Fallout Equestria: Endless Horizon

Chapter 13: Red Haze pt.1

Goooood morning wasteland, this is DJ pon3 coming at you loud and proud from the heart of Manehattan! The sun is blinding, the food is stale, and the air is humid as all hell, but it’s home.

Today we’ll be starting off the morning with a special report! The daring Captain of the West has been working her feathers off to make the GTA a better place. Joining us now via a remote uplink from the heart of Trottingham itself is one Miss Clarinet, who’s seen the hippogriff hero’s deeds first hoof! Everyone put your hooves together for Manehattan’s very own Clarinet.

“G-good morning… wasteland. I’m Clarinet. Years ago my husband and I were attacked by a manticore. We were wounded, and I was dying. Rather than waste medicine on me, I insisted he used it to save himself. I was willing to die knowing he’d survive to care for our foals.

“By some miracle, I didn’t die. A small group of travellers found me, dying in the dirt. They treated my wounds. They didn’t act out of kindness, though. I should have known better than to expect a gift from the wasteland. I was collared and shackled, and forced to work. I tried to hold out hope, but I knew no one would come for me… The only pony that would, thought I was dead.

“So I lived the life of a slave. Quiet, obedient. Doing what it took to avoid the harsher beatings and punishments while I was sold from Master to Master. Most recently I was owned by a more forgiving than average Master, working in a bathhouse in Caledonia. Eventually, the bucks lost interest in me though. Few mares get more beautiful with age, after all… I was sold and sent north with a caravan. Me, ponies from other owners, a few foals, and this one mare…

“She was different from us. Recently caught, but not new to the life. Her scarred hide told of endless suffering to the whips and blades of former masters. It was almost uncomfortable to look at, honestly. Despite it all though, she had this fire in her eyes. A determination that I couldn’t even imagine anymore. It was written on her face. She was going to escape again. Anyone else wouldn’t stand a chance, but her… I knew she’d do it. She proved me right.

“One evening she got whipped for muttering to one of those annoying sprite bots when we were supposed to be asleep. When we got up the next day she was gone, along with her collar’s detonator. Of course, the slavers were pissed, passing blame and making excuses. They knew how bad it could get. Not being able to catch the lone mare was the least of their worries. Seeing her escape gave us hope. She’d get help and come back to save us. Or at least make the slavers suffer. I was sure of it. So I made sure we were ready when she did.”

“When she returned, it was with the help of The Captain. The genius bird-pony had built something to jam up all the slave collars, and made our liberator invisible so she could sneak us weapons. The slavers were so busy looking out for enemies they didn’t see us coming. The roar of gunfire lasted mere seconds.

“The Captain offered to fly us somewhere safe in her skyship. When we refused, the duo at least made sure we had enough supplies to make the trip ourselves. I’d never seen such a selfless act of kindness before. Like the heroes on the radio. I think the goddess themselves sent those two to liberate us.”

It must be difficult to adapt to life in the wasteland after so long in chains. What do you plan to do with your newfound freedom?

“I plan… to go home. If my children are listening… I know it’s been a long time, but I’m returning to Tenpony Tower once I’ve saved enough money. I’d be the happiest mother in the wasteland if you were there when I arrived. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long… Mommy’s finally coming home.”

If that isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard, you gotta clean the radioactive sludge out of your ears. This is the difference we can make for one another, my little ponies. Even a single kind act, no matter how small, can make all the difference. Good on you, Captain. Keep fighting the good fight for those who can’t.

*** *** ***

The rest of the meeting was spent discussing our last two jobs for the Visionaries. Prime was happy with the work we’d done for the city and excited about the new settlement in the area. He’d even promised to put the word out so caravans could start out that way. Scarlet insisted that he shouldn’t push the young settlement to join his coalition, and surprisingly he agreed. Even if he tried, I was sure Lucky and his pegasi were smart enough not to party up with the first faction that came knocking.

That evening I curled into my bed with my Scootaloo plushie held tight against me. The meeting left me exhausted and confused. Conflicted. The conversation went better than I could have hoped. It challenged everything I thought I knew about the mysterious leader of Vision. He seemed like he truly had everyone's best interests at heart and he was doing what he felt was best for his people. The smooth confidence in his voice was impossibly convincing.

I didn’t trust him.

I’d already been stabbed in the back, and I wasn’t willing to go through it again. I trusted Scarlet more than anyone. She didn’t trust him, so I didn’t either. Still, I had to admit she could be biased... The anger she felt towards him, the way he spoke with her… They were close once. Whatever drove them apart left Scarlet too wounded to even tell me that they were together.

Sky said we didn’t need to trust him to work with him. The buck was right, of course. But I didn’t want to risk helping him if it could lead to more creatures being hurt. It made me afraid. Terrified that whatever I did to reach my goals would cause unforeseen harm to innocent people. So far he’d only harmed raiders or hostile factions. Maybe that’s where it stopped. Maybe he kept his word and tried to do better.

But if he didn’t—if he used the technology and valuables hidden below to seize power in the region—he could force local holdouts to ally with the Visionaries or be destroyed. They had already enforced their idea of just laws across the Greater Trottingham Area with deadly force. I nuzzled into the softness of my pillow and let out a long high-pitched shriek. It didn’t solve anything, but it was cathartic.

I wasn’t good at people! I didn’t like dealing with people! But there I was, having a meeting with local politicians! The leader of the region's superpower! He spoke to me as if I was important, and knew what I was doing. What would happen when he found out that I was just some neurodiverse griffon technician who lies to her friends about something as stupid as her rank!

The weight of it all was crippling.

At least I had some time to myself. Time to process and rest. Scarlet was filling in Free and Jasmine on everything, including our next “gig.” There was no set pay, but Prime assured us he’d figure out something. Of course, I didn’t care much about that part. Our saddle bags were already filled with caps thanks to your last job, plus the PipBuck and recollector. Once the next job was done I’d be able to use the crown-like artifact to view the memory orb Prime was practically holding over me.

I idly tugged at strands of hair or the odd feather, finding what comfort I could in the repetitive action. It was a bad habit which led to me losing perfectly good pinions or thinning areas of my mane, but it wasn’t the worst thing I could be doing. Every so often Sky’s mind would brush against mine to check in on me.

I was fine. Of course, I was fine. We’d been well-fed and well-paid. We figured out a resolution to our problem. Sure, I was stressed, tired, and annoyingly sober, but that was nothing a trip to the market wouldn’t fix.

*** *** ***

Wandering through the MoM hub/marketplace was less therapeutic than I’d hoped. The anxious glares of shopping ponies bored into me as I trotted past. My ears twitched toward every judgmental whisper or fearful mutter about the “halfbreed” that had the city shaken up. They didn’t see me as the hero the radio tried to paint me as. At least that was something we all agreed on… I was just a young creature fighting to save her people.

The merchants would still trade with me, but small talk was laboured and they kept their guard up the whole time. For some reason, the prices were quite firm for my own shopping, despite everyone around me being free to barter.

A ball of blue metal brushed against my side, accompanied by a soft rumble. I smiled and patted the little sprite bot with a wing. He’d insisted on coming with me on my shopping to keep its optics on me. The self-assigned emotional support bot had noticed my mind drifting. He chirped out an inquiring beep. “I’m fine, Rumble. Thank you. I just, um…”

The sudden cry of “Miss Captain Aella Breeze!” cut me off as a cannonball of white and green blasted into my side. The excited giggles of my filly assailant made me smile as we both to the floor. Snowflake smirked proudly as her earth pony strength allowed her to best ‘The Captain’ with little effort. Caramel Kiss followed behind her, wearing a similar but far sweeter smile. The reality was the mirror image of the little fluff poised at my side, only larger and more weathered.

High-pitched squeals of excitement fired into my ears like a machine gun. “I-heard-you-were-back-from-your-adventures-and-mom-said-we-could-come-to-visit-when-the-inn-wasn’t-busy-but-now-here-you-are!”

Caramel chuckled at the cute antics of her smaller clone. “Slow down, Snowy. Even I can hardly understand you when you’re going off that fast.” She gently guided her foal off my chest, alleviating the suffering in my lungs. “Sorry Aella, she was excited to see you. Especially after that little show you put on yesterday. You really do know how to make an entrance.”

The unusual praise made my cheeks burn. “O-oh, yeah… I guess everyone in town saw that. Most ponies aren't as happy about it as you two.” My smile melted away as I rubbed the back of my head with a claw. “Do you maybe… know anywhere more diverse I could shop?”

The foal stomped her hoof on the marble bellow and gasped. “Mom, mom, mom! Can I take Miss Captain to Outcast’s Edge!? It’s so much more fun there and she’s gonna fit right in!”

The foal's parent furrowed her brow as she considered it. “I don’t like you venturing off far on your own… But you would have Aella with you. Alright, you can go. But you stay with Aella, and you do as she says! Things are dangerous lately for little ones, and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”

Snowy grumbled as her mom leaned down to nuzzle her, being sure to plant plenty of kisses on the foal's forehead and muzzle as she went. “M-mom… Stop, you’re embarrassing me!” the daughter complained between fits of giggles.

Once the filly was free of parental torment, she turned back toward me, bouncing with excitement. “So Aella, you wanna go!? It’ll be great, and you’re strong so you can keep us safe!” Several patrons from a nearby eatery looked up in response to the filly’s shouting.

“That sounds lovely, Snowflake. It’ll be our own little adventure. I… tend to get lost going out into the city on my own, so I appreciate the help.”

Snowflake threw her hooves around my neck in a tight hug, still giggling away. Meanwhile, her mother fixed me with a hard stare from over her shoulder. “Aella, you protect that filly with your life, alright? I know how ‘heroes’ tend to attract trouble. That little girl is my world. Promise me you’ll protect her.”

I gave the protective mother a firm nod. “Of course. As long as I stand I’ll do anything in my power to keep her safe. I swear.” Keeping promises and pacts was important to my people, not unlike our griffon cousins' strict adherence to their contracts. Giving someone your word was everything.

“Ok.” Caramel smiled hesitantly. “Then you two have fun. I’m going to check on the shop. Feel free to come visit anytime, dear. Always happy to see more of you....” The mare winked, putting an unusual emphasis on the word ‘more’.

My wings fluttered happily. “Perfect, I really appreciate it. You’re one of the nicest ponies I’ve met in this town, I think.”

She fluttered her eyes at me. “Trust me, sweetheart, you have no idea how ‘nice’ I can be.” I gasped as the mare leaned closer to nuzzle me. She sighed contently as she pressed her muzzle into my neck. She smelled just like her name… I wasn’t sure why she kept herself buried in my neck for so long, but I didn’t mind. After a minute or two, she stepped away. “Anyway, I have to get back to The Moon. Have fun, and be safe.

I gave her an eager nod and turned my attention back to the foal. “Hey Snowflake, we should get going. It’s already starting to get late, and I’m sure your mother doesn’t want you out all night.”

Snow pulled out of the hug and gave a mischievous grin. “In that case… Race ya!” Like a bullet from a gun, the foal darted between my legs and towards the exit. I giggled and shouted after her as I moved to follow the energetic child.

*** *** ***

The sun was setting over Trottingham as we entered Outcasts Edge. Most ponies called the zebra- and griffon-populated district city “the slums,” and it was easy to see why. It was a far cry from what I’d seen of the city so far. The district had probably been nice when it was first built. The buildings had good frames, and the water pipes trailing beside the gravel road had definitely been manufactured sometime after the war. Tragically, years of neglect had left it exposed to the full fury of wasteland weather. The iron that made up the ramshackle buildings was rusting away, behind gaping holes and jagged edges that were sure to give someone lockjaw. The tattered and hastily-patched wires struggled to carry power to the cluster of buildings, no doubt causing constant brownouts and power surges.

Being near so much in need of repair left me oddly stressed. Anxious. The dishevelled neighbourhood was crying out for someone to give it some love and time, but none of the griffons or zebras could hear it. They just sat outside chatting or moved back and forth carrying goods. They went about their day as if the place that kept them warm and safe wasn’t suffering. At best there was an odd tarp over a large hole, or crude welds holding together water pipes. I could almost imagine what the place had been like when it was first built. It wasn’t as nice as home, but it was sturdy, well-maintained, and well-designed. I could see it so clearly I managed to forget how broken down it was, until the filly leading me stopped in front of a particular steel shack.

“This is the place! The Slum Shack!” Snowflake said with a wave of her hoof. “For all the neat and weird stuff you could want. Plus, the owners are super nice!”

The filly giggled as I ruffled her emerald mane. “Sounds like the perfect place for me, then. Great job, silly filly. “ I praised as we trotted through the pleasantly intact metal door.

The Slum Shop was… aptly named. A larger-than-average steel box loaded with below-average mismatched goods. Lots of scrap, with some food or basic weapons here or there. The back of the store was divided into two workspaces. The right side was a mess of tool cabinets, workbenches, and metalworking equipment. A griffon not much older than me hunched over a workbench, doing some kind of upgrade on a zebra carbine. It was a beautiful slim rifle, sporting black and white stripes along the receiver and a classic wooden stock. The muzzle grip was in the process of being swapped out for a claw handle. The hen's rump wiggled back and forth as she focused on getting the trigger back into place.

A secured cabinet behind her showed off various weapons that’d been tweaked and modified. A long rifle with a custom barrel and scope, an energy sniper, a pistol that used shells far larger than it should, and a variety of equine and avian battle saddles.

The left side of the room was centred around a brewing station, with a lab table set against the wall behind it. Shelves flanked the table, meticulously organized with expensive and exotic herbs and tinctures with names I couldn’t pronounce. On the wall hung a pair of brilliant ornate masks, one made of ivory and the other from wood, both with zebra glyphs carved on the cheeks. There was something calming and safe in the way their empty eye holes watched over the shop, like sleepless sentries.

A zebra smiled at me from behind their brewing stand, bringing a mixture of orange muck to a boil. Thin curving lines streaked down their sides, and towards their muzzle. Whatever they were cooking left the air bitter and slightly sweet. The shop was otherwise empty, which I expected—it was pretty late. Despite the late hour, the two crafts creatures were still hard at work, with no signs of stopping anytime soon. Just like me when I worked… Instantly I knew I’d like these creatures.

“Good evening Captain, it is nice to finally meet you,” the zebra chimed as they stepped away from their brewing and sauntered next to the busy griffon. The zebra bumped their flank against the larger creature with a smirk. “I believe this is the part where you pay up, dear Gracy.” They sang.

The griffon, Gracy, rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I know, I know… I lose often enough to know the damn drill. How in the hell do you always win!?” Despite the hen's apparent annoyance she tucked the zebra into her wing and gave them an affectionate nuzzle. The two turned towards me, still leaning on one another. “We bet on how long it’d take the newest outcast to find their way to the shop. I will say, I’m rarely this happy to be wrong…” The griffon purred softly as her eyes explored my every curve.

“Now now, dearest, you are scaring the poor thing. I am quite sure she has other things on her mind than your fine feathered flank. I am Orella, and this is my girlfriend Grace. Welcome to the Slum Shop.” Orella turned their attention to the foal at my side. “And hello to you, little one! Lovely to see you again. Under the watchful eye of The Captain this evening?” they asked.

Snowflake cantered up to the pair and hugged them both. Apparently, they all knew each other quite well. “Yeah! She wanted somewhere not boring to shop, and mom said I could take her here!”

“Ahh, I see! Thank you for the extra business. And helping me win our bet.” They winked to their mate. “I have some fresh candies over by the canned goods if you wanna go look.” The mention of candy sent Snowflake running down the nearest aisle, leaving me alone with the two sales creatures.

“Please, it’s just Aella. Aella Breeze,” I corrected. “I-igh” Crap, was there something I needed? I was distracted by the adorable flirty couple in front of me. Come on Aella, get it together! “I mostly just wanted to get out, honestly. Maybe pick up something to drink. Shopping in the Ministry of Moral building made me feel kinda awkward…” I confessed. “Why’d you give your store such a terrible name?”

My blunt honesty made Grace throw her head back with laughter. Orella just raised their eyebrow at me. After the griffon calmed down from her laughing she explained. “We know how bad the name sounds. We meant for it to suck.” She shrugged as if that explained everything.

Orella’s giggle confused me further. “We could not agree on a name we both equally loved, so we chose a name that was equally hated. A compromise, see?”

That… almost made sense. Zebra logic is complicated, and I wasn’t the best at understanding relationship dynamics or social situations. I nodded slowly. “That’s… cute? I’m not sure how to react to that, but I’m glad it made both of you happy!”

“So, whatcha needing griff… pony-person? May as well get some stuff if you’re here anyway.” Grace sauntered up in front of me and tugged gently at the collar of my barding, then tapped on a few of the light plates protecting my chest. I did my best to ignore the breath on my neck as she studied my patchworked outfit. “The fabric of your utility barding is pretty worn, I’m not sure how much more it’ll take. The plates are too light, too… Obviously, you can’t have too much weight, since you’ve gotta fly. But we don’t want a round punching through your barrel, either. The patterning under your collar is cute, though. Shame to cover it up.” She winked.

“N-not today, thanks,” I squeaked as I backed away from the eccentric griffon in my personal space. I wasn’t sure before, but she was definitely flirting with me. What is it with pretty griffons lately!? Stop being pretty and smelling like orchids! I couldn’t get involved with someone so soon after turning down Scarlet, even if it was just sexual. “A-and thanks, um, it’s actually a burn scar. Goes across my chest and down my left side. I should probably pick up some food and stuff while I’m here. Maybe some chems…”

My train of thought derailed as a ball of fuzz bonked into my side. It was Snowflake, looking up with the sweetest puppy dog eyes as a bag of sweets hung from her muzzle. “Miss Captain Aella Breezzzeeeee, I wanna buy this candy for mommy and me but I didn’t bring enough.” Somehow her eyes got even wider. The foal’s weaponized cuteness hit with deadly precision, making it impossible to say no.

I smiled and pulled a small bag of caps from my saddlebag. We got paid a lot for the last few jobs, and I probably wasn’t going to spend most of my share anyway. I had no idea how much candy she could buy with 50 caps, but the bright smile and excited giggles of the filly were priceless. “Don’t eat it all at once, alright? And save some for your mother.” Snowflake balanced the money on her head perfectly as she galloped to the register, Grace following slowly behind her.

Unsure about what I was thinking before the interruption, my mind wandered back to the beautifully crafted masks watching me from the back wall. They weren’t perfectly crafted by any means, covered in scratches, dents, and scuffs. Each was a part of their history and made them all the more beautiful. I swore I could feel something coming off of them, some kind of magic or luminescence on the edge of perception. Somehow the mask was putting out a protective aura that muddled my sixth sense.

Orella watched me study the relics with a smile. My wings fluttered a bit as I turned toward them. “Sorry, I was just admiring your masks... They were used by an actual shaman, weren’t they?” I sat back on my haunches as I asked, my eyes drawn back to them. I’d seen similar masks hung up on a few doorsteps back home and learned about them in school, but none of them felt like this.

“Yes. My great-grandmother was a gifted shaman. She gave everything she was to help our people. The mask has been passed down through my family since.” They chuckled as they thought back on the nostalgia. “My grandmother believed a part of her mother was left behind in the objects to watch over us. How did you know?”

“It… I can feel it.”

The zebra raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know how to explain, I um… I can just feel it sometimes. Magic, or energy, or something. It weakened as I aged, but since coming to Equestria it’s… easier? It’s like… fixing a spark reactor!” The comparison only served to confuse me more. “It’s like… fixing one is hard because all of the crystals need to get along with each other to work. But rebuilding one you can use any parts you want! There aren’t parts that have already gotten comfortable in the way. I felt something coming off of the mask… It’s this muted, calming energy.”

The zebra thought for a moment. “You mean that because there’s so little living magic in Equestria, it is easier to feel what is there? Less of a needle in a haystack, more of a needle in a cushion?” I smiled and nodded. Weird comparison, but whatever worked for them.

“This sounds familiar… An irregular griff in a strange land. A moment, please.” The zebra trotted to a small bookshelf at the edge of their workplace, humming as they went. They returned and dropped a heavy, leatherbound tomb onto the table. The cover was engraved with the familiar symbol of three coloured circles overlapping each other, with a trident in the center.

I knew that book. I owned that book! My sister had read it to me as a fledgling. Times Before Storms. “That’s our history…” I said slowly. They nodded at me with a smile. “It’s about our magic, our spirituality, our past, our future... Where did you get this?”

“Pfft, you think you are the first horse-bird-fish-critter to come crawling through Vision, Captain?” They tsked. “A hippogriff mare came through many years ago, I bought it from her. Cost over 3000 caps, but was worth it. The book describes creatures who can channel the power of a great spirit your people hold dear. Are you like that?”

I fidgeted with my hair and sighed. “Yes. W-well no… It’s complicated. Scrawls are born with the knowledge and a connection to Runa. It allows us to use and understand her magic. I was born with the knowledge, I have the capacity to use magic, but I’m not… connected to her. I can’t control it. No one is sure why. I do have a stronger arcane sense than basically any other griff, so that’s… neat, but likely unrelated. Most Scrawls can’t feel things how I can.”

“Mm. Arcane sense.” The zebra muttered softly to themself as they flipped through the book.

“Um, anyway, I don’t like to think about it. Can we maybe see about my ‘supplies’? I’ve gotta get Snowflake home soon. I know things aren’t the safest around here lately, and I swore to keep her safe.” I smiled over my shoulder at the cute filly giggling with the griffon shopkeeper.

Orella laughed under their breath. “Of course, I am sorry. Supplies we have, young Captain. We will see that you’re well taken care of for your adventures and your downtime.” They pulled down various bottles and tins from their shelf as they spoke. “You seem quite good with the filly. You would make a wonderful mother.” The sudden comment sent a knife into my heart. A wave of dizzying nausea threatened to overtake me. Pain pushed away the sudden anxiety as I dug a claw into my side, and steadied myself. The subject of having kids struck harder than I thought it could. I’d never even really wanted kids to begin with... Or maybe I just simply told myself that because I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Orella backpedalled at the sudden change in my demeanour. “I’m so sorry, I did not mean for that to be upsetting. I hadn’t considered… I simply meant-”

“N-no, it’s ok,” I interrupted to reassure them. My anxiety had mostly melted away, but the pain in my side helped keep me from tearing up. I almost did that thing again. The stupid thing where I waste time crying over something that can’t be helped. Wasting Orella and Snowflake's time with my own insignificant emotions.

“I-it’s fine, really. I was purified when I was young, so I’ve had a long time to come to terms with being sterile. I’ve come to terms with it.”

“Purified? What do you mean?” Orella asked in an almost parental tone. Noooo, don’t do that! I’m trying not to cry as it is, kind zebra creature!

“When someone has an ailment that risks staining the bloodline, it’s removed. Either through euthanasia, so their space in the population can be filled by someone who will grow to be more useful, or through sterilization if it’s something that can be corrected in that instance but shouldn’t be passed on. We need to keep what population we have pure, so they can function as efficiently as possible. Like throwing away the bad machines so we can put our energy into the good ones. It’s how we survive.” They didn’t understand my way of life. They probably couldn’t. Things were different back home than in the zebra lands or Equestria. I had just as much trouble trying to understand how Equestrian ponies did things, so it made sense.

“Living beings are not machines, Aella Breeze. To end a life without ever giving it a chance to bloom, for fear it will be different from you… It is cruel. I’d never expect such an act from a people that value life and balance so much.”

“It’s this way because we value life. If taking one infant's life can spare a dozen grown creatures, then it’s for the best. Not everyone agrees, of course… My father thinks that it’s wrong. Mother and the elders wanted to cull me because my brain is… different. Father got some prototype neural link from the weird tech he collected and claimed it would correct me. Mother was furious when she found out he lied, but by then I was too old… Anyway, it’s just our way. It’s the sacrifices we make for our people.”

“None of that makes it alright, Aella…”

Yeah, maybe… Or maybe me being alive when I was supposed to be dead was why my magic didn’t work right. Why I’d never grow to be the smart, powerful scrawl mother wanted. Because I wasn’t meant to exist at all.

The zebra let out a dry chuckle as they continued. “I wonder if they see the irony. The one they wanted to kill as a baby is the one fighting to save them all. They do not deserve you.”

I had no idea what to say to that. Or how to feel about it. It became another thing for me to push down while I kept moving forward. I sighed. “Let’s just get what I need so I can get Snowflake home…”

*** *** ***

Trotting through the energy-sapping air was annoyingly familiar. Any light from our spells or flashlights was swallowed up by the red dust that danced around us. The Pre-Store made us resistant to its magical effects, but it was still suffocating. Without face coverings, it’d still do a number on our lungs.

The first level of the MoA bunker was of no interest. According to Harmony, Prime's right-hand griff, it was used as storage until it was sealed. They couldn’t access the energy grid from the top level, and it consisted mostly of storage areas or long-dead server stacks. Ignoring the mummified bodies strewn across the floor was difficult, and made me queasy with each passing glance. Most of them were piled against the door we entered though, fighting to free themselves ‘til their last breaths. Worn paint and bloody hoofprints suggested they bucked and scratched at the door with everything they had. Of course, pony hooves were no match for a slab of steel under 5000 pounds of hydraulic pressure. The terrible magic in the air sapped every scrap of energy they could produce, forcing them to metabolize themselves to death. The bodies were skin and bone, with blood dried around every orifice. They couldn’t even rot. No bacteria could survive in the toxic stew long enough to start decomposition.

Everyone down there was like that. All but one. While the rest had been running for the door, this one died alone in a room, off to the side. The torso was laid across the doorway, preventing the door from closing entirely. It pressed into her back to make a noticeable divot where her spine snapped. Her talons were stretched towards the bodies near the exit door. Her beak hung open in a silent scream. Her coat was greyer, and thin as a stick bug, but I knew who it was. Her PipBuck was on the Skystar V. It was the body of June Berry. Karma's mother.

I’d known the mare for as long as I’d been alive. She was close with my father, a member of his flock. She was strong, fast, and could shoot a jackalope’s eye out from a kilometre away. Most importantly, she was kind. I would spend the night at her house when my parents were fighting more than usual and she always made sure I was comfortable. She deserved better.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as Scarlet nuzzled my neck. I appreciated that she was trying to comfort me, but I didn’t feel I needed it. I wasn’t sad or hurt, or… anything. I was happy to have known her, and glad to have found her. I’d be able to put her to rest. She and Karma could be together. But first, we had to clear the air.

“The rest of these poor bastards were over at the door, but she was on her own in this room.” Sky noted as he and Free trotted over, their security sweep finished. “Maybe something good inside?”

I rubbed my eyes through my goggles and sniffled (for not-feeling-sad reasons) as Scarlet stepped away. “That’s a good question. Let’s find out.” I started towards the door. There was definitely something in there. The hair on my neck stood on end as I felt weirdly familiar energy emanating from the room beyond. Harmony had asked me not to look around too much, but the sweet griffon's request wasn’t as strong as the unparalleled magic secured behind the hydraulic door.

With everything Scarlet and Jasmine told us about the Visionaries, it wasn’t hard to guess what it was. The door opened up to my greatest fear. A large circular chamber, with angular walls decorated in gems, wires, spell matrices and unusual glyphs. The floor sloped downwards towards the centre to the base of an elevated platform large enough for a pony. Four pedestals were set facing the middle, perfectly aligned with the points on my EFS compass. Even dormant, the energy flowing from the terrifying work of arcane science was a struggle to process. It was destructive and daunting, designed for the sole purpose of ending as many lives as quickly as possible.

A megaspell chamber. An honest to Accord megaspell chamber. The superweapon they used to enforce their rule on the entire region, and protect its people. Whether by luck or misfortune the Visionaries had been cut off from the powerful weapon. Until our task was done, then… Could I justify returning a weapon of unknown power and function to the city? The power to kill countless creatures to improve the lives of dozens?

Sky patted my shoulder as I stared in at the deadly machine. “It isn’t like they fire it off for shits and giggles or anything. They use it to keep people in line. Or in self-defence. It’ll be fine. If they do use it, the target will probably deserve it. As long as the target isn’t us, it isn’t our problem.”

“It’s really a megaspell chamber…” The unicorn behind us whispered in awe. “We… I don’t want Prime to have this. No creature should have this much power. Still… Shit, I don’t know what to do here…” Her shoulders slumped as she tried to wrap her head around it.

“I agree with Sky,” Free said to everyone's surprise. “The enclave ruled using similar threats of force. It’s unfair but effective. However…” He turned towards me with a solemn look. “You don’t need to figure this out now. Let’s just focus on the task at hoof for now.” The buck's military-trained mind saw the situation differently than we did. We all had different and conflicting perspectives on the situation.

I stepped away from the door and fluffed my wings with a sigh. “No… No, you’re right…” I muttered softly. “But what if… Free, what if we leave this here and they use it? The death that follows will be our fault.” My fault.

“If they use it, they use it. It wouldn’t be our fault, Aella. We can’t control other ponies' actions, and it isn’t our job to police the wasteland. We do what we can with the information we have, and we deal with the consequences as they come.”

*** *** ***

“Your people came here years ago, searching for information on the Single Pegasus Project. Beyond that, they refused to answer our questions. Prime only let them through because their advanced PipBucks were able to breach the security door.” Harmony and I sat in a somewhat stuffy office in the MoA building.

The briefing filled in some blanks and confirmed my suspicions, but they had no idea where my people went after Vision. When I asked about my mother the griffon simply shrugged. Only a few of them interacted with the public, and they only used their designations. The griffon continued, “It took them three days to breach the door, something we couldn’t do in years. A haze of red flooded the room when it opened. They reacted instantly, fleeing for cover and drinking strange potions. They lost one hippogriff, and only because she’d been off on her own when it happened. Of course, we recovered the late June Berry’s equipment a few years ago, at the cost of three more lives… We never made it deeper inside, so we only know a bit about what was worked on.”

The confused emotions that wrestled in my stomach made me regret having such a heavy breakfast. Whenever family came up it got a little harder to rein in the mess of feelings I had about my parents. Impossible expectations, care and guidance, bitter resentment, sacrificing themselves trying to make our lives better. Abandoning us.

The brief moment of weakness was enough for my face to betray my feelings. Harmony stared at me with an expression almost as sad as I felt. I tensed as she reached over and rested her claw on mine. “Aella… It isn’t a bad thing to let yourself feel these things. I know you don’t feel you have the time to sort through them, but you need to make the time. It’s going to eat you up inside. And things aren’t going to get better. This is the wasteland. It’s going to pile more shit on you than you can imagine. You can’t let it drown you.”

I knew that. Obviously, I knew that! But I had to focus on helping my people! They needed me! How could I even consider putting my own mental well-being above the survival of my species!?

Harmony squeezed my talons in hers and sighed. “Please, stop. It isn’t healthy to do that, putting it all on yourself. It isn’t fair, either. You’re young. This is an insane amount of stress for you to-”

“Enough!” I snapped and pulled away from her grip. She just… She didn’t understand, she couldn’t! It had to be on me, I was all there was! Just as the knot of emotions in my chest reached critical mass, the energy dissipated enough for me to force it all back inside. I looked at the griffon across from me through narrowed eyes. “Enough… Enough. We’re getting off track. This is a briefing, not a therapy session. Mind your own business and tell me about this stupid job, please.” I wrapped my wings around myself. Nuzzling into their softness gave me something positive to focus on, grounding me.

The griffon’s frown deepened, but she agreed. “Yeah… That’s fine. I guess I got off track… I’ve gotten used to taking care of everyone around here I guess... Anyway, we think the ash is coming from the third level. Some shipping manifests suggest they were working with some volatile and rare magical materials. If you can contain or disable the source and activate the air talisman, we can do the rest.” Harmony rubbed her wrist nervously and paused. “There is… One more thing. Whatever you find down there… You didn’t find it. Advanced weapons, megaspell systems we didn’t know about. Understand?”

I shook my head, completely blind to whatever subtext had been communicated. “I don’t understand.”

“If you find a megaspell array in the lower levels, disable it. I know the means that Prime used to maintain order were necessary, but I don’t want us to take it any further. More weapons will make public relations worse. The followers are hesitant to deal with us, and the NRC sees us as opposition. I want The Visionaries to be a group creatures respect, not fear.

My eyes widened as my brain finally caught up.“You’re asking me to betray Prime for you? For his own good? Wouldn’t that breach your contract?” I heard Harmony was Prime's dearest friend and most trusted advisor. A griffon breaking a contract was already unheard of, but to break a contract with a friend? Thinking about it made my head hurt.

“I swore to him that I’d do whatever it took to protect our friends and our city, and he swore the same. It’s an open contract. No strict terms or conditions. We work for each other, and for the city. I’m doing what I think is best for the city, even if Prime wouldn’t agree. That’s why I’m briefing you myself. My contract is unbroken, and the one I’m offering in no way conflicts with the one Prime has given you and your friends. I know you’re a good person. The horrors of the wasteland make your heart ache as much as mine. Please, do this for me.”

I picked at the table as I thought it over. She wanted real peace. A fresh start for the city. How could someone so hopeful and kind turn a blind eye to the ponies who were suffering in the city's shadow? I had to know.

She winced when I asked her about it. “The forced labour was supposed to be temporary…” she explained solemnly, her shoulders slumped.. Regret flowed from her every pore. “It grew out of control. It was supposed to give them a purpose and let them work to shorten their sentence. In the blink of an eye, it crumpled. No one could stop it. Without a plan for how to care for them and keep the city lit, Prime wouldn’t even put it to vote. Of course, he had his own ideas to fix it…

“A few blast charges in the hills by the rail line to divert a group of wasteland adventurers in the right direction, and the carriage pulled itself. He wanted all of you to find the skeletons in his closet because he knew Scarlet would clean them out. He has a lot of issues with trust. He’d rather pull everyone's strings than simply ask for help. He’s a good pony deep down. He’s just been through so much…”

I was more conflicted about Prime than ever. He was smart, well prepared, and very put together. He cared about the lives of those in the Visionary Coalition and beyond his borders. But his willingness to do whatever it took to maintain control and order over the area was a problem. He manipulated us by nearly burying his own train! He left his prisoners in horrid conditions, to be tortured by his own staff. From one perspective he was a wasteland hero, protector of the innocent. From another, a deceptive slaver who believed the ends justify the means. Like Red Eye from The Book of Littlepip, without the capital. He was willing to sacrifice his morals and carry the burden of the city's sins so its people wouldn’t be tainted. It was as honourable as it was stupid.

I groaned and rubbed my temples, easing the mounting headache slightly. The meeting was an emotional rollercoaster I wasn’t suited for. It should have been Scarlet in that chair. She was skilled at planning. Speaking. Meetings like this in books were always between the leader of the great city in peril and the leader of a ragtag crew of strong-willed heroes. Not a leader and some engineering wanna-be.

But by some trick of fate, some cosmic mishap, it was up to me. My friends looked at me like I was in charge. Snowflake saw me as a fearless adventurer. DJ Pon3 saw me as a selfless hero. They all had faith in me. I didn’t deserve their faith. I wasn’t worthy of it. But I wanted to be… If trying to live up to the legend the people painted of me would help them, the least I could do was try. The least I could do was strive to be ‘The Captain’ that they all needed.

So I agreed.

Two contracts were made. One on paper, promising my friends and I would clear out the toxin in exchange for caps, any information Prime has on my people, and the end to forced labour. One verbal agreement, between Harmony and I to go against Prime for the good of the city.

Footnotes:
No level up for you. Cry about it

Author's Note

My friend Tori on discord had some free time and looked over this chapter for me <3 So that's why the quality is higher than normal. It was super sweet of her, I'm very happy with how it turned out