"Why exactly Stable 66?" my voice trembles.

"You've accomplished many fateful things in a short period of time... Which in itself is impossible. If you don't come back, that's how I'll know how dangerous the 66 is. I'd go myself, but I'm not allowed to leave the city to the families alone. Besides, let me remind you, there's a reward of one hundred thousand caps from me personally for information about this Stable. Many have gone after it, but to no avail, as you can see. I've sent Kings there repeatedly. If you don't come back... I'll have to think of something."

"Why me? Why wouldn't I be tasked with tracking down and destroying some particularly dangerous gang of Crater raiders as a test mission?"

"I have big plans for you. I want to make sure you can take on all my assignments."

"What plans?"

"It's too early for you to know. Are you going to take it or not?"

"It's suicide."

"Not for your level. You obviously see more than others. Notices things others don't. That's why you've accomplished so much. Besides, I'm sure Stable 66 can't be impregnable. There must be a loophole or vulnerability somewhere."

I don't know what to answer.

"You want to be a King, don't you?" Prince clarifies.

"Yes..."

"You will be. And it's a task you'll do well with. Besides, your reputation will skyrocket after this. The first explorer of Stable 66. You'll be feared. You'll be respected. You'll be a force to be reckoned with. And that'll be just what I need."

"Going there tomorrow..." I squeeze out with difficulty.

"Good. Now I must take my leave, for business requires my attention."

"Huh, wow. I didn't expect you to say yes right away. What are you gonna tell Motley?"

Uh, I don't know.

"Caroline mentioned that something unusual was sent to this Stable. Do you think it's connected to the Dome?"

Well, even if it is... it's a deadly place.

"We can handle it. Look at our past."

How can you be so sure?

"A feeling. Especially if we go alone, it'll be easier to focus on our own survival without thinking of others. Prince was right about respect, too. We need that kind of reputation. We've come too far. Eileen Softhooves won't cross you if you return from Stable 66."

If I survive.

"You gotta think positive. What are you worried about? It's not like it's the first time."

For Motley... and Lemon.

"Oh, uh. Right. They won't sit still for you going alone to this mystical place."

Lemon's gonna hate me for sure. I need some fresh air.

***

When I reach the roof of my casino, I'm about to activate the PipBuck's tracking sensor to notify Blaze that I need to be picked up, but I stop when I see the pony sitting motionless on the roof railing. Her back is to me, so she doesn't notice my presence. To satisfy my curiosity, I decide to take my time leaving and find out what she's doing here: the roof of my casino is not usually visited by anyone—it's not a place meant for public access.

I carefully approach and look at her. She doesn't even pay me any attention, as thoughts have obviously taken over her entire mind. The gaze of the snow-white earth pony with the black mane is completely blank and indifferent. It is staring at the lighted streets of the city. Her hind legs dangle from the fence. Dangerous: one wrong move and she could fall. I prepare to catch her with telekinesis just in case. I don't like that gloomy, aloof look. And it's also possible to make a sudden movement and fall off the roof.

"Beautiful view, isn't it?" I ask without much interest, standing to her right and looking down, but trying not to lose sight of the deeply thoughtful mare. Not that she doesn't shudder in surprise when she hears my voice, but she doesn't even look surprised or turn to look at the person I'm talking to.

"I guess..." she replies absent-mindedly. Her tone gives away that she's not really in the mood for conversation.

"Well, how else would she be?" I say, standing up on my hind legs and leaning on my right side, folding my front legs fashionably. I turn to her with a faint smile on my face, trying to portray friendliness. "What other purpose is there in looking out over the city like that, disregarding your own safety?"

The pony is silent. She doesn't even turn her head.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"What does it matter now... My life will soon no longer belong to me," she replies, still not dignifying me with a glance.

"What do you mean?" I frown.

Wording an answer like that doesn't bode well.

"What I said. No more, no less."

"Ugh..." I sigh disappointedly, hiding my unease. "Why is everyone so confined in this town? They don't even want to have a conversation. Most masters would just ignore me or tell me to go fuck myself."

"That's how this town is. No one cares about the lives of others here. Nobody cares."

"That's our harsh reality..." I say, looking down at the passing masters and slaves again. It's dark now, and a chilly fall wind walks around. I squirm. "Aren't you cold?"

"No," the white pony answers briefly and without delay.

"Why don't we go inside and talk in the warmth and comfort?"

"I'm perfectly fine here."

"You said your life would no longer belong to you. What's that supposed to mean?"

Although I already partially understand what she means, it's not unreasonable to clarify the position. The mare lowers her eyes and ponders.

"Debts," she finally answers after a short pause.

"So how did you end up in this position?"

"Well... It's a long story. Life is shit."

"I agree. But it's beautiful nonetheless."

"And how is it beautiful in any way?!" the pony snaps back, throwing me an angry look. "Where's any beauty in it?!" The pony examines my face questioningly.

"Beauty is always subjective," I reply calmly. "Everyone finds for themselves what is beautiful to them. It's more correct to say life is interesting."

"And if there's nothing wonderful in this shitty life?! Then why do we have to go on living at all?" she desperately demands an answer. Her gaze burns with anger and doom. "What's the point of it all! We're living in shit! Every life is valued in caps! Our whole lives are one continuous mistake. We're nothing to each other!" The anger is replaced by despair and pain. The pony's eyes get wet and she sniffs her nose, lowering her head. "It's all pointless," she adds.

I want to hug her here and now, but it would seem strange or suspicious to her.

"Everything is relative. There are no things in this world that are definitely bad or good," I reason. "Benefits and flaws can be found in everything. And everyone sees them with their own eyes, determining for themselves how important they are."

"Why do you say that?" she asks indifferently, without raising her gaze.

"You're so caught up in thinking about the worthlessness and shortcomings of your existence that you don't notice the positive things. Those things are different for everyone. The world around us depends on how we perceive it, what we find pleasant or unpleasant. Much depends on our thoughts. Not everything, but a lot. Even pain... some experience a certain level of pleasure from it, like masochists, and some faint over a small scratch—even at the sight of that scratch on another."

"Maybe. But my life, like I said, is no longer my own. I'm fucked one way or another..." she says hopelessly.

"What did you borrow for?"

"Oh, just that I'm a complete fool, that's all!" she sobs. "The job was crap, barely enough to eat. So I decided to make a better life for myself. And by my own fucking stupidity, I got into gambling."

Yikes...

"Borrowed a large sum of caps for gambling in the hope of winning more, and, uh... fucked it all up."

"How much?"

"Three thousand caps. With interest and in a short period of time I had to pay back five thousand. My pathetic apartment isn't even close to being worth that much. Clearly, I had nothing to mortgage but my own life."

"In other words, if you don't pay your debt, you'll be made a slave?"

"Uh-huh," I hear her say. "They'll make me a whore, sell me to some pervert, give me to experiments or sadists as a beat toy."

"Why not run away then?"

"To where?" the pony turns, glaring at me. "There's no point in hiding in the city. Unless you're homeless. Run to the Crater and become a raider if I'm lucky? Nah... I'd rather die than turn into a monster, and I don't think I'd survive there. And even in the Wasteland. I don't know how to survive there! Being a whore and handing my ass to everyone? No way! Better a short life than a long, low and dirty one. It's my own fault. I shouldn't have taken that risk. And I've got to make my own mark... wet and big..." she looks down.

"What's the deadline for repayment?" I ask as if casually.

"Until tomorrow. That's what I'm saying, soon my life will no longer belong to me," she says bitterly, without looking at me.

"She lost all the caps at your casino. Are you responsible for her suicide?"

As the Professor said. I don't have to be responsible for someone if I give them responsibilities. I didn't force that pony to gamble. I didn't force her to do anything. It's her choice. She could have lost her caps at another casino. Doesn't have to be mine.

"But?"

I'm responsible for something else now. Interfering with her attempted suicide. I'm standing by. I could choose not to intervene, but then her death would be on my conscience. It would mean I didn't do anything to help her. She'll die because of my non-interference when I could have prevented her death.

I reach into my pockets and pull out a checkbook and a pen by telekinesis. And I give the white pony a check for seven thousand caps. As I fill out the paper, the pony first glances at me interestedly and then looks at the check floating in front of her in a blue haze, confused.

"W-what... this?" she babbles faintly.

"Caps in payment of your debt with bonus accrual."

"Why?"

The look of rounded eyes swings shockingly between me and the check. She clearly can't believe what's happening.

"What do you mean why? Don't you have a debt to pay off?"

I try not to smile—lest she take my offer as a joke.

"To give hope and have it so cruelly destroyed. Yes, that would be really... inhuman."

"No... why are you helping me?" she wonders. A wave of aggressive skepticism and distrust hits her. "What's the catch in this? What do you want? For me to become your slave and please you? Or do you want to use me for some other purpose? Publicly mock me, beat me, piss on my face or mouth? And have me admire the gifts of your body? As my master who knows how to control me?"

"What? No," I say.

"It's natural to be suspicious of others, especially if they offer you money. That's an interesting list of assumptions, and a long one at that. How much she's imagined about the life of a slave, albeit not unreasonably so."

Suddenly she sobs.

"What do you want me to do for you..." she whispers apprehensively, lowering her gaze. "I... I-I... don't want to die. I can't... would do anything... just..."

She's trembling with fear. It's impossible to watch. I move closer and put my front legs around her—she shudders sharply at my touch and tenses up.

"Shh... Calm down," I lightly stroke her back. She begins to relax. "In a matter of life and death, never rush to conclusions. A final decision to either side will mean it will be your last. Do you realize that?" A barely audible "uh-huh" comes as an answer. I speak slowly and quietly. "Good. You're doing great. I'm glad you realize that. Now, uh... there's only one thing I want. And don't worry: none of what you listed. I want you to take this check, give me the money you need. Find a job that suits you, and send me a letter from your new job. Is that arrangement okay with you?" I ask jokingly.

"Absolutely..." she says quietly, sniffing her nose. "It's just... I'm not sure I can handle it."

"You will. The important thing is to calm down now," I move slightly away from her so I can look into her eyes while still holding her. "Take a good, deep breath. Walk and think, take your time. It's easier to think while walking, I know from experience. Tomorrow is still almost 26 hours away. Oh, also, stop gambling and relying on gambling, and ideally stop gambling altogether," I glare at her sternly.

I'll have to tell Bland somehow, so the croupiers at my casino won't let the customers lose a lot.

"Ok-kay... I... will do my best."

"Fine. That's what I wanted to hear," I smile, slipping the check into the inside pocket of her clothes. "Now get off."

I help her back onto the concrete surface of the roof. She's having a hard time standing on her feet because of her worry.

"Don't tell anyone where you got that money from, and don't tell anyone about it except those you owe it to. In case you get robbed."

"Yeah... I understand. But..." Judging by the tremor in her voice, she can't realize what's happening to her right now, and what's come over her. "I can't understand... why you gave me so much money? Why you helped a stretchy mare like me, and... I'm inept..."

"Experience doesn't come for free either. I'm investing in your future and potential skills. And besides, your mark would look bad against my establishment," I allow myself a smile. The pony's mouth falls open in amazement. "Yes, I am the owner of this casino. Consider the casino returning your losses... with interest."

"Sweet Celestia..." the pony exhales crushingly.

"I hope the investment will be worthwhile and I won't be disappointed," I say sweetly.

"No, no, no!" she waves her front hooves in protest. "I'll do my best, and I won't take any more chances like that."

"Trying your luck can be done—but you don't have to go to extremes. You have to be careful."

The other person in my head is laughing hysterically.

Why are you laughing?

"She..." the other me starts through the laughter, "...said she... wouldn't... risk it... again." The voice in my head stops laughing and sighs in relief. "I was just remembering how many times we've risked our own skin. What ventures we've gotten ourselves into. That pony took one such big risk once—and royally fucked it up. We take risks almost every day and mostly get away with it, but the important thing is we're still alive."

You're right. Who are we to judge this pony for taking rash risks?

The pony shuffles her hooves in impatience and indecision, nearly bouncing in place while smiling radiantly and glowing with joy.

"What's the matter?" I inquire.

"Can I hug you now?" she blurts out fervently.

"I'd love to, why not..."

Before I can finish my sentence, the pony is already enclosing me in a hug that's pretty tight.

"Yeah, ponies sure do love hugs. You've grown quite fond of them lately, too."

"Thank you! Thank you again," she repeats, then lets go of me and timidly looks into my eyes with ineffable respect and admiration. "You gave me a second chance. Saved my life, even though you don't even know me!"

"If there's any trouble finding a suitable job, rest assured: you can go to Bland, here at the casino, or the Bluerise at the Oasis at any time and tell them you're from Daniel Evans. And you'll definitely have an income and at least some work."

"I don't even know what to say, Daniel..."

It's moments like this that make me not regret spending caps.

"We don't."

"Will you finally tell me your name?" I ask.

The pony laughs serenely, as if a huge stone has been dropped from her soul. It makes me feel good to see others feel good about themselves. I don't throw lids to the wind—I spend them on pleasurable experiences for others, for the benefit of others. I love doing that, especially when those lids are in abundance.

"Of course! To such a generous pony, and not to say... Beyond disrespectful! My name is..."

***

After the rooftop incident is safely concluded, Blaze flies in to pick me up and delivers me to Heavenly Harbor on Venture.

Motley greets me with a kiss. Noticing the look on my face, she asks anxiously what happened. I reply that Prince has sent me on a test mission before he makes me a King, and the sadness of having to go alone, without her.

She hugs me and tells me not to worry. She says it'll be okay, that she believes in my abilities.

I feel so bad, so disgusted that I didn't tell her exactly where I am going. I don't tell anyone about my destination, supposedly so that no one will follow me and ruin the mission. I try not to show it and keep my cool, but in my heart I suffer and almost cry. For the first time I seriously consider my death, for before I was driven mainly by instincts; I had no clear idea of my future. I ponder what might happen to that sweet pony when she learns of my death. How she would react.

"She'll blame herself for not going with you."

I try to distract myself and relax with the pegasus. It works, but only temporarily. After a few minutes, I feel sad when she snuggles up to me and falls soundly asleep. I don't want to leave.

I try to fall asleep, but I only end up sleeping for about four hours. The anxiety won't leave me. I have to go now.

I kiss the beige pony—probably for the last time—putting all the tenderness and warmth I can.

I quietly and carefully crawl out from under the blanket and prepare my gear. I decide to leave the rifle as my main weapon, and take the shotgun with me for... close encounters, as they say. In tight spaces, it's a good idea.

I take one last look at the sleeping pony and my heart aches. I never told the truth about my origins. A worthless coward. I don't want to seem crazy in her eyes, and she'll probably reject me when she finds out—even though I already act like a pony and am physically no different from one. Kind of like a pony, but at the same time...

"You haven't tasted the strawberry dessert yet. It's too early to die."

That's right. We'll have to try hard not to die.

"Good luck on your mission," Caroline says on the way out.

"Under no circumstances," I ask her, "don't let Berry and Motley go after me. No matter what happens."

"But..."

"Please. For their safety. I'll be gone a long time, but don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"I... I'll try."

"Good."

I take the elevator down to the back entrance of the bunker. I walk up to a large car with brown thick armor, protective bars on the windows, and reinforced wheels. Just a bear... Slow, clumsy, old, but solid as a rock. It's got just enough fuel to get to Stable 66 and back.

I open the door, start the engine, and drive out of the cave. The car immediately stalls, and I can't hold back a smile.

Damn it...

It's like I've missed his breakdowns.

***

After a few hours and a few breakdowns, I reach my destination and shut down the engine.

The entrance to the 66 is located in a cliff. To the right, the Crater can be seen in the distance. To the clouds to the left rises the tower of the Vanhoover Jammer Tower.

At the entrance there are many signs that foretell danger to those who enter this cave—"YOU WILL MEET YOUR DEATH HERE!", "DO NOT ENTER!", "YOU WILL NEVER RETURN!".

I can feel the gloomy aura emanating from this place in my gut, especially the howling wind, which is dreary and hopeless. It seems particularly gloomy and unsettling.

I take out a mug and pour some berry juice. There's not much left. I take a sip, looking at the entrance.

How many died out there...

"Don't think about it. I'm sure everyone went there with thoughts of superstition and all sorts of tales. We've been through a lot, seen a lot of that sort of thing—including places from which 'no one ever came back'. Let's go in there with determination in our hearts, without fear or regret like we used to. What secrets are hidden there?"

But if...

"You're not dead yet, but with that attitude, you'll definitely die: if you miss the moment, you're dead. Like Prince said, pay attention. Also think of strawberry dessert if you ever think of dying. I'm supposed to control the body at times like this, but I don't know how to use it as effectively as you do. So don't you dare give me the heebie-jeebies just for the hell of it, or I'll give you a goddamn hard time!"

I smile again.

I know how to cheer myself up. It's hard to make me angry, but if I do, then hide from me as fast as you can. I've already imagined what would happen if I really pissed off the other part of me.

"You bet!" the voice laughs briefly. "Chin up, you piece of pony meat! Don't let yourself get upset because of that body! By the way, because you didn't sleep well last night and were anxious, you forgot to mark today's date and the day of our stay in the Pip-Boy."

That's right. Today is the first day of the Month of Rain, Redday. The sixty-sixth day of my stay.

"Sixty-sixth..."

I nearly choke on my berry juice and cough, inhaling deeply. What a mystery...

"Yes and I'm in shock. We came to this world, explored it. Lived. Killed. It's a Stable with the sixty-six in the numbering, shrouded in myths and superstitions from which there is no return. And we're going to this place on the sixty-sixth fucking day of our stay. It's like some mystical force has led us. Guiding us, protecting us. A visit to this place is inevitable, by the looks of it. Isn't that a sign that we'll survive?"

If we accept the assumption that we came into this world by someone else's will.

"What's not a confirmation that everything is not by chance?"

I finish my berry juice, get out of the car, and close the door. It's as if the coincidence has encouraged me.

I get closer to the entrance. It's completely dark. I'm already uneasy.

I turn on the flashlight on my helmet, forcing the darkness to part, and take my Apostle, the Defender, into the levitation field. He must defend me. After all, that's its purpose, isn't it?

I walk, shuffling softly on the ground, bringing some sound to this silent cavern. Dust rises slightly from my hoofsteps. There is nothing here but earth and rocks. It is only after walking a little farther that I see a huge and so familiar gear-shaped opening at the end of the cave. As said—the door of the Stable is open. If someone has returned with this information, then I have not yet crossed the line of no return.

Stepping closer to the threshold, I glance around the entrance room. Everything here is covered in dust and rust, but not a single skeleton or sign of battle. I haven't even crossed the threshold yet, and already I'm getting an uneasy feeling about this place.

I swallow nervously and lift my front foot to step forward, hesitate for a few seconds, but step inside. Immediately I feel heavy and weak. Either it's the anxiety, or... What the- Why does the shotgun suddenly feel so heavy to me?

Walking a little further, I notice interference in my helmet, as if it were not strong bright flashes. The Pip-Boy and backup PipBuck are starting to malfunction a bit, too. No markings appear on the compass.

I pass the entrance room and move timidly into the next. Three corridors appear before me: one in front, the second and third to my right and left, respectively. I hear the distant hum of working life-support equipment. So many years have passed, and it still works perfectly, despite the dirt, rust, and lack of maintenance.

The corridor in front of me, based on the directions above its entrance, leads directly into the atrium. The left is the technical area, and the right is the living quarters.

All right, let's check out the atrium.

As soon as I left the threshold, the doors suddenly slammed shut behind me, and with such unnatural speed that they could have easily snapped my body in half. I jump up to the ceiling at the sharp sound, nearly shooting the damn door open.

Why the fuck did it close so fast anyway? The automatic is broken?

I try to open it, but to no avail; the door won't budge. I try a teleportation spell, but the magic just dissipates into nothing. So I've just wasted some of my energy. Fuck! There's nothing left to do but keep moving forward. There's no turning back.

As I walk a little more, I can feel the usual telekinesis taking more and more of my magic. Seeing no targets on Pip-Boy's compass, I holster my shotgun and continue on my way, listening carefully for unusual muffled sounds. What they are, I can't even guess.

It's unbearable to keep walking with my helmet on, and I can see interference and strange flashes everywhere. I take it off and cautiously breathe in the local air. As expected, it's heavy and musty, damp with a metallic tang reminiscent of blood. The place smells of death and decay, and the muffled sounds turn out to be someone's barely audible voices, as if they are inside my head.

"I hear them too, and it's not me whispering to you..." I hear the distinct voice of the other me, which has a note of worry and anxiety in it.

I anxiously look at the Pip-Boy and the PipBuck again—no marks. I don't like this... really don't like it.

When I reach the end of the empty corridor, when my nerves are already stretched to the limit by this pressurizing atmosphere, I enter the atrium. There is no one there, only silence. Strangely, the whispering is gone, as is the foul odor. My ears are pressed into absolute silence. It's also dark and suspiciously clean.

Wait, there's a silhouette of a pony in the darkness, standing backwards toward me, completely naked, staring stupidly at the wall. As soon as I notice him, a neutral mark appears on the malfunctioning Pip-Boy and the PipBuck. Judging by its long mane and tail, it's a mare. Her mane and tail flutter freely and slowly, hypnotizingly in all directions, as if gravity had no effect on them.

I swallow nervously.

"Miss? Are you okay?" I turn to her. Suddenly, I hear a slight whisper from her, like she's mumbling something unintelligible to herself. "Hello?"

I am deafened by a sickening, chilling screech or scream from several voices at once. The pony turns unnaturally abruptly and rushes at me so fast that I don't have time to react, only to see her empty, black eyes. The eyes of a nightmare.

A loud shrill screech restrains my movements, and she 'flies' at me. I am frozen with horror, my body almost paralyzed, panic gripping me. Covering my ears with my hooves, I can't move, and this nightmare overtakes me. My heart beats frantically in my chest. A feeling of suffocation arises.

I close my eyes in terror and prepare for the worst, feeling the unspeakable fear and cold on my skin. My legs give out and I fall on my stomach, holding my breath against the unknown.

Then the loud screech fades back to a whisper.

I cautiously open one eye and find myself staring at the ceiling, with a faint yellow light pouring out of the lamps all around me. Not only did I nearly go deaf from the screeching, which still echoes in my ears, but I nearly went insane. It all happened in one or two seconds, if it had lasted any longer...

What the fuck was that?!

I'm about to breathe a sigh of relief, but the stench of dried blood and decomposition hits my nose. My face twisted in disgust, my eyes watering, the stench so bad I could hang an axe on it.

I struggle to my hooves. I still have the image of the nightmare mare in front of my face, as if I'd been staring at the light source for a long time and turned away. The horror I experienced and the squeal, sharp as a needle driven deep into my ear, are still in my mind.

Why did the lighting improve, where did that nasty odor come from so suddenly? I look around, and my blood runs cold: there are many corpses of varying degrees of decomposition. Some of them still have the color of their fur, and others look like skeletons, having been here for over a century. There are so many of them that the floor is carpeted with them. Near me lies the remains of a purple pony, with her distinctive spiked armor and long-healed scars. She died relatively recently.

A nightmare beyond compare. I've never seen such horror before. It's truly a cursed place. The PipBuck and the Pip-Boy are still giving off static and there's no compass marks.

I gotta find out what the hell's going on.

***

After the terrifying event in the atrium, I go to the medical section nearby.

I can still hear the whispering that is indistinct and slightly frightening. There are many voices, all speaking in unison, so it is impossible to distinguish anything. The whispers are barely audible, the sounds of walking drowning them out. I keep coming across the remains of ponies and griffons along the way. I sometimes don't notice the physical damage on the bodies of the most fresh victims. I also find evidence of gunfire: scattered shell casings, bullet holes in the walls.

The victims were trying to shoot back or defend themselves.

And another oddity: when I look again into the corridor from which I entered the atrium, the remains of ponies appear there out of the blue. Not as many as in the great hall. Their sudden appearance leads me to believe that something like psychotropic substances may have been sprayed here, as in the administration building of the Rainbow Mine gem quarry my friends and I had recently visited.

There is a possibility that something similar is going on here. However, the sudden locking door—which can be attributed to malfunctioning automatics, faulty mechanism and door detectors—and inexplicably occurring complications with magic do not make it possible to put forward or accurately confirm any definite hypothesis of what is going on. And yet I still have a connection to my other me that I didn't have when we inhaled the Twilight Demon. And we contemplated the visions it brought on separately. Though it was possible that all of this, even my other me, had been induced in me by some psychotropic gas or something.

It's to the medical section that I decide to go for more details—maybe I'll find some answers there.

There's dead bodies inside the medical section, too. Not just on the operating tables. The grim atmosphere presses on my brain, fear and horror at the realization bubbling up inside me. What all these ponies have been through... Probably died of a heart attack after what they saw.

The remains of a pony huddled in a corner, as if she was trying to hide from something.

Poor thing...

The short-lived sympathy briefly relieves me of the mood that the depressing environment around me inspires.

The doctor's terminal is turned off, but I manage to resuscitate it and review the records. I quickly move on to looking at the most recent records by date, as the first ones are the usual reports of accidents and standard illnesses and diseases. As I look through the most recent records, I notice a definite pattern in them.

"Record 167. Patient Rainy Fields.

Ms. Fields came to see me for advice today because she has been having nightmares, sometimes even in her real life. She complained of constant fatigue from lack of sleep, which was beginning to affect her productivity. I gave her a sedative and assured her that it should help her."

"Record 168. Patient Grey Fork.

No sooner had Ms. Fields left me than the very next patient began complaining of nightmares and voices in his head. I told him that it was probably from too much physical exertion he was putting himself through at his job in the technical department and from the stress he was under. I advised him to work less and rest more often, but I gave him a sedative just in case."

Within a couple of days, other residents of the 66 have similar problems. The situation was getting progressively more complicated, the symptoms of nervous disorders were getting worse, and the sedatives were not helping the patients at all. After the patients started coming back with worsening conditions, the doctor decided to do some tests after all. And nothing special, except for an unusual feeling of fear and fatigue, was found.

The well-being of half of the residents was rapidly deteriorating. The doctor didn't even separate the reports of each patient anymore, just wrote down the symptoms and the names of the patients underneath them. This was much easier, since everyone had the same problems: nightmares, auditory hallucinations... and eventually even suicidal and violent tendencies. The doctor had no idea what was causing all this. The Overmare was notified and tried to do something about it, organizing general gatherings and talking about the problem, but it was no use. Everyone only talked about the constant nightmares and various hallucinations causing malaise, fatigue and mental instability. Within a week, everyone—with the exception of foals and foals without cutie marks—had been subjected to 'nightmare fever'. The foals were the only ones who did not have nightmares or hallucinations.

At the same time, the doctor's notes and reports were becoming less and less coherent and more emotional due to exhaustion—to the point where the doctor herself believed the horrors, saying that ghosts wanted to take her body. She kept her sanity right up until the accidents and suicides started happening. The latter were caused by the same hallucinations and nightmares. Then the doctor finally lost her mind, giving out completely meaningless ragged phrases that someone wants to pull the soul out of her body and get control over it. And not just anyone, but demons and ghosts.

It's just nonsense. I'm starting to worry, though, that the hallucinations aren't bringing me to this state, either. I've got to open the door and get out of here before I...

"The mass loss of sanity reminds me of the events in Vault 106, where the residents were exposed to hallucinogenic effects. Maybe it's the same situation here."

Doesn't explain the crazy door or the weakened magic. Though it could be a side effect of the gases, which is unlikely: I was wearing a tightly closed helmet when it started. Or maybe I'm imagining things and this horror isn't really happening.

"Or is it not the psychotropic gases after all?"

I get up from my chair, and a translucent black silhouette of a pony appears right in front of me—literally out of thin air. It looks more like a weightless moving living cloud or fog than anything else. It's literally inches from my face. Indescribable fear restrains my movements again, preventing me from even moving.

I want to scream, but I can't—it's like it's stuck somewhere in my throat. I want to run away, but the fear paralyzes me. I have no choice but to gawk and open my mouth in horror, staring at the horrible thing.

The black cloud reaches for me, ignoring my armor and wrapping long, intangible tentacles around me. Their touch is cold... even icy. It's as if I'm being sucked into some vast, endless hole of darkness and horror, and the whispers around me become distinct, their voices merged together, desperately repeating a single word: "MINE!". The black silhouette slowly envelops me, and the unspeakable horror and the already clearly audible, intensified to a desperate screaming whisper became stronger and stronger.

At this point, I lose my sense of the reality of what is happening and begin to mentally sink into darkness. It is as if you are running toward the light, but no matter how hard you run, an invisible force pulls you back. I can't think at all—I am only aware of this unimaginable horror.

Suddenly it all stops: the black silhouette and the desperate voices disappear without a trace, and the sensation makes my legs tremble; I fall to the cold floor, almost unconscious. At the same time, everything seems somehow... distant, as if I am watching myself... from the inside. I try to get up, but my trembling legs won't let me.

Wait...

I wasn't going to get up. What the...

"You're awake at last." I feel my lips move as I say those words. "Oh... I said that out loud, didn't I?"

My body tries to stand up again, and fails again.

What's going on?

"Just as I expected: just as I managed to gain control of my body, I immediately feel an unpleasant sensation... Like I'm wearing a scratchy sweater."

Are you Daniel?

"No, fucking Santa Claus! Of course I am! What's wrong with you that you let this unknown shit try to drive you crazy? Wait, don't tell me, I can already feel the fear you're experiencing. Oh. Oh, damn it. That was terrible. And I'm guessing you haven't quite gotten over it yet. Well, I don't fully understand it either, but after you saw that dark thing, it was like you lost control of yourself, letting me have free control of your body. Like I said, it feels like I'm wearing a scratchy sweater. Eh, my eyes are looking around, it looks like the danger is over, come on, take control, or I won't be able to control everything with my legs shaking and in a body I'm not used to."

Suddenly I feel like I can move.

Huh... looks like the shift went well.

I try to stand up, and I do, but the horror I saw earlier still keeps me on my hooves. A lump comes up in my throat and I want to lie down and cry.

Which I would have done if it weren't for the angry exclamations of my human personality distracting me from it.

The indignation and constant appeals of the other me to me make my consciousness sober up a bit and calm down, bringing me back to an understanding of what is happening and an awareness of what I have seen. However, I am not left with the feeling of hopelessness and chilling horror that I have experienced, which makes me long to fall down and lie curled up and hug my hind legs, to be in Motley's embrace, and to be comforted...

I feel so frightened that I can't cry. I'm in shock when I think of the nightmare I've been through. But human me keeps me going, thus preventing me from succumbing to the insidious fear.

After a while, I more or less calm down and leave the medical section, heading further down the corridors.

***

Thanks to the constantly heard voice of my other me, I begin to recover from what I have seen, to gain control over my own emotions, but I will never forget what I have experienced. The endless emptiness frightened me beyond belief. But just think of my pegasus, and my heart immediately becomes warm and cozy, and everything else fades into the background. I'm sure that pleasant feeling will become stronger and more tangible once I'm in her arms.

If the other me hadn't taken control of my body, I would have been completely immersed in a cold emptiness that is impossible to describe in words or to reproduce in my mind. It's more like not even a memory, but a strange sensation that has completely overshadowed all my senses and thoughts. I try not to think about it, because the mere memory of the experience worsens my state, makes me feel nauseous and inexplicably anxious.

We ultimately never did figure out what happened. Nevertheless, I continue on my way down the hallway, heading for the living quarters—maybe there I'll find something else that can give me answers. Along the way, I still come across the remains of a pony.

I feel the cold on my skin again. A chill runs through my body. I worry as I feel someone's gaze on me. Glancing back over my shoulder, I see the dark cloud with the shape of a pony again.

It's slowly following me, slowly closing the distance. My mouth dries up, and the same horror and cold that I felt in the medical section comes back to me.

"Run!" the other me screams in my head.

The voice of my human side sobering me up again, and I rush as fast as I can away from the incomprehensible and terrifying pony-like fog!

I run swiftly, yet the urge to turn my head is so strong that I can't resist it; I look back—the thing, at my own speed... no, even faster, it's still chasing me!

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-u-uck!

The adrenaline in my blood is spiking to the point where I'm about to fly off. But no matter how fast I run, no matter how many turns I take, it still catches up.

That's when I remember about the gun. I struggle to levitate the shotgun, which feels heavy, comparable to an anti-machine rifle. Maybe even heavier. And without stopping, I point it back, aim it at the silhouette and fire a couple times.

No effect.

"That's expected!"

The creature is still chasing me, no matter how fast I'm going. I panic even more, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead, whether from terror or from the continuous running through the narrow corridors. I'm a trapped mouse in a labyrinth.

Realizing that guns are not the answer, I holster my gun and keep running, hoping that this thing will get off my back and leave me alone.

I reach the cafeteria doors and open them. But just as I'm about to walk through them, they immediately close, literally in my face. Damn faulty automation—the door sensors must be acting the exact opposite way! A fraction of a second, and the door would have split me in two. Just as I stopped, the pony-like cloud almost stopped as well, approaching me slowly and menacingly. It seems to want to intimidate its prey, making you realize that no matter how fast you run, there's no way to break away from its pursuit.

"Yeah... Indeed. Interesting psychological pressure. I thought it was only in clichéd movies that someone would approach their victim with a threatening and slow look. But it turns out it makes a lot of sense."

Shut up! It's not time! It's easy for you to think without being at the mercy of panic and despair!

The door won't let me through. That's it, I'm at a dead end. There's no point in using magic—I'm wasting it very quickly, for some reason. And the dark fog with barely visible outlines of a pony keeps moving towards me. A feeling of panic and hopelessness spontaneously seizes my mind and makes me stand on my hind legs, my back pressed against the door and fully pressed into it.

The closer the creature gets, the more I feel the terrible cold and emptiness that comes from it. My breathing quickens, for I have no idea what to do. These aren't real monsters or opponents cornering me, but a cold and intangible horror!

"Put Defender under the door! It's indestructible anyway!"

Following the advice of the voice in my head, which finds it much easier to ignore the feelings I'm experiencing, I open the door again and place the weapon vertically under it, supporting it with magic to keep it from falling. I lay down, as it would be useless to jump—the door would slam shut before I hit it—and try to crawl through. As soon as I am under the door, it tries to crush me, as expected, with such force that it sags under the weapon, almost clawing me.

Before I can rejoice in my small victory, the door surges upward again and once again tries to nail me. Several times—until I'm out from under it. This time, the respite caused by my success gives me a quick moment to gather my strength. I deftly and confidently jump inside the cafeteria, snatching the Apostle from under the door, which slams shut almost completely with a loud metallic clang due to the deformation. For ten seconds I breathe heavily and pour sweat, standing in a fighting stance, pointing Defender towards the door and expecting the dark cloud to ignore such a trivial obstacle.

But the door doesn't open, and the cold withdraws, as if someone had been holding my heart and had just loosened its grip. I fall exhaustedly to the floor, gulping for air. My thoughts scurry chaotically through my mind like roaches, unable to concentrate on anything in particular.

Shit... What the... hell... is going on in this fucking stable?

Staring at the dirty tiled floor of the cafeteria, I sit motionless, breathing fast and wheezing. After a few minutes I get up and look around the well-lit hall. Nothing unfamiliar appears in it, except for a few pony remains. I look at my Pip-Boy and PipBuck: they give me the same level of interference, but at least I can use them, which is a relief.

Behind the table, I see the pony's body shrouded in metal armor. A Steel Ranger without a helmet. I can't quite tell from the withered and decaying skin if it's a stallion or a mare, but the relatively small size of the body suggests a mare. I can also identify her by her dog tag—Evening Star.

Star? Something familiar.

And then it hits me.

Damn... Is that our Lemon's mother? Well, now we know what happened. But it's a little early to make a judgment call. I need to examine her inventory.

Knowing that it's wrong and shameful to just go through the bodies of my friend's parents like that, I dare to look through the compartments of Evening's armor. There's ammunition for her battle saddle with energy-magic rifles, a picture of a young and slim Lemon that I can't help but marvel at, some more Steel Ranger technology, and an audio recording. It features the voice of an extremely exhausted mare, interrupted by a cough that makes her repeat broken words at times, and with hoarse breathing as if she's slowly suffocating. There is also some interference on the audio due to a slightly malfunctioning PipBuck, but the pony's voice is sufficiently distinct.

"This is a paladin of the Steel Rangers, Evening... Star. Our... assignment was to investigate... this Stable. We were never... able to fin... find out what was going on here. We... heard voices. Our equipment and... power armor matrixes were malfunctioning. Everyone... went crazy and started screaming furiously. They and I saw... horrible intangible creatures, and in horror... almost all of us scattered as they caused strange frightening sensations. Pa... paladin Gold Star, my husband, and I tri... tried to fight back... Holy crap, that's hard to say. My husband... died practically on the spot, before I realized it, I was consumed by a... it's hard to put in... into words. I feel like I'm sinking into... an icy void. Someone... in a panic threw a pla... plasma grenade, the explosion caught this something and it retreated, giving... me a chance to get away. But it was... useless, as my strength was leaving me for s... some reason, as if my soul wanted to leave my... body. That thing managed to do something to me. Probably... a heart attack or something with my heart. I'm... not gonna survive. The me... meds aren't working. If anyone... finds this tape, please tell our daughter... Lemon that her father and I love her... and will watch and protect her from above. May she not grieve for us and... bring light and warmth to those around her with her joyful smile. I would love... to see her become a star paladin one day... That sounds funny. Star Paladin Star."

End of the audio. Lemon's mother's last words, though barely audible due to her condition, are spoken with a spark of hope and joy mixed with the sadness and longing that she will not see it.

Listening to the audio, I forget for a moment that I'm in a dangerous situation, because the hope... no, a mother's certainty that her daughter will someday earn the title of star paladin, knocks me out of it. My eyes wet at Lemon's mother's last words, for her daughter has become an honored star paladin after all, and she doesn't stop smiling. It is true that she has been having health problems lately, resulting in her being judged for the position she holds.

I stand in thought for a while about Lemon and her parents, pondering how she was eager to go to this place and find out what happened to them. If she found out where I was headed, she will hate me.

I'm coming back to reality, figuratively speaking, as it's unclear if this is all happening for real, or if it's some sort of deadly substance slowly destroying the body.

Finding nothing else of interest in the cafeteria, I decide to leave the room through another exit. Cautiously peering in beforehand, I check to see if the doors are trying to break me in half. As it turns out, they aren't. This door, as well as several others, appear to have faulty automation sensors.

I step a little more confidently along the corridor to the living quarters.

***

Looking into yet another room, I find nothing much: just dust and rust. And dead ponies. Though these once wore Stable jumpsuits with the numbers '66' on them. Some of the ponies had died lying on the floor, curled up with their hind legs pressed together. I wanted to do the same thing a while ago—just lie down and curl up in a ball, as if to hide and protect myself from the cruel world. It's scary to imagine what they were going through. According to my other me, this happened to me for no longer than a second, but it felt like an instant and an eternity at the same time, as if I were about to fall asleep. And he also said that he didn't experience any coldness or black emptiness, even though he can feel and see the same things I can. It's strange.

The walls of yet another room are painted with the same gruesome blood-written warning inscriptions I've seen in other rooms before. They all say the same thing: "THEY WANT TO TAKE YOUR SOUL!", "DEATH WALKS NEAR YOU!", and "DEMONS WANT BLOOD!". Lots of sayings on the walls, but all with the same creepy meaning. Thinking about it gives me goosebumps for the umpteenth time, considering what I experienced just recently. A bleak, boundless emptiness.

Even earlier I had seen the remains of half a foal lying by the closed door to one of the rooms. The poor little pony had been flattened in half by the door as it tried to enter the room. I am briefly enraged, for this was due to the oversight of the parents and maintenance staff. They didn't fix the damn door... It's also frightening that the foal died, probably in a time period when many ponies have already lost their minds. So it's no wonder they didn't see it coming.

In another room, I wonder why Lemon's mother and the others were gutted so quickly. Judging from the remains, there are no outsiders here. None of them made it to the living quarters. The whispering voices that constantly haunt me have become noticeably quieter, almost inaudible. A couple of times, however, in some of the rooms (near one of which I'd just discovered the remains of a foal), I'd almost gotten smashed by the doors, as if on purpose. How far I've gotten is both gratifying and terrifying. Why did I manage to get so deep into the Stable, unlike the other outsiders?

"Oh, newcomers!" I suddenly hear a small mare's thin voice from behind me, causing me to nearly shit myself.

It is almost sepulchral silence, except for the barely audible distant hum of the bunker's operational systems, which have been running smoothly for more than a century, and then there's this surprise.

"Fuck!" I blurt out in fear, turning around expecting a creepy figure of a small pony with no face or something horrible.

But no such thing happens. The only thing I see near the entrance to the room is a silhouette that looks like a young filly, judging by its size. The silhouette seems transparent, and I can barely see the outline of a muzzle, just a body with a tail and a head with a mane. It seems to be just a cluster of soft yellow living cloud or mist.

I remember the dark silhouette in the medical section wanting to pull me into the cold void.

That frightening and unpleasant memory makes me fearful again, my muscles tense. My knees are trembling. Wary and anticipating an unfavorable turn of events, I pull out Defender with telekinesis and with difficulty aim it at the translucent silhouette—magic still hasn't given me a chance since I crossed the doorstep of the Stable.

"Who are you?" I ask in a shaky voice, staring at the silhouette in fear.

The rush of memories of the emptiness makes me want to just... run away, hide in a corner and cry. I feel so shitty here after what I've seen. I don't know what to expect from this place. If you ask me, this Stable could drive any pony crazy with its illusions. Or is this really happening?

"Sweetie Smiles, what's your name?" the filly asks in a friendly manner.

Her voice is light and deep—it feels like it's made up of several voices saying the same thing, but so coherently that the very fact that the voices are overlapping is not noticeable at all.

"Daniel," I answer uncertainly.

Her non-hostile and calm tone, tinged with curiosity, makes me relax my tense muscles slightly.

"Nice to meet you, strangers. It's been a while since I've talked to the surface comers. They just don't make it here before the adults start playing games with them," she says wistfully.

"Playing games?" I ask in amazement.

I don't immediately notice that she's addressed me in the plural as I focus on something else.

"What games?!"

"Yeah, adults want to play with others all the time. In dressing up. The ones won't let them, though. The newbies, those silly adults, are always screaming and yelling in terror, talking about scary monsters and demons. But apart from the adult ponies and griffons, there's no one here," the pony is genuinely interested in the matter.

I don't understand anything. What the fuck is this?

"I've never been able to have a decent conversation with the newbies. A couple times I did, but they ran away in terror from me. So I got frustrated and decided to only play with the other foals."

"And where are the others?"

I shudder and look around apprehensively, but I don't spot anyone.

"Oh, they're right here. They just don't want to talk to the newcomers, afraid the adults will punish them."

"Why aren't you afraid?"

"I'm the bravest and boldest, and I'm not afraid of my parents' threats!" she says proudly, and then adds timidly, drawing circles on the floor with her hoof. "Well, my mom is the most in charge. The Overmare... And no one dares touch me with a hoof but her. And the other foals don't want to play with me. I've tried so many times, but they don't want to play. They say I might accidentally blab to my mom and they might get punished. But I've always kept quiet," Sweetie Smiles says with a sniffle .

"You've had a rough time of it," I smile tensely.

Talking to a ghost is crazy enough, but that's not the point: I'm afraid I'm going to upset her with something, and she'll kick me so hard I won't be able to pick my bones.

"How do adults punish you?"

"We don't get punished."

"But you just said..." I start with incomprehension, but Sweetie interrupts me.

"They don't really do that, it's just that there are some fools who put too much on their minds, and others believe them... naive," the pony snorts.

I don't know if I should tell her that newcomers were dying because of adult games? I feel like that could lead to a sad result. I'd rather keep quiet, or speak in her... style.

"And how long do the adults play with the newbies?"

"Not much. The newbies join the rest of the adults pretty quickly. It's just that the dummies keep losing what the adults are interested in when they join in."

"Joining in? How?"

"It's hard to explain. They can only do it when by amazing coincidence they lose what adults need. What a lucky coincidence, don't you think?"

"Yeah... Luck is a strange thing... What's that thing they're losing? You mentioned dressing up."

"Oh, that... Personally, I think adults are a bit nuts due to their strong desire to play these games, but there's nothing else to do and they're bored. The newbies have... well, what you have now. It's hard to say. A jumpsuit? Clothes?" the spirit pony asks rhetorically. "Well, something we're comfortable in. Here you adults don't want to play these games, I'm sure, because you have these clothes. The others are jealous of you and want to try on your clothes."

"Is she really talking about the flesh? About the body? Clothes... What everyone is comfortable in... A living body."

I remember that dark silhouette: as it tried to pull me into the void, I heard voices whispering in unison: "MINE!" Hmm. Dragging me into the void... It was as if my soul was really being pulled out by force.

Sweetie talks about the adults' preoccupation with this game. They've been dead a long time. These are their souls, and they want the peace they see in comfort—in a living body.

"Holy shit!"

Apparently, they don't know that if the soul leaves the body, that's it—no soul can just repopulate again. If that's even possible in principle. Sweetie said that newbies join the others when they lose their... body. Oh, Celestia. How many souls are in this Stable right now? And more importantly, why in this particular bunker?

"Why don't you want to... try on my 'clothes'?" I hesitantly ask.

I shouldn't have asked that question, oh I shouldn't have... But my curiosity wants to be satisfied—instead of just trying to walk away or ask any other safe question.

"Nah..." she waves her hoof dismissively, turning her head for a moment. "I don't see the interest in that, I'm fine as I am. So are the other foals, though, who don't really want to talk to me."

"Wait, why aren't the foals interested?"

I feel better knowing that she doesn't need my body, which she wouldn't have gotten anyway.

"I dunno. Even though it's cozy in these clothes, but to want it so badly... It seems like some kind of obsession to me," she whispers to me, as if she doesn't want the adults to hear her, and twirls a hoof at her temple.

Yeah, right... It seems to me that adults just don't care what kids say. That's not the point. Still, why do the foals ignore it?

"And absolutely all the foals don't want to play dress-up with the new kids?"

"No. There are those who are interested," Sweetie's soul replies, after a bit of thought.

Some of the foals "play" with the adults, others don't. What's the catch...

"And how do you differ? I mean those foals who want to play with the newbies as opposed to others, like you?"

"They're older, so they understand this adult passion for this game. I'm still considered little," the soft yellow pony-shaped cloud grieves.

And then a strange thought occurs to me: I remember the entry in the doctor's terminal, where it was mentioned that 'nightmare fever' had affected everyone except the foals who had not yet received their cutie marks.

"Those foals playing with the adults have already gotten their cutie marks?"

"Yes... And I haven't yet," she looks back, then sighs doomfully. "Though I should have by now," she turns her head back to me, "but it's not showing up for some reason. It's been a long time! Well, I guess so."

"So, the souls who received a cutie mark while alive, out of boredom and the insufferable nature of an existence without a body, start 'playing' with those who have a body, in some horrible way forcing them to leave the body. But by doing so, the ghosts simply drive them mad, and they die of fright and terror. They really do pull the souls out of the bodies."

Now I can see why the remains of the ponies in the atrium, showed no signs of physical damage. However. why haven't I been drained yet? Why was I able to make it this far?

"Why are the adults taking longer to play with me?"

"Well... you look different."

"What do you mean by that?" I wonder.

"I don't know how to say this... but I feel like you're not a pony, even though you look like us. And I sense your duality. You know," she sits up and gestures with her front hooves, "like if a twig was split lengthwise, but not all the way through. That's why it feels to me like there are two of you. That's why the adults are hesitant or don't know how to approach you, don't know how to play with you," Sweetie hesitates. "So you're going to let me talk to... your friend?"

I'm shocked. And that's putting it mildly.

"That's for sure. What the hell is going on? And how does she 'see' me?"

On the other hand, this explains it all: apparently our souls are a tough nut to crack due to our split and unconventional origins. It takes them a while to get close to us. I wonder... Maybe other beings are affected in a different way by powerful hallucinogenic agents?

"Sweetie told you we're not ponies. Doesn't that confirm that we don't belong here after all, and should go back to our own world?"

Not now. We need to get out of here first.

Sweetie Smiles giggles.

"You guys are so funny! It's like you've gone off on your own and haven't been paying attention to me."

"Yeah... Right."

I sometimes forget that she doesn't even know she's dead, and that I should talk to her like a normal living pony.

"I have a question: don't you think there's something wrong here?"

"What do you mean?" the spirit of the deceased wonders.

"Do you feel like going somewhere else? Someplace away from here?"

"Well... When you asked that—I thought about it. Sort of... Some strange feeling of wrongness. But it's my home. I shouldn't leave it, and yet there's this feeling that I need to go somewhere else."

Interesting. So all the ghosts here are being held here by an unexplainable force. Wait. Am I succumbing to a hallucination? In the sense that I've started to play along and think I'm really seeing spirits.

"Who knows. But I'm here with you, and I haven't detected any weirdness in our interactions. Maybe it is real, though it's possible that it could all be a product of my imagination."

So could mine. I believe these hallucinogens cause the victim to lose their sense of reality. They are far more powerful than the Twilight Demon, under the influence of which victims see their inner fears; things are a bit different here. They don't just drive the victim insane, they gradually cause health damage like poison. Or the victims simply die of fright. But who would even think of setting up something like this?

"Sweetie, you say your mom is the Overmare. Can you please take me to her office, but without the adults touching me?"

Yeah... That sounded pretty crazy. But I need to find out if the Overmare is involved in the weirdness here.

"Well, I don't know. Mom's among all these countless adults right now, she's hard to find and... she's been ignoring me ever since she started playing these games."

"It's not your mom I need, it's a safe passage to her office. Maybe I can help you make peace with her."

I don't want to give her false hope, but, uh... with her help, I have a chance to get to the office without confronting the ghosts, where I can find the information I need about this Stable.

"Really?" she asks hopefully.

I feel like a heartless asshole. I hate giving dubious hope to others when I don't fully understand the situation.

"Ye-e-eah..." I say, shamefully averting my gaze.

Fucking embarrassed.

"Yay! I'm going to play with mommy again!" she exclaims happily, clattering her hooves. I can't hear her hoofbeats at all. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing? An illusion would make me hear that sound.

***

"No one's here?" I ask interestedly, cautiously peering out into yet another empty hallway. "Although... why am I asking you? They're everywhere," I add with a smile.

"Shh!" the ghost hisses at me. "We have to keep quiet or they'll hear us!"

I smile. This would look funny if it weren't for the fact that I'm trapped here. Or that's what the illusion 'tells' me, and in fact in reality I'm absent-mindedly wandering through rusted corridors strewn with the remains of ponies and griffons. And I will walk until I die of water exhaustion or fatigue, which is unlikely, since ghosts or hallucinations will bring me to my death sooner.

We walk a few steps, and a dark pony-like figure appears at the other end of the corridor.

Oh shit!

"Sweetie, we have a problem," I say with gradually growing panic.

"What kind?" she wonders, turning back to me.

Can't she see that black disaster up ahead?!

"Yes, up ahead!" I shout out impatiently, pointing with my hoof at the dark silhouette whose 'gaze' is pointed in my direction. My heart beats faster with anxiety, and an unpleasant chill runs down my back.

"I don't see anyone out there."

I curse quietly to myself.

"Can you please run to the end of this hallway by yourself?" I utter, trying to regain my composure.

"But it might attract the attention of the adults."

"It doesn't matter now."

I realize that the ghosts will notice me anyway. That chorus of voices... I feel like there are several souls in that silhouette. A small chorus of voices can also be felt from Sweetie. So she, too, could be composed of several souls or be an incarnation of them.

Sweetie complies with my request and dashes across the hallway. The clatter of her hooves on the floor is as silent as before.

As expected, she passes through the dark silhouette without even feeling it. What can't be said about the silhouette itself—it becomes a shapeless, dense fog and moves toward me. I'm startled and turn around to run back, but I'm frozen—there's a second cloud approaching me from there!

Shit, we're surrounded! What do we do?!

"Run towards one of them!"

What?! Are you crazy?!

"There's nothing else to do", the voice in my head says quickly. "Magic is practically ineffective here for some reason—maybe the hallucination's influence is affecting us, maybe the hallucination itself is compelling us. So we can at least try to run through the cloud. It's intangible, bullets have flown through it. So you have to run through it. But you might feel that cold emptiness again."

Damn... really. Let's try it anyway, we don't have another option.

I run towards that cloud that Sweetie ran through. She's calmly waiting for me at the other end of the hallway.

"It's okay!" she exclaims happily.

Yep, it sure is! Sweetie has a different take on adults... I mean the ghosts. And she's in no danger from them.

As I run, I remember what the little ghost foal said: as soon as the adults start playing with the newbies, they scream in fear and see demons. Everyone screams in fear. Fear. That's the trigger! It's funny, the other me told me something like that before entering the Stable—that everyone came here with fear of this place.

"We need to face the fear without a doubt. But that's difficult, given what you've experienced", the other me concludes my reflections.

I try to face the nightmare in front of me with determination and confidence. His tricks won't make me shiver and scream in terror. Those tricks won't get me a second time! That's it, scarecrow, you're about to see the power and strength of a man, the Courier Six!

"Courier Six in the 66th Stable. Three sixes. That's really funny. It's also the sixty-sixth day of being in this world."

My doubts, like those of my other me, are dissipating, leaving only the frenzied sense of thrills and excitement that sometimes come to us in times of dangerous adventure. The desire to do the impossible and the insane!

Captured by this excitement, I completely forget what I felt earlier, when this thing almost killed me. I run through the cloud without consequence, only feeling a faint, unpleasant chill for a moment. The cloud I ran through dissipates completely, and for some reason the second cloud disappears without a trace. I inwardly cheer.

Eat shit!

"Why did you run too?" Sweetie asks in a happy tone.

She seems to have completely forgotten to be careful and quiet.

"It's more fun this way," I say playfully, still reeling from the success. "Let's get to the Overmare's office."

***

The ghosts don't bother us anymore. Inside the Overmare's office everything is standard: dusty filing cabinets along the wall, a huge sleek desk with a destroyed terminal in the center, a dirty window overlooking the atrium, broken computer panels and consoles... The remains of a pony in the corner.

After examining the terminal, I realize that it is beyond repair. After looking around the room and not finding anything special, I start looking through the file cabinets. Maybe I'll find something about the Stable, but it might take too long. The ghosts will try to weaken me with fear again.

I shiver, remembering that moment in the medical section and the bleak and cold emptiness I experienced.

Don't be afraid of it... Easier said than done. I had seen many horrible monsters and ugly mutants in my life, but they were all physical and could be killed. That thought always gave me confidence. But what about something I can't touch or feel?

I shake my head, pushing those thoughts away. I can't give in to them, or I might lose my life out of fear. Both literally and figuratively.

"Mom won't let anyone go through her thi..." Sweetie begins cautioningly, but I gently interrupt her.

"To help her and you, I need to know what's going on here, sweetie," I reply thoughtfully, examining an old document. The contents of which, however, are useless to me.

"The ponies live here," the little ghost foal replies simply. "Once everyone was minding their own business, but now they play these games and ignore the foals," she adds sadly. "It's hard for me to find my mom amongst all these endless adults. Is she upset about something, upset with me?" she asks with a wistful and concerned voice.

"No. Loving mothers, even when they scold their child, still treat her with love and tender care because they are worried. Don't worry, you're a good pony. I just need to find out what made your mother and everyone else so eager to play these games," I say, turning the page of the document. Nothing. Well, that sucks.

"Mother often talked to a particular stallion. They often discussed the strange stone downstairs."

I pull my eyes away from the document and stare dumbly at the wall in thought, then turn to Sweetie.

"What stone?" I ask, looking closely at the pony's yellow translucent silhouette.

"Well..." she falters, crossing her legs. "I don't remember all those conversations anymore. Now I'm going to try to remember just one, and..."

I suddenly have the feeling of being sucked somewhere, even though I'm standing still. No, not a feeling of cold emptiness. I've experienced that more than once. It's so familiar and...

Right. Memory orbs.

<-=======ooOOoo=======->

By the feel of it, I am in the body of a small pony sitting on someone's lap. It's a mare sitting in a padded desk chair with all her importance. The Overmare's desk! To the side is a working terminal, and my eyes are now focused on the stallion in front of me. Obviously, I am in Sweetie's memory, where her mother's office looks clean and tidy, no signs of rust or dust.

How is it that I...

"Complicated thing in terms of research," the stallion says, interrupting my thoughts. He looks above me, at the one on whose lap Sweetie Smiles is. "I've told you that for the umpteenth time," he smiles sourly.

The unicorn has light blue fur and a dark blue mane. And that familiar voice... Eric! Eric fucking Frost! What is he doing here?

"I hate to realize what the Stable-Tec gave us instead of a normal power source," the voice above me replies.

During the conversation, Sweetie occasionally shifts her gaze back and forth between Eric and her mother, but most of the time she's playing with Celestia's small plush toy in her hooves.

"It's been so many years and all to no avail," her mother adds annoyed.

What in the world is that stone so special?

I think back to what Caroline said the first time we met: she mentioned that something special had been transported to the 66. The logical thing for me to think of was the Dome, and it turned out to be some kind of stone acting as a power source.

"It's good that it works, though it's an inconvenience. How are you feeling? Considering what's going on right now..."

"Quite normal," the unicorn replies.

Eric looks slightly aged since I last saw him, and not just outwardly, but emotionally as well: his voice is empty and joyless, as is his gaze. Obviously, he is not only saddened by the fruitless research on the 'stone'. How many years has he been in this Stable?

"I hope those who contracted 'nightmare fever' will be okay," he adds slightly worriedly. Something I don't like about his tone. "I didn't just stop by to talk to you about failures. I need you to hide something in your place in case things get worse. Your office is one of the safest rooms in this place."

"And what is it?" the mare asks interestedly.

The light blue stallion provides in his blue haze of levitation a small object of gray color and square shape, similar to a disk. It is just the right shape to insert into one of PipBuck's special sockets.

"Tracking chip," Eric replies briefly, clearly not wanting to say anything else about it.

"What's it for?"

"It has to do with my work on the surface," he says meaningfully and hums with a nostalgic smile.

"Still missing the outside world and eager to get outside?" the Overmare inquires, getting up from her chair and setting Sweetie down on it.

The mare with the soft yellow fur envelops the tracking chip with her ruby-colored magic and walks over to the file cabinets. Sweetie sees her mother off with a curious look. The mare in the blue jumpsuit finds herself just about behind Eric.

"You could say that," he smiles bitterly, not turning around and lowering his head.

"The world is already dead. Equestria is gone. What was, is gone..."

The Overmare uses telekinesis to push aside one file cabinet, behind which is a small safe in the wall. She opens it and puts a chip in there.

I wonder what that chip is tracking... From what Eric said, this item is related to his former job. Could it be that he was talking about the Dome? I wish I could get my hooves on that chip.

Why is he tearing himself apart? Had he not yet avenged his wife?

The memory cuts off.

<-=======ooOOoo=======->

I snap back to reality—if I can say that. When I look around, I don't see Sweetie—she's gone.

"Sweetie?" I say expectantly into the void, looking around once again. There's no response. I have a bad feeling about this.

It's the same Overmare's office. On the floor, at my hooves, is the document I examined recently. And I'm standing by the file cabinet behind which is the safe.

I can hear the whispers again. And this time the voices are not calm and indifferent as before, but now this chorus is angry, if not enraged. At least they're not yelling in anger, which is more or less a good thing, but I have to get out of here fast.

I push back the cabinet behind which turns out to be the safe from the memory I saw, pick the lock, open the safe door, and insert the chip into the spare PipBuck. How lucky I am that the chip hasn't gone anywhere after all this time.

When the chip is plugged in, the PipBuck's screen automatically switches to a map that is inoperable due to interference, with an error message flickering on it: "CONNECTION LOST." Well, when... or rather, if I leave this bunker, hopefully the connection will be restored.

I put the cabinet back in its rightful place and leave the office, for the angry whispering is already stressing me out and scaring me. As I rush through the corridors, I wonder about Sweetie Smiles' disappearance. As I recall, she had started to remember something. And somehow I was able to see it.

"I saw it too, just separate from you, couldn't reach you."

Right. That too. Basically, it was like we were looking through a memory orb. And it suddenly cut off. I can only assume that Sweetie showing me her past somehow angered the ghosts here. They probably don't like it when a soul is completely consumed by a memory.

I wish I'd brought some sort of memory orb with me. Ideally, the one I bought at Vanhoover's porn studio would have worked. The soul is completely detached and protected from the outside world, immersed in the memory. Only the body remains completely defenseless. Nevertheless, it is by influencing the consciousness—or the soul—that the ghosts are forced to leave the body, or to be precise, by means of fear. But how do you do that if the victim's mind is completely focused on the memory? That's why I thought of the memory orb.

To avoid the influence of ghosts, all Prince needed to do was to send a unicorn with a memory orb here, which would escape into the memory at the right moment. Prince was right: there would always be a trapdoor.

Too bad Sweetie's gone. She would have helped me more. The only thing left to do was to find a better way of overcoming doors than shoving an indestructible weapon under a door that could slam shut at any moment like a mousetrap. One question, why was the automation damaged? Is there some sort of connection to the ghosts here, and they can tap into some of the technology that can be used to kill the victim? Could this be a desperate attempt to rid the body of its soul? Or the victims prove to be immune to fear. Or they're too resilient and stubborn to be influenced.

Okay, that's it, no more illusions, ghosts don't exist. I'm sure a lot of what's going on here can be easily answered without all this superstitious nonsense.

***

This time I'm being chased by that familiar creepy-looking pony I met in the atrium, the mare with the black empty eyes, her mane and tail waving slowly and hypnotizingly in different directions. This time she doesn't just fly after me, but with her the whole corridor is enveloped in a dark... darkness, literally. The corridor seems to evaporate, leaving an eerie black void.

I do my best not to give in to the fear—I don't take it all seriously.

"Try to catch me!" I shout with laughter, switching to a fast gallop.

I'm really having fun! And the adrenaline in my blood gives me strength. I'm being chased by the darkness capable of gutting my soul in seconds, and I'm having fun.

"Well, that's our style. I mean, it's the best way to keep a clear mind without giving in to panic and fear. Fear kills the mind. We're all going to die someday. So why don't we try to have a little fun before we die? It's like falling from a height and trying to learn to fly. There's nothing else to do."

Turning a deadly chase into a game.

"Game... Sweetie sees all these 'chases' as a normal game that all adults who have lost their 'clothes' are obsessed with. I think I've already begun to succumb to hallucinations. I no longer know where is reality and where is a product of my imagination—everything is so confusing and curious. I think I'm going crazy. Or I already am."

"It's not impossible. You can't be completely sure of anything."

At full speed, I dash down the technical corridors, trying not to trip over the remains.

How strange it looks from the outside-the remains of long-dead ponies lying around, with the only living one running past them and laughing uncontrollably.

I run into the room that normally houses the bunker's reactor systems and the power source itself. Instead of the standard equipment, it's practically empty. Only a multitude of power cables and huge electrical conduits stretch from another glassed-in room. Behind the dense glass is a small cylindrical-shaped structure several feet high, like a pedestal, located in the center of the modest room, with a similar structure in the ceiling directly above it. Between them, a small glittering dark purple stone the size of half a hoof floats in the air. From these structures stretch the very same power cables.

This is the stone and the bunker's power source that Eric and the Overmare were talking about.

Also here, in the room I'm in, are several gleaming panels and sound-making equipment. After two centuries, everything works as intended—just a little rusty and dusty. But the fact of functionality...

I turn my head and take a closer look at the room, for the chase has stopped, and I can take my time. For now... I have a feeling the ghosts will soon resume their daring attacks on me. Without Sweetie, it was already getting kind of boring. In such a short time, I'd gotten used to her, to her strange deep voice. Maybe she was scared after what had happened and hid herself well. Apparently so.

As I look around, I notice a faint green glow - a working terminal. Great! Maybe some of the records are still there.

Sitting down at the terminal, I flip through the reports. There are only calculations and numbers, it's useless to go into the meaning of which now, but I'm sure that they refer to the energy calculations of this stone. It is good that the researcher kept something like a diary, where she summarized some of the information she received.

"Entry one.

Because of the sheer amount of calculations and research on energy distribution, I've decided to do a little generalized reporting for myself. So here we go.

The Stable 66 has been given a special energy source that has been adapted to power all the life support systems of the underground complex. According to the information received from Stable-Tec, this crystal, the name of which is not disclosed so as not to mislead the researchers, is one of the rarest gems that produces an unlimited amount of energy, but with the caveat that the number of devices it powers depends directly on its size. And another important fact is that it is indestructible. By what laws such marvelous magical energy sources appear is unknown to them. We are officially tasked to conduct research on this crystal, using its capabilities on a large scale. In this case, as the main source of electricity for the entire Stable 66.

The crystal itself is energetically powerful and magically amazing. But with an unimaginable side effect—it absorbs all the magic and energy in the bunker. Unicorns have a hard time here—telekinesis is difficult for them, the earth ponies get tired faster than they should, which reduces their efficiency by almost half. All systems of the bunker are low-maintenance due to the crystal and everything is automated. Only harvesting and cultivation of crops in the gardens requires direct intervention of the inhabitants. All the rest is provided by the crystal.

I would like to mention that while absorbing the magic of unicorns and physical strength of ordinary earth ponies, the crystal appropriates the magic and technologies that have their own power source. That's why all the PipBucks here have been remodeled (we only disconnected the power source) and are now remotely powered by this crystal (connected to it with a spell, as well as everything that requires energy and magic in this bunker).

The spell for connecting objects to the crystal is very simple: just first envelop the crystal with your magic, and then concentrate on the object to be connected.

I can assume that it, like a jealous stallion, is just stealing our energy. I feel like a living battery for that damn crystal.

Scientist of Stable 66, Night Glow."

Indestructible. Produces endless amounts of magic, the amount of which depends on the size... Something familiar. I can't remember. I'm having trouble remembering any details of the previous day because of what I experienced in the Stable. On the other hand, it explains the interference in my PipBuck, Pip-Boy and helmet. And the problems with my magic. All because of the crystal.

"Entry two.

It's been a few more weeks and the research shows the same result. We've got some guy named Eric Frost helping us with our research. Though he's not a scientist, and his background is rather murky and obscure (for example, he's not officially a resident of this Stable, which I don't like), but he knows a thing or two about magic. Perfecting teleportation and memory spells isn't something everyone can do, but he could. He was in this bunker when he was sent by his superiors for some kind of secret government inspection, after which the megaspells fell and the main doors were activated and sealed. And he was here at that point, fortunately or unfortunately—I don't know. I think there was something fishy about this inspection.

Studies have shown that our natural magic, brazenly stolen by the crystal, is returned in a much larger equivalent. In other words, this crystal works on the principle of a colossal magic amplifier. It is not clear only by what reaction it amplifies the energy taken by it, but I can say with certainty that these costs are paid back with a huge surplus. And then the question arises: what about the absence of magic? What will the crystal be powered by?

Scientist of Stable 66, Night Glow."

Eric Frost, it turns out, was a research volunteer. And... he wasn't officially listed as a resident of this Stable? What was his purpose in coming here? Night Glau was skeptical of this stowaway.

"Entry three.

It's been a year, nothing new. Still the same monotonous results. For the sake of experimentation, we tried to at least scratch the crystal, but as expected, nothing happened. It was extremely dangerous—we risked being left without a power source for the entire bunker. Besides, it was Eric's initiative, and he didn't hesitate to test its indestructibility. If the Overmare found out what we were doing with the crystal—the only source of power—then... I don't even want to think about it. I didn't stop him, because I was curious to check that fact myself. And something told me that Eric could fight back—his movements were precise and smooth, and his determined gaze spoke volumes. I shouldn't cross him.

I don't like how dismissive Eric is of the crystal. It's like he really wants to destroy it so it won't absorb his magic so he can use teleportation to get past the main doors. After all, because of the crystal's side effect, his teleportation is very much impaired: very short distances and inability to move out of tightly closed spaces. However, the doors are locked tightly, and only an authorized person from Stable-Tec can remove the lock from the outside. The main doors also open automatically if the power from the crystal stops supplying us with the energy we need. The crystal's magic is also applied to the door mechanism. Having learned about it, Eric immediately tried to break the connection between the main door and the crystal, but without success, because if the magic of the crystal is already attached to something, then this connection will be unbreakable, as well as the crystal itself. This was proved by his rash act, which, thank Celestia, did not bring disaster, but gave us extremely important information.

Scientist of Stable 66, Night Glow."

Eric had mentioned leaving, but why was he so eager to get out? By his rash actions, he only benefited the research in a way. That's interesting. But why was he so eager to leave the Stable? I remember him messing up in the Rainbow Mine by installing the Twilight Demon hallucinogen sprayer in the ventilation system.

Ooh.

It hit me.

Could it be that Eric had installed something related to hallucinogenic products here, too, and was trying to escape? Or was he trying to prepare an escape route beforehand. Holy crap. Why would you do that, Eric?

"Entry four.

It's been almost ten years since I recorded anything in this journal. We haven't been able to find out anything new about this crystal anymore. Eric often spent time with it, trying to find a loophole and escape from this bunker. No matter how many times I told him it was useless, he still wouldn't give up trying to escape. But that's nothing compared to what's happening now.

Everyone's starting to freak out. Almost everyone. I still have the strength to ignore all these hallucinations, both visual and audible. And then there's the nightmare dreams... Shit. Even though I can ignore them, they have a significant effect on how I feel. This whole phantasmagoria started after the first death in this Stable, White Sky, of natural causes. Poor Gray Fork and Rainy Fields were the first to show signs of nightmare fever. They were close friends of this lonely elderly pony. The stress had taken its toll on them. But the surprising thing is that later on, almost everyone except the foals without cutie marks were affected. Everyone else (including me) started seeing ghosts and monsters. But it was easier for me to deal with since I didn't believe in all that nonsense. However, I am scared and wary of the other residents. They have already started to freak out. Some of them show suicidal tendencies and some of them even show aggression towards others due to frequent stress and vividly experienced fear.

If something does happen to me. I'd like to say that I've done some bad and stupid things in my life, but I've always tried to compensate for them with good deeds. For some reason, I just wanted to go to my mom's house. God rest her soul. Anyway, I hope it all ends well.

Scientist of Stable 66, Night Glow."

After the first death in the Stable. Hmm. What a coincidence that it was the friends of the dead pony who were the first to be affected by hallucinations. Whatever, it's time to do something about this mysterious and unnamed crystal.

And it's suspiciously quiet. Not a whisper. No hum of operating equipment.

I'm about to use the terminal to open the door to the room with the crystal, but the letters in front of my eyes on the screen seem to float away. They do sprawl out to the sides, and the whole terminal melts like chocolate on a hot griddle. It abruptly turns into a dark cloud. Before I can blink an eye or feel anything, my surroundings completely disappear and I lose consciousness.

***

Oh... Fuck. Where am I?

My thoughts are still spinning chaotically in my head, and I can't quite figure out what the fuck is going on right now. I feel like I'm lying on the floor somewhere. And my head hurts a little for some reason. I involuntarily grab my head. Wait, why am I in control of my body... and why am I feeling a hand and not a hoof?

My eyes widen in amazement, and I stare abruptly at my limb, goggling.

Is that my... hand?

I look at the other limb—an arm. Unsurprisingly, the body is familiar and native. Or maybe I'm dreaming this whole thing? Did my other me miss the moment, and... Right, that cloud came out of nowhere. He didn't even realize it, let alone think about it.

I rise slowly and not very confidently on my own two feet and look around—the entrance to a Vault. Or a Stable? It's hard to tell, since the place looks pretty clean and tidy. What on earth is going on? And why can't I hear my other me? Are the illusions starting to affect us separately? Like back in the Rainbow Mine with the Twilight Demon. Although we couldn't remember that we had split personalities then. Damn it. I've completely lost my sense of the reality of what's happening!

I look around and also touch my body: I'm wearing that armored duster with the cape on my back that I once left New Vegas in. Glancing at the Pip-Boy, I see the same gear I used to wear on me: Pushy, a shock sword, a carbine pistol with laser sight and silencer, a sniper rifle with silencer, and a silver-colored magnum. At the same time, the device on his arm gives off the same interference as the other me got at the entrance of the 66.

This is all extremely strange. However, the only weirdness I feel in myself is a sense of weakness and malaise. And then I remember one detail in the entry from Night Glow's terminal, "...earth ponies get tired faster than they should." Looks like I'm still in this damn Stable with two '6'. I need to figure out what's going on. Are the hallucinations starting to affect us a lot more? But more importantly, what about the other me?

I'm picking up the carbine pistol.

How I missed it—it feels so realistic!

I glance around the room. The main door of the Stable is locked, and there's no console to open it. It really does look like a copy of the 66. Well, I'll have to go to the technical rooms. Maybe Dannikaze is lying there unconscious and needs to be awakened to get out of here... if we knew where from. Who knows what ghosts or hallucinations did to him. Hell, I don't know what the fuck is going on.

Checking the ammunition in the magazine of the carbine and in my pockets, I walk toward the lower level, where the room with the unfortunate crystal where Danny was taken by surprise is supposed to be.

No sooner do I turn down the first hallway than I see the pony. In dirty, scruffy, bloodstained armor. Raiders. I take cover behind a ledge in the wall and peek out cautiously to examine them closely. The ponies' gaze is blank and joyless, which is not at all characteristic of them. They wander aimlessly back and forth, practically stomping around in one place. They look like the living dead, like feral ghouls, but with their appearance intact.

They show up as neutral on the malfunctioning Pip-Boy. Nevertheless, I decide not to tempt fate and, having entered VATS, make almost three shots at each of them, the charge of my wrist computer device is not enough for more. The crystal, on the other hand, absorbs all the energy and magic around it. It doesn't have time to absorb all of Pip-Boy's energy, as he is already starting to regenerate it, so in the end I can only use half of the power of this so useful function.

All three pony raiders fall down and almost instantly dissolve into the air, as if they turned into dust in the blink of an eye, disappearing without a trace.

What the...

I had forgotten about the existence of another raider who rushes to attack me with a knife in her teeth. I realize in time and deftly draw my shock sword, but she's already too close for me to be able to make an attack. I dodge her jump. When she slows down as she runs past me, I turn around and plant the sword in the weak spot of her neck. The pony doesn't make a sound, even as the sword enters her neck, piercing through. However, she evaporates almost immediately, as do the three of them.

Scratching the back of my head with confusion, I move on.

Along the way, besides the raiders, I also come across ponies in blue jumpsuits with the numbers '66' on them. They all have a look that says they're not alive—it's like their eyes are just open, but they can't see or even breathe. The first time I meet them, I try to strike up a conversation, but as soon as I make eye contact with them, they immediately become red dots on the Pip-Boy's compass and run to attack me, as if driven only by instinct rather than reason. I shoot them with my revolver as they rush toward me. They are inexperienced fighters, and unarmed; I have no difficulty in dealing with them. I have little difficulty with those who have firearms.

Everyone I meet seems to be a regular dead zombie, though with no signs of decay or physical damage. I try to stay on my path and avoid going into the various side rooms, halls, and rooms. This is not only to save time, but also for my own safety—in some of the rooms, I can see ponies in power armor with energy-magic weapons in combat saddles through the glass. So I decide to sneak past them, so as not to waste time and energy, which are scarce as it is.

No sooner do I turn the corner than a black-clad griffon jumps out and attacks me, knocking me to the concrete floor. On her armor is the familiar yellow symbol of a skull and crown.

A King.

She rests one paw on my chest, and with the other, claws extended, she swings around to apparently slash my face or scratch my eyes out. I push her off with my feet, and she falls on her back. I pull out my revolver and shoot her at point-blank range. She evaporates almost immediately.

Ferris was right. Griffons are obsessed with dominance.

I come across a couple more ponies in jumpsuits, but they're no problem.

I'm at the door to the room where we passed out. But there is one obstacle—that door is now locked. Right above it are two red lights, and on either side of the door are recesses in the shape of a pressed-in human palm and hoof framed on the wall.

After a little thought, I tentatively put my hand to the palm-shaped recess. One of the two red lights turns green, but the other still glows red.

I know immediately what to do. This is no ordinary hallucination. It is already operating somewhere deep in our conscious or subconscious mind, since here I am in the form of a human being with my usual equipment. Namely the one we wore before the transformation. For me, it is the human body that is familiar. For the other me, it's the pony body.

Where the hell is he? He, like me, logically should have come to this place. Why would he?

Distant shots of thundering guns rang out.

The Apostle! I'd recognize the sound of his gunfire anywhere.

I run toward that muffled noise. After a few turns and battles with the local natives, I determine where the shots are coming from—from the direction of the Stable Gardens. When I get there, I see a pony in dark gray armor striking enemies in blue jumpsuits with accurate but slightly jerky blows left and right. The enemies dissolve into thin air. It looks strange against the peaceful backdrop of fresh green grass and apple trees with bright red, juicy looking fruit.

"Not bad. But you're a far cry from Motley's level."

"You know," the beige unicorn with the black mane turns slowly toward me, breathing tiredly, "it's one thing to talk to your own brain, but it's another to actually talk to yourself."

"You're not surprised to see me?" I inquire, walking up to him.

"That door has two activators: one for a hoof and one for a... human palm. And I didn't hear your voice at all, so it wasn't hard to guess," his lips stretch into a smile.

"Which is exactly what I should have expected of myself. Am I imagining things?" I ask skeptically, squinting at the beige pony. He raises a hoof.

"Let's check it out," he suggests. "And at least greet each other at the same time."

I smile and with my hand clenched into a fist, tap Dannikaze's hoof.

Angry yells are heard from everywhere, which subside almost immediately.

"This isn't good," we say in unison in fright and bewilderment, and then look at each other.

Without another word, we rush towards that door as we hear a mob of long-dead ponies chasing us. The realization of this adds to our strength to run.

As we turn into the hallway where that door should be, we see something that shocks us. We are stunned, and our hearts beat even harder—with fear and terror. We gulp in air from exhaustion and stare at a light-blue unicorn with a dark-blue mane running at us with wide eyes.

Something, but meeting him I... we didn't expect.

Eric Frost!

He's not headed our way with friendly intentions. It didn't take me long to point my gun at him. Daniel's out of ammo, so he draws his shock sword. The unicorn instantly disappears in a flash of light and is right behind us.

Teleportation! He's even using teleportation instinctively?! Fucking hell...

Before I can turn around, he hits me in the kidney. The force of his blow is unbelievable, and even with my armor on, I can feel the pain. I struggle to keep my balance, but staggered back to my feet, trying to point the carbine at him again.

After Eric gives me a solid shot, he strikes Daniel's back leg again, nearly breaking it. He cries out in pain and nearly falls over. Eric stops me from pointing the gun, knocking it out with a quick, precise movement of his hind leg. He leans forward, using his front legs for support, and tries to kick me. I bounce back just in time, pulling out Pushy and putting it on my arm.

He's so fast!

The light-blue unicorn tries to kick Daniel in the face, but he manages to block it in time by crossing his front two legs and pushing off the attacker's back leg. He decides to attack me again when I just put on my 'special' fighting glove. Eric rushes towards me, and I swing for the attack. The light blue pony ducks and dashes forward, knocking me to the ground. I fly over the stallion and plummet to the floor, nearly hitting my face.

He's tricky! Even Motley can't fight that fast and agile, but she moves with much more fluidity and grace.

I decide not to get up, as Dannikaze is already running with his sword in his magic grip. He deftly leaps over me and prepares to attack with his hoof in a leap, using it as a distraction. Without releasing the sword from levitation to make a second, real attack.

I look back: Eric bounces backward with deft instinctive movements, smoothly dodging Daniel's sword and hoof attacks. It's obvious that the Controllers' special agent, a Cleaner, has no trouble staying out of the way of my second self.

I'm horrified for a brief moment: if it weren't for that crystal, we wouldn't stand a chance against Eric, and he could easily use powerful spells to attack or defend. He uses teleportation to get out of range. His reactions are honed to the point where he instinctively uses teleportation if he sees danger to himself. We need to outsmart him. or wear him down.

While I'm pondering, Daniel unleashes attack after attack that gets slower and slower, and Eric dodges them almost effortlessly. What a reaction and precision of movement Eric has.... I envy him, damn it!

I stand up and draw my magnum, aiming it at the enemy. The targeting system activates, and time slows down dramatically for a relatively short period of time. And just as I'm about to pull the trigger, Eric's horn flickers with blue light. The moment the shot is fired, the light blue unicorn disappears in a flash of light.

Lucky bastard!

Eric emerges behind me, but I'm ready for it. With VATS still activated, I turn around for defense.

Pip-Boy's charge finally runs out, and the flow of time is restored. The unicorn with the dark blue mane doesn't just rush at me, but rolls, and in the roll he manages to knock the barrel out of my hands, and tries to kick me. I block his attack, grab his hind legs tightly and immediately fall on my back, pulling Eric sharply towards me, lifting him into the air and throwing him over me.

No sooner has Eric's body flown over me and I've let go of his legs than Daniel is already running toward us behind me. Right above me, the beige pony stabs his sword through the back of the still in the air Eric, and the point shows from his stomach. Teamwork. We understand each other almost perfectly, even separately.

A moment, and Eric's body disappears.

If Eric fought with his mind and not just his instincts, he'd overpower us, even two of us in different bodies, in the blink of an eye.

I can barely get to my feet. I want to lie there without getting up.

I'm so tired. Fucking crystal! Why does everything have to be so hard?

"Uh, that was..." Daniel begins tiredly, breathing rapidly, but cuts himself off as we hear the stomping of hooves from both ends of the hallway.

By now, all the survivors we barely managed to get away from are catching up to us. They're about to be here, and then we'll be fucked! We shouldn't have 'greeted' then, and that crowd wouldn't have chased us. Apparently, everyone didn't like the way I 'physically' united with my other me.

There was no time to regret what we had done—what's done is done. Gathering the rest of our strength, we tear toward the door, each of us approaching it from our side and applying our forelimbs to the appropriate... activators. The bulbs that had been emitting red light now glow green, and the door swings open, inviting us in. And behind them is... emptiness. A black, terrifying abyss.

That's the 'exit'? You gotta be kidding me.

We stand there stunned, and we're being fired upon by the guys who were chasing us so vigorously. There is no way we can defeat such an enraged crowd, so the only thing... in order not to be killed by the hooves and paws of the dead, thus embarrassing ourselves so much, we simultaneously jump into the endless abyss, starting our fall into the darkness.

***

I slowly open my eyes and feel my cheek on the keyboard of the terminal. I can still hear the voices of the dead in my ears, and my head feels leaden, like a hangover.

Oh, so I passed out? I can't believe it, really: the reanimated residents and victims of the Stable, my other me in a human body, and then a distant greeting from the past: a meeting with Eric Frost. Crazy.

"What a powerful stuff. Well, at least I was in a human body for a while. I feel like I'm back home."

I struggle to lift my head, and my eyes focus on the terminal's flickering green screen. Diaries... reports... Oh, here comes the command to open the door to the room with the crystal. When the appropriate command was activated, the wall near the armored window came into motion and moved aside.

The heaviness in my head begins to fade.

I get up and walk to the passage to the next room. I hesitate at the threshold, feeling an unpleasant sensation that makes me squirm, but I enter a small square room with two cylindrical-shaped structures at the bottom and top. And between them a dark purple crystal floats carelessly in the air. From both special constructions a lot of power cables stretch into the neighboring room. There's nothing else here.

Looking at it, I try to remember everything I've learned in this place and come to a conclusion.

I don't know exactly what's going on here, but I can say that this mysterious crystal is to blame for everything that happened in this Stable. There is a possibility that it was pre-programmed by either Stable-Tec or Eric to create an illusion spell that automatically takes effect for some reason after the first natural death. Night Glow's diary indicates that after White Sky's death, various strange things started happening to the residents in the bunker.

Or maybe this crystal does indeed, besides stealing energy, prevent souls who died within the walls of the Stable from escaping to the afterlife. A terrible price to pay for its use.

"It turns out we have a choice between our imagination and actual ghosts. But the latter is less believable, though neither can be ruled out. You can't be completely sure of anything as we know it."

You're right about that. But this crystal has to be dealt with as quickly as possible, or we'll get another trip, or the ghosts will affect not only all our senses, but our subconscious as well.

So how do we destroy the indestructible?

Strange wording, of course, but it captures exactly what we are about to do. This crystal cannot be destroyed or even scratched. How then?

Think, Daniel, think!

I'm trying to go over all the information I gleaned from Night Glau's journal. Eric has been trying to damage the crystal, to disable it, but to no avail. Damn! My mind is so tight after what I've been through, I'm starting to get discouraged.

"Ferris..."

What? What's he got to do with this?

"I just remembered a conversation you had with him," my other me explains. You were taking apart your Apostles back then, and the only unique thing you found in them were tiny crystals of the same dark purple color. They were the power source for the weapon indestructibility spell and the ammunition enchantment. Ferris said that such a tiny size couldn't hold that much magic or any energy to create such powerful spells."

Exactly! The entire Stable is powered by a small, barely the size of a hoof, indestructible crystal. Its power depends on its size. Night Glow mentioned that it acts as a colossal magical amplifier: it absorbs external energy and amplifies it many times over. But these kinds of amplifiers can't provide such a difference in absorbed and released magic. So where does it gather all its energy from?

It doesn't matter. Now we need to find the weakness of this crystal—there is a flaw, a flaw everywhere. There are no perfect things in this understanding.

What does it give us to know that the Apostles use such magical amplifiers? Crystals simply take magic from the outside, most likely. The amount of magic concentrated depends on the size. It's impossible to physically damage the crystals. But what if we inflict magical damage?

"And how do we do that? I'm sure Eric has tried to affect the crystal with magic on more than one occasion. Don't forget, not only was he better at magic than us, but he stood out among the other unicorns."

I pull out my Apostle, remembering that it contains the same crystal, only much smaller, and stare at it, thinking.

"...if the magic of the crystal is already attached to something, then this connection will be unbreakable, as well as the crystal itself..." I am reminded of the words from Night Glow's diary, "...it absorbs all the magic and energy in the bunker. The crystal also appropriates magic from technologies that have their own power source. Like a jealous stallion, is just stealing our energy..."

An unbreakable bond... Absorbing all energy, including that of other sources...

My gaze is still focused on Apostle. This weapon has its own magical source that it is bound to—but not a single deviation or disturbance was seen during the shotgun's firing.

And then I had a rather interesting and quite nefarious question: is it possible for any item to create a connection to two such crystals at the same time?

The crystal is 'jealous', stealing energy from other sources. And what if another crystal of the same kind turns out to be another source for the object? Would that cause any particular dissonance between the two? Or a glitch?

"It's not unreasonable. However, it's not like they interfered with each other when one was in the other's area of influence."

Remembering from Night Glow's notes on how to create this most unbreakable magical bond, I place the shotgun on the floor, then concentrate on the large crystal, feeling all the unbridled power it radiates, and envelope the weapon with my magic again.

Nothing happens.

After a few seconds, I release both the crystal and the shotgun from my concentration. The crystal between the platforms shimmers as if heated. Glancing at the shotgun, I notice that it has the same dark purple glow coming from inside.

Their brightness gradually becomes more and more powerful. The whole room seems to be completely dark purple. The concentration of this light becomes sharper and sharper, so much so that I involuntarily squint. Even through my eyelids I can see this blinding light: I have to turn away. And then it suddenly disappears. Without a sound. The sharp dark purple light just disappears, as if it never existed.

I cautiously open my eyes and look around: the room is back to its former color, the strange whispering is gone, the hum of the bunker's equipment systems is all but gone. Only my breathing is audible. And the crystal hovering between the two cylindrical structures is gone. I lift the shotgun by levitation, feeling that my magic is fine now, and examine it. The weight remains the same. I remove a couple parts and look at the spot where the tiny crystal should have been installed. As expected, it's not there. I take it this gun now doesn't have such tremendous penetrating power and shot accuracy.

In the end, I don't see anything new. But one thing is clear.

The crystals are just gone.

Going upstairs, I still don't believe that the illusions have ceased, and I think that it is all in my imagination, and I have finally come to terms with it and my soul has finally calmed down and left the body. But I can still hear the other me in my head. I discuss this topic with him constantly on the way, traversing corridors and murderous doors that no longer try to break me in two. I have to open these doors manually, helping myself with magic.

Gradually, I feel my breathing getting harder and harder. It's stifling. The ventilation has also stopped working, and fresh air is no longer circulating through the bunker. The remains of dead ponies and griffins are still lying on the floor here and there. There's a lot of loot to be had here, but I won't do it.

Still... I hope the souls found peace when the crystal stopped affecting them and Sweetie Smiles was finally reunited with her mother. Almost 200 years apart.

I keep wondering if it really happened or not.

After the first death, the residents of the Stable begin to slowly lose their minds. It was slow at first, since only one pony died. The more deaths there were, the faster and more persistently the souls of the dead tried to take over the bodies of the living, murderous fear forcing the owners to abandon them. Or the illusion acted on the fears, for after the first meeting the ponies were greatly saddened by the death of a friend, which was natural. As time went on, the ponies began to succumb more and more to their nightmares, and this effect was amplified by suicides. More and more quickly they went mad and died. And the travelers had already come to this place with thoughts of the probable danger lurking here, which created fear, increasing the effect of the illusion.

"Funny... After all, the crystal absorbed magic, and returned it in multiplied amounts. It's the same with fears. The more you give in to fear, the stronger the illusions become, and they in turn make the victim even more terrified. It's like a snowball rolling down a snowy mountain, getting bigger and bigger."

Just like that, a simple experiment to study the source of magic turned into a terrifying nightmare. Stable-Tec, according to Night Glow's records, wanted to experiment with using this crystal on a larger scale to see if there were any unpleasant consequences or disastrous side effects. Either they or Eric had done something to the crystal beforehand, purposely conducting a cruel experiment on the ponies. Or it was just a mistake—a massive mistake that ruined more than a thousand lives.

In the end, whether it was illusions or ghosts, it was fear that was the leverage. We were only able to overcome all the obstacles because we had time to figure it out. And also because of our unconventional backgrounds and split personalities. But I'll remember for the rest of my life the chilling abyss of darkness and terror I experienced.

The Twilight Demon showed our inner fears of a certain something. In Stable 66, illusions created by crystal or ghosts used the fear the victims experienced in the present moment, the here and now. All one had to do was not give in to the fear. A memory orb could help with that, distracting the entire mind and senses from the world around them by immersing them in someone else's memories.
The only thing that doesn't fit is the moment when my other me and I were in different bodies. There, we weren't being influenced by fear. Maybe it's something like fighting long-dead victims in our minds, taking the form of our usual battles with weapons and so on? If even there we felt a side effect of the crystal, it means that everything happening there was based on our physical abilities. The ghosts or illusions were trying to break us in other ways. Separately.

Maybe I'll think about that later.

Also, strange doors trying to cut me in half. It could have been a glitch due to an activated illusion in the crystal—or they had some sort of connection to ghosts that were being possessed by technology that could physically harm. That's likely how the foals who didn't get cutie marks died. Or they died from the insane behavior of the other inhabitants.

However, one question remains unsolved: who was able to open the main doors of the Stable? Perhaps the first Vanhoover explorers hacked the door console.

Regardless, the crystals are destroyed, so it's over... I guess. Now my Apostle is effectively useless. I doubt its components are durable, the creators relied on the spell and the power of the crystal. I can see why the Stable's equipment ran smoothly—it was directly connected to the crystal, albeit remotely, so it didn't wear out.

I get to the surface, look around, and then look up at the gray cloudy sky.

A cold wind blows over me, teasing the fur on my face. I cover my eyes and inhale deeply of the relatively fresh, cool air, blissfully happy that I've survived the horrors of Stable 66.

I shout with an overwhelming sense of joy and unimaginable relief.

"I'm alive! I did it!" I exultantly burst out after shouting in triumph. To experience such a thing... you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. How lucky I am that I decided to take the Apostle with me! After all, I'm an extremely lucky son of a bitch!

"Yeeeeee-haaaaaw!" I add longingly, standing up on my hind legs and waving my front legs in a joyous outburst.

"What a horse..." the other me chuckles.

Screw you! Don't ruin the moment. And yes, I am a pony, not a horse!

Suddenly, I'm knocked off my feet like a thunderclap. With tears in her eyes, my chest is pounded by the hooves of a beige armored pegasus.

"Idiot! Asshole!" she desperately shouts out with pain in her voice, not stopping her fierce but not too strong blows at me.

It doesn't really hurt me. Motley's eyes are closed and hot tears are streaming down her cheeks, it's impossible to tell whether her face is expressing anger or joy.

"Bastard!"

The pegasus continues to pound me like a punching bag.

"How could you! Why did you... You... You..." she breathes convulsively.

Her front leg rests against my chest, and she swings the other to land a punch. She opens her eyes, filled with grief and pain, and hesitates as our gazes cross. I have no choice but to smile innocently.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to the fucking Stable 66?" The pegasus' anger evaporates, leaving only disappointment and hurt. "I... I was so worried about you!" she finally says, wrapping me in a hug and nuzzling her nose into my neck, which is immediately wet with hot tears. She continues to sob.

"Hush, hush," I hug the pegasus back, and stroke her head affectionately, soothingly.

I understand what she's experiencing. I'd also have conflicting emotions if she'd traveled alone to a dangerous place, especially to Stable 66. I would be overwhelmed with anger and especially pain if a pony important to me didn't say a word about going to certain death. But how did she know where I was headed?

"I'm sorry, angel."

Motley continues to sob, squeezing me tightly in her hooves as if afraid of losing me.

"I'm sorry. I'm very sorry," I smile, however the pony doesn't see it. "But it's over. I'm alive. And I'm by your side."

The pegasus is silent and sobs for a while longer.

"This is so hard for me. What a jerk you are. I'm so glad you're alive..." she finally whispers in a more or less calm tone, realizing that it's all over.

"And I'm glad to see you. But... how did you know?"

"You didn't turn off the beacon in your backup PipBuck," the pony replies, still snuggled into my neck.

It makes me want to do a facehoof and smash my head with it. What a dumbass!

"Berry and I, as soon as we found out where you'd gone, wanted to go after you right away, but that Caroline, damn her, wouldn't let us, blocking all the exits."

Oh... Caroline. Thank you so much!

"Berry even threatened to reprogram the damn AI! But fighting robots... we couldn't take on an opponent like that. She's really mad at you. A lot."

"I'm guessing. It's all over. It's okay... I'm with you," I add comfortingly.

The pegasus unclenches her embrace and we rise to our hooves. She's still looking into my eyes.

"Promise me you'll always tell me where you're going!" she says sternly and demandingly.

"I'll be damned if I don't," I smile.

The pony hugs me again and then kisses me fervently, as if she's been missing her stallion for ages and now she's finally met him. Her soft lips... Her strong embrace. I'd already forgotten the horror I'd experienced in that underground box. And yet... a pony like Motley doesn't deserve to suffer. I'll have to make it up to her.

I glance at the spare PipBuck—it displays exactly six markers on the map. Right. That tracking chip. It must have kicked in when I got rid of the powerful crystal. Six markers.

Those don't happen to be the six key cards for the Dome, do they? Holy shit! Huh... Yeah. Lucky me.

Three markers point exactly to the Steel Ranger main base. Three? But I only found two for them. So they found another key card and didn't tell me? Those assholes. I should have known. By the time I found the sixth key card, the Steel Rangers wouldn't need me. Or did Lemon come to Heavenly Harbor just to tell me that?

The other three markers point outside the Vanhoover region. A powerful tracking chip, since the signal even passes through the jamming barrier created by the Jammer Tower around the Vanhoover Wasteland. Either way, the key cards have to be found elsewhere. At least three of them, for the other three are in the possession of the Steel ones.

One marker points far from here, to the southeast, to some mountains, or rather a mountain. Good thing I have a flying machine, Venture, getting there shouldn't be too difficult. It feels like this keycard is located in the mountain. A Stable? Or just a bunker?

The other one leads to Canterlot. Great, and I was hoping to avoid a place like the Sierra Madre. Turns out I can't avoid it. Memories of breaking into the Sierra Madre casino with Dog/God, Dean and Christine under the guidance of a deranged Elijah came flooding back to me. It was one hell of a fucked up mess.

And the third marker points to the spot on the map where Motley says New Pegasus is. I'm gonna have to visit that wonderful, sky-high city of casinos, entertainment, and... The Enclave.

Not for nothing I went to the 66! Well, it won't take long to find those key cards. All that's left is to get to them.

Author's Note

The next two chapters will be among the largest, especially the twenty-sixth, which will have to be divided into two parts for ease of translation. You can follow updates, fan arts, memes and the insides of my work on Twitter (https://twitter.com/Dovaki0) or Discord server (https://discord.gg/2bNyPEpW8h). I will be happy to see you there

Also there's a small prequel to this story that describes the daily life of Vanhoover, and it can be read before or after reading the main story.