Road to the Garden

by Dixdy-Duo

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Adventure, Slice of Life, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 33549

A small story from one postapocaliptic world cursed by prehistoric magic.

Two pony need something from city named Garden. They unexpectedly go wrong way to meet most challenging thing in their life which change their mind forever.

Published 2023-01-10 15:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-01-10 15:30:01 UTC

Road to the Garden

Author's Note

Story still in WIP phase, need to correct many thing that left after translation, like misstypes, specific words and different dialogue forms. ^_^" I'm still in long road to translate my own text, no matter how much I try...

UPD. Well, there more mistakes and incorrect sentences than I think. :(
I think it took more time than I planned. Partial auto translation not as good as could be...

Road to the Garden

Prologue.

"Exodus". "Great Cataclysm". "The fall".

Many names for the same event that took place in the world of Eque more than two centuries ago.

The devastated lands healed their monstrous wounds left by the blade of an inquisitive mind with limitless possibilities. marks left in the hearts of the survivors, were tightened, turning into scars of superstition, scars of traditions and aching customs, throwing them back several centuries.

And yet, in this crippled world, life found its way, like spring water finding its way through stones.

The history began from the beginning, but now there are almost no those who stood at its origins in it.

* * *

There was a beautiful view from the cliff.

The sun, slowly declining towards the horizon, flashed golden fires in the saucers of small lakes. Round, with crumbling banks, they covered the ground in bulk as far as the eye could see. If one were to return looking at them several centuries ago, fireballs bursting above the surface would appear to his gaze, leaving behind smoking funnels and flashes of burning earth mixed with black smoke. Now they splashed the burning sunset light of the water.

Islands of trees, rare and biting into the ground Rooted , furiously wanting revenge on a living being or on the contrary, experiencing unbearable hunger. In the crimson rays of the setting sun, they looked like dark spots. Above them, illuminated by a fiery flash lonely clouds floated, like puffs of white smoke, which rises from a fire of damp logs. Like clouds ... rain was rare in these places.

Dry and lifeless land stretched from end to end, painted in a greenish hue only around forest oases and saucer lakes. And those and others full of drinkable water were dangerous traps for unexpected guests tired of the long journey. And the most dangerous of them all are gray lanes. Carved through rocks, diving into tunnels, ending in ruined bridges over almost dry rivers with the whitening bones of the creatures that once lived in them. Past the dilapidated piers, the skeletons of the intake pipes and rusty pillars. Empty roads made of stone slabs, fitted together just like in that funny wooden box toy. Small pieces with patterns, notches and grooves. All you have to do is put them in the right order, and they will show you a slightly faded picture of places that are not left in the world. For example, a garden. A place where they grew not ugly shriveled fruits, barely fit for food, but some kind of flowers, trees with funny umbrella-like leaves. And in this wonderful place, shown by a toy, no one saw you as food ... or just a living, dangerous piece of magic.

"We need to hurry. It will soon be dark, and near ... these places you can meet "them,"" a hoarse voice was heard behind her, and the filly instinctively pressed her hoof to her chest. There, under a thick windproof jacket, on a drawstring, hung the only item of value to her. Useless to others, but important to herself. "This thing will come in handy for you one day. Save it... as soon as you can ," she was told, handing over a solid crystal plate engraved with outlandish writings. Inside, under a layer of crystal, a metal round was visible. and every time she looked at it, she puzzled over how they had put it there. No seams, no cracks, not even a groove on the plate was visible. Someone placed the record in a frame of roughly bent copper tube, crimping the edges and making a loop. Slightly rubbing her neck with a braided rope, this gift accompanied her everywhere. Like a talisman that drives away trouble. Or maybe vice versa, because if she had told anyone in her native village about this record, it would have been taken away and thrown into one of those deep wells where books, durable boards from seemingly warm material and much more from what was found in the ruins had already gone. . Because it was all magic. And magic, everyone knows, is bad. It was charms and strange books that led the world to the way she sees it in front of her and around her. Yes, magic is bad and therefore no one should know about the tiny piece carefully stored on her chest.

"You're going?" the same hoarse voice was heard already at the bottom of the cliff. The sun has almost set and the moon is barely visible. Even though we are far from the roads, hanging out in front of everyone is still dangerous.

“Now, now, I’ll just take a look again,” hooking a small brace with a loose pipe onto a hoof, she pressed her eye to a worn lining on one of the ends. She pointed the pipe to the side, where the gray roadbed rested on a dark spot. A flimsy, homemade spyglass made the picture blurry around the edges, but left it more or less distinct in the center. Through several convex lenses, cloudy and covered with dust along the edges, in the crosshairs of slightly worn lines that allow one to determine the distance by divisions, one could see the angular skeleton of the ruins, black pins pierced huge rickety slabs connected by bent ribs of beams. The sun protects, the moon protects...

It broke from her chapped and parched lips, disturbing the sharp grains of sand. Fumbling for the crumpled flask at her belt, she took just one sip. Enough to wet your throat. Before the springs, where they can again replenish their water supplies, a few more days of travel and who knows what might happen. She didn't know the meaning of her words. They were said by her parents' parents, and they said them to her every time something very bad happened or could happen. They sounded that day too... and then they were drowned out by the howl of a huge shimmering creature that ate stone, wood and even steel supports. And the night came and everything was quiet. The place where she was born and lived, her home, ceased to exist. On that day, from a broken glass door, the reflection of a frightened, softly sobbing unicorn was looking at her, clutching a record in its hooves as a last resort. And behind the cracked glass, flames burned. Fragments of torn-up crude buildings stuck out. There was an acrid smell of smoke. Her lips in the reflection whispered something then. They repeated the same words as if they were able to save and protect the spell. And then they came... scowling earth ponies in frayed capes. They took her with them. And as they walked, her eyes were covered with a bandage thrown by someone. Darkness and the crunch of something brittle under the hooves, until the stuffy smell of the conflagration was left behind, but forever preserved in her memory.

"Lamella! Get down already, you've been staring at the ruins for an hour now. They won’t get away from us, and we need to have time to find shelter," an energetic voice rang out from the path, turning into steps made of rock fragments created by nature.

"Now... There! An hour away, I see some kind of hole. It looks like a cave, enough to wait out the night and hide the light from the fire,” she replied, feeling the effect of a sip of water rapidly leave her throat, giving way to the withering dusty air. This shelter still had to be reached. And it was better to hurry. Thinking about it, she began to carefully descend the ledge, trying not to drop her priceless spyglass.

* * *

"We're going random. We avoid roads, we avoid open plains, we don’t run the risk of poking ourselves into tunnels, and all because we know very well the fate of the daredevils who decided that the flickering lake was knee-deep for them,” a figure sitting by the fire grunted, stirring with a wooden spoon a stew of dried berries and curved roots. The brew didn't have the most pleasant smell, and the taste was appropriate, but it was better than nothing. The bags lying in the bags of each of the travelers were a valuable reserve in the most extreme case. When in the desert lands it will not be possible to find anything at all, except for musty water in the shade of stones.

"More precisely, we do not know their fate. They simply went into the gap, being led by the self-confident speeches of that crazy person who imagined that everything would be different. Underground cities? Unicorn nonsense…” the second snorted, suddenly halting and looking back towards Lamella. “No offense, okay? You're also one of these... well... don't think about it, right?"

She silently shoved the spoonful of stew into her mouth. Hoovekinesis was not good for her, serving as a constant reason for ridicule from her peers. And now, the bent handle of the spoon was tucked between several loops of the strap around the hoof, trembling slightly and gleaming with silvery metal. And yet she was lucky, in a way. The village where she was taken treated her more simply. It was possible to survive ridicule, but it would be possible to survive with a hemp instead of a horn - that's another question. She met poor fellows from places where the owners of the horn were blamed for everything. Blamed for everything and openly hated. I also saw indescribable grief on the faces of those whose foal was born with a growth on its forehead. Yes. She was definitely lucky, she thought as she pushed another spoonful of the disgusting but nourishing stew into her mouth, feeling it gurgling in her stomach.

Once upon a time, she found a picture book. Shabby leaves in a crumpled cover miraculously avoided falling into a deep mine. On them, a pony like her raised objects with the glow of the tip of a horn. They were funny pictures, because no one she knew was capable of such a thing. Except perhaps that old filly, who lives away from the village, avoided by everyone, but often sharing her wisdom. It was said that she saw with her own eyes how the world became the way it is now. Of course, no one believed her. Even when she scared the foals who climbed into her garden with animated scarecrows. Of course, they moved thanks to the ropes and levers, skillfully hidden by the old mare. How else? After pouring it on the naughty foals and scolding the grinning old woman, everyone came to this conclusion unanimously. It doesn’t matter if there was a glow around the straw scarecrows from boards and branches, or the tomboys lied again.

If only she could do that.

Then there would be no need to climb rotten stairs down into deep wells and look for medicinal mushrooms and medicinal moss there. And it would be easier to carry your belongings. The world can't fall apart from such a harmless thing, can it? Who could be hindered by the ability to let things fly around you by pointing at them with the tip of a horn?

"What are you thinking about? The owner of the hoarse voice, coughing from the smoke, leaned forward and stirred the coals with a charred stick. Tiny sparks rose into the air, dancing and slowly fading into the night air.“ Pay no attention to Pestle, he speaks before he thinks. Sometimes it sucks...

"Hey! She's like us, well, if you don't look at the forehead - an earth pony like everyone else. Well, with an earthpony horn. Convenient, I guess. You can hang something - fix the lantern there or poke someone," the one named Pestle snorted indignantly into his half-empty crumpled bowl. "Am I right?"

“Ughm…” the unicorn nodded, scooping up a new spoon. Among the shriveled berries was a tough, undercooked bean. Before it ends up in the stew, it has already begun to sprout and will certainly be bitter. Bob with a ponytail. With a tail like a horn, and therefore it will be spit out into the fire. For some reason, looking at how he sticks out of the stew in the spoon, she compared him with herself. Life is like a mess. You get into it, boil, and then your taste turns out to be bitter and you need to be thrown out. Sighing, she stuffed the stew into her mouth, wincing at the bitter aftertaste. Let it be. When they brought her, the village also wrinkled. And yet swallowed, accepted her for who she was. The village gave clothes, food, knowledge of how to live with the shadows of a frightening past that come at night in nightmares. Taught to survive in a world full of predatory creatures. Waking up, she always pressed her hoof to the plate hidden under her clothes, which cooled her chest.

“I’ll poke you myself with something, and it won’t be a horn if you screw up such stupidity one more time.” In these places, and without your jokes, everyone becomes uncomfortable. Hub cities and underground ruins are close at hand. Who knows what kind of rubbish is found there now, and here you still have to go through one of them. The elder said, and I agree with him, we will have fewer problems with her. It seems like they are afraid of all sorts of misfortunes. Even where they found it, the Creature bypassed it. And I believe him…” the hoarse one put his licked bowl into a sack, throwing a spoon and an empty pot, rubbed with dry sand and ashes. "And you believe."

“Yes, I do, Hasp. And I’ll believe even more when we finally find this place, pick up whole bags of seeds and other things and go back. Well, we’ll send the news," with these words, the pony glanced warily at his companion, as if he blurted out something superfluous.

Do not count the contents of a chest that has not been found. The omen is bad. Not many people got there, but no one understood why some were lucky, but there was no news from others. Don’t forget how many of us went on the road, and how many are left now,” Hasp pointed instructively towards his partner with a hoof dirty with soot.

"I remember ... there is nothing to remember. Of the entire detachment, a third remained. Three remained in that village, I hope the herbalists will put them on their feet. Who ever told them that pink mushrooms are harmless? Boobies, got drunk with handfuls of them. Two more turned back. As soon as we approached the first gorge, we found that the bridge was gone. The fourth of us…” the pony sniffed, noticing the stern gaze of his partner, and putting a duffel bag under his head, lay down on the ground. "Okay, I understand ... I won't do it again."

The fourth of those who continued on the path made a mistake ...

Second and last in my life. The first was joining the detachment, and the second... a protracted transition through the mountains that grew on the way, as if a giant stuck a shovel into the ground and turned its whole layer sideways. The bridges marked on the battered map have collapsed. Safe watchtowers, left unattended for a long time, acquired creatures that greeted travelers with rustling and squeaking in the darkness of failures. Sunlight prevented them from getting out, which is why hundreds of small purple eyes with helpless malice looked at the travelers from dark cracks all the time while they quickly walked past the rickety buildings. Everyone was thirsty. The dried-up springs poured sand. Hollows in the rocks, riddled by streams, were empty. And when the thirst became unbearable, their partner, uttering a joyful exclamation, rushed towards an inconspicuous niche , in the middle of a miraculously surviving wall. There, in the semi-darkness, a brass thing gleamed faintly. Ripping off the disgusting tough growth with his hooves, he turned the torn off wheel until muddy, shimmering red water flowed from the pipe. The stallion took one greedy sip. Then another one. Ignoring the alarmed shouts, he, choking and coughing, again bit the dirty stream with his teeth. And then he just fell with his muzzle right into the cracked stone bowl. Water poured over his head, flowing down between his ears and down his nose.

Lamella was the first to snatch the valuable vial from her pocket, but Hasp blocked her way, scooped her up in an armful with strong hooves and dragged her away, despite her screams and attempts to escape. And the earthpony lay. Under his fur, a dim glow spread, dark spots highlighting the bones. With every heartbeat, his body was like a paper lantern. A bizarre toy, where they inserted twigs and a candle, getting amusing shadow patterns on the surface. Hasp spoke less than the others. And he knew more than others. They even said that he had already been once long ago where they were going. While the others were confused, he just did it. All the while Hasp dragged her along, she held the vial to her.

When they all ended up on the other side of the gorge, having passed along the dilapidated and creaking rope bridge in the wind, he just as silently cut the decayed ropes behind him and, turning to her, took away the bottle.

It happened five days ago.

“He could have been helped,” the unicorn said aloud, dropping the spoon that was twisted in her belt. What had happened surfaced in her thoughts, clinging to them and awakening an almost dormant sense of guilt and helplessness.

"It is forbidden!" Hasp suddenly barked, alarming the dozing Pestle, who was rubbing his eyes and trying to figure out where the danger had come from. “You would have wasted the potion just like that! The fool drank the reflection of magic! Primal Poison mixed with the legacy of those who wanted to make the world safer! He forgot the main rules! Repeat the main rules, Lamella! Repeat them so that I know that you or Pestle will not repeat his bad mistake!"

The filly swallowed, moving away from the fire in the light, which stood out against the dark background of the night sky, the muzzle of an elderly earth pony twisted with annoyance and indignation.

"Do not drink from pipes - pipes are poison. Do not drink from puddles - they are not born by rain. Do not drink in cities - cities are dangerous. Not drinking from wells is the home of those who fear the light. Do not drink from the lakes - death sleeps in the lakes," closing her eyes and putting a hoof on her chest, she recited the learned rules of the unicorn by heart. “The spring water of the mountains is your friend. Forest water is your friend. The tears of heaven, if you're lucky, are your friends. Only they can be collected in flasks and taken with you."

“At least someone doesn’t have sawdust in their head,” Hasp muttered, and the features of his muzzle softened. "Now sleep, I'll guard at the entrance."

The pony got up and, going up to the unicorn, patted it by the withers. There were tears in her greenish eyes.

"Stop blaming yourself. Blame those who thought they could change the world and never go their way. It leads to nowhere, following the shadows of the past, forced to forever wander along deserted highways from one ghost town to another,” he said quietly before stepping outside.

She silently nodded, wondering involuntarily whether his words referred to any particular Road that literally crossed abandoned and dried-up lands, or all the roads remaining in this world. Fumbling in her bag, she pulled out a rectangle sealed in paper that was crisp but unwilling to get wet. The faded design on it depicted a joyful pony biting off a piece of puff stuff. The contents of the package did not crunch for a long time, turning into powder, but remained tasty if poured into boiling water or directly on the tongue. Last packet. Sighing, she put it back down. When they find the greenhouses, then she will open it, pour it into a cup and, stirring it with clean water, will treat her companions. And maybe they will smile like this pony in the picture.

She zipped up her bag, took one last look at the figure darkening at the mouth of the cave, and curled up on the thin bedding by the fire.

Tomorrow they will continue their journey.

* * *

Everything went wrong.

Plans crumbled right in the hooves.

Lamella ran, feeling tears flowing non-stop on her cheeks, hardly making out where she was running. Miraculously , without tripping over the fragments of boxes lying on the floor and rounding the skeletons of cabinets thrown into the corridor, she ran past the dark failures of the doors, unsuccessfully trying to get the horror of what had happened out of her head.

It was so stupid. This shouldn't have happened at all. They all had to go past that door in the rocks. Look for another way. Lose a few hours to return to the fork. But again and again, before her eyes, a flowing red stream appeared, slowly oozing from under the heavy metal leaf of the round door. The drops swelled in the crack and fell down with a soft splash, gathering in a small puddle on the dusty floor near the threshold. She then stepped back, ceasing to call out the name and pound on the metal surface. A melodious voice came from the ceiling, but Lamella did not hear it. There, in front of her in the opening, only minutes ago stood a smiling Pestle.

“Look what I found at the door!” I wonder what this thing…” were his words as he stepped through the door, waving the thing he had found on the ground on a chain. Similar to her plate, only split along and lost part of the corner. The rattle of the mechanics and now in place of the stallion there was a sash that had collapsed from above, released by the tenacious paws of the stops.

Lamella took a step back, turned and ran away.

“Stop…” came from somewhere behind him.

Her legs trembled, and she took a step, and then completely froze. The outlines of an empty and dusty corridor blurred before her eyes, the rattle of falling metal was still heard in her ears. A vile rattle, at the end of which, as it seemed to her, she heard a short crackle that she would dream of for a long time at night.

“Wait a minute…” a tall figure rushed past, slowing to a halt on the crumbled stone floor. A sharp blow from her hoof burned her cheek, and the unicorn choked on a sob. On the other hand, a worn horseshoe flashed, and she cringed, expecting a new slap in the face, but instead she was enclosed in a strong hug, from which she did not want to break out. "He. Remained. Per. Door. Just stayed out the door, you hear? Pestle on the other side. You can't hear it through the thickness of the steel, you understand?"

“I... I saw... I..."

Scarlet drops slowly collect in a narrow crack and fall viscous into the dust. They slowly merge into one large one and just as slowly fall, raising ripples in the red puddle.

"You thought. There was nothing there. You pounded on the door with your hooves and then ran into the darkness of the corridors. I barely managed to catch up with you," a hoarse voice was heard above her ear. Firm and confident. He really wanted to believe, but...

"Why did he pick up that thing?" With a cry, the pain and tension that had accumulated over the days of the journey burst out of his chest. "Magic is bad! All this is bad! I should have done this earlier..."

Feeling the treasured record under her jacket, she tore it off the lace. Swinging, the unicorn was ready to throw the object into the darkness of the underground passages, but her swing was intercepted by Hasp. Taking the plate away, he peered at it for a long time, allowing the unicorn to move away to the wall and sit down on the crumpled metal box. The translucent plate shimmered dully greenish in his hooves, briefly revealing the blurry symbols beneath its surface.

“I should have thrown her out… I should have thrown her out… I should have thrown me out… why did they leave me with them…” her second cheek was burned just like the first, and the hard edge of the horseshoe rested against her forehead, forcing her to look up. The back of the filly's head hit the rough wall.

"Where did you get that?" Hasp was breathing heavily, still reeling from the chase.

“Parents… they… they were given by their parents… They said it would save me,” she said, swallowing the tears flowing from her nose to her lips.

"Was it on you in your village? Answer! Have you carried this thing with you everywhere?" A hard glare shone in the pony's dark eyes. The earthpony pursed his lips, as if holding back his words.

“Y-yes…” A heavy hoof pushed her, and she hit the wall again, her ears flattening, waiting for another kick. Instead, a strong chain lay around the neck. The lock clicked. "H-hasp? It's because of her... all of them because of her. Only me..."

An accurate and sharp blow to the horn made her gasp and press her hooves to it, bending over and staring with wet eyes at the floor. It was painful, but the panic that gripped her receded from the pain.

“When you were found, many years ago, everything around was torn apart by the claws of the lava mole, but not you and not the room where you were locked up as a foal. Why do you think the old voice came to life as soon as we turned into a dead end? Did the door of the only unstoned passage open just by chance? It was marked on the map as a dead end long before us. And of all, it was you who approached her. I was closer to you. Pestle went further. Damn unicorn, yes, you have the blood of those who ruined the world, but that's why this thing works only for you," Hasp tapped the record dangling around her neck with his hoof. “Maybe it doesn’t work at all without you. Maybe it's useless for me. Unicorn magic and the thing from the ruins - they are made for each other. Do you want to redeem it? Forward... only not into the darkness with our heads bowed, but towards the goal for which we all set off! The village is waiting for food. Waiting for new seeds. You know, they only last a few harvests. They are waiting for a new map of the safe path. And worst of all, they are waiting for news from the suddenly silent village halfway to our goal. And we will get to them. You will be silent, I will speak, and then we will gather supplies and move on. To the gardens marked on the map. For this, I, you and the rest set off"

“But I didn’t make the world like this!!" the tip of the horn poked the earthpony into the winding of its front hoof, slid over the metal plate, and nuzzled its shoulder. "I am as much an earth pony as you are, as they are… I am not the one to be blamed for what happened! I wasn't there then!!"

“Shhh…quiet…” The shrugging pony pushed her against the wall and pressed a hoof to his lips.

“I don’t…” she began, and then trailed off as she felt a hoof wrapped in rags against her muzzle. Something rustled down the hallway. It creaked and shuffled again, as if a piece of wood had been jerkily dragged along the stone slabs.

"Here. At the door, live. And quietly, so that not a sound..." the earthpony hissed into her ear and, pulling her up to the failure of the doorway, roughly pushed her inside. With a jerk , closing the door and scrolling the rusty lever, he pressed his whole body against the steel surface, touched by time. There was a clatter, a rustle and a creak behind the door . Something screeched and clicked like a wind-up cruncher toy capable of crushing hard nuts. The door was scratched from the outside, there was a gentle knock, and they fell silent. As the prolonged silence became frightening, a flurry of blows fell upon the door, beginning as abruptly as it had stopped. A burgundy light flickered through the cracks, seeped in short strips onto the floor, and then faded. The creaking and rustling of wood dragging along the floor faded away, and Hasp, frozen to the side of the door, breathed a sigh of relief.

The unicorn, cowering in fright, lay on a pile of rubble from a bed and a mattress that had become a pile of dirty hay, or something similar to it, just as brittle and stringy. A torn-down nightstand, a dried-out closet with scraps of outfits. There is a broken table against the wall, in which a spear was sticking out. The broken reservoir in its handle gleamed dully in the light of the burning splinter . Holding it with his teeth, Hasp walked around the room and looked into the next one, prudently putting the broken table leg in front of him. It was empty. The floor was littered with scattered papers. Books torn to shreds and shards of glass from an abandoned lantern. Picking it up and discovering that it contained recesses for crystals, and not a vessel with oil and a wick, Hasp angrily threw it into a far corner and returned back. Grabbing a steel shaft with his hoof and helping himself with his teeth, he pulled the weapon out of a crack in the floor, staring in surprise at the blade with two pointed tubes on the sides, sparkling with newness. Whomever the javelin thrower aimed at , he missed and it, having broken through the table , remained stuck in the floor until this day.

"And so it will do..." finally knocking off the fragments of the flask from the steel base, he attached his find to his belt.

“That’s not right… it shouldn’t have happened like that.” We grow plants for food, we sew, we raise foals. This should not happen in the world..." the unicorn whispered softly pressed into the dry and prickly likeness of hay. The tip of the spear swung in her direction, slid down from the noose, and with a quiet clang buried itself on the floor. "We don't know who was at the door. Maybe..."

“What I heard outside the door is wrong. Not promising anything good, judging by the sound. And it's better if I have this thing, and you have yours. The main thing is to leave these corridors. On the way back, we'll find another way. Let it be long, but different. And on the map we will mark this place as unsafe, even if no one else manages to open this passage again,” the earthpony wheezed, trying to hear the sounds behind the wall. The door bulged slightly from the blows, but held firmly in the grooves and on the hinges. Opening it slightly, he carefully slipped a pebble into the slot and threw it, hastily closing the door behind him. The piece of debris clicked loudly on the stone wall and floor several times, but no more rustle reached the earthpony's ears. Apart from his own breathing and the rustle of a filly cautiously walking towards him, there was not a sound in the corridor. Whoever the inhabitants of this place were, they went to the big door. Hasp tried not to imagine what it was that drew them there.

“If I hadn’t come to the door… But I did, and it opened… I…” wailing softly, the unicorn cautiously crept behind Hasp, who put forward a spear attached to the straps on the side. Fragments of boards crunched under their hooves.

“And then someone else would have gotten here, unaware of the danger. Now you understand why the return of the units is welcome, even if they did not manage to find anything. They tell more about places that others should not go to. And you should be quieter so that someone else doesn’t…” the earthpony made a warning gesture and pressed himself against the wall. Something lumbered ahead, casting a shadow in the flickering light of the magic stones. Voices were heard, not always intelligible pronouncing the words:

“Personnel request... to leave the premises. Request to personnel... safety circuit breached... conservation cannot be resumed. Please...please...srrrr... " the voice was heard in the corridors, coming from the oval-rimmed amber stones shimmering in turn. "In case of life-threatening danger , contact ... those ... the nearest combat unit. Be sure to carry an identification card... a staff card or a personal bracelet of a resident... a guest... have a... have a... A violation has been detected in the main hall. A breakdown of the water supply systems has been detected... An attempted intrusion through the main entrance has been detected. Together we will make the world safe... have a nice day... a day... a day..."

“Die,” the pony said gloomily, listening to the silence that had just as suddenly come. And it's not the most pleasant. Come on, we've got to get away from here before those who clicked come back.

At the thought, the unicorn shuddered, remembering the disgusting and frightening sound outside the door. Imagination drew a huge critter, shuffling on the floor and turning the key in the back. Having imagined this, she stubbornly could not get this image out of her head. Every time something slowly stomped in the flickering light, casting long shadows from the open doorways, they pressed into the niches and corners behind the drawers, waiting for everything to be quiet. There was more and more broken furniture. Dust-covered traces of panic could be seen all around. Everything unnecessary lay abandoned and broken. Doors, wide open, led to rooms and small chambers filled with incredible machinery. When a crumpled metal cabinet with a broken display window appeared on their way, Lamella could not resist and stepped closer. Trampled bags lay around him and more. Crumpled juice-smelling tins clinked under her hooves, but a few more intact remained on the slanted shelves inside the cupboard. They and a few more bags with something obviously edible migrated into her bags . For a long time examining the last of the seemingly fragile cans, the filly carefully pulled the tongue sticking out of the lid. A jet hissed into her muzzle, forcing her to close her eyes. Sour-sweet drops hit the tongue and made the fur a little sticky.

"It's not water. It's some kind of juice. Sweet and sour, like red rangpurs… Try it.” Almost dropping the others from her hooves, she handed the unopened jar to Hasp. He twisted it in his hoof and threw it into the gaping gap of the door.

“If you're okay in the next couple of hours, I'll take a chance. But don't do that again in the future... consider it a new rule," he muttered, listening to the distant rumble. Somewhere the wind howled, fading and rising again.

"It's just juice, Hasp," the unicorn said ruefully as she placed the half-empty jar next to the broken device. In the dim light of the magic stones from the metal side, a pony looked at her holding a piece of fruit in its hooves. Winking slyly, he tried to drink juice from it through a straw. On her other finds, other ponies also depicted the pleasure of certain delicacies, but unlike her bag at the bottom of the bag, these pictures were not so faded. She left only one treat in place. A laughing unicorn looked at her from a round jar on the horn of which hung a multi-colored bagel. The worn inscription was undecipherable.

Several hours of travel through the tangled corridors began to lead thoughts to turning back and looking for another way. The apparent daylight actually came from shimmering columns entwined with sun-hungry plants that had climbed out of their tubs and pots in an attempt to reach the water pipes. None of the travelers dared to collect their flasks from the dripping water pipe. Too vivid was the memory of their companion who rushed to the copper faucet and paid for it with their lives. With each new turn , the noise of the wind subsided and reappeared until the ponies found themselves at a huge failure that cut about three floors. The propeller that had come loose from its mountings stuck out like a metal rock, like a huge ax in a giant layer cake, in the midst of a chaos of destruction that exposed a dozen more shafts. Down there, the steadily rotating blades hummed and died away. The wind, which had lost direction, lifted debris from the floor, circled fragments of books, records and other light pieces, knocking them into piles in the corners. And despite the desolation reigning around, someone still lived here. Hasp and Lamella stumbled upon beams thrown across the abyss , with crumpled sheets of iron screwed to them. Flickering lanterns dangled from torn-off railings on crooked pillars, dispelling the darkness as the talking stones in the walls faded away. Fire marks, piles of opened food bags and empty cans were visible in some of the rooms. But for the most part, they were all empty and for a long time. Several passages were littered with debris and reinforced with spears linked together. Those who lived here defended themselves, but apparently it did not help them. Hasp peered into one of the shadowy rooms and turned away. Against the far wall, fragments of bones were barely visible on the floor.

"Hasp?" the unicorn stood in the middle of a flimsy bridge, thrown over to an island from the surviving support and a piece of the floor.

“Now... I’ll check a couple more rooms, wait on the other side,” the pony replied and took a step back. In the distance, quick clicks were heard and subsided, replaced by a rustle that faded from time to time. Around the corner, the noise from the blades died down, and the sounds from the corridor became more audible. Shuffling, screaming and silence again. In the strip of light, a long and thin shadow stretched out, moving in jerks and freezing. And the shadow had something that made Hasp drop the second bag and run with all his hooves towards the bridge.

"Hasp?" a unicorn standing on an island noticed a stallion running towards her, on the move, overturning a part of the spears tied in bundles so that they stick out towards the passage.

"Don't stand still! Run to the other side alive! Run, I tell you, horned one!" the pony shouted hoarsely, with difficulty drawing air into his lungs, clattering his hooves on the staggering tin bridge. Behind him, in clumsy jerks, a lean figure with a tangled mane jumped, under which two eye sockets filled with burgundy light blazed. "Run away!"

Having caught up with the lingering unicorn, looking behind him with eyes open from horror and misunderstanding, he pushed her to the side, sending her to slide along the second bridge leading to the floor below. Convinced that it had rolled to the floor, he spun around and with a single movement cut through the beam supporting the remains of the floor with his spear. The blade screeched, scattered sparks and broke, but along with it, the support buckled, unable to withstand the creature that landed on it. Withered hooves scraped along the tilted surface and the nimble creature, without ceasing to click its jaw, collapsed somewhere down, where a dark haze floated. Several more like her ran out and stopped at the cliff, bumping into overturned spears. Ignoring the pieces of metal stuck in their bodies and the reddish sand from the wounds pouring onto the floor, they wandered along the edge of the collapsed floor, their eyes fixed on the frozen pony. Sucking in air, the creatures snapped their teeth, as if talking to each other. and seem to have lost interest in the chase.

The flames of magic in his eye sockets were extinguished, flowing in a burgundy haze through the tangled strands of his overgrown mane. On the pale skins, the former color was hardly guessed, as well as the color of the manes with tails, from the colorful ones that became pitch black or ash-colorless. The blackened hooves with small scarlet cracks were the same, and the look burning in the black gaps above the slightly open and from time to time clicking jaws.

"Skirrers. Damn... they were all thought to be inventions of wanderers who wanted to frighten the villagers.” Hasp slowly backed down, trying not to lose sight of the eerie, twitching figures as they moved. And each of them had a twisted horn, though some of them were cracked or blunt. Looking closer, he noticed how one of the figures hit the nearest door with its muzzle several times, and then, shaking itself, held out something clamped in its hoof to a crack in the wall nearby. The door swung open, slowly crawling up, and just as sharply fell back. The object fell out of his grip and dangled on a cord around his neck. Broken and scratched plate. Squeaky poked at the door again, and with a few clicks of her jaw, slowly wandered away, leading the others with her. The shuffling and clicking, which had become ominous from what they saw, subsided in the corridor plunged into darkness.

“Infringement… infringement… The Tech Wing requires a higher access level. Access denied. All personnel are advised to leave... leave the premises. A problem has been noted. Failure of air circulation systems. A problem has been noted. Significant losses among combat units. Level of danger... n/a... number of residents... n/a... number of personnel... One. The number of personnel, the launch of error checking systems. Verification completed successfully. One… ” the voice squealed with a mechanical rattle and rolled away somewhere into the depths of the destroyed floors, the passages strewn with rubble and the breached vaults of the tunnels.

"Who were they? Why were they after us?" the unicorn dug its hooves into the bag left on the earthpony and shook it several times. Sighing, he slowly turned to face her. Taking a breath and calming down as much as possible, Hasp opened his eyes and stared at her horn.

“We… we have to leave…” he said dryly and somehow wearily, blinking away the vision of his eyes covered with burgundy magical smoke. It was one thing to hear seemingly stupid stories. Another is to see from afar some emaciated figures without really analyzing the details even through a spyglass. And it was quite different to meet the eyes of those who had long lost their appearance and perhaps life itself, turning into a terrible reminder of the past.

"But your bag. There was food and water left, we need to get up..." Lamella broke off when he looked at her with glazed eyes and whispered something softly.

"Hasp? I can’t hear you…” the unicorn twitched her ear, trying to make out his words.

"Don't care about it! If we return to pick up - we will never leave here! Look, that's why other places don't like people like you! I also thought that they were delusional tales of travelers gorged on creeping mushrooms ... Look carefully there! He dragged her to the rickety railing and pointed to the other side of the gap. A figure hesitated at the edge of the collapsed floor. Pale, covered with streaks of cracks, flickering with inner fire, she sucked in the air through her nostrils and quietly, as if inquiringly, snapped her thinned teeth. Burning eye sockets, outlined by a blackened skin, looked straight into the heart, attracting and terrifying at the same time. With a jerk of her head, leaving a trail of smoky burgundy, she staggered away, kicking up dust in her long dirty tail. “Skirrers… Swallowed by wild magic. Inhaled by the primal dust of strength, usually giving skills from nature. Magic is bad, other villages say, but they are the cause. In them and others like them."

Hasp let go of the elusive unicorn, which pressed against the wall with horror in its eyes. Staying away from the railing, she shivered and clutched at the dangling record around her neck with her hoof.

Card...

Recent events have come together. Hasp belatedly realized what a fool he was for not realizing right away. Opened door. Pestle. The item he picked up. Everything became clear, but so late. The shattered thing lay in front of the door, not behind it. The companion picked it up, trying to get through the door - and he was gone. Someone who was already here came out and smashed the record so no one could get into this dangerous and abandoned place. And the three of them, it occurred to them to shorten the path. Not only cut, but also have a pass with you .

The earth pony slammed its muzzle against the wall with a groan, bringing itself to life with pain. What happened can not be changed, but it's not too late to get out of here. Pulling a narrow bottle out of his bag, he knocked off the ground cork from the neck and poured half of it into the shaking Lamella's mouth with one confident movement.

"Swallow ... Now you need it, otherwise you will crumble. Yes, and I also need..." the second half splashed into his throat, making him wince at the burning astringent taste. Fear and annoyance moved aside and thoughts gradually aligned, pushing everything less important to the side. The unicorn was still trembling, but there was no longer the former all-encompassing panic in her eyes. “Now listen... Listen to me carefully! Those creatures... Lamella, look at me! Don't think about them, listen to me! They had the same thing how about you. But they were not allowed in the door. May be yours will work..."

“They were unicorns… they were like me… will I become one too? Hasp, I don’t want to be like them…” Lamella curled up into a ball and covered her muzzle with her hooves. "I do not want..."

"If you don't want to, you won't. How should I know?! But you have the same thing hanging around your neck that can open doors. Not alone, so others. This is not a talisman for good luck. Your ancestors brought this with them from a similar place. Maybe even from here. And that’s why you need to get ready,” Hasp whispered hoarsely, listening to the echoes of doors opening and slamming shut. Floors above, something thumped loudly, and a slipped wooden box fell into the gap. "You are smart. Focus and trust your cursed blood. Let it fit for something now."

"I'm a pony! I'm a pony! I'm not like them,” Lamella sobbed, getting up.

“As long as that thing on your neck can get us out of here, whatever. Who are you?” Hasp looked around, choosing the safest passage leading into the building. A dry wind blew again from below, accelerated by the spinning blades. Their rasp drowned out other sounds, obscuring the creatures' steps as much as the pony's clatter from them. "Now let's go. With any luck, we'll find something to eat while we're looking for a way out. And we'll try this juice of yours ... there is almost no water left, it definitely won't get worse."

The earthpony leaned over the railing and looked down. The ruined shaft led to the surface, but the black murk floating in the air, hiding the bottom, did not inspire confidence. Especially when the wind dispersing her exposed a bony muzzle looking up , with three pairs of empty eye sockets. Swallowing, Hasp slowly moved away from the edge, feeling part of the floor tremble and crumble under his weight.

The skewed corridors stretched, intertwining with each other and forming crossroads from round platforms. Side doors led to ruined and abandoned rooms. Hasp stared gloomily at the traces of panic and mayhem, flinching and frozen when his gaze stumbled upon long furrows from claws, as if something massive was trying to get into a narrow passage and, having abandoned attempts to catch up with its target, left, destroying several partitions behind it. The pipes torn from the stone walls hissed like disturbed snakes, spitting out rare puffs of steam. Somewhere, water dripped loudly, gathering into deep puddles. The unfeeling echo doubled the sound of their footsteps, adding to it the cracklings and creaking of bending metal parts coming from somewhere far away. At one of the corners , the floor below them shuddered, knocking both of them off their feet. After a short moment, they were overtaken by a peal of thunder and a howl of air compressed by an unknown force. Clamped between the walls of the underground structure, the hurricane swept down the side corridor, raising clouds of dust from the floor. A wave of grains of sand, fragments of hooves and pieces of decayed fabric rushed straight at the travelers , like a living and hungry creature.

A piece of metal screeched past.

"To the side!" Lamella felt a firm grip on her shoulder and they both slid into the side passage. A bent door clanged with a crumbling lock, miraculously held on by rusted hinges. The rest of the spear braced against the steel surface and the uneven, cracked floor. There was another rumble behind the door. A sharp fragment flying along a tangent left an oblique cut on the door. Clouds of dust and a pungent smell of burning crawled into the target. Cracks crawled up the wall, reaching the door, crushing and jamming it.

“Let’s wait here…” Hasp was lying against the wall, grimacing and for some reason not in a hurry to get up.

"Hasp?" Lamella stepped back from the door, beyond which the crackle of falling pebbles and the howl of the wind that had reversed its direction could still be heard. It felt like something huge was pulling him back. "Hasp..."

“Now... a couple of minutes... and let's go...” the earth pony rummaged through the bag in front of him with trembling hooves. The concern on his muzzle was replaced by horror, but the fright disappeared in the moment when a greenish round vial appeared in his hooves. A cloudy and viscous slurry reluctantly poured out of a narrow neck onto his tongue, and he shook the bottle, urging its contents to come out. Just a scratch...

Exhaling those words and swallowing the potion, he closed his eyes and fell on his side. Behind him, along the wall, a wide dark red stripe was traced, as if it occurred to someone to smear a wide brush on a gray wall .

"HASP!!!" the horror of what happened did not reach the unicorn immediately. "HASP! Don't fall asleep! Not now...not you...Hasp!!"

Almond-colored hooves shook the suddenly haggard and aged pony, feeling how it swayed limply from side to side. Unfastening the sturdy cape and sliding the chest strap, the unicorn felt a barely perceptible pulse beat under the skin. The pony groaned, but never left the comfortable unconsciousness. Sobbing and burying her nose in the earth pony's scarred chest and neck, she let out a sigh of relief.

Hasp was rude. He rarely spoke. He could scare, but without him, this place became even scarier. Until recently, she wanted to leave after his words, but now ...

Time passed too slowly. Lamella, constructing a sled out of a spare cape, straps from her bag, and outlandish strips of silvery threads found in one of the crates lying around in the closet, Lamella dragged the earth pony across the floor. The dry and dusty air made me thirsty, but there were only two flasks of clean water left. And both of them will be needed when Hasp comes to his senses. Stopping to take a breath, she fished out another of the jars found earlier. This was the third Lamella to be drained, and nothing happened to her, despite the fears of the earthponies. On the contrary, it seemed with each sip , her body was filled with vigor and strength, allowing her to move her hooves for several more hours.

“If only you would give me the opportunity to carry things with a horn ... It would become much easier,” she said with a sad smile, looking at the image of a unicorn on a jar. She, despite the patches of peeled paint and scratches covering her, winked at her affably. A little lower, a barely noticeable inscription was barely visible: "Orange Fountain - a charge of vivacity for the body and mind ," composed of unusually written letters. Lamella slid over the inscription once more, remembering how she had been secretly taught to read simple inscriptions. The signs on the bank were similar, but not all were guessed. More precisely, not even so, the signs were words, but not all words became clear after reading. And first of all, this concerned the signs and signs inscribed on the walls above the doors of the corridor along which she walked. At the seventh turn, Hasp groaned, and his right side turned red again, spreading a stain over the skin. Dropping her bag, she pulled out another round vial. She added some clean water to it, swirled it until the liquid became less viscous, and poured the coughing earthpony into her mouth. Trying not to look at him, the filly clenched his jaws, not letting the penultimate tincture go to waste. Twitching a couple more times and sluggishly hitting her shoulder with his hoof, he calmed down, breathing more evenly. Lamella sat down next to the makeshift drag. Not counting the first bottle he drank, it was already the third, but he did not get better.

“This place is really poisoned…” she said to Hasp, putting on the straps and straightening her bag. Slowly, step by step, she set off.

* * *

Either the skirrers found a way around the gap, or they lived not only behind it, but the unicorn dragging Haspa almost met them muzzle to muzzle. Shaking in almost animal horror, she pressed a hoof to the earthpony's lips, trying to drown out his moans. Ahead, the skirrers roamed slowly through the spacious hall, pressing their hooves against the rocking, crackling tiles of the swollen floor. They moved their legs with the sound of dry branches rubbing against each other. covered with wet sand. They sniffed, jerkily looked around in search of things known to them alone. At times it seemed as if they were trying to speak, moving slowly with trembling, snapping jaws. And when Lamella thought she heard unintelligible words, one of the creatures actually spoke.

“Nullifikatrrr magic… open valve five. Open valve eight. Shut off the ingredients... ingredients... I'll be right back. Wait... dear. Take the foals and go with the combat... combat... it will be safe there. Necessary. Need to stay. Magic Nullifier. Gate nine... to twenty-six. Let ... into ... let into the air supply systems. Burn the creature's magic... to all of them. Darling... take the foals and... go... close the door behind you... close the door... krrrr... crack, " the voice subsided, as soon as the burgundy magic oozing with a smoky plume in the eye sockets gained strength. The skirrers bowed his head and moved toward the open door. Several more followed him, succumbing to the influence of his voice.

Cautiously, as she passed the corridor leading to the hall, she slowly dragged Hasp behind her, wishing with all her heart that he would not be seen in the dim light of the stones. The belt tightened when the drag caught on the edge of a piece of tile sticking out of the floor. Swallowing and calming her frozen heart, the unicorn exhaled slowly and pulled again. There was a dull crack of tearing fabric, and several creatures raised their heads, listening with their shabby ears and looking around.

Gritting her teeth, Lamella pulled Hasp into the opening in one tug and kicked her hind legs shut the metal door behind him. With a chill of horror in her chest, hearing the approaching clatter of hooves and inquiring clicks of teeth, she grabbed the lever with her front hooves, hanging on it with all her weight. The rusty streak descended reluctantly, but much more slowly than the approaching sounds of disturbed Skirrers, who unmistakably determined where the noise came from.

"Come on!! Get down, come on," the unicorn moaned, unable to stand it, pulling the lever back towards herself, and then down, feeling the sharp edges of the metal slip off the horseshoes and scratch the skin. Biting her lip, holding back her scream, she rested her horn against the iron door and finally heard the long-awaited dull click. Following him, a hail of blows fell on the door, mixed with wheezing, rustling and scratching from the outside. Not believing her luck, she slowly took a step back, unable to take her eyes off the trembling, but holding under the blows of the barrier. She stumbled over the lying and groaning Hasp, and she collapsed onto her croup. Attempts to break the door stopped, and instead they heard a scratching sound.

“ i]Oooo... open the door... Open it... for us... no? Heaven... see the sky... give me... freedom. Let me see... do you want to? " came an eerie, rustling voice, as if the speaker had taken a mouthful of dry sand.

Letting out a heart-rending cry, the unicorn grabbed onto the straps and dragged Hasp away from the voice that came from behind the door, interrupted by the thumping of hooves.

“Stop…stop dragging me, you half-witted filly…” a voice came from behind her as the aching muscles in her legs forced Lamella to slow down and lean wearily against the wall. The energizing juice gurgled in the jar, but she didn't even have the strength to open it. “Where... Where are we now?”

“Far, I hope, from a place where we definitely shouldn’t have stayed ...” the unicorn whispered tiredly with dry lips, sitting against the wall. Hasp laying in front of her looked unimportant. Painful pallor showed through under the skin. The dark eyes seemed to have lost color, but he looked attentively, even if he struggled to keep his head up. — Hasp. Are you better?

“No better than when a huge beetle chewed me, mistaking me for a kind of fat aphid ... strange dust does not allow the wound to heal ...” coughing, the pony took out a square vial that was different from the others and handed it to the filly. - Pour it on the side...

Violet liquid bubbled as it soaked into the brown patch of dried tissue. Hasp dug his teeth into the crook of his hoof and twitched softly every time a new drop caused foam that smelled inappropriately of forest flowers. When she had finished and tossed out the empty vial with a trembling hoof, Lamella began to help pull off the cloak and wrappings. The deep incised wound darkened and gradually healed with pink skin. Only at the edges were visible burgundy-azure droplets of crystals growing from the body.

Is it that bad? Husp remarked with a wan smile as he took sip after sip from the flask. Weighing it in his hoof, he stared thoughtfully at the dented metal surface. There's more water here than there should be. You didn't drink from pipes, did you?

"No," the unicorn wrapped the pony's side and part of her thigh in a dry bandage.

From puddles? I told you not to drink from them…” he asked tiredly, closing the flask with a lid and snapping the lock half a turn.

“I saved water for you. I had enough juice from the cans,” she answered with a sigh, making a knot and tightening it, taking one end with her teeth and pressing the other with her hoof.

— That juice? How much have you drunk already? Are you feeling well? The husky voice sounded worried. He would have scolded her heartily and possibly scolded her if there was even a little extra energy left for it. The pony closed his eyes, trying to ward off the worst of it.

“Three... no, five cans. I'm fine. You should also try, they give strength, and, it seems, even satisfy hunger, - sitting down next to me, the unicorn answered. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine herself sitting by a rock on a hill. Above her was the night sky.

“You could have poisoned yourself and stay here forever...” the words of a tired and panting stallion were barely audible.

“I didn’t get poisoned… and you said it yourself, maybe my parents came from here,” Lamella remembered the rustling words in the hall and shuddered. Hasp could very well be right. The contents of the jars could turn her into the same clicking and creaking creature with a long tangled mane and burning eyes. But fatigue took its toll, and she brushed aside this thought and fell asleep, resting her head on the stallion's strong shoulder.

* * *

It never occurred to Lamella to ask Hasp. how he lived. He always left and returned to the village, not particularly talking about where he was and where he is going again. Sometimes other ponies would go with him. They did not always return, and in those days he could be found sitting by the fire, looking into the fire, as if waiting for the images in his memory to be burned along with the branches and logs. She didn't understand it in him. Sometimes new ponies would come along with him, looking around warily and answering questions sparingly. The trembling of their hooves betrayed a long not the safest way.

Opening her eyes, she watched him gently knead his hooves. The cape, belts and bag lay against the wall. It was the first time Lamella had seen him without them. The dark azure suit was barely visible under a layer of dust and patches of gray hair. Old welts stretched across the chest and down the neck to the back in faded stripes, where new fur would never grow. A deep scar cut through the cutie mark, still bearing the marks of an inept healer who had pulled the edges too roughly. Muscles rolled under the skin every time Hasp tried to bend harder and reach another abrasion with a long brush. moistened with a shimmering pinkish paste.

"You didn't say you had so many wounds," she said softly, catching the pony off guard. As he darted towards the cape, he froze and, spitting out the brush from his mouth, inhaled noisily through his nose.

“Unfortunately fell down the stairs,” he replied, maintaining a feigned equanimity.

“Full of fangs and teeth and lined with dragon bones?” Lamella closed her eyes, trying not to look where decent young fillies shouldn't. There was a rustle of fabric and the click of locks on buckles.

Something like that. It was quite a long, hungry and extremely dodgy staircase,” he added calmly. - You don’t have to squint, I know perfectly well how I look and what impression it makes. You don't need to feel sorry for me.

An empty can rolled out from under his foot, bouncing loudly on the junctions of the tiles. The unicorn pointed at her questioningly without saying a word.

“I looked at you while you were sleeping. Everything was fine with you. Flask water is useful for tinctures, who knows what the concentrate will turn into if you dilute it with this fizzy brew. And yes... you're right, it gives a little strength, - Hasp said a little guiltily, adding : - You will need to pick them up along the way, if you get any more.

“I was watching to see if I would kick my hooves,” the unicorn summed up, and slowly got up from the floor, sitting by the bags. After a surge of strength , the sleep that knocked her off her feet did not help much. My body felt shattered and I desperately wanted to pull the tongue of the can again with my teeth, feeling the refreshing fountain of spray. Instead, she opened the packet, staring at the crunchy contents. Having almost no smell and taste, it was still perfectly chewed and even a little sticky to the teeth.

“While you were sleeping without hind hooves, I walked along the corridor a little back and forth. There are several exits in total, and except for one, all are locked, and each time as I tried to knock on the door or open it, a voice gurgled indistinctly from the ceiling. The open one is full of darkness reigning behind it, which does not want to be dispersed even by the light of a torch. We definitely won't go there. Time to try your knick-knack in action, - the bag took its place, unsuccessfully digging into the wound with a belt. With a hiss, the earthpony swung her over to the opposite side.

“We can go back ... these things could have gone during this time,” she noticed the unicorn swallowing the sticky food, strangely stretching and crumbling on the tongue at the same time.

— Could. But the door is still jammed or blocked. I've been there and checked. They can’t get here, but we can’t get out the same way, ”the pony replied, holding out a hoof and helping her up. - No luck with the record, we'll try to open one of the doors. In the side dead end, I saw some pieces of iron and fragments of rods.

There was no confidence in his voice. She figured it out barely glanced at the dusty nook. It is unlikely that this rubbish could open the doors, calmly withstanding the fierce blows of the creakers. Sighing, she quickened her pace, catching up with Hasp.

— A data mismatch has been detected. Please remove the ID card and insert it into the marked slot. Thank you, ” a voice spoke for the third time from the steel-rimmed oval stone on the wall as Lamella carefully pushed the record back into a barely visible slot on the side of the entrance. “ Data inconsistency detected… please… extract… extract…”

“Try another door,” Hasp pointed aside with his hoof.

I don't like the picture next to her. Something strange. Maybe over there, it looks like food, - Lamella went to the metal surface and, carefully rubbing the plate on the fur, inserted it into the groove without removing the chain from her neck. It was enough to recoil from the wall for the record to jump back out.

Access denied. Data cannot be read through the device. Contact... contact... the repair and supply department for troubleshooting. Read error entry added to the rest. Information. One hundred and twenty-one unread error messages have been saved so far. Waiting for a response from the repair and support department. The repair department has been ignoring requests for two hundred and forty-one years ... two months ... three weeks ... two days since the introduction of the general conservation regime, - this time the voice answered much more distinctly than before, but this door did not move either.

Open the door for us, we have a record! I saw the passage open when the creaker stuck the same thing in the crack! The earthpony slammed its hooves onto the smooth surface. All he achieved was a few clouds of dust falling from the ceiling. - Well, that's it ... we wanted to do it in a good way, you strange voice, but since it didn’t work out ...

After leaving for a short time, the pony returned with a piece of pipe and a bent rod. in which the rotary lever was hardly guessed. Hammering the flat end into the gap under the door, he threw a pipe over it and leaned against the piece of iron with a groan. Plates of rust fell on the floor, iron creaked, but the door did not give in. Instead, the same blank voice resounded from the stone.

Penetration attempt. First warning. Stop trying to open the door in a not... not... appropriate way. Repeated penetration attempts will raise the alarm level, - in response, the voice received the wish of Hasp to go into the swamp and chew on the stump there. The lever bent and strove to slip out of the gap, but the armored door did not even think of giving in.

“Hasp, stop it, your wound might open,” the unicorn put a hoof on his shoulder.

“Whoa…” the lever burst out of the slot and the off-balance pony sprawled on the floor. In addition, having received a new bruise from meeting the jaw with the floor. "Then let's try another one." We don't have a choice.

Are you sure? The symbol doesn't look safe.” Lamella clutched the record in her hoof.

“Either she or the corridor full of almost living shadows,” the stallion noticed, brushing off the dust, kicking the unyielding door in parting. - And choosing between them, I prefer an incomprehensible sign to a completely understandable darkness that does not bode well.

Glancing briefly at the darkening gap in the passage, the unicorn swallowed convulsively. The darkness splashed from wall to wall, moved, and something implicit appeared and disappeared in it. For a moment it seemed to the filly, as if from the ceiling of this corridor, two pairs of eyes, located one above the other, looked at her. Two small eyes and two larger ones. The shadow that became tangible gurgled unnaturally, bulging outward for a moment like a sticky film.

Well? Hasp nudged the filly in the back, snapping her out of her stupor. The obsession passed just as suddenly how it appeared.

“Ah... Now.” The record hardly entered the slot next to the door. Something softly clicked in the wall, and a buzzing foot of two metal pins pulled her in deeper, tugging at the chain. A panel opened right in front of the unicorn's nose, revealing a dusty dark surface.

“ Say the word, ” came from the stone on the wall behind him.

And what should I say? Lamella whispered frightenedly towards the zempony.

The word does not match the spelling. Put your hoof on the panel of the backup method of access confirmation, - after the phrase, a beveled cylinder with a dusty notch moved out from the side. Before Hasp could do anything, Lamella's front leg, outstretched towards the thing that emerged from the floor, was wrapped around the two halves of the ring, pressing the hoof into the notch.

Aaay!! - the filly felt a short prick and tried in vain to pull her leg out of the trap.

A discrepancy between the biometric parameters of the used identification card and the biometric parameters of the owner's sample was detected. Assumptions. Attempt of unauthorized... access to the blocked sector of the station. Life host detected "Vireszer" hub city satellite station, which does not have the "resident" or "employee" parameter, - the voice changed slightly, imitating concern. - I am executing the request. Save...

— Of course. Let's do that, - the voice of the earthpony was heard. The iron bar crashed first onto the smooth surface, then slid down the compound ring, sparking with each blow and loosening the trap. Managing to break off one of the halves, he finally freed Lamella, who pulled her hoof out of the remains of the device. The filly carefully licked the place stung by the needle. The lopsided cylinder is stuck half way into the recess. The last blow with the lever hit the slot in the mechanism, causing several bright flashes. For a moment , the corridor plunged into darkness, lit up with a red light. The stone on the wall is gone and with it the voice fell silent. An ominous reddish glow came from the stripes laid just under the ceiling, creating the feeling of a liquid shadow. splashing underfoot. - Old voices. All they can say is. Never mind, we...

Shall we leave? Let's try to open that door. Even if there is a blockage, the two of us will sort it out,” Haspa pulled away from the unicorn’s broken device, but for some reason it looked into the black hole of the only free path, where the clubs of darkness trembled and swayed like a weightless fabric. There was a scraping of metal and a booming thud. The earthpony narrowed its eyes, peered into the reddish twilight and, noticing movement, intercepted the bent lever more comfortably.

“There… there is someone ahead. Someone other than us,” he said hoarsely, figuring out how much time they had left. The booming blow was repeated, resounding closer. An invisible door creaked in the darkness, scratching the floor at the corner. Measured steps were heard in the corridor. - Hide in the cul-de-sac with trash. Behind the box. Stay quiet until I call or everything is quiet. Maybe it's coming from the adjacent hallway.

“Hasp, you’re not going to…” A rough and rust-smelling hoof covered her mouth.

I'm still going to. Hide and be as quiet as you can,” he croaked, pushing the filly towards the dead end. The raised piece of iron clinked as it touched the wall. The footsteps were getting closer, and they didn't look like a creaker. There was no rustling or clicking. On the contrary, they made the floor tremble a little, and then there was a barely perceptible ringing of metal plates hitting each other. Taking a breath of air and counting the time from the last step that sounded nearby, Hasp abruptly lowered the piece of iron on the outstretched head of the creature...

* * *

Pressing into the dusty and sometimes cobwebbed corner behind the crate, Lamella peered through the doorway. There was a short thump of metal on metal and the sound of a rod rolling across the floor. Something massive screeched against the wall, ending with a strangled scream from Hasp. In a limp sack, his body rolled across the floor past the door and out of sight. The remnant of the lever that had fallen from the hooves, sawn almost under the base in a smooth, shiny cut, fell with a boom into a pile of garbage. In the light of the red stripes, a tall silhouette with a long curved horn appeared.

“Oh no… Hasp! - the almond-colored hoof convulsively groped for something heavy, which could distract the figure and froze, as soon as the unicorn could see the enemy of the earth pony. "No... no... don't! Dont touch him!!

From the kick, the cracked box flew into the side of the figure and crumbled into pieces, without even slowing down its movement.

“ Combat unit number two-two-eight-eleven-three-six-seven. The carrier of life has been discovered not included in the lists of permanent, temporary or having the status of guests. An employee, presumably from among the staff - Not found. Potential for harm is expected. I’m about to detain the violator of the general conservation regime, ” a slightly devoid of emotion voice came from the corridor. He was not like a voice coming from the stones, he felt life. Following the heavy blow , there was a quiet groan and the rustle of fabric dragging along the floor.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Lamella rushed out into the corridor, picking up the first crooked rod that came under her hoof.

Let him go! Let go Hasp!! - shouting, she threw a piece of iron in the direction of a seemingly huge silhouette, pressing a hoof against the wall of a stallion, powerless trying to escape. The rod struck something metallic with its tip, struck out mean sparks and rolled away. A lithe snake shot up from the floor, whistling and curving at the unicorn, who struggled to stay on its feet, and froze, aiming at its snout with a sharpened blade protruding from the tip of a leathery arrow. The jointed tail, taken by Lamella for a snake, swayed from side to side, preventing it from taking a step to the side or retreating without the risk of getting hit. Up ahead Husp grunted, hooves scraping against what looked like an angular pipe pinning him against the wall, as if a stallion were about to wipe the cracked surface like a rag.

— I classify the level of danger. Violator of the conservation status of the station. Race - earthponies. There are no distinguishing marks. Identification card missing. He resisted. Neutralized. The damage is minor - the figure held the pony pinned against the wall without even lifting the second front hoof off the floor for this. The flickering red glow from the ceiling made it huge and seemed to burn where the light reflected from the sharp sharpened blades. Lamella couldn't take her eyes off the blazing bright tongues of light on the chips and notches of the blade on the back of the horn. — Violator of the conservation status of the station. Race is a unicorn. There are no distinguishing marks. ID card...

A bulky hoof ripped Hasp off the wall and slammed the back of his head down again before tossing him aside like a useless thing.

"Don't...don't come near me!" An empty juice can flew at the creature with a loud chirp and bounced off to the side without causing a hint of any damage. The unicorn backed away, looking around and anxiously trying to see where her companion had flown. We didn't want to break the door. She did not open, and then grabbed the hoof. Here. I have a door-opening thing! Look! Just like those pale creatures. You're not with them, are you?

In a bright hoof, a plate stretched out from behind the bosom of a jacket swayed on a chain. Stumbled on the uneven floor and closed her eyes from the feeling of the inevitable , the unicorn froze. A booming hoof beat sounded very close, and the nose felt the smell of old metal, the bitter aroma of something resembling grease and ... burning. A bright blue light shone through her clenched eyelids, streaked across her muzzle, leaving floating streaks in her eyes. "This is the end..." she thought. No one will know where the last of the Hasp squad disappeared. The new squad will pass by the closed door. Maybe he would find Pestle, if he really stayed outside, as the old stallion tried to convince her. But most likely none of that will happen. And she will remain lying here, ten steps away from the one who saved her more than once during the last days of the journey and tried to protect her in the settlement. Swallowing, she felt the chain tighten around her neck, tightening around her, as if some force had decided to lift the filly up on her like a sack tied with rope. It was getting hard to breathe.

"Please... don't touch Hasp... he's hurt," she whispered before three sharp needles dug into her shoulder and brought her back from a sense of reconciliation with her future fate. It hurt, and her body reacted by turning over the powers of the mind to instinct. And instinct demanded survival. The hooves hit a hard, slightly curved surface and, instead of pushing the obstacle away, threw the unicorn aside. The wreckage of the crate poked painfully at its corners through the fabric cape, forcing Lamella to open her eyes. The corridor was still flooded with red light, but the massive figure stood motionless in the same place where the filly had stood not so long ago. The shimmering flask protruding from the groove of the armored leg was slowly emptying, pouring the seemingly black liquid into a thin tube. The muzzle, covered with armor plates, watched intently as the last drops disappeared, and the empty flask was again filled with a viscous liquid, this time of a shimmering bluish hue. From the mechanism on the creature's leg came the gurgle, hiss, and crackle of spinning gears.

Sample taken. A comparison is made. Descendant protocol activation parameter detected. I receive data. Comparison with the database of the inhabitants of the satellite station of the satellite city "Vireszer. Error. No data. Comparison with the database of the employees of the satellite station of the satellite city of "Wireszer, " the figure did not move, pronouncing the words as if someone was listening to it. If she spoke them to a filly stretched out a few steps from her, then the latter, feeling a treacherous tremor in her hooves, did not understand anything that was said. The pricked shoulder hurt and itched. Having rubbed it with a hoof, the filly found a small crumb of crystals. Same as on Hasp's wound. - Comparison completed. The data is collected and will be sent to the delimiter data streaming center. Percentage of compliance according to the "Descendant" protocol. Rank nine. Until new orders are received , ensure the safety of a descendant, an employee of the satellite station. Launch protocol two-two-hex-six. Running protocol nine-seven-five-granule. Launch of mandatory protocols in accordance with the tank damage directive containing a magic nullifier. Directive execution started...

The huge figure was deceptively slow. In a few steps, the armored creature found itself in front of the filly, cowering in horror, blocking its path to retreat with its tail digging into the wall. Blades protruding along it, partly broken and bent, gleamed dangerously in the dim light.

“I…” the unicorn’s mouth broke off when a cylinder on a flexible hinge slid from the hoof that pressed her to the floor and, breaking through the fabric of the jacket, stuck three sharp pins into her chest.

Administration of antidote based on recovered sample complete. I am updating the biometric data of the identification card. There is a long absence of control records. The last entry is dated: Two hundred and eleven years from the indicated date of evacuation, - a translucent plate of a unicorn, which ended up in a groove on another hoof of the creature, spat out with a distinct click and changed its color from neutral greenish to a pleasant cream. - To complete registration under the protocol "Descendant" , state your name.

"Don't touch... his... metal thing..." The hooves powerlessly struck the seemingly immovable armor before slipping powerlessly. Something flared in her chest, and Lamella felt the disgusting dryness of the sand on her teeth. The corridor tilted and swam. The shadows on the walls curved, opened the red eyes of the spiraling red stripes, and laughed vilely:

“The horned brat that killed the world… well you should… well you should… damned unicorn…”

The creature looked expectantly at the filly's unconscious body. Repeating the request several times and having received no answer, it carefully lifted her up, hooking her cloak with her claw and walked down the corridor.

* * *

Clean white ceiling. Almost the same as she remembered him , as a foal. Even cleaner. There were no yellow spots from smudges of broken pipes. There were no brown ones left behind by something that the parents preferred to keep silent about, and then they could no longer tell. My whole body felt pleasantly tired and light. As if there was no long way. There was no travel over the plains and mountain paths. There was no escape from the creaking creatures down the corridor. Lamella raised a hoof in front of her. Scratched, a little dusty. Everything is as it should be. Soft sunlight streamed from the hemispheres in the walls, giving the impression of windows concave inwards. The birds chirped...

Birds...

The unicorn jumped, falling off the soft but flimsy couch. The crunchy fabric cracked, releasing a crumpled fibrous filling that made you want to sneeze. Wondering how long she'd been here, Lamella discovered she wasn't wearing a cloak. Clothes and bags lay against the wall, opposite the exit from the white room. Outside the open door, in eerie contrast, were the marks of a battle that had left a network of cracks on the thick glass. Remembering the last moments of her life, the unicorn convulsively felt her chest. Three punctures felt a slight tingling sensation. And that's it. No stinging, no bruised feeling. It seemed to even breathe easier. On the dust-covered table stood a familiar jar of juice, but much more intact than those found earlier by the filly. Next to her is a small stack of food bags. Their mere sight awakened a mixture of thirst and hunger, which is why, without hesitation, Lamella opened the first of the bags and tore off the elastic tongue from the jar. The sour, refreshing drink pleasantly stinged her throat with bubbles until it was inhaled directly into her nose, forcing her to sneeze a few more times and press her hoof to her nostrils. The contents of the sachets were delicious. Unusual, but perfectly combined with viscosity and an approaching feeling of satiety.

Until the satisfaction of hunger returned her sanity to its place, and with it the understanding that Hasp was no longer with her. Another unopened bag fell to the floor, and with it, drops of tears broke on the hoof-worn tiles.

— Hasp. What am I to do now? How did it happen, Hasp? she whispered with trembling lips. Hooves thudded across the table, warping the table top and spilling the rest of the treats. After standing for a minute in front of the packets lying on the floor, the mare bent down and began convulsively collecting them in a heap. No matter what, she's alive. That creature spoke of an employee of this place. Since she was left here, then there are other ponies in this place. Maybe they found Hasp and helped him before the armored creature finished him off. Food is not something that should be scattered even in moments of despair. Bags with such a delicacy were left by seekers like Hasp in reserve, since they were perfectly stored in any conditions, remaining sealed.

Hastily pulling on her cape and fastening the straps of her bag, Lamella stepped out the door. True, there was once a fight in the corridor .

But a very long time ago.

The translucent plate crawled into the slot and another door obediently opened. The voice from the stones on the walls did not say a word to the fact that an uninvited guest entered inside. The room was a mess. Things lay scattered on the floor mixed with round pot-bellied bottles, reminiscent of healing potions, only the color was azure, and the contents turned out to be thinner. Ground-in corks additionally crimped thin strips of metal with engraved signs. A valuable find went into the bag after the strips of fabric, neatly folded into rolls by someone . After opening several more doors with empty or cluttered rooms, Lamella found a glass cabinet full of jars and bags of food. With kicks and frantic blows to the steel sidewalls , she managed to shake most of the supplies out of him. Rumbling footsteps behind her caught her stuffing her loot into the compartments of her crumpled travel bag.

“ Say your name to complete the Descendant protocol registration, ” a gruff and deep voice from the red-lit hallway that she dreamed of in a nightmare of unconsciousness rumbled behind her.

A couple of jars caught in the hooves flew straight into the armored muzzle, but the unicorn did not manage to take a couple of steps, as a jointed tail wrapped around it. Knocking her over on her back, they dragged her across the dusty floor and threw her onto a cracked sofa, which plaintively creaked under her and a bag picked up by the strap. The ancient furniture crunched and crumbled as it caught the unicorn clutching its load.

Do you want to know my name? Lamella! This is my name! You killed Hasp and now you've come after me? What do you really need from me? the filly shouted, trying to get out of the remnants of upholstery, cracked slats and planks hanging from the remnants of the ropes. Clumsily flapping her hooves, trying not to miss the bag, she finally rolled over, feeling how the bursting metal ribbons scratched her thick cape.

Name received. Lamella. Registration completed. Welcome to the satellite town of Vireszer, descendant of Lamell. The security system is reporting multiple violations of the station's conservation status. It is not safe for all personnel to remain on the station. the entire quarantine cycle, ” a massive figure stood between the unicorn and the only way out of the room .

Twice as tall as Lamella, a horned creature clad in articulated armour, the bulkiness of which perfectly concealed its extraordinary mobility. From time to time, wisps of steam or air made their way from the cracks in the armor on the hooves, silently raising clouds of dust from the floor. The tail joints of an unknown inhabitant of this abandoned place were crimped with frayed sections of steel plates, some of which were missing. Blades merged with bone or growing directly from it protruded through narrow slits. Half of the front of the helmet was missing. Sharp claws tore out a piece of metal, exposing part of a slightly elongated muzzle with a chopped nose. The old scars, which had healed, stretched along the cheekbone and crossed the eye, which was looking at the unicorn a little distantly.

Lamella couldn't help but wonder how the bent parts of the armor didn't get in the way of the creature. The serrated edges must have scratched the skin as they moved. Doesn't it... whoever it is , can't feel the metal scratching its body? With difficulty , tearing her eyes away from the muzzle clad in armor, the unicorn stared at the folded leather wing, torn to the state of bone ribs. For the first time in many years, the unicorn saw someone with hooves and wings at the same time, in addition to pegasi flying high in the sky. But they did not have a protruding and bent back flat horn with a blade. And frantically thinking about it, she did not immediately realize that the creature was addressing her with a question.

— What are you? asked Lamella, amazed at her treacherous voice. - Unicorn? Pegasus?

Combat unit, serial number two-two-eight-eleven-three-six-seven, - simply and without going into details, the one who called herself a unit responded without taking a step towards the captive. " How can I... help?"

Hasp! What did you do with it? Why did you kill him? the voice trembled. A tear rolled down her cheek, as soon as the memory of a pony flying into the darkness arose before the filly's eyes. He lay there alone, in the dark, arching unnaturally and stretching out his hooves.

Intruder. Earthpony race. Detained and quarantined until ordered by an employee and, or, a temporary employee of the station. - A rough voice echoed around the room. The living eye looked at the unicorn expectantly with... curiosity?

Like a twig of hope, the filly clung to the spoken words. Hasp has been arrested. You can't detain someone who... died, right? And there is someone in this place who can let him go! And that someone needs to be convinced to do it. Offer something in return. Anything.

“This employee, let Hasp go then!” We were with him on a long journey. We are waiting! There, in the village. We need to find and bring them the seeds. We didn't want to get in here, it's just a mistake. You understand me? Here, look at this record! She is very dear to me, but I... I will give her to whoever needs her if Hasp is released! I don't need her, - the unicorn tore off the plate and threw the figures to the hooves. “Old magic is bad. No one else will come to the ruins, I promise! Give it to the officer, have Hasp released. and we... we'll get out of here... and let it take too!

Lamella sobbed. After a moment's hesitation, she released the bag that jingled with jars and pushed it towards the record. Hasp's freedom was worth the loss of easily acquired provisions. Just to get out of here, he'll think of something. Always figured it out.

The slowly nodding figure picked up the iridescent cream-colored object and came close to the unicorn. In the light of white stones , in an abandoned room, the creature looked menacing in these scratched, with traces of blows and stains of soot, armor plates that ideally envelop the contours of the body and do not hinder movement. The smell of metal , a sour taste touched the nose of the unicorn, which closed its eyes from the inevitable. Instead of pain, Lamella felt the weight and coolness of the chain around her neck.

— Identification card returned to temporary station employee. Execution of the given order in the process of execution, ” the unit slowly turned around and walked out of the room, shaking its tail and leaving thin lines of scratches from the blades on the floor.

— I don't understand... Did you give me the record? Why? Hey! – late recollecting herself, the unicorn ran after her, trying to keep up with the figure making wide steps. The metal boxes that came across on the way crumpled like empty cans, scattering their small contents with a creak. The pipes that fell into the gap in the corridor were pushed aside by a whole wing, as if they were not made of thick metal. Looking around, Lamella almost nipped her nose into the sharp spikes as the creature froze in front of the door. divided into two parts by a thin black stripe. The doors, decorated with incomprehensible cracked symbols, parted to the sides and, squeezing between a solid frame and a combat unit frozen on the threshold, a unicorn rolled into the room.

— Hasp? Hasp! Wake up! - clinging to the motionless pony, the filly drew in her imagination the most terrible. The stallion was lying face down on a surprisingly transparent slab. Hard as a stone, but iridescent inside with tiny flickering sparks. Subtly, the earthpony's flanks rose and fell as almond-colored hooves shook it once more. “Haaaasp… What’s wrong with him, armored unit?” Why is he lying and hardly breathing?

— The violator has been detained and is awaiting a decision. At the time of detention, a wound threatening life functions and subsequent poisoning by the decay product of the magic nullifier was noted. The cycle of life-restoring treatment is coming to an end. Samples taken for re-identification. No data found. Due to the lack of initial data , the "Descendant" protocol cannot be applied to the intruder, - a tall figure approached the wall. In response to several extended cubes and a recessed panel, symbols on the wall flared up and scattered to the sides. - The streaming data center from the limiters cannot make a final decision. A second request has been sent to the hub city "Vireszer .

Not really listening to the creature's incomprehensible words, Lamella peered at Hasp's lying body, frozen between sleep and unconsciousness. Three red dots have been added to the old scars on his chest. The wound on his side seemed clean. Not a single shiny crystal was visible at the edges, only small dark specks remained of them. At first glance, the scars were smoothed out, covered with a small fluff. Sitting down beside her, she released his hoof from hers, staring dejectedly at the floor. Pressing her hooves to her ears, she stifled a scream. Without words, without understanding why she is doing this and how crying will help her. Anxiety, fatigue, fear and uncertainty burst out in this short cry, causing the combat unit to lightly twitch its ears, but it did not budge. Taking a deep breath, the unicorn screamed again and felt a poke on the back of her head.

“If she’s going to kill us, then at least accept death with dignity… Not the worst place to kick back… Light… clean.” It's like going back home for you, right? Lamy? - a hoarse, tired and sleepy voice sounded overhead, along with the rustle of an awkwardly rising body. Slipping, the stallion fell off the stove to the floor and slowly got up on trembling legs. “Hey you… armored horned thing. I know what your hooves and horn are capable of. Do it... fast...

Hasp never called her "Lami" . The only time he said the unicorn's name in this way was on the night when the stone-and-metal-devouring creature, painted with poisonous scarlet patterns, returned in nightmares, looming over her behind the cracked glass. And then there was a roar, a roar and silence. And the sound of her crying, in an empty room plunged into darkness. She woke up, frightening the other foals, choking with tears and incoherent phrases, and found herself in a strong embrace. "Lami , " came over her ear.

Treatment cycle completed. The two-component antivenom was administered in accordance with the emergency order. Side effects. Not identified. The samples taken during the arrest of the intruder do not match the available data. ” The unit stepped closer, forcing Hasp instinctively to step between it and the unicorn. - Say your name. Status. Personnel affiliation. Identification number associated with a hub city or other satellite station.

“She also demanded a name from me, and then brought me to you,” Lamella’s trembling voice was heard behind the stallion.

"She brought you to me?" And didn't touch? notes of hope mixed with disbelief in the stallion's voice. Hasp half turned, trying not to let the eerie figure out of his sight. "Are you sure this isn't some clever trick?" She told me all the ribs...

With a jerk, Hasp pressed a hoof to his chest. Under the skin, bulges of the chest were felt. Having reached the largest scar, the hoof froze. There was a rib under the fur. A rib missing for many years, torn out by one of the wild creatures from the poisoned lands.

“Unicorn magic,” the words spat out like a curse. “Hey thing, are you a damn unicorn?”

All available medics evacuated during the attack and breach of the seventh and fifth security circuits. In the absence of medical personnel , the standard treatment procedure was performed in accordance with the anatomical classification item, section five, item thirty-one. The procedure includes the administration of healing and restorative drugs, antidotes, and re-sampling for comparison with the available data - the armored creature answered almost without intonation. “ I don’t belong to the medical staff. I am unit number two-two-eight-eleven-three-six-seven. Awakened and dispatched to investigate the cause of the damage in the closed section.

“I don't really understand what you're talking about. Combat unit? All right, - steel was heard in the stallion's voice, and he took a short step towards his cape and bag. The unit slightly turned its head in his direction. “Out there, a broken world. This whole place is ruins. And you're saying someone else is bothered by a scratched door? Can't you see what's going on in the corridors?

I confirm. The satellite station is damaged more than the calculated level, but this does not give the right to damage valuable equipment during the conservation period - the creature, if it was following it, was not very closely. She seemed more interested in the unicorn. And only the word toy left Hasp outside the interests of the creature.

Step by step , getting closer to the bag, Hasp examined the enemy. In the light from the stones and the panel on which he woke up from a scream, the reason for his defeat became clear. The armor of this "unit" gave odds to everything that he had ever seen in his life. Massive, durable, many inhabitants of the poisoned lands would break their teeth on it. With bare hooves, there was no chance , it was like kicking a rock. On the thigh, merging with the armor as a single whole, one could see a flat, thick disc, fastened with a scaly metal bracelet. The four arrows on its surface rotated smoothly, freezing above the barely visible symbols. The gaze of the seasoned stallion lingered on the wings. The folds were adorned with sharp claws. More precisely claw. On the second , heavily damaged wing, it was broken off at the root. Whatever creature had ravaged the unit, leaving marks even on its armor, Hasp hoped it wasn't still roaming the corridors of the ruins. Take a chance?

“On the count of three , run after me,” Hasp said in a hoarse whisper, snatching up both bags and a cape. A jerk, a rebound to the side in order to slide along the wall, going behind the back of the "unit". Some more and an exit door. — Lamella?

The unicorn remained in place.

The screeching metal hit the floor in front of his nose. A jointed tail bristled with blades, blocking the earthpony's path.

Say your name. Status. Personnel affiliation. Identification number for binding to a hub city or other satellite station, - the combat unit turned around, taking steps in his direction. The tail, stuck in the barrier, creaked with armor plates and tore out a piece of white tile, crumbling into small fragments.

Name? Name... Hasp! I don’t know what you want from me, but I don’t have anything like that, you unknown creature! the earthpony backed away from the dangerously gleaming blades. Lamella appeared with a rustle, holding a record on a chain in her hoof. The filly was breathing heavily, betraying excitement. Now it's her turn to protect her companion. And she believed in the object hanging around her neck.

— Brilliant thing, look! You called me a temporary employee and a descendant! Do you remember? This is Hasp, he's with me. Can you just let us go? - swallowed unicorn shielded the satellite with itself. His throat was dry with fear, and his voice sounded somehow plaintive.

' The Data Stream Center is awaiting a response from the Vireszer hub city for a final decision, ' the unit called back.

“We don’t have time to sit and wait for an answer from nobody knows. Trying to shorten the path, we were already decently delayed. I don’t even know how long I lay unconscious here, ”Hasp’s voice came from the side, trying to pull on a cape. Hooves trembled, and the momentary weakness returned.

The armored creature silently blocked their path.

* * *

Perfect nonsense. I can’t imagine how you managed to persuade me to participate in this adventure, the hard surface of the road echoed under the hooves. From afar, it seemed like a solid sheet, but in fact the plates had long since parted, and every hundred steps one had to go around the gap or jump over the gap, from which dryish and brittle grass stuck out. Far behind was the half-filled entrance to the station, again locked by a massive door, merging in color with the rock. And behind it are dark corridors with clicking creatures. Two of them were faster than the others and almost caught up with Lamella... Hasp resolutely did not want to remember what had happened before his eyes when the armored thing entered the battle. The Skripuns were mortally unlucky and the sounds heard behind them did not bode well.

“I didn’t have to persuade you. Protecta stuck your hoof into the oval thing in the corner of the room. And when you pulled it out, you already had this wonderful bracelet on, - Lamella carelessly paced beside her, looking around. Everyone has always said only bad things about stone paths. Every word was a warning against traveling the slab-covered paths. As soon as they were not called, but for all the time only a crab crawling somewhere, stepped over the gray canvas of the path and went on, creaking its chitinous paws, became interested in travelers. But he was one and a half times taller than a combat unit, and his claws glittered dangerously in the rays of the sun.

"Against my will, by the way," Hasp snorted.

I don't understand why you're still frowning. A nice bracelet, and without it you wouldn't have been let out of there, - Lamella cast a short glance at the strip gleaming on the stallion's hoof.

Bracelet? I'm not talking about him! I'm talking about this thing you call Protecta that made us drag along the damn road instead of the indicated path on the map! Hasp raised his voice and poked his hoof in the direction of the unit in front. - I don’t even know what’s worse , the fact that we trample the road of the dead with our hooves or that you trust her! A few days ago we could have been left forever in the ruins under the rocks. This creature knocked the breath out of me, and then did strange things to me and you! And you take it easy? Lamella, what happened to you? Where is the unicorn I knew?

Hasp dropped a step with a hoof showed the growth of a foal, as she was on the day of their first meeting.

Lamella sighed as she considered the earthpony's words. He was right. The defender certainly looked menacing. Her actions were disturbing and frightening. Until now, the filly did not always understand what the unit said when it answered her questions, never starting to speak first. And she answered only her, completely ignoring Hasp, which brought him to a boiling point. When Lamella completely ceased to understand the answers, Protecta fell silent, considering the filly's complaints, and began to chew on her like a foal. When they walked around the rubble, heading for the exit, she told about the attack of a huge creature that left a breach through all the floors. She explained how to use the cupboards with food she met along the way. They did not need to be shaken and beaten with hooves, it was enough to bring your record to the rounded socket and press the key with the desired "product" . A smart cupboard will give out as much food as the key is pressed until its stock runs out. But then the answers again became more complicated and less clear. From all that was said , the filly understood one thing - many, many times ago, some terrible rubbish spilled over half the levels of the station, turning those who remained on it into something aimlessly wandering along the corridors, creaking and repeating meaningless phrases. In creakers. And so that he and Hasp do not repeat their fate, according to the protocols similar to the rules in the villages on the surface, the protector pricked them both with an antidote. Since these "protocols" must be followed. Why, and whether it is possible not to do so, the defender did not answer.

The unicorn walked down the road, thinking over Hasp's words. He was right about one thing , she wanted to believe someone else except him. And the Defender wanted to believe. Not even because, against all odds, the unicorn felt safe next to her for the first time. Or maybe that 's why too... Lamella couldn't make sense of her feelings. The transparent plate of the map chilled her chest, and now she did not want to part with it.

She knows where the place indicated on the map is. The most direct way to get there is this road, Hasp. And her protocol... I don't remember the number, obliges you to accompany a resident or employee on a trip there. Whether we like it or not,” Lamella smiled, remembering as at the first attempt to get off the road onto an overgrown path , a combat unit stood in their way, silently , pointing to a stone path. She calls me "descendant" . Hasp! We are both alive and there is a lot of food in the bags. Delicious juice. Non-perishable. What else do you need? And we both go to the promised gardens. Nearly even...

Without saying "flat road" , Lamella stumbled over something protruding from the crack and fell nose down on the stone surface.

“Ay…” standing up and examining the protruding object, she shuddered and hurried to catch up with the earth pony who had gone ahead. Behind him lay a piece of familiar armor, covering a few whitening bones. The remains lay flush with the edges of the flat funnel into which they had been pressed years ago by a monstrous force.

— A combat unit assigned to a patrol between a hub city and a satellite station. The number is unknown. The limiter does not respond to incoming requests. The data is marked as irrelevant to the purpose of the journey, ” came the voice of Protecta, as Lamella called the unit, unable to pronounce a long and meaningless string of numbers every time. The unit didn't seem to mind.

“Is…she was like you?” Aren't you sad to know how her path ended? - good mood, up to this point, the unicorn was gone. coming out and beings like her can perish. Such, seemingly impregnable and durable. Coming level with the armored creature , keeping to the side of the surviving wing, Lamella looked ahead, where fragments of walls could be seen drowning in greenery in the haze of the horizon. Even without a viewing tube with lenses , it was clear that they were still at least five or six days away. A couple more days and they pass by the silent village without ever reaching it.

“What’s the point of asking this thing. It has been in ruins for who knows how many years. Almost does not eat. Like a machine, and it talks the same,” Hasp muttered angrily, glancing towards the glitter on the side of the road. The wrecked wagon had been abandoned for several months. The small inhabitants of the dried lands have already managed to get inside through the broken curved glass and pull the contents of the boxes. And what could not be stolen - spoiled. One more trace remaining from those who decided to go along the stone road at their own peril and risk. Fools.

"She's not a thing, Hasp!" She is alive like you or me,” the filly stood up. Even though the protector didn't care, that wasn't an excuse for the earth pony's rudeness.

— Safety protocol includes patrolling the road. When a unit fails, the station or hub city sends a replacement. It could be me or others in the series waiting to be awakened upon request, ” Protecta suddenly replied, slowing her pace. - Project "Safe World", began with escorting ponies and unicorns along the roads between cities, stations, greenhouses and well-fortified compounds. It is our duty to protect residents and employees on their way through the Wildlands.

"Don't you feel anything... when someone doesn't come back?" - the unicorn ran a little forward, looking closely at the bare part of the muzzle in the hole in the helmet. Protecta looked ahead, and it was hard to tell if she had any feelings at all.

One unit less. One day our supply will run out, and there will be no one to make the world safer, ”she answered, after a short pause. Shifting her gaze to the filly walking from the side, the unit added. “ You could call it… a loss of efficiency.

Three times "HA"! Tell it to the environment around us! Or maybe you will answer why "Safe World" has actually become many times more dangerous? Why is it easier to get devoured in such wonderful cities than among lifeless rocks? A dried-up spring is already the reason why the whole village is forced to set off, risking everything and everyone! Unicorns ruined this world, and you were already a part of it all then,” Hasp angrily kicked a can lying on the road, which merrily jumped into a ditch.

Hasp! the unicorn turned to the stallion, pursing her lips.

— The Safe World Project is founded by the earthponies and unicorns in collaboration. The Pegasi chose a different path, discovering numerous inaccessible plateaus and the possibility of building cloud paths. In me, as in all combat units a third of an earthpony, ” the defender said dully , stopping briefly in front of the crooked sign. Faded and cracked, the sign bucked in the breeze and swayed, pointing in the direction of the ruined building. - Most of the combat units, according to the protocol, to the last ensured the evacuation of residents and employees to safe zones, remote from the place of hostilities. Over the past century and a half, only a few launches of the "Descendant" protocol have been recorded.

“It doesn’t cost you anything to lie, right, old-world spawn?” - distrust and puzzlement from the answer to his question did not leave Hasp's muzzle. He peered intently at the figure walking ahead, trying to figure out what in it, besides hooves, could be from an earth pony. Shaking himself, he pushed the dangerous thoughts aside. He had had enough of Lamella thinking that this horned thing could be safe.

— Protocol of conduct. Serve. Protect. Terminate the path of life for the safety of the personnel of the complex in case of such a need, - the unit answered dryly, stepping loudly along the stone road.

Oh great! Kill yourself, let us get off this road and go our own way,” Hasp grunted, looking at the ruins of the building. This building was not on the map. Too close to the road, no one dared to get close to him and mark on paper. And the fact that they walk on stone slabs, hoping for a relic of the past , was sheer madness. Tell someone, they will laugh and not believe.

“ There is no need for that. The owner of the station's guest pass and the descendant are safe on this path, - Protecta's answer made the unicorn, ready to resent the behavior of the satellite , laugh sincerely.

"Stop grumbling Hasp, we're taking the shortcut." Nobody threatens us, and soon we will reach the city. And by that we will get ... and what will we get? Lamella turned to one expectantly.

— Response to a request in the hub city "Vireszer. Probably the earth pony is also listed in the protocol "Descendant", but due to the unavailability of communication with the city , the streaming data center did not receive a response, - the voice of the defender, not changing intonation, boomed in the surrounding evening silence.

Yes, yes ... and we pass by the settlement where we were supposed to look. After all, it is not located next to the road, and they don’t let us turn off it, ”Hasp observed gloomily, throwing a last glance to the side where the silent village should have been.

The city looked depressing up close.

The seeds of the forest over many past years have sprouted, capturing the place abandoned by everyone, turning it into another oasis. The powerful roots of the growing trees broke through the slabs of the road, arching in wooden arches above the ground. And yet, more than one century will pass before the once solid buildings turn into small crumbs, becoming the basis for future hills. In the meantime, their walls resisted the violent growth of nature, trying to heal the wounds inflicted on the world. Feeding on cruel and violent magic, being poisoned, changing and purifying itself, plant life was drawn to the sources of water and the warm rays of the sun. The shady streets have become a cozy home for the fleshy, moisture-filled leaves of outlandish plants. Gnarled black vines stretched along the pavements and hung from empty windows, swaying bright scarlet intoxicating flowers. Every now and then, travelers had to look for a detour or follow a combat unit cutting through the vines. The jagged horn cut equally well both dry branches and balls of vines full of juice. The city was no longer the way Husp remembered it. Dusty, empty, with a lonely glass dome of the greenhouse.

In the dark gaps, the rustles of creatures that had found shelter were heard. Some unknown ball with wings and huge eyes buzzed past and disappeared into one of the poisonous shades of buds. The petals shrank and, within seconds, dried remains fell to the ground. Lamella shrugged her shoulders in disgust and hurried after the unit, which was moving confidently along the overgrown street.

— Have you been to this city, Protecta? - the filly stood next to the unit looking around thoughtfully, deciding which of the turns to choose this time.

— No. The restrictor contains records of Dr. Rubyheart Beak's journey to one of the centers located within the city, accompanied by a combat unit two-two-eight-three-five-nine, - said Protecta, heading into a dilapidated building, bulging into a crossroads with broken glass walls, pierced by overgrown trees. — The report noted significant progress in the study of healing tinctures from the juice of a fast-growing creeper, which marked the beginning of changes in the formulas of healing potions, subsequently synthesized in portable healing sectional plantations.

“You are speaking in incomprehensible words again,” Lamella jumped over another root, trying to keep up with her armored companion.

“Don’t listen to her, she will poison you with dangerous knowledge, and you will follow the path of all of your kind,” Hasp remarked, tearing off the spiked ball from the cape, clinging to the fabric with claws. Examining the tenacious plant, he tossed it aside.

“ Knowledge cannot poison. Knowledge is the legacy of those who created it all. Protocol "Descendant" is one of them, designed to help the survivors survive and retain the skills necessary to restore peace after ... after ... - the combat unit faltered and fell silent.

— What perishing, negotiate! Then? After all the destruction? And where were you when the creatures satiated with poison hunted us? And I'll tell you where - they hid in the destroyed stations! - blurted right into the muzzle of the earth pony creature.

“ The units followed protocol until the last day of evacuation, ” the defender replied dully. “ Most of them continued to protect the lives of the survivors and...

Nonsense! the earthpony blurted out, taking a quick step towards the greenhouses behind the houses. The stallion did not understand what angered him more. The firm confidence of that armored thing in her words, or the way Lamella listens to her. Trust her more than him. Behind the footsteps of the filly were not heard. Instead, he heard Lamella ask a question that made him turn around and walk back.

“Was...was it true?” — the unicorn standing in front of the combat unit was holding a crumpled and yellowed piece of paper. A torn page from an old book. Protecta stared blankly at the almost colorless picture.

Illustration from educational materials for unicorn foals. Section nine. The theme is multi-subject telekinesis. Revised and simplified edition. Basic skills are included in the mandatory initial stages of education. The information is fully consistent with the Restrictor's notes - if there was surprise in the creature's voice, then it could only be imagined. Apparently noticing the confusion on the muzzle of the filly, Protecta added: “ Why is this of interest to the descendant of Lamella?” The race was initialized correctly. Lammel. Race is a unicorn.

"Because we don't need magic!" We all live without it quietly. Planting seeds, looking for water, building houses with these hooves! Hasp shook his hoof in front of his armored muzzle. Tearing a leaf from the unicorn, he tore it into small pieces. - And you do not listen to nonsense. Is it her job to protect? So let him protect, and not tremble.

Hasp is right. I don't have magic. Magic is bad,” the drooping unicorn looked sadly at the scraps fluttering at her feet. “I shouldn't have asked about it.

The last carefully kept leaf from that book from childhood. It was high time for her to part with her childhood dream, and yet the act of her companion responded with a prick in her heart. Pieces of old paper slid along in the wind. Pitying the page, she did not immediately catch the words of Protecta.

— There is diagnostic equipment in the Vireszer hub city. A descendant of Lamell may be tested for potential reasons for the loss of magic. Horn damage. physical abnormalities. hereditary problems. mental trauma. In some cases, such as burnout, the return of abilities is possible through a course of therapy, ” the combat unit said, turning towards the glass building.

Pick up things with a horn. Get items without going down into scary and dark mines. Lamella cast a wary glance towards the pony walking towards the greenhouses, which continued to resent her act, and looked at the defender standing in anticipation.

“I…” she began in a barely audible voice. — Will I be able to pick up objects by poking them with a horn?

— Indicating the streaming direction of telekinesis. Yes. According to available records, this is possible. The nearest diagnostic center is located on the second floor of the corner building. The data archive of the "Descendant" protocol of the Vireszer hub city is also located there. A descendant of Lamell wants to be diagnosed? - Protecta looked at the unicorn, studying the storm of emotions on her muzzle. Fear, apprehension and regret, mixed with guilt and betrayal of everything that was order in life in the understanding of Hasp. She grew up listening to stories about magic. I saw how they treated those who could possess it. Having misjudged the feelings tearing the unicorn, the one leaned over and, having found the necessary gesture from the limiter's records, gently pushed the unicorn with its nose to the side. " It's... safe..."

"It's safe here baby, just stay here until mommy gets back ," the words sounded in Lamella's mind. Simultaneously with a careful touch on the side. She shuddered, momentarily lost, not knowing where she was. The memories that had been cornered in her subconscious burst out and rained down on her like an avalanche. Burning houses, cries of acquaintances. The howl of a wild beast, chained in stone scales, covered with cracks oozing lava. The crack of a collapsing building. A soft poke in the side and a touch on the neck, when the lace with the plate was on her chest. Two dark silhouettes against the backdrop of a flaring fire. An earth pony and a unicorn closing the door on her, pressing their hooves all the way to the glass. In one of them, realizing how direct it was, she always saw Hasp. But now...

"The sun protects, the moon protects"

“I want… that this doesn’t happen again,” she said distinctly, throwing one last glance in the direction of the retreating pony, who did not notice that no one was following him.

* * *

Magic! Me too…” Hasp snorted as he pushed his way through the thorny thickets. Passing the arch, from the buildings tilted towards each other, he came out into a small clearing, once the former city square. Taking a breath, he stopped, throwing off the tenacious shoots of ivy and, looking around, stepped back. The rays of the sun, finding their way between the foliage, glided in specks across the bright green carpet. The pollen swirling in them sparkled with leaning translucent columns in which the figures froze. Entangled in roots, covered with a torn blanket of moss, combat units stood and lay. Flexible vines with orange flowers hung from holes in the armor. Hasp counted a dozen and a half before he noticed among them those whom he did not expect to see here. Skripuny. Shackled by plants, rooted knee-deep in green grass, they looked with empty eyes at the ground, occasionally shuddering and exhaling clouds of golden pollen through their open jaws.

“L-lamella…we should look for another po…” Hasp began, realizing with horror that there was no one behind him. Immersed in his thoughts, he did not notice how he was left alone. — Lamella? Lamella!

Without taking his eyes off the twitching creakers, who unsuccessfully tried to break free of their bonds, he stepped back under the archway. The treacherous moss smoothed out the traces he had left. The trunks of the trees swayed, twisted and changed shape, making it impossible to understand where the earthpony came from to the square. The rustling of leaves, which seemed to be soothing before, became like whispering and quiet laughter. Hasp ran at random, trying to find his way through the lush vegetation to the place where he had last seen the unicorn.

“She went with that combat thing!” After everything we've been through, how could she do this? Sincerely rejecting magic and learning about the possibility of getting it ... it ... - the pony, out of annoyance, hit the stump with its hoof, scattering it into chips.

How could he not understand this at once. Lamella had changed even then, in the room where he was kept. He told her to run on the signal, but she remained where she was. Brushing aside the vague sensations, he chalked up her defiance to an intuitive understanding of their opponent's danger. Even proud of how she noticed the futility of the escape before him. But then... All these days she followed this armored creature. Heed her every word. Learned how to get food out of the cupboard just by bringing my record. She drank juice from cans and ate food from bags, which not so long ago were considered emergency supplies. With every day spent at that station and after, it changed. Poisoned by her own cursed unicorn blood. And now this horned creature is taking Lamella away from him.

Hasp froze at the thought.

How long does he consider her almost his daughter to be jealous of a relic of the past? The last few years? Or since the day his search party found a devastated village with a single foal surviving behind a glass door? She seemed to quickly forget what had happened, made friends with her peers, if Lamella's good-natured smiles at nicknames and ridicule can be considered a manifestation of friendship. She even knew how to read, although she hid it. Hasp didn't care, on the contrary, he found it a useful skill along the way. At what point did he relax and miss the awakening of the memory of her poisoned blood?

Groaning softly, he cradled his head in his hooves. The already middle-aged pony protected the filly, taking it with him for the first time on such a long journey. He did not allow to see what their companion had become after drinking poisonous water. He held her close to him, watching from the other side of the gorge as his partner blazed from the inside, turning into a moving bone before crumbling into tiny bright sparks and blackened bones. He lied to her about Pestle, holding back a tremor in his voice, realizing that she was not stupid, but believed him. And now his place has been taken by an emotionless creature living on an equally false idea of a safe world. A creature clad in crumpled armor with the same constrained feelings. She took Lamy from him. Little Lamy , of all whom he knew, who knew how to look at the world a little differently, as if there was always a place for good in it.

Slowly standing up, Hasp closed his eyes, letting his thoughts settle. Here is the broken thread. A little to the left you can see a familiar piece of stone. Having intercepted the bag more conveniently, he headed there with a confident step, as it seemed to him, he could correct the mistake he had made. Fix it before it's too late.

“ We believe in a safe world for our descendants, ” came a voice from the side, causing Hasp to flinch and listen. The sounding phrase was quiet, a little sad and interrupted by the same words.

" We believe in Ekvi's healing, " a higher, thinner voice echoed.

“ Any mistake can be corrected… as long as you have life, ” a hoarse voice sounded from very close by.

Who is there? – the earthpony parted the thickets, finding himself on a small patch of a courtyard covered with an even carpet of flowers and lush grass. In the center, covered with moss and thin ivy stems, rose a fountain of white stone. Pure clear water flowed from four grooves, falling with a splash into a bowl where water flowers swayed.

“ Time will heal the wounds of the earth... time will heal the wounds of hearts... we did everything in our power and with the thought of it... We leave a part of ourselves in every leaf and flower of this place, ” a voice was heard near the fountain and Gazing at the overgrown figure, Hasp swallowed, dropping his bag to the ground and stepping closer. Repeating the same phrases over and over again, the earthponies surrounded the plant-covered remains. Sitting on stone pedestals, standing leaning against the fountain, lying, as if deciding to take a break from business in the flowerbeds overgrown with ivy. Bright flowers swayed in empty eyes. And only tiny spheres on thin chains continued to flicker, illuminating the white lattice of ribs with cold light, continuing to repeat the last words over and over again.

With every drop that flows into our bodies, we give up our last days for the full life of millennia after us . Every last breath will become part of the sprouts that heal Ekvi's burning scars, ”the unicorn standing above the others rang out from the ball. Around the twisted horn spiraled a thin stem with bright red petals hiding sharp thorns. — I drink this vial, with the belief that one day, the dried up and burned world will once again be able to feed those who live in it. Like many others who have received... not so important... The Great Forest that once perished will begin its life through us. In the poisoned cities... by the poisoned lakes... in the wounds from the cores of the shells of the guns, trees will rise everywhere, cleansing the world from the primitive magic of the Ancients. From their spilled blood left on our hooves. Forgive us...

Holding his breath, Hasp stared at the plant-supported remains of the unicorn, hardly comprehending what he was hearing. Oases appearing as patches on dry land. Not so long ago in this city there was only one surviving greenhouse, which gave the first seeds. Now the city was being devoured by plants, crushing the remains of buildings, spreading and trying to conquer dry lands, sticking their roots to the pipes with water lying below. Frightened by his own guess, he rushed to the distant figures standing at the edge of the courtyard in still almost intact capes and with bags thrown at their feet.

Not. No. No... What have you done... - the stallion whispered softly, peering into the familiar features covered with young shoots and rough bark. Feeling his bag among the lancet leaves, he picked it up and dragged it to the fountain. Among the uncomplicated and worn-out belongings, Hasp found a tightly rolled bottle, with a few leaves inside. They remained dry, and after a couple of blows to the bottom, they fell into the hooves of the earthponies. Doubts were dispelled from the first lines of familiar handwriting. Among the voices of long-gone ponies, almost all the inhabitants of the silent settlement stood in this frightening garden...

Gritting his teeth, Hasp read the lines, forgetting everything, plunging into the tragedy of bygone days:

“ I don’t hope that anyone will find us, if at all. The city gave seeds, but less and less every month. We failed to patch the water supply system and the fifth from the sixth greenhouse died. A few years ago, a hurricane flew in and broke the glass three more.The Wasteland seeped into the streets with it came the creatures of wild magic.The nightmarish creatures weaved their webs between the walls of the houses, making the streets death traps.A month passed.The ninth greenhouse withered, and we could not revive it.In search of a solution, we searched the entire city and found much.Other villages would reproach us for lack of firmness of conviction...but what choice did we have?However strong was our desire to leave the ruins, we could not do without them.The city was dying, and its gardens were becoming sand. And not only we died with it, but also all those who with difficulty overcame a dangerous path for the sake of seeds.

We... found something. Among the collapsed houses, in a small square, there is a forgotten fountain surrounded by overgrown figures. The burning balls on chains repeated the same phrases uttered by their owners during their lifetime. They were all covered in grass. Dried up, almost dead. At their hooves we found boxes with vials. And records. Lots of entries. It took me a long time to read them and make a map of the city... I'll put it in a bottle if I need to find the building..."

Hasp turned over the second sheet, skipping the blurred passage, and began to read on the elder's last notes:

"Several of us will escort the foals to the second village to the south. We will give them all the water and food left in their stores for the journey. The rest ... they will remain here. Vials. One for each. According to the records found, they contain the possibility resurrect the Great Forest. Cleanse the Aqui from the blood of the origins of the world. I don't know what they mean by that. They, who came here before us, believed in redemption. We believe in hope. As I write these lines, I drink dark liquid from a vial. Those who found this note, know that in every flower and seed of this city there is a particle not only of us, but of all who wished to correct their mistake. Whether he was a unicorn or a pony. Everyone has the same..."

A piece of paper was torn off. Having rolled up the note into a tube, Hasp returned it to the bottle along with the map, remembering the location of the desired houses and their signs. After corking the bottle, he carefully placed it before the hooves of the elder, frozen with a weary smile. The verdant forest around ceased to seem to him a joyful and calm place. Every branch, every bush sticking up against the walls, now reminded him of the frozen figures who gave their lives for the healing power of plants that heal a world crippled by battle. Beyond the woven vines that lined the street, Hasp spotted a slowly moving figure.

War creature? How are you... Defender? Hey, where's Lamella? he shouted as he walked, breaking through the succulent stems, trying not to miss the familiar figure. Confused in the shoots, stumbling several times over the roots, he ran after him. - You can't hear me, can you? Where are you doing Lamellu? Why aren't you with her?

Almost catching up with her, the earthpony came to an abrupt halt, clutching at a leaning tree trunk. The armored body of the one he was chasing was partially covered with outgrowths of bright scarlet crystals that had pierced through strong armor and seemed to be growing directly from a powerful body. It wasn't her.

“ All of them are not carriers of life… I brought them to this city and they all ceased to be carriers of… life… I failed to… fulfill the protection directive… They ceased to be carriers of life. My limiter is damaged. Requires...requires replacement...restrictor. There is no way to determine the status ... - the creature muttered, turning its burgundy muzzle in his direction. Shards of crystals fell from the corner of her mouth, turning into a weightless reddish mist. “ Combat unit five-five-eight-three... three... nine-eleven-six. The starting point is the Rainbow Falls hub city. Last report. If someone hears me. Nodal city... nodal... Vireszer city. State. permanent residents. Zero. Staff. Zero. Degree of danger. No way to identify.

Backing away from the muttering and oddly twitching creature, Hasp felt a chill run down his spine. The creature looked straight at him, slowly curling its chapped lips into a smile.

An error has been noted. The bearer of life. The list of directives is corrupted. Definition protocol. Damaged. Searching for a solution… ” The crippled unit spread its tattered wings with missing joints. - A solution has been found. The error must be corrected...

“Unicorn magic is in my rump,” Hasp grunted, spinning in place and galloping, feeling the heavy trembling of the earth behind him.

* * *

In the twilight of the abandoned hall, the footsteps of a unicorn were heard with a slight echo, accompanied by a combat unit, holding a little ahead. Moss stretching towards dampness and twilight stretched in fluffy islands from the walls along the floor, absorbing overturned low chairs. The rack, cut in half, rose like a rusting frame amidst a heap of jumbled crates with unfamiliar markings. All around you could see traces of flight almost erased by time and plants. Empty vials of healing potion rolled loudly on the floor, hit by hooves. Carts loaded with dull, translucent metal-rimmed containers stood, gradually becoming covered with the ubiquitous bindweed.

Nodal city "Vireszer". Welcome to... the research center... to study the properties of the flora of the world of Eque. Our centers are dedicated to the development of compact healing agents for all occasions. Autonomous air purification systems for underground complexes of any population. Wide range of landscaping options for homes. We also offer to get acquainted with ... with ... - the voice from the split ball in the center of the hall trembled and fell silent, allowing the unicorn, who shuddered in surprise, to pass by. As soon as she and the unit climbed the stairs, the voice began to read the recorded phrases again, stuttering and pausing.

The first floor met them with the same reigning emptiness. Knocked out or open doors, behind which the unicorn saw the same picture of a place long ago abandoned by everyone. Collapsed tables, low chairs overgrown with vines, overturned shelves from which the moisture-loving stalks of holly plants hung down. Having caught up with the combat unit that had stopped near the next ball, the unicorn heard a stuttering voice.

For an extended version of the excursion, place your ID card on the green circle. For up-to-date information... on the formation... use the identification card on the yellow circle. Trouble... there are no currently active employees in the building. For medical assistance, place your ID card on the red circle and follow... along... the line on the floor. Malfunctions... there are no currently active members of the medical staff in the section for providing... niya... medical care. Sorry for the… inconvenience. ” The green orb looked like it had been frantically hit for several days in a row. The entire cloudy surface was covered with small holes, chips and a network of cracks. Immediately behind him, in the corridor, blocking the passage with yellowed ribs, lay the skeleton of a huge reptile, clutching crumpled armor with a whitening bone inside until its last breath. Protecta silently examined the numbers carved into the metal. The device on her hip clicked as she stretched out a healthy wing towards the large doors.

“ The diagnostic section is in that wing of the building, ” she said, inviting them to follow her. They walked across the rickety floor, and Lamella surveyed the surroundings of the building. There were similar glass doors in her village. More precisely, in the only surviving house, if one could call it that, a pile of fragments gradually overgrown with grass, partially leaving floors underground. Among the flimsy buildings of everything that came under the hoof, the old building stood out for the presence of rare windows and such doors. And basically they lived there, like her, who had a horn.

Following along the almost worn out red stripe on the floor, they climbed the next staircase to the floor above, finding themselves in a wide long corridor with huge floor-to-ceiling windows. In the light filtering through the glass, green with small growth, giving everything a greenish tint, Lamella met them more and more often.

Pony.

Unicorns.

Lying on the floor in an attempt to crawl to the exit. Huddled in the corners, in an unsuccessful attempt to hide from something. Whitening bones twined around fresh stems and withered vines of unfamiliar plants. Steps awakened smooth luminous stones in the erasers, snatching from the semi-darkness another tragic scene of the past. The frightening corridor was filled with the sweet scent of flowers.

“Like a mud-covered jar,” she said aloud, noticing another wide-open sliding door. A draft rolled through the spacious hall scraps of paper sheets torn from books that had fallen from the shelves. Yellowed rectangles flew around the room, resembling flocks of frightened birds, flashing bright spots in the rays of the sun breaking through the gaps in the walls. Stepping on something soft and springy, Lamella picked up a book in a hardened cover, with metal inserts and dull, uncut stones. The lock clicked, and the paper fell out of the binding like dust, which had once been sheets that got wet more than once during the rain and dried in the sun. Carefully putting the find back on the floor, the unicorn hurried after the defender, not noticing how a translucent pony figure woven from the air, after taking a few steps, stopped at the threshold. With sadness, looking around with translucent eyes, rippled turning squares, she tried to pick up the remains of the book lying on the floor with her incorporeal hooves. Frozen, she pressed a hoof to her forehead and, shaking her head, crumbled into tiny sparks.

In the diagnostics sector, chaos reigned in the last hours of panic, turning into despair and a sense of hopelessness. The ubiquitous vines tangled with black hoses that snaked across the floor and dived into torn boxes. Vials of healing potions were hastily scattered around the cracked cabinets, green with moss. Judging by the cloudy color, most of them have long lost their properties.

“We came here for nothing. Everything is destroyed here,” Lamella said, realizing late that the hope of fulfilling an obsessive childhood dream did not even have a chance. There on the street, the words of the defender planted in her a seed of doubt in the chosen path. Out of annoyance, she kicked a bottle that turned up under her foot, sending it flying across the entire hall. The bubble clicked on the panel and bounced off towards the transparent partitions of thin, cracked crystal. There, separated by partitions, stood spindle-shaped beds, dimly illuminated by the same whitish light, diluted with shades of dark green traces of dampness. “We need to find Hasp, get the seeds, and leave this place. I... don't want to stay here.

Without listening to her, the unit moved to the nearest surviving panel, resting its hooves on it. A cylinder protruding from the armor on the leg entered the groove, draining its contents through a dozen thin tubes.

— Protocol for direct request to the streaming data processing center from the Vireszer hub city limiters. Search for data by pattern. Priority. Protocol "Descendant," she said, bringing to life a few remaining crystal plates. Incomprehensible symbols, circles and lines slithered under the green coating, weaving into a pattern that made the unicorn sick. Nearby, already familiar signs quickly slid from top to bottom, but she did not have time to read them all.

“ Sample analysis completed, ” a booming voice rumbled through the hall, forcing the unicorn to flatten its ears and look around. The voice sounded from all directions, but without a doubt, its source was a rickety column of a cracked stele of purple crystal, compressed in several places with steel hoops. With each spoken word, light flashed in the cracks, running from the base to the pointed tip and slowly fading away. — Due to the quarantine regime in the city, the data cannot be transferred. I repeat. Due to the quarantine regime in the city, the data cannot be... Error. All personnel have been ordered to activate Protocol Drain. The city is under massive attack. All personnel have been ordered to activate Protocol "Drain"... Error... Redundant power supplies connected. Estimated power is sixty-two percent and falling...

Is the city under attack? Right now? But where? the almond hoof gently touched the figure frozen in armor, looking at the panels burning with symbols. The pupil of the eye visible through the gap in the helmet trembled as it glided over the running lines. The combat unit plunged into them and did not hear anything. — Protect? Um... unit number two-two-eight-eleven-three-six-seven, what's going on in the city? Did you find Hasp on the lists? What is that thing in the center of the room? Why don't you answer?

Recording date. Two thousand and eighty-ninth year since the launch of the "Safe World" project. The city lives in the past. These entries are outdated. There is no reason to worry, a descendant of Lamel. The city has survived, ” the combat unit said, looking up from the screen. She moved the flickering signs on the panel with her hoof, and turned at the sound of the spindly capsule opening. The structure of an inverted stand with four hoof holes turned over, straightened up and sank to the floor next to a slightly tilted bed. – To make a diagnosis and prescribe the appropriate treatment result, insert your identification card into the capsule panel and position the hooves according to the image on the panel.

"Can this thing fix my horn?" Swallowing the bitterness that rose in her throat, Lamella said, carefully running her hoof over the surface covered with soft rectangles. Inside the device was soft. The outlandish material stuck a little to the hoof, but did not unravel like so much else in this abandoned place. Now that she was so close to the machine, a sticky fear touched her heart. The distrust and suspicion that had almost awakened in her head gave way to the naive desire of her inner colt holding a battered picture book. Objects fly in the glow of her horn. This image drove away the thought of leaving this place as soon as possible.

As if sensing her misgivings, the unit moved closer.

Explanation of the steps of the procedure in accordance with the subparagraph of the protocol "Descendant". During the examination, the limbs will be temporarily fixed, and the body will be positioned so that the diagnostic system has full access to all potentially problematic areas. In the event of a growing feeling of anxiety, exhale slowly... and press the circle with your hoof. If the sensation becomes unpleasant... touch the image of the flower. In the case of a diagnosis of a representative of the unicorn race, a lock blocking magic will be applied. The feeling of numbness is considered normal and will disappear within a few minutes after the diagnosis is completed. If necessary, interrupt the diagnosis or treatment... you should press your hoof to the scarlet crosshair and hold it for at least five heartbeats, ” the defender slowly said, looking down at the confused unicorn. Is everything in the instructions for the steps of the procedure clear?

“I-I see… First the hooves here, then they… oops!” - as soon as the last hoof stood on the indicated recess, her legs squeezed soft hoops. The structure shuddered, lifted the filly up and suddenly turned it over on its back. - Let me go! Vacation...

The soft inner lining of the mechanism pressed against her back. Eyes wide with fright, Lamella peered up at the ceiling, feeling her hooves clamped in rings buckle under the pressure of the stand, forcing her into the desired position for the device. Taking a slow breath in and out, she tried to convince herself that everything was fine. The back of her head felt the softness of the lining trying to conform to the shape of her body. Something tightened around the base of her horn and gently pushed her head back. The first streak of bright blue light slowly slid across the unicorn, causing her to close her eyes.

— Primary analysis. Race. Unicorn. General state. Satisfactorily. Traces of antidote found. Found damage caused by a lack of vitamins. A slight degree of dependence on tone-supporting drinks was found. A damage to the base of the horn has been found, ” the voice monotonously read out the results of the diagnostics, the timbre of which made me want to sleep and luxuriate in this unusually soft bed.

“Is my log…broken?” she asked cautiously, closing her eyes again against the streak of light. The right hoof got free. Strings of symbols and lines ran across the hood of cloudy glass that covered the couch. I can't read what's written here...

Lamella's voice sounded plaintively, frustrated by her inability to understand the inscriptions.

Request received. The voice method of displaying results is used. Damage to the base of the horn is caused by a punctate fracture of the internal nervous structure, with no visible damage to the external bone tissue. Assumption. The injury could have been deliberately inflicted at an early age, ” the voice read out the data without any emotion, at the same time displaying on the glass an image of the skull of a unicorn foal, with dark marks in the lower part of the twisted horn. — Preparations for damage removal will be started in one cycle.

Unicorns from other villages.

Instead of horns, small stumps on the forehead. They look after her with a doomed look. There is sadness in the eyes of the earthpony parents as they hold the horned foal close to them. In the village of Khaspa, she was accepted for who she was. They were better treated in the village. They did not consider it right what they did in other places. Because they...

"It's better for her, dear."

The voice of a stallion. A voice from almost forgotten memories. So familiar and warm. Sounding anxious.

"We can always leave like the others did. Think! We can go back. Everyone thinks those places are cursed, why don't we go back then?"

The voice of a filly. A native voice singing a lullaby at bedtime about a golden pony in the sky during the day and her silver sister at night.

"What if the map doesn't work anymore? What if the protocols we managed to keep during our travels were erased? All the complexes were attacked. That's it. The station... a door, leaving his colleagues to certain death. He had no choice, otherwise this nightmarish mixture of volatile negator and evaporating blood of the Ancients would have poisoned us all. "

The stallion spoke incomprehensible words and, sensing that she woke up, switched to a whisper. Quiet footsteps sounded nearby.

"Did we wake you up, Lamy? Sleep baby, it's okay. We're there."

A strong and velvety voice sounded over Lamella's head. Similar to the voice of Hasp. Something pressed hard on her horn. Stronger than when they lulled her, poking at the elastic tip with a hoof.

"It's better for you. You'll understand when you grow up."

A short flash of pain crackled across her forehead and threw her into the darkness of unconsciousness. The last thing she felt was drops falling on her muzzle. Salty drops on her lips.

* * *

From a blow with a shoulder, the green glass shattered into small fragments, showering the earth pony with small sparkling beads. Husp, crashing into the window at full speed, rolled across the floor covered with debris and dry stems, knocking over several rickety tables. Barely restraining himself from screaming, he slid behind the massive counter, feeling a slurry of crushed mushrooms run down his back.

"Damn, damn, damn ," Hasp whispered under his breath, a hoof that smelled of freshly crushed grass clamped over his mouth. Following him, widening the hole with a wave of his spiked tail, a creature exhaling scarlet clouds entered the tilted building.

The error ... must be eliminated. The bearer of life. Error , - the tattered and crippled wing brushed off the liana that fell from above from the armor. From the sparkling corners of the lips, sparkling red grains fell again. The creature in crippled armor slowly turned its head from side to side, looking around, trying to find a elusive target among the reigning chaos. The failing limiter, with difficulty turning the gears covered with scarlet crystals, froze and started working again. From this, the carrier of life, indicated by the error, appeared and disappeared from the recognition system, confusing the combat unit poisoned by wild magic. Metal-clad hooves stepped forward and crushed the carving, covered in faded and cracked lacquer. A loud crunch swept through the hall, subsiding with a booming echo in the distant corridors.

Peering into a tiny fragment of a mirror on the floor, Hasp involuntarily envied the survivability of combat units. With some, by the way, chasing him, calling him "the bearer of life" , went far beyond the line crossed by the creakers. Scarlet crystals sprouted not only on the body, but also partially pierced the armor plates, and this was a very bad sign. Worse only exhaled flying dust. And yet she moved, and moved faster than those who had lost their mind, the ability to speak clearly and think the same way. Armor, sharpened horn and powerful hooves, in turn, turned her into a much more dangerous opponent. Remembering the meeting with the combat unit, Hasp doubted that this time all the damage would be restored to him by unknown unicorn magic.

The footsteps and the creaking of blades on the floor began to fade away. Blocking the way to the exit, the creature began to study the most obvious of them. Side wide corridor with a bunch of doors. Methodically disembarking each of them, she sighed hoarsely, not revealing her target. On the ninth door, Hasp slowly crawled in the other direction, to an inconspicuous open door of a technical manhole, from which protruded harnesses and some incomprehensible details that had time to rust beyond recognition from the damp air.

"The sun protects, the moon protects"

He remembered the words that Lamella had uttered more than once in a low voice. He was always surprised by him, and even once asked her directly, to which she said that her parents said so. Words that drive away trouble and failure.

“It’s time to check it out,” the stallion remarked bitterly, sliding down the steep stairs and hiding, hearing how the steps again became closer, but now they sounded already above his head. Whatever the creature listened for was not scent, keen sight, or hearing. Although he did not want to check the latter. A lid slammed overhead, hit by a tail, and pieces of sheared metal fell past the ponies. Slowly, pulling the bag of supplies behind him and enjoying the strong, albeit shabby cape, he crawled along the narrow passage.

Even here the roots and stems of plants twisted. The leaves stretching towards the shimmering stones tickled his nose, prevented him from examining the signs, which turned out to be useless for verification, because Hasp did not know the meaning of the inscriptions. At one of the turns, he came across a bag devoured by moss, in which he found a rather weighty and almost complete instrument. Whether it was for twisting or hammering something, Hasp didn't care. Much more important is the ability to pick out from its place the grate blocking the path, someone prudently locked up. After moving a little and taking breaks when a noise like footsteps reached his ears, he got out into a dusty corridor where the plants had not yet reached. Picking up a bag that had been dropped on the floor and a new weapon for protection, not very comfortable in his teeth and leaving a bitter aftertaste from the tape of the handle, the pony went to where he thought there was another exit from the building. With the thing on his tail, and he didn't believe in luck getting rid of it so quickly, looking for Lamella was a bad idea. The image of the elder and the words of the creature did not come out of my head. Who did she bring? Elder? Or someone before him? Was she one of the creatures that attacked the city?

“ They've all lost their minds. This is not a cure, this is certain death. The head of self-sufficient greenhouse research, Fleur Tox In, is not normal. The idea of redemption embraced her entirely. Sabotage... evacuation sabotage. An attempt to tidy up all the resources. She even tried to get combat units on her side. Even though she didn't succeed. But she signed the verdict to everyone who believed her. This city... is becoming a trap, and no one can stop it. Why didn’t they listen… ” was quietly heard from the side ajar door. There were impact marks and black marks on the metal. The wall opposite was painted with a pattern of soot, in which several thick nails stuck out. A broken toolbox left a long mark on the floor. He was kicked hard to the side, trying to hit someone. Hasp opened the door carefully and stared at the piled furniture. Behind her, in the corner next to an empty cupboard of food, similar to those seen recently, lay a withered figure, holding in its hooves the already familiar shimmering ball. They took the vials. They took it, thinking that it would save others. She lied to everyone about the right to refuse. Drain Protocol... They've all lost their minds... it's... not a cure... Stay away from the diagnostic center. There...

The voice died away and began to repeat the same words again.

Fuck you! - the pony raised its hoof in his hearts, but stopped himself in time, remembering that he was not alone in the building. If only Lamella hadn't gone there. In this city, everything has sprouted through, maybe they will not get to this center, or they will not find it. A combat unit, an omniscient armored thing. She will definitely find the center. - What to do...

The pony's gaze caught on a battered plank with a pattern resembling a map. Of all the inscriptions, he could only make out "exit" and a few more words indicating passages to streets and other buildings. If he remembered the elder's map correctly, then he needed to go to other houses. Which means...

“I hate stairs,” he said, stopping in front of the stairs leading up. Even though they were flat and wide, it didn't make climbing easy. The very first breach almost put an end to this undertaking. Pressing sideways into the wall, involuntarily remembering the bleating mountain dwellers, he cautiously stepped with his hooves over the debris left from the steps, hoping that the bag would not slip and outweigh him. Flying several flights down did not smile at him. The rusted door opened after a few kicks on the locking mechanism, creaking plaintively and sneezing fine red dust at it.

Hasp swallowed as he saw the frozen, poisoned creature in front of him. The mechanism on its side creaked vilely.

“ The error has been found ... ” she had not had time to finish the phrase, as the door slammed shut in front of her from the blow of hooves. With a groan, Husp clung to the lever and hung on it with all his weight, sinking the lock's tongues back into the recesses. The sharp tip of the horn cut a long gap, nearly catching his shoulder, leaving a ragged cut in his ear. The steel barrier arched, but the stallion did not look back.

A step and another, he ran upstairs, changing plans as he went. The map hung before his eyes, but the marked turns and doors were either missing or led to a dead end. Hasp, trying not to panic, did not immediately realize that each floor was not necessarily similar to the previous one and the location of the corridors could change. But it was too late to correct this omission. Floors below, the creature coped with the door and a piece of metal, torn from its hinges, fell down, rolling through the building with a booming ringing. Faced with the failure of a completely collapsed staircase, the stallion pushed another box aside. A jump, and he rolled into the side passage, pressing against the wall. Armored hooves rumbled past, turning in the direction where the wooden object rolled, crumbling. Still, it's a rumor. Maybe not as sharp as the inhabitants of the desert lands, but still. Picking up a small pebble, Hasp threw it into the opening to the side of him. The footsteps stopped and then broke again. The creature chasing him at a twitchy trot set off to the side from where he heard a few clicks of a stone bouncing on the floor.

A melodious voice sounded, trying to convey extremely important information to visitors, but in the middle of a phrase it was interrupted by a booming blow and a lingering rattle. Hasp crawled towards the dark doors, beyond which black vines swayed and torn twisted cables bristling with broken cords. Behind him was a bag with a broken belt, saving Hasp from being hit by a blade. When the doors were a few steps away, the side door rustled and quietly opened. Simultaneously with the dimly lit pebble on the bracelet.

“What the…” he whispered in a strangled voice, glancing down the corridor. Whatever the talking device was, the thing had almost done with it and was now returning. Of all the paths, the door that opened seemed the safest. The pony rolling over the threshold felt the door leaf close, returning from the groove in the wall where it had slid before. There was a quiet click of locks and another, more solid door closed the previous one. Behind them came the sound of footsteps and the scraping sound of a hoof testing the barrier.

Getting used to the twilight, the pony looked around, seeing dozens of boxes and small bags with inscriptions and images of berries, fruits and vegetables. And judging by the order in which the boxes stood, there had never been anyone here before him.

“ Welcome to the greenhouse flora archive. Here you can find what you need for your garden. For convenience, use categories from decorative to food or related if you prefer a balanced greenhouse content. Have a nice day, Viresceres city guest pass user," a low voice rang out over the stallion's head, barely able to keep from screaming. - Your pass is valid. Five days. Three hours, three o'clock. Ten minutes. Please, if you need to extend the pass, please contact the staff of the registration block.

“I hope I don’t stay in this city for so long,” the pony snorted, looking at the translucent boxes and slightly wrinkled bags. Water was dripping from the corner of the ceiling, and in the far corner the seeds had either deteriorated or germinated, and now they were earing from their storage with greenish shoots. Others were intact. Throwing aside flowers and other seeds labeled "decorative" , Hasp stacked everything that looked like food in the picture. And the juicier and larger the promised result, the more willingly he shoved them into the pockets of his cape until the place in them ran out. When he was about to part with some of the booty, at the very bottom under the boxes, he came across a bag with an outlandish symbol in the form of a heart in a frame of four corners. Mostly spent healing potions clinked inside. Turbid bubbles foamed or even leaked under the cork, ceasing to be airtight. Leaving a few that retained color and a hint of transparency, he poured the prey into the bag he found.

There is nothing left. To fasten the belts, obviously designed for a larger stallion than he and ...

The door remained closed no matter how many times he waved his hoof and bracelet at her. He tried to quietly persuade her to open up and even clapped his hoof on the milky-matte stone in the wall, at a height of two of his height, as a result, he almost fell off the rusty folding ladder. And when all options were over, a bright slit of light from outside cut through the doors. With a creak, stuck in half, the sash was cut by a jagged horn-blade ...

“ Error… ” came a hoarse voice from outside the door, causing Hasp's chest to go cold and his fur to rise on end. - Discovered...

Burd in your mane and a log in your croup !! Get off me, you crazy bastard! The bottom of the door arched, cracked, shattered into dust of peeling paint, and fell to the floor. The ringing of fasteners, two clicks of locks and an abandoned bag, rustling on the floor, slipped between the hooves of a creature stuck like a horn in the doorway.

A desperate jerk that gave off pain in his side.

A kick of a powerful hoof to the floor where his head had been seconds ago. The mane was powdered with crumbled tiles. A missed tail lashed nearby, slashing a few more holes in the floor with the blades.

Rolling over his back and getting off with scratches, Hasp tore the tool from his belt with his teeth and threw it at the creature. A deafening blow hit the thigh, knocking out a sheaf of sparks and a fiery bright scarlet cloud from the rounded disk. The creature swayed and momentarily lost its balance. A moment long enough to grab the bag and rush away from danger.

“You can’t win, run. If you can’t run, hide. And don’t let it be impossible to run away and hide ,” the mentor told him, who never returned from his last journey. These words surfaced in the memory of the running stallion, feeling the approaching heavy stomp with his back.

Door. Another door. Opening sashes of the next move from the corridor that seems to be a dead end and...

The bright sun for a moment blinded the man who found himself on the terrace overgrown with greenery. The rotten railing barely supported his weight, creaking and buckling, held together only by the stems of the ubiquitous vines. On the left, a strong cable, driven into the wall by a bracket, stretched somewhere down, giving out the traces of the seekers who had been here. A green, faded rag in the corner. Good sign. Safe way sign.

“Happy stay, Error.” Grinning in a smile, Hasp threw the metal loop of the bag over the cable, pulling to check. Feeling the fragments of the glass door flying past him with his skin, he pushed off and slid down. Something flexible and dangerous slithered beside him, giving off a burning pain in his thigh and side, but left behind. The creature, which exhaled a scarlet cloud, rapidly moved away from the descending pony.

But in return, the earth was approaching him, the impact of which knocked out the remnants of the spirit from him.

“Just a little more and I’ll probably regret tearing up that picture, Lamy ...” he croaked, rolling over onto his side. Pulling the bolt out of the loop holding the cable with the power of thought was not such a bad idea. Feeling something wet spreading under him, he reached for the bolt more and more than the tightening cable. A little more ... The very edge of the hoof. " Shut up, you bastard...

Bolt yelped and flew away.

The tip of the makeshift cable car flew up a kite and disappeared from view. Behind the back of the lying pony, there was a rattle of a broken grate that closed some kind of shaft and the roar of falling metal beams and rods. Lips pressed against the flask trembling in the hooves, feeling the pain dull with each sip. Feeling for the miraculously unopened bag and the bent steel bar, Hasp staggered forward. He had another unfinished business.

* * *

Treatment completed. Muscle relaxants were introduced into the blood circulation system. Patient number one thousand five hundred and seven. According to the "Drainage" protocol, the "Green World" drug will be administered in twenty-one cycles. I repeat. According to protocol Drainage, the Green World drug will be… ” The voice trailed off as a heavy hoof slowly moved the symbol aside, shining above the surface of the panel. About a dozen crystalline plates turned into a haze, and lit up with signs sliding one after another. An image of a disheveled unicorn unfolded in the middle. With a jerk, it began to move, and an excited voice was heard along with it.

They want redemption! Everyone wants redemption! Forget about the past, erase it, abandon ourselves, flee to the burning poisoned lands where there is nothing to eat and drink. Where there is nowhere to sleep. Cultivate guilt and fear. They listen to the cries of the useless crowd of those who until recently demanded to look for any way to save their lives and rid them of the monsters of Tartarus! Stupid and mediocre! Do they want redemption? They'll get it for everyone! With no exceptions. Hornless, horned, winged traitors, hiding in the clouds, considering themselves safe. As the sky burned, they were thrown onto sun-drenched plateaus, back to their mountain cloud transformation stations. So where are their clouds? - the filly looked from the screen with a look that had lost everything in her life and therefore decided to finally destroy everything. She wiped off a thread of saliva dripping from her lips and slammed her hoof in front of her. “ The Drain will get to them too. Will get to all the wounds inherited by the world Eque. To everyone! Seeds of the Great Forest, primal magic and our knowledge are what will heal the Badlands. They will devour the poison, and all those who created it at the same time. The world is full of leaves. The world is full of greenery! Living world! I swear on my horn, it will be fine. Everyone will become a seed from which a new Eque will rise. Forgetting about the battle, forgetting about the Ancients, forgetting about all of us who have done so much irreparable things... "Drainage"... Activate the protocol in all the greenhouses of all the key cities of Ekvi. Remove undo option. Introduce the procedure for introducing the "Green World" drug as mandatory in all diagnostic centers. With you was...

An armored hoof slid across the panel, silencing the recording. Behind him, the voice from the capsule slowly counted cycles. On the crystal screen, the image of the unicorn trembled. She silently shouted something, waving a dark vial in front of her. Tearing off a small ball on a chain from her neck, she tossed it aside, laughing silently.

— Request. The condition of Lamell’s descendant after the introduction of the drug “Green World,” the combat unit said evenly and calmly, but every now and then cast a glance at the unicorn, shuddering in a dream, covered with a glass cap.

Transformation. Inclusion in the general ecosystem of the nodal city "Virescere," the voice still answered dully, and the stele of the crystal flared up with a scattering of short flashes.

— Request. The descendant of Lamell will retain the status of a carrier of life after the procedure of the "Drainage" protocol, - the unit peered into the running lines, trying to find the right one among the issued data. The limiter on her hip clicked and moved the arrows, stopping at the symbol with a flash of yellow light. Behind him, another one caught fire.

“ The answer is no. ” The panel flickered and became covered with blurry images of the city's inhabitants. Bodies that have fallen anywhere, entwined with roots and shoots with leaves. Flowers moving in the wind. Spots of young shoots spreading to the sides, becoming stronger and more aggressive every day. The images followed each other until the screen went dark. Only the symbols changed, counting not days, but months and years.

— Request. Forced cancellation of the "Drainage" protocol. Cause. Implementation of the priority protocol "Descendant" - pressing with a hoof on the notch near the stove, she lifted the cylinder up and pressed the limiter against its cut side surface. A click was heard and the three legs of the connector grabbed the edge of the device. - Cancel option. Direct connection through the combat model of the limiter. Directive seventy-six "A", execution under the terms of an emergency threatening a resident, employee or temporary employee of the Virescere hub city satellite station.

Request received. Request denied. The cancel option is disabled. Protocol "Drain" will be enforced in ten cycles, " the voice replied calmly, and the thigh of the unit burned with a discharge. The mechanism shuddered and whirred with spinning gears inside its filling. The world around the unit faded ...

"What will you do if you are given freedom of choice?"

She was surrounded by the dark walls of an underground complex. Familiar outlines of angular shapes. Durable material capable of withstanding significant column loads. And a black flat panel that looks like a table in the center. The question sounded from everywhere, streamed around and resonated within, forcing the armored creature to turn around and seek its source with trembling ears.

— Serve. Protect. Terminate the path of life for the safety of the personnel of the complex, if there is a direct need for this, standing up straight, she responded, looking straight ahead. The silence that filled the room was broken only by her barely audible breathing.

"What will you do if you are given freedom of choice?"

“ Protocol Drainage will be enforced in nine and eight tenths of the cycle. Cancellation of running processes is impossible, ” along with a painful prick in the thigh, a mechanical voice came from afar. through a thick wall. What was said was distracting, disturbing. "Drainage" was something important. Much more important than this question, which seems to be a mere formality. The protocols are mandatory. Protocols cannot conflict. Protocol...

"What. You. Will. do if. You. Are. Given the freedom... of choice?"

In front of the frozen unit, a huge figure appeared in a flash, blocking the black panel. After taking a few steps, she stood directly opposite, looking slightly from above. Sturdy armor made of steel plates fitted to the body. The quiet rustle of belts and segmented reinforced bands. From the shadow of a helmet slightly covering the muzzle, with a hinged part in the jaw area, prickly and attentive eyes looked at her. Massive wings swung open at the sides, flashing small, durable scales in an invisible light source.

"What will you do if you are given the freedom to choose? Remain a tool, a weapon , the result of a fusion of the best of the kind of unicorns and ponies, held together by the burning blood of the Ancients. Or become something more that even they cannot imagine ? Become one of the free ...become... Equirido ?"

Standing in front of her, she poked a unit in the chest with a disembodied hoof. And she felt it. I felt it as part of a memory that burned into my memory. Just as strong and palpable through a solid chest plate. And with him came a feeling not of fear, but ... of an incomprehensible feeling.

— Serve. Protect. Terminate the path of life for the safety of the complex personnel, if it is absolutely necessary, ” she repeated, noticing how the ghostly hoof lowered and the questioner's eyes hardened. Metal crunched, the owner of the commanding voice turned her head to the side and sighed.

"The self-will test is complete. Unit two-two-eight-eleven-three-six-seven is ready to carry out its assigned tasks... unfortunately . "

“ I… don’t know what I’m going to do… ” the calmness of the combat unit was pierced. The limiter crackled, flashing in a shower of red symbols. Sneezing jets of orange smoke from the cracks, he moved the arrows to their original position. The figure clad in steel plates trembled and dissolved along with the walls of the complex. Out of the haze of his returning vision, the outlines of the surrounding diagnostic center hall appeared. From the cylinder of the direct connection to the device on the thigh, steaming crystal plates popped out. Barely visible as cracks, paths of metal flared up, charring and flowing outward in hot drops. Sparks rained from a paw gripping the edge of the disk as the unit yanked the device out of its recess. Another effort and an elongated spark slipped between them, leaving a black stripe on the panel.

— Failure of the logical department of the combat experience memory. Failure in the system for recording the current state of unit number two-two-eight-eleven-three-six-seven. Failure of protocols of behavior according to priority directives... - the device began to sound red symbols. " Running crash-repair protocols... launch failed." Retrying to run crash fix protocols...

What happened wasn't right. She did not know how it should be, but clearly not . Protocols, always a clear guide to action, came into conflict, tearing the unit apart and putting it back together. The tenacious chains of the limiter clung to her thoughts, but only generated new errors.

A priority task conflict has been detected. Elimination of the conflict is impossible, - the device on the hip randomly clicked, shifting the arrows to more and more new symbols, until they froze on a single greenish sign. “ Behavioral defect… Defect… ct… move… Unit two-two-eight-one…”

“ My name is Protecta!! the hooves slithered across the green moss-stained panel, shifting and combining symbols. Time after time, the same warning symbols appeared on the crystal panels. Tiny gems in the grooves of the hoof armor flared, and a powerful blow shattered the panel into several sparkling pieces. Pushing the useless connector cylinder aside, Protecta stepped towards the peacefully glowing capsule. Bowing her head, she glanced at the unicorn lying under the glass and delivered a ripping blow with her horn directly into the mechanism holding the extended cradle. Under the groan of the unit, who felt the magic digging into her body, the blade cut the casing, breaking off thin wires and stretching tubes. A fragile filling of gems, spell-covered plates, and moving parts spilled onto the floor, clanking merrily across the tiles.

A malfunction of the diagnostic capsule has been detected. An abnormal termination of the treatment cycle has been fixed. The impossibility of holding the final phase has been fixed... Alert! The presence of a defective combat unit in the hall of the diagnostics center was detected - the milky-white stones in the walls turned red and in the descending twilight, illuminated by flickering control panels, two shadows appeared coming from the side of the dark corridor. - General security protocol activated...

“ The descendant of Lamell must remain the bearer of life. This is what we exist for, ” Protecta said, knocking the capsule out of the second slot with the last blow. Noticing the angular shadows, she crouched down on the floor, her horn thrust forward and her tail arched behind her. “ The descendant of Lamell must remain the bearer of life. Lamella... should. Live.

Something heavy and fast crashed into the purple crystal stele with a crash. Steel hoops, crushed by the impact, screeched, flaring for the last time in a sheaf of cold sparks. The scraping of metal on metal broke the silence of the hall. Three huge dark figures entwined into a deadly ball, destroying the fragile legacy of those who built the city.

* * *

A bag of harvested seeds. Each variety is in a separate bag, tied with a cord and folded into pockets made of waterproof fabric. The earthpony lay on a piece of rock, feeling the sunlight on its muzzle. There were several empty vials lying around. Feeling the ground tremble from heavy footsteps, he reluctantly opened his eyes, and wearily picked up a steel bar lying around from the ground.

“Climbed out of the mine, huh?” Creature... All the same... khe... you want to "eliminate the error" , are you a crystal muzzle? coughed and rolled over onto his side, said the earthpony. - I'll... eliminate you myself. Can you hear me? Here I’ll rest a little, and we will find out ... which of the two of us is an error ...

Stumbling and falling on the sweet-smelling meadow grass, he got up, helping himself with a cane, on hooves trembling with weakness. What happened was worse than fighting a beetle. Even worse than the trap in dark caves, where pale-eyed creatures tried to scratch out the eyes of random travelers. And the grove of basilisks , where his companions remained forever, frozen in stone statues, was no comparison. If not for that bolt and the shaft located under the cable, the grate of which has grown to the state of a lawn ...

And yet she got out.

And as he tried to remember the landmarks from the map and find the dangerous diagnostic center and Lamella, it didn’t immediately dawn on him how much he was battered. Having intercepted the rod stronger, the pony prepared for the meeting...

The leaves parted.

Wiping his teary eye, Hasp peered at the figure.

Protector? Kha... And you, as I see it, got it too... Imagine, a couple of hours ago I didn’t agree on my account with a thing that looks almost exactly like you... - he smiled dully, releasing a piece of iron from his hooves . The limping unit dragged its battered wing behind it. The armor was darkly torn, revealing a sparkling filling of gems, thin tubes, and bundles of intertwined cords that sobbed plaintively every time she took a step. Graphite skin, darkened from abrasions and bruises, was visible among the hodgepodge of torn parts. “L-lamy... Where is... Lamy?” Lamella...

The pony took a few more weary steps towards him before noticing the oblong object held in the loop of the tail.

“ Entrance to the territory of the greenhouse is prohibited for all types of combat units, ” the defender suddenly said, smiling and crossing an invisible line, before which she hesitated for a moment. As she walked past the frozen earth pony, she loosened her grip on her tail, leaving the pod in front of him. Inside, curled up in a ball, a unicorn was sleeping peacefully, her hooves folded in front of her. “ The descendant of Lamell must live. If that means a defect... then... I am a defective unit . All life-bearers must remain life-bearers, right ?

From a hoarse semblance of laughter, the earthpony flinched and felt the fur on the back of his neck move. The armored creature laughed softly and clumsily, looking around and sniffing at the unfamiliar aromas. The blue liquid hissed from the slits in his armor, filling the wounds, thickening and turning them into pinkish welts.

Are you asking me this? Hasp bent over the capsule, breathing heavily, trying to figure out how to open it. - How did you find me?

The answer is positive. Probably. I don’t know, ” she answered, stopping laughing, feeling how part of the armor welded to her body peeled off and hung with a quiet puff on thin tubes. - Guest pass...

She pointed to the bracelet encircling Hasp's hoof.

“Yeah… Lamella is in this thing, with her,” the pony broke off, afraid to finish the sentence.

“ The descendant of Lamell is fine. She will wake up soon, ” Protecta stood as if enjoying the surrounding foliage and the warm sun, as if seeing them for the first time. - Forced sleep protocol. Run. duration. Three incomplete cycles.

“Wait… did you take her there?” Where do they repair magic horns and stuff? Is that why she's inside? Hasp pressed a hoof to his side and sat down by the pod, feeling the soothing warmth and soft vibration of the fading mechanism. The words in that room in the corridor stung his thoughts, but there was no strength left for the experience.

The answer is positive. Her horn is in perfect order, ” the unit turned its head towards the earth pony. - Damage repaired successfully.

You're lying ... probably. To calm down. But I'll ask anyway... This. Will it help her to move on in this world? His voice sounded tired. He closed his eyes and looked at the branches moving overhead. Among their rustling, he heard the voices of those living in the village nearby. Words left by the fountain. The quiet voice of a desperate filly forever lying by an empty cupboard with food. Everyone he knew, and whose voices were forever silenced on the long road of the struggle for survival...

“ She... will be able to live further with greater efficiency than before, ” turning away and once again exposing her muzzle to the rays of the sun, the combat unit said.

“You are a huge mare in iron and you speak incomprehensibly, but I ... want to believe you. Or I believe. There is nothing left for me. Tell... tell Lamy to reach the end and keep going. Let it... find its place.” Hasp inhaled the scent of flowers. The feeling of a hundred hooves gently hugging him. The feeling of returning home, after a long and complete deprivation of the road. “Be sure… tell her that… And one more thing…”

Not the worst place to sleep.

Even if it lasts forever .

Message recording completed. The bearer of life… has lost the right to belong to this category, ” the voice of the device boomed from Protecta’s thigh. Still not understanding her changes, but having passed the point of no return, equirido listened to the rustle of leaves, feeling the wind on her fur and inhaled the tart pollen. And it didn't require protocols.

* * *

Behind Lamella's back was a city immersed in greenery, the secret of which she would not dare to reveal to anyone. Among the appeasement of collapsing buildings, the sweetish aroma of flowers and fruits ripening on the stems, a mowed stone was left in the sun-drenched clearing. And on its surface there are only a few characters that form one short name.

"Hasp".

And his simple belongings remained lying next to him.

On that day, many years ago, she forever remembered the weight of the glass lid that was barely opened. The smell of the burnt filling of the mechanism filling the nose, mixed with the heavy and humid air of the forest. The way she gently touched the sleeping pony next to him, his head wearily bowed down. And that moment when the world collapsed from understanding what had happened. A new burning feeling in the horn that caused the metal of the capsule around it to crumble under an invisible grip. The world she grew up in and the world she knew shattered and collapsed. Just like slowly falling, falling on his side Hasp.

There was no hasp.

There was only the sad muzzle of the combat unit bending over her, which took on its new name - Protect. Defender. And the sound of a weary and soft voice coming from the blackened disk on the armored creature's thigh.

Pausing, taking a deep breath, he, usually stingy with words, talked about the past. He listed names and places where he was and managed to do something. He remembered those who happened to fall in love and leave. He asked me not to forget about them if I had a chance to meet.

— A group of seekers. We walked through the village destroyed by the fiery mole. There... nothing left. But one of us heard crying. In one of the houses, similar to those found near the damned roads, a foal turned out to be behind a glass door that miraculously survived. filly. She didn't call for help, she just cried and looked at the two black spots on the glass. We took her in spite of her horn. I…always thought… ” The voice choked and the sound of an open vial was heard in the background. This crap doesn't help . I have to hold on... I want to see how she wakes up. How much longer?

“ Two and four-fifths of incomplete cycles… ” Protecta's voice became softer in response.

“ Gads…your… Lamella… For the first few years I was close to her. I was afraid that the blood of unicorns would take its toll. What will await her ... exile, like the others. But there was no magic in it. And the horn, that horn ... over time, it came to the elders of the village. Everyone got it. I saw how upset she was from the nickname. Didn't show it. Smiling ... - the speech was interrupted by a prolonged cough. This path was predetermined. I'm not her father, though ... and tried to become one. Teach everything. Get there before the path breaks. But... "The sun protects, the moon protects", right, Lamy? Your parents knew something ...live and find the answers.

Hasp spoke, and his words touched the overgrown city. A sacrifice made by those who wish to save one of the few sources of food and seeds, at the cost of their village and their lives. Lamella remembered the feeling of not physical, but spiritual heaviness that seized her when the straps of the bags were fastened on her body, and she set off on her way back. Encased in Protect's armor, limping a little, she followed, repeating the need to protect the bearer of life from dangers.

Accompanied by her Protectress, who chose to become her not by order of protocol or a plate on the chest of a unicorn, but of her own free will, Lamella returned to the village. Long weeks of travel. Crossings between roads that have become less intimidating when walking nearby remembering how they were built and why. Translucent figures walking somewhere near them and disappearing as suddenly as they appeared. Empty villages, abandoned and abandoned. Passes thrown over the abyss by stone bridges and all for the sake of ...

A stone that has planted an eyebrow, which has flown in from behind the fence. Another fell nearby, another shattered on the strong armor of Protecta, who stood between the entrance to the village and the unicorn.

"Get out you damned unicorn!" someone screamed.

She returned alone from the whole detachment! another echoed him.

Get out. Now there is no one to intercede for you ... - came from the side of the gate. “Because of you, Pestle didn’t come back!” And where is Hasp?

The words stuck in the filly's throat. Misunderstanding mixed with pain and fatigue from a long journey. The clumsy magic that had awakened, which was about to lift the stone in response, dissipated. Instead, she picked up the bags of seeds and flung them at the locked gate.

"Life-carrier Lamella. This place is dangerous, ” Protecta said in a low voice, covering the unicorn with her whole wing.

"This ... was my home," the filly answered quietly, walking away. "Was."

She didn't look back. She didn't watch as the ponies carefully opened the gate and took the bags. How several colts lingered, looking at her and her companion with curiosity. Remembering Hasp's last words, she made it to the end and continued on her way. Over the years, she has become one of the shadows of the past, walking alone along forgotten roads between silent and deserted cities. Stories were told about her that no one believed. She was met on the way to be forgotten the next day.

The world was changing.

The survivors, once together, have dispersed, creating their own villages and communities, in an attempt to revive the badlands or merge with the growing forest. Forgetting the past, they built a new future, carefully avoiding the ancient ruins. Crossing them out of his story, turning them into old creepy foal tales. What was once true has become legend. Legends flowed into legends and new generations no longer knew why the ancient ruins were called "Forbidden" . Those with the horn did not know magic, and the old story of the "Exodus" was no longer considered an event that happened many hundreds of years ago, but just someone's fiction.

* * *

Epilogue.

Cozy house.

A house far from the villages, surrounded by a small garden, hidden from prying eyes in a new oasis of growing forest. Outside the window of this house, the leaves rustle, and the voices of night birds are heard, who have found refuge in this safe place. In a makeshift fireplace made of rough stones, a fire burns merrily, reflected by glare in the armor of a combat unit lying against the wall. From the side, it seems as if she is sleeping, sensitively guarding her old mistress.

A gray-haired, with a scar through an eyebrow, a unicorn, sits in a shabby chair, looking at the fire. Turning over in her hooves a scratched record, almost extinguished and lost its creamy hue, she recalls her life. A long crack ran along the side of the record, gleaming like a silvery thread in the light of the burning logs. Now the unicorn understood why Hasp was sitting by the fire. In the flames, one could again see everyone whom he had irretrievably lost.

"I hear you come in. My time is running out, but I have not yet lost the ability to hear footsteps and feel the presence of strangers. Even without her faithful protector…” the unicorn spoke hoarsely and in a muffled voice, not turning to take careful steps behind her. The window creaked. Something scratched the floor and froze. "I know. I know why you came. This day... I've been waiting for it, wondering what it will be like."

Two dark paws with claws carefully touched her faded mane. The interfering strand was removed. They took off the dull and rumpled hairpin, carefully placing it on the table nearby. The filly did not feel the guest's breath. Just a touch and the rustle of a hard mane behind him. She did not need to see an uninvited, but expected guest. She did not want to darken her last moments, even if for her sake this guest could take on any appearance.

“Wait… I’d like… Just one request. Good? Stay there. To see with my own eyes... to know that everything is fine with them and..." a gray hoof, almost devoid of almond hue, squeezed a dull plate, the crack on which became longer. “I never had time to visit Hasp. Last time. Let me do it and... do what you have to do quickly."

The claws descended on the forehead and temples of the unicorn. They clung to the skin and unclenched as it sank into its last sleep with a sigh.

"Project "Morph". Loading of memories from controlled individual is complete. Record. Number one hundred forty eight. Race is a unicorn. Name is Lamella. Age - about one hundred and ninety-six years from the time of the control record in the satellite station system. Classification - Protocol "Descendant". The study of memories will increase the effectiveness of the implementation of the support program for survivors and reduce the chances of detecting the replacement of villagers with temporary copies," said a young and energetic voice, to the sound of clattering hooves. "The entry has been saved. Proceed to fulfill the request of the controlled individual. Mark the beginning of the countdown of the timer until the termination of vital functions. Remove the restriction on the use of full access to memories in order to effectively complete the task. The restriction has been lifted."

The almond-colored unicorn walked around the filly sleeping in the chair and carefully stroked that filly's mane. Turning to the fireplace, she took a few steps back.

“How old I have become… isn’t it, Protecta?” I'm sorry. I can't take you with me on my last journey. You take care of me, okay?" rejuvenated before our eyes, Lamella, went up to the combat unit. The hooves awkwardly hugged the armored neck, the unicorn pressed her cheek against the cold and motionless metal. Carefully removing Protecta's helmet, she looked at the seemingly sleeping graphite muzzle and ran her hoof over the scarred nose. “You did a good job protecting me all these years. But now I have to go. Soon... I'll be with you and Hasp. There. Where flowers always smell and delicious fruits grow. In our garden."

The rough-hewn door closed behind her.

The transparent plate cracked, breaking into two halves.

The night forest breathed pleasant freshness into the muzzle of the rejuvenated unicorn, who set off at a leisurely pace. With each step, the time of the gift of youth diminished. So much needs to be done before the consciousness that gave her this appearance, left behind the closed door, irrevocably fades away.

Have time to go along the Road to the Garden.

Last time.

Having visited everyone who has been and has become dear over the years ...

Names and titles:

Rangpur is a type of citrus fruit.

"Virescere" - (Virescere (lat) ) - Turn green
Fleur Tox'Ine - Blooming Poison