, “at least that’s what I guessed from what conversations I overheard between my captors. They said it would do wonders for those without power armor, for they would be able to have the same kind of tactical spells that old pip-bucks granted, without all the hassle.”

Futile stared at it a moment longer, then went back to his own pip-buck, fiddling with the dials till he got to the transmissions section. “Well we can talk about that later, right now I want to see if DJ Pon-3 has anything new to say.”

Sorceress got curios, moving closer as he tuned in, before jumping as a loud voice came from the speakers.

“What’s up wastelanders, this is DJ Pon-3, and you’re listening to GNR, that’s Galaxy News Radio in case you somehow forgot. And here’s me, your adorable hostess, with the news. For those of you not in the know, to the northwest of the town of Remnant is this Stable, Stable 101. Now believe it or not this one’s still got ponies living in it, and every few years or so somepony comes scrabbling out.”

“Well wouldn’t you know it, someponies come out of it again, and I kid you not, he came to visit yours truly right here in the studio. Now this cat, Glacier is his name, had been in that hole for years…”

Futile lost track of the rest of the broadcast, his mind halting on the name of the pony who had visited the DJ. It had been a long time since he had traveled with the stallion to Stable 101, escorting him there along with Star Paladin Cross, so that he could get his little colt someplace safe.

And now he was back outside, and it sounded like he had left his son in Stable 101, for reasons the thestral could not fathom.

“…so if you see Glacier out there, say hello, be kind to our new brother, and show him that here on the outside we always fight the good fight. And hey, in case a light bulb just started glowing over your head, you can flick the switch and forget about it. You’re not getting into that Stable, cause whoevers living there sure as hell doesn’t want what you’re selling. And no you, can’t knock down the door, it weighs like thirteen tons.”

“So until next time, this is DJ Pon-3, and you’ve been listening to Galaxy News Radio, bringing you the truth, no matter how bad it hurts.”

Futile shut off the transmission, putting the pip-buck away in his pack before getting up and indicating that Sorceress should do the same. “Come on, if we get going we can reach Ponyville by nightfall.”

“What’s the hurry, does this have to do with the stallion DJ Pon-3 mentioned?”

“Yes, he was an old friend of mine, and I want to know why the hell he left that stable after nineteen years of staying down there.”

*

They made it to Ponyville by nightfall, Futile telling Sorceress to stay low as they moved through the rubble towards the school. Futile had been checking in to Galaxy News every now and then, and had heard from the DJ that another stable dweller had left shortly after Glacier, and had been said to have been heading toward the school to scavenge supplies.

Futile really hoped that wasn’t the case, for he knew that school had a nasty habit of housing raider gangs from time to time, no matter how often it was cleared out.

They finally reached a building outside of the school, just in time to see a raider stumble out of the front door. Futile then pulled out his sniper rifle and his pip-buck, strapping the device to his foreleg before pulling out one of its handy modifications and attaching it to his head. He sighted in with his rifle, and then activated the attachment, the world slowing down as the pip-bucks patented Bullet Time Spell (B.T.S.) kicked in.

B.T.S. worked on the same principles as the Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell (S.A.T.S.), but with one major difference. Instead of allowing the user to target certain parts of a pony’s body, it simply slowed down the user’s perception of time, allowing them more time to think as well as allow them better aim in dicey situations.

Later in life, Futile would thank the gods of Equis that he had used B.T.S. over S.A.T.S. that day, for if he had used the other spell, he would have never noticed the Pip-Buck 3000 on the raiders foreleg, which immediately caused him to end the spell as the pony collapsed on the ground.

*

Footnote:
Futile Task: Maximum Level Achieved!
Starting Perk: Bullet Wizard
You have gotten used to the time differential of the B.T.S., allowing for faster reaction times, and has even increased your movement speed by a fair amount. Your accuracy during Bullet Time increases by 50%, and your reaction time and movement speed increases by 25%.

Sorceress: Maximum Level Achieved!
Starting Perk: Healing Factor
Like the hero's from the old pony comics as well as the legendary creature, the hydra, you possess the mighty healing factor, allowing you to recover from any injury save for those induced by magic, acid or burns.
Health regenerates by a factor of 25% during combat and by a factor of 75% out of combat.
Damaged limbs regenerate by a factor of 25% during combat and by a factor of 75% out of combat.
Healing Factor cannot heal wounds created by acid, burns, or magic.
Healing Factor cannot reduce radiation exposure, nor cure its effects.
Healing Factors regeneration factor decreases by 15% per level of radiation exposure.

Author's Note

Yay, the lone wanderer is finally introduced, but next chapter is going to be a while, because it will be way longer then this one, so stay tuned, and till then, here are the special features for this chapter.

Mod Inspired Content:
Futile’s Pip-Buck 2500:
This Pip-Buck was inspired by A Familiar Friend - The Pip-Boy 2500 by EdisLeado, which can be seen in this picture here:

The Scavengers Caravan:
This group was inspired by the Scavengers Armors mod by tumbajamba, which you can see in this picture here:

Sorceresses Holographic Pip-Boy Prototype:
This was inspired by the Holo Pip-Boy 4000 mod by nisen, which can be seen in this picture here:

The Bullet Time Spell:
This was inspired by the DK Bullet Time mod by dunderklumpen, and you can witness its effects in this video here: