Fallout Equestria: Redemption is Magic

Chapter 4

“I’m not giving him cake! I’m ASSAULTING him with cake!” - Pinkamena Diane Pie

The Lucky Mare Casino was a popular place, visited by ponies from all over who gathered up caps simply to spend them all in one fun-filled night. A place full of sin, but also full of wonder for ponies like Lucky Break. Having inherited the casino from her mother, Lucky Break was living easy, but it didn’t mean she was free from harm.

“So, lemme get this straight,” a big gray stallion muttered. “You want us to give ya another week.”

“Yep! Another week!” Lucky replied, sitting behind her oak office desk, hooves behind her head as she leaned back in her easy chair.

“You asked for another week just last week,” stated the gray stallion. “The bosses ain’t gonna be happy, and when they ain’t happy, ain’t nopony happy.”

Lucky gave him a wide smile. “Hey, is that a new hat?”

The stallion, looking up at the fedora on his head, was a bit surprised. “Why, yeah. Got it last week from a few slavers.”

“I knew it. Looks very nice on you!” Lucky complimented, making the male blush and take a step back.

“Heh… I uh, yeah, thanks,” he said, a small smile appearing on his face as he averted his eyes. Then he realized. “H-Hey, wait a minute! You’re doing the same thing as last week!”

Lucky rolled her eyes, her smile vanishing. “Yeah, yeah, but c’mon. This casino can only make so many caps, and I don’t think being a prostitute is good for my health.”

“Look, forget it. I’ll… I’ll tell the boss you need one more day,” the stallion said. “Only one.”

Lucky Break sighed in relief. “Thanks,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect any more extensions,” the stallion said as he walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Lucky Break, seeing this, leaned back further in her chair, relaxing and looking in the mirror on the wall next to her. A drover yellow mare with conifer green poofy hair, green eyes, and an eyepatch, stared back. She’d decided to wear her favorite jacket that day. A simple brown color was good enough for her, even if it didn’t suit anypony else.

“You’re a real piece of work, Lucky,” she said to herself. “Real piece of work…”

Her office was small, but comfortable, having once been her mother’s room. Lucky remembered every single time she had been called into here when she did something wrong as a young filly. Although it was a room of discipline, it was still a room of memories as well. This was her home, and this was where she’d stay for the rest of her life.

Lucky finally stood up from her chair and walked across the room to where her mother’s old bed lay. Lucky was only twelve when her mother had died, and it was here that Lucky had made a promise; a promise to keep smiling, no matter the events that may come. When it came time to finally run the casino, she took over by storm, even at such a young age. To others, she was a party pony, encouraging others to try their own luck at the casino. In reality, she was putting on a facade to hide her uncertainty.

She could remember what was said about her on the first night she took over.

“Who’s that filly at the poker table?”

“Shh! That’s Lucky Break! They say she’s a descendent of Pinkie Pie! Got that weird sense, too!”

“You’re probably lyin’, but hey, why the fuck should I care? Gamblin’ time! Ain’t no way a filly can win against me!”

Of course, Lucky won. She always won. That was her talent. It wasn’t winning. It was just being lucky, and being able to use that luck to her advantage. An itchy back would always signify when she should take her chances at something. However, it came at a cost. Every once in a while, she’d take a great amount of bad luck every once in a while as fair trade. That luck had even resulted in her losing a leg.

Luckily, a doctor had happened to have been passing through with a prosthetic leg, and luckily, Break happened to have been saving up caps for a gift for her mother, and luckily, it happened to be her size, with modifiable length.

A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought, followed by an uncertain voice. “Uh… Miss Break? We have a problem in the bar area.”

Lucky turned her head to the door. “Is the drunkard back?”

“No, Miss Break,” the voice answered. “It’s uhh… a mare, and she’s dancing on the piano. Literally just put a bag of caps on the counter and told the musician to play something called ‘The Pony Pokey.’”

Lucky sighed and opened her door, leaving the safety of her mother’s old room. “Let’s get it over with.” She marched through the short hallway before entering into the main casino room. It wasn’t anything too fancy, with its old wooden foundation, making it still look like the saloon it used to be before the bombings. Even the swinging doors were still there. Her mother had originally gotten the idea to take old casino tables and to set them up in the building, making it both a place to drink and to play games.

She turned to where the bar sat, and next to it was a piano, with a pink pony dancing atop it while the pianist played from a sheet of music. He occasionally gave Lucky confused glances as he performed, a bit confused by this sudden appearance.

“Miss?” Lucky called out. “Miss, please get down from there. That’s not allowed here. We’re a bit more respectable than that. Also, that piano is over two-hundred years old, so I don’t think dancing on top of it is wise.”

The pink mare, hearing this, hopped down and giggled. “Sorry! I was just so excited! You never know when there’s gonna be another pianist nearby!”

“I’m scared,” whispered the pianist to Lucky.

“Maybe I’ll find a tuba player next time!” exclaimed the pink mare.

For the sake of all the tuba players in the wasteland, Lucky grabbed the mare by the foreleg and dragged her outside, the mare still rattling on about other poor musicians she could possibly harass. After stepping out into the daylight, Lucky faced the source of the disruption.

“Miss, might I ask why you decided to cause a scene in my casino?” Lucky asked, her face giving away her discomfort.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to!” replied the pink mare with a poofy mane. “Earlier I was patrolling the Equestrian Badlands with my friends, then I got sucked into a portal, saw some weird visions, landed on my butt, played tag with armored ponies, met an overgrown bugbear, hitched a ride, ended up here, and then I heard piano music and I was all, ‘There’s NO WAY I’m gonna miss out on a good old-fashioned musical number!’”

Lucky blinked several times, trying to process what this stranger just spat out. “Um… Right. Look, could you please go somewhere else? There’s a shop nearby for wandering ponies. If they haven’t been raided recently, they’re probably still running.”

The pink mare, shaking her head, said, “No can do!”

“Why not?” Lucky asked.

The stranger’s face then turned serious. She pulled Lucky close and whispered, “Cuz my Pinkie Sense keeps telling me something bad’s gonna happen here! I just gotta find out what!”

This seemed to catch Lucky’s attention. “Wait… You can sense it?”

“Yeah! I get many different subtle feelings that tell me what’s about to happen! For example, when my tail twitches, something’s about to fall! When my knee gets pinchy, something scary is about to happen! And when my back itches, it means it’s my lucky day!” the pink mare replied.

This information hit Lucky like a brick. She could normally put two and two together, but this was the entire equation in front of her. The Pinkie Sense was a trait passed down from parent to offspring, originating from only a few special ponies.This trait would be passed down through only a few bloodlines, few enough for Lucky to tell that this had to be Pinkie. “You’re my ancestor? You’re Pinkie Pie? That’s not possible.”

The stranger, now revealed to be Pinkie Pie, giggled. “I dunno about being an ancestor, but I’m definitely Pinkie Pie!”

Lucky Break shook her head. “But you’re supposed to be dead.”

“That’s silly!” Pinkie said. “If I was dead, I wouldn’t be here!” She pulled Lucky Break by the foreleg. “Now, c’mon! We’ve gotta prepare for the huge clusterstorm that’s about to hit!”

Lucky, stammering, was pulled along. She didn’t know what to think. Now that she looked back on her life, she did remember seeing all kinds of posters of Pinkie, and this mysterious mare was a dead ringer, looking exactly like the ministry mare, but just a little younger.

Pinkie trotted through the casino, holding Lucky’s hoof as Pinkie looked for some kind of way to begin prepping. “We’re gonna need a lot of padding! If this is like my time with Twilight, then we still have some time!”

“But I have questions!” Lucky said as she was tugged.

“So do I, but Pinkie Sense comes first! Prep now, ask questions later!” Pinkie said, set on this. Somehow, she was able to locate Lucky’s emergency blankets, pulling up a loose floorboard to reveal the neatly folded stash. “We gotta pad everything! The walls and the floor! Oh! And we gotta make sure the windows are sealed!” After she said this, her body began twitching. Her nose wrinkled while her tail twitched.

Lucky, an unsure look on her face, asked, “Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t really sense anything.”

“Don’t worry! We got this!” Pinkie assured, grabbing up a big, thick blanket and only folding it twice before laying it in the center of the room. “Nopony touches this! Emergency!” Pinkie shouted, the few ponies in the room staring at her as if she were a madmare. “Get a hammer and nails!” Pinkie shouted at Lucky. Actually afraid of this pony, Lucky did as asked, heading to the back room and grabbing the old rusty nails and hammer from her bottom desk drawer.

She came back, and saw Pinkie jumping on the thick blanket padding, testing it for effectiveness. Lucky holding the hammer in her mouth, reluctantly asked, “What are these for?”

“We gotta hang these other blankets on the walls!” Pinkie Pie answered, taking the hammer from Lucky and climbing on the piano. She drove a nail through the blanket, then a second one after climbing onto a table in the corner of the room. Lucky got to work, getting more blankets out from under the floorboards.

Long ago, her mother would be very paranoid at times, and would often keep many of her supplies hidden, an entire stash meant to help out an entire small town, but how Pinkie was able to find the blankets was a mystery, as Lucky’s mother had only ever entrusted the secrets to Lucky herself.

Lucky draped folded blankets over as much of the wooden floor as possible. “Do you even know what we’re preparing for?”

“I don’t know!” Pinkie answered as she hopped down from a table. All the walls had been completely covered with the stash of blankets, save for the windows. Stallions and mares looked all around, taking in this scene of insanity with confusion. As Pinkie helped Lucky spread out the blankets, she could overhear something.

“Mooooooom! Can we go yet?” a filly asked her mother. The little filly’s dark green coat and orange eyes seemed to fit in with the other patrons.

Pinkie turned, seeing the filly and her mother. The filly’s mother, an orange mare with blue eyes replied with, “Not now, honey. Mommy’s winning slots for yer birthday tomorrow. How else am I gonna afford a present in time without whoring myself out?”

Pinkie moseyed on over with a smile. “Um, excuse me.”

“Go away,” the mother grumbled, pulling on the arm of the slot machine in front of her. The symbols spun around and around until finally they came to a stop, showing three crossed-out circles. The machine beeped loudly once, and then went silent, signaling a loss.

“Better luck next time,” the machine blurted out in a monotone voice. Pinkie squinted her eyes as she looked over the machine.

Lucky, walking up to the mother, put on a fake smile. “Ouch. Don’t worry. I’m sure you can win next time!”

Pinkie looked at Lucky in disbelief for a moment before asking, “Aren’t you in charge of this place?”

Lucky looked back, confused. “Yeah? So?”

“Well, didn’t you hear?!” Pinkie gasped. “This poor mother can’t get her daughter a present for her birthday anymore! She lost!”

“What’s that got to do with anything? If you’re saying I should give her her caps back, I can’t. It’s against policy,” Lucky said calmly.

Pinkie was appalled. “Where’s your compassion?! No foal should go a single birthday without a present!”

Lucky sighed. “Pinkie, if I were to give even one pony their caps back, then other ponies would be pretty pissed and start demanding their own caps back. I’m not a charity mare.”

Pinkie looked at the small filly, who hid behind her mother, seeming to be a bit shy around strangers. Pinkie then turned back to Lucky Break, lower lip quivering as she put on the saddest face she could possibly make.

Lucky, seeing this witchcraft, stared wide-eyed with confusion and concern for the pink mare’s sanity. She then took a deep breath and said with a sigh, “Fine, but on one condition. You have to beat me in a game of Poker.”

Pinkie’s grin spread wide across her face and said, “Okay!” Then, in a flash, Pinkie raced to a table near the east window. Looking out, she noticed the sunset. The day was about to transition to night, which made Pinkie wonder if it was Celestia and Luna’s doing. Last she saw them, they were all being sucked into portals. Maybe they were out here somewhere?

Lucky sat down at the opposite end of the poker table. “Alright… Appleloosa Holdem is the game we’ll play. Are you sure you’re up to it, Pinkie?”

“You bet I am!” Pinkie replied, looking confident as she sat down in her seat. “I’m gonna knock your socks off!”

“Sounds lewd,” Lucky Break replied. “No, thank you. C’mon, colts! Get over here!”

As soon as she said that, two light blue stallions approached, one with a groomed yellow and green streak through his white mane, and one with a messy white and brown mane, both sat at both sides of the table between Lucky and Pinkie, looking a bit disgruntled.

“Wasn’t really expecting a Poker match tonight. Thought it was our day off,” the groomed stallion said.

“Yeah, well, I’ll give you hours to make up for this,” Lucky replied. “Yo, Pinkie. If you win, you get the caps. If any of us win, what do we get?”

“Welllllll, I did happen to bring my bottle cap collection!” Pinkie replied. “I wanted to show it off to my friends, but I guess I wasn’t thinking with portals.” She then shrugged and, pulling a box out of seemingly nowhere, placed it on the table. Lucky looked inside the box and…

“Pinkie… Do you realize how much booze you could buy with this?” Lucky asked.

“Why would I want a crowd to boo at me? If anything, I want 'em to laugh!” She giggled, then placed her box on the bar counter nearby before sitting back down.

And so the game began.

. . . M e a n w h i l e . . .

Thorax walked along a ruined street in Manehattan, his eyes taking in the gruesome scenery. He was hoping to have at least still been with Ember, then he’d have some backup in case something went wrong. Now though, it seemed he was alone. There was nopony here except these odd giant roaches, which he could easily avoid by flying away.

“I’m getting bad vibes from this place,” he said to himself. “I need to get back to the others somehow.”

It was at that moment, he heard a hiss, and it was all too familiar. There was another changeling in the area. “What’s this…? A stranger in my turf?”

Thorax stood his ground, staying in place and looking around himself. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

“Ugh… That color. It’s ugly,” the hissing voice said from seemingly all around.

“I’m sorry, did I offend?” Thorax asked, a bit irritated.

“I want you out,” the voice snarled. “Leave this street!”

Normally, Thorax would have listened. This wasn’t even his own world, and he could tell from all the ruins, but… something inside of him kept stirring. What was it? There was no love here. Even in some of the most isolated places in Equestria, there were minute amounts of spread out love, not enough to feed on, but at least it could be felt. Here, in this world, there was no love at all. In fact, there were hints of another emotion. There was hatred and fear here.

“No,” said Thorax. “Not until you apologize.”

There was silence, then a chortle. It was laughing at him. From out of an alleyway came an oddity. It was a changeling, to be sure, an unreformed one, still black and void of color, but… its eyes weren’t blue, not like other unreformed changelings. Its eyes were an emerald green, and its fangs seemed to be more numerous as it spoke. “As if I’d apologize to some giant conglomeration of lollipops and melted crayons.”

“Excuse me?” Thorax’s anger seemed to build. Something was definitely wrong. It was almost as if he were feeding from the miniscule amounts of hatred surrounding him. “Don’t insult me.”

“Oh, boohoo. I’m being insulted,” the stranger mocked. “Cry me a fucking river, why don’t you?”

“I said not to insult me!” Thorax demanded, “You might not realize it, but I’m at least eight times bigger than you.”

“What, in the gut?” The changeling smirked. “That belly is pretty big. Maybe you’ve been feeding a bit too much.”

“I swear to you. Stop, or I’ll…” The rage built up quickly. His color slowly started to fade, but then he stopped, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

“...What?” The foreign changeling seemed to be confused. “Hey, wait! You’re supposed to be angry!”

Thorax took a step back. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“You’re a bitch!” The strange changeling called out. “Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries!”

Thorax put a hoof to his chin. “Uhh… My mother was a tyrant, and I think she ate my father, honestly.”

“Uh… You’re so full of shit, the toilet’s jealous!” The foe changeling snapped back.

Thorax wasn’t having it anymore. He flew off, leaving the odd changeling confused. “Sorry!” Thorax called out. “Didn’t mean to make you angry!”

. . . M e a n w h i l e . . .

The office was cluttered. No sign of any organization was present whatsoever, and that was exactly how Study Guide preferred it. It was her mess, and that meant only she could tell where everything was at. The white walls were completely covered in tacked-on documents, with strings of yarn wrapped around each tack, connecting one document to another in some way.

To many, this oftentimes made Study Guide look like a conspiracy theorist, but in her eyes, it was merely her way of connecting the dots between seemingly unconnectable events and subjects, and even if it seemed irrelevant, she was always able to find proof to connect the two.

The door to her room suddenly slid open, stirring the professor from her sleep. She had been hunched over her desk for well over an hour, and she wasn’t used to being awakened in such a state. Alarmed by the sound of her door opening, she kicked the desk with her hind leg, bruising herself. “Gah! Motherfucker!”

A dark red pegasus with green mane and yellow eyes walked in. His eyes then shifted to look at her. “Professor Study Guide? We’ve assigned somepony to work with you.”

“Who the fuck…?” Study Guide mumbled. Study Guide, a white pegasus with blond hair and blue eyes, was in her early sixties. To her, having somepony assigned to work with her was an insult, as she had been working alone and efficiently for a little over forty years. Her youth was long gone, but her good looks remained, and she was somewhat prideful of that fact.

“Think of it as an intern, I guess,” the dark red pegasus answered. He seemed a little nervous. Being around Study Guide was much like being around a pack of piranhas. “He’s fresh out of the academy, and we don’t really have any room for him in the Delta Sector. Automatically, that means you’re next in line to help him learn the ropes. You go out in the field more often than anypony, so we think this would help him gain a bit of experience before we move him up to Gamma Sector.”

“Can’t Field Study take him? She’s just as capable,” Study Guide argued.

“Field Study is currently being questioned for her recent findings,” the red pegasus replied. “He’ll be arriving soon, and we expect you to be on your best behavior. You’re supposed to be a good role model for our best and brightest.”

“That’s funny,” said Study Guide, reaching for her bottle of alcohol. “Last I heard… I was the best and brightest.”

“The Head of Enclave Science has said otherwise,” replied the red pegasus.

“And it was her who said I was the best and brightest forty years ago. Forty years later, these best and brightest will be replaced just like I am for those who will also be called the best and brightest.”

“Look, just do your job,” the red pegasus said, storming out. The door slid closed automatically. Study Guide grumbled and took a swig of her bottle, then let out a loud burp.

“Fuckin’ idiots… Do this. Do that. Make sure we get an update on the stalkers. Update us on the hate changelings… Oh fuck, I forgot the hatelings.”

As she reached out for her recorder on the desk, a tan-colored unicorn with a brown mane walked in wearing a white lab coat, but what stood out about were his pink eyes. He immediately set them upon Study Guide and smiled. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Double Blind. I was sent here to be a temporary assistant. I have the pape---”

“Yeah, yeah,” Study Guide stopped him right there, then downed the rest of her drink. Another burp emanated from her. “Guh… Alright, here’s the lesson for today. You’re gonna sit there and you’re gonna listen to me do my job, and then you’re gonna tell me what you learned from it. You got that?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” Double Blind answered.

“Time for my magic,” Study Guide said to herself. She then switched on her recorder.

. . . S t u d y G u i d e . . .

“This is Professor Study Guide reporting on the topic of hatelings. Hatelings are more or less a recent phenomenon, with only three ‘confirmed’ sightings so far. There are far more sightings by wastelanders than there are by Enclave soldiers. After questioning dozens of wastelanders, along with the Enclave soldiers who have reported these sightings, I believe I am able to put together a summary of what these creatures may be.

“During the war, there have been more or less reports of changelings infiltrating the ranks and ‘supposedly’ fighting on our side. Changelings, however, are normally only able to survive by feeding on the love of ponies. In order to do this, they need to be able to get close, typically through transforming into a member of our species. Usually they will attempt to become one of our relatives or lovers in order to get the maximum amount of love possible. This feeds the changeling, helping them to become stronger.

“Whatever had happened to them after the war was a mystery, but that may no longer be the case. We now know that the lack of love may have forced them to feed from other emotions, such as hatred and other malicious emotions, but it still doesn’t explain why there are so few of them, as it would seem there is enough hate to feed entire hives.

“These new changelings will now be referred to as ‘hatelings’ until further notice, and will be classified as a vague threat due to the scarcity of this new subspecies. What I’m more interested in is what their society may be like, if there is one at all. They seem to be so scarce that there may not even be a hive at all. They may just be lone creatures.”

“What if they all just hate each other?”

. . . S t u d y E n d . . .

“What…?” Study Guide looked over to Double Blind.

“I asked about the possibility of them just hating each other,” replied Double.

“I’m sorry, are you an expert?” Study Guide asked before going back to her recorder. She then resumed to speak into it. “Any and all attempts to find a hateling have been met with failure.”

“If you think about it from a psychological standpoint, there’s a chance they could be suffering from low self-esteem due to their history,” Double Blind chimed in.

“Would you stop that?” Study Guide asked. She then stopped her recorder before setting it down. “This is going to be a long day…”

. . . M e a n w h i l e . . .

Their game dragged on through the night, with it seeming like neither Pinkie nor Lucky Break had the upper hoof. On occasion, Lucky would check Pinkie’s unmoving smirk. Everypony had a tell, but Pinkie… She was like a machine. Lucky just couldn’t decipher anything from this pink mare. Lucky was supposed to be a master, but everything about Pinkie was misleading. It was almost as if Pinkie had played the game her entire life, a perfect match for Lucky.

“So, Ponk-a-ponk,” Lucky said as she drew a card. “Portals, huh? Wacky story.”

“Mhm.~” Pinkie nodded, then went back to her neutral smirking face. “I run into all kinds of wacky things!” Next to the poker table, sitting at the bar, were several patrons. A zebra, two hatelings, and a bat pony.

“My money’s on the Pinkie look-a-like,” said the larger of the two hatelings.

“Fuck you. It’s always Lucky Break. Bitch robbed me of my caps last week with her stupid roulette game,” said the smaller hateling.

“Are you sure you were not just a shit player?” asked the zebra.

“HNGKKKKKKKKKKHHHHHHH…” the batpony snored, sleeping comfortably on one of the stools.

Pinkie darted her eyes to the left, spotting the mother from earlier, sleeping on a folded blanket with her daughter nestled next to her. Pinkie would win this match. She had to. The two stallions by now, after four hours of playing, had both lost the game, having bet all their chips, now simply sitting in their seats and watching.

A question popped into Lucky’s head. “Why are you so intent on this? Even if she does get her caps back, you heard what she said. There’s no way she can afford anything anyway.”

“I know,” Pinkie replied, and she seemed to leave it at that. She knew Lucky was stalling for time, looking for a tell. But now that Pinkie drew her card… “I’m gonna go all in!”

“Really now?” Lucky asked. She looked at her own hoof of cards. Fine. All in. I’ll even throw in a few free drinks.” Now it was Lucky’s chance. She put down four Clover the Clevers and one Applejack. “Four of a kind.”

Pinkie, not even looking at her own cards, put them down. Lucky’s eyes widened as she saw what was there. Five Pinkie Pies. “Five of a kind!” Pinkie shouted.

“But that’s… literally impossible,” said Lucky. There’s only four Pinkies. I’ve even counted every card in the deck!”

“Did she cheat?” asked one of the two stallions.

Lucky Break stayed silent, then a small giggle escaped her lips, leaving the two stallions confused as she burst into laughter. The entire casino could hear her, and finally she said, “I don’t know what kind of trick you’re trying to pull, but… Fuck it. It worked.” She stood up, and then tossed five caps across the poker table. “I don’t know if you really cheated or if I miscounted. Right now, I’m tired, and I don’t care, and to be honest, I needed a good laugh.”

“Great! Now you can help me set up for the party I’m gonna throw for the filly!” Pinkie said, grinning wide.

Lucky suddenly stopped her laughter. “No.”

“Yes!” Pinkie replied.

“Pinkie, I can’t keep giving in to requests,” Lucky said.

Pinkie’s grin grew even wider somehow. “Not a request if I’ll do something in return! Then it becomes a trade!”

Lucky held up a hoof to object, but then she stopped herself. Pinkie was… right. Lucky couldn’t help but smile and laugh to herself. “Damn it, Ponk! Fine! You owe me, and you’d better keep your end of the deal!” Lucky said, laughing. The two stallions at the poker table looked at each other. It was rare for another pony to make Lucky Break laugh like this.

“So you’ll let me use your casino?!” Pinkie asked, eyes and smile begging.

“Yes, fine,” said Lucky, calming down from her fit of laughter, “but you’d better clean up the mess after, and you owe me one favor, and it’s gotta be whatever I ask!”

Without a second thought, Pinkie went to work throughout the rest of the night, tirelessly working to improvise with decorations after her own supply had run out. Where she had kept those supplies all this time, Lucky would never know, and she didn’t really care anymore. She was beginning to like this mare more and more. Maybe this really was Pinkie Pie. From all the stories she had ever heard of the ministry mare, this behavior seemed to fit Pinkie’s earlier days in Ponyville, before everything had gone downhill.

Other ponies, a bit surprised by this friendly gesture of kindness, decided to join in, helping to decorate the entire casino with whatever they could make use of. The decorations weren’t perfect, but at least they were something. Everything from boots to ripped pieces of old jackets were utilized as many things, like streamers or simple visual aesthetics. Even Lucky Break had joined in, not really caring about her image at this point. However, at this point, she couldn’t shake the feeling she was forgetting something.

Daylight eventually broke, and the small filly who had been sleeping against her mother opened her eyes to see everything. In front of her was a large blue cake with pink frosting on the front saying, “Happy Birthday!” Pinkie had somehow been able to make it using only an old bag of expired flour and by using rusted pans over an open fire. As for the frosting, Pinkie had apparently stashed a tube of it away in her mane for “birthday emergencies”.

The filly, in awe, stood up and warily walked closer, wondering if this confectionary delight was even real. She looked to see if anypony was watching. Nopony else appeared to be in the room. Sticking her tongue out, she slowly inched her face closer to get a quick taste when…

“SURPRISE!” Pinkie Pie burst through the top of the large cake, a big grin on her face. “Happy Birthday!”

The filly suddenly jumped back, eyes wide in both confusion and fear. She had never seen such insanity before. Why was this pink pony in the cake, and why was she even wishing her a happy birthday? The only other pony she knew who would actually wish her a happy birthday was her own mother.

Cautious, the filly asked, “Is this for me…?”

“Well, DUH! Of course it is! It’s your birthday, silly!” Pinkie replied. Jumping off the cake, she landed on the ground and lifted the filly onto her back, letting her reach the flickering candles. “Make a wish! Make a wish!”

The filly, not wanting to offend, closed her eyes and blew gently, the flames easily going out without much effort. She then saw other ponies walking into the casino, along with her mother, who was smiling when she saw Pinkie carrying the filly.

“Mom, did you do this?” The filly asked, climbing off and rushing to her mother.

“Nah, but this psycho did. I guess not all ponies are bad,” said her mother with a smirk, gesturing to Pinkie with a slight nod.

The filly turned to Pinkie and smiled wide. “I’ve never had a cake before! You did this for me?”

“Yep! There’s no way I’m gonna let somepony go a single birthday without a birthday cake!” Pinkie said proudly, her chest puffed out, the pink mare looking serious with a smile.

Lucky walked out of the back room, holding a bottle of booze in her mouth. Taking it into her hoof, she said, “I don’t normally let this kind of shit happen in here. You’d better appreciate it.” She then looked to Pinkie with a smug grin. “Ya know, you’re pretty fucking crazy, but maybe that’s where I get some of my own risky traits.”

“Yeah, well I--” Pinkie was about to say, but then…

A pony suddenly came crashing through the front window, bloodied up. His body twitched in pain as his fearful gaze landed on Lucky Break. “They’re here! They’re here!”

Lucky raised a brow in confusion until she heard a familiar tune playing, strings of a metal guitar being plucked from outside, one by one.

“Luuuuuuuuucky… LUUUUUUUUUUUCKY!” Two voices, one mare and one stallion, called out playfully at the same time.

It was them. Nopony had ever messed with them and lived, and Lucky had messed with them. They had three names. Some called them Tracks, the leader of the Wheelz gang. Others called them Burnout, the savage rampaging raider. But the most prominent name they had ever gone by was Wreckage.

“Fuck! Pinkie! Get that filly and her mother out of here!” Lucky commanded. She rushed to the back corner of the casino behind the bar counter, then began pulling up loose floorboards to reveal a small emergency pistol.

“Where’s our caps, Lucky?!” A single light-purple hoof stepped into the bar, then a second, but not a third. Wreckage appeared to be standing on both her hind legs. Lucky peeked her head out from behind the bar counter to see the familiar cyan eyes and sinister grin with a long, flowing, teal mane. Still smiling, Wreckage said, in both mare and stallion voice tones, “We promise we’ll let you live, Lucky. We only want our caps!”

“Don’t worry! I’ll get you your caps tomorrow, I swear!” Lucky shouted back, getting up on the bar counter, the pistol in her mouth. In Lucky’s mind, however, she knew that this monstrosity wasn’t going to give her any second chances. She’d seen what it could and would do to ponies who crossed it.

Wreckage ran forward on her two legs, taking a metal guitar from behind their back that had been strapped to them, then swinging it wildly with her two forelegs. “You either give us our caps or we're gonna take our payment in another currency!”

Lucky fired her gun, the bullet ricocheting off the approaching goon as if the strange mare was made of metal. It didn’t even leave a mark on her. Seeing this, Lucky jumped off her back, following the sign her itching back gave her and barely dodged the metal guitar slamming through the bar counter, making a clean dig through it. Not even the guitar was damaged, which made Lucky even more wary as she picked herself up off the floor.

Pinkie, a bit peeved, stepped forward. “Hey! This is a party! You can’t just start crashing parties like a… like a… um... like a party crasher!”

Wreckage’s gaze landed on Pinkie, the sadistic smiling psychopath rushing towards her. Lucky quickly tackled Pinkie from the side, getting them both out of the way of the oncoming attacker. Wreckage skidded to a halt, her guitar raised before slamming it down into the birthday cake, sending bits of the dessert everywhere. She turned her head slowly, the grin still present on her. It appeared to Pinkie that this pony didn’t know when the right time to smile was.

“Where’s the filly?” Lucky asked Pinkie, helping her up and running outside with her. Lucky needed to get behind the casino. Her mother had hidden a stash of weapons back there before she passed away. If Lucky could just get to them...

“Ummmmmm I dunno,” replied Pinkie. “Her mom took her.”

“At least she’s not near the carnage,” Lucky said.

Pinkie then noticed something sticking out of Lucky’s jacket. It was a tin. “Hey! What’s that?”

“Uh… Mint-als?” Lucky replied. “Don’t judge me. They help me think sometimes.”

Just then, Wreckage called out from the entrance of the casino, “LUUUUUUUUUUCKY! Are we playing tag?! Are we supposed to chase you?!”

“Luna fuck me,” Lucky swore to herself.

“Luna what you?” Pinkie asked, following Lucky along the side of the casino. They were halfway there.

“It’s nothing,” said Lucky. She then realized something. Wreckage wasn’t chasing them. She slowed her pace and turned around, still walking backwards in case the monster was still coming. “Where’d she go…?”

Pinkie stopped and her ears flopped, her eyes fluttered, and her knees went wobbly. “She’s coming through the--!!!”

The wooden casino wall exploded into splinters, allowing a mass of blankets to push their way through. It appeared that Wreckage had attempted to break through the wall to get to them faster, but didn’t think the thick blankets would stop her. Fortunately for Lucky, Wreckage was wrong, and now she was caught temporarily.

Lucky grinned, then grabbed Pinkie’s foreleg. “C’mon, before she untangles herself! Glad you put those things to good use!”

Reaching the back, Lucky began removing a large plank off of the wall, revealing a very deep space behind it. She reached in and pulled out various weapons, but the one she went for was one she hoped would stop the abomination, a rocket launcher. As she grabbed the rocket ammo as well, Pinkie looked inside the weapon storage space, her eyes lighting up with joy.

“Hey!” Pinkie cried out. “Is that my party cannon?!”

“Your what?!” Lucky asked as she tried to put in the rocket, but it was much too wide for the rocket launcher. What kind of ammo was this?

“My party cannon! It’s my party cannon!” Pinkie shouted, pulling out a faded blue cannon. The paint had been a little chipped over the past two-hundred years, but it still kept its signature color. She looked inside her weapon. “...Where’s the confetti? I always keep my cannon preloaded just in case!”

Lucky looked at the large width of the rocket, then at the party cannon, putting two and two together. “...Seriously?”

She pushed Pinkie out of the way, Lucky’s tin of mint-als falling from her pocket. As she fitted the rocket into the cannon, Pinkie looked at the tin. Pinkie couldn’t help but feel drawn to it, as if she’d seen it so many times before. She then swiped it, sticking it into her mane before Lucky could see. Maybe Lucky won’t miss them?

Lucky Break shoved the explosive into the cannon, she looked for a trigger of some kind. Pinkie, seeing that Lucky was having trouble, said, “Oh, silly! You’re doing it wrong! Watch this!”

As Pinkie pulled the string on the back of the rocket, Wreckage had just walked around the corner to see the missile flying as her. Hitting her in the stomach, Wreckage went flying into a dead tree, the missile still pressing itself into her as its nozzle continued to spew flames. Eventually Wreckage grabbed onto the missle with her front hooves and turned it, making it point in a new direction and flying off in a random direction before it went off in a fiery explosion.

“You’re dead,” Wreckage said as she stood up. It was then that she ran forward at an unholy speed, slamming her guitar into Lucky and sending the poor mare flying through the back window of the casino. Hitting the wall, Lucky immediately conked out, her vision going black.

“You’re dead.” Pinkie watched in slow motion as the party pooper ran forward and smashed her new friend through a window with her guitar, then, turning towards Pinkie, she struck again. Of all the things Pinkie had felt up to that point, getting hit in the cutie mark with a metal guitar into a wall by a purple earth pony was only the third strangest, but it was the most painful.

The impact from the guitar sent her slamming against the wall, her body now filled with the sensation of intense pain. She dropped down, and then opened her eyes to see something dripping down from her brow, something red. Was that blood? She could remember being cut once before on the rock farm as a filly, but there wasn’t nearly this much.

Standing over her was Wreckage, staring down with the same grin she had worn throughout the entire battle, the feature seemingly permanent on her face for some reason. Pinkie could just barely move. Her instincts were scrambled, multiple thoughts running through her brain at the same time. She felt like she knew what she had to do, but didn’t know what. Wreckage raised her guitar high in the air.

“You’re no fun,” Wreckage said. “Just like any other pony, you’ll die, and only we will remain. How does it feel? Tell us, because we can’t feel. We want to feel, but no matter how much we put ourselves through, we’ll never get to feel any sensation. What does your pain feel like?!”

It was at that moment that Pinkie’s mind screamed one word, and she didn’t know why: mint-als. She reached into her poofy pink mane and pulled out the tin, opening it. Inside were what looked to be four little candies. Maybe just one more sweet treat before it all ended?

Simply seeing them, something stirred inside of her, something that felt random. It was multiple emotions at once. It didn’t make much sense, but then again, “What fun is there in making sense?” she said to herself. She dumped the entire contents into her mouth.

In that moment, images rushed into Pinkie’s mind. She could see every outcome, every single event that would ever happen, all the way into next week. It was actually pretty neat. What if she used this to plan the perfect surprise party? Nopony could ever predict a Pinkie surprise party ever again! She suddenly received more images, ones that seemed to worry her. She could see ponies in armor, abyssinians with daggers, Rainbow Dash? Is she…? Oh no! Wait, no, that doesn’t happen. The problem with this was that she could see every outcome, all within a week, even hundreds of outcomes within the next ten minutes! Now THIS is a doozy!

The guitar slammed down, hitting the dirt. Pinkie was gone. A crackle of electricity could be heard from behind Wreckage. Turning around, she saw a pink flash before being punched across the face with a hoof, blood, for the very first time, dripped from Wreckage’s face.

“What is this feeling…?” Wreckage asked before receiving another punch, more blood dripping down her face and soaking her fur. “Is this pain? ...DO IT AGAIN!” She said, being punched once more. Maniacal laughter escaped past the mad mare’s lips. She swung her guitar, narrowly missing Pinkie. Multiple swings, with each one missing, almost as if Pinkie could tell where the next attack would be. At this point, it appeared to be getting on Wreckage’s nerves.

Pinkie seemed to enjoy this. It was like a game. A game of… “Hey, way! Didn’t you wanna play tag earlier?!” She then dashed behind the rampaging mare, poking her in the back and sending her stumbling forward. “You’re it!"

Wreckage swung in a half-circle, trying to hit the pesky mare, but yet again, Pinkie wasn’t there anymore. In anger, Wreckage began slamming her guitar against the ground, kicking up dust and clouding the area. “Where are you?! Give me more pain! More!”

Well… she did ask. As the dust settled, the familiar blue cannon could be seen in front of Wreckage, leaving the mare confused until she felt hooves shoving her forward into it, cramming her into the tight space. Pinkie pointed the cannon upwards and then pulled on the string, sending the abomination straight into the sky at breakneck speeds. With every outcome Pinkie could see, this was actually the most efficient way to get her away as far possible without killing her. Looking up, Pinkie could see the details vanishing quickly as Wreckage went further into the air and over the nearby city.

Pinkie then suddenly felt like jelly, her legs giving out on her. She collapsed, her mind going blank. Every future event she could see before was gone, and even her present-day vision slowly darkened until she finally went unconscious.

. . . S t u d y G u i d e . . .

This is a class D report. All Enclave are to be briefed with this information effective immediately or as soon as possible. Civilians may be briefed by soldiers under the supervision of a commanding officer to ensure there is no misinformation.

“Professor Study Guide on the topic of a recent raider gang that has surfaced. Currently known as the Wheelz, this gang has been inflicting chaos all across the wasteland, attacking settlements and traveling merchants. They’ve even been known to attack Enclave officials with little to no hesitation, making them a large threat. I recommend moving their status to Threat Level Three, which is common for most wasteland raiders.

“The only significant member of this gang is their leader, who often goes by multiple aliases, such as Tracks, Burnout, or most often, Wreckage. Wreckage has done major damage to multiple vertibucks, with an ability to resist all weaponry so far. The only tools that have been effective so far are smoke and flash grenades, slowing down her destruction, albeit temporarily.

“Due to their inability to feel pain, they can push past what the normal pony body will allow. With this in mind, Wreckage is often known for lifting many things, from rusty signs to sky carriages, often either using the former as melee weapons or projectiles.

“What is most interesting about this individual are the rumors that surround them, most of them claiming that Wreckage’s unnatural abilities may be the product of zebra magic. We have been attempting to contact local zebra tribes near the Manehattan area, but all mentions of Wreckage are usually met with either anger or fear. Many zebra appear to deny this, and it is difficult to get any more information out of them without using torture tactics.

“I want this pony captured at all costs so we may perform closer studies. This may allow us to weaponize whatever zebra magic Wreckage may be using.”

. . . S t u d y E n d . . .

Lucky Break held a wet cloth to Pinkie’s forehead. When Lucky found Pinkie, Pinkie was undergoing some kind of fever, but it wasn’t any kind of fever Lucky had ever seen before. On occasion, Pinkie would tremble, her body emitting static across her entire body, the bright electric arcs temporarily lighting up.

With Lucky’s reliable talent coming through, a wasteland doctor had stopped by the casino to spend some caps. Lucky was told that Pinkie would be just fine, but nothing could really explain the static. The filly and her mother had returned later that day, and Lucky, having been influenced a little by Pinkie’s eagerness to help this foal, gave the filly a slice of the remaining smooshed cake.

For Lucky, seeing the filly’s eyes light up with joy at her first taste of it seemed to make the day seem brighter, despite everything that had happened. In secret, Lucky was happy that Pinkie came along, but Lucky was still curious as to how her ancestor had managed to travel across time. What secrets did this pink mare hold?

Lucky’s eyes drifted across the casino, eventually landing on a box next to the poker table. Wait a fucking minute. She walked over and peeked at the contents, seeing bottle caps. Pinkie’s bottle cap collection. Lucky then thought back. How much did she owe the Wheelz gang? Then she realized something…

We could’ve paid Wreckage back with this…

Fuck.

Author's Note

Was three days late with this chapter, and it's slightly shorter than other chapters by at least 800 words. I hope you guys don't mind. We really had to crank up production and do a lot of quality control to ensure consistency. Got a few lore experts helping me as I write.

Still waiting for progress on that video. Should be out by today, hopefully. If not, then some other day.