“Here at Robronco we take pride in our hand finished, high quality, genuine equestrian automatons. No shoddy zebra clankers around here.”

We pressed on, with me pertinently ignoring Roulette’s looks at me, following the rails until we hit a small branch that veered off into an imposing building.

The large sign declared it ‘Ironshod Firearms Distribution Centre’ with a little plate below the sign stating ‘Where do you want them apples?’.

The rails passed under an arch and into a loading facility, an old train sat in the bay, derailed and listing to the side, cargo crates spilling from it’s body. We weren’t the first ponies to have come through here, the multitude of empty crates and boxes were testament to 200 years of scavenging, but Roulette was insistent that the warehouse interior was untouched. We crept through the loading bay, clinging to cover as we followed the red maned mare’s directions. While my E. F. S. was showing no red pips, I knew I couldn’t rely purely on it’s friend-or-foe matrix and so kept my eyes and ears open as we picked our way to the main building.

Reaching the rear of the bay I stared at the blank wall that faced us. There was no entrance across its wide expanse, in fact it looked like all cargo was loaded out of the roof of the building by crane. Roulette was undeterred though, feeling her way along the steel skin of the warehouse until she let out a little ‘aha!’ and called us over.

“Here we are,” she said, pointing to a mark on the wall.

Upon closer inspection, it was a keyhole. Rummaging in her coat she retrieved an odd square key on a chain that she twisted, folding out a strip of the metal. Jamming it into the lock she was rewarded with a click and with a flick of a hoof a second click was obtained. The lock suddenly revealed a square of wall that slid aside, exposing a terminal that was still active, bathing us in the green glow of its screen.

“Do you have the password?” Neon Dream asked, poking his head over the shoulder of our trader companion.

“Nope!” she replied enthusiastically, twisting her head and licking the pegasus’ snout “any guesses?”

Having snapped back, flustered, the bright green buck stammered. “uhhh, n-n-no. Err, maybe, p-password?”

I sighed, “Neon Dream, there’s no way the password is going to be...”

“We’re in!”

I stared at Roulette and could only offer a flat ‘what’ as the terminal chirped and a doorway was revealed with a second keyhole in it. Retrieving the key she unlocked the new door and pulled it open, ushering us inside.

Before us was a massive, cavernous space. Across the empty dias of the cargo elevator were row upon row upon row of shelving, all holding crates marked with the Ironshod Firearms logo. They stretched up to the ceiling and off into the distance.

“Luna’s great wet and winking nethers!” cursed Roulette in awe.

“Don’t do that.” I felt the words leave my mouth before I could even consider not saying them. I could feel my face flushing as red as our companions mane as the mare slowly turned her head to look at me.

“You a bit of a prude there Operative?” she asked, “Or is it the subject?” her eyebrows raised up her face and waggled, “are you some kind of Selenite?”

I opened and closed my mouth, but no sound came out. It wasn’t that, it, it was just that the Princess Luna was our commander-in-chief. Yes, she commanded a certain level of respect.

“What if I was talking about Celestia’s taut sunbutt?”

To my, shame? Embarassment? It did not illicit the same reaction. My face must have shown my thoughts because Roulette barked out a laugh.

“You are a Selenite.” The laugh was reduced to a chuckle, “good to know.”

I frowned, what was this all about?

Oh ye of the night shift,

Beneath Luna’s gaze,

Wrapped in her protection,

Offer your praise.

I was thinking in poems now? I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. This was not the mission.

“Where do we need to check?” I asked, “is there a supervisors office?”

Roulette nodded, pointing to a little cabin hanging from the wall up near the ceiling, a criss-crossing web of catwalks and rails leading up to it. I nodded, trying to trace a path that would keep us hidden from any security. Roulette would stay at the entrance until we gave the all clear.

I turned to Neon Dream, “I need you to get a bit higher, give me an idea of layout and if you can see any security.” He nodded and prepared to spring into the air when I quickly put a hoof on his shoulder, “don’t go too high, we don’t know if there’s turrets or anything else that’ll track flyers.”

His eye widened and he gave a little gulp before springing into the air and sailing up to the walkways to find a spot. I watched as he took a look around and waved a hoof at me, nodding. Taking that as a positive I trotted forward, still trying to keep to some kind of cover as I pressed my way to the stairs, trying to step slowly and carefully to muffle the ‘ting, ting, ting’ of my hooves in the metal. One level up Neon Dream fluttered down beside me,

“I can see a couple of robots on the floor, between the shelves,” he said, drawing a look of concern onto my face, “b-but they look switched off, they’re not doing anything.”

My eyes narrowed, this seemed very convenient, a tingle in the back of my head had me thinking of traps. We pushed on, cautiously, with Neon Dream flying up a level and taking a look before waving me on. We reached the supervisor’s office a lot slower than we probably could have, but there was no sign of security.

“So,” my pegasus companion asked as I walked up to him, “what’s a Selenite?”

I paused, working my mouth to explain, but no answer was forthcoming. Something else lost to the hole in my mind.

Bit of a cult that revered Princess Luna as a goddess. Not that they didn’t consider both princesses goddesses, but definitely Luna got their worship.

“They revere Princess Luna,” I said, summarising my rogue thoughts

Neon Dream clicked his head to the side quizzically, his mane falling away to reveal his often hidden eye, “why ‘Selenite’ then, why not something ‘Luna’?” he asked, a small grin creeping across his muzzle, “Lunatics maybe?”

I rolled my eyes, putting the question to my thoughts,

Selene is an old term for Luna’s moon. Helped when they had to keep low after Nightmare Moon.

I nodded, that made some sort of sense.

“Its from an old term for Luna’s moon, to obfuscate them after Nightmare Moon.”

In an effort to end the conversation I walked over to the door and grabbed the handle in my teeth, trying to open the door.

The door was locked. I cursed under my breath and turned to Neon Dream, “go back down to Roulette, get the key.”

He snapped off a quick salute and took flight, leaving me alone on the walkway. I was tense, it felt like there were threats lurking in the shadows just out of sight, even if the security seemed disabled.

I heard a gunshot.

It had the strange delayed reverb of a twin linked battle saddle and the only battle saddle wielder we had used an energy weapon. Had someone followed us, also seeking the spoils of this place? The shot came again, followed by the low buzzing noise of Neon Dream’s magical energy rifle. I pulled Resolve from its holster, slightly cursing my distance from the fight.

There was a thunder of hooves and a slamming of a door and from my vantage point I could spot the bright green of Neon Dream and Roulette’s shock of red mane. The two came charging up the network of catwalks, hooves ringing on the metal gantries.

“What happened?”

Roulette looked away sheepishly, “I, uhhh, may have gotten bored. And tried to see if there was any salvage left in those trains outside,” she tapped her forehooves together nervously, “I may have woken some ferals.”

I turned to look at Neon Dream with a pang of concern, his visible eye was a little distant, “Neon Dream?” I asked, he started as my voice pulled him back to reality.

“Ah! I-I’m sorry. I tried to cover Roulette and get us back inside.”

I nodded, and turned back to the merchant, about to ask for the key when I noticed the twin barrels of some kind of double rifle poking out from a flap stitched into the back of her jacket, and the firing bit by her mouth. Did she somehow have a whole battle saddle rig stored inside that coat? I shook my head, useful to remember, but not what I needed right now.

“Do you still have the key?” I asked, holding out a hoof, she fished it out of a pocket and tossed it over to me. It fit the lock perfectly and let us in to the office.

It was fairly sparse and utilitarian, but somehow a couch had been brought up and placed against the back wall, along with a small fridge that had failed long ago, if the warm bottles of sparkle cola inside were anything to go by. There was a desk with a terminal sat on it against another wall, with large glass windows looking out over the warehouse floor. A chart on the wall tracked dispatches and orders.

There was no body in this office, no bones, the supervisor must not have been in on the Last Day. I looked at the glowing screen of the terminal, hoping it had been left unlocked. Unfortunately, I was not that lucky. With a sigh I booted up the terminal into the BIOS and began trying to root around in the code for a suitable password. Three tries, back out, three tries, back out, I gave a frustrated growl, feeling a deep need to shove my hoof through the glowing monitor, and there was a small cough behind me. I turned to see my companions staring at me.

“try ‘choochoo’” Roulette suggested, a grin tickling the corner of her mouth upwards.

I narrowed my eyes at her, but, out of ideas, returned to the terminal and tried her suggestion. The terminal unlocked. My head snapped back around to look at her.

She held up the supervisor key that I didn’t remember giving back, “it was written on the tag.”

I blinked; I had seen ‘choochoo’ in the sprawl of code but had dismissed it as random nonsense. The was a chime from the terminal and a window popped up stating ‘Welcome back Steam Whistle’. A pony named Steam Whistle had ‘choochoo’ as their password. Civilian ponies had too much time on their hooves.

There were a couple of sections available on the terminal; messages, notes, security, manifests. I checked the security heading and was informed that warehouse security had been disabled as part of a facility wide security shutdown under the authorisation code ‘Braeburn_Says_So’. Our luck must be changing I thought.

The messages section brought me to a chain of messages between Steam Whistle and a Braeburn Apple. I looked at the batch dated a few days before the end;

To: Braeburn.Apple

From: Steam.Whistle

Subject: Mistaken Unit

Got an odd one for ya boss. Received that shipment of security Ponytrons from Robronco, but we’re down one. Some kinda mixup at the shipping facility, we’ve been sent something quite different.

Supervisor Whistle

-

From: Braeburn.Apple

To: Steam.Whistle

Subject: RE:Mistaken Unit

This better be a good different. Ah’ve spent good bits on this security, we don’ want any more zebra spies trying to steal muh designs.

Breaburn Apple

CEO Ironshod Firearms

How do you like them apples?

-

From: Steam.Whistle

To: Braeburn.Apple

Subject: RE:RE: Mistaken Unit

Oh yeah boss, the mixup means we’ve gon and got one ah these new urban pacification bots. Says ‘Silverpone’ on the manifest. There’s a holotape with it, but the documentation calls that the start-up tape and I didn’t wanna start it up without ya sayin so.

Might void the warranty, or returns policy or somethin.

Supervisor Whistle

-

Braeburn had never replied, and I spotted the tape on the desk in front of the terminal. I gave a shrug, misplaced robots was not a concern to us at the moment, though it would probably make some salvager’s day. I pulled up the manifests section and turned my head to look at Roulette who had been peeking over my shoulder,

“I imagine this is what you’re interested in?”

She nodded and scooped me out of the way, hooves tapping away at the keyboard as she looked through reports of deliveries and dispatches and storage plans. I instead walked over to Neon Dream who was staring out of the windows, looking down on the warehouse floor.

“Are you alright?” I asked the green pegasus,

“y-yeah,” he replied, still staring, “just, thinking, I guess.”

I was about to press the matter when we were interrupted by Roulette from the terminal.

“Oh wow!”

I turned back to the terminal to see Roulette tapping keys, moving through a file. “what is it?” I asked, trotting over and noticing the tape was gone from the desk, “Roulette?”

“look at the specs on this thing,” she gestured at the terminal, “high calibre autorifles, underslung multilaunchers, manipulater, and this was for riot control?”

I blinked, “what?”

Roulette was pointing at the top of the screen, where I could see that ‘Silverpone’ as Whistle had called it, was two words and an acronym. Silver stood for ‘Supervisor Independent Logic Variable Engagement Robot’ and Pone was ‘Public Order National Enforcer’. I rolled my eyes at the clear backronym nature of the name, marketing ponies hard at work. Though, as Roulette had said, the name implied domestic riot control, why would it be so heavily armed for that purpose? My pondering was halted by Roulette’s squeak and frantic typing. Code was scrolling across the screen at breakneck speed, even when she removed her hooves from the keyboard.

“ummm,” she began, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly, “it’s, ah, booting up. Sorry.”

I glared at the cream earth pony, “did you read the part about that being the ‘start up’ tape?” I asked, sighing as she shook her head.

The text stopped scrolling, leaving a final message on the terminal, ‘default mode: aggressive, Whitelist: not found, beginning patrol.’

We heard a splintering of wood and joined Neon Dream in looking out of the big windows of the office, watching as something fought its way out of a wooden crate. The robot did indeed look like a shining silver pony in shape, though instead of a mane it had a metal fin adorning its head, and the tail seemed to be some kind of segmented tendril. Its eyes seemed to be one large lens that looked almost like it was wearing an eye mask or sunglasses. The lens, with its fly like compound facets, glowed orange as its head swept around the warehouse. It suddenly looked up, staring at the three of us in the office before the sides of its barrel slid open, deploying large guns from each opening. The guns pivoted up as it aimed for me and my companions.

A loud ‘click’ of empty chambers echoed around the warehouse.

It looked like Robronco had declined to ship the robot fully stocked with ammunition. I breathed a sigh of relief while the Silverpone continued to stare up at us, stowing the guns back inside its body. The lens remained pointed at us.

“M-maybe we can go around it?” Neon Dream suggested gulping as the robot stared up at us.

“I hope we can,” I started, turning to look at Roulette, “what did you need from the...”

“What’s it doing?” the green pegasus interrupted me, pointing a hoof at the robot, whose lens had turned red.

The lens seemed to grow slightly as it slid forward from its housing before splitting in the middle, the two halves sliding apart to sit either side of the face, revealing a dark void where it had been. A dark void that was soon filled by some kind of round lens in a square housing. I could hear a buzzing noise growing louder as the new lens started to glow. My eyes widened as I connected the dots.

“RUN!”

I dashed towards the door, grabbing Roulette by the collar of her jacket as I passed her, dragging her along by my teeth. The buzzing grew louder as I reached the door, spinning around and bucking it hard to slam it open.

The buzzing reached its peak as a column of glowing red energy spilled out of the robot’s face, melting the window and sending the glowing liquid flowing down to the warehouse floor. The beam continued, burning through the office and out the other side, dissipating as it scorched the far wall and roof.

I had leapt from the open door, diving to the catwalk dragging our employer with me as Neon Dream took to the sky. The heat of the molten metal and glass bathed my back and I could still hear the buzzing of the magical energy weapon in my ears.

Why, in every level of tartarus, did a riot control robot need an energy cannon for a face? There would be no getting around this robot, we needed to stop it. Maybe we could shut it down? I glanced back at the office, the terminal, and the table it was in, were gone. I grimaced, disable or destroy were going to be the only ways to get past this robot.

Which was going to be difficult with a 10mm pistol.

“Neon Dream? Can you take a shot at it?” I called up to the fluttering pegasus. I could almost hear him gulp, but he did deploy the beam sniper rig, the barrel sliding forward and the scope rotating over his eye.

He fired at the robot’s head, the eye lens closing back up as he took aim. The beam lanced out with its own buzzing noise and struck the Silverpone in the head, the silver coating proving to be more than an aesthetic choice as the beam scattered off the polished silver. It still heated the robot’s hull, but most of the damage was deflected.

“That ain’t good” trust Roulette to summarise the situation. I turned my head to her,

“Can you take a shot at it?” I asked,

She gave a shrug and turned to the robot, eyeballing the aim and biting on to the trigger bit, firing the two rifles that emerged from the back of her jacket. That double shot rang out and a pair of small dents appeared just above the eye lens. She was a decent shot with that battle saddle, just a pity that the robot’s hull was strong enough that she couldn’t penetrate it. I tried to think, run through our options when the robot walked over to one of the crates and whipped its tail around, punching a hole in the side.

The tail withdrew, displaying a grasping claw on the end of it, holding a belt of ammunition. Another hatch opened on its back and it fed the belt in, giving out an ominous click as the rounds fed into the guns. I didn’t need to say anything as the three of us split up, running, or in Neon Dream’s case flying, in different directions, hooves hammering on the catwalks as the Silverpone opened up, rounds sparking off the metal as it tried to track us.

I wound my way around the side of the building, descending a few levels as I tried to catch sight of the robot, which seemed to be tracking Roulette as the greater threat. I spotted the flash of her red mane diving down one of the aisles of crates, bullets sparking off of the shelving frames as the Silverpone walked after her. It couldn’t have grabbed many rounds from that crate, I figured, so I dropped back down to ground level and stuck my head around the shelving. The robot had walked about 2/3s along the aisle when the guns clicked empty.

Having a thought, I drew Resolve from its holster and took aim at the silver pony, trying to draw a bead on the dark void beneath the gun panels. Tonguing the trigger, I sent a round flying along the aisle which let out a spark as it struck the robot, the impact causing it to sway on its legs then turn to face me. I fired a burst of rounds at it, but either missed or had my shots spark off of the burnished armour. Hopefully I could keep it at a distance long enough for one of my companions to take another shot.

The Silverpone had other ideas.

It tilted its head to the side in an imitation of a pony thinking, a move which set all the hairs of my mane twitching before its limbs seemed to stiffen up. It dropped into a slight crouch before there was a click and something deployed from the machine. I wasn’t sure what it was doing until I heard the whine of a motor and the sound of wheels spinning. My eyes widened as the robot suddenly shot across the floor, advancing on me at high speed as it coasted along on wheels that had popped out of the legs. I threw myself back as it passed me, a flash of silver whipping past my face and the cold sting of metal scoring a line of fire across my cheek.

The robot finished its charge and coasted around, turning to face me again. Its tail was up in the air, but this time instead of grasping claws a blade had sprung from the tip of it. I put a hoof to the burning line across my cheek and pulled it back, dark red blood smeared across the underside.

I frowned, at range I didn’t have to power to get through the armour, and at close quarters I might not have the speed to keep my head for too long. I concentrated, pulling my spell up to the surface, I needed to at least force one range of engagement, whether that was severing the guns or the blade.

I don’t know if it was happenstance or some kind of magical sensor, but as I was concentrating, trying to choose which would be the favourable option, the Silverpone charged again, tail lashing out. I acted on instinct, time slowing as I watched the blade plunge towards me. Severing the knife wouldn’t kill its momentum, and it was aimed directly at my head, so I made a leap and ended up doing something I’d never tried before.

The air rippled as I invoked a silent blade, but as a single slash, rather then the usual constricting circle, parrying the plunging knife tail. The strike knocked the tail aside, the wind of its passing stinging my eyes as time caught up with my perception.

Realising I did have an edge made my decision for me, and as the robot begin its turn for its next jousting session I pulsed the silent blade spell, aiming for the ammo feeds and connecting braces of the two guns. The struts it seemed were made of stern stuff, the silent blades biting into them, but not through. The ammunition feeds were another story, and the tracks that would feed rounds out to the guns splintered.

The Silverpone let out a high-pitched whine, then a buzzing noise, the eyelens glowing red as the guns were retracted inside.

The second that lens split I started running, trying to put distance and cover between me and the energy cannon face of the Silverpone. I dove behind a forklift of somesort as I heard the buzzing grow behind me, pressing myself to the floor as the top of the vehicle ceased to exist. There was a groaning noise from the shelves and I peeked out from my protective barrier. A large circular void was left at the bottom of the stack I had been behind, and I could see the robot through it. I could also see the rest of the shelves above sagging, so lashed out with my telekinesis, giving the crumbling shelves a little push in the right direction.

The supports buckled and fell, dumping crates of ammunition down onto the silver robot, crashing to the ground with an overwhelming cacophony. Followed by an overwhelming scream,

“Stop trashing the merchandise!”

Roulette was peeking around the end of the stack, glaring at me. With a flutter of wings Neon Dream landed next to me.

“Did you get it?” he asked, I considered the pile of crates.

“Certainly looks like...” I began, but trailed off when the pile shuddered.

The segmented tail punched out through a crate, with the whole thing shifting up moments later, sliding aside to reveal the Silverpone, looking a little worse for wear, but still active.

There were dents all over the robot’s chassis and a crack across one section of the eyelens, but even as its servos groaned with the effort of pulling itself from the rubble it stood tall and glared at us. I could hear Neon Dream gulp, and I’m pretty sure I did too. But I had an idea.

“Neon Dream, I need you to get airborne and keep a bead on the robot, I think I’ve got a weakpoint for you to exploit.” I looked about the warehouse for something I could use to set this up. My eyes alighted on the cargo lift by the door.

Nodding, I gestured to that direction and Neon Dream took flight as I scooped up Resolve and dashed over to Roulette, keeping an ear turned to listen for the robot.

“Would you stop destroying my stock?”

I rolled my eyes and tucked my pistol into its holster, “You can’t claim it if you’re a pile of ash.” I said, then pointed a hoof towards the door, “I have a plan, get to the elevator controls.”

Roulette snapped off a mock salute and dashed away, leaving me staring at the glowing eye lens of the Silverpone. It had dismounted the debris pile and was walking towards me, though it turned its head to follow Roulette. I pulled Resolve and again used it to draw the robot’s attention, the first round striking the crack in the eye lens, widening it. The robot let out a squeal as it revved its wheels, though it sounded more like a sound of rage to my ears. I dashed to the side, ducking down the next aisle as the Silverpone sped between the shelves. As it reached the end if the stack it canted on its legs, like a skater, and swung around gracefully to face me along this new aisle. It deployed the blade from its tail with an audible ‘snikt’ and held it high, crouching slightly like it was preparing to spring.

Instead, it revved its motors and shot across the floor at me, again I summoned a silent blade, throwing myself to the side as I parried the knife, but this time the tail whipped back around, trying to riposte. With the spell still ‘warm’ I was able to counter again, and then the robot’s speed had carried it out of range. It spun its body, wheels screeching as it slid sideways across the floor, leaving trails of scorched rubber behind while staring directly at me with that eye lens.

I heard the cargo elevator start up and looked over towards the sound, seeing the section of floor rising on a hydraulic piston. The Silverpone revved again, skating towards me in another joust. I charged, galloping towards the robot, silent blade spell charged and held for the right moment. The gap closed, and neither of us were going to swerve, I shifted my body and just before I crashed headlong into the speeding mass of metal I uncoiled like a spring, leaping over the robot and releasing the silent blade, deflecting the first strike from the tail. I wasn’t so lucky for the second attempt and felt a line of heat scored across my flank, splitting the material of my barding and drawing a red line across my cutie mark.

I clattered back to earth on the far side of the robot and kept going, ignoring the pain spreading down my leg as I galloped away. There was another squeal of tyres as the Silverpone turned again to chase me. I could feel its approach and so put on a burst of speed, aiming for the recess in the floor that the elevator occupied. I dove into the gap and heard the tyres shriek as the robot stopped itself from following me face first. I turned back to it, looking at the glowing eye lens before putting that hydraulic piston between us.

It tried to walk around the edge of the recess to get a clear line of sight, but I followed it, keeping the machinery between us. The robot let out an irritated buzzing noise and then descended into the pit, landing on all four hooves with a clang. Manoeuvring around again, I backed up to the edge of the pit, blocking the robot again before turning and scrambling up as I readied my spell.

The Silverpone emerged from behind the machinery, stalking towards me. “Down!” I called, hearing Roulette flip the switch and start the Elevator descending into the pit. The robot looked up at the solid metal plate, then back at me, stalking forward and putting its legs up against the sidewall. There was a clicking noise as the robot’s rear legs extended, stretching the main body up, rolling up the wall on the wheels deployed on its forelegs. The Silverpone’s forelegs slid up out of the pit, catching onto the side as its eye lens followed, that cracked, compound eye peeked up over the edge of the pit, glowing with malice. I triggered the spell.

Silent blades bit into the hydraulic system, severing hoses and cracking tanks. The elevator platform had already been descending, now, after a brief shudder, it suddenly dropped to the floor. The machinery squealed in protest then gave another shriek as it came down on the robot, crumpling around the silver hull even as it crushed the mechanisms inside, pinning it in place.

The head was still active however and glared at me with its glowing red eye. The lens split and began to slide apart, this was our chance.

“Neon Dream.” I called anticipating the bright and buzzing beam of his sniper rifle.

It didn’t come.

I took a step back, “Neon Dream?” where was he?

I kept backing away from the trapped robot, the cannon lens now deployed. I was trapped, I couldn’t get through the mechanisms with Resolve and it could still see me with those compound eyes, and track me if I dodged to the side. The middle however...

The buzzing noise grew louder as the cannon charged and I gave one last shout,

“NEON!”

I dove to the ground as the burning stream of magic spilled from the robot’s face, banking on the centre of its vision being a blind spot in this configuration. If my tail had not already been cur short, I swear I would have lost it to the roiling stream of burning magic that filled the air above my prone form.

The deep buzzing noise was deafening this close to the beam, and I felt the heat the column of magic generated across my back as it melted the door we had come in through. As the beam trailed off, a different buzzing sounded through the air, the higher pitched cry of Neon Dream’s energy sniper rifle.

The beam lanced out from above, striking the Silverpone right in the cannon lens. Still hot from its own attack, the metal around the polished crystal buckled as the high intensity beam of magic energy pierced into the robot’s head. The focusing lens must have fanned out the beam inside the head as there was an acrid smell of melting electronics and the whole back of the robot’s head glowed with heat.

The Silverpone let out a high-pitched squeal as its innards melted, the polished metal head slumping down and crashing to the floor with a ring of metal on concrete. The beast was dead

The green pegasus flapped down beside me as I rose to my hooves, our other companion trotting over from the elevator controls.

“That,” I panted, “was too close for comfort. Where were you?” I asked.

Neon Dream looked about to answer before he spotted something over my shoulder, his eyes going wide and his reply dying in his throat in a choked gasp.

I whirled around, drawing Resolve and slipping into S. A. T. S. There were five ghouls standing in the hole in the wall that had been, until recently, the securely locked door. Their eyes were wide, but their pupils were pinpricks and their mouths hung open, panting like hounds as a growl rose in their throats. This must be what Fallen was talking about, these were ghouls that had survived the Last Day, only to lose their minds sometime in the last 200 years. I queued up shots, one each, in the centre of the head, partially drawing on training, partially drawing on long forgotten horror movies.

The first shot struck true, splitting the feral ghoul’s head like an over ripe melon, stringy black blood and brain matter painting the head of the ghoul next to him. That ghoul wouldn’t have time to appreciate what had happened before his own head split from one of Resolve’s rounds. The third and fourth shots missed but the fifth one struck its target in the eye, the orb popping as the bullet passed through it, tumbling into the snarling pony’s skull.

A downside to the targeting spell was that sometimes it glitched and the slowed time perception continued even as the gun fired. I had the pleasure of watching three ponies heads explode in glorious slow motion, even managing to track the scattered drops of eyeball from the last shot before time snapped back to full speed.

The double crack of Roulette’s battle saddle sounded, taking out one of the ghouls I’d missed and I expected to hear Neon Dream’s rifle too, but instead he simply stared at the ghoul, shaking on his hooves.

I turned back to fire again, but found Resolve just making the tell tale click of an empty magazine. Damn, I was supposed to be counting rounds

Don’t blame me, I thought you had it.

My eyes narrowed, but before the feral ghoul could reach me Roulette’s battle saddle sounded again and the ghoul fell beside the others.

“I think that’s all of them,” she said, voice chirpy as she stowed the battle saddle, “you know, I think that went well.”

I looked at the pile of ghouls by the hole melted in the wall, then back at the wreck of the Silverpone, then at the pile of debris that had been shelves of ammunition.

Turning back to the cream earth pony I fixed her with my best disbelieving stare.

“Well,” she said, sheepishly rubbing at her bouncy mane, “relatively speaking.

Author's Note

Thanks to kkat for creating this crazy mashup and letting others play around in it.
Thanks to Somber too, I may reference things from Project Horizons and Homelands here and there.