Fallout Equestria: Oasis 99

by oatmeal155

Rating: mature
Tags: Science Fiction, Suicide / Self Harm, Profanity, Adventure, Violence, Crossover, Death, Fallout, Narcotics, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 12550

A stallion with no name or memory goes on journey to reclaim his lost memories as warring faction fight for control over the Shifting Waste.

Far south from Equestria proper across the bleak desert lies the jewel of the sand, a city once known as Oasis. In height of the pony achievement, it was erected to show pony dominance in South. A resort city bustling with latest of arcane technology, second to Hoofington. it still stands despite being consumed by balefire riped with prewar tech and arcane secrets. now that world is a wasteland, its survivors are fighting for control over the city as a stallion with 99 branded on his neck seek his lost memories.

Published 2018-04-16 15:20:11 UTC
Last updated 2018-07-17 20:37:51 UTC

prologue

Smooth jazz fills the dimly lit lounge as the neon sign that hangs above the bar hums hypnotic buzz. Cider jacks it said, an alcoholic apple cider. It's quite known for being popular among ponies. Under normal circumstances, it would have been the top choice of drink. Today isn't that day; nor is this the normal crowd that the lounge would entertain. Unlike the other times, this lounge is currently catering to one.

A solitary stallion sat at the bar, tapping his hoof to the music while levitating a glass of red wine. He considered himself very fortunate that he managed to book the lounge for tonight. For tonight was the night that he had been preparing for. One last night that he can enjoy. For him … and for her. He dug into waistcoat pocket, pulling out a silver pocket watch emblazon with apple outline with a sword through it. The Ministry of Wartime technology. A gift from his old employer.

She had asked him to return Equestria proper and she even offered him a place within one of those Stables. he considered it; But no, he would see this through to the end. He wonders if anypony is in there now, huddled together in the darkness, clinging to the faintest of hope they might survive. Might see Celestia’s radiant Sun once again. Is there any pony left in this city? Maybe it's just Scarlet Jewel and him.

A stray bullet hits the outside wall of the lounge; he was so absorbed in the atmosphere of the lounge that he forgot about them. Vermin. Cockroach. Completely unaware of the war between zebras and ponies; simply defiling his great creation as revenge for their long-deceased king. He leaped from his seat at the bar and move towards the uncovered window, looking out to a sea of skyscrapers. Banners displaying a symbol that once brew fear, now meaningless memento hangs from his once beautiful buildings as proof of their domination. Through it can't be considered domination if it was given. Let them ransack, let them pillage, let them murder the unfortunate lesser species that were too poor to pay for the Stables; because in the end none of it matters. In few moments the palette will be cleansed and the world starts anew.

Those thoughts immediately left his head as the buzz of elevator fills the room and It's doors rattle open revealing a crimson haired mare. Her coat white as snow and her eyes burn of scarlet. As soon she saw the unicorn stallion by the window, she trotted over to him. With a grin, the stallion set his drink down on a nearby table and wraps his hooves around the mare. She let out a content sigh as she nuzzles his chest. She eyed the window to the city, reflecting on its short-lived glory.

“it's shame.” She said in a whisper as the music change to something a bit more upbeat. A simile crawled across her muzzle. She steps away from the stallion and begins to sway with the music. For the moment he watches as her swaying becomes a dance. Resembling a flickering candle as she moved. The mare stops her dancing to flash a beckoning simile at the stallion.
“come on Red,” she said offering her hoof. He accepts it as they stood on their hind legs and began to methodically step in-rhythm.

they looked into each other's eyes as time falls still. For that moment nothing mattered.
Not taxes.
Not work.
No personal responsibilities.
No marauding vermin.
Not even the megaspell as it erupts in the center of the city.
Not the Technicolor mushroom cloud that formed in its wake.
No, it didn't matter to them because even if the world is consumed by balefire
They'll remain
If their body faded to ash
They'll remain
He made sure of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Far south from Equestria proper across the bleak desert lies the jewel of the sand, a city once known as Oasis. In height of the pony achievement, it was erected to show pony dominance in South. A resort city bustling with latest of arcane technology. That was before the war. Before the war of resources. Before the war between ponies and zebras, it was a spectacle but during the war, it was an escape. Ponies flocked there in droves to escape the cruel reality of war as their brother and sister fought and die to uphold their pony way of life. Inevitably the illusion ended when megaspells descended from the heavens and consumed the land in balefire. For the fortunate few they manage to survive in underground stables with the hopes that one day they can walk on the surface again and not repeat mistakes of their forefathers.
Be better than them.
be what ponies should be.
Unfortunately...

War. War never changes.

Rising from their underground shelter, they becoming upon a hellscape of own making. Limited supplies and resource forces the ponies abandoned their values in order to survive, while others desperately cling to it. Forming communities. Becoming bandits and raiders. Leading to some taking advantage of this cruel and lawless new world.

Klugetown is now the capital of a fledgling empire, the Maximus Dynasty with their God Emperor Maximus and his golden militia. He steadily takes control of the Badlands, enslaving all who won't bend the knee.

Those slaves that manage escaped Maximus raign fled across Litterbox Ridge into a country once known as Abyssinia, where they formed the Broken Chain. A slowly growing army to rival the golden militia. despite their noble goal of the ending Maximus parade of terror, they not above forcing others into their war.

As the two prepare for war; just underneath their hooves beneath the desert sand lies a dark secret waiting to be unearthed. And whoever uncovers it holds the fates of the Shifting Waste in their hooves.

And among a mass grave of iron lies you.
Unconscious and unaware within your iron casket.
Awaking to the hellish desert before you with branded “99” on your neck.

Author's Note

This is my first attempt at writing a fic so it will most likely be bad. any feedback will help.

Chapter 1: Ain't That A Kick In The Head

“thousands of miles from the Equestrian Heartland, across the barren Badlands, and past the untamed forbidden jungle lies a nearly unending stretch of sand once known as Bone Dry Desert, but now thanks to the Great War it's known by a new name, The Shifting Waste.”

~the wasteland survival guide 3rd edition

“Beyond Equestria”

Introduction to The Shifting Waste

~Author unknown

I awoke to a numbing blackness cascading my entire body. It felt limp and lifeless like it wasn't my own. I tried to open my eyes, but they fought against me as if they were being held down by… something. The more I tried to force them open, the more I realize my whole body was numb. Eventually, my eyes broke free from whatever glue them shut. Bits and pieces of whatever it was fell into my now open eye, causing them to tear. For a moment I wasn't sure if I even manage to open them, it was just as dark as when I had them shut.
I smell something…
something metallic …
Like iron.

That's when I notice something wet moving along down the left side of my face passing my left eye and landed on my muzzle. A flash of images pops into my head. I just became painfully aware of my throbbing head. I was bleeding. Why was I bleeding? How long have I been bleeding? My head was swarming with different thoughts. Different questions. I tried to remember how I got here and that led to me trying to remember who I am. But nothing came, I couldn't remember anything. Not who I was, not where I was, not why I was here. The more I tried to think, the more my headaches. Sweet Celestia, what the fuck is going on?

I tried to move my hoof to massage my head but as soon as I try to another realization came to me; the numbing blackness that was surrounding me wasn't figuratively surrounding me. It was literal. I tried to move my hind legs to only achieve the same result. I was trapped. I was encased. I tried to move as hard as I can using all my strength, unfortunately, I had none, my body was tired. weak. My body was encased in something that prevents me from moving. The inactivity causing my joints to be numb and ache to move. How long was I like this? FUCK! If only I can remember. I became more and more aware of my situation. My heart starts beating rapidly as my breathing grow heavy. Was I going to die? Trapped in Celestia knows what?

“ woo ain't she a Beaut!” voice of a stallion cause my ears to twitch I wasn't alone there was somepony else. Another different sounding voice flooded my ears.

“ that's some nice looking power armor right there.” holy shit! I'm saved! I felt something pull at my chest. My tomb began to raise drooping my legs behind me. I was in the air.

“this one is still intact. how much you think the baron will pay for it?” The first stallion asked. The second one was grunting and had a labored breath.

“no clue but I reckon that this fine suit here is going to be worth a lot of caps” he grunted. They didn't know I'm in here. I gotta let them know! I open my mouth to speak but to have no word come out. My throat still painfully dried like it hadn’t known water for eons. I tried to speak again only to have a mumble escape my lips. Gods, what I would kill for a drink. I can't give up now, I'm so close to freedom. I swallowed any spit I can muster and let out a soft

“hey”
I stopped moving the air a sound of shuffling hoof steps caught my attention. They heard me!

“you hear that?” the first one inquired.

“I heard something.” said the second one which I assumed was a unicorn and was levitating the power armor I was trapped in.

I let out another hey but a bit louder this time. As soon as a word pass my lips I crash back into the ground. I let out a small grunt of pain.

“sweet Luna’s arsehole! Somepony in there!” the possible unicorn gasped.

“h...help” I meekly said. I felt the darkness around my chest pressed against into me.

“whoa, you alright?” the first stallion question. As I tried to say something my dried-up throat close up only letting a grunt out.

“Ah hell. It seems the spell matrix was disabled. If we're gonna get him out, we gonna need to cut him out.”I really don't like the sound of that. “Grab the auto-axe!” what? HELL NO! I tried to scream my protest, but it was in vain. only grunts and coughs came out. Images of a spinning blade ripping open my chest as my blood and entrails sprayed out into the open air. But as soon that thought crept into my head I realized something. I knew what an auto-axe was. I couldn't remember my own name but I knew what an auto-axe was. How they looked, the smell, and the sparks hitting my muzzle as it shreds through metal. I felt familiarity with it. I don't think that's how amnesia was supposed to work. But on the other hoof, I could be wrong with my self-diagnose.

“You’ll ruin the armor!” the first stallion yelled at the possible unicorn. I let out a sigh of relief, which ended up more like a wheeze.

“SWEET FUCKING ASS! Whats taking so long!” a distant third voice yelled this one sounding feminine.

“We have some poor fuck trapped in this here armor!” the one that I assume was a unicorn yelled back. “I was going use auto-ax-”

“THE FUCK YOU NOT!” the third voice cut off the maybe unicorn; the voice sounding less distant. The female sounded gravelly and older the stallions around me and my iron casket. “I'm not having you fucks ruin this perfectly intact armor! Any idea what the Baron would pay for this!

“But how the hell are we going to open it! I damn sure know the Baron doesn't want the pony inside!” yeah! Get me out of here! “Well he might.” come again.

“That's the reason why I’m here.” the female said as I hear a hoof hitting some glass in her direction. “Idiots!” from the sound of her voice she was right above me. And... nothing. I just lay there waiting for something. It was silent aside from hoof taps on glass and my heart beating, the other two ponies don't say anything. After while I tried to say something again, but before the words can even leave my mouth, a burst hot air and a blinding light hit me as the tenseness around my body disappear. I shut my eyes in futile attempt to shield them from the scorching light. I let out a gasp as the hot air filled my lungs. Moving my hooves out of their iron sleeves trying to reach out in front of me. The encasement in front of my chest and around was gone. I was free! My stretched hooves let out a sound of pop and crack. I try to grab on to something in front of me in hopes as using it as support as I try to free my hind legs from their unmoving imprisonment but as soon as I lean forward I felt a tung on my mane. I felt my mane getting yanked as I was throw out of my former tomb. I landed first head into something gritty. salty and bitter filled my dehydrated mouth. I spat and cough the foreign substance out of my mouth. Sand. it was sand. Ain't amnesia suppose to make me clueless about everything? pushing myself on to my butt, I tried to open my eyes. Burning rays hit them causing them to close again. My head acne getting worse. Remembering my original goal I started massaging my sore head with hoof but stop.I felt something. Something wet. With my now wet hoof brought it to my face. I open my eyes slightly looking down at my hoof; my vision was still blurred. All I see was a piss-stained blur with reddish blur in that. I had to squint my eyes to force on where I know my hoof was at. Eventually, my vision clearer as the piss-stained blur become my dirt matted piss-stained color hoof. I was kinda hoping my coat was a different color. It seriously looks like dried piss. I probably have more important thing to worry about right but I couldn't get over my ugly coat. Oh! And the dried-up blood on it too. BLOOD! My eyes zeroed in on the red fluid on my hoof.
it's blood.
Yep, definitely blood.
Is it my blood?
Yep definitely my blood.

Remembering that I figure that out a little bit ago back in the… power armor? Was I in power armor? Why was I in power armor? Feeling familiarity wash over. Was I hit with EMP? That would explain the disable spell matrix.
“Ugh” I put emphasis the GH. When I got back to messaging my throbbing head I found a small gash right above my left eye leading to the top of my head. Blood was dried up. I should really get this check at.
A cough behind me remind I wasn't alone. Three ponies did help to save me, I gotta thank them. I turn thank my savior and -

CRACK!

an explosion of pain came across my muzzle as it collides with a rifle’s butt. My face hit the sandy floor. “The fuck?” I manage to murmur despite the mouth full of sand and blood. Before I could even get up I was bucked from the side and sent flying. Coughing up sand, blood, and what little I had in my stomach. One of my “savior” let out a chuckle till it was overshadowed by a sound of the female voice yelling.

“Come on! Stop playing around and let's get out!” far off a sound of engine roared into life. “The storm is coming!” I could barely hear a faint clicking as it was muffled by the thundering engine. my ears twitch.

“What we gonna do about him?” I couldn’t tell which one of the two stallions said that anymore. my brain felt like it was being pulverized by a legion of tap dancers and not particularly good ones either.

“Don't waste the bullet! Let the storm have him!” the wind join the roaring engine with a howl. I force myself up despite the pain and I try to look toward my attackers/saviors but it was too bright. Shit! Why they even free me if they were just going to kill me. Probably didn't want my blood to ruin my power armor paint job. Was it my power armor? right? Forcing my eyes open a little just to get assaulted by another wave of hot air and sand. FUCK! Why the face?! Vigorously rubbing my eye with my hoof; which didn't help much since my hoof was coated with dirt. coughing out what sand blow into my mouth. Finally, I open my eyes to a world of smudge and blurred. Slowly the world straightens out and clear. I watch as a cloud of dust gradually got smaller and smaller. Into the distance. Into the desert. I felt burning sensation. For some reason, it thought it was sunlight, but looking up to only a blanket grey cloud mix with green.
Radiation.

Long ago pegasi used to manage the weather. But when balefire hit they seal the land with to protect themselves.

“Heh” I could remember history but not my own fuckin name. I think those were my “saviors”; looking back at the cloud of dust as disappear at the horizon. The sound of engine fading, to be replaced by a crackling. Fire. then the smell. I nearly gagged. Burnt hair. The smell was overpowering. I look around to find the source to realize… I sitting on my plot in the middle of an aftermath. A battle. Iron goliath scatters haphazardly over the bloody sandy landscape. Some missing limbs, some having the metal warped melting away. Revealing a bloody soft pony inside. Some out of power armor. Their technicolor bodies bent in ways nobody should ever be bent. Scraps strew about. Some poor soul had their armor engulfed in flames; hopefully, they die before the fire. Imaging a can of bean on an open fire… for some reason.

The fuck happened here?. Sign of battle. Scorch mark litter the ground. Getting up on my hooves, I carefully move to one the fallen metal armored giants. the upper left corner of its helmet was burst open in blossom of jagged metal and blood. The insides of the ruined armor were a mess of bone fragments, red pulp, and strains light blue mane. What could've done this? Something on the corpse shoulder pad catches my attendance. A symbol. Looks like an apple with a winged sword in front it. Oh and gears with stars within the apple. image s flash within my head; images of magically energy weapons, bulky armor, and the words “elitist pricks” keeps popping up. Remnants of pre-war age; The Steel Raide- I mean Rangers. Hoarding arcane technology from us primate tribals. I really didn't have any positive thoughts, maybe in my forgotten past, I had some a bad run in with them. But seeing them like this.

Sweet Celestia, what happened here? I noticed that not all of the armored corpses were Steel Rangers, some of them were white opposed to the Steel Rangers gray. Like painted sterile white which looks odd with the desert landscape. It looks too clean. Well besides the blood and scorch marks. Their design looks curvier compared to the Steel Rangers, more rounder. They had strange symbol unlike the Steel Rangers I recognize it. A red crescent moon-like thing with red comet thing flying into it. It kinda looks ominous the white paint. I'm assuming there was a battle between the Steel Raide- I mean Rangers and the red crescents bulbous troop and somehow I was involved. Dammit! I didn't even get look at the armor I was in before it was stolen from me. Fuck! Why was I here? My head was still kicking and getting a mouthful of a rifle's butt didn't help either. Maybe somepony drop something, I scanned armored graveyard. From a few unobscured bodies, this battle was recent. Was I the only survivor? I looked around the desert ground for anything, anything useful. A bit and piece of a destroyed magically energy pistol sprinkled the wartorn sand. I’m not entirely sure if I could even fix them and I had nothing to carry them either. I notice a body of a mare with a jacket that had the red crescent thing on its back in a pool of her own blood. Her probably once white jacket was a lite pink as well as her green coat. From what you can tell she was an earth pony. Her lower half was pin down by a massive… boat? An airship with deflated balloon draping most of it had crashed right on top of the mare’s hind legs. well more like landed I guess since the minimal impact area. The bow was buried in the sand as smoke and embers blow out of its windows. I trotted over the pinned, her glossy look into the sky with a horrifying expression on her face as a trail of viscera came from her mouth. If I had anything in my stomach right now I'll be vomiting. I tried not to look at her exposed... guts as I searched through the pocket of her jacket. This is messed up.

“...sorry” I manage to say through my sore dehydrated throat.
And… a 9mm pistol!

It was in its holster on the poor mare right leg. I gently remove it and strapped to my right leg. I clenched my jaw on the mouth grip and upholstered it. like was second nature I flick the magazine release and check on the ammo. Only 9 bullets, must have fired only 4. With a flick of my head, the mag was back in the gun and holster it. I felt very comfortable now that I have a gun. Which is weird since I'm still in a mass grave with no memory of who or what am I doing here.
But hey, I got gun!
Hold up!

There was something else on her neck! Something carved into it. Not recent looks like it were done a long time ago. A scar. It was a number 33. Why did she have a 33 curved into her neck? I turn to one of the power armored red crescents who had a hole as big as my hoof through his chest and gallops to him. Removing the bulbous helmet to reveal a light blue unicorn with his horn filed down just so the helmet could fit. Trails of blood from mouth drip into his suit. His purple mane clang to the blood splotches around his muzzle. I check his neck.
56
I move to the next red crescent corpse.
72

Each one of the red crescent bodies had a number branded on their necks; from 04 to 82. Why? Some right of passage? Some gang initiation? I even checked the steel rangers bodies and only the unknown red crescent soldier had it. Each one has a different number. Suddenly I caught something moving from of the corner of my eye. Leaping backward and readying myself for… my reflection. A piss-stained colored stallion with a messy dark green mane looking back at me from a strange shard of black glass. It looks out of place amidst the wreckage. Cleaner. Was this always here? How come I didn't notice it? I try to found where it could have come from. Maybe from the wrecked airship. Is that humming? I look into the glass as my reflection looks back into me. it was weird like seeing myself for the first time. I looked horrible, I had bags under my yellow eyes and an unkempt patch of hair under my chin. I didn’t really notice it but I was wearing a jacket. A white jacket…
I looked tired, hell I feel tired. I could see the dried up blood above my left eye and the…
I immediately reached my hoof to my neck and felt it than on flank. The scar on my coat; I traced it.
Looking back at my reflection; I saw it.
Instead of cutie marks on my flank, I had a black scar and
branded on my neck was the number
99.

Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Gun Nut-- +5 [Firearms or Battle Saddles, Mechanics] per rank.
You feel oddly comfortable with a gun in your mouth.
Perhaps it's a spark from your old self

Chapter 2: Low Desert

“Tired of the hustle and bustle of the heartland? Want some peace and quiet? Well Come down and see our exotic shifting sandy hills, vast landscape, and our soothing atmosphere! Take a dip in our luxurious natural cleansing pools. Meet our exotic wildlife. ”

~travelhoof issue 32

“Bone Dry Desert”

A cutie mark represents what makes you special. What makes you unique. What separates you from the others. Your talent. Gives you a rough idea what you're gonna be doing for the rest of your life. You know that some ponies change their name to match their mark. Others had parents that had some bizarre forethought to name their foals something close to what to their cutie marks will ultimately turn out to be. I wonder if I was the former or latter when it comes to that. I guess I could say the same about memories. Both in which I lack. maybe if I were more eloquent I could construct a deeper meaning from that or use a good metaphor.

But hey at least I wasn't a Steel Ranger. Though I guess whoever the red crescent soldiers were, it couldn't be much better. Cause I'm pretty sure I wouldn’t willingly let somepony flay my ass. Don't take that out of context. Lost my name, my memories, and been giving a number. Somepony trying to scrub my identity away?
jeez
My head hurts.
I wonder if I was close to any of these dead ponies. Did the me from before the amnesia felt anything towards them? Did he felt sad about their death? Is it healthy to refer to pre-amnesia me as a different pony? Sadly I didn’t feel much about them as I looted from their still fresh corpse. Which wasn’t very much, I’m assuming the scavengers who took my armor picked anything that was useful. All I manage to scrounge up was an empty canteen cause somepony up there hates me and my still very dehydrated throat. Also, I gathered up some of the loose pieces from the broken MEWs (magical energy weapon) that scatter the sandy waste. maybe when I'm out of this desert, I’ll try to fix them but until then I’ll use one of the dead red crescent soldier’s jacket as a makeshift bag to hold them. And lastly a holotape player with a holotape in it. One of the Steel Ranger scribes had it. Though why a scribe will be here and not in one of their hidey holes is beyond me. The rest of the Steel Ranger were duked out in their power armor so I'm assuming they expected heavy resistance, so why bring a glorified bookkeeper?

Not really taking a liking to the smell of burning bodies and thinking I've been here long enough, I venture out into the desert. Following the trail the scavengers left. In the hopes it leads to some form of civilization. Maybe I could get a clue about my situation by taking a look at my power armor. The Red Crescent ponies don't have anything on that say who they are or why they were out here. So that's pretty much my best bet. Maybe my armor has an onboard navigation system and that could point me to where its originally from, at least I think that it could do that. My head still really hurts. The track resembles chariot tracks but I couldn’t see the tracks of the pony pulling it, just horizontal lines in parallel. as I gallop along the trail I decided to listen to the holotape picked from the scribe. A label on it said Operation Desert Rose.
“Oh, what a lovely name!” I snark to myself. Hitting play on the player a voice statics in.
“this is elder Daring Rubbed of the Bemoaning contingent” Daring Rubbed? What unfortunate name. Wait did she said Bemoaning contingent? Where the hell is Bemoaning? “Reports have been coming in detailing a heavily armed group being seen around the Shifting Waste and Oasis Ruins.” an elder mare sounding voice spoke through the holotape player’s speaker. Must be talking about the red crescent troops and to a lesser extent me. “Scouts claims that this group was equipped with power armor that we hadn’t seen before. So far their intent is unknown and they don’t interact with the local tribals. Located these targets and found out how they came in possession of these equipment.” I guess from how that little meeting ended they didn’t ask nicely. From how both sides are currently dead excluding me I guess you can say they were evenly matched, unless there's a third party that didn’t leave a trace. Sweet Celestia how’d did I get mixed in this? Who the fuck was I? And why didn’t any pony bring a canteen that was full with water!? And what the fuck is an Oasis?! I could hear the wind behind me.

“Oh sweet Celestia’s puckered anus!” how long have I been walking? Couldn’t have been long, right? I mean the sun still up. Well, I can't see the sun past the clouds, but I feel it. Oh yeah definitely feel it. My scabby flank is cooking under this heat. And thanks to the fuckin wind the trail was blown away and now it just looks like the rest of the desert. And here I am just trotting straight in hopes that they didn’t turn or anything. Well at least I don’t feel the possible broken nose anymore, nah now all I feel was the pain that course over my whole body. Each step I take sends a jolt of pain up through my legs. I was tired, thirsty, and my hooves were killing me.
Oh yeah did I mention my head hurts?

For miles, all I could see were sandy dunes. Oh, also the column of smoke from the crashed airship back at the power armor graveyard. The column looks very thin from all the way over here. I could barely smell cooked ponies from over here, mainly thanks to the wind which is really picking up, sending sand in the air. I had to cover my eyes as a large gust of it blow pass me. Unfortunately, I left my mouth open. Hacking up as my hide was being pelted by grains of sand. I had it with all this sand. Where in Equestria has a desert anyway? No, Equestria has a desert but not like this. This was vast. This is -
“AAaaaaaaAAaAHhhhhbffffsmsk!”
As I took a step, the ground beneath my hooves shifted and moved with it! Engulf in my whining I didn't notice the downslope until I got another mouthful of sand as I face planted and skid down it. The hot sand grinds against my hide until I came to a stop with my nose booping something. “Ugh” I grunted, opening my eyes to the empty eye sockets of a skull. “FUCK!” immediately get up onto my hooves, noticing that the skull wasn't alone. It was the full set. many of them. Shattered rib cages poke through the sand resembling teeth. Skulls enviously glare at the still living me. Poorly constructed spears sticking out from the sand littered among the bones. Why do everywhere I go there's death? In the middle of the field of skeletons was an upturn sky wagon that had a big yellow cross with three butterflies in faded paint on its side. The Followers of the Apocalypse, huh. What the hell are the Followers of the Apocalypse doing out here? Whatever here is. Weaving pass the bone dressed ground to the wagon.

It was clear it had been in a fight, bullet holes riddle its frame. Also, it looks like it had a run-in with some tribals, legit tribals. Not what the Steel Rangers refer to us wastelander that aren't in their little club. No, I mean ponies who went primitive. Ponies who after generation of no knowledge of Princess Celestia or even basic equine become more… animalistic? Adopting ideology from old buffalo myths or even created their own new religion. There was this one tribe that worship this one celebrity cause her mug was plaster over some billboards. At least I think there's a tribe like that. Spears adorned with small animal skulls and bird feathers pierce the wagon exterior, but no blood. All this dead and no blood? I cautiously step into the wrecked wagon, nearly buried in the sand. It was ransacked from the looks of it. Metal crates thrown around, used syringes scattered, and clipboards blanketed the floor which was actually the side, but you know.
Upturn.

The metal crates yielded nothing when it comes to loot. that's when the smell hits me. A familiar smell. A sickening smell. The smell of decay. A slightly different smell from the power armor graveyard, but close. This one smells older. How could I even tell that? “Urk” I gag a bit as I saw a weathered mass beneath some clipboards. He must have died a couple weeks ago, longer than the Steel Rangers back at the graveyard. This corpse's skin tightened around his bones. It was a stallion, a light green … pegasus? I've never seen a pegasus before, right? Pretty sure I’ve hadn’t. they‘re a bunch of cowards hiding behind their cloud, right? Well present company excluded, I guess. He mouth hang agape and legs riddle with injection marks. I guess that explains the used needles everywhere. Maybe he’d overdose. he’s wearing a lab coat with the Followers mark on it. Clutching between his front hooves was a yellow medic box. I grab the medic box handle with my mouth, maybe there something useful inside. But the corpse wasn't going to give it up easy, rigor mortis had set in. with pop and crack, I manage to wrestle the little medic box from his death grasp. Lucky for me the box wasn't locked, cause I don’t remember if I could even pick locks. Also, who locks a medic box anyway?

“Aw nectar of the goddess!” luminescent red potion encase in a glass container with that mare’s cutie mark on it sat next to a folded note and a weird glass orb thing within the medic box. I’d immediately down the red potion and felt my headache disappeared along with my sore body. I check the gash above my left eye and felt it close. And most importantly it hydrated my throat. I let out a sigh of relief as I fall onto my back and stretch my refresh limbs. The burning sensation left my body and was replaced a cool feeling. Still was tired though. Looks likes things are looking up for old…
whatever my name is.
I sat back on my plot and look over the rest of the medic box content. Maybe if I could find a vendor or something I might get some caps for this orb thing. I mean it looks nice maybe one of those Society ponies would if I claimed it belongs to Rarity or something like that. And finally the folded note, unfolding it. It saids:

Dear Fluttershy,
I’m not sure you would even get this letter but I could only hope that anypony who finds me will do me the service of getting this letter back to you. I want you to know that I was so proud when I was given this mission, when you gave your speech about helping the ponies around Oasis I immediately volunteered.
But the way to Oasis appears more dangerous than we could have predicted. We should of taking the NCR approve route, but we were too impatient. We thought we get there faster if we flew straight there. We lost Roasted Nuts and Winter Grease when flying over the Badlands. One moment Nuts was telling us about this weird dream he had about a filly who spoke backwards next he was drowning in his own blood as a spear pierced through his neck. Those tribals manage to launch those spears through our windows. While Oatcakes tried to stop his bleeding, Winter tried to give us covering fire. I tried to get us out there fast but one of the tribals must have been a unicorn cause Winter was wrapped in a magical conjure chain and was dragged to the ground. Sweet Celestia! We grew up together, we both left the Enclave together and I did nothing as those monster ripped her wings off! We didn’t have enough supplies to mount a rescue, what we did have we use to help Nuts. But in the end, Nuts died from blood loss and we left Winter to die. When we got to the desert we were hit by a storm of sand it knocks us way off course and broke one of my wings. Also, the wagon’s battery died and was forced to land what looks like a bone pit. We were lost in this Celestia abandoned desert. When our food supply ran low Oatcakes suggest that she head south to look for help. That was nine days ago. I don't think she will be coming back. I’m sorry Fluttershy I failed you. Either I’m gonna die from starvation or whatever caused the death of the ponies who bones litter the ground outside. I could hear it some nights. It's moving below the sand. I might end myself before I let it get me. I should of listen to you. But I didn’t and now I’m responsible for the death of Nuts, Winter, and possibly Oatcakes. I’m so sorry Fluttershy! Please forgive me! And may Celestia have mercy on my soul.

Sincerely your faithful student,
Minty Dew

Well, that was depressing. I look down at the dried-up buck. Should I bury him or something? Say a prayer? do I even know one? I reach back into the empty void known as my mind to dig a prayer up. Some parting word for the deceased.
“Um, we all have a journey? ...In our lives! A path to walk… ehhh. A road to take or something.” clearly I wasn’t a religious pony as I butcher this prayer. But as I continue the words came out before I could even give them any thought. “Each of us walks that road in our own pace.” why was I making a big deal of this colt’s death when I couldn’t give two bits for the Steel Rangers and the Red Crescents. Cause I knew his name now? Cause I read his letter detailing how he came to be in this sad state, which kinda weird that he even wrote all that in a letter, to begin with. “Sometim-” I stop and looked around. What was that? My ears started to twitch as I try to find the sound.

shhhhhhhhhhhH

I unholster my pistol and slowly make my way to the entrance of the wagon, making sure to avoid the loose metal container and used needles.

ShhhhhHHHHHhhhhHH

It looks like the sun finally went down as I stand outside the wagon. There was nothing, at least from what I could see. But I still have a feeling that something was here. Something-
The ground started to shake as the bones begin to rattled! The wagon creak and moan as the spears toppled over! Well except for one that one started to rise. A lump of sand beneath it push upwards! The skulls rolled off with the sand as the mass beneath the sand pushes out. Revealing something. Something black. With an explosion of sand and bones, a massive pincer burst from in front of the rising mass! I back step into the wagon as the shakes got more violent. Pincer was bigger and wider than any Steel Ranger in their power armor! Its carapace was a smoking black, its shell looks like it was boiled then quickly harden causing the bubbles to solidify! A waterfall of sand falls off its body as the thing pushes through the sandy surface. How the FUCK Minty didn’t see this thing was beyond me. This creature was bigger than the sky wagon. Another explosion of sand and bones as ribbed spiny tail erupts from the ground behind the mass! That is the biggest radscorpion I could remember seeing. The one spear still pierced into its shell as it frees its other pincer from the sand. From its size, it dwarfs me and the wagon combined. I’m so dead. Maybe it hadn't noticed me yet and to completely squash that hopes it hissed and slammed one of its huge pincers into the side of the wagon! The whole wagon shook as I toppled over! A pincer shape dent adorned the side of the wagon which is actually the roof but fuckin semantics! I quickly got up and aim at the giant monstrosity! I bit down on the trigger and fire.

P-TAFFF!!

The bullet flew and hit above the scorpion shiny red eyes than ricochet back at me.
“FUCK!!!” I scream as the bullet strikes the gun sending it flying away from me! Yep totally fuckin dead! The scorpion screams a mighty HISSsss in disbelief that I’d dare shoot at it. The gun smack against the wagon’s wall as the black scorpion stabs it stinger tail through the entrance! I barely manage to jump to the side as the stinger pierces one of the empty metal crates! Before it could pull its tail out of the wagon I stomp my hooves down on its hard shell! Which probably didn’t do much as the tail was pulled out it took me with it! I crashed into the sand leaving a cloud of dust as the radscorpion raise its pincer up and then throws it down on top of me. It’s strike sends pain throughout my whole body. I swear I think heard a snap as I spat blood and bit the pincer. GAH! It tasted awful and I nearly retch but as I felt it beginning to lift its pincer up, I wrapped my hooves around, well as best as I could. It being wide and shit. And by the magical properties that allows ponies to hold teacups with their hooves, I manage to hang on as the radscorpion realizing that I wasn’t where it squashed me and felt the unwelcome passenger on it's pincer, it violently shakes it! Oh, look! My headache is back! With another intense swing, I lost my grip of the pincer and I was sent flying in the air to be instantly brought down by its stinger as it plunges into my stomach.
“AAAAAaaaaaaaaa rrrRRGGGHHHhhh!!!” I screamed in bloody gargles as I feel a burning stabbing pain throughout my limp body. I landed with a crash on the massive scorpion's back.
“FUUUUCK!!!!” I gotta keep moving! Gotta move or I’m gonna die! My body was shaking as I force myself up. I could feel my blood drip out of the hole in my stomach. Why do you fuckin hate me, Celestia? Luna? I was lucky it didn’t puncture anything… I think. The scorpion let out a high-pitch hiss as it begins to thrash about!

HIIIIIsssssSSSSSssss!!!!

This wasn’t helping my already unsteady body as I move to the spear that was stabbed into its hard body. I bit down on the spear for support as the radscorpion tries to shake me off! Noting the carving on the wooden shaft of the spear were the words BLACK MAMA. Heh, somepony had a sense of humor. I manage to pull out the spear and slam it back down into the scorpion's back going deeper than before! Yellow blood ooze from the wound as the scorpion let out an ear-pitching scream! The scorpion start to spin in place managing to knock me off; reintroducing sand with my mouth cause I couldn’t have landed any other way! The scorpion move to face me, its red spheres glare down at me.

This fight lasted longer than it thought if scorpions could think and I barely did any damage to it. Yep reinstating my previous point: I’m so fuckin dead that my ancestors are dead by proxy of my deadness. I’m pretty sure that didn’t make sense. As me and the scorpion glare at each other a familiar sound of roaring wind louder than before. Way fucking louder! Then I remember something. Back at the power armor graveyard, when the scavengers were discussing what to do with me. One of them said something about a storm. It didn’t really register with me back then but now as I look behind the scorpion; I know now why they didn’t want to be out here when the storm comes. I think it clicked with the giant radscorpion too as it desperately tried to dig back under the sand. If I could describe it, I’ll say a wall. A massive wall that touches the clouds, made out of sand and wind with bright green lighting erupting inside it. The roaring wind. The sound of sand hitting sand. I’m fucking out! I limped to back to the wagon as the landscape behind me gets consume by the storm! And then with a hiss and loud bang, the storm picks the massive radscorpion and slams it in to the wagon! The wagon caves in as the spear implanted in its back launch out and yellow blood sprays into the interior! Without giving much resistance the wagon and the colossus scorpion were sent flying! The scorpion was dislodged from the sky wagon and disappear within the sandstorm. The wagon bobs and weaves as it throws about within the storm! The sound of million little grain of sand hitting its metal frame along with the metal crates flying to one side of the next! Banging on the wall while also bludgeon me and Minty Dew’s corpse! We limply were thrown around the wagon hits letting explosive of sand into the wagon then lunch back into the air! Well, good thing I can’t feel my body anymore! I imagine this would be excruciating. Lucky for me the scorpion’s toxin is making me feel numb. Well, I had a good run I guess. Lasted one day. In I guess was Oasis? Huh, and I never found who I am.

Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Weathered-- +5 [Survival, Poison Resistance and Radiation Resistance] per rank.
Somehow despite what all the desert threw at you, you manage to survive.
Huh, I guess this is a spoiler.

Author's Note

I was actually having fun when writing the letter and the fight. when I planned this chapter I thought it will be shorter, but somehow it ended longer than that. I'm going take a little break and play some God of War. Also, the little prayer Ninety-nine try to say is the prayer from Project Horizons.

Chapter 3: Neighborly Hospitality

“I’m Crazy Rim and come on down to Crazy Rim’s Used Car Lot where our prices are CRRRRAZY!!! Are you tired of being a worthless virgin?! Wanna be swimming in DICKS!?! Wanna be pouting pusses left and right?! Well get your sweet ass over here and check out our amazing lineup of used cars and I guarantee you will get mad plot!!”

~unaired Crazy Rim’s Used Car Lot commercial

The sound of bullets hitting cement echoes throughout the classroom along with yelling, cursing, and screams. Each one of us flinched at every cacophony roaring outside.
Something is happening.
… raiders?
Steel Rangers??
Hellhounds?!
I and the other students cower away from the classroom’s exit. Crystalborne, the eldest among us ran to the teacher’s desk and started rummaging through it.

“Wh...what you do..ing?” one foal whimpered.
… at least I think they did.
Crystalborne opened his mouth to say something but it was muttered by a bloodcurdling scream from outside. Loud hoofsteps could be heard from the stairs outside the classroom. The other foals huddled together, shivering scared as the hoofsteps got louder and louder. Crystalborne let out a cheer as Miss Vandersquawk’s single-shot shotgun floated above him, wrapped in a glowing aura.
Why did she even had that in her desk anyway?

The other foals had built some courage and ran to the weapon’s locker sitting next to a pinned up drawing of a cheerful pink circle balancing on pink line legs with bright rainbow colored letters saying SWEET PEA. I felt quite proud of it, one of my greatest works.
...Probably.
Taking my eyes off the probably best drawing of the whole class, it gets bonus points for being done by mouth which takes more skill then using some fancy-mancy horn. I trotted over to the locker and unfortunately since I was the last one I got stuck with a bat, a bat with railroad nails hammered into it. I stare enviously at the foals levitating guns above their heads as I chewed on the bat.
Why couldn’t I be born a unicorn?
I blame the old bastard.

Don’t think about the gunshots.
I thought we didn’t have to deal with this.
Don’t think about the hoofsteps coming closer.
I thought Talon company was supposed to prevent stuff like this from happening.
Don't think about having your friends killed.
Think about your kickass drawing.
Don’t think about being killed by the raider climbing the stairs.
Think about that Swordmare comic you found in Stern’s office the other day.
Don't think about having to kill the raider.
Think about the flank bearing armored mare on its cover.

The armed foals positions themselves and aimed at the door. I moved to the back of the classroom.
Don’t want to be in the crossfire.
A magical aura wrapped around the door’s handle.
Stay back, let the possible raiders focus on the others.
The gunfire stopped as do the hoofsteps. Crystalborne pulled the door opened slowly revealing
...a foal?
No, she was a bit bigger than a foal. The mare had an automatic pistol hovering beside her. She's dressed in filthy rags emanating the smell of blood. She looked at us with a face full of shock. A dim green light emits from her foreleg.
It came from …
A pipbuck.

the stench of vomit and piss with a hint of blood filled my nostril as I came to. The dream of the heavily armed foals faded from my head as feeling returns to my body. My body ache and my stomach felt empty, but hey I guess I didn’t die. Felt like it though. I try to lift my head and felt it peeled off the wet floor.
Where am I?
I didn’t feel the heat of the sun, inside maybe? Maybe I should open my eyes and find out.
Oh hey, no sand!
Things are looking up.
I notice the pool of crimson with a bit vomit mixed in around me and from the wetness down south, I’d piss myself.
Yep... looking up…
I was lying on the floor of what looks like a convenience store, two rows of shelves sit in front of me cluttered with pre-war cans and crumpled bags of Chester’s cheese puffs. At the end of the shelves, a wall of broken fridges, filled with empty bottles of Sparkle-Cola and on top of the fridges hanged a poster with a voluptuous mare wearing a garter belt. The words Cider Jacks displayed above her.
Why do mares look sexier with more clothes on?
Priorities.

Loose debris from the ceiling rain down on me as the building shake against the raging wind outside.
Is that storm still going on?
How’d I got here anyway?
The sound of rusted cans clanging on the tile floor, catching my attention. A can once holding peaches and beans came bouncing from the disheveled shelves along with a… filly? A light blue foal with an orange bob cut trotted after the can. A little horn poking from her mane. After the poor old peaches and bean receive another kick, it’s assailant turn to me. Her golden eyes glare into mine then narrowed.

“Hey Blu, the stiff's awake!” she yelled with a tone of an annoyance. I become aware of some movement behind me. I tried to lift myself, only to drop to the ground again as my stomach lurched. I clenched my stomach and felt some moist cloth wrapped around it. Blood soaked bandage wrapped around my stomach, the feeling of Black Mama’s pincer punching through my hide is something I could do to forget. As I check myself, I notice I was naked; beside the bloody bandage of course. The red crescent jacket I was wearing was now gone and also to my horror, I may be many things...maybe. But I don't have to be a doctor to know that my hind leg wasn’t supposed to be bent that way.

“Oh fuck!” I rasped.

“Take it easy, pal.” a masculine voice called out from behind me and a hoof was place on my shoulder.

“Easy for you to say you're not lying in a pool of your own bloody vomit.” I rasped flatly. The unseen buck let out a chuckled.

“HA! It's better than being dead on the side of a desert road.” the foal at the end of the shelves let out a huff and a glare as her horn emits a golden glow. A familiar looking glass orb enveloped in the same glow floated out of the saddlebags that hung from her side.
My glass orb thing!
She places the orb in front of her and then she touches it with her horn to it as her horn emits another glow. Then she suddenly slumps to the tile floor. The building shakes as its constantly sandblast by storm winds.
Um is she alright?
I roll over to see a large elderly unicorn stallion searching through my makeshift bag. Bushy orange eyebrows hang above his stern eyes as he empties the contents of my poorly made bag.

“Useless, useless, and useless. How in Tartarus you manage to cross the Shifting Waste with this shit is beyond me.” he huffed.

“Shifting Waste?” I strain as I asked.

“You mean you cross the Shifting Waste without even knowing anything about it? Are you stupid or something?”

“Possibly brain damage,” I said under my breath. “Where is and what is the Shifting Waste?” the stallion fix me a skeptical glance as he levitated the bits and piece of the broken magical energy weapons back into the bag.

“Well, it's the large stretch of desert between the Badlands and Oasis. Just miles of sand. Must ponies wouldn't gone through the trouble of crossing it unless you’re NCR.”

“Oasis?” I throw him another puzzling glance and in return, he let out a sigh of exasperation.

“You a stable pony?” I give him a shrug of my shoulders, doing so sent a wave of pain over my body. “Stable pony tend to know nothing.”

“I can’t honestly say.” with another sigh, the stallion stops his inventory of my garbage and look at me with tired eyes.

“Oasis was some fancy resort city back before the bombs drop. You are currently on the outskirts of that city. Right outside the red light district and in the Motormane territory. "Heh!” the stallion chuckles with the shake of his balding head. “Shit, you sure picked a hell of a time to play tourist. Here some advice kid, leave this city. Go back to Equestria Proper ain’t nothing good here.” his eyes turn serious as look down at my broken form. “Only bad memories.”
well, that sounded ominous and weirdly unnecessarily poetic.
Hell, it was a little like my current situation. Not the lying on the floor in a pool of my own blood while some stranger causally robs me situation but waking up in a desert without an idea of who I am kind of situation. I fixed the dark blue buck with a contemplated stare, seeing that he took it an upon himself acquire my red crescent jacket. The worn white jacket seems a bit small for the buck.
You’re stretching it!
He’s wearing it on top of a layer of brown ragged clothes, a dark ragged rag wrapped around his neck.

I turn back to the unconscious foal then back at the stallion, well he doesn’t seem concerned about his little friend. I wonder what's their connection anyway?
His daughter?
His granddaughter?
His l...lover?!
The wasteland is a fucked up place, it wouldn’t surprise me. Probably the former since they kinda look the same. Just a bit different coat colors. I eyed the thieving stallion this time he notices it and he waves his hooves in a mock defensive way. “Hey now! What's with that look. I mean seeing how you would have been dead if we hadn’t found ya, these would make perfect compensation.” he said chuckle then looked down at the crappy sack full of junk. “Well, it would have if your stuff wasn’t such shit.” I saw the familiar pistol in a holster strapped around his foreleg. With a nod the stallion motion to the foal. “She's checking out that memory orb of yours seeing if its worth anything. Gauging from how she isn’t moaning I’m guessing it's not smut. Shame.”
Alright, maybe I wasn’t off from them being lovers or something. I kinda hope I was.
I think I'm gonna be sick, tried to push the thought of the old stallion’s comment out of mind and tried to focus on the other thing he said.

“Compensation? You’re robbing me! And what the fuck is a memory orb?” I growled. The stallion rose his hoof.

“Nah its compensation for saving you. You’re welcome!” the old fuck grinned at me. I tried to get up but stomach had other ideas. I clenched it as pained wheeze escaped my maw. “I take it you had a run-in with Black Mama, huh?” the unicorn stallion levitated my bag of junk onto his back.

“The freak Radscorpion? Yeah.” I pained.

“You’re lucky; most folks don’t survive through the paralysis!” the old stallion seems really excited now for some reason.

“Paralysis?” I don’t remember getting paralyzed but I guess it could have happened after I was knocked out.

“You see, I have this theory!” he was shaking a little as grinned down at me with wide eyes.
I made a mistake. I had open the floodgates. If I kept my mouth shut I would have been spared.

“Oh great you got him started” a childlike voice chimed in with snide tone. The unicorn foal had awoken from whatever the hell she was doing to my orb. She leaped over my prone body and join the overjoyed stallion who was practically foaming from the mouth at the idea of explaining his theory. Her horn lit up as her magic pulled a can of peaches and beans from her saddlebag. A knife levitated above her, it plunges into the can and with a pop it opens. I guess I would have smelt it if it wasn’t being overpowered by the smell of my bloody vomit. The foal began to use the knife as a spoon to shovel the can’s contents in her mouth while the elder stallion continues his lecture.

“I believe the radscorpions venom differ depending on its size.” I have a feeling that's wasn’t quite right but I wasn't going to say anything about it in fear of prolonging him. “I once come across a book explaining about these creatures called a tarantula and those tarantulae had venom that was weaker compared to its smaller cousin. I couldn’t make much out of that book since it was on fire.”
Wait what?

“The fucker nearly die trying to the read that stupid book!” the young foal cursing caught me off guard.

“But from what I could gather which wasn’t a lot, that smaller insects need to be more potent venom to survive while the larger ones don’t need to rely on it due to their size. So since Black Mama is the biggest radscorpion I figure her venom is not deadly as the smaller ones. the fact you’re still alive proves that! I mean we hadn’t even given you any antivenom but yet here you are! Talking to us and ever much alive!”
You what?
Is that the reason he saved me?
For a science experiment?!
And you're still going to rob me on top of that?!
Did he just sat around watching me piss myself to prove his conclusion?!?
Why was I just sprawling on the floor getting a lecture about entomology which was probably mute due to this guy being a fucking idiot! And plus all radscorpion are big, they don't need the venom to survive they could do well with just their pincers alone. hell, the venom just to put salt on the wound.

“Augh!” the foal audible said the word augh. “For the last time, your theory is shit! All radscorpions venom are deadly it just that Black Mama is a freak!”
She's right!
Your theory is shit!
And you’re shit!
after the outburst, the stallion who I take it that his name is Blu let out a sigh.

“Alright, Azure I hear ya. Just trying to indulge a bit...” Blu paused as his ears perked up. “You hear that?” the foal named Azure I guess ears perked up as well. I also try to hear whatever he was hearing, but all I could hear was nothing aside from monotone hum which could possibly be my imagination.

“I hear nothing.” Azure answers.

“that's right! The storm has passed!” Blu levitated more bags onto his back. “let's get out of here!” the stallion lifted the dirty rag that was tied around his neck over his muzzle.

“What about him?” Azure nods towards me and Blu with a click of his tongue, he magics out a syringe filled with dark gray substance. Azure’s mouth hang a gasped “YOU’RE WASTING THAT ON HIM!” the stallion hushed her as he kneels down placing the needle just outside the pool of vomit.

“This here will remedy those broken bones of yours” Blu said as Azure”s magical aura wrapped around the exit’s handle and open to the outside world. Bright streams of light flood the dim store along with a gust of warm air. “Alright, we leaving! Nice to meet you and all that!” Blu move to the doorway as Azure quickly put my memory orb thing in her saddlebag and drawn up her scarf to cover her muzzle. Blu turns back and cracks a smile at me as the shitty bag filled with pointless shit bounced on his back. “Seeya!”

“WAIT!!” I manage to cry out, having my inside tighten in response. The little filly joins Blu’s stare as I push myself from the blood stain floor. Pieces of my hair cling to it as it dried. “Where could I find the Baron?” the duo gives each other glances. The dark blue stallion let out a sigh.

“I guess you’re not going to listen to my advice about leaving this place, huh?” the old stallion stood and move his way to the doorway. “South of here. Pass the Motormane’s territory and just outside the red-light district, there's a settlement called Sandy Hill. you’ll know you're there from giant statues of the princesses. Goddesses be with them. The Baron runs that town. Just follow the road and you’ll be there. Down the road, you’ll come across a wall of busted cars and a giant sign saying Crazy Rim’s.”
Whats a car?

“Avoid it.” the foal stated as she merch out into the outside. The stallion watches her as she leaves, I noted that his eyes linger on her for a bit too long added some credence of him being a foalfiddler.

“And I would suggest you go no further than Sandy Hills. The deeper you go into the city more likely you’ll run into The Militia.” Blu said.

“The Militia?” I asked.

“Slavers in power armor. I have a feeling you don't want to go through that again.” as he said that, he tapped the side of his neck. I did so too and felt the carved 99.
Was I a slave?
Were all those slayed Red Crescent soldiers slave too?
“Well good luck to ya kid lets hope we never meet again!” and with that the stallion step into the blinding light of the outside. Leaving me alone among the opened cans and upturn shelves.

That was almost pleasant compared to my first interaction with somepony that I could remember. But now I have nothing. No gun. No glass orb thing. no bag of loose scrap. I reached for the syringe the stallion left behind. I look into the syringe's dark grey slushy contents. Should i really trust some stranger who rodded me by injecting myself with some strange fluid.
It might kill me, which really doesn’t matter I guess. I mean I have no memories or attachments so I guess it won't be that much of a problem if it kills me. That being said I prefer not to die. It's pretty much 50/50.

“FUCK IT!!” I scream throwing caution into the wind as I slam the needle in to my hind leg. Here's to hoping I don’t die. The thick gray slush push into my veins and felt it slither through them. Nausea flood my being as I felt my bones pop and move. I watch as my horribly bent leg crack and unbent. Something in my chest snap. After a sickening minute, the nausea disappeared and my body felt less broken then when I woke up. it was still a strain to get up, but at least i could. Whatever that stuff was it fix my broken legs and I think it also fix a couple of broken ribs. The bandage around my stomach fell to the ground. I checked the wound that Black Mama give me.
A reminder of our time together.
How sweet...
Bitch...

She left me a pink circle shape scar on my stomach above my bellybutton, it looked weird being surrounded by my piss colored hide. Some dried blood clang to it as I steadily walk over to a rack holding a bunch of pre-war magazines. I grab a couple using them to wipe the bloody chunks of vomit off me. While doing this, I glance at some the magazines articles. One had the header “HOOFINGTON RISES”, it was detailing how a lot of smart ponies from Oasis left to help Hoofington rebuild after some fire. Another had an advert of some gentlecolts club with a mare in skimpy attire beckoning the reader to visit their club located 39 south luxuria drive in the red-light district.
Keeping a mental note of that one.
Another had a strange four-wheel thing with pipes poking out of it's metal chassis. After managing what I could get off me, I started to search the store. Which led me to find nothing, which make sense since Blu and Azure probably were all over this place before I woke up. A lot of posters cover the walls, some faded beyond recognitions other had the pink ministry mare on it with her iconic creepy smile. One had Princess Luna tell whoever is looking a the poster to enlist.
Sorry princess but I’ll pass.

I step outside into the warm dry air, the heat of the sun hitting my hide, and the hot sand beneath my hooves.
Goddesses I hate this desert.
Outside the small store stood two large rectangle like box with glass spheres on top of them. I scan the area as I trotted over to them. Written on its side in faded letters it says:

FUEL PUMP #1

A tube had its one end attached to the box thing while the other was attached to what looks like a gun. To my disappointment it doesn’t do anything. Whatever it was before it's just a metal box thing with a bunch of dings and scratches now. I move away from the pump and turn to the road. The road despite the years of neglect was in somewhat good conditions. It was only partially buried by the sand. A signpost pointing to the north had a name of someplace but it was scratched out and was replaced with the word:

BEMOANING

the other sign pointing to the south had the name:

MOTORMANE’S

I keep finding that word “Motormane”, Blu mention it twice. Maybe I should have ask about that.
Oh well.
Blu said I’ll find the Baron whoever that is at Sandy Hills and Sandy Hills is just south down this road. Just need to avoid whoever these Motormane are.

So far here's my gameplan:
Step 1. Find the Baron
Step 2. Find my power armor
Step 3. ???
Step 4. Get my memory back or at least some idea of who I am.
Probably setting my hopes a bit too high, but I can’t worry about that now. I’m currently unarmed and armorless. With a sigh, I gallop south down the broken road.

------2 hours later------

Well for the first couple minutes the track was uneventful. Just a long stretch of sand and a crumbling road. Some billboards litter along the way; some toppled over, others had been adorn with graffiti like “limbus infantium” or “VANDAL TROTS” and one that was unspoiled by the ravages of time had a picture of a red hair unicorn mare with white coat glazing seductively out to the desert wasteland. Words in gold readed Crimson Flare. she's quite the looker and yet she has a nostalgic feel about her. Once upon a time ago according to this billboard she was going to perform live at some place called the Nebula Towers. Was going to share the stage with some other pony name Sweetie Belle; whoever that was. My peaceful walk came to a end with a roar of the wind. Looking behind me; I saw the fuel store thing get swallowed by a wall of sand and wind.

“FUCK!” not wanting a repeat of last time I galloped as fast as I can, which wasn’t a lot since I hadn’t eaten for goddesses know how long and also my legs only had been recently healed. Down the road gray buildings poke out of the sand. I just need to make it there! The storm howls as it drags itself across the desert floor, sending anything that gets caught in its windly grasp into its sandy vortex. My muscle strain with each step against the concrete. The nearest gray building had most of its window cover by what looks like a shutters, all except one and luckily that one is on the ground level. I gallop toward it feeling the pull of the storm. The storm deafens the wasteland natural ambiance. I felt the grains of sand scraped along my flank.
I try to outrun the wind. It went as well as anypony could expect. Sandy winds shredded my expose hide as it lift me up into the air. My flight was cut short as the wind throw me into the open window. Ok well, it wasn't open but the glass didn’t provide much resistance. Couple shards of glass impaled my flesh as I smack into the building's interior. The building groaned as the storm beats against it.
Out of the storm at least.

Now with my new holes I stagger to get up; missing that dead Followers of Apocalypse’s stash back in Black Mama’s death pit. The room was nearly buried in sand and more sand poured in due to the newly open window. The wallpaper of the room was peeled revealing its dark moldy insides. The melt-away ceiling tiles were collapse into the sandy floor almost resembling tombstones. I shook off the fragments of glass out of my mane and hide while I coughed out the sand that made it into my mouth do to the wind. Along the wall that I slam into had a door. I made my way to the door; holding my breath to prevent the sandy winds that pour into the room to get into my mouth. fortunately it wasn't locked as it open with a creaked into an oddly cool feeling hallway. It felt refreshing on my sunburnt hide. I would say my luck is looking up but I don't want to jinx it. I close the door behind me as I enter into the hallway. The sandy winds beat against the door. The air inside felt moldy and a bit dusty but compare to the sandstorm's wind it was heaven. Along the wallpaper peeled halls hang posters adorn with a cat hanging on a branch. Another had what look like a zebra surrounded by ponies in suits its tagline says:

Not all fights happen on the battlefield

Clipboards and pencil litter the hallway’s tile floor. Beside the roaring of the sandstorm outside a mechanical exhale could be heard off in the distance.

Shur-tsh!

The sound was followed by another. It was coming from down the hall. At the end of said hall was a particularly menacing looking portrait of a dark gray mare with a stern glare. A scar hangs under her left eye.

Shur-tsh!

The sound is getting louder as a shadow emerges in front of the portrait.

Shur-tsh!

Shur-tsh

A weird pill-shape machine waddles front of the portraits. It turns its body to face me, blue liquid slush around its glass dome head. It moves towards me wobbling back and forth.

Shur-tsh

Shur-tsh

Shur-tsh

I brace myself as the machine stops in front of me. Its speakers erupt to life as an over-enthusiastic voice calls out from it.

“Welcome employee [data corrupted]!”

Footnote: Level Up

New Perk: Little Leaguer-- +5[melee weapons, unarmed, or explosives] per rank

You had a dream of wielding a bat so that counts, right?

Author's Note