Chapter II -Lights

It is here, my good friend, that legends and heroes go to die.

The cold bit at me like millions of tiny parasprites. It was impossible to imagine. Suffice to say that every bit of land that I was able to see was blanketed in at least a few inches of snow. The snow itself was trivial in comparison to the wind as it made it somehow worse. Many of the buildings I would've expected to see one again after my long nap were long since gone. Replaced by mounds of snow covered rubble they acted as tombstones to the pony's now long dead. It was a perfect description of the city as it is now. Once, nearly thirty towering buildings pointed to the sky's protesting the mere idea of gravity. Now, as far as I could tell, only five remained their windows long gone. I was able to see this in full detail, walking by the disheveled ruins of the skyscrapers now with more equipment than before.

I did in fact stop by the old house where me and my family had once lived before the end. It was mostly intact, being a ways away from the explosions that had leveled most of the other structures in the city. The windows were cracked and stained brown with age, the siding was falling apart before my eyes, and the roof was in the process of caving in on itself. The once homely structure did well despite the passing of time otherwise.

Entering through the front door was a rather unnerving feeling. This is the place where I had watched the world die in a cataclysm of Balefire and magic and now I was returning however long later seeing the aftermath of it all. I was shocked to find that the newspaper that my father had read before rushing off to Stable 37 was still sitting on the table where he had awaited his wife's return. I wanted to read the article as I was rather interested in how the government was handling the resource wars. Mostly because of my job. As an Electrical Engineer I was tasked with finding new ways to stretch Equestria's power draw as thin as possible to try and reduce need for zebra coal. Companies like Hippocampus on the other hoof were determined to make my life at the time a living hell as they were convinced that coal was still a good idea for a viable energy source.

I chuckled at this. Reminiscing on the past like this would bring me problems. Still it felt good to let off a little bit of anger on things of the past. I picked up the news paper, unfolded it...

And it disintegrated in my hooves.

"Well... shit."

So, instead of sitting down and reading the article, I decided to make my way up to my room on the second floor. I opened the door, seeing it in the same condition as I have left it. Normally I kept my room tidy, keeping things organized for quick access at any time. The only reason why everything from papers to tools to parts were scattered on the floor was the fact the world had ended so abruptly and with such force that everything was knocked loose. I was astonished to see that the windows hadn't been shattered after all of these years.

I went to the tool cabinet and relieved it of its contents. A set of welding goggles, a stiff metal scrapper, pipe cutters, tin snips, wire cutters, a blow torch, several different wrenches, a hammer, another screwdriver, and my collection of heavy duty magical magnets that would only stick to certain materials. That and the old "Big Book of Arcane Sciences" that I had stored in here for something to read when I was off duty. Now that I had nothing but time to myself, I guess it wouldn't hurt to read later. I never did get past the section "Heaters and How they Work", which was a section on how to repair and maintain magical heating talismans. Somehow that particular thing always threw me through a loop.

While walking out of the house, I started to become more familiar with the brown PipBuck around my foreleg. Much to my surprise, the device was not as heavy as it would visually state. It felt like I was wearing a slightly heavier wrist watch rather than a computer. Fiddling with it gave me a bit more appreciation for the ponies of Stable-Tec who had built them in the first place. The power source that it needed to remain operational after all of these years must've been a nightmare in and of itself to design and implement. That and the processing power. I couldn't imagine being on one to the armies of engineers who were on duty, trying to make this dream a reality. It had an automatic inventory sorter and organizer, an auto-map function, a directional compass, and several other things that I was mesmerized by.

I was too focused on the PipBuck to realize that I had already made it to the city limits. This was the city my family had moved to. The city where I had lived. The engineer's dream city that produced products by the thousands.

Welcome to Detrot! Hope you enjoy your stay!

That is what the billboard said as I stared at it for the longest time. What once was a sprawling metropolis of creation was now a ruin of crumbled skyscrapers, small father-and-son shops, and crumbling road that peaked through the snow. The Detrot River out to the south-east of where I was still flowed by somehow not covered in a sheet of ice. Same could not be said about Lake St. Mare that was farther out to the east as it was covered in a layer of thick ice that must've gone down at least two feet. The ships and barges were surrounded by the ice shelf, further preventing them from reaching their now probably long gone destination. With how much stuff the boats did not have on them, I assumed that it was all at the bottom where no one would ever get to if the ice doesn't melt.

Even from where I stood, I could see some of the great pre-war buildings that stood pointed to the heavens above. Time did not make them fair well, but most of the recognizable landmarks were still able to be distinguished from the others. The First National Building. The Colemare A. Young Municipal Center. The Detrot Riverside Conservatory. The Guardian Building. And, most interesting of all, was the large One Detrot Building that had fallen and was now leaning on the Guardian Building itself. I always knew that the Guardian Building would stand up to anything that was thrown at it, but I didn't think the universe would go and test my theory and then prove it right.

I stood beneath a traffic light, staring at it for a long second. The sight of the traffic light wasn't abnormal as several of those still dangled around the city. This particular one struck me as odd. Of all the the traffic lights that were scattered around, why was this one still working? The sign had two still functioning yellow lights that blinked in a steady and eerie rhythm that did not fit anything that I have seen in this place thus far. This particular traffic light was one I knew very well as I was the one responsible for its design and placement within the city limits. It was made to act not only as a way to regulate traffic, but to act as a sort of compass. If one was to look at Dash Tower (the building right next to the First National Building) they would be looking South. Looking at the First National Building would make one look North. From there you can gauge what direction one would be looking by the two smaller traffic lights as one looks East and the other looks West. Now, looking at this traffic light, I was beginning to wonder why the light that pointed North and the light that pointed East were blinking in a synchronized pattern?

On both a hunch and not having anywhere else pressing to be, I turned towards that direction. I would not learn until later that, when I did leave in that direction, the lights changed. All of the lights worked, but none of them were all on at once.

***

North East was a direction I rarely ever traveled. For more reasons than one. Back in the day, ponies tended to avoid that way because of the fact that a lot of shady and illegal things tended to occur near that way. Drug trafficking, equicide, prostitution, things like that. I avoided going to this area of the city because I tended to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. I have, once, witnessed a murder happen right in front of an Ironshod Ammo Emporium Vendor. It was a simple murder. No threats, no prior warning. Pony walks up to the vendor, orders a few rounds of ammunition, another pony pulls out a gun, BANG! Dead before they realized the sudden change of events. There wasn't even enough time for the ponies brain to register what had happened.

Walking through the old place brought back that memory and I didn't very much like to have it there on the forefront of my mind now of all times. The gun I held in my wing didn't help get rid of the memory either as it was the same model gun that killed that poor mare on that day. It was a chilling thought, but one I have dealt with in the past and one that I shall deal with all the same.

Now that was made incredibly difficult incredibly quickly as something passed through my leg at nearly the same time as a muffled BANG entered my ears. That was soon accompanied by me falling to the snowy asphalt while clutching my rear leg, trying to hiss the pain away with a muttered,

"Bloody hell."

Not soon after, a few ponies trotted through the snow closer to where I lay in a small pool of the crimson fluid known only as blood. There were three of them and all but one were unicorns. The third was an earth pony. The two unicorns, both of whom were mares and had a colorization that made them possible twins, were brandishing firearms I knew only too well. One was a long barreled rifle, presumably the one that shot through my leg, and the other was a pristine AEP-3; A rechargeable plasma pistol very similar to the one my mother had stored in her purse for self protection. Though not the same color, it was the same model and everything. It was an EMG-Class Whinnychester Arms Plasma Gun. The earth pony stallion had a Battle Saddle on that had a IF-80 "Timberwolf" 12 gauge pump-action shotgun.

Now before you ask how I knew what a Battle Saddle was and was able to recognize it in such a time was the fact that my father who had worked on the production of those pieces of machinery alongside of the various models of Power Armor as a sort-of side project. He always preferred working on the Power Armor as it had more freedom to do bigger and better things but the Battle Saddle was necessary all the same. Several years before the end, he called me into his work to demonstrate the use of a Battle Saddle and prove that it was useful for all races, including pegasii. It was an interesting project to say the least and I helped him sell the idea of augmentation of it in order to make larger weapons able to work on it.

I was snapped out of my nostalgia by the unicorn with the rifle.

"Well oil me up and rut my ass! Look! Its a pegasus! Haven' seen one of them yet!"
"Hot damn I might take ya' up on that offer," the identical unicorn drawled with a seductive look at her... twin.
"Oh shut the fuck up you too. Save that shit for when we get him to the boss. She'll want to try him out first and you know that," the earth pony snorted, leveling the gun at my right wing.

I very nearly wet myself, but at the same time I found the three unbelievably horrid. The two mares were obviously incestuous while the stallion... smelled fucking terrible. I mean really bad. The smell wasn't the first thing I noticed but it was most defiantly the second. Still, thinking really hard about how putrid the stallion smelled was most certainly not going to solve my current dilemma.

Now... my mom knew a security pony back a year before day zero. Her name was Primer, I think. Anyway she told me about how to fight off a unicorn and an earth pony. She said that to get a unicorn to back off or recoil, go for her horn. As for the earth pony they don't like things hitting the side of their head. More specifically their temple. Hit them there and run for your life cuz they'll be pissed after that.

So with that in mind and the three distracted by their bickering, I slowly moved my left wing to grab any one of the tools that were clipped to my belt. It was the pointed metal scrapper. Just what I needed.

With an explosion of speed, I swung the pointed tool up in an arch towards the earth pony's head. The earth pony did catch my sudden attack however. Knowing exactly what I was going for, he twisted his body around and presented his armored hoof stopping the scrapper and getting it jammed into the flimsy made aluminum plate. I didn't stop there. Doing that would give him a chance to swing his shotgun around and turn my head into red soup. Snapping my wings backwards, I launched myself off the ground and wrapping my hooves around the small metal bit leading into his mouth and twisting it around. Doing so broke half the stallions brown teeth. But now I had the gun. Sure he still had it on his side, but I had the firing mechanism all to myself now rendering his gun useless.

The unicorn with the plasma pistol didn't waste any time. She aimed her gun and fired a barrage of condensed glowing blue plasma at the two us. The other with the rifle found herself unable to use it effectively with the lack of range. Instead she holstered it and pulled a similar pistol to her sister's but in a bit worse condition. Using my weight and momentum to spin the shotgunner around place him in the way of their shots. Within the span of twelve seconds, he was reduced to a giggling pile of semi-translucent goop. But his shotgun was just fine. With two yanks of my neck and two cones of buckshot, the two unicorns were reduced to twitching bloody heaps.

However, the one unicorn with the better plasma gun was somehow still alive. Blood was pooling around her head and heck, the shotgun round tearing half her face open.

"P-p-lease...," she croaked, "Help me..."

I stood over her body and just stared at her for a moment, by blue eyes boring into her soul. She was dead pure and simple. Nothing I had could save her.

Now I've heard of ponies sparing someone who tried to kill them. It was the subject of many radio stories and broadcasts that I enjoyed. The good guy sparing the bad guy and then maybe reforming them to the side of good.

BANG

The smoking 10mm pistol announced my answer as a hole opened up between her eyebrows just under her horn. I had no mercy to ones who kill. Who knows how many they have touched and scarred. They displayed a blatant disregard to a pony's life and I should not show anything but a bullet back. They chose the path of the wicked and it will always lead to death. Either from blood spilling from the left side of their face, or a bullet through the skull.

With the three dead, I holstered the pistol and crouched down to look at their stuff. The unicorn's pistol was the first thing I picked up. It was well maintained and cared for something that is as old as it is. An elegant weapon with a wood brown mouth grip, mat black steel slide, and pristine power generator mounted underneath gun. As standard to the AEP-3, with a press of a button, two small extension barrels opened up glowing with the blue light standard for the gun. With a small smile I disassembled the 10mm, took the trigger frame and firing mechanism, and tossed the rest to the side. Why have a pistol with limited ammo when you can have one with near unlimited ammo.

Other than that, the two unicorns had few things on them. Their armor was worthless. The only things they had of worth were a few bottles of water, some boxed food, and several shotgun rounds. Speaking of shotguns...

"Aw dammit."

I forget that transparent pony goop was quite acidic. Everything he had on him resembled melted wax including the shotgun. That included the spiked scrapper I attacked him with. Honestly I should've worried about him than the unicorns. Oh well.

The sun was setting now. I had to find somewhere to stay for the night because I would bet my life on the fact that it was going to get colder soon. Leaving the two bodies behind, I stepped into a small post office. The inside was quite empty, not a sign of life anywhere except for a few old ashtrays and empty Sparkle Cola bottles.

It was not anywhere near a 5 star hotel. It was more akin to a 1 star hotel. I should know, I've been in quite a few of those to fix the electrical workings in them before. The smell was even the same. Cigarette smoke, stale air, and spilled alcohol. The floors were all wet and moldy with age and the wall paper was peeling off. A chandelier once hung on the ceiling. Now it lay on the floor in a tangled mess of wires, brass, and incandescent light bulbs. I managed to salvage three working bulbs and about twelve feet of wire. Who knows what I could do with it. In the electrical business, "waste not want not" is the proper motto.

After gathering some semi dry wood and using the blowtorch, I had a small fire going in the room. It was nice and warm, a stark contrast to the hell that was outside.

And I mean that quite literally.

I once had a zebra friend before the war. Now I couldn't remember her name to save my damn life but she told me something that would stick to me to this day.

"Ponies believe is a place known as Tartarus," she once said, "The polar opposite to the Everafter where souls are locked in cages to waste away for all time. For us zebras, we believe in a place called Hell. Same premise but with multiple layers to it."

She then went on to explain the many circles of Hell. There were nine in total according to her. The first was a place called "Limbo". It was an in between of the Everafter and the other more horrible circles. It is where the souls of both pony and zebra alike wandered and waited for their final judgement. It was an illusion though. They were there to wander forever and become consumed with loneliness and despair.

The second was where the Lustful went. Forever to be battered and torn apart by the gale force winds of a violent, unending storm.

The third was Gluttony. Forever to feel the unrelenting icy rain that would tear open their skin and expose their wounds to the cold.

The fourth was Greed. Forever to be consumed by the very things they were greedy for in an infinite vat of molten gold along with the things they desired most.

The fifth was Anger. A battlefield whose stage is set in a dark swamp. There, an army of wailing souls rush themselves at the damned. Never resting and never yielding.

The sixth was Heresy. Now even today I have a hard time understanding the actions of a heretic. I imagine it was something to do with the crazy spouting out crazy things. I could be wrong though. Either way it was a sea of fire protected by Hell's Guards. Their purpose was to keep the heretics from escaping their torment.

The seventh Violence. Those who killed for the heck of it were to drown in a sea of blood. Soldiers were exempt from here apparently. She never explained how or why.

The eighth was Fraud. Those cast down to this circle were cast in a shadowy darkness to be eternally attacked and beaten by demons.

And finally there is Treachery. A creature whose name is lost to time is buried in a vast ocean of ice up to his waist. She said that anything can happen to you there up to and including being erased from the universe entirely.

I didn't give much thought about those circles for a time as war caught up and swept everyone in its fury-ridden grasp. But now that I think back to what she said, Treachery seams to fit Detrot quite well.

Shaking my head and banishing the thought from my mind, I rested my head on the ground next to the small fire and drifted off to sleep.

Footnote: LEVEL UP

New Perk: Moving Target

They can't hurt what they can't hit! Get 25+ Damage Resistance and 25+ Energy Resistance while sprinting, flying, or in mid-teleport.

Author's Note

Holy crap the last chapter I did was in April of last year?! I'm really bad at this.