Author's Note

Sorry for the long absence. I have had another power outage due to the infrastructure damaged by bombing. If there is not enough electricity in the summer, then in the fall and winter, apparently I will be without power for days on end. And on top of that, the effects of the war have started to take its effect on me, when I don't feel even a hint of its near end, so I feel apathetic.

Chapter 27 - Connection

The stone-paved street of Canterlot is silent. Scattered along it are the remains of melted bodies, trash in the form of newspapers, magazines, and food scraps. The dangerous Pink Cloud swirls here and there, and the small concentration of it around gives the dreary surroundings a slightly pinkish hue. On opposite sides of the street, three figures stare intently at each other, one of them maintaining a magical barrier spell that gives off a faint hum and green light, holding the other two back. The hostages stand at the entrance to the Fluttershy Neurosurgery Research Institute, which is an imposing tall building of a yellowish hue with light pink frames on the windows.

The alicorn's green eyes froze in anticipation. From the look in her eyes, I can guess that she is extremely concerned about our attitude toward her. The item she is looking for is of great value to her, if she is willing to take the risk of contacting a stranger who once tried to kill her, but in the end, by a strange coincidence, kept her alive. She understood that by such an act, the stranger with the red glowing eyepieces in his helmet could show the ambiguity of his behavior, depending only on the attitude of those around him. A few minutes ago she had given away some of the truth about herself. Her gaze flickered with fear that her association with Surgeon might prove to be an obstacle to our potential cooperation. After reflecting on what I've heard with surprise, I realize it's still worth breaking the silence and not making her worry.

"It's okay..." I say in an apologetic tone, awkwardly placing my front hoof behind my head.

We've been wandering the grim ruins alone for two days now. Encountering a friendly individual, particularly an alicorn, that should have sizzled us—with her advantageous position!—is bewildering.

"We're just... surprised. Found ourselves unprepared for this turn of events."

"Why did it surprise you so much?" I can sense a receding shiver in her voice.

My guesses that she thinks our attitude towards Surgeon isn't very friendly are confirmed. She's so worried about the reputation of that nickname—probably oblivious to her past. As I gather my response again, Motley unceremoniously bests me.

"For two twenty-six hours, everything here has been trying to kill us. The alicorns are no exception," Motley explains. She and I have both been through the same thing here, no wonder our thoughts and experiences are the same. "And you didn't attack us. There's also no way we expected to meet such a famous person."

"I suppose..." the alicorn begins in a timid tone, surprising me even more: one rarely sees indecision in dangerous, powerful, and self-assured beings, "you know something about me.... That's good to know," she concludes.

Her gaze still follows us intently. The timidity in her voice and such a focused gaze... An unusual combination.

"Well... then we'll get to know each other," I proclaim in as friendly a tone as possible, trying hard to ignore the fact that she still has us under her hoof. "My name is Daniel," I put my hoof to my chest and then point it at the pegasus. "And this interruption-loving person in black armor is called Motley."

"Pleased to meet you," Surgeon enthuses.

"Likewise," I nod, "and... why don't you take that barrier down? It's a little stressful. Still, it's hard to make friends with someone while being caged."

The green alicorn freezes hesitantly. Her eyes lower and she glances sideways with a frown, clearly considering her next move. I can understand the hard choice she has to make: between trust and caution. After standing in silence for a few moments, she sighs heavily, and the magical barrier with its green glow disappears above us... but instead it appears around her.

Smart. She wants to show that we are free to go wherever we want and that we are not her prisoners, but at the same time she shows uncertainty about our intentions for her.

With a sigh of relief, I step slowly and carefully toward her, watching my movements so she doesn't perceive my actions as a threat. Now it's my turn to show my benevolence. I hear over the muffled shuffle as Motley tenses up, getting into a fighting stance behind me.

Great, the realization of support is comforting.

Surgeon doesn't relent and remains extremely cautious: she realizes that it's not a good idea to attack me under any circumstances if I don't do it first. Her long, thin horn shimmers with a green glow. It shimmers more and more intensely as I approach her. The green alicorn is tense to the max.

I raise my front hoof in a burst of interest and gently touch the barrier, feeling a barely perceptible vibration of magical power. Alicorn magic is marvelous... I especially realize this after so many days, when I have come to know the full potential of magic in this world.

My other me, Mr. Clean, has refrained from speaking, allowing only me to act. After all, we have different views mostly on loving relationships with anyone in this world, otherwise in one way or another he agrees with my actions and conclusions.

"Impressive," I say thoughtfully, looking over the barrier. "It would be incredibly foolish to argue with such a strong personality."

I return my attention to the alicorn supporting the barrier and remove my hoof. Her suspicious and wary look is replaced by one of bewilderment. If I were her, I would be no less confused.

"I understand your caution," I say. "It is commendable. I think... we should give you something in return."

Her eyes widen and her ears perk up in my direction. She's all ears.

"The crystal sword you seek may be in the garden outside the main castle. It was wielded by a certain... griffon," I say calmly, and at the mention of a griffon, some vague emotion runs through her gaze.

I can't figure out what exactly it might be related to, but there are definitely griffons involved.

"That was some twenty more years ago. I don't know exactly what happened to that griffon, but it probably became like the local natives. Turned into a Canterlot ghoul. And lest you think I'm trying to trap you that way, I'll warn you that there's a lethal concentration of Pink Cloud in there." I shrug defiantly, adding, "That's all we know."

She ponders my words, lowering her gaze. I can tell now that her expression has softened: it's not so tense anymore.

"That's very funny."

What do you mean?

"We ended up personally meeting exactly the two individuals that that gray unicorn from that tower of rich ponies recalled."

Yes... you're absolutely right. It was as if she had foreseen those meetings.

"Thank you," the alicorn replies after some thought, raising her eyes to me. "Now I have an idea of where to start looking from."

"It's good to hear that the information was useful to you," I nod my head forward as if to confirm the sincerity of my words.

I fix my eyes on the disfigured remains of a pony that had become one with the stone sidewalk. The sight sent chills through my body, reminding me once again that I was definitely not looking forward to ending my life in such a horrible and painful way.

"And what's your purpose here?" she asks with undisguised curiosity. A shuffling sound is heard behind me—Motley has something to object to. I talk to her over the radio to ask her not to interfere.

"Just like you—looking for one thing," I reply with slight trepidation. I haven't yet decided if I should reveal to her the true reasons for our being here.

However, I'm sure that trust must be mutual. Besides, she's already shown some of it to us. I hope this isn't a clever game played by an unpredictable alicorn. Who knows what's going on in her head, since all the alicorns, according to Motley, in Canterlot are rebelling against the Goddess and won't obey her.

"Which one?" she persists.

Her genuine interest takes me off guard a little... As if she really wants to help us. Her magical abilities will prove useful in this dangerous place. I intend to lift the veil.

"A key card." Surgeon expresses genuine incomprehension. I need to clarify a few things. "Long story," I shake my head slightly, showing my reluctance to go into detail. "Let's put it this way... There are six such key cards, thanks to which it is possible to gain access to one place, and one of them is definitely lost somewhere in the ruins of Canterlot."

"I think... I might be able to help you."

"That can't help but be surprising," I pronounce. "As far as I know, the alicorns in these parts are not subject to the Goddess, which is why you can expect anything at all from them." A shadow of a sneering smile appears on the alicorn's lips.

"The same could be said of any strangers in the Wasteland," she remarks. I'm lost for a moment, but I conclude that her remark makes sense.

"Fair enough," I snicker, lowering my head at this point.

Surgeon nods, then her gaze slowly lifts to the green magical barrier. After standing hesitantly for a few more seconds, she suddenly stops supporting it, and it disappears as if it never existed. Surgeon herself freezes with a noticeable tension waiting for an insidious attack, like a pre-war monument, which we have met before in various corners of these gloomy ruins. We, on the other hand, are in a more favorable position, so we are not particularly worried. But on an instinctive level we realize that we should not make any sudden movements. Seeing that we're not going to hurt her, she lets out a sigh of relief, as if her worries are going away with it.

"Well..." I address her in a friendly tone.

I glance cautiously away, at the lifeless and dreary street; after the emotional leaps that have arisen during the course of our acquaintance, it seems even more cold, lifeless, and bleak. It's enough to remember the horrors the ponies experienced on these streets as the mega spells fell and the pink gas that kills everything in its path spread. I turn to the alicorn watching my movements closely and nod my head toward the main castle.

"Let's go. The crystal sword and the key card await us."

***

Dusk had fallen, and with the pink mist, it was darker than it usually is in the Wasteland. Visibility was reduced, but thanks to our night vision devices, we don't feel any discomfort from the darkness. The alicorn has no such devices, of course; she uses another method, magic, and a green glow to illuminate the space beneath her hooves so that she doesn't trip over anything like debris or... the remains of some poor soul melded into the sidewalk.

The first time we walked together, there was some tension between us. The alicorn still walks to my left with suspicion and wariness, and it is caused, of course, not by the surroundings, but by our company. Motley follows close behind. I think the Surgeon's choice is not accidental: if we compare me and the pegasus in the power armor of the Enclave, I get more credit than she does. First, I saved the alicorn's life, something strangers don't usually do when meeting her kin. Second, she may have already encountered the Enclave personally, or at least known about them thanks to the Goddess, so she couldn't sympathize with Motley.

As I thought about all this, I suddenly remembered the Professor's assistant, the griffon, who had gone crazy towards the end and started disappearing for no visible reason. The reason for my memories of him was another inscription in pink paint, "Ghouls jump on you, they want a hug". Such a saying could only be uttered by a mind appropriate to this madness.

Soon we get used to each other, but we still remain silent, keeping an eye on the terrain and trying to avoid the ghouls. My thoughts are preoccupied with the very fact that we have met a neutral-minded... alicorn. The whole thing is thrilling. I suspect Motley feels the same way. No wonder we've forgotten the important thing of discussing tactics with a new face in the group.

Nor did I notice that it had gotten noticeably darker around us. The green glow of an alicorn's horn might attract the attention of ghouls or other alicorns, much like the light of a beacon for ships on shore. The encounter with the alicorn overshadowed my thoughts that after the Professor's lab we had actually planned to airlift back to Venture and sleep there without nightmares, which I remembered only now.

I inform everyone that it would be worthwhile to take a break somewhere and discuss our further maneuvers in the upcoming battles, not to mention that there's no point in walking the streets at night.

Everyone agrees amicably.

At that moment we pass near a three-story house, above which rises a small closed tower about three more stories high. I pause and look up at it. Surgeon and Motley follow my example, looking at me with interest and then following my gaze almost simultaneously. I can see the top of the tower from here: it's not badly intact. Visibility leaves much to be desired, making it impossible for me to make out its distinctive features, if it has any.

"We'll go up there and discuss things there," I say, keeping my head up. Venture is on the outskirts of the ruins, it's dangerous to invite the alicorn up there, as the Goddess could probably take control of it, and at the moment we don't have any sort of horn ring to block the use of spells.

"Why this particular tower?" the green alicorn asks puzzled.

"You're flying creatures here..." I explain in a thoughtful tone. "You can fly up into the air at any time and survey the local beauty, and I can't." I lower my head. "Besides, with our conversations at this altitude, we're unlikely to attract the attention of any nasty alicorns passing by."

"Are there any working radios up there?" the pegasus is curious.

"No," I simply answer without looking in her direction. Surgeon suddenly frowns and looks down in bewilderment.

"Huh... how would you know that?" she looks up at me. There's a level of skepticism in her voice as immeasurable as my curiosity.

"I'll explain later," I smile mischievously, then remember that she can't see the metamorphosis of emotion on my face anyway. I roll my eyes at my forgetfulness and sigh heavily. "Let's just say it was due to an error in one... device," I defiantly raise the spare PipBuck for a few seconds, "I can tell which way the nearest on-off radio is. I'll bet my tail that it's not observed on the side of this house."

"And this error... can be trusted?" she persisted.

The words 'error' and ''trusted'' sound strange in the same sentence. I snicker derisively.

"Otherwise we wouldn't have gotten here so easily. As paradoxical as it sounds, the error works without fail," I say it in a voice so enthusiastic and energetic that I feel like a salesman from a prewar commercial trying to convince the audience that they're guaranteed one hundred percent safety in the Vaults from the Vault-Tec Corporation. Yes... safe from bombs, but not from experimentation.

Surgeon presses her lips together, tilting her head to the side in thoughtfulness and staring at one point with a blank stare.

"Even flaws have benefits."

Without further ado, we enter the house, making sure that no Canterlot ghouls are currently occupying it. After a quick look around, we make our way to the top of the tower without a hitch. I have no desire to dig into the local interior. I am already tired, not so much from the search as from the gloom and sadness of the dead city itself, and this impression is reinforced by Pink Cloud itself, which artificially induces oppressive and vague feelings. It is likely that the cause of these experiences is the death memories hovering around, captured in the magic of the pink mist.

Thoughts of a new... ally—I hope she will be—occupy my mind even more than thoughts of the likely location of the keycard. As we ascend the stone steps, we get a chance to admire the local views once again. But not tonight, but tomorrow—now it's a deep, dark night outside.

Drawing the windows with faded golden curtains, Surgeon increases the luminosity of her magic, allowing us a better view of the interior. It combines gold and white colors: luxuriously upholstered sofas, an off-white wooden coffee table. The windows here are large, as if intended for viewing, or simply as a place for conversations over a cup of tea. It's quite comfortable.

I take off my helmet and gingerly inhale the local air. It's a little stale, with a copper tang, but I don't feel a sharp burning in my respiratory tract—I don't smell Pink Cloud here. Motley, on the other hand, prefers to stay in her helmet. Surgeon examines my face closely. At first I'm surprised, but then I realize she's never seen me without my helmet on.

I collapse tiredly on the gold-colored couch, relieved to throw off my bags and weapons and set them down nearby. Motley joins me, ducking under my front leg, removing her battle saddle with her Typhoon energy-magic plasma rifle and grenade launcher before doing so, as well as the bags with the rest of her gear. The pegasus' violation of my personal space has not escaped the alicorn's green eyes, but she pays no attention to it and lies down on a nearby couch in a modest, even constrained pose. I can only guess at the reasons: our presence nearby—or the Surgeon's imposing size in comparison to ordinary ponies. I think both are appropriate.

"Now we can talk it over in comfort," I say relieved. The alicorn's eyes are focused on me most of the time, not the pegasus. Apparently because I'm not wearing a helmet, and she'll finally be able to gauge my reactions during the conversation. Suspecting these intentions, I try to look as friendly as possible. "Let's start, I guess, with tactics in combat. Let's tell each other about our abilities."

Surgeon agrees without blinking an eye. We spend the next few hours productively discussing tactics, after which I once again note to myself that I didn't accept the alicorn as an ally for nothing—her magical skills are truly amazing and impressive, like a vast ocean. She can use a magical shockwave against a crowd of opponents, continuously maintain a barrier around herself for several hours while surrounded by a high concentration of Pink Cloud until her magic runs out, levitate objects ten times heavier than herself, communicate by telepathy over short distances, send lightning bolts, and so on.

I had to think it over carefully to adjust our actions in combat. We discussed nuances, suggestions and wishes, and in the end we came to some positive results. Of all her abilities I was interested in telepathy, I wanted to know more about it.

"What is your telepathy even capable of?" I ask with interest, looking closely at the green alicorn.

Her body is noticeably relaxed now, her facial expression indicating that she is calm and engaged in the discussion. She answers eagerly; it doesn't look like she's hiding anything from us.

"Telepathy is one of the Mother's main powers, which is how she is able to control us at a distance. The easiest way for her to do this is through... the green sisters. We're like, uh... little walking relays."

"You can read my mind?" I clarify slightly concerned.

There's a second pause that feels like a minute long. It's a burning question. Can I guarantee myself thought privacy in her presence? One intrusive voice is enough for me. For my Mr. Clean, the feeling is mutual.

"No," her face doesn't twitch or show any signs of lying. I almost sigh in relief, but hold back, deeming such behavior bad form. "I can only do that with mutual consent."

"Can you elaborate?"

"It's like..." she hesitates, raising her eyes to the ceiling as if searching there for a clue, "knocking on the door. You can answer it and talk to me on my doorstep, or you can choose not to. At any moment you are free to slam that door in my face. It's only when you're close to the Mother herself that you can't resist her invasion of your head. Let me demonstrate to you..."

Her piercing gaze focuses entirely on me, and I feel a sort of magical pressure in my head. It's easy to ignore, like something invisible is touching my head. It feels on both sides, at my temples.

"See," she says without breaking eye contact, though there's a strange perplexity in her gaze, "that's roughly what you feel when I try to read your mind. Without your consent, I can only broadcast my own thoughts into your head..."

"Like this..." her voice trails off, yet her lips remain still.

"It's rather unfamiliar to feel another voice. I too have experienced this... pressure. Do you think she recognized that we had a problem with our minds? You noticed her bewilderment too, didn't you, when she tried to read your... my... our thoughts."

Yes, I definitely noticed that.

A slight pause ensues.

"Is something wrong?" I wonder.

She opens her mouth, intending to give an answer, but suddenly stops before she even makes a sound. Her lips press together tightly.

I don't think she's ever encountered something like this before.

"It was unusual..." she says with difficulty, looking down somewhere.

"What was what, exactly?" I continue to persist.

"Hmm... Some kind of double resistance," she shakes her head slightly, as if she's having doubts about what she's saying. I decide to remain silent on the matter for now.

"You can heal..." the pegasus suddenly cuts into the conversation, slowly thinking out loud.

I think she too has noticed her puzzlement about some sort of double mental resistance, and noticing my silence, perhaps felt it necessary to change the subject. Partly the pegasus guessed correctly that I didn't want to answer that question—but really, I just didn't want to rush into revealing my... psychological problem, since that would inevitably involve my alien origins. "As I recall," she continues, "alicorns cannot use healing spells without the help of the Goddess. How do you manage that?"

"Mother can use the spells wielded by the unicorns she absorbed with no problem, it's true. Transformed unicorns can still remember their... habits, in this case, spells that were actively used prior to transformation."

This information reminds me of the behavior of Canterlot ghouls, whose bodies still remember what their hosts did when they were alive and shortly before they died: Octavia played the cello, and a follower of Celestia and member of the White Sun Cult used a magical shockwave against us as a ghoul.

"But there's another thing," Surgeon continues after a brief pause. "This is only true regarding... how do they say it... the old school."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, not fully understanding the meaning embedded in the definition. I have my guesses, but it's best not to guess and question it directly.

"Well... It's the sisters who lived long enough after the transformation. I appeared at a time when we were still unheard of within Splendid Valley. Rumors and myths, nothing more. It was somewhere around those years that my mother figured out the necessary dose to turn a pony into an alicorn that she needed, until then she had been plagued by failure to one degree or another."

"You take it so easy about it," Motley marvels. I share her feelings on the matter, since, like her, I've heard of the impersonality of alicorns at times when the Goddess is not in control of them.

"As I said, I was among the first. The longer one of the sisters has lived, the easier it is for her to get a sense of her own self during Mother's absence."

"And how old are you?" I ask.

"I can't say exactly... but at least twenty years. Here in Canterlot, with no connection, no sense of unity with the Mother, the the younger sisters... they..." she sighs heavily, looking sadly out the yellow-colored curtained window, beyond which is still an impenetrable night.

Homage had mentioned that Surgeon had suddenly disappeared a little over twenty years ago. I wonder what happened to her during that period? Was she kidnapped by the Goddess, or did she accept the offer herself after being in the vicinity of her residence?

"They... behave like orphaned foals gone mad. Some are losing their minds, others, of which there are most, have recognized a new leader who now calls herself as Nightseer."

"Why didn't you join her?" the pegasus asks. In her voice I catch a note of wariness and suspicion, these emotions are infused in myself.

Indeed, why was it that Surgeon didn't want to assist her kin?

"She is as long-lived as I am. She is the one who supports the rebellious urges of the other sisters."

"Acting like a stepmother," Motley comments.

"Yeah... She's effectively replaced our Mother for them. For some reason they can't leave Canterlot to return to her."

"You still haven't answered," I cautiously point out. The Surgeon's look clearly indicates that she doesn't want to answer that question—or she genuinely doesn't know herself.

"I just had no desire to indulge her. She wants to accomplish goals that I don't share. I've lived long enough that I don't need a substitute Mother. Besides, I already have a purpose."

"The Crystal Sword," I utter. She nods.

"It's the only clear image that's shown up vaguely in my memories over the years. In Canterlot... it felt more overt, as if something was pulling me towards it. An invisible connection, strengthened in Canterlot, tells me it's here somewhere."

Suddenly I hear the long, tired yawn of the pegasus.

"I wouldn't mind a nap," she says.

"Aren't you afraid she'll do something to us while we're sleeping?" I ask playfully, furtively glancing at the green alicorn. Motley is eloquently silent, obviously not knowing how she should answer.

"Are you suggesting we take turns sleeping?"

"Why?" Surgeon intervenes, drawing our attention to herself. "Well... one of you won't sleep, so what of it? I can deal with the first one in such a way that the other won't notice it and will sleep peacefully on." I stiffen in tense anticipation and swallow. "Don't worry, there's no reason for me to harm you. I told you back when we met."

"That's reassuring," I mutter. A shadow of a smile looms on her lips, which soon disappears. She turns away and rests her head on her front legs.

"Sweet dreams." She covers her eyes, but her ears stand guard like two sentries, waiting for a suspicious rustle from our direction.

I try to sleep, resting my head back on the back of the couch.

***

The 6th of the Month of Rain, Blueday. Seventy-first day of my stay.

Nightmares. During our journey through the ruins of Canterlot together, a green alicorn sneakily used a magic spell against Motley and me and caused my heart to burst. With a titanic effort, I managed to take it as a dream and not take it personally.

Dying in my sleep, I wake up instantly and almost groan. The piercing and believable pain in my heart gradually subsides, followed by blissful relief. I sigh greedily. Lucky it wasn't so loud.

I look around tiredly, gathering my thoughts, realizing where I am. The green alicorn is sleeping peacefully on the couch across from me. Her ears are down and her expression shows contentment. Looking at her, I wonder if the alicorns are experiencing the oppressive experiences brought on by Pink Cloud, and if they are having nightmares that are a mixture of someone else's death memories and their own fears. Without taking our eyes off the Surgeon's peaceful face, I can assume that these nightmares do not visit them, or do not have the same effect on them that they have on me, Motley, Professor and his griffon assistant, Octavia... The conclusion is that the more impressive the reserves of magical energy, the weaker the influence of Pink Cloud on the psyche of sentient beings.

I focus my attention on Motley and look at her casually. Unfortunately, she's wearing a helmet, so I have no idea if she's having nightmares or how she's perceiving them. Hopefully she'll be able to control her fears.

I glance at the curtained window. It's dark. I could still sleep.

***

I don't feel Motley beside me. In a rush of panic, I frantically look around and cling to the couch like my life depends on it. My head is filled with chaotic and disorderly thoughts in an instant.

Have they abandoned me? Or has something terrible happened and somehow it has passed me by? Or was this just another nightmare?

Almost immediately, the green alicorn comes into view. She's looking interestedly to my left. Following her gaze, I see Motley, stretching her muscles in her Enclave power armor. I sigh in relief and relax, no longer squeezing the couch with my front legs.

"Oh," the pegasus exclaims and pauses her warm-up, "you're awake already. Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"So-so," I yawn and rub my eyes, then rest my head back on the back of the soft couch with a sense of exhaustion. The nightmares are still unbalancing, invigorating in the worst way that makes me want to cry. "You know yourself. How did it go for you?"

"Hard, but I didn't fall for it a second time, so I was able to pull myself together," she continues to warm up.

"Good for you," I smile faintly, eyeing the relief of the crumbling ceiling with indifference. "Good morning to you too, Surgeon," I lift my right front leg and wave it lightly.

"Likewise."

First test passed. A night together. We trusted each other, and it ended quite happily. I hope it does. At least, I'd like to hope so. Who knows how she'll act when the battle with the other alicorns proves inevitable.

I lie in a relaxed pose for a few more minutes, drifting away from the realistic dream, and then I get up, stretching languidly and walking lazily over to the window, pulling back the golden curtain. The bleakness and gloom of the Canterlot ruins remains unchanged: a faint pink mist envelops and permeates everything, Pink Cloud reaching a high concentration and density in some places. High in the air, there are no large concentrations of it, just down around the houses and along the streets. A scattering of Canterlot's former inhabitants can be seen, all standing silently in the same place. There are noticeably more of them here than on the outskirts.

"So many ghouls here..." I mutter dejectedly. Surgeon apparently hears this, as it is followed by her melancholy and thoughtful comment.

"Only a handful of individuals like the Steel Rangers made it to the center, so there are more ghouls here. These ghouls have had little contact with anyone since the megaspells dropped. The sisters are trying to stay far away from the Ministry Walk, thanks to their efforts there and on the approaches to it, the ghouls are significantly fewer. They're practically nonexistent."

"And what about you? How much have you surveyed the ruins outside of the Ministry Walk?"

I continue to peer at the surroundings below. Surgeon pauses for a moment, gathering her thoughts, and after a while, she talks about her exploration experience in an indifferent tone.

"In my searches for the crystal sword, I have traveled to many different parts of the city. Found mostly the mangled remains of travelers. Some died in the first blocks on the outskirts of the city. Another part was fleeing in fear due to poor mind—those were the most numerous. The rest were able to figure things out as they went along, killing some of the ghouls or managing to avoid encounters with them, and moved on."

Thoughts of the White Sun Cult come to mind. Their members traveled here on their final journey, hoping to reach Celestia, to her new world. They, I understand, were better than most at surviving here.

"Experienced adventurers could still return, but the thirst for pre-war treasures like jewels, technology, and knowledge proved stronger: loners went mad and made mistakes. As for whole groups..."

There is a sense of sympathy and sorrow in her impassive voice. It was unusual not to hear arrogance, disdain, and self-righteousness in an alicorn's voice. She does give the impression of being different from most alicorns due to the fact that she has lived longer than most of them, albeit under the rule of the Goddess.

"They turned against each other. Many in the Wasteland fear betrayal more than anything else. And the local nightmares drove them mad with their realism."

Just like Sierra Madre. The thirst for treasure made people paranoid lunatics, and they began to suspect each other of betrayal. Here, suspicion and doubt were heightened by dreams... Wait. How does Surgeon know that dreams are realistic? She slept normally last night. Or did I misinterpret the outward manifestations? Either I didn't wake up that night, or I just dreamed it. That's the problem with local dreams: it's hard to tell what's real and what's not.

"Do the alicorns have realistic dreams in Canterlot?" I ask after a moment's thought, looking at a silhouette in the power armor of the Steel Rangers. It stands nearby a working radio on a pole surrounded by other Pink Cloud victims in beautiful and delightful outfits... which are now an integral part of them. It's a sad sight. I look away.

"Whenever. Unless we're magically exhausted, it hardly bothers us at all."

"How do you know about what happened to the fearless travelers?" Surgeon again takes her time answering that question, pausing for a moment.

"Some kept records, some left writings on the walls. Sometimes I myself reconstructed the events of what happened. I judged the realism of the dreams from the records of the adventurers themselves who died here. On a certain day, I overdid my defense spells in the dense clusters of Pink Cloud and in fights against Canterlot ghouls. I began to feel like..." There is a slight pause, causing me to turn around and pay attention to her. There is a look of doubt in her gaze. "Worse... psychologically, I wanted to rest and recover. That's when I learned the essence of local dreams."

I turn and look into the space above: above all this dragging and sad picture rise the sullen ruins of the main castle with the Ministry Walk at its foot. The place where the rulers of Equestria once dwelt. I think that for those who are fond of stories about the pre-war world, such structures are sure to have some symbolic value, while evoking a thrill of awe, longing, and... a toxic rebuke to the pre-war leaders for failing to prevent the apocalypse.

I would have understood the feeling of seeing the castle if I had grown up in this world.

"For we have experienced something similar to these things ourselves. They're familiar to us, aren't they? That's what we felt when we first saw the Capitol in Washington. It was where the fate of an entire nation was once decided. You can't be immune to it. In places like this, leaders were responsible for all the people of their own country and the hostile one."

That's true. Even though all I can see now is the dark silhouette of the castle, the home of the pre-war elite of the state... that ruled this "'rainbow' and 'peace-loving' world, to which I have nothing to do.

"What are you thinking about?" the Surgeon's voice is heard behind me.

"About the past..." I turn to the green alicorn, closing the window with the curtain, not wanting to delve any further into unnecessary and irrelevant musings for the moment.

Motley continues to warm up. I think again about the nature of local dreams. It's worth clarifying.

"Speaking of which. I've come to the conclusion that Pink Cloud's magic is affected by the death memories of itsf victims seeping into our dreams, making them seem so... realistic and believable, mixed with our own experiences and fears."

Surgeon stares at me with round eyes. She can't dismiss this guess so easily and sinks into deep thought, lowering her gaze and comparing my conclusions to what she already knows. As with Motley, the green alicorn's gaze clears as the key thought unfolds. Ultimately she takes note of the hypothesis, but does not consider it the truth. I didn't expect much more than that.

"That... makes sense," she says with a long pause, raising a thoughtful gaze. Then she focuses her gaze on me with interest. "But... how did you come to that conclusion?"

"By chance," I shrug and smile weakly. "In an instant, the word 'memory' came to my mind, and like a snowball rolling down a snowy mountain, things gradually began to make sense."

"Yeah..." she nods hesitantly, "I agree that such a guess is more like luck. Sometimes all it takes is one word to make everything clear, but you have to think of that word. Have you tried other ideas?"

"Yeah..." I frantically swipe my hoof behind my scruff, absent-mindedly staring at the ceiling and recalling my worried and panicked state. "But those were crazy thoughts, for example, reality and dream mixed up in my perception. Reality is perceived wrongly, and in dreams everything grows new details, or something like that. One could go crazy because of this assumption, especially in a gloomy atmosphere. Such thoughts are very intrusive... like annoying flies circling around. Oh, well. Let's not talk about that. The memory hypothesis fits best."

"Couldn't agree more," she points out softly.

I feel a rumbling in my stomach.

"So... need a snack," I say enthusiastically, walking over to my bags and rummaging around for a treat.

My food supply is running low. I must hurry. I don't really want to eat the local food: it's soaked in Pink Cloud anyway. I am lucky that the protection spells I cast have kept the contents of my bags from being saturated with this pink gas, at least in places where its concentration in the air is minimal. Miraculously, I managed to avoid the so-called Pink Cloud pockets, where my defense spells are as useless as a fork against a Deathclaw.

Motley interrupts her workout and follows my example, pulling food from her own bags. As I spread the dense containers of food out on a small table, I notice the green alicorn's interested gaze running over our food.

What a silly me... Completely forgot about her. Before I could offer her something to taste, she beat me to it.

"Thanks, I don't want any," she smiles appreciatively, shaking her head.

"You won't regret it?" I question, remembering her interested look.

Motley opens the container of oatmeal and proceeds to devour it: she does so carefully and delicately, occasionally licking the remains of the porridge off her lips. Surgeon stares specifically at the pegasus for a while in conversation with me, as she hasn't seen her without her helmet yet.

"You need it more than I do."

"Huh?"

"Alicorns can consume food and water, but our body's needs are supported by our own magical reserves. Feral ghouls, after all, live off magical radiation. Our bodies, on the contrary, are sustained by pure magic."

"Hmm," I smile, thinking about how much we could save on food and water. "I'd like that."

"Well... if you're willing to be my... sister..." she begins sweetly, looking at me sneakily with a shadow of a sinister smirk on her lips.

"No, no, no!" I protest, picturing myself as a huge green mare that barely fits into standard armor. "I think I'd rather stay a stallion."

"You know," the pegasus responds, taking a break from her oatmeal, "I was thinking I wouldn't mind seeing you as a mare," she says in a careless and seemingly casual voice, and then licks herself, picking the remnants of food off her lips in a slow and... provocative motion. The latter could have just been me imagining it. I sigh heavily and look at her doomedly. She consumes her porridge with a serious and unwavering look.

"It'll only happen in your wet fantasies," I say, remembering that she's equally interested in both sexes.

Only in fantasies... Anything can happen in this world. I, for example, was able to change species altogether. I doubt this world makes it any harder for anyone to change sex.

"You turn into a mare, eventually you'll be torn between stallion desire and mare desire... And we'll have one more identity. Daniel's new identity will be in favor of us becoming romantically involved with a male. Ferris, for example."

Fuck you. I've had enough of you.

Meanwhile, there is absolutely no reaction from the pegasus: a paragon of equanimity, as befits an Enclave officer. Instead, I hear a slight chuckle from the side. Not expecting such a reaction from Surgeon, I turn in surprise to see the green alicorn, her body struggling to fit on the golden dulled couch.

"When you've had breakfast," she says in her regular voice, as if she hadn't heard the pegasus' kink desires, "we need to discuss the possibility of a synchronized connection between our magical reserves."

This suggestion surprises not only me, but Motley as well, causing her to remove her mask of indifference and look at her interlocutor with bewilderment. Noticing by our looks that we are burning to hear an explanation, she continues.

"You, by your own words, possess teleportation. I could use it in battle, but as it happens, I don't know how to use it on my own. So I thought we could use a connection like that," she says solemnly.

The beige winged pony continues to devour her porridge, but, judging by her pointed ears, she's watching our conversation intently.

I recall something like that... Each of the three alicorns can only use one type of special spell. Alicorns share knowledge, then why can't they use all three special spells? How do they even have a learning process?

"What about learning?" I inquire. ''Don't you exchange knowledge there?

"We share experience," she corrects me, "but with the spells..." she looks up to the ceiling as if wanting to find the answer there and shakes her head slightly, "it's not that simple."

"Then what is the problem?" I am perplexed. The alicorn's eyes lower and focus on me again.

"In the knowledge itself. It must be simple and easy to understand. With each connection of the Mother, the sisters under her control gain the experience gained by the others. She... acts as a catalyst for the sharing of experience because she is lika a storage facility. These experiences are represented in the form of... images, like memories."

"Then how do you use each other's special spells like teleportation and invisibility?

"The Mother does that for us. She uses our magical reserves to cast spells. She rarely gets involved in combat, leaving us to deal with the situation ourselves. Similarly, she forced us into teamwork."

"Speaking of combat," I recall something from my first encounter with the alicorns.

The Goddess was communicating directly with me then. In that case, why didn't she intervene with the appearance of the turrets to teleport her away from danger?

"Why didn't the Goddess on the roof of Princess Luna Information Center then take control of you and teleport you away?"

"The 'connection' process doesn't happen instantaneously," she immediately clarifies. "She had to be distracted during that period of time, there are quite a lot of us and everyone needs attention. When the situation escalated and the turrets appeared, she simply didn't have time. It was too late to intervene, because the moment she 'connect', a sister loses concentration over the spell she's creating. If that had happened, the shield around us would have vaporized prematurely and the turrets would have turned us into dust."

"Yeah..." I hum nervously, remembering the events on the roof like it was yesterday, "lucky your powers were enough to last until the turrets overheated."

Surgeon only nods affirmatively, then lowers her gaze to the food.

"So?" she mentions. "Would you consider this synchronization thing? Think about it, since you won't need to use your magic reserves to teleport yourself."

"That actually sounds tempting. But I need to think it over properly." My Mr. Clean already has something to object to about this. Another, more insistent and menacing rumbling in my stomach ensues. All right, all right, okay, I say mentally to my hungry stomach. "But I can't wait to eat..." I almost drool at the sight of my food: the smell of Motley's food has warmed my appetite more.

***

During breakfast, Mr. Clean had already said a lot of things to me. My other me warned me not to let her into our minds so early, that if she found out about our origins, she wouldn't react in the nicest way. It all makes sense, of course, but we're in the ruins of Canterlot, where, for a moment, the deadly, psychologically infuriating Pink Cloud reigns supreme. The closer we get to the center of its spread, the worse it gets: there are more and more 'pockets' with high concentrations of enchanted pink gas and Canterlot ghouls eager to sink their teeth into our flesh. Any opportunity to improve our chances of survival while looking for that damn keycard must be taken into consideration, despite the likely risks in the other matter.

At one point, my other me expressed a very reasonable doubt:

"It's undoubtedly useful for her to be able to teleport during combat, but what if this is some kind of trap to control us?"

A couple more arguments arise between me and Mr. Clean, but in the end we come to the conclusion that it's worth the risk. The prospect of dying because of a missed opportunity doesn't appeal to me at all, even if that opportunity is the cause of a different kind of risk.

I am thinking about all this while sitting in my seat, some time after breakfast. Surgeon sits on the couch across from me, patiently awaiting my verdict. Motley is relaxed on the couch next to me, serenely reading one of the books found in the house after breakfast. She started eating before I did, so she had time to run out to get the book.

The book is about a hippogriff traveling back before Discord came along and his impressions of Equestria under the rule of Celestia and Luna for decades: The Age of Friendship. I remember it was after Discord appeared on Aris Island that the hippogryphs began to lead a more isolated lifestyle. They dwell in isolation, much more isolated than the same Great Pegasus Enclave. This traveling hippogriff, I take it, was one of the last ones still interested in the outside world.

"Anyway," I voice, eyeing the cover of the book; the Surgeon's green ears perked up, "I agree. Let's set up a connection between our magical reserves."

"Mm-hmm..." Motley stretches out mischievously, not taking her eyes off her book reading. "What a curious intimacy you two are about to have."

"Jealous?" I play along.

"Well..." she puts the book down and looks me in the eye. "Not so much jealous as envious. Having the opportunity to physically share your powers with a special pony... Is quite romantic. Not just a psychological bond, but a physical one... literally."

"If it's that important to you," judging by the concerned voice of the green alicorn, she feels she must intervene, "I and all my sisters are asexual, we don't seek sexual ties..." the pegasus politely interrupts her at this point.

I chuckle involuntarily. I forget that it's hard for an outside observer to recognize our mutual banter at times.

"Calm down," the pegasus holds back a smile and raises a front hoof in her direction. Surgeon looks at her with confusion. "That's just us teasing each other. Though I must admit, your asexuality is beyond reassuring."

"We avoided a misunderstanding, that's good," she smiles awkwardly. "You're partial to each other, and I was uncomfortable suggesting this kind of connection with one of you."

Motley and I laugh lightly at the same time, which causes a mixture of bewilderment and confusion on Surgeon's part—she is completely lost by our behavior. If alicorns are asexual, why is Surgeon acting as if this question matters to her? Perhaps there's something I'm not realizing or noticing?

"Based on your reaction," I say, "it doesn't sound like you're indifferent to love relationships."

"The thing is. I... my sisters... we've been bound to each other all our lives, especially with Mother. We are born with that strong bond, we feel it even in the absence of her control over us. It's hard, but without this... connection, it doesn't get any easier. We feel abandoned and alone. That's why the sisters here have mental problems. That's why they joined Nightseer so easily, that's why they try to stick together. Connections have a special meaning to us... I was afraid that..." she sighs timidly, "your relationship, whatever it is, would be made worse by my offer."

There is silence in the air, and I glance at Motley. We both know what it's like to lose a strong bond with loved ones, so it's not hard for us to understand the alicorn's feelings. Reflecting on the importance of social bonds... unity, after all,,. for alicorns, I no longer find it strange or unusual that Surgeon so readily agreed to make contact with a stranger like me. On the other hand, it raises the reasonable question of why don't they return to the Goddess after leaving the influence of Pink Cloud? It would seem to be the most obvious solution.

"Then..." I begin again, "why don't you want to return to the Goddess, since you need connection so badly? Or unity?"

The full meaning of the Unity promoted by the Goddess only now reaches me. Separated from her, the alicorns are still imbued with this idea, not only psychologically, but physically as well. They are made to feel part of a greater unity. We are all social beings for the most part. I suppose the alicorns of the Goddess look at this issue differently due to their nature.

"It's a... complicated question..." she smiles bitterly. "They stay because... they can feel free. They like the Unity, but they don't agree that they must obey their stern mother in everything. The foals want to get out from under the influence of their despotic parents, get rid of their oversight, and have fun. My sisters, as I said, are similar to the foals in this, but unlike the latter, they are physically disconnected, and so are desperately looking for... a better replacement. Many have found it in Nightseer."

The alicorns desire unity, a strong bond with someone, but they want to be rid of the Goddess's commands. They are indeed foals... unable to defy their parents, to argue with them. With that said, it's safe to assume that the alicorns will remain united without the Goddess. They're like a big family. The family theme permeates their behavior and worldview, it's even traced in the words of Surgeon, she calls the other alicorns 'sisters' in almost all cases, and the Goddess—'Mother'.

"All right," I get up from my chair and do a little warm-up. "It's time to do some useful stuff. Where do we start... building our bond?"

"There's one more issue we need to address first."

"What's that?" I wonder, pausing my warm-up and looking at the green alicorn with wonder.

"Do you have psychological issues?" She asks bluntly and offhandedly, making me almost choke on air.

It was unexpected, like being doused with ice water from a bucket!

"She figured it out after all!"

Considering what she said about alicorns with psychological problems due to the loss of a tangible and meaningful mental connection to the Goddess, this shouldn't be surprising. I had completely forgotten about the double resistance she noticed yesterday when she tried to read our minds, so it didn't get any further development.

"What do we do?"

We tell the truth. but not the whole truth.

"Are you crazy?"

There's nothing left for us to do.

"Yes... there is," I answer slowly and carefully, casting concerned glances at Motley, who's distracted from her reading.

I wonder what she's thinking about my decision to reveal my cards. She changed the subject yesterday when Surgeon brought up about some double resistance. She recognizes the importance of my unconventional psychological state, which shouldn't be talked about much because of its causes, namely our non-Equestrian background.

"I do have a split personality."

"I had my suspicions about that..." she says in a rather mundane voice, as if there's nothing unusual about it for her, similar to a sneeze, which disappoints me somewhat. "And what's your relationship like?"

"Yes so far we reach a compromise on almost all issues."

My answer impresses Surgeon. Well, at least I surprised her somehow about my psychological state! On the other hand... bragging about psychological problems is like bragging about diseases. It's not good.

"And if she finds out you're from another world, she'll lose her jaw."

"Then... what are the causes of the problem? What kind of trauma or whatever happened in your life?" she asks curiously.

"That's too long of a story." I think back to the long conversation with Spike, the explanations with excuses for Motley. I frankly don't feel like retelling my origins once again so soon. "I'll tell you later sometime. I'll just say that I'm the one in control of the body, for some reason the other me is unwilling to do so. It's..." I ponder, searching for a word that would explain the reluctance to be in charge without any suspicion.

"Uncomfortable," Mr. Clean throws me the necessary word.

"...uncomfortable."

"Interesting..." she puts a hoof to her chin, looking thoughtfully somewhere off to the side. After a bit, she returns her attention to me. "Just so you understand, telepathy with split personality is not so simple. You need the consent of all personalities for there to be a link of magical reserves, since you share the same brain, otherwise it will cause a lot of problems. Your other identity... agree to this connection?"

I take my time to answer as I expect to hear confirmation from my Mr. Clean once again.

"Yes..." he mutters in my head with obvious reluctance.

"He agrees," I nod.

Surgeon's face brightens.

"Wonderful!" she smiles, almost tapping her front hooves.

Such a genuine and contented smile on her part I've never seen before. I cannot help but smile. Yesterday, she said she didn't need a replacement the Goddess—but that doesn't mean she doesn't need connections at all. For whatever reason, she hasn't been able to team up with the lone alicorns. She was starved for companionship.

"You know, Daniel," she begins a little more reservedly, a certain sad understanding evident in her eyes. I don't immediately realize the reason for her feelings. "We have something in common already at this point. I completely understand what it's like to share your head with someone else... someone who can control your body," she gives me a sympathetic smile.

Everything inside me fills with warmth, relief, and joy.

It's so good to know that I'm not alone in this plan anymore! Despite all of Motley's understanding and sympathy, she cannot fully comprehend my psychological situation, whereas Surgeon has lived with it for over twenty years. Before this, I felt like I was alone in this situation: I didn't know who I should turn to for help. There were no highly qualified therapists to be found in the Wasteland.

I embrace Surgeon in a tight hug, my emotions overflowing with joy and mutual understanding.

***

The exuberant joy clouds my mind, so I don't immediately notice the alicorn's reaction. I learn of it through Motley's words. She kindly informs me that at the moment of the embrace, Surgeon's face took on a very vivid and indescribable expression. As a comparison, Motley brings up the feelings of a heterosexual stallion when suddenly something penetrates his ass.

I have no idea where the pegasus came up with such an analogy, if the situation described is applicable to any individual regardless of orientation, but she conveyed the essence of the reaction clearly, explaining the reason for the green alicorn's dazed and amazed look. Trust is not honored in the harsh environment of the Wasteland, but in addition, the alicorns have developed a very formidable and intimidating reputation due to the orders of the Goddess, and as a result, everyone sees them as a great danger. On that basis, I doubt Surgeon expected such warm and friendly behavior from a stranger and Wasteland dweller like me. She could have been frightened and under a great deal of stress. Realizing this, I feel bad about my rash and emotional act.

"Celestia's thousand year reign with the doctrine of friendship has not gone unnoticed by ponies. No wonder it's affecting you. You just want to cuddle with everything."

Everybody loves hugs.

"But not out of the blue," Mr. Clean says.

I apologize for my behavior, and we proceed to practice synchronizing magical reserves. It takes about an hour before we have positive results: we begin to sense each other's magical reserves. That... accessing so much magic is hard to compare. In the first few seconds, it felt like I was suffocating. From the bathtub, where I barely fit and naively splashed around with my spells, it was like diving into a huge fucking pool! A storm of emotions arose in my head, how many things could be done with all that magic! My head filled with thoughts of the potential of such... power.

"I see you're impressed," Surgeon smiles at me, allowing herself a bit of pride, which she obviously has every right to be, " with my magical reserves."

"Uh-huh..." I say with a huff under deep impression, feeling this huge pool of magical energy.

I catch myself being somewhat intoxicated by this amount of magic. Shaking my head, I pull myself together and feel humiliated and insulted in regards to magic.

"I guess..." I chuckle awkwardly, "to you, my internal magical energy seems like a mug of tea that could be knocked over in one gulp."

Surgeon smiles demurely and nods softly, deeming her words here unnecessary as they might affect my pride. Now I'm really starting to feel like a flawed and incapable unicorn.

"It's okay, sweetie," the pegasus says, having been silent throughout my training, "you are still my ultimate wizard."

She says it in a tone that makes me feel another wave of embarrassment, even greater than the previous one.

I'm being pitied! Damn you all to hell! I don't want to be sensitive about my magical energy reserves. It's one thing to be jealous of seeing someone better than you, but it's quite another to literally feel the difference!

"It's like trying a quality whiskey, after which you don't want to go back to the cheap and tasteless one."

At the same time, the fact that Motley detected anxiety in my voice and demeanor is warming and comforting.

Surgeon and I figure out how far apart we can keep our magical reserves synchronized, since she's not a Goddess and can't maintain contact over great distances, and we start practicing our spells. As far as Surgeon explained to me, the Goddess used a slightly different method, she had full control over the alicorns and applied her spells in their bodies. Now we still apply the spell in our own bodies with access to our partner's magical reserves.

We start with a simple and childish spell, telekinesis. Well, not us, just me: Surgeon doesn't have to do anything, because I'm the one who needs her magic, not the other way around.

It's amazing. Using someone else's magic to create spells is so easy and simple—like spinning a boulder without any weight. No effort required. In math, you make a calculation that immediately translates into reality in the form of some phenomenon or object without expending any resources.

As if at the snap of a finger you create a strawberry dessert in front of you, it is enough only to understand the structure and essence of the 'strawberry dessert'.

After ten minutes, we move on to a useful barrier in combat, my repair spells that require an impressive amount of engineering knowledge—and then to the equally challenging teleportation. I teleport the alicorn to another part of the room! It would seem that we can celebrate and rejoice, but unfortunately, it's not without a spoonful of crap. After teleportation is applied, the connection is instantly broken. We have to set it up again, which takes a few seconds. In combat, every second counts, so you shouldn't rely on teleportation often: only in certain cases where it will do more good than harm. In extremely dangerous situations, I can teleport Surgeon to safety with my magical energy, but I expend it quickly.

There's a significant difference between the amount of water in a swimming pool and a small bathtub.

I ask Surgeon if she is capable of learning teleportation. She answers in the affirmative, but it requires a teacher who is excellent at the spell. I'm a shitty magic teacher, so I'm not an option. She adds that she can learn from the appropriate spell book. That's wonderful news! I won't have to find someone to teach her—such a professional is harder to find in the Wasteland than a generous mercenary. At some point in the discussion, I remember that I myself learned teleportation from a book—it's still gathering dust somewhere in Heavenly Harbor. She's not indifferent to the news.

***

The three-story tower house that had served as our cozy lodging was behind us. We're full of energy, ready to tear the ass off any Canterlot ghoul and spare their suffering bodies from the agony of Pink Cloud.

The key cards are directly linked to the heads of the Ministries, and Ministerial Walk is home to the headquarters of all six. It's worth searching. We plan to reach it gradually, checking any radio frequencies along the way that the chip points to—in case the elusive fifth key card somehow ends up there.

"The chances of that are too low, but why not?"

We turn down an alley between backyards with stone fences, as a dense cluster of Pink Cloud blocks the way ahead. Its epicenter is getting closer and closer, and the dense clusters of pink gas around it are getting correspondingly larger. To avoid such situations, Surgeon agrees to fly up into the air and inspect the condition of the nearby streets leading to the Ministry Walk. She's the one who'd be best to make such a move: there won't be any problems if she's spotted by another alicorn.

Motley and I are alone for now, but we're only communicating by radio just in case. There's a lot to talk about.

"Motley," I turn to her as I pass the white-painted inscription on the gray stone fence, 'Get your hooves out of here before they become part of the sidewalk!'

"Yeah?"

"It's about polygamy..."

"Oh. Did you have any questions?"

"Yes... And here's the first of them. Why did you emphasize the fact that alicorns are asexual? Sounds like normal jealousy in a monogamous relationship."

I hear a flustered chuckle, followed by a sepulchral silence. Perhaps she needs time to formulate an answer.

Another dense cluster of Pink Cloud blocks the way again: we try to pass through one of the backyards. The gate makes a nasty metallic scraping sound; a growl comes from deep inside the house. I shudder, but I brace myself to fend off the attack. I activate my sword, small blue sparks running across its blade. The ghouls don't feel pain, but a good shock of electricity is guaranteed to cause muscle contraction and trouble moving.

In the next instant, a dead guy comes running out of the house. The door swings open sharply, slamming against the wall. The ghoul's lifeless eyes glimmer with an ominous silver glow, and its wide-open maw reveals its irresistible desire for our flesh. I am closest to it, so it is no surprise that I am the first target of its gastronomic interest.

I activate my V.A.T.S. and try to determine the trajectory of its jump. I point the sword at the desired spot and disable the V.A.T.S.. The blade of the electrified sword goes tangentially around its neck.

Holy shit! Close contact cannot be avoided!

The electricity reduces the Canterlot ghoul's speed, allowing me to regroup in time. I extend my front legs and try to hold him down by engaging my telekinesis. I lose concentration over the sword and drop it. My blue glow of magic envelops the raging ghoul in several places. I pay special attention to its head with my telekinesis as it tries to sink its teeth into my throat with incredible tenacity.

Why is Motley standing still?!

I use my hind legs to push the dead guy off me with my telekinesis. I'm having trouble doing it. I stand up, pick up the sword that has fallen from my grasp, telekinesis immobilize the Canterlot ghoul, and pin it to the ground. It struggles in my magical grip, but to no avail. I swing my sword over the body of the snarling ghoul and chop intensely at its neck.

The chopping blows to flesh and bone are accompanied by slurping sounds, its body convulsing from the effects of the current. Pink blood splatters in all directions, most of it hitting me. After a few strokes, I manage to completely separate its head from the body. Thick dark pink blood slowly gushes from the neck. The bloody sword hovers beside me, its point angled downwards, pink liquid dripping down onto the ground.

"Why didn't you help me?" I ask in a disappointed voice, breathing heavily. She was playing the cold and silent statue while I was single-handedly butchering this dead pony!

"Thought it just wanted to make friends with you," she replies in an innocent voice. I turn to look at her. Is she kidding me? "What, wasn't that a hug?"

I take a deep breath and calm down. Resentment, however just, will only get in the way. Her act must have a reason.

"Don't believe everything that's written on the walls," I say. It's worth supporting her humorous explanation. Perhaps then she'll tell the truth. After all, it's extremely important to her.

I deactivate my sword and cleanse myself of the remnants of dark pink blood. The traces will undoubtedly remain, but they are the least of my worries right now.

"Listen..." she approaches me. "I just wanted to make sure you could overpower a ghoul by being one-on-one with it. In case I'm not around."

Ah... that's it.

"You've obviously forgotten the shit I've been through in my time."

"I remember. You've even literally been in it." I roll my eyes, trying not to remember that horrible moment. "However, that doesn't mean skills can't get rusty."

"Got it... So... Where were we there? Ah, yes. On polygamous relationships."

"Well... look. It's not that simple. I mean, I don't know this big green pony at all, and neither do you, actually, and this kind of magic makes you two closer. Of course I'll be jealous, since this magical connection is only between her and you. It's already an unequal playing field."

"Do you care about equal playing field even in such small things?"

"Absolutely."

I clean the sword of blood, put it back in its sheath, and look around. My gaze clings to a tombstone at the other end of the backyard. Judging by its size, it's made for some kind of pet. I head over to it to get a closer look. It's unusual. Motley paces behind me.

"So," I continue, "to balance things out, all you have to do is form a magical connection with Surgeon?"

"Uh... No... I just don't want to start a relationship with just anyone, nor do I want to let them get close to me or you this early in the dating process. Are you... have a crush on her already?"

"No. What do you take me for? I'm just wondering how local polygamous relationships work. Noticing your jealousy, I wanted to clarify that particular thing..." I utter, eyeing the nameplate at the base of the tombstone, 'Hope'. My gaze rises a little higher. "Listen. I'm looking at the figure of the headstone and wondering what it means."

"You mean this?" she taps the F-shaped headstone with her hoof. "It's an ancient symbol of respect for the dead."

"Ancient? And how do you know about that?"

"Again, from ancient pegasus culture. While studying in the Enclave, the instructors are incredibly proud of their legacy, which is why, by the way, I'm aware of the meaning of 'angel'."

The green alicorn lands behind us.

"How's it going?" I ask. There's no response. After a few seconds, it reaches me: I forgot to turn on the external speaker. "Can you brag about your results?"

"I can't. Most of the space is filled with a deadly concentration of Pink Cloud. It's quite difficult to walk through the streets."

"Shit..." I kick my front foot on the ground. "Okay. We'll have to take our chances. Hopefully, if we do shine in the air, the alicorns will be engaged in some business at that moment instead of looking up at the sky and daydreaming about something."

We did a couple of flying maneuvers, but we remained undetected. Perhaps there are no alicorns around to look out the window.

We move through the streets and alleys with caution, listening to our surroundings, avoiding swarms of Canterlot ghouls and 'pockets' with high concentrations of Pink Cloud. Examining the streets and alleyways allows us to avoid such places much more effectively. Now we don't feel like rats in a maze.

At the moment, we are in the vicinity of a huge store with appliances. The Royal. Its appearance is dominated by golden colors. The tracking chip points to this store. I note that most names in Canterlot are in one way or another associated with something royal.

We approach the store from the front side, wandering through a parking lot dotted with abandoned wagons, various vehicles and... corpses melted into the paving stones, with carts and boxes of goods purchased on the fateful day lying nearby. The location of the melted remains of the inhabitants suggests that they rushed to their personal means of transportation during the disaster, some of them still made it but became one with the transport, others somehow turned into Canterlot ghouls. Much of the parking lot is captive to the pink gas. It's a depressing and gloomy sight, so I shouldn't think about it for long, given the nature of Pink Cloud, which only seeks to break your weakened consciousness in order to take over your body.

Standing in front of the opened entrance, Motley, without turning in my direction, speaks up with the external speaker on.

"Danny, what are we doing here? Is our nest lacking appliances?" she asks rhetorically in a surprisingly cheerful voice, as if she doesn't see the remains of ponies spliced into each other and to the surface in front of her at the entrance.

I understand that the panic during the spread of Pink Cloud caused customers to rush out of the building and create a crush on the exit.

"Do you think the key card could end up here?" she adds more seriously.

I stare at the horrifying mess of flesh and concrete. A grave chill runs down my spine.

"It's still worth checking this place out," I reply, shaking my head. To distract myself, I glance around at the store's lavish and pompous façade with its picturesque ornamentation. "Maybe that very day, the last owner of the key card took it with them when they decided to go shopping for a new toaster. What do you think?" I turn to the green alicorn. She shrugs indifferently. "Unless anyone has any objections, we should check the radio frequency."

I carefully make my way through the mess at the entrance, bypassing the deserted guard post, and enter a spacious hall filled with racks and display cases of appliances mottling with price tags and brand names. The dim, pinkish light coming in from outside isn't enough to make out the names. The chip appears to be pointing to the space below me or above me. I look up. There's some sort of working loudspeaker under the ceiling, and with noticeable protection against vandalism and magical interference. I have a terrible realization... In stores like this, especially the larger ones, there was constantly calming music playing in the background. Two dozen radio broadcasting devices hung from the ceiling throughout the store. At the moment, I understand they were all tuned to the Canterlot radio frequency.

Looking at the devices, I feel myself sinking into the marble floor of the store. Becoming a part of it—like those unfortunate Pink Cloud victims at the entrance. I shake from the rush of emotion and sit down on my rump.

"And why should I be so lucky?"

My gaze drops to the Canterlot ghouls standing between the racks just below the speakers. Motley and Surgeon slowly approach me from behind.

"We'll have to find the service rooms and shut down the entire speaker system."

"Why?" Surgeon asks.

"Because all the ghouls inside the store are piling up under those working speakers, making it hard to tell if any of the dead guys have the key card. The speakers need to be turned off."

"Can't you just use telekinesis to do it?" Motley asks, looking up at the broadcasting device above us.

"I'm not Twilight Sparkle to do such complicated magic."

Both Motley and I turn our heads to the winged unicorn at the same time.

"What?"

There's a look of incomprehension on her face.

"You've been here longer than us. Maybe you know how to bypass the defenses on devices like this?"

She shakes her head guiltily.

That's about what I expected. If she'd known how the spells were cast, she'd have told me right away. Every hour brings new challenges.

The entrance to the service and technical rooms is not far away, and there is another difficulty waiting for us—all entrances and exits are securely sealed, including the windows.

Oh, for crying out loud! Everything is protected by a dense layer of steel: it's impossible to break through. That's too strong a defense. Why didn't the whole store get one? Maybe they didn't have the budget.

"Pre-war ponies were obsessed with defense," Surgeon says, looking at the plaque to the right of the sealed door. It bears the Royal's mascot in the form of a white mechanical pony with a golden crown, like Vault Boy: outlining the basic rules of safety in brief phrases.

"Well," Motley shrugs, "that was the time. Corporations worried about their secrets."

I walk up to the plaque, standing next to Surgeon, and try to look for a mention of enhanced office security. And I find, "All sorts of nasty types will sooner or later want to steal important information about us, but don't worry! The offices are equipped with state-of-the-art security, and if it is activated, everything is sealed up tight. Even teleportation is blocked by its magic! Only the owner and the head of security can override it."

"Fuck this store," I groan, walking over to the security control console. Trouble doesn't walk alone. Every minute a new problem is discovered. It's starting to piss me off already.

I use magic to remove the front panel. My eyes glaze over and my body feels paralyzed. As if nothing had happened, I gently put the panel back on and turn to the others without saying a word.

"What happened?" Motley wonders.

"I'd better not touch anything inside there. It's too tricky magical lock."

"Well... You did manage to bypass the magic lock in Red Spark... The Crater, at that weapons factory. It slipped my mind what it was called."

"Yeah, the New-some-whatever..." I wave my front leg in the air, trying to remember the second part of the name. "Uh," I wave that same leg, "forget it. That factory was itself synonymous with a secure fortress: robots on and such. There was no need for excessive defense there. Waste of time. But here..." I look more closely at the ceilings, "no combat robots or turrets... probably. Either way, I don't want to risk raising a noise in the whole neighborhood with gunfire."

"So what do we do?"

"Search for..." I hesitate. Some kind of realization comes over me, which makes me chuckle suppressedly and shake my head. Surgeon and Motley look over at me. "We'll be looking for a key card."

A sepulchral silence ensues. Motley chuckles suppressedly. Surgeon stares at her with confusion.

"Exactly," I agree, keeping my eyes on Surgeon. She focuses her gaze on me. "The slot in the panel kind of implies that we need a... key card to override the defenses. Yes, yes. To find one key card, we need to find another. Some sort of absurd."

***

We are unlikely to find the owner of the store, so we need to find the head of security. There was no sign of them in the parking lot among the remains and ghouls, nor in the mess at the entrance—though it's hard to distinguish between this horrible, grotesque mess of flesh and inanimate matter. One can only hope they are among those who were inside the store during the general chaos, trying to calm the crowd.

I warn Motley and Surgeon to avoid flying into the air as they risk being affected by the radios that are under the ceiling. Surgeon and I synchronize our magical reserves. Just in case—not to mention that having access to so much magic makes me more confident, like a lifeline. We move between the racks of toasters toward the nearest group of ghouls...

Fatal mistake. We completely forgot to check the neighboring lines so as not to get within their detection radius. In an instant, we become the most desirable product for all the store's customers, as if a ninety-five percent discount had been placed on us.

"Run!" I shout to the others. "We can't let them surround us!"

We gallop forward, preparing to repel the attack of the first Canterlot ghouls. I hope we don't attract the attention of the bored ghouls outside. Motley puts her tail and Pushy on alert, the Surgeon's horn flickering. I draw my sword and activate it—blue sparks run along the sturdy and sharp blade. A crowd of five ghouls run toward us in a ferocious rush, snarling loudly and opening their jaws wide. Lifeless pupils with a silver glow stare into the void in front of them. It's a chilling sight, especially in the dim light, when the glow stands out against the background of their barely distinguishable silhouettes.

Surgeon uses a shockwave of magic against the ghouls in front, and they fall to the marble floor with a thud. The wave causes the teapots on the racks to shake significantly, some of them falling sideways or to the floor. The horn of the alicorn flickers steadily with green light, and the bodies of the ghouls are shrouded in a haze of the same color. She holds them up with telekinesis. Motley and I do our next maneuver: we run up to them and try to decapitate them. Dark pink blood and bits of ghouls fly around, littering nearby teapots and racks as another crowd approaches us from behind. They get dangerously close to us when we're just finishing up with the first customers. We manage to sneak out just in time and run on.

"There's no shortage of customers."

We run out into the center passage, crossing the rows of racks in the center. Hordes of Canterlot ghouls are coming at us from all sides. Three dozen of them. Such a horrible sight brings back memories in me of that nightmare when I accidentally raised the alarm in the jewelry store and dozens of ghouls chased us... No, I won't let the memories paralyze me. I'm not alone! There are three of us!

"Four."

Physically, we are one.

There's only a couple of ghouls in the line across from us, but there's a whole bunch of ghouls coming at us from the other sides. If we fly up in the air, we'll be in radio range. The logical thing to do is to keep running, which I do; Motley and Surgeon follow me.

The store floor is filled with the clatter of hooves. We run like rats in a maze... but there's plenty of room to spread out. We choose the direction with the fewest ghouls. Always looking for a gap in the crowd around us. The ghouls chase us relentlessly. Because of our frequent and sudden changes of direction, and also because of their clumsiness, they easily collide with each other, fall and stumble. Looping back and forth, they scatter around the store and no longer represent an impenetrable whirlwind of death.

The fun is marred by the fact that at this rate we will eventually exhaust ourselves, while they remain vigorous, energetic and restless predators. Hopefully, by this time we will have managed to kill off all the ghouls.

To deal with the ghouls, we work with the same methodology: Surgeon knocks the customers who are mad from the big discount off their hooves with a shock wave, keeps them on the floor with telekinesis so that they don't kick, and Motley and I run up to them and try to decapitate them. Some of them we don't have time to kill because of the approaching crowd, but we deal with them later when they get in the way again. We're already running in circles at some point.

Surgeon's telekinesis strength is impressive, it's a good thing she's the one immobilizing ghouls with magic. On the other hand... logically, she should be the one doing the... surgeries, not us. But she doesn't have a cutting or sharp object, and she never found anything in Canterlot that was effective against the ghouls. Everything she had was always broken and damaged. No wonder... with such a strong and assertive telekinesis, anything can easily break.

Sometimes situations can be quite tricky: I want to use long-range weapons badly... but I can't. It's too loud, and we'll make things worse and attract Canterlot ghouls outside or, even worse, alicorns. It's a miracle we get out of these situations. Luck is still on our side.

The pink blood and bits and pieces keep decorating the surroundings. There are fewer and fewer ghouls. Some of them shorten the distance between us by climbing over the racks, and some of them get stuck in a comical pose. If possible, we cut off their heads too... I feel like a bloody executioner from the Middle Ages.

We pass by rows partly filled with household appliances: washing machines, vacuum cleaners, TVs, radios, refrigerators, stoves, kettles and so on. Sometimes we run through the same places several times. The chasers often stumble over dead and decapitated fellows, which is undoubtedly to our advantage.

I don't immediately notice a dead pony in a pink dress from a nearby row climbing over the rack toward us, pushing and knocking over the colorful irons beneath it. I turn toward it, but the unicorn is already leaping at me, sinking its teeth into my armor at the base of my neck and knocking me off my hooves. With its strong jaw and teeth, it bites through my armor, reaching down to my skin. I lose concentration over my sword and fail to see exactly where it fell. It's out of reach now. Instead of searching for it, I focus my magic on the attacking customer and try to grab it with my telekinesis.

How does Surgeon manage to hold several ghouls at once at a decent distance? I wouldn't be surprised if one telekinesis would be enough to snap a ghoul's neck or rip its head off, just give her time.

At least I manage to unclench my client's mouth and move it away from my armor. The armor keeps its teeth from digging deep into my skin. I struggle to hold it and try to push it off, but my legs are tired from running. Suddenly it wheezes, and dark pink blood drips onto the lenses of my helmet. Its whole body goes into random spasms. A moment more, and the ghoul's head flies off its shoulders, slamming against my helmet before landing on the marble floor. Soon the rest of the body in the pink dress collapses in my telekinesis, and I throw it off of me. All of my armor, cloak, and bags are covered in pink blood.

Tiredly, I wipe the lenses of my helmet and look around: ghouls are approaching from both ends of the row, Motley is killing the last customer closest to us. Then I see Surgeon. Her horn shimmers, and the bloody sword with blue sparks running across its blade floats in a green haze in front of me. Remnants of pink blood drip from it, and a faint smile graces the Surgeon's lips.

"Good sword," she praises. "If I had a sword as sharp as that, I wouldn't have to use spells..." she looks around and sees the ghouls approaching. They surround us. "We've been here for a while. Time to teleport us out of here."

I nod. Surgeon calls out to Motley and she runs over to us, getting ready to teleport. I focus on the spell using the Surgeon's magical reserves and concentrate on the image of one of the store locations we visited earlier. Beyond the building I'm not teleporting us anyway.

I'm ready to cast the spell, but suddenly I hear a ghoul climbing up a rack behind me... and that's when I make a mistake; I get distracted. The spell has already been cast.

Fuck!

***

I rise to my feet and look around. Pinkish light falls through the broken windows on the decapitated ghouls; pools of blood strewn across the expensive marble floor, bloody merchandise fallen from the racks... I'm not far from the windows. What a mess we left behind.

I use telekinesis to reach for my sword, but I realize with horror that I don't have it with me. It was left with Surgeon at the moment of teleportation. I'm practically unarmed!

"Okay, Daniel. Pull yourself together. We don't need to worry right now."

But two more lives depend on me!

"Remember, no one forced them to follow us and they can take care of themselves, especially Surgeon. She's been in this kind of environment for over a month."

Where did I teleport them to? My spell couldn't have thrown them far. If teleportation isn't used properly, teleported objects can end up anywhere within a certain radius. I hope I didn't teleport them into an object... or the surface of the store.

In my mind I picture the horrible images of Motley and Surgeon's mutilated bodies becoming part of the marble floor or racks. By an effort of will, I manage to push these images away.

I must find the others. But what do I do? I have no melee weapons. I can't fight the ghouls in close combat with just my hooves. I turn my head back: my gaze lingers on the rifle hanging at my side. Illumination. It's slightly stained with dark pink blood. A powerful energy-magic weapon that I can't use or I'll get in trouble. I want to pick it up.

"You can't."

Fuck! Fine. I'll only use it in an emergency.

"Find something around you to help you fight off the remaining ghouls."

I frantically survey the dimly lit surroundings. My eyes glide over everything in sight, and then I fix my gaze on a special stand on a rack. Above that rack is a sign that reads, 'Frying Pans'. On the gold-colored stand, a gilded frying pan with inlaid gems in a snow-white handle rests majestically.

As I get closer, I see that it is a special limited edition enchanted pan, virtually impossible to scratch or damage. 'Golden Squash'. The second word has many definitions... and almost all of them mean to turn something into mush. It's as if pre-war marketers knew that in the future, someone would use pans as a means of bashing heads together, making a mushy mess of brains.

The frying pan is made of several metal alloys that transfer heat well, and it involves magical spells of resistance to physical damage. I've used similar spells on my gear, but here they're much more powerful and constantly fueled by the gems in the pan's handle. Judging by the price tag, it's worth about five local refrigerators. There's only one skillet left. What a way to sell such absurd things for the sake of prestige and status. I magically pick it up and feel the magical energy flow inside it.

"Did your Lady Luck literally just throw you a lifesaver?"

It's possible. Well... at least I'll have something to fight off the Canterlot ghouls with. Who knows, maybe I'll take it with me. After all, it's got gems in it, so I could sell it for good caps or keep it as a keepsake.

"By some strange coincidence, you teleported to the frying pan rack."

Apparently, I've formed a special bond with frying pans in this world.

Time to go find the others. Green alicorn's telepathy doesn't work at this distance, Surgeon won't contact me unless she's teleported right next to me. What about Motley?

Fuck my horn! The radio! How could I have forgotten about it?

"Motley, come in. How do you read?"

"I hear good."

She's breathing hard, but she's alive.

"I'm fighting off from the ghouls.

"Where?"

"Kitchen stoves."

"Be right there."

I rush to the center passage, in order to move from there to the row where kitchen stoves are sold, and immediately encounter a Canterlot ghoul... I shouldn't have hurried. I have to fight him off with the Golden Squash pan. Hard hit, vibrating sound, the ghoul falls to the floor. Before it realizes what's happened and gets to its hooves, I use this opportunity to escape.

I don't take a few steps before two customers come at me at once. I wait for one of them to attack me first. The yellow-dressed Canterlot ghoul is closest to me, so it takes the lead. I dodge its jump, and it whistles past and smacks its face against the rack of vacuum cleaners behind me, shuddering at the sudden encounter. At that moment, a second unicorn in a sleek black outfit arrives. Its horn flickers dangerously red; fortunately, it is at my side before it can instinctively form its spell, often used in life. I strike with all my might with the frying pan at his head and knock him off his hooves.

I don't linger over each of Pink Cloud's victims, dodging them is enough for me. I give it my best shot, trying to use my agility and maneuverability skills. I'm as far from Motley's level as the moon, but it's still enough to dodge the clumsy dead. On the other hand, they have more stamina than I do because of Pink Cloud's magic, and with me so tired from running around with the Mojave Desert in my mouth, they soon catch up to me. I have to slow down and fight them back, but that's not the problem—more and more of them are gathering. But there was a spoonful of honey in the barrel of shit: I recognize a ghoul in a store guard's uniform among the ones following me. Maybe it's the one we're looking for, but I can't fight it now. It's not alone, I'd be eaten to death. I'm gonna need help.

Motley's search doesn't last long and painfully, within minutes I see her emerge from a row of kitchen stoves. Spotting me, she cheers, using the internal radio of our helmets.

"Late..." She quiets down, apparently seeing the crowd behind me. "Is that a... frying pan? Are you at it again?"

"The sword was left with Surgeon," I excuse myself, keeping up my pace. "And help me get rid of them!" I add, ending up beside her.

I knock some of the ghouls down with my frying pan, while Motley takes care of the others. While she's dealing with them, I continue to stun my part of the ghouls with the frying pan, and then she helps decapitate and finish them off. Having finally calmed down Pink Cloud's victims, I go to search the head of the guard.

"Your frying pan is useless," Motley says as I search the dead body.

"It's better than being beaten with naked enthusiasm."

"What's the horn for?"

"Don't want to waste magic. Speaking of magic. We need to find Surgeon."

Searching the head of security is not a pleasant endeavor. Nevertheless, I am successful: I find the very key card for unlocking the office and service areas. With a sweet sense of joy I show it to Motley.

"Jackpot!"

Barely perceptible flashes of green light illuminate the store's hall; they are accompanied by muffled rumbles of thunder. Luckily, the alicorns' magic lightning spell was more moderate in volume than natural lightning. But it was also weaker in strength. If she's using them, she's not handling them. Surgeon needs help.

***

As we run toward the source of the green flashes and muffled rumbles of lightning, I notice that almost all of the ghouls in the store have been killed at this point. Disabling the broadcasting devices in the store is still necessary to find out if there is the Dome keycard inside the store.

In the TV section, the green alicorn is fighting... with someone. I'm not sure what it is, but I think it's a ghoul, judging by its clumsy movements. However, this ghoul's movements are noticeably better coordinated and more precise. He is clad in gilded armor that completely covers his body, face, mane and tail. Such unusual armor leads me to believe that he was a warrior, and a skilled one at that.

There's no one else around. The blasts of green lightning reach the enemy, but only disorient it for a brief moment, and it rushes at the alicorn again. The blows of my shock sword are unable to penetrate his remarkably strong gilded armor. It's the only one she fights... which raises one question in me.

Why can't Surgeon immobilize it with telekinesis?

"It's a royal guard," Motley explains over the radio, watching the fight, during which inevitably TVs are knocked over and damaged on stands and racks. "Their armor has protective spells, including immunity to hostile telekinesis."

"Maybe we should help her after all. It doesn't look like it's coming easily to her."

Sword ringing, Surgeon attempts a sword strike to the neck, but to no avail.

"The sword can't penetrate the armor..." Motley runs into the fight. "What are you going to do with your pan?"

Feeling offended, I rotate the expensive limited edition Golden Squash pan in front of me, and then return my attention to what's happening. Motley uses Pushy to strike the guard's temple. The force of the blow is enough to knock it off his hooves. It crashes loudly against a rack, knocking over several TVs.

If I had a bigger frying pan, I could nail that ghoul like a fly.

"You wouldn't find a frying pan like that, first of all, and second of all, you'd never lift it."

Motley beats the ghoul's head furiously and intensely with Pushy. The head is illuminated by halos of blue light. The violent sight makes me a little uneasy. Note to self—do not, under any circumstances, anger Motley. The flashes stop, but the ghoul is still fighting back. She's only damaged its gilded helmet, and the charge in Pushy is already depleted. She backs away from it abstractedly.

"Well... shit," Motley glances at her energy-magic knuckle.

I get goosebumps running from Surgeon's coolness in the fight. I'm even a little envious. The surrounding Pink Cloud doesn't affect the psyche of alicorns as much as it does mere mortals like Motley and me.

"Distract it," she says to Motley.

"No problem."

The green alicorn disappears from sight behind the rack while I watch with delight as Motley dodges the ghoul's attacks with all her grace and ease. It's a lovely sight. From somewhere comes a shrill sound like the roar of a motorcycle, its intensity increasing and decreasing. It comes from where Surgeon had disappeared behind the rack. Motley is distracted for a while and turns at the sound, and then continues her 'dancing' to attract the guard's attention.

"Now this will be more fun," the pegasus exclaims.

There's an excitement and cheerfulness in her voice that I'm so curious about. What did Surgeon pull out there?

Finally she comes into my field of vision. Near her, emitting a faint growl, a gray chainsaw hovers in a green haze. The chainsaw roars. There's a smirk on the green alicorn's lips and an unquenchable desire in her eyes to put the thing into action and put Pink Cloud's victim down once and for all.

"You can stand back, Motley."

Surgeon runs at the guard with such a determined attitude as if there is nothing and no one else between them. She levitates the chainsaw right at its head as the guard pounces on her. The shrill rumble of metal carving is quickly replaced by a nasty squelching sound as the guard's head is covered in dark pink blood and debris all around it, especially the green winged unicorn. A moment more, and the Canterlot ghoul collapses onto the marble floor. It wouldn't move again. A puddle of thick pink blood slowly spreads beneath it.

I stare at this bloody mess and I don't know how to react. Was that... impressive? I step closer to Surgeon and look at the menacing gray chainsaw. Made by Ash Will Company. The bloodied face of the alicorn, from which dark pink blood drips onto the floor, slowly turns in my direction with undisguised fascination. She pauses for a moment and says, "Groovy."

The helmet I'm wearing keeps my jaw from dropping in surprise and awe. The large pony's appearance in the form of a winged unicorn, the menace of the Wasteland, now looks even more impressive and merciless, as if it's saying, "If you get in the way, I'll split you in two."

"Have you found the key card yet?" she asks innocently.

Such a stark contrast makes me stunned. It takes me ten seconds to come to my senses; the menacing and intimidating image doesn't leave my head. I nod gently, as if afraid of provoking her righteous anger.

"Good."

She politely returns my sword to me. Without taking my eyes off the big pony, I pick it up using telekinesis and clumsily try to put it back into its scabbard. It succeeds on the third attempt.

"Now it's no longer needed..." she casts an admiring and worshiping glance at her new toy.

I get jealous and want to trade with her. But I shrug it off: after all, she'll handle it more efficiently. Her telekinesis is much stronger and more stable than mine.

Cutting flesh is literally in her blood... A surgeon, after all. It's a good thing we had a friendly chat beforehand. Otherwise I would have been uncomfortable being in her company. That thought helps me calm my worry and get busy examining the 'unfortunate' victim of the merciless chainsaw.

"Is this, in your opinion, an unfortunate victim? So, the other ghouls were euthanized?"

I walk over to the body with nothing left of its head.

"I hope," the pegasus begins with a worried tone, "you're not going to fix us up with this thing?"

"I'll think about it." A silence hangs in the air. I can hear behind me the dark pink blood slowly dripping from the green pony's fur onto the marble floor. "It all depends on the circumstances. Suddenly someone will need to quickly amputate a horn or... wings..."

Her voice oozes gloating and unhealthy obsession. I feel cold inside, as if Death itself is breathing its icy afterlife breath down the back of my neck. Pink Cloud twists any emotional strain you have to the limit. I can't stand it and turn to her.

"Please... don't joke around like that..." I beg. She laughs serenely. "Given the nature of local dreams, I'm bound to have nightmares about this if I have to stay in Canterlot another night."

I return to studying the body of the guard. The gilded armor looks impressively luxurious and robust. It is entangled in a variety of relief patterns that would take a long time to study. I suspect there are powerful anti-wear spells in place. I touch my leg to it, and even through my boots I can feel the magical energy bubbling in it.

"What's that on it?"

"Royal armor," Surgeon replies.

My protection spells are a foal's cry compared to the ones cast on it. I notice the pockets for storing items. With telekinesis, I start checking their contents.

"Is that supposed to tell me something?"

"Yes," she says.

From the sounds of it, she shakes off the blood and gore. Motley replaces the battery in her energy-magic knuckle, and I examine this work of of engineering and magic. Unfortunately, the armor can't be removed, it's fused to its wearer.

"Armor like this is packed full of enchantments. Royal guards. They didn't skimp on it."

"How do you know about them?"

"Before my sisters came along, guards with such armor flooded the Castle and Ministry Walk. For a long time they guarded the greatest secrets of the pre-war world."

"The alicorns outnumbered everyone?" I ask.

"Almost all of them, as you can see. Nightseer was able to unite my sisters against them, before that, without the Mother's guidance, they couldn't deal not only with the ghouls, but with themselves."

"I remember... you said this Nightseer was of the old school, but how was she able to attract other rebel alicorns to her?"

"Freedom."

"Freedom?" I look away and turn to Surgeon, waiting for more details.

"The eccentric and manic behavior of this oldest sister had me wondering about her origins. A raider, perhaps. Freedom meant that she didn't care about her younger sisters' behavior, she was on her own, but because of her resilient nature she was able to calm them down. They would come to her for help, but at the same time she didn't force them to do anything, she didn't lecture them... like parents... like Mother. And that's the way she trained them, which makes it hard to negotiate with them."

"Just like with raiders."

She nods sadly. I go back to examining the contents of the guard's gear. There's nothing useful except for three holotapes and a photo of a smiling unicorn. As I examine the photo, I hear a heavy and sad sigh behind me.

"Confronting the other sisters... They are my kin. No matter how they behave, I can't hurt them..."

I turn to Surgeon and place my front leg on her shoulder.

"I hope we don't have to," I say. Her lips are pressed tightly together, her gaze full of inconsolable pain.

"...but they could."

***

As we head toward the service rooms, we see the picturesque mess we left behind: the bloody and decapitated bodies of Canterlot ghouls. It's unpleasant and sickening to look at, especially because of Pink Cloud's psychological pressure. Too much blood, albeit a slightly different color. We need something to distract us. Motley and Surgeon are silent, immersed in their own thoughts, preferring to ignore the surroundings.

"Guys, while we're walking, do either of you want to listen to the holotapes found on that guard's body?"

"Why not?"

"We could."

The holotapes are labeled '5', '6' and '13'. I start playback with the fifth.

The recording has the slightly husky and gruff voice of a stallion. There is an underlying sense of anxiety and worry in his voice. I'm inclined to assume he was that killed royal guard. I doubt he'd keep someone else's holotapes in his bags for nothing.

"Two weeks, relative order has been maintained. The pink gas still hasn't managed to penetrate the lower rooms of the castle, but it's only a matter of time. Everyone's nerves are on edge, some can't stand it and run outside, while others are slowly losing their minds."

A long, fear-filled sigh follows. It is clear from his voice that it is hard for him to keep his composure in such a hopeless situation: after all, he might have loved ones, family and friends outside. A long pause occurs.

"Fighting the nightmares gets harder every day. The experienced, experienced guards are holding their own, but I can see that even they are having a hard time, let alone the civilians. We've tried again to find safe routes of escape, but to no avail. None of the survivors have teleportation over these distances, and no one's come for us. No reinforcements. Looks like the zebras did it... the zebras have done it... The world is...".

"Nut, don't think about it," stallion's voice interrupts his monologue. Interesting name. "There definitely must be survivors. The cowardly chikens... uh, the pegasi behind the clouds so definitely should. Better look for positive thoughts."

"You're right. Hm... We've taken note that the concentration of pink gas differs markedly from place to place. Maybe that will tell us something? We need to look into the matter."

As I suspected, some of Canterlot's population still managed to survive and hold out for a while in safe places. The flip side of the coin was that they became hostages. They had only delayed their deaths... And prolonged their suffering.

Okay... Not to think of their fate. Thoughts of other strangers' suffering will undoubtedly affect me, Pink Cloud will store those pre-death memories and use them against me.

I turn on the next numbered tape. Nut suppresses the coughing that occurs with each wheezy breath. Apparently he's been in dense clusters of Pink Cloud.

"The penetration of pink gas is affected by the density of the material and the presence of any protective spells when the rooms were compared. Hopefully this information will help them survive. They...", Nut breaks into a violent cough, causing him to pause for a long moment. He tries to speak faster so he doesn't get interrupted by the coughing. He is definitely having trouble speaking. "I can't stand it. My wife's fate has haunted me, terrifying dreams have visited me. They forced me to leave the other survivors behind, and I... left. Looked for a path with less concentration of pink shit. The enchanted royal armor keeps it out, but not completely... and only in places where there's a small concentration. The skin in contact with the armor burns and the lungs melt... The healing potions I found in one of the rooms keep me alive. I'm dead and won't last long... but I'll fight to the end. I survived Baltimare, and I'll survive here... at least for a while, until the healing potions run out." Nut falls silent. A muffled rustle could be heard. "Misty, your smile... has helped me in times of trouble, and it's helping me calm down even now."

He seemed to have gotten that picture out; he fell silent again. Only his hoarse and heavy breathing could be heard, interrupted by painful coughs.

I pull out that two-hundred-year-old photograph for the sake of interest, too, and examine it more closely. The snow-white unicorn smiles warmly and gently against the snow-capped mountains, her silver-colored mane and tail waving in the wind. The peaceful look in her pink eyes along with her sweet smile warms me and drives away my anxiety, and I almost forget where I am.

The voice on the recording returns. I have no doubt Nut was experiencing the same thing as he stares at his wife's picture in silence. For the sake of comfort. A smile like that would encourage and uplift anyone.

"Baltimare. After its liberation I decided to leave the army, fighting on foreign soil was not something I wanted to do. I'm a defender of Equestria, not a conqueror... I was hoping to join the King's Guard. My military service was appreciated there. One day I visited a beautiful park. The best decision of my life. There you were inspired and painted. Completely captivated by the creative process... but what captured me the most was your smile while you were doing it. I couldn't resist and walked over. The conversation lengthened. A person with a rich imagination had a lot to say, and I loved it. You came to the same place regularly... and I, finding out about it, kept you company. Best days of my life. Remembering them kept me going... Huh? What? Is that thing still on?"

The recording goes off.

He had a purpose that kept him strong, gave him encouragement, kept him from giving up. He thought so much about his beloved that he forgot to turn off the tape and spoke aloud to himself.

"How sweet..." the pegasus says. "Are you going to miss me too, remembering me to lift your spirits?"

Surgeon lets out a chuckle. I catch up to Motley and show her the photo in the blue haze of my telekinesis.

"Only if you keep that same warm and gentle smile."

"Awww..." she lets out a sigh of emotion. "Well, you know... it's hard for me to compete with a smile like that. However, I'm pretty sure she doesn't know how to move smoothly and gracefully! I'll definitely beat her in that regard!"

I want to respond to her joking parry with dignity, but Surgeon beats me to it, taking away the opportunity. Curiously though, she can make jokes about blood obsession, and do it well, but in interpersonal relationships... In that area, humor is something she is completely ignorant of.

"I beg your pardon, but are you starting an argument?" she asks excitedly.

"Motley and I are just messing around."

An awkward and prolonged "Oooooh" comes from Surgeon. I giggle lightheartedly, Motley follows me. Watching an alicorn misunderstand is a pleasure, and I can't help myself.

"Don't be afraid. If there is a fight, you will know about it, for I will not be left alive."

I defiantly turn my head toward the pegasus, who in turn turns toward me. She giggles sweetly. Something sharp scratches against the surface of my helmet.

"You're right as always, dear."

Her menacing and expressive tone could rival the recent prank of Surgeon herself.

The scorpion sting disappears behind the pegasus, and she herself turns her head forward. I can't hold back a satisfied smile. How I love it when she plays along with my silly jokes... It feels so good. I want to grab her in a hug, but I decide that would be inappropriate and uncomfortable while walking, so I abandon the idea.

On such a positive note, I don't feel like listening to the last holotape. Motley, Surgeon and I understand how his journey ended then: he went mad, lost his mind, like the other survivors and travelers in Canterlot. This may spoil our barely lifted spirits. Nevertheless, I'm turning on the tape. See if there's any information that might be of use to us.

A loud, heartbreaking cough. In its absence I hear the hoarse breathing and speech of a possessed crazy pony, occasionally interrupted by a wrenching maniacal laugh. Only in a few moments does one feel a lumen of sanity.

"Zebras, zebras, zebras, zebras, zebras! Slaughter them all! Those things are everywhere! They've taken over the city. These... bastards deserve to die. I'll revel in their misery by sawing them to pieces! It is my duty to kill them all... to banish them from the lands of my country! Canterlot must be cleansed of this striped infestation! I... I shouldn't do this, I'm too cruel and—I LIKE IT! Misty wasn't home, she'd gone to the store... or the zebras probably kidnapped her or killed her by writing a note... but I will have my revenge. The goddamn bastards will be brought to justice! BLOOD FOR BLOOD, BITCHES!"

The madness finally consumed him, just as we expected. No one said a word after hearing the monologue of the zebra-obsessed ex-military pony. I shouldn't have turned on the holotape. It didn't contain any useful information, only recognized the basis of his madness, its essence. Nut had fought in Baltimare, trying to take the city back from the zebras, three years before the apocalypse. It's not hard to guess that with the unexplained effects of Pink Cloud, he started seeing zebras. Or maybe it was self-induced: perhaps he couldn't control the fact that he was killing his own. He had to imagine that they were the sworn enemies of his beloved country, but he had—not without the help of Pink Cloud—lost control of his self-perception and believed his own fantasy.

From what he heard, it was clear why the royal guard was in the store. Nut first went to check his house, hoping to find his wife, but found only a note. It is unknown if the artist Misty reached the store or had already left it at the time of the end of the world. There are countless stories like this in Canterlot, and Pink Cloud keeps all the dying memories of its victims... patiently waiting for new ones, making them feel the reverberations of that suffering, and in their dreams, revealing them to their fullest potential.

The last holotape has affected us in such a way that we walk to the entrance of the offices in complete silence. I look up reflectively and then look around absent-mindedly, and I feel a tightening fear that is almost immediately replaced by relief as a frightening realization dawns on me: we are unimaginably lucky that the Canterlot ghouls in the Royal appliance store didn't have PipBucks with the kill frequency turned on. They're rare, but I'm grateful for the luck of not having them here.

I use the key card found on the guard's body. We hold our breath. An audible warning is heard—not too loud, thankfully—and within ten seconds the impenetrable blockade of rooms is lifted. The doors kindly swing inward, and a strong gust of air rushes in. Before us is the impenetrable darkness that once engulfed the personnel inside. The lanterns illuminate the horror that was going on inside: skeletons are displayed in unusual places and unnatural poses, the walls are covered with bloody inscriptions and ritual signs. It's all frightening.

I want to leave this place desecrated by absurd cruelty as soon as possible—but I can't. The overwhelming experience does not allow me to control myself, I am unable to deviate from my predetermined goal of shutting off the speaker system. My body desperately grasps at it like a lifeline thrown to me in a pit, it doesn't want to pay attention to the fact that its walls are made up of nibbled bones and skulls... I walk through the hallways as if in a fog, hardly noticing anything and unable to remember anything properly.

The cruelty of the raiders is repulsive and disgusting, nauseating, but the surroundings are no comparison. The bloody inscriptions inspire in me an oppressive fear of... something unknown and incomprehensible. In the name of what was all this abomination and cruelty glorified? An aura of misery, of mercilessness hangs around, seemingly suffocating.

There are signs of cannibalism and glorification of pain and suffering everywhere. Inscriptions with unknown symbols on the walls testify to the level of madness that has consumed those trapped here—or my shocked brain doesn't want to make sense of what is written. There is little resemblance to office and staff space here... Office furniture has been made into pedestals for sacrifice and feasting, office supplies have been turned into instruments of ritual murder and unthinkable rites. Bones have been used to create sickening garments. Everything is made for unimaginably gruesome ceremonies.

We make our way through this nightmare and reach the switch, shutting down all the broadcasting devices in the hall. We have to go back the other way. The walk through the horrible corridors will have to be done again.

I gather my thoughts with my other me only after I leave this hell. Not me, not Surgeon, not Motley... none of us bring it up. The horror we saw was so impressive that the tragedy on the outside seems appealing.

The others go outside, and I have the guts to linger in the store and check the tracking chip tags. Finding no hint of the key card I'm looking for, I happily leave The Royal and take a deep sigh of relief.

Surgeon looks sullen and incredibly silent, I get the impression she's not breathing at all. Motley... when she sees me, she throws herself into my embrace. I don't hear her crying, but I realize immediately how scared she is by what she's seen in the staff quarters.

What have we come to? How far can we sink in a burst of all-consuming madness while trapped? Now Pink Cloud has a new image of what to push my sanity with.

I am afraid to ask Surgeon if she has seen similar horrors anywhere else in Canterlot. It seems to me that words are unnecessary. I can tell from her mournful look that she has seen it, which makes me feel even worse. There are no limits to violence.

***

It's almost impossible to find a relatively safe place to rest, as Canterlot ghouls and deadly clusters of Pink Cloud increase in number. We've been wandering for an hour. We want to catch our breath... in every sense of the word. The horror we've seen can't get out of our heads so easily. The images of the nightmare that happened to the imprisoned personnel are too much pressure on the mind, preventing us from thinking soberly and judiciously.

We turn into one of the courtyards, as the alley ahead is shrouded in dense clusters of Pink Cloud. As we cross the courtyard, I note that there is not even a hint of decoration like a garden, flowerbeds, stone sculptures or furniture. It's a modest backyard, which is unusual for the residents of Canterlot, with their manner of flaunting originality and refinement of taste.

On the faded white wall of a neighboring house quite high above the ground is an inscription in familiar handwriting in multicolored letters, "Roof blown off? Build the next floor!". The Professor's former assistant was having a good time, I see. Meaningless phrases are his specialty.

We listen to the doors of the house and try to identify the ghouls behind them by the unusual sounds of empty houses. As usual, I can't rely on Pip-Boy's compass, which is still flashing phantom marks. No radios are observed in this location, but perhaps here we'll do a house inspection, and thus distract ourselves from what we've seen in the store's service rooms.

No one is heard inside. I knock on the door just in case. No answer. I knock again, but louder and more insistent. Again no response. There must be no strangers here. Trying to open the door, I realize it's locked, and I pick the lock with magic of... Surgeon. I have to use magic picking, as the lock turns out to be technologically advanced and with various engineering trickery. It takes some fiddling with, but eventually I bypass the defense mechanisms and the additional anti-assault system. I gently push the door: with reluctance and disdain for the disturbed peace, it creaks tiredly and nastily. We step cautiously inside.

Surgeon goes to explore the basement, I stroll through the first floor, and Motley conquers the second.

The owner, judging by the interior, liked simplicity and practicality, unlike most Canterlot residents. No wonder why the backyard of the house seemed so out of place to me. Inside, there was no elegant and expensive furniture with ornate patterns from famous brands. Simple and unpretentious tables, dressers, mirrors.

The house is decorated with paintings depicting robots in various subjects. All the works are by the same author. Many of the robots depicted are tangibly reminiscent of pre-war models. The inaccuracy of their appearance suggests that the artist first embodied the images on the canvas, and then the engineers drew inspiration from there when developing their robots. Of course, not forgetting to make them more practical than they are on the canvas. Nevertheless, I can't help but notice that the robots on the canvases were unimaginably detailed. The artist enjoyed drawing the armor: it is possible that the artist was fantasizing about the shape of technology in the future.

The occupant of this house loved robots.

One of the paintings really gets me. It shows a robot looking at a beautiful butterfly with a mesmerized gaze. The robot bears a striking resemblance to our friend Caroline. It's not hard to guess what the designers and constructors of her body were inspired by. The painting is signed 'The Living Inanimate' by the same Eugene Maximus. Only now the thought pops into my head that this isn't exactly a standard name for a pony. Perhaps he wasn't—or perhaps it was a nickname.

As I look around the living room, I notice something unusual in the corner under the ceiling. It's so small and inconspicuous that it didn't immediately catch my attention. Moving closer, I examine it.

A surveillance camera.

Some government buildings, various stores and public places had them. This is the first time I've seen one in a private home. Yes and a first glance is enough to determine its technologically advanced nature. I walk into the kitchen and, in addition to the novelties of home appliances, I discover a second camera... and again, not immediately. I peer closely into every corner, and soon find security cameras there. They are too small and compact, making them hard to spot.

Looking for cameras, I soon find motion sensors by the windows. I find cameras in the rest of the rooms as well as sensors. I check the front and back doors—they also have these sensors on them. Either the occupant of this house was paranoid, or...

My heart sinks into a void.

Screwdriver up my ass! We miraculously managed to get into the house with the alarm system off! That's a goddamn gift of luck.

Motion sensors have been spotted throughout the house. They appear to be functional. Motley looks at me eloquently when I inform her that the house is equipped with a high-tech alarm system; she's silent for a few moments, then exhales convulsively, "How lucky we are!". The alicorn simply shrugs at this news. She certainly understands the threat of a working alarm system, but clearly treats it differently than we did after what we saw in the dream.

It's lucky we didn't get caught... It took me a few minutes to come to terms with this horrific realization. We got to the paranoid engineer's house. Took a fucking breath, yeah.

On the second floor, the owner's technological nature is much more pronounced. It turns out the owner wasn't so much an engineer as a programmer. Almost all of the upper rooms, with the exception of a small bedroom, are stacked with various computer consoles and calculating equipment. Everything is in a disconnected state, of course.

There are no lethal concentrations of Pink Cloud anywhere in this house except the basement and a few rooms.

What caught our eye the most was the desk with the high-tech terminal. Or rather, the remains of an earth pony sitting behind it. A bottle of very strong alcohol, a dusty black-and-white photograph of several ponies, a holotape, and the most recent issue of a newspaper with a headline mentioning the likely closing of the clouds by pegasi; under the chair lay a bullet casing and a Magnum. The skull is crushed by the gunshot.

It is unlikely that the suicide occurred before the apocalypse, as curious neighbors would have come to see the gunshot. On the other hand, the kitchen is stocked with food—or rather, what's left of it after contact with Pink Cloud. We can only assume that this earth pony took their own life around the time of the global apocalypse.

I'm looking at the picture. Four earth ponies. It's hard to tell whose remains are at this table. It's odd, though, considering there's only one bed in the house. I power up the terminal and find nothing of substance in it. Folders with various projects, judging by which he worked with companies and corporations building bunkers. The owner of this house was the programming officer for the various computer systems in them, specifically the robotic security systems.

From the terminal, we can cut off all the alarms in the house, but they've already been turned off—probably by the unfortunate stallion himself.

All that's left is to play the tape. It shows the stallion's nervous and slightly frightened voice. He was anxious about something he couldn't be proud of.

"I leave this to myself for a reminder. Don't forget why you went for it. The scum deserved it, he robbed you of your family! You know he was only doing his duty, as all officers do, by using tricks and persuasion to lure the ponies into the fucking meat grinder. The robots will win for us, let them get more funding for them and our citizens won't have to die! But everyone takes the easy option. Get as much meat in there as possible... meat. Ugh. I hate to say it myself, the way they treat the soldiers!

That colonel and his pegasus family deserved to die at least as well for not sending his offspring to war. What a bitch... he's happy to send other ponies and children to the front, but he keeps his own away from there! With inspired tricks and sneaky manipulations he forced your entire family to the front, telling them about duty, taking advantage of their gullibility and feelings. He didn't fool you... but the rest of the family... they wouldn't hear of the new methods of warfare. They say it's cowardly and dishonorable, they even hate science and progress, believing it takes away jobs and... Relations with them are ruined because of a smooth-talking colonel!

Their deaths at the front... was the last straw of hatred. Always turn it on when your conscience weighs you down. Don't be cowardly. We avenge not only our own family... but for other ponies. You can't ask for money or property by trickery or breach of trust because it's fraud, but you can use those same methods to drag someone into a war and sacrifice their lives, right? Is this an implication that the lives of common ponies are worthless? YOU HYPOCRITICAL BITCHES! I HATE YOU!".

He shuts up. A nervous sigh follows, brimming with anger.

"So much time has passed already and still no one suspects that the cost reduction is not due to their optimization. It's all done in such a way... so that the bunker's security system goes bad and the robots start shooting everyone. That's definitely going to happen... when the bombs fall. You'll see. That bitch in uniform and his family won't stay safe in his bunker. He wants to resign. I won't let him run away from the war. Family for family, you bastard!".

The holotape turns off.

An unimaginable contrast between what he'd heard a few hours ago from the guard Nut and this programmer's speech. Nut was proud of defending his country, while the programmer hated the military—in particular, the colonel who, with sweet speeches, had pressured the gullibility of the programmer's family members into going to war. All in all, this... it does look like a scam. I don't know if this colonel didn't care about the feelings of ordinary soldiers just to follow orders and think nothing of it, appealing to their sense of duty with his lofty speeches, but if so... then it's really a scam.

However, this is a complicated issue. The programmer at the time couldn't stand the responsibility for others' lives, but clearly loved his family... who probably despised him for trying to make life more comfortable and easier with robots and science.

I'll allow myself a little bias. I've been trying to make others' lives easier with technology since I was a kid, but most of them are superstitious and see them as evil and a threat—I've always felt resentful and annoyed because of it. I can understand the programmer's feelings about his... family, but he still loved them, and that too is worthy of respect. However, his action...

My thoughts were interrupted by Motley.

"Colonel... the pegasus family... the bunker... the security system that shot all the inhabitants... Daniel!" she gasps. "Oh, it's Heavenly Harbor!"

I gaze at the yellow faceted pupils of her helmet with mixed feelings. After a few seconds, I manage to pull myself together and look at that statement a little more soberly.

"Wait," I lift my front leg. "It's probably a coincidence. This programmer," I point to the remains of the earth pony with a nod of my head, "has been making programs for the security system of many bunkers. It could just be a coincidence."

"It doesn't seem like it."

"Explain?"

"Pegasi rarely hid in bunkers underground or in a mountain. It's safer for them to stay high in the clouds than underground, and bunkers won't protect them from a direct hit. Heavenly Harbor is located in a place where it's pointless to drop bombs. So. I doubt there's still a pegasus bunker in Equestria with a former colonel in it, where the underground quakes from the megaspells caused the turrets and robots to go into a 'rage'."

"You know... your words make sense. There are too many coincidences. It turns out that the negligence in the design of the Heavenly Harbor security system is not. It was done... on purpose. I'll have to tell Berry sometime—she told me about the cheapness of the components used that caused the security system to malfunction."

I must admit that this programmer had extraordinary skills, since he was able to foresee what would happen if he used cheaper materials for the security system. And the company or firm that builds the bunker will only benefit from it.

Well, good old capitalism...

"Money rules the world, both here and here on Earth."

I chuckle at the realization that we were lucky enough to stumble upon this house and learn the true cause of the death of the original inhabitants of Heavenly Harbor.

Having almost forgotten about the store thanks to this news, we eat lunch and explain to Surgeon about the bunker and how things are going in it now.

***

Just down a wide street with elegant stone buildings on either side, beyond the clusters of Pink Cloud, the elevated view of Ministry Walk, fronted by a pre-war monument to Celestia in the form of a white spire with two wings, is perfect. The Walk is as close as ever. No Canterlot ghouls are visible up ahead—the alicorns have already dealt with them, I understand. Searching through the ruins in Canterlot has turned up nothing. Well, we'll have to go to that hornet's nest.

"Well?" I turn to my companions, turning first to Motley and then to Surgeon. My gaze settles on Ministry Walk, beyond which rises the most important castle in Equestria. "We've spent too much time in the ruins. If we don't find the key card there, we'll have to head back to Heavenly Harbor. I've been longing for a quality and safe vacation."

"Surely the crystal sword is in there somewhere?" the green alicorn voices up.

"You're doing just fine without it," Motley quips, nodding toward the gray Ash Will chainsaw.

"And yet... my connection to it still feels... I feel like if I have it, my past will be at least a little bit clearer... I've been there, but not in the castle garden. The alicorns avoided it because of the high cluster of Pink Cloud."

"We'll look for the ghoul-griffon, there should be your sword nearby..."

Muffled pops from the direction of the castle cause me to fall silent in surprise. We all fall silent at once, looking at the sight that has appeared before us. The entire castle and the Walk are filled with multi-colored flashes accompanied by pops of varying intensity. Pompous fireworks were the last thing I expected to see in Canterlot...

"...but I remembered the Gala we put on in Sierra Madre. But it seemed harmless and insignificant against the backdrop of what was happening now."

The space above the castle and Ministry Walk flashes with bright colors for about a minute, and then there is a sepulchral silence. There are a hundred questions in my head, swirling around my mind like flies, preventing me from concentrating on anything. Motley speaks up, quieting them and bringing them to my attention.

"In terms of execution, the work is eight out of ten points," my pyrotechnics expert says in the voice of a picky critic. "Standard pyrotechnic techniques were used... no creativity."

"What the-" I try to find the words. "Who in all of Equestria would want to trigger something like that?"

"We're about to find out," the pegasus utters, heading up the wide stone-paved street.