All Roads Lead Home

Chapter One:
An Anomaly

“I like to think all ponies have enough sense to do the right thing.”

Day to day... It's been fucking weeks now.

I can't sleep much. Not that I did before. The same dream keeps coming and I just… Well, the only respite I get is by staying awake; to keep moving. There’s something in there though. It’s in the air, hard with surfaces, edges, and corners. Invisible primitives of reality inside a tinkerer’s junk drawer. I just can’t finish it. Much to my family's disappointment.

Because zebras say dreams are visions from The Infinite.

The dreary shroud snapped me out of my trance. I lifted an orb out of my saddlebags, it pierced through with an eldritch blue glow. The artifact bounced in the air just above my hoof, its radiance illuminating faintly a few feet in front of me. I could barely muster a tiny squint as sand and dust beat away at my face. Fuck. Home could wait because if I had to walk through this wall of brown any longer, I was gonna lose my shit.

I could vaguely make out my oasis up ahead. It was a faded two-story silhouette of a house that held strong against the blades of wind. One side of the building’s roof had caved in, but it would do for some quick shelter.

I put the sphere into my saddlebags and trudged through the sea of dust with my hoof shielding my eyes. Each step pounded into the dirt as I fought the storm; my jacket sounded like crackling thunder as it flapped behind me.

I felt it before I saw it–the chips of paint and spiderwebs. I guided my hoof down till I found the cold knob. With a groan, I shakily wedged open the door and snuck in.

I took in my new surroundings and wiped off my clothes and bracer. The walls of the hallway used to be white, but decades of fallout had stained them a sickly yellow and brown. Dual staircases stood on both sides of the hall: one rising to a second level, the other descending. The upbeat tone of a radio echoed from a small room to my left. Wooden cabinets containing the old residents’ memorabilia lined every available space. Faded photos of happy ponies hung crooked on the wall. A reminder of what we had. One truly caught my eye, a frozen memory of a group of friends playing in a park. I straightened the frame.

I could almost taste the smell of iron from the stairs. So much for an easy day. “Look, you don’t wanna die and I’m too tired for this.”

“Who the fuck asked?”

Her bloodshot pupils were as sharp as the spikes covering her clothes. The mare happily skipped down the steps to the guitar strum, swinging the double-barrelled shotgun in her magic around like a cane. She was tailed by four other ponies just like her.

“I don’t know anything about you folks, but the BDSM gear is an easy hint.” I sighed.

The group chuckled. “Good one.”

“Whelp–” I pulled my rifle off my back and quickly tongued the trigger. The raiders’ eyes went wide as I cut down two in a flurry of bullets. The mare reacted faster than the remaining two however, leveling her shotgun and blasting with both barrels. Pellets hammered my weapon, knocking it out of my hooves, and part of my chest, the ricocheting rounds pinging upwards, tearing through the side of my face.

I felt my ribs accordion as my body slammed onto the floor. Instincts took over my senses and I drove through the nearest archway. The scent of iron was stronger than before, and I gagged on its musk. Bodies, both whole and carved, took up every available space from tabletops to makeshift wall hooks. A small radio sang on a countertop. It was an orgy of evidence I had landed in their kitchen.

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure he’s alone.” The mare’s voice echoed through the house. “Go get the other cocksuckers!”

Fuck me. I smacked my vest rig and groaned. The smashed pellets fell to the ground with very little fanfare. Whatever was happening in the hallway sounded like a stampede. Galloping closer and closer until…

Nothing.

An eerie silence set in. I pressed my ear up against the drywall, listening for where the raiders had gone. Quiet snaps and clicks came through. I hit the deck as fast as I could.

“Give it to ‘im!”

Bullets ripped and whizzed through the drywall, pinging and slamming into appliances and corpses indiscriminately. A dirty mist engulfed the room. The sound of shell casings bouncing off the floor echoed in an almost sick melodic tone. It felt endless.

Even with the continuous ringing in my ears, I could hear the muffled yelling, “Stop shooting, you fucks!”

The maelstrom slowly died out. I grabbed my knife from my bracer and crept towards the sound of hoofsteps approaching the room. A shaky pistol rounded the corner first, followed by a young stallion.

In a single swift motion, I knocked his pistol to the ground and swung at his throat. The knife whistled with a deadly velocity. The raider’s eyes went wide and he tried to dodge by leaping past, but it only caused me to miss my intended target. It ripped away at the soft flesh where the raider’s upper and lower lips met. A misty glaze began to cloud his eyes as he frantically tried to stop the bleeding. The look twisted into my own heart, but now wasn’t the time. I pushed away the thoughts.

The stallion flung a hoof forward to stop me, kicking wildly. His eyes begged for mercy. I slashed the plea with my knife. His squeals turned to a bubbling gargle as I ripped the blade through his neck. The raider’s movements weakened and his eyes rolled back.

My ears shot up as another set of hooves charged for the room. I left the blade, diving for his pistol and fired two rounds at the first sign of movement. The mare’s head violently whipped back, exploding like an overripe tomato into a red mist that painted the archway.

I took a few quick breaths and then launched myself into the hallway, firing a flurry of shots. The wall and lead mare were riddled with holes. The stallion next to her collapsing body roared, speedily aiming his rusty pipe-rifle directly at me, and tongued the trigger. The weapon offered a soft click.

I smirked. What luck.

I unloaded my pistol at him. Whatever ammunition was in the magazine was shit. Each bullet fell low, hitting his kneecaps and tearing up the floor. He crumpled and the pistol’s slide locked back, prompting the other raiders to charge at me with an assortment of melee weapons. The first, a mare, used her body to whip a magically-held rusty pipe at me. I moved to the side, and the air whooshed as the weapon barely missed.

A second tackled me into one of the large cabinets. The remaining glass and trinkets exploded out and a few picture frames crashed onto the floor below. I choked mid-breath on impact. The shelves crunched under the force. The raider with the pipe was recovering from her commitment to the attack. The mare on me began throwing wild punches at my face. Blood rushed from my mouth and nostrils, drenching the pistol grip still in my teeth.

I let out a growl. I’d had enough. The mare howled in pain as I pressed the glowing barrel into her eye. I could smell the flesh beginning to burn. She wrenched back, losing all balance before falling down the stairwell to the basement. The last raider galloped towards me.

I dodged the first swing of her pipe and slammed my forehead into hers. The mare stumbled. I swung my hoof as hard as I could muster at the raider’s face. I saw a chance to finish the fight, but damn, I should’ve been more cautious. The unicorn snapped into a wild rage. She regained her hoofing just in time to dodge the attack and slam the pipe into my chest. The air in my lungs was forced out along with my pistol. Bursts of tiny sporadic white light danced across my vision as I was knocked to the ground.

She howled and jumped on top of me. We wrestled for control. The mare’s sheer strength completely outclassed my own. I threw up my hooves to protect my face but she didn’t care. She kept pummeling at me. If not my forehooves then my chest and vice versa. Each time I attempted to get up, I was punched right in the muzzle. The raider’s own hooves grew bloodier with each hit.

She pressed down on my throat with both hooves. The world around me began to darken at the edges. I needed a way out. I ran my hooves over the floor for something, anything.

I found it.

Grabbing one of the fallen picture frames, I desperately slammed its sharp edge into the raider’s head. The mare backpedaled off me. I grabbed a shard of broken glass and shanked her. The raider had no time to dodge.

Her face paled with each wet thud to the abdomen. Blood and flesh swam from the wound, burying everything in crimson. I crashed the point of the glass into the side of her neck with a grunt and left it there. The raider’s neck shrunk down as her lifeless body crumbled to the ground. I looked around at the mess I had made, wiping blood off my face.

“Well…”

A crash like thunder came from the basement. Of course he would be there. I grabbed a shotgun off one of the kind corpses and prowled down the stairwell.

Whimpers, candles and cobwebs met me at the bottom of the steps. A young mare wearing a soiled blue and gold suit, embroidered with the number eleven, was tied to a beam in the corner only a few feet away. Behind her was a unicorn with the cutiemark of a brown jug. He held a rusty kitchen knife to her throat with his magic.

“Don’t move,” The stallion asserted in a gravelly voice, kind of like that of a long time smoker. “I don’t give a shit who you are but if you— Wait, you?!“

He dropped like rubble with a single shotgun blast. He grimaced at the stump of mincemeat where his rear leg used to be. The mare was frozen in shock at the display. I couldn’t really put that past somepony like her.

I slowly walked over to the stallion.

“Wa-wa-wait! It’s me–” He screamed before his head painted the ground a new shade of grey matter and blood. Spitting at his corpse and wiping some blood off my face, I dropped the shotgun and plopped my sore ass on the floor. Finally, a chance to relax and breathe.

“You had so much going for you, Happy Hour. Wrong place, wrong time I guess,” I turned to the mare. “Sorry about that. I’ll let you down, just… give me a second here.”

I got up with a groan and untied the young unicorn. The stable dweller stared back with eyes like television static. Fuck me. I was never good at that stuff. I gave her a soft bloody smile.

“Take some time for yourself. I’ll be upstairs when you’re ready to walk to the nearest settlement.”

I stopped mid-turn. She was tugging on my jacket. The mare quietly mumbled something. I cocked my head to one side in response.

“Who… are you?” the mare said in a tiny voice.

“I’m Wildcard,” I paused as the mare glanced at the headless corpse of Happy Hour. “Don’t worry about it, Blue. They’re lost to the Wastes now.”

The stable dweller nodded slowly. She didn’t dare move, but the mare would snap out of it or… it was best not to think of that.

“Well,” I made my way to the stairwell to get my weapons. “I’ll be upstairs.”

======= ☢ =======

My discarded armor rig squeaked and sighed as the steel plate pressed into the side of the couch's soft fabric. I removed my jacket with saddlebags and threw it on top of the stained, washed-out green cushions.

I wandered around the living room to stretch my battered muscles, grunting with each step.
My eyes found a cracked mirror that hung just above the mold-infested stone fireplace. The reflection of reddened, baggy blue eyes filled with drifting pupils looked me up and down. I was covered in caking blood. The ricochet from earlier had ripped three long valleys into my cheek and ear. It burned. I wiped the blood off my muzzle with my hoof, drenching it in more red. Parts of my chest were swollen, a mix of crimson with hints of purple that clashed with tan.

I sifted through my saddlebags, feeling around it until my hoof nudged a small box. I pulled out the orange container with a black cross on its cover and popped it open to find a single remaining white syringe. The lifeblood of every adventurer; or at least, that’s what the chemist who made them said.

I removed the single dose from its protective strap and proceeded to roll it in my hoof. I fucking hate needles. Just that feeling of it penetrating through silently makes my skin crawl. It’s unnerving, but the bliss after is better than the pain now.

Without any hesitation, I closed my eyes, grit my teeth, and injected myself with the needle. My ears sprung erect as I moaned out in pain. “Fucccck…”

My gaze wandered to the boarded windows, and saw nothing through the slits but a world of dirt.

“Of course.” I plopped down next to my jacket and let myself sink into dusty comfort.

I grabbed my rifle and began stripping the weapon, meticulously checking each part. Luckily those pellet marks would be just another scar on its frame; a testament to its mileage. What are the chances of finding parts out here anyways? The stable dweller wandered into the living room as I swiftly reconstructed the rifle.

“How you doing, Blue?” I pulled back the bolt rhythmically to make sure it was clear.

“Why do you call me that?”

I rocked a fully loaded, curved magazine into the rifle. “Just a fun little nickname me and some old friends gave to stable dwellers. Want me to call you something else or is it growing on you?”

The mare paused. “Why are you being so nice? What are you doing?”

“I know this place is completely foreign to you, but thinking the whole world is against you is a little rude, don’t you think?”

Her eyes went wide. “Sorry, my name is Sea Mist.”

“It’s a pleasure.” I gestured to another chair across from me. “I’ve always wanted to visit one of those fancy stables. What was it like? Must have been amazing having actual water and food.”

Sea Mist’s facial expression darkened and she shifted on her hooves. The mare rubbed the top of her pipbuck anxiously. I pressed my lips into a small line, and popped out of the seat to place a hoof on her shoulder. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

The shadows around the living room began to shift and wobble. Unintelligible voices whispered from the cracks all around me. Sea Mist’s horn and eyes had begun to glow a brilliant shade of amaranth. The shade turned to formless pale jade eyes.

“It’s time to go home.”

The phrase echoed.

The air was sharp and thick. Each breath was harder than the last. I felt my throat constrict. The area warped with each blink. An endless tunnel with unusual, total, absolute darkness. A pony cracked a flare that hardly illuminated the path ahead. Like a porous sponge, the shroud ate greedily at the light. A sea of bodies rushed towards them and the few ponies behind them. I couldn’t see their faces.

“It was an honor, comrades.” The lead pony’s voice rang out.

My eyes ached as the shadows warped again. A lone pony sat in front of me. Their chest slowly raised and lowered. The mask they wore was shattered. Their eyes were hazy. We both coughed up blood. Was I dying?

“Stalker… what have you done?”

I ripped my hoof away and dropped to my knees. I greedily sucked in as much air as possible. I ran my hooves through my mane trying to calm my heart. There was no blood, no pain. My body didn’t agree with me.

I stared at Sea Mist. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It just—” She collapsed into a mess of rambling and hyperventilating.

I thought I was gonna be sick. The world continued to spin. I pressed myself up with a groan. “What kind of magic was that?!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Sea Mist kept repeating.

I smashed my hoof down and roared, “Fucking chill out!”

She whimpered into a ball. My brain felt like it was being crushed.

“Sea Mist, tell me what you just did or I’m leaving your ass here. Okay?”

“Okay…o-okay,” The young unicorn began rubbing the top of her pipbuck again. “I saw your thread.”

A flurry of blinks was all I could’ve responded with.

“I felt who you were…” Sea Mist took a long pause. “And who you will be.”

I squinted. “I’m sorry, but could speak in Ponish please?”

“I am!”

“Well, that doesn’t explain what I saw.” I started putting my gear back on. The jacket slid on quickly. I tightened the vest to my chest at the shoulders and hips. Sea Mist was just looking up at me, wide eyed.

“What?”

“That’s not supposed to happen…” The young mare blinked.

“Well,” I peeked out the boarded window. The dust and wind were slowing down. The storm was finally settling. “That’s not a phrase I like.”

“Could I come with you to Stalliongrad?”

She said what? She shouldn’t know that… couldn’t know that. I slung my rifle onto my back. I should’ve left–no, I should’ve definitely– left the crazy mare, but… something intrigued me.

“Why?”

Sea Mist’s eyes sparkled a little. “It just feels like the right thing to do.”

“No.”

“You won’t stop me.”

“Watch m—“

“You want to understand your dreams and you feel like home is the only place to find answers,” She calmly interjected.

That’s a lot of red flags, but she wasn’t wrong… that’s what scared me. But a shaman this far out? No. I needed to know more.

“Sure, but this ain’t gonna be sunshine and rainbows, Blue.”

“My name is Sea Mist.” She scrunched her muzzle.

I grinned. “I know.”

I walked over to the door with her in tow. Stepping over the fresh worm food in the hallway, Sea Mist tried her best not to look down. I cracked open the doorway and looked out at the wasteland ahead. Directly on the horizon to the east was a city of towering buildings bathed in a soft green, sickly glow. One day I would have to visit. To the south, Canterlot’s glory was still visible. Its pink glow shone brightly even from here.

Finally, I glanced to the north and saw Stalliongrad; home. A mass of dark grey clouds hovered over the dead city, dumping endless waves of snow and leaving the visible buildings covered with a thick layer of frost and ice. Even the desolate area surrounding the city was covered with frozen water. Tiny winged beasts were circling around the city’s few last standing skyscrapers. From within Stalliongrad limits, a bright cyan beam of light pierced through the sky above.

I let out a long sigh as I began making my way towards the city. Towards home. But something still didn’t sit right with me. What I saw with the spell didn’t scare me. It’s what I felt.

Cold.

Loneliness.

My gut twisted at the thought.

Was I gonna die?