Author's Note

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5w-p6jwE7w

Hey guys. If any of you remember me from No Man Left Behind, then you'll be familiar with the chapter themes. I'm proud to say that I'm going to continue to do them in this story as much as I can. As for the story itself, I hope you guys enjoy. It's going to be an interesting ride, and I'm not quite sure just how long it's going to last for, but I do hope you all stick with me until the end. I hope to see you all whenever I upload.

Chapter 1

A razor sharp wind cut through the air like a hot knife through butter, giving off a howling chill as it pierced the skeletal remains of the city below. As he traversed over the broken down husks of long abandoned cars and debris, a cloaked figure squinted through the chilly air. He tightly held his ragged cloak against his face to stave off the beginnings of frostbite, while his eyes scanned through the falling snow for any sign of life in the decadent city.

In his free hand, he held a pair of binoculars. The glass was broken on the right side, it's usefulness lost long ago. Upon noticing what appeared to be movement, he paused mid step, and brought the broken binoculars to his eyes. He squinted harder with his left eye, trying his best to see through the snowfall.

He couldn't identify anything for several minutes, and albeit hesitantly, he brought the binoculars back down to his waist and back into their pouch. With his left hand now free, he slowly unslung his rifle and brought it to his shoulder. A second ticked by, and with it, the cold wind continued to batter against him, blowing the tail of his tattered cloak out in the process.

Then, he was on his back. He never even heard the shot.

The force of the bullet knocked him off his feet, and he flopped onto his back, his rifle falling to the ground, and his broken binoculars dropping from their pouch in an instant. Biting cold clawed at his body, and slowly, he lost feeling in his limbs.

It didn't take long for the sound of footsteps to echo through the street. Within a few minutes, another figure, clothed in several layers of weathered camouflage approached the body with a rifle raised and aimed in case he was still alive. Once he arrived, he kicked the downed man's foot. There was no reaction. Relaxing significantly, the man slung his rifle and leaned down to loot the body. He only unlaced one boot before three more shots rang out, and he was dead, blood pouring from his skull.

"Ugh..." Cooper groaned as he sat up slightly.

He pulled his cloak aside to reveal a dirty plate carrier covering his chest. With a wince, he reached under the fabric to touch his chest. The tender flesh stung at the touch, but he detected no wetness.

"Three O' Eight... Fuck... Good thing you didn't have any AP rounds." Cooper sighed as he got to his feet and re-holstered his pistol on his hip.

He quickly searched the body for any supplies and ammo he could take, but found almost nothing.

"Damn... not even any more ammo... You really used your last bullet on me, huh?" Cooper shook his head.

With nothing else to take, he grabbed his rifle off of the ground and hastily made his way off of the highway. The closest building was barely standing, but it provided just enough concealment in case any one else was attracted to the sound of gunfire. He entered through the open doorway, his rifle aimed and at the ready the whole time, but quickly found that there was nothing and no one in the house. Any kind of life seemed to have died off long before Cooper's arrival.

The building was a small house once. The layout and destroyed kitchen furniture were indicative enough of that. Upon finishing his search of the house, Cooper sat down in what was once the kitchen to examine his equipment.

His plate carrier now sported its eighth hole, and the plate inside felt slightly lose, and flexible. He sighed before pulling out his sidearm and dropping the magazine. There were only four bullets left, plus one in the chamber, totaling up to five.

"That third shot was overkill... Fuck me... Should've saved it." Cooper muttered.

As with his pistol, he pulled his rifle out and released the magazine. Only one bullet shown in the rusted metal magazine, and he chewed his cheek in thought for a few moments before returning the magazine to his rifle.

With his equipment now organized, Cooper let out a long sigh.

"Five rounds of nine mil... two of seven-six-two..." He frowned.

He took to glancing out the window to get a sense of his surroundings. The harsh snow made it difficult to see further than a hundred feet or so away, but from what he could see, there was a large open field directly in front of the building he was in. Further out, a series of connected buildings, likely former apartment complexes, stood out as the obvious next move. Cooper looked back down to his watch and saw that it was nearing five in the afternoon.

With no sign of anyone else coming to investigate the sound of gunfire, Cooper gathered all of his gear and slowly exited the building on the side furthest from the highway. He hunched low to keep his profile as low as possible while moving across the open field to the apartment buildings. As he progressed, more and more of his surroundings revealed themselves to him. Primarily, the graveyard to his left, and the dilapidated tree slowly decaying above the small yard. To his right, more buildings off in the distance made themselves known, but aside from that, all he could see was white snow and the slowly darkening grey sky.

Cooper soon found himself at the foot of the first building, and he quickly hugged the wall for cover. He glanced back and forth but could see nothing and no one in the blizzard. His worn out boots made distinct crunching sounds as he progressed along the outside wall to the front door of the building. He kept his head low, below the windows and balconies of the apartment complex while he moved.

He opened the front door and stepped inside, bringing his rifle up to his shoulder in the process. Immediately, he saw the decayed state of the building. Entire floors were caved in on themselves, forming a massive crater in the center of the building, and allowing snow to pile up in the center of the floor. Light shown in from the ceiling, as snowflakes trickled in from the outside world.

Cooper made his search quickly, and soon moved to the next building. Much like the first one, it was in a state of utter decay, although there was a can of chile buried under one of the floorboards.

"Looks like dinner... Even if it expired a year ago..." Cooper muttered as he placed the can in his pocket.

With the first two buildings done, Cooper made his way over to the third building and began his search. Surprisingly, the third building was in much better shape than the first two, and the third floor still had all its windows intact. He swept the floor with his rifle, carefully checking each corner in case there were any threats hiding from him, but he found nothing. There was a decent sized bedroom with a mattress that felt stiff, and dirty, but he laid down on it all the same.

"Best bed I've had in months..." He whispered to himself.

For a few minutes, Cooper just enjoyed the feeling of the mattress against his body, before he got back up to his feet, and made his way back to what he assumed was the living room. There was some furniture that seemed like it could still support his weight, and he tested each of them accordingly. First, he laid down on the couch, and it easily took his weight. Next, he tried the adjacent chair, and albeit with some creaks, the chair held firm against his weight as well. With a satisfied sigh, he made his way over to the kitchen and eyed the appliances. The appliances all seemed modern, and made of stainless steel. He tried the stove, but it was completely dead.

"Hmm..."

He made his way to the metal cupboard and opened it, revealing several cobwebs as well as some ceramic plates and bowls.

"Well that's good... Now I just need a way to heat this and I can eat something warm for once."

Cooper searched around the apartment for quite some time before giving up and finding nothing else of value.

"Fuckin' modern furniture... Nothing's made of wood. Can't burn shit in here..." He thought aloud, before a slight breeze caught his attention.

Cooper turned to face the nearest window. Immediately, he noticed the balcony outside, along with the grill. He made his way out through the broken screen door, and grabbed the handle of the storage box on the bottom of the grill. Once opened, he saw a white propane tank, seemingly untouched by the cold world around him. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the propane tank and gave it a firm shake. The sound of sloshing liquid inside ignited a victorious feeling in his heart, and he barely suppressed a cheer of joy as he removed the tank from the grill and make his way back inside.

However, just as he stepped one foot back into the apartment, a faint sound caught his ear. Cooper froze, and in the dead silence of the world around him, his ears picked up on what he could only assume was crying. He slowly turned back around and looked out into the chilled landscape in search of the source of the voice. All that greeted his eyes, however, was white snow and grey, decayed buildings off in the distance. For a moment, he entertained the idea that the crying was all in his head, but a sharp sniffle brought his attention right back to the street front of him, and he slowly grabbed his pistol with his free hand.

Taking care to diligently search the area in front of him, Cooper's eyes darted back and forth between each piece of debris and pile of snow. Every desolate tree and rusted over vehicle was scoured, until his eyes fell on a cardboard box sitting idly in the middle of the sidewalk across from him. It was just big enough for a child to fit inside of, and the thought of any child having to endure the world alone sent a stabbing pain through Cooper's heart. All the same, he looked back and forth for any signs of a trap, before he gave a silent sigh, and stepped back into the apartment.

Once inside, he deposited the propane tank on the floor and headed out the door. Within a minute, he was down the stairs and standing at the front door of the apartment. The cold wind sent a chill down his spine as he deliberated on how best to approach the possible ambush. With the sun setting quickly, only known from the blackening of the grey skies, Cooper decided on his course of action. He silently skulked out into the snow and moved from one destroyed car to the next, until he was only a few meters from the cardboard box.

He took one last cursory look around him to ensure no one was watching him, before he moved from his cover and reached the cardboard box. It almost seemed to shake as he approached, making a pit form in his stomach almost instantly. Out of reflex, Cooper pulled out his pistol and aimed at the box while he made his final approach. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed the edge of the box. A faint whimper reached his ears, before he flipped the lid open and jumped back. Nothing. He waited for a moment longer before stepping back up to the box and looking down into its contents.

What he saw was the last thing he expected to see. Instead of a child, or young adult, he saw what could only be described as a lavender pony. Its mane and tail were a distinctly blue color, with two highlights of purple and pink respectively. It almost seemed malnourished, if the visible ribs were anything to go off of. On its back, connected to its shoulders, sat a pair of disheveled wings, and on top of it's head, a delicately spiraled horn. Cooper focused on its face for a few moments, taking in how much shorter its muzzle was than a normal horse, and how it's deep purple eyes gazed back at him with an expression of pure terror.

"P-please... don't eat me..." She whimpered.