I slept with faith and found a corpse in my arms on awakening; I drank and danced all night with doubt and found her a virgin in the morning.

Aleister Crowley

Endurance.

By the time I had only galloped some two hundred feet away from the entrance to the Stable, I had already gotten out of breath. My lungs were burning and my legs, after a few more seconds of galloping, just gave out from beneath me.

Fuck you, Stable-Tec! You should've made some exercise rooms! I knew there wasn't any point in thinking this, especially since nopony, except for the Goddesses, could read minds.

I was too exhausted to do anything. I was exhausted both physically and emotionally. I decided to just lay on the ground for a moment just to regain some stamina. Stopping for a second gave me a chance to get my bearings. Looking around, I could see that the entrance to the Stable was built upon the top of a hill (weren't going for inconspicuous were they?). I could also see that the entrance itself was built into a mountainous cliffside that overlooked the entirety of the northern half of the island. Leading away from the giant gear-shaped door of Stable 68 was a narrow pathway that wound its way down the hillside and into the town of Trottingham. On the path, the hoofprints of the metal soldiers who had ruthlessly slaughtered their way into the Stable were clearly visible.

Not only was the world of the Wastes clearly destroyed (and definitely not coming back!) by the balefire bombs that the zebras had dropped on Equestria some 200 years ago, but the land seemed to ooze sadness. A sadness that just couldn't be made by anything short of a megaspell detonation. The sky seemed to be covered by endless clouds that gave off a disgusting yellowish glow.

Looking closer at my surroundings, I could see that ponies' bodies and skeletons were everywhere! The amount of death that surrounded me was sickening. I could see a small foal's park to my right. In the park, there was a seesaw that two little skeletons we're playing of. Nearby, the larger body of what I assume was one of the parents sat watching over the scene. The eeriness of the morbid scene weighed down on me.

This family didn't even know that their lives were about to end. Just like . . .

I paused. It occurred to me that the scene was similar to how nopony inside the Stable knew what was about to happen. Families at birthday parties, lovers out for a stroll around the corridors alone together, not a single one of them knew that they would be mercilessly slaughtered in just minutes. I could feel the little pony in my head slowly crank down the precious wall that had been holding back the emotions that the world around me had built up so quickly. I shut my eyes and just broke out into sporadic sobs.

This flood of emotion was so strong, that I hardly noticed the small, blue ball stick itself into my chest. It hurt more than most small fluffy balls usually would so I took a double take (try saying that ten times fast).

“Oh, fuck.”

Then, the world around me went black.

I woke up looking at nothing but the ceiling of some room I didn't recognize. It was a chilly, dull-grey-coloured room. Lights on the ceiling were broken (probably for a really long time). I had no idea where in the world I was. I rushed to sit up only to realize that I was tied to the bed I woke up on. Fat, leather restraints around my wrists and ankles. There was definitely no chance of my small, weak hooves breaking through them. I screamed out for help, but all I heard was slow hoofsteps coming closer to me. I was trapped.

Oh no, oh no, oh no! NO NO NO! FUCK!

The pony that had created the hoofsteps I heard only seconds before now stood above me, smiling maniacally. In the fog of just waking up from being tranquilized, I couldn't make out the details of the earth pony mare that was hovering over me, but I could see she wearing scrubs over her chartreuse body. The contrast between her and the room only made it seem even more dismal than it already was.

"You may just want to calm down; hyperventilating does not speed up surgical operations," she said to me in a strangely calm and seductive voice. I saw her grab a bone saw with her teeth and lower it to my stomach.

"Wait, what?!?! Where am I?!" I screamed, "Somepony! Anypony! HELP!!!!"

Suddenly, the sound of splintering wood echoed everywhere in the room. Adding to the deafening roar, the sound of rapid hoofsteps and gunfire entered the room. I heard a pause and saw the eyes of the "nurse" grow wide right before a deafening "BANG!". The nurse's head disappeared in a gory display of flying pony brains.

"Please don't kill me!! I'm sorry I started screaming, just please don't kill me!" I pleaded with somepony I couldn't see.

A pastel-grey coloured unicorn stallion trotted over to the surgical table I was restrained to. He looked down at me with a reassuring smile.

"Why would I want to kill the mare I broke into this place to save, huh?" he asked in a confident, but cool manner.

"I-I don't know," I replied, confused by the gentility of what the stallion that now stood above me said, "I guessed I thought you were like one of those horrible, robotic ponies that invaded my home."

Those last words hurt me to say. It reminded me of just exactly where I was and why. It reminded me of the pit of death that the Stable had been reduced to. I had now realised that, the best way to get rid of a post-tranquilizer-dart hangover is to think about something really, really sad.

"Steel Rangers," he said solemnly.

"What, exactly, are the Steel Rangers?" I asked. His horn glowed as he removed the restraints that had kept me to the table.

"They are the group that brought about the destruction of Stable 68," he explained, "They are a militaristic group of ponies that, 'reclaim the technologies of Equestria to bring about a new dawn in their wake!' Bunch of psychotic flank-fucks if you ask me . . ."

Language! I heard my dad's voice chide in my head.

That explained one thing. "But you still haven't explained why I'm here, or why you know I'm here!" I nickered back at him after sitting up and hopping off the table onto the floor beside him. This random stallion barges in and saves my life, acts so nonchalant about it, and I don't get a reason why? Nope! Ain't happening pegasister!

By now, my vision had mostly cleared, and I could see the full-grown unicorn standing next to me. He was tall, pastel grey with a brown mane. His cutie mark was in the shape of a syringe. He was looking at me in a sad, weary way. It was if his face screamed, “I have seen all of the worst shit there is to see! Yippee!”

"Well," he began, continuing to answer my question, "I saw you escape the Stable that they had just launched an attack on and I took an interest in seeing what you would do after being exposed to the Wasteland. Now usually, I wouldn't rescue a pegasus, but you're a stable-dweller, you don't know why the pegasi are so loathed out here. You shouldn't be made to suffer the consequences of those who came before you, whom you have no relation to."

He continued, "After I saw you collapse in the middle of the trail that led to Trottingham," he explained, "I knew that I couldn't just let the raider pony who kidnapped you kill you! You seemed . . .” He paused, “It's just not easy to survive by yourself in the Wastes!"

These words were not exactly reassuring, but they did help me feel safer. He did seem . . . odd talking to me, though. But, I knew that I needed somepony's help to get me up and on my hooves. Somepony to prepare me for the things that I would see, and the trials I would face. I knew then and there that, if anypony could help me, it would be this stallion before me. I could hear the sincerity in his voice. He definitely wanted to help, although maybe reluctantly.

"I believe you," I said reassuringly, "But first, we should try to get out of here and to someplace that doesn't have insane ponies that are just waiting for the chance to dissect you!"

"Sounds like a good plan to me! What should I call you Miss . . ."

"Rae Starlight," I said as I extended my hoof in his direction.

He paused, “Your name's Rae Starlight? Like, a ray of starlight? Huh.” He chuckled softly, accepted my hoof and said, "Greyhorn Elixir. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I'll guess that I should warn you now, I sing. A lot," I added.

"I could guess," he said, shooting a glance at my cutie mark, "but if it's your cutie mark, then you must sing well . . ."

"You don't look like somepony who's used one of these before," Greyhorn said while tossing the pistol he used to blow away (literally) the nurse that had tried to make me her test subject. The way I jumped as it hit the ground at my feet proved his suspicions right.

We had stopped along the side of a road that led away from Trottingham. Greyhorn had lined up a few old "Sparkle~Cola" bottles along a fence that was to the right of the road. The road itself was in severe disrepair and was horribly sun-bleached, but it was still solid enough to serve as an easy pathway for our hooves to follow.

I tentatively took the pistol in-between my teeth. The sensation of the cold hard surface of the trigger planted firmly against my teeth felt extremely foreign to me. It was awkward for a second, but after a bit of adjustment, it felt mildly comfortable.

"Huat boo ahy boo?" I tried to ask with the pistol in my mouth.

Greyhorn, trying to keep from laughing, said that, "You really just aim and shoot. All you need to practice for is accuracy. Although, for you, you'll also have to get used to the kickback. You'll have to know how to aim if you want to survive out here."

"Huell buh . . ." I said, still muffled by the gun in my mouth.

I did my best to aim at one of the bottles, then I bit down on the trigger. The deafening bang of the gun so much closer to my ears now, it made it feel like they would start bleeding at any second. The sudden and unexpected amount of recoil from the gun caught me off guard to the extent that I dropped it out of surprise.

Obviously, I missed.

Greyhorn burst out into hysterical laughter.

"Hey! It's my first time okay?!" I chided.

"Sorry . . . thanks, kid. I haven't seen anything that funny in a long time," he said, "Well we'll practice for about 20 minutes then we need to head for the train station. It's the only way off of this Celestia-forsaken island, so we should try to find a working train as quick as possible. If we can't find one, we'll have to fix one."

"But my family! We can't just leave them!" I argued.

"Rae, if you want any chance of helping anypony who could still be holed up in there, you'll need better weapons. You'll find those on the main Equestrian Wasteland."

"Fun . . ." I said picking up the gun again.

"Okay," he said coming closer, "So you should try aim a bit more to the left. You being right-hooved makes the kickback tend to swing to that side."

"Mhm."

"Three, two, one . . ."

BANG!

🎵 . . . The next day I thought my hooves had broken, 🎵

I thought my muzzle had burst into flames,

But still, she is in my thoughts.

I think of how it all changed,

On that evening,

That lonely Sunday evening.

As I brought the song to a close, he looked at me, his jaw nearly on the ground.

"Y-y-you wrote that?" he eventually stammered out.

"Yeah," I said, nonchalantly, "What? You don't like it?"

"No," he said sternly, catching me off guard, "I . . . LOVED IT!!!"

I giggled. Greyhorn was really loveable. Not in any romantic sort of sense (not that my Stable door even swings that way), but in the way you would a great friend.

It had been about half an hour since we left the side of the road where he had shown me how to shoot, and even though we couldn't practice long (for fear somepony, or something, might hear the roar of gunfire coming from our makeshift practice range), the few shots I had fired left my jaw sore. At least it didn't impede upon my singing.

"Look out!" Greyhorn screamed.

I stopped dead in my tracks because a flock of giant, bloated insects had flown directly in front of us. These weird creatures' bodies were oozing some disgusting and nasty green liquid that would sizzle whenever a drop would hit the ground. They looked kinda' like a common sprite (like the ones I had seen in textbooks growing up) but they were horribly mutated into some twisted version of its former self.

"What are THOSE THINGS?!?!" I screamed.

"They're just bloatsprites, don't worry. Just use the pistol and shoot them," Greyhorn suggested.

I pulled out the pistol and another loud bang echoed throughout the Wasteland. Then another. One by one, they all fell to the ground. With Greyhorn and I standing flank-to-flank, we took out all of the twenty or so "bloatsprites" within about two to three minutes. I let out a sigh as the last one fell to the ground.

"Be on the lookout for more of those," Greyhorn said.

"Fine. But know, I might leave you behind if we get to the train and those things are there," I said jokingly.

Honestly, him telling me to be on the lookout wasn’t reassuring. I’d personally rather that I didn’t see any more of those things. Just another one of the wonders of the Wasteland. Whoop-ee!

Up ahead in the distance, we saw the train station. The station was nestled along the coast of the island. There was a track along the left side of the building, and, to our delight, it had a somewhat okay-looking train engine sitting atop it. The track leading towards the interior of the island ended soon after it came onto the ground, but the other half that led towards the Maneland continued over the water on a bridge. On the porch that surrounded the outside of the building, stood a bunch of ponies with machine guns. Our hopes were pretty much murdered, but not all was lost yet.

There was one feature of the PipBuck that I don't believe I mentioned. It has one feature that's called S.A.T.S. (Stable-Tec Assisted Targeting Spell) and the pony wearing the device can use it mid-combat to assist them in targeting an enemy. This made it to where I wouldn't have to be the best shot at the moment (which was good, since I wasn't). Greyhorn could “flank” (as he said,) the right side of the station from behind the train, and I would give him a signal to tell him that we should start attacking the enemy. I could then use S.A.T.S. to wipe out any of the guards blocking my side of the station while he did his.

I approached the cottage that made up the station and then paused. I looked to where Greyhorn was behind the train and made a gesture with my hoof signalling to him to start flanking. I slipped into S.A.T.S. and took out the four guards on my side of the station. I didn’t feel bad doing this since, well, I had almost been dissected!

Right after, there were three shots that echoed from Greyhorn's side. We both met up on the porch and entered the station. The inside of the station was one room that had once been painted beige but was now only a sad, dead version of the room it had once been.

"Hey," whispered a voice from inside of a cage that was in the corner of the room. Inside was a younger-looking mare. She seemed about my age, if not a few years older.

"Could you get me out of here? Please?" she asked.

"Absolutely! But, who are you exactly?" I asked.

"Reyna Cloverfield," was her reply.

Author's Note

Wow.

Two chapters down in one day! That is going to be it for today's uploads, but I will get to work on the next chapter now.

So, we have a new challenger enter the arena! Will she turn out to be a friend? Or Rae's next worst foe? Find out in the next chapter of Fallout Equestria: A Song of Hope!

Up Next:

Chapter Two: Reyna Cloverfield

Edit log: I rewrote this on 2/15/18. Needed to slow down the pacing and really get a feel for being a bit more descriptive of settings and characters in my writing. I will rewrite chapter two tomorrow.

Edit Log #2: This is the second rewrite that I have made so far. This one was finished 3/3/18.

Reyna Cloverfield belongs to her rightful owner. Any use without permission will be dealt with as seen fit.
All Rights Reserved, Nitirix, 2018
All Rights Reserved, Vitobru, 2018