Fallout: Equestria - Parallelism

21st of the Month of Heather, Violetday. The fifty-ninth day of my stay.

I slowly open my eyes. Motley's body is pressed against me, nuzzling my chin with her sweet muzzle, and I put my front leg around the pegasus's shoulders, pulling her close to me. She sniffles peacefully, her warm breath warming my fur.

All I want to do is lie there and be with her. Enjoy the warmth of her body.

"How did you sleep?" I ask, giving her my smile.

"Wonderful..." she answers sluggishly and sleepily, returning her head to its previous position and snuggling a little harder against me. "I didn't expect such a pleasant development yesterday."

"Nor did I expect it. I like having you around."

"Likewise... You're cozy and good. Let's lie down some more," she strokes my belly with her hoof. "Let's not go anywhere."

"Yeah..."

I lean down, resting my nose against the brown mane, and inhale deeply. My body shakes from the past wave of pleasure.

"You smell so nice," I say. "I can't get enough of you."

"Mutually," the pegasus licks my nose.

Her hoof slides from my belly lower. The pegasus bites her lip as she stares at me with multicolored eyes.

"I want more..." she whispers and dives under the blanket.

***

"Word travels fast around here," the light lilac unicorn smiles softly as soon as Motley and I enter the casino's office space. "No sooner had the casino changed owners than you had two letters delivered the very next morning; also, Bluerise informs me that the husband of an artist you know gave her a painting."

"I'll go over and have a look at it later. What are the letters?" I inquire. Bland, wasting no time, presents the said letters to me.

"If anything, I haven't read them," he shrugs. After a brief pause, he adds, "If you don't need anything else, I'll be off. Things are busy."

I nod, whereupon the unicorn leaves us.

The pegasus and I return to the empty corridor, walking slowly down it, opening the sealed envelopes. Only a name. As I pull a letter from the first envelope, Motley steps closer to me, and together we look at the text with interest.

"Salute, Daniel. Troy Steelmane is writing to you. I don't know if this letter will get to you, since you can't even be found by day. I have a small favor to ask. You don't have to agree, I realize you're a wheeler and you don't have a lot of free time, just take note. As you know, magical gems don't grow on trees in our city, and it's not easy to grow them. Energy crisis and all, in case you haven't noticed. So, in order to somehow solve this delicate problem, our family sends small groups to explore, hoping to find a pre-war mine with appropriate conditions for the extraction and production of colorful gems. So far, no luck. Recently I've had some folks complain to me that another group that went to the east has disappeared without a trace, as if vaporized—no news, no shit. They've been disappearing since before I was born. When I heard about these disappearances again, I immediately thought of you, the pony who makes the impossible possible. If you have the time and desire, can you search for these lost souls? I would be very grateful to you, as the area is not beyond the first corner, and the Family does not want to spend time and resources on searching for them, as it is not critical. They blame it on aggressive mutants and unfriendly bandits. The only thing I know is that the scouts disappeared at the mountain range, spreading at the largest mountain ridge, separating us from the rest of the Wasteland, like a severed limb, and, in my opinion, there are only solid rocks around, so you should have eyes on your knees, so that you don't miss anything and don't stumble. I won't be in debt, of course."

Apparently, they haven't decided whether to give me a recommendation for the title of a King. That's why they're sending me another proposal for cooperation. Although only the head of the family can give a recommendation, and he's just a blood heir... I don't know.

"Are you going to go look for them?" Motley asks, looking at me.

"There aren't any leads related to the Dome right now anyway, so to avoid wasting time, I'd rather build up my reputation for now. The place Troy is talking about is about four or five days away from Vanhoover. I'll let Caroline handle it. She likes to explore the area, so it's okay to give her directions."

"What's the second letter about?"

"We're about to find out," I say, bowing my head and opening another envelope.

"Mr. Evans, there's a request for you from Sunny Waterfall. The rumors in town are rather hard to believe, but some of my family talk that it was you who managed to deal with the head of the raiders in the Crater by infiltrating the heart of that dangerous place, thus weakening their attacks on our caravans appreciably. I would not have contacted you, but your exceptional act has given me hope that you might be able to find my missing friend. If you're interested, come to me personally for details. You can find me on the edge of the island in the only safe place, Phoenix Threshold. In case you haven't been there, it's part of Vanhoover, located on Green Island. If I were you, I'd take more weapons and supplies, as you'll be going to look for my friend on the territory of The Island or Green Island, whatever you like to call it. I look forward to hearing from you soon."

Sunny Waterfall... That name sounds familiar. Clearly she's a member of the Waterfall family, but where have I heard it... Someone mentioned it. The day I was deciding on the reward after the Crater. Flint Grey and, uh... Crimson Sky, a writer from the Vanhoover Polytechnic Institute.

Sunny's a blood relative of the family, but she's in the science business, as I understand it. Obviously, it's not her decision whether to recommend the title of a King from the Waterfall family to me.

Motley says, "Will you go to Sunny Waterfall? Green Island is a dangerous and poorly explored place as far as I'm concerned. Of course I'll go with you. Somebody's got to keep your curiosity in check."

"Okay, I'm able to take care of myself," I say sternly to Motley, turning to her. "I've spent nine years traveling in the dangerous Wasteland, and I know how to survive."

"I've got your back anyway. If anyone tries to touch you with a hoof, they die a beautiful death, after which shreds of their ass will be scraped off the walls. Have you forgotten who I am?"

"The dancer whose matchless moves make Prince melt instantly, the girl who gets aroused by being peeped at?"

The beige pegasus pokes her hoof at my shoulder.

"Hush, you wet fetishist," she blushes. "Let's go see what our Deep Blue has sprayed on the canvas."

I laugh and hug her.

I'm wildly jealous of her: she's trusted me with something that's hard to keep to myself alone—her past. How do I tell her about my origins? When will I ever have the courage to admit something so crazy?

***

With amazed faces, Motley and I stare at the canvas delivered to Bluerise from the artist. I can't believe my eyes. The situation the artist intended to depict was different from what I see before me.

We are in the back room of the Bottomless Chest store. With us is its owner, who is looking at the painting of Motley and me with interest and an understanding smile on her face.

"Wow," the purple unicorn exhales enthusiastically. "Did you then..."

"Did I hug you like that?" I wonder, ignoring the unicorn's words and looking at the picture. "I remember it was just a normal friendly hug back then, but here..."

Motley is silent. Bluerise speaks instead.

"What's there to be surprised about?" she asks. "It's pretty clear: hugging like you're more than friends."

"Right," I say. The picture seems to accurately capture that moment, but at the same time it's very different. "But back then, we hadn't confessed our feelings yet."

"Artists," the pegasus suddenly absent-mindedly quotes familiar words, "can see far more than mere mortals."

"Oh, that's all so sweet!" Bluerise exclaims happily. "And yet I wondered when you would confess to each other. Oh, how I envy you. I wonder what would have happened if you had seen this painting before the confession?"

"Why are you jealous?" I ask curiously. "You're quite a beauty with an attractive smile. You didn't come to town yesterday, there are probably a few studs who already have their eyes on you and can't tear it off."

"I told you earlier how unlucky I was with that. Just to get laid with me and that's it—they don't want me anymore. Yes, some studs look at me, but I feel like they're all only interested in my body, not me."

"Don't despair," I smile encouragingly, resting a hoof on the unicorn's shoulder. "You'll meet your happily ever after. Bland, for example."

"What about him?" the pony inquires. "He's just trying to thank me for pulling him out of poverty."

"Is it really only about gratitude? Think again, Blue, he struck me as a nice pony. He was pleasantly surprised by the help of a kind stranger, and you won him over with that. He's not only trying to repay your help, he's trying to please you. While talking to him a couple times the subject of you came up, and his eyes brightened."

"Well..."

"It's my job to offer. It's up to you to decide. And remember, if he does anything bad to you, I'm gonna beat his face out. You're not alone in this town. Right, Motley?"

"Sure!" I hear.

"Thank you guys," she hugs me tighter, and then Motley. "However, I have business to attend to now, and I have to leave you—clients are waiting."

"Well, hurry up," I say as she walks away. And then, looking at the few kids' toys lying there, I think of one little orange pony. "I'll take the painting. And yes, I also want to buy Nara a box of toys."

"You're welcome to take them, not many ponies here are interested in them anyway," the mare turns around. "Maybe I'll commission a portrait of myself from an artist you know," she adds before disappearing from sight. I glance at the motley-eyed pegasus.

"Bluerise... She told me her story once, and I thought of myself. I can't envy her. She spoke so well of you... You mean a lot to her."

"And she was the one who blabbed to you that I'm into wet bodies?"

The pegasus blushes.

"I was just... curious. Had to make sure there wasn't anything like that going on between you two. I know what you had was... Casual. But nothing more than that. That's how I found out that detail."

"I guessed."

Motley turns to the canvas with the picture of her and me on it.

"Where will you hang the picture?"

"In my suite in Heavenly Harbor, and where else?"

"Oh!" she taps her front hooves against each other thoughtfully. "I was just remembering. Since we're together... you wouldn't mind me... settling in with you?" the pegasus hesitantly asks, smiling strainedly. "After tonight... I don't want to sleep alone anymore."

"Of course I don't mind! On the contrary, I sleep easier with someone at my side. Why does it bother you?"

"Well, in case you want to be alone in your apartment sometimes."

"It's lonely there. And plenty of room—both for dancing and stripping," I smiled, playing with my eyebrows.

"For stripping and for dancing?" she walks toward me at point-blank range, standing up on her hind legs, lifting me up as well, as if she wants to dance with me. "Is there that much room available for that?" she smiles lightly, covering her eyes languidly and leaning closer.

"Yeah..." I whisper, preparing to kiss her.

And to my dismay, I realize I've been wrapped around my torso and lifted up. The next thing I know, I feel a pain in my back. I'm on the floor, pegasus on top of me. A deflection throw.

"And even for hoof-to-hoof combat training?" she smirks in my face.

I mean, she followed in her father, who liked to have fun. I should have expected something like that from her.

"Oh..." I groan. "And what was that for? All you did was get my clothes and yours dirty..."

"It's no big deal. We're going back to Heavenly Harbor anyway. As you can see, my jokes are different from yours. There's more active body movement in them."

"In other words, you like to horse around."

"You could say that. Only with friends and family. Horsing around... and I just felled one horse," I laugh tiredly. "So you beware of me too, when you hug or try to kiss me. I'll be practicing your vigilance. And yes, from what I remember, you have a strong back," she refers to the improvements from the implants in my spine that are left in me. "And you don't have to worry about you in cases like this."

"Is that why you chose me? So you could have fun with me like this without fear?" She laughs ringingly.

"And there's something in that," she replies thoughtfully.

Oh, no!

"But don't worry." Suddenly I feel her lips on mine, then she unclenches her hooves. "I know the measure, and I'll still give you a hug and a kiss after this. Now let's go," she stands up and helps me up.

***

Taking the painting back to Heavenly Harbor, I also grab some plush toys for Nara.

Upon arriving at the humble nest, the first one to greet me is, of course, our chain dog named Caroline, using her main dark blue robotic Stable body, which is looking ragged at the moment: small scratches left by animals, dried dirt and dust. Apparently her body had just returned to the bunker after another run through the Wasteland.

"It's good to see you," she addresses us. We exchange welcoming pleasantries. "How's your progress in increasing your reputation in the pony and griffon social environment?" she asks interestedly.

"Slowly," I cover my eyes, then immediately add in a firm tone, "but steadily! And I have some business to attend to."

"I'm listening intently."

"I need you to scour a rocky area east of here near the mountain range—it's on the very edge of the Vanhoover region. Somewhere in that area, a group of masters recently went missing looking for gem mines and production. So be vigilant."

"Will do!" Caroline exclaimed cheerfully. "But controlling my robots at this distance is impossible due to the weak transmitter. It is necessary to overcome this acceptable limit."

I think back to Lemon.

"I hope Berry found all the necessary components and parts at her Citadel to upgrade your capabilities. We'll have to get her."

Caroline leaves us to have her body thoroughly repaired and diagnosed. We decide to use Venture, near where Blaze is rummaging around, checking and making sure everything is in order and nothing is broken by examining every inch of the body with tools and various instruments.

"What do you want?" he asks, engrossed in what he's doing.

"I want to use Venture to pick someone up," I say.

"Who and where?"

"A Steel Ranger in their—"

"Are you serious?" he hisses with poorly concealed disgust. "They're obsessed with technology, and they'll take your Venture away before you know it!"

"Oh, calm down. I know about it, but we don't intend to land directly at their headquarters. And you can trust a friend. Besides, she knows about Venture and has been to Heavenly Harbor."

"Since that is the case... Then get in, I'll give you a ride," his tone becoming a little more cheerful, apparently at the thought that he was about to sit at the Venture's controls again and cut through the air.

Landing in the same place as the previous times, I make my way to their base alone. The pegasus is about to protest, but I quickly inform her that I'm only picking up my friend. Motley's gaze softens.

I find Lemon at the base. She informs me that she hasn't solved the details for integrating Caroline with the Vertibuck yet, but she can solve the signal range problem.

I introduce her to Blaze. He is stern and wary of ponies in power armor, especially her friendly tone. She doesn't pay much attention to it. It's interesting to see his reaction to the physicality of the star paladin. Lemon notices Motley is close to me. She instantly realizes everything.

"Finally!" she exclaims with incomprehensible relief. "You guys got laid after all."

I shake my head, and Motley shrinks back and averts her gaze. Apparently because of Blaze, who has suffered the mare's abuse.

In the bunker, Lemon heads straight for Caroline.

Motley moves in with me, and I help her. At some point, Nara visits us. She's tired of entertaining herself with the toys I bought her. She wants to play with me. I was going to tell her no, but I can't resist the begging look on the little orange pony's face, and I have half an hour of fun with her while Motley drags some of her stuff over to my place.

At some point in the fun, I introduce Nara to Lemon. Naturally, the little pony is incredulous and skeptical of the new face in this underground bunker. However, Lemon's friendly attitude as well as her kind smile makes little Nara relax and not worry about her new acquaintance. According to Flow, Nara didn't show her face for a while when Blaze showed up at the place.

As I meet Lemon, who's busy amplifying Caroline's signal, Nara watches her work with curiosity. She temporarily loses interest in our game, allowing me to prepare the equipment without upsetting her. Lemon and Caroline don't mind the company of the little orange pony watching them passionately.

I remember that my main weapon is now being upgraded by Ferris. Motley says that her battle saddle has been taken away by the griffon for improvement as well.

"Оh. Hi," the griffon turns to us, taking his eyes off the workbench and setting aside his tools. "How was your time?" he asks with a faint smirk.

"It was absolutely divine," I smile.

"Good for you. While you were fucking the divine pegasus, I worked on your gear. Due to a lack of some resources and parts, the end result wasn't quite satisfactory—that only applies to Whispering Night."

The griffon nods to a nearby shelf where my dark blue half rifle and half carbine lie. I envelope it with my magic and levitate it to me, feeling the weight gain.

"I see you've noticed the change," he continues. "Yes, I modified the weapon's receiver: it now has three firing modes that only affect the rate of fire. Now, as you can see, the switch is set at standard, which means that in that mode the semi-rifle has the same firing characteristics as before. The 'higher' position noticeably increases the rate of fire almost to the level of your carbine pistol, but the bullet velocity, and therefore the penetrating power, suffers. It also significantly increases wear and tear. Therefore, I recommend using this mode only when there are a lot of opponents. With the 'lower' position it's the opposite: the killing power increases, but the rate of fire decreases, becoming approximately the same as in standard sniper rifle analogs. Next time I'll get better materials and eradicate the drawbacks of increased weight and durability. Caroline's already given me plenty of ideas and solutions."

"Anyway, you've done a good job," I smile contentedly, looking at my improved weapon.

"I'm honored. Your turn, Motley," he turns to the brooding pegasus, bringing her back down to earth. "Your battle saddle, in my opinion, contained many engineering oversights and flaws. I tweaked the ammunition changing and reloading system without too much trouble, and calibrated the movement of the barrels, making aiming much easier. When I get the necessary parts, I will be able to make a couple more improvements, which will be very useful in combat. I was able to do all of this thanks to some of the schematics and blueprints from The New Features, and they are truly amazing. I hope," Ferris Falcon turns to me, "you'll let me order..."

"Don't go too fast. I've got a casino to invest in right now. Every cap counts."

Ferris's gray eyes go wide.

"When did you have time?"

"Long story."

"Holy shit. You don't get bothered by the families? Not trying to lure you over to their side?"

"Not yet."

"They will soon, especially the Softhooves. Now, I'd better get down to business."

He turns to a table with many different parts and parts from weapons on it, as well as tools.

Motley and I head off to test out the improvements. At first I'm surprised not to find the Captain, but then I remember that he's gone on business to the Northern Soul.

We are pleased with the results of the tests. After supper, we go to bed.

***

22nd of the Month of Heather, Redday. Fifty-ninth day of my stay.

We have a lovely shower together in the morning. I help her, since pegasi or earth ponies aren't comfortable reaching certain places without special devices. And, of course, I couldn't help but get aroused. Twice. Motley decides she'd rather bathe alone as long as she's okay with shower sex. After all, it's not such a comfortable activity for her.

I have no problem agreeing. A little bit of everything is a little bit of everything, after all.

After breakfast, we start packing. I put on the stealth armor with the missing stealth field generator that is Nightwatch, with my favorite cape attached to it. Grabbing my helmet, I gather the essentials; I take my pony revolver, Whispering Night, and ammunition for them. Stock up on food, water, medical supplies, and a few other important little things. I'm also not forgetting the shock sword. I'm questioning whether to take Pushy.

"Motley, I want to give it to you," I say, levitating the weapon to the pegasus packing her gear and supplies.

She's clad in the gray Mark III battle armor we got as a trophy when we went to the Crater. On one side of her combat saddle is a semi-automatic rifle with a silencer attached, and on the other side is the orange-colored energy-magic rifle formerly owned by Violet—Typhoon.

Motley looks interestedly at the object in front of her.

"What's that? I've seen it before, but I didn't notice you using it."

"It's an energy-magic knuckle that requires a spark battery. A gift to you. You'll get a lot more use out of it," I smile. "A sword is enough for me if it comes to close combat—or when my ammunition runs out."

"Thank you so much, Danny," Motley hugs me. "It's a wonderful gift. Just what I needed."

"Only the best for you, "I smile, opening the hug, then kissing the pegasus.

I'm easy on her, and recently I nearly lost my mind over an internal conflict. I'm left with the oppressive feeling of hiding my past. Why did I eventually come to peace and accept the fact that I am in a relationship with a pony? Why did the conflict suddenly disappear? I have a bad feeling about this.

***

"Why don't you want to come with us?" I say sadly.

"I've told you repeatedly that I'm not going to Vanhoover! I'd be recognized there in a heartbeat, much less at Phoenix Threshold," Ferris sighs angrily. "And your suggestion about hiding your face under your helmet... They'll smell me. Certainly not like you," he smirks, probably remembering my trip through the emergency tunnel in the Crater's sewers.

"Why is that?" I inquire, ignoring the hint of the shittiest—quite literally—moment of my life.

"There are a lot of griffons on The Island, particularly in the southern part of it, since they're the ones who do most of the hunting of the local game. All the griffons there recognize me by my voice if I cough. Seven years is a long time, but I don't want to take any chances. I'm sure you can handle it, and you have a feathered companion if things get tight and you have to get your beige asses out of there in a hurry. Besides, I don't like the local flora and fauna."

"Will there be a problem with mutants?" I inquire.

"Of course. And serious ones at that. You'll get the details from your client," the griffon smiles mysteriously.

"What a lazy turkey, not bothering to tell me the dangers! If there's anything deadly in there, I'll rip the feathers out of your ass and stuff them in my pillow!" I grumble, turning around and striding away from the armory.

"In that case, your pillow will be the best in the Wasteland—soft and plump," Ferris tosses after me.

His pet, Edge, shrieks in approval.

He knows how to wriggle out of it. Motley has the softest feathers, though, and I'd love to snooze on them...

Motley is having a conversation with Blaze in the hangar where Venture is located. As soon as I'm in her line of sight, she smiles at me, ending the conversation. Seeing my chagrined grimace, Motley is sad for a brief moment, but immediately cheers up.

"Why are you smiling?"

"I take it you couldn't get Ferris to Green Island?"

"Yeah..."

"It'll just be you and me," she purrs.

Ferris had refused out of reluctance to shine his soft feathered ass in front of the Phoenix Threshold griffons. Blaze wouldn't mind going, but Venture needs to be looked after. Caroline won't be able to go with us because the Island is out of her range—Lemon is in the middle of fixing that problem, and she herself, a Steel Ranger, would definitely not be welcome by the griffons. The captain, because he's a ghoul, can be shot, and he can't be in the company of criminal families. Nara and Flow won't go for obvious reasons. That leaves just Motley and me.

"Yeah," Blaze snickers mockingly, "and die on the same day," he climbs into the Vertibuck.

I'm getting uneasy.

"I won't let you get hurt," Motley assures me.

"I'm actually worried about you," I smile sadly, only now realizing the risk my dear pony is taking.

"Don't even think about it!" she protests. "I'll go wherever you go. I'll be fine. In case of anything, you won't be able to overpower me so easily: it's more likely I'll strangle you."

I smile involuntarily.

"Are you two having a road trip snack?" Blaze is angry inside.

***

We land on Green Island, aka The Island, in what is now Phoenix Threshold. It acquired its name after the war, as it is part of Vanhoover on the island. The griffons here are indeed for the most part griffons in solid insulated armor with powerful weapons mounted on their backs. These are hunters who have taken a break before entering the grounds again.

When the roaring metal bird lands, everyone looks at it with undisguised interest. The southern part of The Island, where Phoenix Threshold is located, sits opposite Vanhoover—they are separated by a little over a mile of Desert Ocean waters. Standard motorboats are used to travel from the island to the mainland and back.

As for Phoenix Threshold itself, it is a cluster of several dozen brick buildings and wooden houses of different sizes and colors. The place doesn't look as impressive as many of Vanhoover's main streets, but it can't be called abandoned and dirty either. The town is surrounded by a massive concrete wall, with one or two guards wandering around at a measured gait. There are few guards, since, understandably, mutants do not make organized attacks.

Venture takes off, leaving Motley and me behind. If we need to be picked up, all I have to do is turn on the beacon in the spare PipBuck.

As soon as the Vertibuck is out of sight, the people around us go back to their business, but some of them—probably because of the boring atmosphere—give us interested looks.

You bet: it's not every day that something unusual and memorable appears. For example, a working fucking Vertibuck! It's so good that now we don't have to leave Venture unattended: as soon as the owner loses sight of it for a moment, it will be immediately dismantled for parts, leaving, if we're lucky, only the hull.

After asking how to find Sunny Waterfall, we set off to find her. As we move through the small streets it becomes clear—before the war, this was something of a tourist spot. Here you could rest, sleep, eat, choose which part of the island to tour, which souvenir stores to visit, and generally appreciate the comforts for visitors. A huge wall, it seems, was installed after the war, or it was completed for greater safety from the rich and mostly bloodthirsty flora and fauna.

Some houses have been converted for housing. A couple of the reserve's administration houses are used as barracks and offices for the police, and as a hospital with doctors from the Meadows family. The rest are simply restored. Food, clean water, a warm bed, a regular store converted to trade weapons and armor—everything you need to live. There is only one store here, but it provides a very wide range of goods—you can stock up on the most essential supplies for hunting the local wildlife.

I glance at a pre-war tourist map of Green Island, where animal and plant habitats are marked. I can say with certainty: most species were killed when the megaspell fell north, over the mountains. It was fortunate that the bomb fell on the other side of the mountains, and the destructive force of the shockwave couldn't do any serious damage to the city and the island; the spread of the radiation background was also slightly reduced. It's scary to imagine the level of radiation on the other side of the mountain range. The size of the island is immodest: in length it reaches almost a hundred miles, and in width about forty. About half of the island, mostly mountainous terrain, is covered by a permanent layer of snow.

Sunny Waterfall is in a small wooden cabin converted into a laboratory. An earth pony, Soldier Waterfall, guarding a blood relative of the family, lets us in upon seeing the letter.

Inside are a variety of plants planted in special pots and boxes of soil. Flasks, beakers, test tubes with liquids, flashing measuring instruments that emit a characteristic soft sound, thus announcing their correctness and operation; a generally pleasant smell of plants and chemical reagents hangs in the air. There is only one pony here in a white, slightly stained from work, warmed robe. When she notices our arrival, she approaches us with a greeting, asking what business we are on.

"Are you Sunny Waterfall?" I clarify.

"She is," a smoky-colored unicorn in her sixties replies, with a graying mane—her natural yellow curls meet in it. On her muzzle are standard glasses with thick lenses.

"So you're the one who sent me that letter."

I levitate it in proof. The mare looks at me evaluatively.

"I was under the impression you'd be taller. But come on, if you really are the one my niece is praising..."

Praise? That's a good sign.

"...then let's get down to business, which is this. My colleague who was doing research with me hasn't sent word since he went to collect plant samples after leaving this town. He's been gone for too long, so I've been worried that he's gone somewhere deep inside the island. Since you have already been to dangerous places like the Crater, and have completed your assignment in a timely manner, I am confident that you will be able to survive the hardships and dangers that Green Island will present to you, and you will bring my colleague back alive and well. For a decent reward, I suggest that you undertake the search for him, for others are afraid of all sorts of tall tales: the caps I offer to the mercenaries are not worth risking their lives for, in their opinion. Of course, these tales are not as delusional as those of the Stable 66, from which no one has ever returned, but there is truth at the heart of every myth. That's why it pays to be vigilant on The Island."

"Okay, it wouldn't be the first time I've done that," I reply.

Typical of the Wasteland, where unexplored places are overgrown with all sorts of horrible myths and nonsensical legends, most of which have a logical explanation. I'm used to it by now: I partly enjoy exploring such places, while shattering superstitious fears in the process. That indescribable and inexplicable thrill of embarking on such a journey in the hope of finding out what lies behind the delusional stories. I take great pleasure in getting to the truth. Curiosity is a vice reserved for the brave... and fools like me.

"Tell me who he is and I'll bring him back."

"Well..." the pony looks away confused. "As strange as it sounds, I don't know his name."

"You don't know your colleague's name?" I'm genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm telling you it sounds weird. He's actually just a fellow scientist doing basically the same thing I'm doing, only in much more depth. There are hardly any genetic scientists in the Wasteland, much less one so erudite in the field. He studies not only plants, but all living things, trying to understand the various mutations. He came to Vanhoover about a year ago for the sake of studying the local flora and fauna. He was interested in The Island: the diversity and survivability of the vegetation there. That's how we met. He took a strong scientific interest in what I was doing here. Research results, reports... literally everything, and his knowledge of the field is really extensive. He's even pointed out a lot of mistakes and errors I've made. He is a pleasure to work with, and has helped me get noticeably closer to solving my crop problems once and for all in such a harsh cold climate. But I never learned the name of this gifted scientist, who, to my surprise, is about twenty years younger than I am!"

"Wow..." I ponder.

My memory suddenly flashes back to a visit to the Vault 22, where I went for information: there was a very high level of vegetation there in a desert and dry climate that no one was taking care of. This trip included a search for a missing scientist who had gone there for data and was also a ghoul. Once I found her and the data, I convinced her to give me the results of her research in hopes of developing plants that would give huge harvests in the most unsuitable conditions.

Here on The Island, Sunny said, there is also very tenacious vegetation adapted to the cold and harsh climate. Apparently, Waterfall intends to develop special preparations or fruiting plants that can withstand low temperatures, thus saving heat, water, and time.

"It seems to me," Sunny says, "that Professor went deep into The Island for better specimens, where the vegetation is stronger, which would give a greater chance of getting answers to questions, but also add danger."

"Professor?" Motley wonders. "Dangerous vegetation?"

"That's what he called himself when I tried to get his name out," Sunny clarifies.

I meanwhile recall a conversation with Homage, who mentioned Professor—a not unfamous figure in the Wasteland—doing research about twenty years ago. But, according to her, he's gone to the zebra lands.

"And about the dangerous flora," the scientist continues, deep in thought. "I don't know, that's just a rumor. There's talk that the local predators, such as mutated wolves, yao guai, are not as dangerous as an enemy that professionally hides among the plants. Others say the plants themselves are those invisible predators."

"You mean? I have not yet been to the Green Island area and know virtually nothing about it."

"I can assume they're regular predatory plants that have mutated under the effects of radiation, gotten bigger, and are no longer catching small insects, but ponies, griffons, and survivors of the megaspell of predators and herbivores."

Reminiscent of large spore plants that can literally swallow a person. I still remember those things spitting disgusting acidic secretions at me. Hopefully, the dangerous flora here is just a rumor.

"If you set hoof on the territory of The Island, prepare to meet besides relatively harmless herbivores like deer, squirrels and mountain goats also dangerous predators: ferocious yao guai, hunting in packs of rad-wolves and many others. The biggest danger is posed by creatures endemic to this island: large deadly poisonous spiders and huge bloody butterflies. These two species prey on absolutely everyone, as they have the advantage of special poisons. But don't forget about other masters who are hunting this fauna: some of them won't bother you, while others will want to kill you out of greed to get your stuff—some of them hunt others for this very purpose. So be extremely vigilant. I suggest you buy some antidotes."

"Bloody butterflies?" I shudder, remembering the cazadors.

I hope those aren't...

"Their wings are shaped like butterfly wings. They're half the size of a pony and have a distinctive smoky green color with red patterns on their wings, but the main problem is that they don't make any sounds when they fly because of the special structure of their wings: only when one stings you and you feel blissfully weak and unwilling to move—only then you can feel their presence, and then the whole flock will drink your blood. However, as I see, you have a PipBuck, so you should have no problem detecting them. Oh, and the blood butterflies live near the mountains of the northeastern part of The Island and hunt mostly at night."

"What's this blissful weakness?"

"When blood butterflies sting, they inject a special kind of poison into the bloodstream that eventually paralyzes the body. The essence of its action is to suppress the victims' desire to resist and the feeling of being suckled at all—in other words, it dulls the senses altogether, replacing them with ecstasy or something like that. The Meadows use their glands to produce certain drugs. The exhausted victim is dragged by the butterflies to the nest and used as a food medium for larval growth, from which new individuals hatch after a certain amount of time. Several hunters have seen butterflies hatching from still living victims, immobilized under the influence of overwhelming venom, as if from a cocoon. Such a cocoon can serve not only ponies and non-ponies, but also common creatures like yao guai and spiders. It's a horrible sight."

"What about spiders?" I ask in a trembling voice.

I've never had to cross paths with huge spiders before. They're unpleasant to look at on their own, but these ones are gigantic and dangerous!

"Pony-sized, brown-colored, more common: they occupy the western part of the territory, from the walls of this pre-war tourist town to the mountains in the north. They don't live in the snow. And these hideous creatures strike you by biting you—they can bite through armor—injecting a deadly poison. Or spit a special slime that slowly corrodes everything in its path, and then envelop you in a web, creating a cocoon to keep your body from rapidly decomposing; dragging you to a nest and using you as food for larvae and themselves—just like butterflies, actually, but not as brutally."

"And the other predators?"

"Not so dangerous... The variety is too great to enumerate. Yao guai and mutated wolves are the most common. In general, it's advisable not to deviate from the tourist road, which is enclosed by a huge metal fence. There are only two such winding roads—if you've looked at a map—they start here and run along The Island and end somewhere in the mountains."

"And you're sure that Professor, with all these dangers, if they do exist—I mean the killer plants—is still alive?"

"I can't say for sure, but he can take care of himself since he managed to get to Vanhoover alone. A lot of hunters travel in pairs at least, and don't go to the mountains, the butterflies' main habitat. Only the brave and the insane go alone. And the killer plants. probably just a myth."

"But where did the myth come from?"

"Because of the tall flora," the pony scientist replies, thoughtfully. "I know that after the megaspell fell, almost all vegetation was destroyed, but it rapidly regenerated after a while. Even the huge metal fences are entangled with huge thick vines, branches and stems, something that was not observed before the war and is not peculiar to this cold region at all. From what and how this greening suddenly occurred is still unclear, despite the samples received. Maybe my hypothesis is wrong, but it is quite likely that the reason for this was a research laboratory, which was dedicated to the study of plants and was located somewhere in the depths of The Island. I know of its existence—without the exact location—from local surviving books... Right!" Sonny exclaims suddenly. "I told Professor about it, didn't I, but it's hard to find in these green slums that have covered everything they can reach. He's probably gone in search of it. Why didn't I think of that before? But still, mercenaries wouldn't risk looking for someone in that part of The Island."

"So we'll take the road up into the mountains."

"Yes, Professor must have taken one of them. He is aware that it is safest to go along them, as almost all of the fences have survived despite the passing of time, only in some places they have been breached by predators and accidentally damaged by other hunters. There are two of you, so you'll keep an eye on each other," the pony smiles. We nod and leave the scientist's domain.

The news of the huge spiders and bloody butterflies makes Motley's face pale a little. I don't worry much about her: she can fly away at any moment if we're in mortal danger. To this she replies that she will not leave me. She can't lift me into the air with my gear. I'd have to be completely disarmed, like in Red Spark when we flew across the river.

In general, we can call Venture and fly through The Island territory on it. However, that would make it harder to find the lab among the thickets, not to mention the fact that there would be nowhere for the Vertibuck to land due to the density and height of the trees.

Before we go for a walk around Green Island, we stop by the local Meadows Clinic and buy some antidotes. We decide to take the road that runs along the eastern side of the island—poisonous spiders are more common in the west. Although in the east there is a higher risk of encountering the most common predators—yao guai and wolves. It's a good thing our helmets are equipped with devices that can easily spot local predators.

***

We walk along the dirt road, looking at the surroundings behind the high fences. Before the war, tourists were free to take a vehicle or walk here to look at the amazing and rare animals—if, of course, they were in their sight. Every passing tourist had binoculars. However, most of them viewed the surroundings from the air on pegasus-driven chariots or buses. However, the speed of travel on them is slow: what about the speedy Vertibucks!

The surrounding area is a green terrain, partially covered by a barely visible white shroud of mist; through it the trees loom, with a creak and lazy rustle of leaves wobbling in the light wind. Shrubs and clusters of grass wriggling in the breeze huddle humbly at their sides.

I can hear the buzzing of small insects hidden among the grass and bushes, as well as the distant sounds of single gunfire, notifying of hunters nearby. As I know, deer are mostly hunted for their tasty meat and warm skins—and also because they breed massively, trying to leave as many offspring as possible in such unfriendly conditions. Strangely enough, they hunt spiders and bloody butterflies, the insides and glands of which are excellent for the production of chemical and medical preparations. Although hunting them is dangerous, as well as on yao guai, but the labor is appreciated in due measure. Among the hunters are mostly griffons of the Falcon family, as they are safest to traverse the dangerous territory of The Island thanks to their ability to fly. But even they don't get very far because of bloody butterflies and the superstitions about killer plants.

***

It's been a few hours of our leisurely journey, and so far it's been relatively quiet. The predators are avoided, while the flora becomes denser as we dive into the depths of Green Island.

And now, on Pip-Boy's compass, I see two neutral points very close together. They're probably hunters. As Sunny said, it's not recommended to hunt alone in this area. We carefully, without making a fuss, go to check out these unknowns by going off the road through one of the gaps in the fence. As expected, they turn out to be hunters, both griffons, clad up to their necks in camouflage leather armor with plates inserted. The tail was hidden under the armor in a special section. They carry high-powered rifles with telescopic sights, and their bags are stuffed with meat and hides. They are interestedly looking at the slightly glowing bright orange piles that resemble a viscous goo when disintegrated by an energy-magic weapon.

As soon as we get a little closer, one of them notices our presence and looks around, pulls a large pistol from its holster and aims it at us, informing his comrade of the strangers' appearance. The other turns around and points a sawed-off shotgun at us.

"What do you want here?" the griffon with the sawed-off shotgun asks warily.

"We're just wanderers exploring The Island," I reply. I don't draw my weapon, but my pegasus assumes a fighting stance, preparing to fire. "We spotted you and decided to check out what you were looking at with such interest."

"Or maybe you want to kill us and take our gear and loot?" the griffon persists, squinting at his densely packed bags. His partner is as silent as a fish.

"If that were the case, we would have killed you right away. Got to wondering what could have attracted the hunters so much that they actually forgot about vigilance."

"Argh, well... Okay. Thanks for that at least," the griffon exhales in relief, returning the sawed-off shotgun to its holster.

His partner does the same. Motley also releases the firing mechanism of the combat saddle from her mouth. The griffon looks over the pegasus appraisingly and inquisitively. At the sight of the energy-magic rifle on her battle saddle, he has a legitimate question.

"Did you leave this mess behind? Can't take any profit from that," he points to the orange goo around him with a nod of his head.

"No, it certainly wasn't us," I reply. "Have you encountered this sort of thing around here before?"

"Yes. They've only recently appeared, about two months ago at most. We've seen these orange piles before, but for obvious reasons no one goes hunting with energy-magic weapons," he takes a quick glance at the remains of the disintegration, "and given that such weapons are rare, we can conclude that this someone is here for a very different purpose. We first thought Green Island had been infiltrated by these power armor-covered scumbags, but they've never been interested in The Island."

"Where else have you seen these remains?" I clarify.

"We flew over the area and spotted them, inspecting just about every battle site in hopes of getting some answers. A large concentration of it was found closer to the center of Green Island, where the greenery is noticeably thicker and obscures the view, but we weren't going to go there, naturally," the griffon states nervously.

"I see. Well... Shall we part ways?"

"Yeah," the previously silent griffon says and immediately retreats, flying into the air, followed by the feathered one who was talking to us. Once they're out of sight and off my compass, we move on.

"So Sunny predicted where Professor was going to go?" the pegasus, who had previously just followed me, asks, looking me in the face.

"Looks like it," I ponder. "If they've met more than once, then our missing pony can really stand up for himself. And he has powerful energy-magic weapons, since all of his foes have turned into a disgusting orange goo, giving no chance to identify their remains."

"Agreed. Not every weapon has a fairly constant and consistent effectiveness."

***

"Watch out!" I yell to Motley as a pack of wolves rush at us from ambush.

Damn it! The enemy detection system has stopped working properly for some reason: it detected seven of the enemy just before they attacked.

Motley elegantly dodges the wolf attacking her. The wolf slams into a tree, then falls and whimpers. At the same time, three wolves rush at me, completely blocking my escape route. There's only one way out. I hope I make it in time.

I create a barrier around me, which the wolves smash against and then fall to the ground. The other four, including the one who'd hit the tree, are busy with the pegasus. Once I'm satisfied that she can dodge their attacks without too much trouble, I can turn my attention to my own opponents, who snarl, first retreating and then attacking me again. This time they don't do it at the same time. I draw my revolver and sword.

I fire the revolver at the first wolf closest to me: the weapon makes a rumbling sound and the bullet goes through the wolf's head. The second one jumps at me from the side, but I manage to dodge, and the other one flies past. Before he can turn around for another attack, I activate V.A.T.S. and put a bullet in his temple. It slices through him and into the woods.

The aiming is still working. I try to switch to the third enemy. But as soon as I turn my head, he's already coming at me. The only thing I can do is point my sword at him. Just in time, the beast swings at the sword, the bloody end protruding from its back. He howls painfully, his muzzle trying to reach for me in a final tug—then his body collapses completely, his head hanging limply.

He's so heavy! I use magic to throw the body off my sword.

Once I've dealt with my opponents, I turn back to the pegasus, who strikes the last attacker with her front foot, a small blue halo around the beast's muzzle, making a familiar sound. There is a crunch, and the wolf is thrown with great force onto the green vines, its decapitated body hanging and swaying on them, its head rolling on the ground. I look around the battlefield. The pegasus has taken out four wolves with precise knuckle blows, some by turning their heads and decapitating others. The front of her helmet is pointed in my direction.

"Everything okay?" a calm voice sounds from under Motley's helmet. The answer is already obvious.

"No, not every thing," I reply jokingly. "Understandably handled it. You seem to have the same situation," I glance at the mangled bodies of the predators. This knuckle does wonders... But not for its victims.

"What I can't figure out is, how did we lose sight of them?" she inquires, approaching me. "The detection sensors in my helmet didn't go off in time."

"My PipBuck and helmet are also malfunctioning since the detection radius is so reduced. There's something wrong here. I mean, we've encountered predators before, but we avoided most of them, and the ones we couldn't get around didn't have time to do any damage. It's probably the environment," I look back at the huge thickets around us, through which it's virtually impossible to see anything.

The tops of the trees are intertwined to the point where they almost cover the sky: it's very uncomfortable for a pegasus to fly up. The deeper we go, the thicker and more impenetrable the forest becomes. Even the bark of the trees has a dark greenish color. Obstacles may affect the sensors, but not that much!

"Great care must be taken," I add. Blood butterflies can attack at any moment: we're getting closer and closer to their habitat.

Motley nods, and we set off further. After a while we come across the orange remains of disintegrated prey again. And they're becoming more frequent. We are on the right path, trying to stick to the fenced road, though we have to avoid fallen trees and fences or lush vegetation in places.

***

24th of the Month of Heather, Yellowday. Sixty-first day of my stay.

The first night we took turns sleeping. It's past midnight, we're tired. We need a break, but we've gone far enough, almost into the habitat of the blood butterflies. If we don't find the lab soon, we'll have to leave. Speaking of butterflies.

We catch a fight between blood butterflies and spiders. Huge, furry, brown-colored spiders spit at the wriggling dark green butterflies with barely visible red patterns on their wings, which in turn try to get close to the attackers, actively moving in the air. They all look disgusting. Motley and I decide not to interfere and wait, lurking among the bushes.

"They're disgusting," Motley whispers in disgust. "It's creepy..."

"I agree," I reply quietly, not taking my eyes off the battle.

"I wonder who will prove to be stronger..." the pegasus' tone slows down suspiciously. "How... you think?"

I turn around anxiously. My heart skips a beat: a bloody butterfly has sucked itself near her neck, piercing a weak spot in her armor with its trunk and sitting on Motley's back. Its nasty little legs are clinging to the armor, and its tendrils are twitching with the pleasure of consuming blood.

Can't she feel that filthy thing at all?!

I draw my revolver and shoot the butterfly, barely aiming. It makes a thin, low, and long sound, like the creaking of a door whose hinges need lubrication, and hangs limply from the pegasus's back. Hanging as the sharp proboscis remains in its neck. I pull the dead body with magic, struggling to extract the small and sturdy 'needle', and toss it away—but Motley doesn't react. Her neck is bleeding.

Fuck, fuck! Daniel, don't panic, hoof it and stop the blood now, get the antidote and healing potion! That's right, bandages and antidote!

Taking out the magic bandages and antidote from my bag, I first take off my helmet and bandage the pegasus' neck. I uncork the bottle of potion and try to pour the contents into the pony's smiling mouth. Her eyes rolled back, a look of pleasure and bliss on her face. After finally managing to open her mouth, pour the antidote into it and help the pegasus swallow the liquid, I immediately inject her with a strong healing potion. After a while, she starts to come to her senses.

"What... What happened?" she absent-mindedly looks around and then at me. "I felt so good..." her eyes round as she fumbles with her front foot for the bandage on her neck. "Bloody butterfly?"

"Right," I exhale with incredible relief as I look at the dead butterfly.

Motley stares at the dead creature and then kicks it fearfully with her front foot before rubbing her neck anxiously again.

"I didn't even feel its presence," the pony whispers with momentarily parched lips.

"Neither did I. The important thing is that you're okay. I put an antidote and a healing potion in you, so you should be fine. Let's see how the battle ended..."

I turn my head and see the spiders approaching, one of them twitching oddly. I lay on top of Motley to keep the dangerous, burning slime off of it. It flies over us.

The spiders have won—they have the numerical advantage—and now the three survivors are closing in on us.

Motley is the first to react, quickly rising to her feet and putting on her helmet, walking around the enemies, while I am left to draw their attention to myself. It's a tactic we've used more than once while exploring The Island. The pegasus is fast and agile enough to get around the enemy before it can turn toward her. After leaving me, she hides somewhere in the bushes, and I pull out Whispering Night, put on my helmet, and freeze behind one of the trees.

Spiders spit at my hiding place, preventing me from taking even one shot. The tree is covered almost entirely in their slime; it's already slowly melting. I have to thank the higher powers that the slime doesn't have such a quick effect.

After another spit, I peek out from behind cover, activating my V.A.T.S., and manage to shoot one spider before the others spit at me. It's like these bastards have each other's backs. I'm lucky they're not so close: I can react in time when one of them spews its secretions.

But now they're ten yards away, and Motley's still not...

The shot hits one of the spiders. Taking advantage of the moment, I switch the rifle to high speed and turn on the V.A.T.S. again. I peek out of hiding and fire two accurate shots straight at the spider's nasty face just a yard away from me, disfiguring it.

"What took you so long?" I yell, even though it's actually been a little over ten seconds since the pegasus slipped away.

"The local flora prevented my tactical detour," the bland reply comes to my ears. I'm flattered that she has confidence in me, while I worry about her constantly.

We scrutinize the bodies of the mutants before moving on. Next we encounter spiders and a couple of yao guai, but we have no problems with them.

I cast a spell on my and Motley's armor to prevent wear and tear, thus protecting us and the armor from the slowly corroding spider spit.

By my estimates, the strength of the spell is enough to withstand at least one spit, after which it will need to be cast again. A very useful spell because it partially absorbs damage: for example, it can slightly reduce the piercing power of a bullet or the impact of blunt and slashing weapons, after which the spell dissipates. The more you practice this spell, the more effective it is and the less magic it uses. I've only started using it now, but I've already seen its effectiveness.

***

Not half an hour goes by when we encounter another group of spiders. This time there are nine of them, and they actually surround us. We heard them as we approached, but they are scattered, and a compass in the extreme vegetation is as unstable as boiling water in a pot. And there are too many of them for a hunting party, and in such a wilderness, at the bottom of mountains that can barely be seen through the leaves and trees, with huge stalks stretching all around. We are exhausted by the constant exertion.

We need to rest, but camping is not a good idea in this wilderness: even if one of us stays on guard, the blood moth can sneak up on him and capture the sleeper as well. We need to find a tightly sealed room. Our hope is the lab we're looking for.

As for the spiders, they were drawn here by something else: it seems to be the orange-yellow flowers that interested us. But once they smell the ponies, the spiders switch their attention completely. Dodging their spit and shooting at the same time is a bit of a challenge. Only Motley can effectively engage in combat, and I try to cover both her and myself from the dangerous slime spewed by the spiders, creating partial barriers on the attack side.

Eventually we manage to kill four of the spiders. The cramped conditions from the vast amount of vegetation make it difficult to hit the creatures, and they skillfully make their way through these barriers; the remaining five reach us. One of them attacks the pegasus, and due to fatigue, she does not have time to dodge and confront him properly. I fail to save her from this attack. The spider bites through her armor, striking her body with venom.

Such a sight makes me dazed and distracted for a moment. A shiver runs through me.

Motley.

I release the anger that overwhelms me along with the magic that strikes the spider and the pegasus in addition. It doesn't do much damage, just throws them back a yard—they hit the trees and the green stalks that wrap around them. At least I separated the spider and Motley.

It's only been a few seconds since the bite, but the pony doesn't get to her legs, while the spider is already firmly on its eight paws and approaching her again.

Fuck, fuck!...

I forget about my own flank, and four spiders pounce on me at once. I don't have time to put a magical barrier around myself or Motley—it takes too long. My magic is about to run out, and right now it's only capable of weak and primitive telekinesis. If I try to make a barrier, there will be magical burnout. Even if I do it for the pegasus, I'll only delay her death.

I won't have time to draw my sword, and all the other weapons are out of ammo in their magazines and need to be reloaded. But then again, even if I do, I'll prolong her life by a few seconds as the spiders finish the job with me and then take on the pegasus, immobilized by the deadly poison.

Is this really the end? Are we destined to die right here, when we've barely admitted our feelings for each other? I could accept my own death, but not Motley's. She's here because of me. If I hadn't confessed my feelings to her, she wouldn't have followed me.

My heart is pounding, my ears buzzing with pressure.

All the spiders freeze in midair as if someone stopped them, and then they sprawl on the ground. The next moment, something pulls them away. In the darkness, I can't distinguish what exactly has grabbed them. The spider attacking Motley is also being pulled away by something. Moonlight filtering through the clouds and tree leaves falls on something green and wriggling, long, stalk-like stems that wrap around the trees around it.

The spiders make a piteous, thin clawing sound, all of their stalks pulling at some green rock, heavily overgrown with grass and leaves... No, it's not a rock. It's a huge green maw with small sharp outgrowths on the edges of the same color, looking like teeth. Everything inside, including the throat, is a dark pink color. Reminds me of the Venus flytrap from the Vault 22.

The stalks take turns throwing the spiders into the huge mouth, which opens greedily, awaiting its prey. It swallows the five spiders still alive in a flash, then grabs the corpses of the four we killed and devours them as well.

I stand in a daze and don't know what to do. I am once again gripped by an unspeakable terror. I want to grab my gun and start shooting at this... this thing... or something. But I decide to hold off, because the stalks are now... waiting, slowly wriggling in the air, somehow not attacking us. I notice on some of the stalks the very orange-yellow flowers with large petals. After standing in a daze for a few seconds, I remember something. Or rather, someone.

Motley!

She's still unconscious. With woozy legs, I rush to her.

Let her be alive.

I pull the antidote from my bag, remove the helmet from Motley's head, and pour the liquid into her mouth without checking her pulse, for a second's delay can cost her life.

Motley slowly swallows the antidote. She's barely conscious. Still alive! She's alive! Thank heavens.

I'm down on the rump.

To hell with it! I'm done with this dangerous traveling. I find the Dome, resolve the issue of my stay in this world, and that's it.

I'm giving the pegasus another drink of the healing potion. We only have a couple doses of the antidote left, so I decide not to use it all at once. It might come in handy; the poison hasn't done much damage to my pegasus in a short time.

I sit on pins and needles, waiting for the pony to come to her senses. The minutes of waiting take forever.

Motley slowly opens her eyes. Before she can lazily look around, I hug her gustily and tightly.

"You're alive..." I whisper, feeling the tears in my eyes. "I thought I'd lost you. I was so scared..."

"Oh... Of course I'm alive... Thanks to you. What... What happened?" she asks tiredly.

I take off my helmet and wipe my tears, then put it back on and briefly recount the events after the spider bite. She peers with rounded eyes at the green maw, which we initially mistook for an overgrown rock. The mouth is now closed and the stalks have returned to their natural position. However, they are moving slowly, showing with their whole appearance that they can come into action when needed.

After my retelling, we do not utter a word, but only look at the slightly wriggling stalks with tired amazement. They don't seem to be attacking us for some reason, though Sunny had mentioned killer plants. The rumors turned out to be true. No wonder no hunters wander here, for these stalks—while motionless—are stealthy, fast, and tenacious. But why didn't they touch us?

"It's a strange feeling: it makes you want to go near it," the pegasus remarks. Her gaze is fixed on the orange-yellow flower. "It's like I'm drawn to it. I want to go over and touch it and smell it..."

"Motley, put your helmet on, quick!" I shout sharply.

The pegasus, as if waking up from hypnosis, shakes her head, and obediently puts on her helmet.

"Why was I so drawn to him?" she asks confusedly after a few moments, looking at the flower. "I realized it, but I wouldn't have been able to resist if it hadn't been for your shout."

"The flowers must be releasing some odorless miasma or spores into the air, luring unsuspecting victims closer to them so that the trap slams shut," I suggest my hypothesis.

It makes sense: there were quite a few spiders for one hunting group, and by a strange coincidence they ended up right by these flowers. Only we arrived here earlier, and by chance, because we were not pulled by an unknown force—but the plants didn't touch us. Why would they leave us alive?

Almost immediately we come to an area covered with snow, first partially and then completely. The snow in some places is disintegrated exactly where the living stalks are. Coniferous trees and shrubs adapted to harsh weather usually grow in this climate, but here in addition to these there are these amazing thickets that have been found in more temperate climates. It's clear why Sunny is interested in researching these plants—they grow without difficulty even under snow.

There seems to be nothing surprising here, but these plants are more typical of tropical humid climates. These vines and lettuce stems are not characterized by large leaves. Even so, all the vegetation must have been affected by the radiation, and there's more of it here than ever before. Something's not right here, and Sunny Waterfall is trying to find out.

In the meantime, it even seems to me that the stalks are guiding us, moving slightly in place than disturbing the integrity of the snow cover above them, thus giving us a point of reference. And we follow those clues. It seems like a trap to me, but if the plant wanted to kill us, it would have done it back then.

Some of the stalks around here are burned by energy-magic weapon shots. I wonder... Did Professor fight them?

The remaining stalks aren't attacking us. This is all very strange... There are absolutely no large mutants here. It's completely silent. And the wind does not get here because of the high density of bushes, which are also covered with snow, which makes everything around ripples green and white.

Following the tracks for some more time and enjoying the pleasant crunch of snow under our hooves, we came to the final point of our journey. The mountains spread out in front of our eyes, with the forest ending at the foot of them. Nearby is a large mountain of plants formed by thick stems and vines peeking out from under a layer of snow, which cover part of the cliffs. From them, amazing vegetation stretches all around, a huge part of it running exactly towards the forest we came from, and the rest extending somewhere further into the mountains.

I notice something. At this cliff, covered with snow and forbidding vegetation, the guardrail of one of the roads that runs through the whole of Green Island ends, and there is a fairly level and barely noticeable area of rocks covered with snow and vegetation. Only by getting closer can we make out the outline of an abandoned vehicle.

There are many more signs of battle here. We follow to the spot from where the stalks are sprawling. We pass through a small passage in the rock between densely hanging stems and vines. Once through them, we do not enter a cave, but some kind of structure with concrete walls covered with peeling blue paint, and we do not pass through a gap in the rock, but through double wooden doors.

All around the room are long and thick stalks strewn with leaves. All this comes to a head when we accidentally touch a plant, almost starting to scorch at it in fear. A similar pattern is seen in other rooms and corridors.

This is the same research lab that Sunny assumed Professor was looking for. We're here. All we have to do is find our missing pony and get the hell out of here.

We're on the level with the offices; the labs are below. Finding nothing of interest in the offices—all the terminals or documents have been corrupted by time and the influence of plants—we take the fire escape down to the labs: the elevator doesn't work. Several rooms have ruined chemical equipment, overgrown with perennial vegetation. This is the place where plants were carefully studied. Some of the scientific equipment must be here, I can tell by the lack of plants and perennial dirt in some places.

My Pip-Boy still can't identify targets, but the helmet's visors make the interference even stronger and more noticeable. There are voices coming from one of the rooms. One voice belongs to a stallion and the other to a mare. Only her voice is a bit unusual, sounding completely unemotional and indifferent, giving me chills. The voice of a mare, or indeed of any normal living creature, cannot be so cold and unusually deep. I feel uneasy.

When we reach the threshold, we step over it, prepared for trouble, and enter a rather large room. Inside, it's covered with thick vegetation that stretches toward one place—an object, to be exact. This something reaches almost all the way to the ceiling, three to four yards high... with a huge green mouth. Thankfully, it's closed. And it's a lot more... alive than the thing that saved us from the spiders.

There are a lot of orange-yellow flowers around, covering huge stems that are more like full-fledged tree trunks in diameter. And in the center, right at the bottom of this huge plant, there are a lot of equipment boxes with flashing lights, a couple of terminals and tables with chemical flasks filled with multicolored gurgling liquid. A dirty-looking mattress lies nearby.

In the center of all this green mess are two ponies, one of which is hard to call a pony at all, and also alive, but it moves... and it's the same color as the local vegetation, and it's covered in flowers.

I'm not dreaming, am I?

There's an overabundance of green. The only things that aren't green are the one pony and a small portion of the equipment, carefully cleaned by... Professor. Somehow I have no doubt that the other pony is Professor.

Images of spore carries, shaped much like humans but in a lettuce color, come to mind. In fact, like everything in this place.

The green body turns, staring at us with empty black eyes.

Goosebumps. It makes me want to reach for the gun.

Professor also casts an interested glance at us. He's a unicorn, and a little over forty years old; his fur is a crimson-red color that makes me want to eat something sweet and berry. His mane is neatly combed forward, with a soft beige mane in which the barely visible gray curls are distinguishable. The unicorn is dressed in an interesting armor, covered in various skins. It looks very strong and resistant to the aggressive environment. The entire armor is mottled with different shades of brown, black, gray, and white. On his front left leg is a worn but working PipBuck.

This sepulchral silence, interrupted only by the sounds of instruments and the gurgling of liquids in flasks, lasts only a few seconds: it is finally interrupted by the unicorn.

"Are you two going to stand there like statues?" Professor inquires. "Or will you still identify yourselves?"

"I... I mean, we were looking for you," I mumble inaudibly, unable to gather my thoughts and not knowing how to respond.

"Don't worry about my friend," he says, lowering his gaze to the microscope's peephole and looking at something in it intently. "She won't hurt you."

"She?" I wonder. I'm still in a state of amazement at what I'm seeing.

"Even though Mushu is a sexless creature, it's somehow unseemly to be perceived as it, so I call she. Besides, Mushu is an intelligent creature. So why aren't you saying anything?" he doesn't take his eyes off the eyepiece of the microscope. The question is clearly addressed to the very same Mushu.

"Mushu?" I repeat confused.

Motley still hesitates to say anything. But the name literally washes away all the tension in the air—so funny it sounds.

"My owner thought he was cute," Mushu suddenly replies in her completely impassive and deep voice. Also, she takes her time answering, as if waiting for some sort of pause before answering. She also speaks slowly... very slowly.

"What are you?"

"A plant. I realized myself. Was just an ordinary potted plant. Ate small insects. Was a very ordinary fly plant."

"What happened?"

"An accident. A megaspell fell."

"How do you communicate through this body?"

"Telepathy."

"You're the one who saved us from the spiders and showed us the way here?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I was asked to," Mushu still as impassive and coldly answering the questions.

"I saw signs of battle on the way here. What happened?"

"Friendship."

"Friendship?"

"Yes," Professor responds, still looking through the microscope. His voice is clear, quick, like he's had a barrel of coffee. "Mushu has not yet learned how to properly use the vocal cords absorbed into her body, and she is unable to directly transmit her thoughts to others via telepathy. Why are you standing on the doorstep? Come in, sit down and rest."

He points to a mattress in the corner, once again dignifying us with a glance. We follow there and sit down on the soft mattress. Oh... it feels like I haven't rested in ages. I want to take off my helmet, but I remember about the flowers... But the Professor's face is completely unmasked. He notices my sudden delay.

"Don't worry, Mushu can control her spore secretions. When Mushu rescued you, they were still hovering in the air as she wanted to satiate the spiders that happened to be nearby. You just happened to be there by accident," he looks at me and smiles faintly. "What's your name?"

"Daniel," I take off my helmet and carefully inhale the local air. There's nothing unusual about it, just the pungent smell of fresh greenery.

"Motley," the pegasus introduces herself when the unicorn shifts his gaze to her.

"It's a pleasure. You may call me Professor."

"We know, that's why we're here," I say. "Your colleague Sunny Waterfall asked for you to be found, preferably alive. She was worried about you when you didn't give any news of yourself, having traveled deep into the Green Island territory."

"And you traveled all the way out here just for that? Though you're pretty experienced and strong since you managed to get here. And anyway, you shouldn't have bothered so much, I'm already finishing soon enough."

"And how did you manage to sneak in here by yourself?" I inquire.

"I have my own secrets... And a set of special spells," the scientist smiles enigmatically. "Though it cost me a lot of effort to get in here; also, Mushu kept stepping on me, literally, and trying to eat me in self-defense."

"So... What did Mushu mean by 'friendship'?" Motley clarifies.

"Let's just say she was disappointed in ponies and non-ponies," the crimson-red unicorn pronounces as he returns to examining something under the microscope, occasionally taking a break from observing to make a note in his notebook. "Once I managed to sneak in here, managed to convince her that not all ponies want to kill, they just need to be given a chance. After me, you're the first ones to get close enough to Mushu's direct influence. If I hadn't managed to convince her, she probably would have eaten you before the spiders even attacked."

"So how did you manage to convince her?" I inquire.

"I've seen a lot of oddities and curiosities in my life, especially a wide variety of plants, including killer plants. After all, I am a genetic scientist, and the nature of plants and mutants has always interested me. Showing my knowledge of botany, I got her interested, and managed to provoke a dialog. And that's how it started. And gradually I learned from her bits of information, but most of the information about its structure I collected with the help of local equipment, because Mushu is not used to communicate with others. That's why she talks rather slowly and in short phrases with long pauses in between."

"So what is Mushu and how did she come into existence in the first place?"

"Something like the mother of the local vegetation that appeared almost immediately after the megaspell fell nearby. Before that, there was a scientist working here who brought in her favorite potted fly plant."

Now I see how a plant alien to this cold environment has spread here.

"To her, Mushu was a favorite plant that she carefully and lovingly fed with small insects. And it was she who gave it its name. Unfortunately, the plant does not remember the name of its owner, but it remembered her love and care. In this lab, there were specimens with the IMP... Do you both see where I'm going with this?"

We nod in agreement.

"When a megaspell hit nearby, over the mountains, the lab was shaken up and some of the equipment was damaged, including several small flasks of IMP, the contents of which coincidentally landed on Mushu. She began to grow rapidly. The lab was already in chaos due to the shaking, and now there was a plant that was growing in size and devouring the ponies. Apparently, Mushu was confused by this change and growth, and at the same moment it realized its existence, stopping mindlessly devouring everyone. However, it was too late, the surviving ponies sought to kill her in fear. She tried to defend herself, to communicate with the others, to ask them to calm down, but the plant had no vocal cords and could not make the necessary sounds, and besides, she could not use our speech at all, and eventually, unable to stand it, devoured all the scientists and staff. With each new victim it devoured, it grew. Her owner was unfortunately badly injured and dying, so Mushu had no choice but to perform a merging of their two bodies, thus keeping the dying one alive. That way she was also able to control the scientist's body with telepathy."

"You mean..." I look at the green body covered with flowers and foliage.

"Exactly. That's Mushu's owner."

"Is she still alive?"

"Consciousness is in the body, but in 'sleep mode'. Her life is being sustained by Mushu. Even if she lets go, that is, removes her control from the owner's consciousness, nothing will happen because the scientist cannot come to her senses due to the highly altered body, and the process is unfortunately irreversible. But if somehow it is possible to reverse the process, Mushu's owner can be given expert medical care and she can be saved."

"But, since the process is irreversible, why are you considering an impossible option by saying 'if'?" I questioned interestedly.

My mind had already calmed down and gotten used to the presence of the green creature called Mushu.

"Sooner or later, impossible things can be possible through science. All it takes is patience, time and effort."

"And what is your impossible but potentially possible goal?" I ask jokingly.

"RMS."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Reverse Mutation Serum. Reverse Transformation Potion... There are quite a few names you can think of. It was just me jokingly giving my ambitions a name. Without going into details, I can say that I wish to create a base that would be suitable for any type of mutation, initiating the transformation in reverse."

"A universal serum... That's... Impossible," I say.

"Throughout my life, I've been researching all sorts of mutations and ways to cure them. Even if I don't achieve it, I at least want to get closer to realizing that dream. I want to create a foundation whose basis can be adapted for any mutation that exists: for example, returning Mushu's owner to her former state."

"So... we were talking about Mushu..." Motley suddenly pitches her voice.

"Right," the scientist continues. "Mushu was able to indirectly influence the soil of Green Island when she was able to reach with her stems to it. It contributed to the rapid greening after the megaspell's devastating effects, but thanks to the mountains, the deleterious effect was not as huge. Still, gradually devouring the flesh, she proliferated. It can only directly control its stems at a distance of a few miles from this laboratory, luring local animals with bait flowers, and beyond that it can only 'feel' the presence of those nearby. By the way, it is Mushu who controls the population of huge spiders and blood butterflies. If it weren't for her, Phoenix Threshold would be overrun with those things."

"They're quite unusual..." I utter.

"That's right. The little indoor spiders and butterflies in the lab got into the liquid with the IMP. That's how they multiplied and turned into dangerous creatures. There were many more species, but the weaker ones succumbed to the stronger ones. Their nests and hives were here as well; Mushu absorbed them, but they had by then managed to create nests outside the lab as well."

"And what are these myths about killer plants, and where did they come from?" the pegasus is curious.

"I told you, Mushu had a grudge against other creatures and only devoured for protection if someone wandered in here. I can't blame those ponies from the lab for their fear and prejudice, especially after what happened, but it was fate, and getting her to dialog with the others wouldn't have worked, even if she had sent her body to negotiate. It's more likely that the people of Phoenix Threshold just attack her when they see her—remember your reaction when you first saw her. Pretty unusual and creepy looking... No offense," the last words are addressed to Mushu.

"None taken," she mutters slowly.

"Why were our detection systems giving off interference?" I ask.

"Because of Mushu's structure, allowing her to control a portion of the stalks nearby and sense someone else's presence with them at a longer distance. These 'nerves' were the cause of the interference when their particular radiation reached your sensors, affecting their operation. Simply put, where you first began to malfunction is where Mushu sensed your presence. I know from experience what interference is like."

At these words, he looks at us again for a moment, lifting his leg with the time-worn PipBuck into the air, then, lowering his leg, picks up the notebook with telekinesis and writes something down in it. Once done, he sets the pen aside and looks over his notes with concentration, flipping through the pages.

"When we were surrounded by spiders, why didn't Mushu intervene immediately?"

"Figured you could handle it on your own," she answers for herself.

Which, in fact, is to be expected. Motley suddenly lies down on the mattress and sighs heavily. I look at the tired pegasus and smile understandingly, then turn to Professor.

"How long will your work take?"

"We can call it a day." He closes the notebook and examines his other entries in the terminal and in the papers on the table. "What I wanted to know, I got. There's nothing keeping me on Green Island now until I find better equipment."

"What about Mushu?"

"I'm used to being alone. Professor satisfied my hunger." Mushu takes a long pause, then adds, "Not literally."

"I get it," I smile softly. "Live interaction is necessary for everyone." Mushu tries to smile. It comes out amusing and a little creepy as the smile stretches almost to the limit.

"Professor, would you be interested in joining us?" I suggest. A pony like this in our group would be a great asset. The combination of fighting ability and high intelligence is quite rare.

"That's an interesting proposition. What do you need me for?"

"Have you heard of a project called the Dome?"

Professor turns to me with an interested face, looking expectantly into my eyes.

"I am aware of the legend, however, I have my doubts: it may just be a popular tale that I hear about throughout my life. I would rather believe in a cornucopia than this. The Dome was invented before the war just to keep the Zebras busy with their endless search for it, leaving the facts supposedly supporting its existence to do so."

"A familiar opinion. Inherent in many. But there is confirmation nonetheless. I have more than once come across pre-war memory orbs associated with mention of this project and the ponies involved in its construction. I also know that to get into the Dome, you must collect six special key cards, two of which I've already found, though I don't have them on me."

"I must admit I admire your meticulousness, but that doesn't change the fact that the Dome may simply not be complete, or it may have been destroyed by the unpredictable effects of time or some other factor. It's gone. And all the key cards and documents were created to prove the Zebras otherwise."

"There's a chance of that, granted, but it wouldn't be unreasonable to try your luck. Besides, even if the Dome didn't survive to this day, or didn't exist at all, we'll still get the result of finally putting an end to this popular legend."

"Ambitious pony you are, Daniel," the stallion hums. "Just like me," he adds, smiling slightly. "So be it, I'll go with you. I don't have a permanent home right now anyway. Not unless I'm frequently distracted from my research. And yes, I need a place to do that. You have one, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, plus there's a hydroponics room that could be useful for growing the plants you need. However, at the time I arrived, almost all of the scientific and technical equipment there was damaged beyond repair. If you can get the instruments and equipment you need."

"That won't be a problem," the pony gently interrupts me in his quick, clear voice. "There's plenty of equipment here that will be useful for continuing my research. Some of it can be repaired and brought to your home."

"The bunker," I smile. "And there's an AI there with a quality repair robot, and yes I'm good with electronics and mechanics myself, so I can also help with fixing equipment."

"How interesting... My last doubts about the decision to come with you are gone. The AI's computational and analyzing capabilities can be incredible, which will help me with research... or the realization of ideas. That reminds me: you weren't sent here for free, were you?"

"Of course. I don't know how Sunny will repay me, though. I think I see where you're going with this. Asking for what you want as a reward?"

"You are a shrewd pony. Indeed. Yes, but the information I've gleaned here will also do for a good fee. As a blood relative of the Waterfall Family, she can get things that mere mortals aren't allowed to."

"Alright, have it your way. Aren't you curious as to the purpose of my seeking the Dome?" I inquire, looking at the Professor gathering his things.

"Not really, since I don't believe in its existence. The most important thing for me is to not be distracted from my work or harm it in any way. The rest I don't particularly care about, though I might be interested in..." The unicorn suddenly lapses into a stupor, looking at the flashing equipment. "I overlooked which way we're going to carry this."

"Don't worry, Professor. I have the proper transportation—a Vertibuck."

"You never cease to surprise me," the crimson-red unicorn smiles, looking at me with its silver-colored eyes.

I turn on the transmitter in the spare PipBuck, giving Blaze a signal. I do it outside so he knows exactly where to land. Mushu kindly removes the stalks from the parking lot, having also moved some of the cars and wagons aside for my Venture to land freely. After a while, the familiar rumble of propellers is heard. My beauty is approaching.

"What an interesting and lucky find this Vertibuck is, isn't it? She's so useful..." a familiar voice sounds.

"Who's there?" I say out loud and look around, but I don't see anyone.

"There's no need to look around. I'm in your head," the voice says. It sounds so clear and sharp, as if someone is actually sending a signal into it, but why is this voice so familiar to me...

That's right. It's like my own inner voice, except for some reason I can't control it. And it feels separate and independent.

"You figured it out after all," he say, a sarcastic tone in his voice. "That's right. I'm you, we share the same memories, but unlike you, I still want to return to a human body. You chose to stay in this world, trying to have a relationship with a pony. I'll be honest: I'm disappointed."