Outside Nature Care, Trotson

Day 4

“I know it sounds horrible but you must remember–“

“No, no. No! You don’t get to “but” anything!” Sharpshot replied, his anger in equal measure to his terror. “You were going to destroy the world again? That was the answer your friend had come up with?”

“While Calamity was the spark that ignited Ironsight’s paranoia, it was not the match,” I explained. It was already too late to save whatever trust I had mustered, so I might as well explain the basics. “That honor belongs to you all. You, your horrible little wasteland, and your lack of civilization. The only way to extinguish Dashites is to extinguish the wasteland. M.A.M. was Ironsight’s answer, until fate stole it from him and made him rethink his beliefs.”

Sharpshot made a rare step forward. “So you would have willingly destroyed the lives of tens of thousands, no matter how much they deserve it, for that?”

“I didn’t think you would care.”

“You didn’t- of fucking course I care I live down here! My wife does too! Why wouldn’t I be pissed about you dropping a bomb on us.”

“W-w-w-would it even affect you two?” Gemini asked. Sharpshot glared at her, the mare letting out a yelp and backpedaling quickly until she fell on both her physical and metaphorical rump. “I-I mean you’re a ghoul and she’s an alicorn and from what I can gather radiation doesn’t do anything so I figured, well, uh–”

“No. Would still kill them,” Gold explained, holding a sole talon up and wagging it back and forth. “Ghoul and alicorn result of magical radiation, not chemical. If blast didn’t kill, chemical radiation would.”

That was news to me. Truth be told, I didn't think it would be possible for Ironsight to kill everything, and I still didn’t believe Willow would die from it, but that was far more terrifying than I originally believed it to be. If I had still been up in the clouds, none of this would have bothered me. Unfortunately, that was not the case. If somepony down here figured out how to make even a single M.A.M…. no, don’t think of it. That train of thought was terrifying.

“You see why I’m down here to stop it now, right?” I asked Sharpshot.

The ghoul said nothing, boring his eyes into my chest with enough strength that it could probably reopen my wounds. The fury he held was only matched by his fear, one causing the other to grow greater and greater. His zebra rifle was lifted up in a violet aura, pointing at me. His intent was clear.

“I’ve told you I can’t miss, right?”

“You’re going to shoot me.”

“Yes. Yes I will, and it will do the entire wasteland a favor. You were going to kill everyone here before you got thrown from your precious cities in the sky and I have every right to not trust you.”

I scowled, tilting my head at the sad creature before me. “And then what? That won’t fix anything. ArcanaTech still wants it, so you’re going to have to shoot Gold too.”

Sharpshot looked at where Gold had once been laying around, but he was no longer there. To both his and my own surprise, the griffon had at some point during our little conversation moved behind the ghoul. He placed a talon on the zebra rifle, pushing the telekinetically held weapon down till its barrel was pressing against the ground.

With the immediate threat to my life dealt with, Gold gave a small laugh and shook his head. “Nopony should die here. Rather unnecessary. Not to mention bad for wanting to stay alive.”

Sharpshot jabbed the front of his hoof into the griffon’s chest. “I can still hit her.”

“I see that as rather unlikely.”

“Oh yeah? Then I’ll tell you exactly what is about to happen. You will keep the muzzle pressed against the ground, and I’ll pull the trigger. Against all logic, that bullet will find its way out of the gun, through the air, brush up right against her wing, and go through her tail.”

“You speak of scientific impossibility.”

“Then allow me to repeat what I told the soldier mare.”

The trigger was pulled on the zebra rifle. Just as Sharpshot said, against all logic the bullet found its way out from the ground, whizzing past me. My hearing deafened for a moment, but I could feel something solid brush against my wing and through my tail. One of the bottles Gemini hadn’t destroyed suddenly exploded. My jaw hung open slightly at the absurdity I had just born witness to.

“I. Can’t. Miss.” Sharpshot said. “Do you know how strong curses are? Do you know the lengths they will go to in order to make sure they can’t be broken? Perhaps I need to prove it again!”

Sharpshot shoved the griffon away just enough so they couldn’t hold the rifle down anymore. He aimed it at me once again. This time it wasn’t Gold but Willow who blocked him, having leaped over her husband and blocked him with her body.

“Willow, out of the way!”

“This isn’t worth it hun. Killing her isn’t worth it!”

“I don’t care if it’s worth it, it’s what I want! Why are you even defending her? Her and the Enclave tried to cause a second Celestia-damned apocalypse.”

“And now they’re trying to stop other ponies from doing the same. Yes, what they did was bad, but they’re trying to make up for it. What does Dead Hooves think of it?”

She looked at me, leaving her unable to notice how tense Sharpshot had gotten from her words. Dead Hooves appeared next to me, the mere mention of her name all it seemed to take to summon her. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, her expression turning more and more dour as she looked at her old friends.

“Rhapsody’s not a good pony, but she’s trying to do the right thing,” the ghost said. A tired sigh escaped her lips. “Besides, after just learning I have a living piece of family out there, I would prefer for them to not–”

“What she says doesn’t matter,” I replied. Dead Hooves winced as if she had been struck by an invisible bullet, but didn’t retort. “You can’t see her. You can’t take anything from her as the truth because it’s coming from me. All I can say is this: I’m the only pony here who knows what my old squad looked like, and therefore the only hope you have for keeping M.A.M. out of the wrong hooves.”

Willow looked at Sharpshot, and then looked back at me. She stepped out of the way, her husband lowering his weapon. Dead Hooves’ eyes locked with the ground, letting out a sigh before looking back up at me.

“I know why you said it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

She faded away afterwards, a rather terrified and confused Shining Gemini taking up my vision. The mare gave a quick glance around where she was standing.

“Who were you talking to?”

I threw a hoof into the air, exhaling harshly through my nose. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve wasted more time than needed standing around pretending to threaten me.”

Leaving one unicorn behind, I focused my attention on the undead one staring at me. While he was no longer pointing a deadly weapon at me, his words and earlier demonstration left me on edge. His temper was as fragile as a stick of dynamite, and just as destructive. As I stopped directly in front of him, motioning for Gold to take a step back, I spoke.

“You hate me.”

“Yes.”

“She hates you too, you know.”

“Dead Hooves? Yeah. I’ve known that for a long damn time.”

“Then you’ll be happy to know that it goes all three ways. No matter what we all think of each other, though, we’re all in this together. Can you at least tolerate me enough for one assignment?”

He pressed his hoof into my nose, which I instinctively batted away. The only ponies allowed to boop me were Anchor or my foals. It didn’t stop him from shoving a hoof back into my face moments later.

“Promise that you won’t try and destroy the surface after it's all done. Pinkie promise it. That way, as a descendant of the Ministry of Morals, I’ll know if you go back on your word.”

I raised my brow. “Pinkie what?”

“You never heard of it?” Willow Wisp asked.

When I nodded, she smirked. That smirk transferred to Sharpshot, the couple sharing a look of understanding before turning back to me. There was an odd, unnatural fear placed in my being at that moment, as if the term “pinkie promise” was some ancient blood ritual and I was the sacrifice. As husband and wife raised their hooves to cover their hearts, I spread my wings in reflex and…

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

It ended with Willow and Sharpshot putting their hooves right in their eyes. My wings went limp, jaw hanging at the foalish actions performed before me. This is what I had felt so scared of? It didn’t make any sense… but somehow it still scared me. It was like Minister Pinkie Pie was there, boring into my soul.

It fucking scared me.

“Now you do it!” Willow said, pointing at me.

“Pinkie promise you won’t blow everything up, and all will be forgiven.” Sharpshot was clearly enjoying this too much.

“I… do I have a choice?” I asked.

My eyes flicked from alicorn to ghoul. They gave joyful expressions that eradicated the answer “no”. I looked to Gold, the griffon motioning for me to settle down; not the answer I wanted. In one final effort to find somepony who could get me out of it all, I turned my attention to Gemini. She just shrugged.

“Okay, fine.” With a shaky hoof on my chest, I recited the chant. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a… cupcake in my ey- ow.”

I accidentally hit my right eye with my hoof. Sharpshot snorted, then slowly crumbled to the ground like his legs no longer worked. His laugh was only emphasized by Willow's muffled snickering, Gold shaking his head in amused disappointment, and Gemini doing everything in her power to hold in her own laughter. As I rubbed my eyelid with a foreleg, I looked between the grounders before me with the most deadpanned look possible.

“Please tell me I don’t need to do it again.”

“Pegasus should be fine. Just don’t hit yourself in eye often,” Gold joked. If I had talons instead of hooves, I might have strangled him.”Also don’t break pinkie promise. Never ends well.”

“I… think I can do that,” I replied, giving a slow nod to the griffon. “Anyways, now that the possibility of you all shooting me has been diminished, back to Our Haven.”

“You’re… you’re… one second,” Sharpshot called out from his position on the ground, having just recovered from his laughing fit. He placed his hoof on my uninjured shoulder, using it to get the rest of his hooves back under him. Tears were in his eyes from how hard he had been laughing. “We’re… we’re still going to Our Haven?”

“Yes, because I still have something I need to settle; a wrong that needs to be made right,” I told him. “They destroyed my career, took me from the top of the Enclave to the bottom. I think I rightfully deserve vengeance for all that they did to me.”

Sharpshot looked at his wife, getting a nod to his wordless question. The same hoof he had placed on my shoulder went to his face, letting out a big sigh. After grumbling some words that were too quiet for me to pick out, Sharpshot’s attention turned back to me.

“Willow and I aren’t going in.”

“That’s fine. You two can wait outside, and Gold and Gemini will help me deal with this.”

“Then I guess the only question left is how we’re going to get there,” Gemini replied, shuffling up between Willow and myself. “Anyone been there before?”

“Nope, but Sharpy has a PipBuck,” Willow said, vaguely motioning to the barely visible device wrapped under the cloth on his leg. “I’m sure that it already has it marked. Same with your MentaBuck, Rhapsody.”

I blinked, then pulled up the map. I zoomed out until the green-tinted map of Trotson became much more. The surrounding area seemed like an endless ocean of sand with how empty it was on my map. That was the case, until a landmark finally caught my eye far, far away from the city. Its logo looked like a house, but it was cut down the middle in such a way where one could easily see it as an equal sign. That was Our Haven.

“Well, who's up for a road trip?” Sharpshot asked. “Go through the sandstorm or take the train, it’s going to be a long ass journey there.”

“Train far safer. Pegasus can tell you that from personal experience,” Gold said. “However, the sandstorm is likely quicker.”

Attention turned to me, the group of grounders seeming to have decided I was the leader. Guess I was the leader of our little band, at least for the time being. Closing my eyes, I thought about the two options put before me. Unlike five years ago, I had the time to think my decision through, and I was going to use that to the best of my ability.

To my surprise, it didn’t change my answer.

“The sooner we take care of Angel Hair, the better,” I said, opening my eyes. “We head through the sandstorm.”

The decision to go through the sandstorm wasn’t purely about the difference in time, but it helped give it more meaning. Heading back to Trotson Station would have been a day and a half trip on hoof, possibly more with the size of our group. In contrast, with how close the M.A.S. hub was to the east border of the sandstorm, so we could easily reach it within the day. There was also the fact that there was no way to tell how far away we would be from Our Haven from the other train station.

Time was not the only reason for my decision, however. The Trotson sandstorm still haunted my nightmares, and I wanted them to go away. Quicker travel to Our Haven was the perfect excuse to face a demon from my pass, and with it I swore one thing. No matter what I think of these grounders, no matter what came at us, I would get all of them out of there alive.

With all that decided, and with all our equipment on us (Willow Wisp took my battle saddle so it didn’t put unnecessary weight on my shoulder) we headed out.

We had one stop to make on our way there, highly recommended by Gold. Apparently there was an ArcanaTech research station in the area, studying the strange creatures that lay inside the sandstorm. They also had confiscated Enclave technology, likely from the soldiers who had died within the city itself.

“With some talk, I’m sure they will give some of it back,” Gold said. “You’ll like the upgrades, trust me.”

“Am I going to be knocked out like the last time you ponies gave me an “upgrade”?” I asked, voice as monotone as possible. “I would prefer to not have my brain tampered with again.”

Gold let out a heart chuckle. “No. No knocking pegasus out this time.”

I let out a “hmph”, and turned my attention down the road. The sandstorm was getting closer and closer, the S.P.P. tower far behind my flank now. The road led downhill, leading to a piece of the city far more open than most of what I had encountered so far. This had to have been the poorer side of Trotson before the bombs fell, the lack of excessively tall, still standing buildings made way for collapsed, shoddy housing and fields covered in sand. Perhaps there had been more here, once upon a time.

I could see plumbs of smoke not too far in the distance. Gold’s eyes watched the buildings around us as they got smaller and were made more of wood than brick and stone. He hadn’t drawn Roche Limit yet, but he seemed ready at the first sign of contact.

I joined him in checking our surroundings. “Places are burning to the south. That isn’t where you’re taking us, right?”

“No. No way they could find a research station anyways. Underground, no standard entrance.”

“No standard entrance?” Sharpshot asked, leaning his head forward. “What, you scan your cutie mark on something and the ground opens from under you?”

“Ha! Ghoul is funny,” Gold replied. “Would only work for ponies, and I’m no pony. You shall find out when we get to place.”

The longer we walked, the more and more dreary and drab the surroundings became. What could be considered a standing building changed quickly as they got shorter, many seeming to be more piles of rubble than anything else. The once distant sandstorm now felt like the towering wall it truly was, my heart rate increasing. There was a whisper in the air, familiar yet not at the same exact time.

I felt I was making a mistake, but I had already said I was doing this. No going back now.

“This area feels completely different to the rest of Trotson,” Gemini whispered, keeping her head low. “Is this what small towns look like?”

“Oh, they can look far, far worse than this,” Sharpshot explained. “You should see what they did to Ponyville. Place is strung up like it’s ready for some twisted, backwards heartwarming festival.”

Gemini’s muzzle hung up dumbly. “Heartwarming?”

“You’ve never heard of it?” I asked the mare. She shrinked even more, giving a frantic shake of her head. “It was the event that brought Equestria together. In the Enclave we celebrate it by remembering the princesses and the old world. All the pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies that died before the world ended, and you all were tainted by this irradiated pit need to be remembered in some way.”

“Remembering that which is gone. That’s actually rather sweet of the Enclave,” Willow said smiling.

“Somepony has to. None of you ponies did, after all.”

“In Stable 17 we celebrated it the old fashion way; decorations, presents, holiday cheer and illusionary snow,” Sharpshot replied. His voice turned sullen as his head fell low. “I… I miss snow. I really, really miss it.”

“What’s snow like?” Gold asked. Sharpshot’s head fell even lower at the old griffon admission. I had to admit, I was curious now myself; I had only ever seen it in old books and faded pictures. “From what I know, it only exists in Stalliongrad now. Nopony goes to Stalliongrad.”

Sharpshot stopped in his tracks and looked to the sky, everycreature stopping afterwards and looking back to him. He raised a hoof, and then reached out to the sky as if he could capture it within his hooves. He lowered the cloth covering his muzzle, allowing him to stick his tongue out at nothing in particular. The longing – the sadness – was infectious.

“It’s… small, white, and a single pellet of snow melts as soon as it hits the ground. The more there is, the easier it can cover the ground, and the colder it seems to get. You could make snow angels out of it, making snowponies and throwing snowballs at each other for fun. I would try to eat it; it always tasted like milk for some reason. You pegasi use to make it, you know? When I was younger I dreamed that I could ask a pegasus to make some real authentic snow for me.”

“It's never going to happen. Not as long as magical radiation taints the land and the pegasi seclude themselves from society,” Willow stepped in. “I tried to make it for him, but it all just melted and turned to rain immediately. The wasteland can’t handle snow anywhere. Anywhere but the odd, unnatural remains of Stalliongrad.”

Sharpshot pulled the cloth back over his muzzle, shaking his head back and forth. “And I’m not suicidal enough to head there.”

I briefly turned to the sky, raising my hoof up so that its underside could be hit by the sunlight. Sharpshot’s description had become more of a moment of mourning for what Equestria now lacked. We pegasi and the weather we brought really meant that much to the ponies down here? It must have been incredibly rare to see us down here, to the point where it was possible many had forgotten what our purpose to Equestria was and why we were so much more important than the rest of them.

Gold, a moment more like a griffon chick than an old geezer, stuck his tongue out to catch the invisible flakes of snow. Willow joined him, followed by a confused by curious Gemini. I stayed with pretending to feel it dance around my raised hoof. The cold wind helped, but it wasn’t satisfactory. Sharpshot’s description had given me some basic idea of what snow was like, but I had to ask: what was snow truly like? How did it feel, what purpose did it serve, and could it really do everything the ghoul said it could?

A foal-like curiosity had settled in me. Maybe I’ll travel to Stalliongrad one day, or perhaps I’ll find some way to form snow for myself and only myself.

“We… we should get moving again,” I reluctantly said. A piece of me wanted to just stand there, imagining myself in a comfy blizzard, but time didn’t allow it. “Snow won’t come in a place like this.”

It was a depressing thought, but one ultimately true. With our imaginary snowstorm out of reach, we continued down through Trotson’s east side with quiet and sadness. I found myself looking up to the sky, not wanting to spread my wings but to see tiny little specks of white fall before me. It was impossible to remove from my mind as long as the sky stayed above me. It would explain why Gold made a sudden change of course.

“Through here. Taking shortcut.”

He veered to the left towards a house that was mostly still standing. As I entered the building, my eyes finally found the ability to look away from the sky above me. Instead I was occupied by a living room and dining room hybrid, an old battered up sofa. The remains of a circular table with three chairs made up the dining space, broken picture frames littering the floor around it.

“Oh, the poor thing.”

At the sound of Willow’s voice, I looked for wherever she was. The alicorn had separated herself from the group, making her way to the kitchen while the rest of us were following Gold to the backdoor. One of the cupboards was open, the barely visible remains of what had once been a hoof meeting my eyes. My vision fooled me, the gray of the bone leading me to believe I was looking at Clear.

With hurried steps, I joined Willow. I nearly screamed out for my foal, but the sight of what little remained of a filly or colt’s skeleton stopped me. It wasn’t complete, the only things remaining being a single leg, half their skull, and what I assumed was their ribs. A sigh of relief left me, the sight hurting significantly less.

“Come on,” I told Willow, patting her shoulder with a hoof. “Let's allow them their rest.”

“R-right,” She said, slowly shuffling away. I followed behind her, eyes lingering only the unfinished skeleton in the cupboard. “Fillies, colts. They were the things I always felt the worst for killing.’

“You’ve… you’ve killed foals?”

“I would prefer not to talk about it.”

With our alicorn reunited with the group, we exited from the back of the house single file. I took up the rear, Gemini holding the door open for me to exit. I took a single step out of the house and…

“Please don’t go.”

I looked back inside, searching desperately for where the voice had come from. It was young, likely elementary school. The fear of thinking I had found my foal’s own body had been rekindled, maternal instincts kicking in.

To the confusion of the unicorn holding the door open for me, I re-entered the house. It was easy to tune out the grounder’s call for me, both due to her talking so quietly and my focus being somewhere else. She didn’t understand, none of them did outside of perhaps Gold. There was a filly crying out for us somewhere in this house. The mother in me had to find her.

“Hello? Where are you?” I called out as my eyes trailed along all points in the living area. “I promise I’m not a raider. You can trust me.”

“You… you can hear me?”

My ears twisted towards one of the rooms we had ignored. It was a bedroom, and given the size it wasn’t the master bedroom. A twin size bed took up a decent portion of it, an old rickety dresser on its right side. What little remained of the paint on the walls was an off color pink, no doubt far more brilliant two centuries ago. The sounds of crying reverberated off of the walls of the room, all coming from a little, transparent filly with a teal coat and green mane.

She was dead. The filly I had heard, the same one that now sat on the floor crying, was dead.

I felt somepony move up to my left, noticing the form of Dead Hooves next to me. With her there, I was able to take notice that the filly seemed… off. While Dead Hooves was merely herself, granted with a bit more ability to walk then in life, the filly seemed drowned in fear and sorrow. It manifested in this feeling that pierced the core of my being, every little movement she made gained a sobbing, pained after image.

“So I can see more than just you,” I whispered. I took a step forward, Dead Hooves mimicking my every step forward. “Hello there, are y–”

“Soldier lady, the fuck are you doing?”

I looked behind myself, noticing Sharpshot and the rest of my group staring at me. After a couple glances back and forth between the spectral filly and the ghoul, I scowled at the latter.

“You don’t understand. A mother can’t just… there’s a filly here that needs me.”

“There is nopony there!” He practically screamed. Something about his anger seemed to set the spirit filly off, her wails gaining volume and echoing worse in my eras. “You all up there in the head?”

“You can’t understand this,” I said, stomping a hoof in affirmation and a show of power. The only ponies it did anything to was Gemini and the spectral filly, the latter’s unnatural wails getting worse. “A good mother wouldn’t abandon a hurt filly, dead or not.”

“I don’t fucking care about what the dead think!” He screamed at me. “There are so many dead now that one foal's crying fit shouldn’t matter. Just leave it so we can get out of here.”

I shook my head, turning away from him. “You can’t understand. You won’t ever understand.”

Gold kept whatever Sharpshot was going to say next forever unknown, clamping she their muzzle with his talons. I looked back to Dead Hooves, giving them a nod before we both made our way to the filly. Soft whimpers had turned into newborn cries, making every other sound indistinguishable.

With perfect synergy, Dead Hooves and I reached out to touch the form of the filly before me. I opened my mouth to speak, but instead my vision became unfocused, everything blurring into one big mass of color. Multiple voices filled my head, some repeating while others never appeared again..

“Mom, where is the food?”

“I’m sorry miss, but your husband won’t be coming home.”

“What do you mean? We’re military, how are we being denied residence in a stable?”

“She’s right. Miss Dust is right! The ministries need to be dealt with!”

“Mom, you’re scaring me.”

“All we have is bread and butter. Mom stopped getting rations days ago.”

“Mommy has something really important to do sweetie. If anypony you don’t know knocks on the door, don’t let them in. You can do that for mommy, right?”

The sound of a wicked siren pierced the conglomerations of voices and sounds, overwhelming the other bits and pieces. It grew louder and louder, overwhelming more and more… and then stopped. All I was left with was the soft crying of a young foal, and the barely audible repetition of one word.

“Mom, mom. Mom? M-mom?! Mom!” A pause. “Mom? M-mommy? Mom? Mom… mom.”

The world faded back into focus, the cries of the ghost filly having turned into whimpers. I looked at my hoof, and then to the dead mare at my side. She seemed just as surprised as myself at something, likely meaning we had shared that strange experience. No matter what it was, though, it was clear who it had come through.

The sole word she muttered through her cries was proof enough.

“Mom… mom.”

“Are you okay dear?” I asked, laying down on filthy carpet flooring so I wasn’t towering over her. The filly didn’t respond, so I placed a hoof under her chin. It made her gasp. “It’s okay. You got ponies here for you now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

"I… what… you,” she stammered, a small hoof shakily reaching out to it. She wrapped one small hoof around it, looked at me, and then went back to my hoof. She placed her other foreleg on top of it. “You… have you actually heard me? You can see me?”

“Of course dear. How could I not notice a filly in need,” I answered, giving a comforting smile. “I’m Singing Rhapsody.”

Dead Hooves laid down in front of the filly, looking more playful than maternal. “And I’m Dead Hooves. Who are you?”

The filly didn’t answer, leaning what little weight her ghostly form had into my hoof. While she could no longer produce tears, the expression she wore told me exactly what she was trying to do. I reached my other forehoof out, caressing their mane. It felt like I was petting the air, but it was clearly keeping them calm.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Dead Hooves nodded her head. “We both are. You wanted us to stay for a bit right?”

“I… I thought you were mom,” the filly said, shifting her position so she was looking at me. “You sound so much like her. She’s who I wanted, not you.”

My heart stung at her words, forehooves retracting to my chest. The voices I had heard, one of them was clearly her mother but they didn’t sound anything like me. They’re voices were more vibrant than my own, even when they sounded broken by the world. Was Equestria really so far gone at the end of the war?

“I… I don’t think your mother is around anymore,” I explained. “I think she’s been gone for a long, long time.”

She flinched away from me, scared. “Y-you don’t know that! She could still be out there somewhere. I mean she’s been working a lot and hasn’t come home in a while, even if the ponies in question don’t seem great. Maybe then I will have some money for food.”

My breathing paused, only restarting when I started to feel the world fall away. This filly, this pony of the old world, didn’t even remember that the world had died. Is it possible that they had sat here in this house all that time? Were they waiting for a mother that would never come home? A mother that was possibly dead and grieving in the same way as her filly, never being able to see them again.

“You’re mother, what does she do?” Dead Hooves asked. Running a hoof along the filly’s cheek. A bit of life was restored in their eyes at the touch, leading their attention to linger on the spectral unicorn instead of me. “Her work must be very important if she’s away all the time.”

“Yes, she said it was. All she told me though was that it is making Equestria a better place,” the filly replied.

“I’m sure it is. She’s probably working with the ponies in the sky now, right Rhapsody?”

Dead Hooves eyes met mine, and I instantly understood where she was going with it all. The ponies in the sky weren’t us pegasi, they were something far more sobering. This filly needed to go there, to her mother. I wasn’t sure how, but it seemed that Dead Hooves knew the answers.

It took me a few seconds, but I figured out how the mare wanted me to do this.

“Yeah. She’s up there now, among Celestia’s sun and Luna’s beautiful night sky,” I said, craning my neck to look at the bedroom ceiling. “She’s up there with a lot of other ponies now.”

The filly sat up, looking first to me and then to the ceiling. “Really?”

I gave a nod. “I’m positive.”

“Then… perhaps you can show me how to get there?”

I lowered my head to reply, but my voice got caught in my throat. Dead Hooves shuffled back as the filly’s form started to untangle into threads. Those threads reached out for me, lightly prodding my hooves and chest. I flinched away, wincing as I felt my wounded shoulder ache. The tendrils couldn’t reach me after a moment but they didn’t retract back, what remained of the filly’s form bordering on crying. There was no malice, no hate, just pleading and desperation.

“Please miss. You’re a pegasus, you can show me how to get there, right?”

I wanted to cry just as much as the filly there, but I was firmly denied it. How was I supposed to respond? Saying yes felt just as bad as saying no, especially when I considered… when I considered my foals in their place. That was a horrible, soul crushing thought, but it crossed my mind. If They had asked me to get them to the stars, where all ponies go after resting, I would do it in a heartbeat.

So, against my better judgment, I made a lie.

“Yes. I’ll get you there,” I told her, reaching my hooves out to the threads of her form. They wrapped around me, painlessly sinking into my skin. “Just tell me your name, please? I would like to know the name of the filly I’m helping.”

A somber smile appeared on the filly’s lips as her form undid itself more and more. Her lower body had completely dissipated, the tendrils that made it up entering me. The sight still made me nervous, but I was certain the little ghost before me meant no harm. Dead Hooves simply stared at the interaction between us, terrified and intrigued all in one as I absorbed the essence of a dead pony. As the filly’s head started to unravel into ethereal strands, she spoke.

“Thank you.”

Without ever learning her name, she disappeared.

I stared at where she had been, being met by old carpet and the bottom of a dresser. She was gone. Had my words helped her move on in some aspect? That didn’t explain how she disappeared within me instead of up into the sky, but it felt right. A soul from days long gone, finally able to move on. One of many, many who were likely dealing with the same exact thing.

“What did you do?” Dead Hooves asked, her hoof pointing at my own. “I’ve never seen that before. How did you do that?”

I looked down at my hooves, and then back to her. “I have no idea.”

“Down with the ministries. Down with the moon.”

After those odd events, we left the abandoned home and started back on our journey to the ArcanaTech Research Station. We started traveling through houses, backyards, doing everything we could to stay off the street. It was likely all a means to avoid raiders, though it came at the cost of seeing many, many more grounders who died on the Last Day.

No more ghosts showed themselves, though I doubted it was because they were peacefully resting. This entire area of Trotson had a feeling to it, like a spell had been cast that caused the mood of everypony in it to feel twice as sad as normal. The number of skeletons, the state of the houses and how much more messed up they got the further in we traveled. This place showed not just the worst of time’s passage, but how depraved grounders had become.

Which led us to stopping next to a shed and reading what had been sprayed on it. There had been more than enough crude graffiti during our walk through Trotson’s east-side, many depicting the brutalized remains of ponies or things far more heinous and sexual. Words that I would never let leave my own mouth were written around them, typically spelled wrong or looking more like scribbles. The lack of literate ponies among raiders was already more than known, but this settled it.

That was off topic, however. The point of bringing up the graffiti was due to the piece before us seeming radically different to the rest. Along with the words Sharpshot had read off it, it depicted a lightning bolt rupturing the moon down its center. My immediate thought was that it was related to Minister Rainbow Dash, but that would make no sense. The lightning bolt came from somepony else.

“Hey geezer, did the Shattered Moon exist before the Last Day?” the ghoul asked, looking behind himself to Gold. They had lit themselves a cigar, Gemini covering her nose from the unpleasant smell.

“Possibly. Must have been small, unknown. No knowledge of them exists before end of world.”

“Or perhaps it was because the ministries didn’t want ponies knowing they would exist,” I said, rubbing one of my hooves under my chin. I could feel stray specks of sand flake off them, the ground in this part of the city more thoroughly covered than the more well off areas. “Remember the cinema? The pegasus that was in one of the films, talking about bringing down the ministries?”

Willow gasped dramatically. “Oh yeah, this piece of art and that little film have a lot in common, didn’t they?”

“I’m sorry to ask but, um…,” Gemini spoke up, taking the smallest of steps forward. Sharpshot, Willow, and myself looked at her, the unicorn avoiding eye contact with us. “What are you all talking about?”

“Right, you and Gold weren’t with us that night,” Willow said. “The day my hubby and I met Singing, we spent the night in an old world cinema. The projector still worked, and there were still a few working film reels, so Singing and Sharpy got it all working and we watched it together.”

I nodded to show Willow had remembered it all right. “One of them was less a film and more a call to action. A pegasus – a war veteran – calling for the death of the ministries. She knew the world was coming to an end, and she seemed certain it was unstoppable.”

“They also called themselves the Shattered Moon, right?” Sharpshot asked, turning back to the graffiti.

“Maybe. I’m not sure,” I replied. “With all the traveling, the injuries, and the weird shit I’ve dealt with in the past twenty four hours it didn’t really stick.”

Gemini eyes it again herself, tilting her head. “So they were a group of ponies who were anti-Equestria?”

I raised a hoof. “Anti-ministry, not anti-Equestria. Though I do wonder if they would have been satisfied if the ministers stepped down.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Gold replied. “World never know. That path, history didn’t write.”

We seemed to have exhausted the amount of chatting we could make out of a single piece of graffiti. It was more thrilling the number of more recent gory or sexual pieces ponies had left in recent years. The only other thing I knew was this: the piece we had witnessed had to have been made on or just before the Last Day. No way in tartarus Minister Pinkie would have allowed this to stay, and would probably have had the residents tried as Zebrican spies.

Maybe that actually is what happened, and I just didn’t know it.

Entering through the back of the next house, Willow in front and Gemini in the back, the change in scenery was made far more clear. Where the first house with the ghost filly had been left in simple disrepair, this one was mutilated beyond recognition. The walls were covered in indecent art,, the stench of blood infecting the room due to the bloated, decaying limbs of ponies around us. At its base the room had the exact same layout as the first house, but it felt nothing alike.

To further sell that feeling of dread, a bullet passed through my mane and nicked the top of my ears. The moment I realized what it was, the moment I felt the pain in my ear, I turned around. Without a proper explanation, I grabbed Gemini and forced her to the ground. Every other pony backed away from the room’s three windows, one leading from where he had come, another facing the opposite building from the living, and one that looked out over the street.

“S-Singing, your ear!”

I looked down at Gemini, then placed a hoof at the ear I knew was injured. When I brought the underside of it back to my face, I was greeted by a small trail of blood. “It’s nothing. Anypony see where it came from?”

“Nope, and I’m not about to fire a shot to find out,” Sharpshot replied. “Just cause I can’t miss, doesn’t mean I’ll hit my intended target.”

“Personal experience?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

The E.F.S. showed nothing, likely meaning whoever shot at us was either too far for it to be picked up, or that they had disengaged the fight immediately after. It made it impossible to track their location, and even harder to find a safe place to move. That was the case for most of us at least; I was currently on top of the only mare who could help us.

“Gemini, you said you know illusion magic, right?”

The fearful unicorn gave a nod. “It’s one of the few things I was able to learn. When those ponies you saved me from learned I could do that, they would make me constantly cast it so they had somepony to shoot at, and when I got tired they–”

“Continue telling me later, when we aren’t in danger,” I requested. “How does it react to being shot at?”

“I-Its realistic. Like, really realistic. They would put ponies they captured in front of me and make me watch them get shot up or butchered. It hurts to watch, but it's hard to tell the difference until it is dispelled.”

I clenched my teeth together for a moment, inwardly swearing at how despicable grounders were. “It’ll work. We need you to send it out the door, make it take a shot so we know where the pony in question is coming from. Do that, and I swear I’ll figure out some way to get you a therapist.”

“What’s a therapist?”

“I’ll explain later, just do it!”

Her horn lit up, and an exact replica of herself suddenly appeared right next to me. I removed myself from on top of Gemini, eyesing the pony looking illusion with intrigue. Their face was blank, an odd look for a mare I was coming to know as panicky and constantly confused. Without a single word, the illusion made its way towards the door and reached a hoof out to it, only for said hoof to pass through it.

The knob glowed a violet, matching Sharpshot’s light up horn. “Here. Allow me.”

As soon as the door opened, the illusion stepped outside. As soon as it was in the street, its head turned into a mist of red before fading from existence. Before it did, however, the body lurch to the right, in the direction of the sandstorm. I turned back to Sharpshot with this newfound knowledge.

“They’re between eight to ten o’clock. Do you see anything?”

Bringing the zebra sniper rifle up into the windowsill looking out at the streets, the ghoul scanned. We all waited patiently, Willow mouthing words in prayer, no doubt for the safety of her husband. The ghoul ducked, a shot going over his head and leaving a hole in the wall to my right. He stuck his tongue out the side of his muzzle, biting into it likely out of stress than anything else.

“Yep, they are there,” the ghoul replied. “Competent bitch too. Sadly, she’s dealing with me.”

He brought the sniper back up first, and then his head. One second passed, and nothing. Two seconds, and I ducked low to the ground in preparation for another bullet.. Three seconds, and bang rattled the air, Sharpshot letting a smug “heh” leave his muzzle. Voices could be heard far in the distance, but the ghoul seemed too giddy to care.

“All of you seem to still be free of a new bullet hole, meaning I must have hit my–” his words turned into a pained groan as a bullet grazed the side of his muzzle, causing him to collapse. “F-fucking… fuck!”

“Regretting your cockiness, zombie?”

“Shut up you winged… fuck this stings.”

“Out the back door, now!”

“I can still take them- ow ow ow.”

Gold had to practically drag out by the ear, following behind the rest of us. As soon as we were back out, my eyes flicked towards the shed, or rather the fence that separated it and the house across. There were two red dots in that direction, slowly moving back and forth in search of something. I briefly pulled up the MentaBuck’s map, noting that the opposite direction of them would lead us into the middle of the street as well.

I felt the shoulder that Gemini had shot up the day prior, noticing how it was still tender and sore. I wasn’t fit to carry my battle saddle, and that meant I wasn’t going to be able to fight. If it was just me then the only option to me would be heading away from the enemy. Much like with Willow Wisp in the M.A.S. hub, however, I was finding myself thankful to not be alone down here.

“Gold, how close were we to the research station?”

“Not far now. If street was clear, would have only been a couple more minutes.”

“Okay. Heading… east of us won’t do good at this moment; there is an intersection there and the lack of cover is clearly a death trap now.” I pointed in the direction we had been shot from. “Our best option is heading towards the gun shot, eliminate them and whoever is with them. There is more than one though, so be careful.”

“So I get to rip them apart!” Willow replied, facing beaming with joy.

“Yes, just don’t use any of the shit attached to my battle saddle as a skyball bat, okay?”

“Here then,” Gold said, taking out Roche Limit and presenting it to me. “For temporary use, since shoulder is too fucked for something bigger.”

I took the ArcanaTech pistol, examining it in my hooves before gripping it with my muzzle. “Thanks. Now we just need to get everypony over the–”

“Don’t act like it has to be complicated.”

Willow walked past all of us towards the fence leading towards the sniper’s position. She let out a forced cough for reasons I didn’t completely, and turned so her rear was facing it. With a sturdy stance, she did a little hop, her front hooves hitting the ground as her hind ones bucked the boards into pieces, one shard logging itself in the opposite fence.

I made a mental note to not be that fence in the future. I also noted that nopony here should ever complain about an injury, because Willow would make sure it was five times worse for them. The sight of her beating down that ghoul in the labs gave me a small chill.

“That wasn’t even as hard as I could buck,” She said, sheepish yet proud at the same exact time. “Honestly we could probably have leaned against it and it would have fallen over.”

Gemini gulped, giving a nervous laugh. “I’m very glad I didn’t do that, then.”

If fences had the same intelligence as ponies, they probably would have wanted Willow dead from crimes against all fence-kind. The alicorn held no sympathy for the old, moldy collections of boards and nails, bucking through them like a knife cut butter. It wasn’t the quietest way to do things, but then again this was Willow Wisp; her quite typically involved a fountain of blood and several ponies heads on the surrounding walls.

I had to withhold the urge to chuckle after every single broken fence, the red marks of ponies on the E.F.S. constantly blipped in and out of existence. The sheer force with which she broke fences consistently sent splinters flying everywhere. It even found its way through the broken windows of one of the houses, and judging by the sound of it annihilated a bloatsprite.

Oh, right, the bloatsprites. Yeah they were around here too.

The blood, severed limbs decorating the houses, and otherwise attracting lots of bugs. While the radroaches found the wisdom in flight instead of fight, bloatsprites proved themselves to be more a constant nuisance. Gemini was the only pony really afraid of them – something that obliterating it with a bullet didn’t fix – and its barbs proved ineffective on Willow Wisp, who seemed to consistently be their main target.

“I don’t understand why you all hate them,” She said somberly, looking for the tiny, ruptured remains of one particular bloatspirte. “They’re really cute!”

Sharpshot shook his head, chuckling. “Babe, no offense but your definition of cute is kind of off.”

“What? We all have our own definitions of cute. I mean, yours in mine after all.”

Though nopony could see the pout that formed from those words, the way his head immediately turned away from her spelled everything out. “I wanted to say that about you.”

“Can we please keep the lovey dovey talk until after we’re at the research station?” I whispered, eyeing both of them with disdain. A large majority of it was at Sharpshot and not Willow Wisp.

“Perhaps you should take out the S.P.P. tower shoved up your ass,” Sharpshot said, momentarily showing his muzzle to stick his tongue at me like a Luna damned foal. “We’ve been alive for so long this kind of chat is normal in these situations. Deal with it.”

I snarled at him. “You cocky shit.”

Sharpshot smirked as he covered his muzzle back up. “Says the bigot rubbing her “high and mighty” status as a pure pegasus all over us. Pfft, you wish bitch.”

The next step I took could be considered more of a drag than anything, my anger leading to my hooves digging through the ground. He was talking a lot of shit for someone who had had one side of his muzzle made just a little bit wider than it was supposed to be. My eyes glanced to Gold and Gemini, the griffon and freed slave choosing the wiser course. An intelligent mare would have kept her mouth shut.

Once again, pride was a great counter to intelligence.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

“What? You’ve been speaking with the spirit of miss limp legs, right? You should know by now that you–”

“I am not some part-grounder castoff. I am a fucking Lieutenant Colonel of the Grand Pegasus Enclave; it’s impossible for me to be some mud-bound cretin like you and your wife and this dumbass unicorn who shouldn’t even be here!”

I glared at Gemini, the unicorn shrinking as we stopped moving. Willow decided to ignore my constant back and forth with her husband, making her way towards the next fence with an all to giddy look. When I looked back to Sharpshot, I got the immediate impression of his smirk under his clothes.

“Guess it's fitting you couldn’t keep it then.”

“The fuck do you mean by that?”

“Well you got a little bit of unicorn in there, right? Dead was one, her father was one… Star was half one.” The emphasis he put into her name made me want to beat him into paste. “You got a bit of horn-head in you, lady. Suck it up and shut up.”

“I am not part unicorn!”

“How can you be so sure? You never asked the question before coming down here, did you?” He brought himself up next to my ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Did you ever ask yourself this until now?”

I went quiet, Sharpshot having given me zero room to respond. Every option for a response ended with me admitting I’ve got grounder blood. The option I came up with at the end of everything was forcing his muzzle away from my ear. If only it did anything about the ugly foal that stared back at me.

“Don’t act like you know me,” I told him. “Don’t act like you know Star Chart. You all are liars and deceivers. That's how you fool pegasi into coming down here.”

“Heh, and I thought you were beyond your Enclave’s precious propaganda.”

“It’s not propaganda if it’s accurate.”

A beak, followed by the rest of a griffon's face blocked my view of Sharpshot. He gave me a look of disappointment. No rage, just pure unfiltered disappointment at how I was acting. The worst part was he wasn’t wrong; I was acting very unbecoming of my station. What the fuck had been up with my temper the past two days? Whose emotions were these, because they certainly never felt this vivid before.

“Save for later,” he stated.

He drew back afterwards, no more words necessary. As Sharpshot scoffed at the griffon, mentioning something about his age, I took a few deep breaths. A soldier had to remain calm in enemy territory, praying for the best but expecting the absolute worst. Plans never survive first contact, check all my surroundings, and every other piece of training I was capable of recalling entered my head. None of it made me very happy; outside of grass and sand the lawn I was currently in was about as bare as a feral ghoul’s flank.

“If you want, we can have a more physical scuffle over this all later,” I told the ghoul.

He snorted, turning his head away. “Sounds good to me.”

“Then I think it’s about time your wife knocks this fence down.”

Those words earned two red dots on my E.F.S., both coming from directly behind the fence. My left wing snapped out, which I used to motion Gemini and Gold back as I gave Sharpshot a knowing look. He turned to me and gave me a similar one, raising up his abomination. As my attention went to the fence, I gave one final measured breath to prepare myself for what was no doubt an encounter in the making.

“I would highly recommend you don’t, unless you want lead in your lungs,” A gruff, masculine voice called. “Or do! Been a while since any of us have had real fun killin’.”

“You do realize what you are threatening, correct?” Sharpshot said, a hint of ego behind his suddenly cold voice. “Let me put it simple, you all lay down your arms, beg for mercy, and I may just ask my girl to have mercy on your poor souls.”

“Ha! Like you would ever keep me from sweet, sweet blood.”

Sharpshot’s shoulders rose and fell in a show of silent laughter. “You are outnumbered, outgunned, are dealing with some really dangerous ponies, and one of us is an alicorn. I would highly suggest you learn common sense and–”

The barely audible sound of a grenade pin being pulled hit everyponies ear.

“Everypony back up!”

He didn’t need to tell any of us; even Gemini knew what the sound meant. With as much speed as possible we dashed away from the fence, a tiny metal apple being lobbed over from the other side. I mentally counted down from when the pin was pulled to when the explosion would trigger, grabbing the idiot unicorn I had mentioned earlier and shoving her and myself behind fencing. Almost everypony else got behind in time… everypony except for Willow Wisp, who was the closest to the fence.

I hadn’t paid attention, covering my ears as the deafening boom of a grenade unleashed tarttarus on the surroundings. Fragments littered as much of the immediate area as possible, and Willow was unlucky enough to not have her full body behind cover. She let out a guttural yelp as the left side of her flank and the appropriate hind leg was ripped open by shrapnel. The front of her body fell forward, Sharpshot catching her and dragging her behind cover.

“You broken grounder?” I called out.

Willow looked at me out of the corner of her vision, giving a smile that felt less pained and more masochistic. “I’m fine… mostly. This is not the worst I’ve been through.”

The image of a pegasi Willow Wisp, bound, cut up, and bloodied, resurfaced from Dead Hooves memories. I frowned, knowing that even those injuries were probably nowhere close to the worst she had ever had. If I hadn’t felt the rotted wood above me give way due to bullets raining upon us, I might have contemplated that.

I got as low to the ground as possible, the sight of what I originally thought was the original Gemini galloping into the open like some idiot. When it was met by bullet fire, ripping apart into chunks before disappearing, I found myself not caring; illusion or not, Gemini had taken the fire off me for a moment and that was all I needed.

S.A.T.S. activated, I quickly rose up from the now hobbled remains of a fence. I briefly caught Gold’s form leaping over the fence, using his wings to help not put so much weight on it that it broke. Clearly he had the same idea I was, and that meant I needed to make sure one target was too thrown off to think about shooting at him. These were grounders after all, not trained and disciplined Enclave soldiers.

A pulled Roche Limit’s trigger once, queuing a shot on the left raider, and S.A.T.S. ended. I ducked down as his companion pointed his gun back at me, but the rain of bullets stopped after a second. There was a momentary scream, followed by a gurgle and then a thump. Peaking my head back up, I was greeted with what looked less like the handiwork of a pistol and more that of a machine gun.

A large, clean hole had been placed where the middle of his chest should have been, his a thread of muscle and skin all that was connecting the bottom of his neck to the rest of his body. There was no sign of blood splatter, no bits of muscle, organ, or bone anywhere. Everything that had filled that hole was just… gone.

It was enough to unsettle his friend, who had started to scream before stifling it in some vague attempt to seem tough. Gold didn’t care, the lack of bullets flying leading to an easy opening. He didn’t give the raider a chance to react, shotgun held point blank to their face.

A powerful, earth-shaking thump, the slight kick of said shotgun, and there wasn’t a face left to speak of. Their frontal lobe was firmly destroyed, very little of what could count as a muzzle remaining under it. It was visceral, unlike Roche Limit, but that felt so much more right.

Guns took away the more personal aspects of killing that had come from the Equestrian dark ages. Spears, swords, axes and otherwise all involved personally interacting with the enemy to bring them down. It's my belief that the brutality of those weapons led to a greater understanding of the lives being taken. It allowed the actions to feel more regrettable.

Archery took away some of that personal touch, but they hadn’t done it near the extent firearms had. A pony could fire a shot from the top of a Manehattan skyscraper to the streets below, killing someone from so far away there was very little personal touch to it. The only bit that remained was the splatter of blood and innards bullet impacts created, no matter how big or small.

Roche Limit had no real impact, no kick, was far more silent than expected, and while it left a gaping hole there didn’t seem like any real impact. Nothing about it felt personal; nothing about it felt right.

At the end of the day the only pony it mattered to was myself, most likely. I’m sure raiders didn’t care about how personal it felt and just enjoyed spreading death and misery. With that in mind I walked over what remained of the fence, giving a passing glance to Gemini. Acknowledge it was an illusion that had drawn their attention, I then turned my attention to the body I had created.

“Pretty damn quiet for such a big mess,” Sharpshot said, walking at a slower pace than usual for his injured wife.

Gold looked behind him, a sharp breath leaving his nostrils. “Direct shot. Makes sense it looks like this.”

“The damage doesn’t matter. Dead is dead, and that’s what counts,” I replied, renouncing that piece of me unsatisfied with the kill in the most indirect manner possible. Willow Wisp was a more important subject anyways. “How bad is it?”

“For any other pony this probably would be pretty bad,” she said, wincing as she stomped her injured hoof. There wasn’t a rhythm to the stomps, pain no doubt causing her to pause without meaning it. “Nothing a bit of healing or radiation won’t fix.”

“If you say so.”

Never judge an alicorn’s healing ability. The things they can come back from and live through borders on absurd.

With Willow injured, Sharpshot rudely delegated the task of breaking fencing to Gold and myself. His wife complained she could still do it, but he wasn’t about to put her in that amount of danger until she had healed. As much as I hated being talked to like some recruit, I did understand where he was coming through. I would do the same for Anchor; Anchor would do the same for me.

“Two houses away now, so let's discuss this a bit,” I whispered, ignoring the corpse under my hooves, staining this particular backyard with a pool of blood. It had felt as unsatisfactory as every other kill with Roche Limit. “They likely know we are coming, so it is possible they’ll have something rigged up on the fence. Mines, some grenade trap, maybe a friend of two waiting in silence to put a bullet in our heads. They are likely expecting us at this point.”

“So we can’t get to them through the back,” Gemini summarized. It was good to see she was smart enough to figure out that much.

I gave her the faintest signs of a smile as a form of reward. “Correct, so we’ll do the one thing they aren’t expecting: go through the front.”

Gold looked at me with curiosity, rubbing his beak with his talons. “Unsure if good idea. They could still be there.”

“Which is why you and I will be the only two heading in. Hit ‘em fast, hit ‘em hard.”

“Not the worst idea, even if it is simple,” Sharpshot said with a shrug. He rose the abomination up to Gold, the griffon dismissing it with a wave. “Really? It’s griffon in origin, you know.”

“I’ll keep to normal guns, thanks. Simple typically better.”

“Your lost geezer. This might be your only chance in your twilight years.”

Gold chuckle, grinning. “At least I have death at the end of the road. Can you say same, ghoul?”

Whatever reaction Sharpshot had to that, I didn’t care. Gold turned away from him and to me, the two of us stepping away from the group for the moment. All I did was smirk, holding in laughter. He may have been a backstabbing piece of shit, but Gold certainly had a respectable and fun sense of humor. A quick glance to my wings reminded me that I technically wasn’t supposed to fly. Looking up to the roof, I made the quick rationalization that I wasn’t flying, just jumping really high.

“I’ll meet you on top.”

With a jump and powerful flap of my wings, I “jumped” onto the roof. It resulted in me inhaling through my teeth, eyes narrowing slightly. With a roll of my shoulder, I composed myself and glanced down at the house directly next to us. The sounds of wings in motion, followed by the scratching of claws on the old as fuck roofing told me Gold had joined me. He kept his body low for safety reasons..

“No immediate threats. Onto the next roof.”

“You know I said not to- nevermind she’s in the air again.”

Sharpshot’s advice had once again been given merit as I landed on the next roof, grabbing it as well as possible after landing. With a slight limp in my step, I slowly trotted up to the roof’s crest, allowing me to look down on the road below. It was here that it turned in the shape of a “u”, a building that still had the faintest amount of white paint on its front, the last looking down the road. It was also the next closest house to me.

Laying down, using the angled roof to hide me, I watched for any sign of movement. As my ears twitched at the sound of Gold landing behind me, I noticed the slight protrusion of a gun barrel out of the window of the off-white house. That was the sniper no doubt, unable to see me and with no clue I had seen them. With their position identified, I checked the rest of the street to see if there were any other hostiles in my line of sight.

“Pegasus okay?”

I briefly glanced at the griffon laying down next to me, then back to the road. “Yeah. I’ve had worse, just like Willow.”

“Really? Mind sharing?” He looked at him, noticing the comforting smile on his face. “Share one of yours, and I do the same. We both have lots, even if yours are hidden better.”

“Proper doctors and medical procedures help with that.”

“Certainly. Wish I had that, during time as Talon.”

“For instance…,” I I trailed a hoof along my body, stopping at the top of my stomach. “Right here, first trip to the surface as a recruit. Command wanted us to know how bad you fuckers are and… well… sometimes I think I can still feel fragmentation.”

“Must have been scary.”

“Like a trypanophobe seeing their blood get drawn. I didn’t feel it at first but once I saw the blood, the punctures ....”

“Lost supper?”

“Was breakfast, actually.”

His eyes went away from me to the pile of two century old houses that made up eastern Trotson. A talon drew my attention to a particularly nasty bare spot in his neck feathers, showing malformations where long, thin marks were. They weren’t from a bullet, they weren’t from some pony else. I’d been around enough depressed and suicidal soldiers to see the marks of a pegasus harming themselves for unknown reasons.

“Why did you do it?”

In hindsight, it was definitely not the first question Gold wanted to hear. The way he frowned showed it.

“Job went bad. Protection for merchants, simple affair. Got unprofessional, got dumb, and then death. They were… foals. All three of them were foals.”

I leaned away. “You got their foals killed?”

“No. They weren’t merchant’s children.” He closed his eyes, deeply inhaling before loudly exhaling. “They were merchants. One foal looked like Lucky. Fuck up, got them killed, fucked myself up.”

There was regret on his face, but it didn’t seem to be drowning him. The memory hurt, I’m sure, but instead it strangely made him more… determined? Confident? Something like that. He didn’t want to make the same mistake, though whether the mistake was about beating himself up or getting ponies killed wasn’t clear for a moment.

Then I remembered the cigars, and it hit me that it was most likely the latter.

“The surface is a complicated place,” I mumbled, rising up a slight bit to look over everywhere that wasn’t the road. “For foals to have to work… let the goddesses protect them; let Luna guide those who are no longer with us to the atara above.”

Gold cocked his head, and then rose to his full height. He straightened his head, and then gave me a firm nod.

“Let Great Egg bring them to happier places.”

As enlightening as the conversation was, this wasn’t what we needed to be focused. “Not seeing anypony, which should mean it’s either just the sniper, she has friends inside the house, or there are ponies down the street I’m not seeing.”

Gold got the hint, a pop greeting my ears as he stretched. Luna, I was not looking forward to my bones and muscles doing that on a constant basis. My body already wasn’t in the best shape from the few surgeries and shit I had gotten once entering the more political side of the Enclave.

“Still “hit fast, hit hard” plan?” He asked, wings spread wide. Just one of them could be draped over my body and hide me, like a filly hiding under blankets.

I nodded. “We get the jump on them, we avoid getting shot. Sounds like common sense, but I’ve trained enough soldiers to know how easily it can be forgotten.”

“Heh. Just like new Talon.” He took a step forward, then looked back over his wings to me. “Want help getting down? Will help shoulder.”

While my injured shoulder pleaded for me to take his offer up, my brain spat on what had been a pleasant – if a bit dark – conversation. I flicked my wings out, marched over the center of the roof in perfect tempo and rhythm, and took flight. The fact my shoulder protested my stubbornness with pain as I landed on the concrete sidewalk did not matter. The wound was still close, I’m sure my shoulder was fine, and I was fit to fight.

Take that you self-centered walking corpse!

Holding the piece of disappointment Gold called Roche Limit at the ready, I limped forward. Gold choosing to nearly land above me caused me to move to veer left for a moment. I looked at the shotgun in his talons, wishing I had it instead. Thankfully, I was smart enough to know that probably would be far less kind to my shoulder than the roofing and concrete had been.

As we reached the off-white house, I steeled myself for whatever was to come. I briefly eyes the door, and then shook my head. Those were a deathtrap when dealing with raiders; you never knew what was on the other side. I looked at the window the rifle barrel had been through, noting how it pointed upwards.

They were away from the window, or at least didn’t have their hooves on the rifle. There was no red dots, meaning they weren’t an immediate threat and I couldn’t tell where they were. I looked to Gold, motioning to the window. We both knew the risk, especially if the sniper was on the other side, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Slowly and steadily, I crept up until the rifle was almost right above me.

First thing to do: make sure the deadly weapon was not an immediate reach in case they were right there. They couldn’t see me, and I couldn’t see them, meaning the moment I reached up to grab it I would know if they were watching or not, so I had to be quick. With that in mind, I reached up, wrapped my hooves around it as far away from the end of the barrel as possible, and yanked.

Right as the receiver entered view, somepony yanked back.

If they said something, I didn’t care. A logical piece of me reprimanded my plan, but the rest of me said that this was not the time to be talking about stupidity. Ignoring the ache in my shoulder, I stood on my hind hooves and tugged again. Gold reached around me, and joined in, our combined strength overpowering the mare's own.

She let go. As smoothly as possible, I turned the rifle around until the extremely heavy sniper rifle – very likely chambered in .50 – was pointing at the bitch who had shot me in the ear earlier. The look on her face was priceless, pure horror and shock mixing together into a beautiful cacophony of dread. If only I had gotten to watch it longer, because as soon as I pulled the trigger…

Chunk!

… I screamed.

In my haste, I rested the rifle on my wounded shoulder before firing. What several small flights were unable to do, this rifle had done as quick as the original dashtie herself. I felt my already fractured shoulder completely break, shards splintering and cutting through my muscle tissue. None punched skin, but fuck it hurt. I was just glad my neck was still holding my head to my body. The mare I had taken the rifle from had learned that was as fatal as it sounded.

I dropped the sniper rifle, quickly hurrying myself up against the wall and away from the window. Gold looked as terrified as the new corpse had, though for much different reasons I assumed. Regret didn’t begin to describe how fucked my shoulder felt. Sharpshot was gonna be pissed, and worse of all for a damn good reason.

“We got her,” I said in a strained tone. “Not how I imagined but we got her.”

There was another red dot on my radar, but I wasn’t exactly paying attention. All I know is that Gold looked up, brought his shotgun up, loaded three rounds, and fired. The lack of a red dot afterwards was enough to make me believe in that moment, allowing me to put all thoughts into gripping what I had broken.

Gold suddenly filled the majority of my vision, letting out a sigh before taking Roche Limit back. The back of his talon faced me, looking ready to give me a hit with the back of his fist. I’m not sure what stopped him, he quickly switched to lifting my uninjured forehoof around him. A shake of his head was how he decided to show his disappointment when physicality and words failed.

“I wanted to show him up, after insulting my lineage like that,” I explained. “I wanted to make it clear I wasn’t what he thought I thought.”

Another sharp breath from the griffon. “Showed him good, it seems. So good, you broke yourself.”

I smiled through the pain, each throb of pain causing the frown that really wanted to show take over. “Can’t break what's broken.”

“You consider yourself broken?”

“Yes. Perhaps not as bad as someponies, but I do.”

I looked at where he was taking me. It was back in the direction of the rest of the crew we had gathered up. Any fight I had was focused on bearing through the pain, leaving what emotions and memories I had to come through the forefront. One particular memory burst forth through the foggy haze of memories. A memory I didn’t usually think about.

“Eighteen years old, just made it through basic,” I stated quietly. He stopped moving, looking at me. “Figured he would be proud of me for the first time. He got angry, all the fear that had disappeared over basics came back, and I felt small again. Called me a retard, blamed me for absolute nonsense. One moment we were eye level, the next… heh, Luna he tried so fucking hard but I wasn’t having it anymore. Showed that fucker up for what he did to me, in a lawful way of course.”

I laughed. None of what I was saying was a laughing matter, but I laughed anyway. Goddesses, Dead Hooves was right about those two. I never really denied it, but I always liked to pretend it was better than it was. What I said about him being better than my mother stands though. For all the hurt, he never killed anypony.

Gold looked off into nothing. “Many in wasteland have that struggle. Bad parents make bad ponies. For your faults – your bads – pegasus is better than expected.”

“If you're expecting me to give you some compliment in return, I’ll remind you that you stabbed me in the back.” Despite my voice originally being filled with hate, in the end it lingered away to forlorn recollection. “He… both of them were horrible. When I found Anchor – when we decided on foals – I told him I to keep an eye on me. I wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything they would do.”

Up until five days ago, the last day up in the clouds, I had succeeded at just that. Then I left them, and nine years of success had gone down the drain. Willow was right about me doing this for them, but that doesn’t excuse me leaving them. It didn’t excuse the fact that it was entirely possible Clear and Rainy would never have a mother. It didn’t excuse that I had left Anchor.

I’ll spare ponies the horrid task of having to listen to Sharpshot – justifiably or not – barrage me with insults and questions. The point is he was correct about almost every single thing he said about me. What I had done was dumb, self-destructive (self-projecting much), and most of all really, really bad. What healing my shoulder had done had been effectively ruined by several bad decisions, all because of pride.

I’m sure he thought about asking me to pinkie promise that I wouldn’t ever ignore a doctor’s orders again, but he didn’t. Probably because he didn’t believe I would listen to him, and also because not every doctor in the Equestrian Wasteland was a good doctor. Plenty of posers exists, using illiteracy and lack of basic education to get the better of ponies. More than a few addicts, well known raiders, and horrid deaths had been created by such ponies.

At least the job of clearing our way had been taken care of, though that doesn’t make up for me shattering my shoulder into far too many pieces. Sharpshot forced me to ride on Willow Wisp for the rest of the trip. It gave me time to think about what Gold had said about me. These “bads” that he claimed I had.

I wasn’t perfect. Anypony who thought they were was delusional beyond the point of saving. It didn’t make the exact faults he was talking about easier to pin down. My pride? Hardly thought of it as bad; everypony needed a little self-esteem and I considered myself decently within check ego-wise. Did I resemble my father in some way?

No. No way in tartarus I resembled him. I drank far less than him, and I had never thrown the anger he used at me towards Clear and Rainy. Even in abandoning them, I had never gotten that horribly angry. A look to the radio nestled into my saddlebags, having survived every encounter so far.

Ironsight’s voice would come through it in three days' time. That was my best shot at getting an outside, trusted opinion.

Until then I was a mare with a broken shoulder, laying on an alicorn, walking towards some secret societies’ hideout. If the rest of the Enclave council knew what I had gone through in four days on the surface, they’d either shit themselves or laugh their asses off. Maybe both if they weren’t too busy fearing more Calamity-like ponies popping up.

“You know, I was looking forward to our little one-on-one match too,” Sharpshot said in the most guilt trippy voice a ghoul could muster. I’m damn certain he had said that exact same line twice by now, like the script he had in his head didn’t know how to take my silence. “Would have shown ya some things I’m certain no G.P.E. mare has ever seen. Kick your ass like the Enclave kicks out the unpatriotic.”

“That is a very heavily kicked ass,” Willow replied rather unhelpfully.

“And everypony would have watched as the most civilized mare in the wasteland,” I felt my eye twitch “got her butt whooped by some lowly ghoul. How is that for wasteland pride?”

“Your pride is explosions, dead bodies, and debauchery,” I told him. “Don’t be proud of it, especially in the presence of somepony who had to horribly deal with two of those.”

I gave a knowing look to Shining Gemini, the mare’s eyes flicking away from me as soon as I was. As long as I looked at her, she trembled. The words I said when Sharpshot sent my anger boiling over must have hit her rather bad. It didn’t matter if I was correct, she didn’t deserve it.

Until basic, I had been a lot like her. Everything felt terrifying, but when Ironsight and I were in training something about that just… faded. Parts of it sucked – I couldn’t call myself “in shape” at that point in time – but I came out a more intelligent, brave mare. I came out of it a soldier, not mentally stable but the Enclave didn’t have the room the pegasi to say otherwise.

A little harmed filly had turned into a member of the council. It was an inspirational story for all pegasi, easy to turn into propaganda. Just it being another pegasus to some raider, and nopony would be the wiser. Too bad it never got told, because that council mare was now a Dashite.

“My words earlier weren’t pointed at you, Gemini,” I said. She gave me a very brief glance before looking away. I used that brief moment to find the best words to apologize in the most roundabout way possible. “Forget about them. The things I said weren’t necessary.”

“Oh, um, okay,” she replied. “Though, uh, can I be honest about something?”

“Of course. Honesty is a good thing.”

“You… you’re terrifying.”

I blinked, confused. It wasn’t that I didn’t expect it, because in a way I wanted to be terrifying. I want to make sure anypony who dared to ever become my enemy was scared out of their mind. It would make them easier to take down, or downright avoid me all together.

Yet here I was, likely as vulnerable as I possibly could be, and she was still scared. I looked at my broken shoulder, and then back to Gemini in intrigue.

“I wouldn’t call myself that scary look at the moment.”

She lowered her head, ears flattened. “I-I know, but you look scary when you're really angry. You also get angry really easily, and then this M.A.M. thing you built, and what you made Miss Breaker do in Sandstone and–“

“Miss Breaker?”

My question seemed innocent, but nearly the entire group recoiled at me mentioning Bone Breaker. Since I was already looking at Gemini’s her reaction was the one I took in the most. Her jaw quivered, eyes wide and staring at some invisible monster that had appeared from nowhere. Similar, if far more subdued was Sharpshot, though that may have just come from only seeing his eyes. Gold simply closed his eyes, scowling.

That left me and Willow suddenly in front of all of them. All this, just to mention the mare who put us in this situation. A gasp brought my attention to the alicorn I was riding on top of. She looked at me, scared. The fear was not pointed at me specifically, but it surrounded me like a cold wind.

A cold wind that turned to below zero temperatures in a nanosecond, remembering how I had gotten Angel Hair’s destination out of Lucky Heart.

“Gold.” I said to the griffon. He opened his eyes, giving me a knowing look. “Lucky asked me to punish either Bone Breaker or Razor. I choose the former.” He nodded, already knowing this all. I think he appreciated me telling my side of it all, given the tenseness in his body changed. “What did she do to her?”

He closed his eyes again, bringing one talon to his chest in prayer. I watched him mumble in a voice too quiet for me to hear, Sharpshot and Willow looking at him. Gemini tried her best to focus her eyes, but whatever she wanted to look at proved too difficult. She stared at the invisible monster her own voice had created as Gold opened his eyes once again.

“I was told to save Sharpshot and Gemini,” He said. His voice was slower, his sentence feeling fully flesh out for the first time since I met him. I thought he didn’t have a good grasp on Equestria, but it seemed I was wrong. “Did it. Spilt no blood too. Walked out of Stable 71 and they were all just… everyone in Sandstone was there. Bone Breaker and her son were front and center. Then she mentioned retribution for the dead and… brought her shotgun to her lips.”

My body felt as cold and heavy as a corpse, pure horror filling every vein in my body.

“Remember how I broke some shit they installed in you?” Sharpshot asked. I wanted to nod, but my body refused to move. “Now you know why.”

With most of my muscles locked up, all I could do was look in the direction I believed he was in. “You mean, the reason she killed herself….”

“While it was her hooves that pulled the trigger, the voice that came out of her mouth was most definitely not hers,” He explained in a solemn tone. “She was being used like a puppet, and the puppetmaster had decided it was time to cut her strings.”

“And the pony who cut them?”

A heavy sigh left Gold’s beak. “Lucky Heart.”

Willow eyes went wide, mine following suit. “She… she made Boney… so Sharpy was right?”

“They’re sneaky fucks,” Sharpshot said. Drawn out steps hit my ears, and I forced my muscles to turn towards the ghoul. “They want control, plain and simple. They control the food, water, ammo, guns, but that wasn’t enough apparently. They wanted the ponies' minds as well, and one of the little pieces of tech is some M.o.I. and M.o.M. project that allows just that.”

…

I… I killed her. Indirect as it may have been, I just killed Broken Record. She had lied to me about things, tried to get me killed but… she was a mother.

I killed a mother.

No words could express my horror, and even calling the feeling I felt horror felt wrong. The world felt like it stretched, everything becoming distant as my eyes tunneled into the same exact monster Gemini had likely seen. Though, monster was not the right word. A thinner, less focused illusion was between Gold and myself, pony in shape and yet not at the same exact time. It was red one minute, blue the next, and looking right back at me with all-knowing eyes.

“MoNsTeR. MoNsTeR. YoU’rE a MoNsTeR!”

Those words were said with a distorted soul-wounding wail that could not be placed. Its form encompassed all my sight, keeping me stock still. I was a soldier, a member of the Enclave, this fear it placed in my heart shouldn’t have had any hold. Yet, like with those who died in that disaster of a mission five years prior, I know well that voice and that form belonged to somepony I know. Somepony who I had hurt horribly.

“Bone… Break…er?”

“WhY? WhY? WhY?!” She screamed at me. “I wAs HaPpY. SaNdStOnE wAs AlMoSt InDePeNdEnT. WhY dId YoU rUiN eVeRyThInG? WhY dId YoU sElL hIm To ShAdOw CoRp?!”

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know.” The words felt more mouthed than spoken with how quiet and small I suddenly felt. “I didn’t mean to kill you.”

“YoU kIlLeD mE. YoU hUrT eVeRyPoNy I lOve. WhY dOeSn’T mAtTeR! DiE! DiE! D… d….”

Suddenly, Bone Breaker was much farther away from me. She wasn’t some crazed all encompassing monster anymore. It was just her and myself, the world around us seeming like a void rather than the city it truly was. The spirit sat there, crying in much the same way the ghost filly had earlier. Except, while the filly had looked perfectly normal when she looked up at me, Bone Breaker had long dark tear trails on her face… and blood dripping from her face.

“Do you know what they do to those who fuck with the Invisible Mare?” She asked me, not giving me time to respond. “Then I hope you’re ready to find out. I hope it shows you the wrongs that might never, ever be righted. The pain and suffering you have caused.”

Then my entire face went cold.

As if waking from a dream, I lurched up as much as possible and immediately regretted it, closing my eyes and grasping my broken shoulder. My face was soaked, cold, was oddly sticky, and for some reason I smelled carrots. When I finally reopened my eyes, I found I was still on Willow’s back. Gold had a now half empty bottle of Sparkle-cola, which seemed to be tilted towards me.

We hadn’t moved an inch, still in the middle of the road surrounded by falling down houses and the like. I was also still on Willow Wisp, her looking at me with clear concern. Sharpshot was off to the side, seeming less worried and more interested in watching me. Then there was Gemini, mane drenched in the carroty smell of Sparkle-cola just like me. We both seemed shell-shocked, meaning that she must have also seen the ghost of Bone Breaker. Though that did bring up the question on how she hadn’t seen the filly or Dead Hooves.

“Good. Pegasus still with us,” Gold said, a sad, half-assed chuckle leaving his throat. He was talking in broken sentences again. “You stared off. You okay?”

The simple thing to do was say “I’m fine” and be done with it all. Then everything I had just seen would shove into the darkest pits of my mind to never be touched again. That felt impossible. Both ghastly forms the spirit of Bone Breaker had taken were stamped into the front of my mind like an image burned into a projector screen. On top of all of it, my brain was overthinking and the lukewarm liquid that soaked my face hadn’t helped.

“Y-you all saw that, right?” The blank stares I got gave me my answer. “It was… I think it was her. There was nopony else it could have been. She… I think she wants me dead.”

“But…but you didn’t know. I didn’t know. We didn’t mean to kill her!” Willow replied, lowering her head. “We didn’t mean to. She was a meany in some regards, but she didn’t deserve that. She isn’t like a lot of other raiders.”

“That hasn’t stopped ponies before,” Sharpshot called out. He was playfully resting the sniper responsible for my broken shoulder against the back of his neck. Apparently it was to remind me to never question a doctor’s orders. “It’s always easier to shift the blame onto others. From the sounds of it, Breaker was playing with fire and got burnt.”

Gemini took a small step forward, her eyes refusing to remain on Sharpshot no matter how much she tried. “You… you don’t even feel bad.”

He shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, it sucks for everypony else around her, but she kept fucking around with my wife’s trigger word. Lucky did what I wanted to do, but was holding off on for Willow’s sake.”

“Not sure if I should thank you for holding back or be upset you wanted to kill her too.”

As they continued to talk, Gold came up to me. I looked the griffon in the eyes, and he looked back down at me before letting out a long sigh. He patted me on the head, sorrow as clear on his face as possible for a creature like himself.

“Was always told lack of ghost seeing was good things by those who had it. You now see why.”

I briefly looked at the road below us, and then backed up to him. “So what I saw is normal?”

“Unfortunately. In old times, Zebras saw it as important gift. Helped lay dead soldiers and, when war came, would sometimes be used to convince them to come back,” His wings shifted uncomfortably, tail momentarily going straight from chills. “Zebra spirits trust these zebras to put to rest, so was easy to convince dead to accept necromatic life. As time went, ghost sight made these zebras feared. More forceful means were necessary to bring dead to life.”

“If it was an important part of Zebra culture, I can’t imagine ponies having it would be considered good to the Equestrians.”

He gave me a nod. “Always believed to be Zebra spies. No ponies trusted them.”

“Then the world ended, and everything went to tartarus.”

“Making ghosts dangerous. Violent. Destructive. Saw one griffon, originally lucky to gain gift of ghost sight, reduced to vegetable from ghosts destroying their minds. We… put her out of misery”

I stared blankly, feeling void of emotions. There should have been terror placed in my heart but instead I just felt… empty. That could happen to ponies? That could happen to me? My heart was thumping harder than a bass drum, the picture of me unable to do anything. It was all too possible.

“This… I’m not sure, but I’ve dealt with spirits like her before,” I told him. “Sometimes I can hear the Enclave soldier that died here in Trotson scream at me. It was especially bad those first four days after; I have no memory of it, and by the sounds of it I didn’t really exist.”

“To have the dead hate you is undeniably unpleasant,” He commented. I nodded at him, knowing all too well how right he was. “Yet not vegetable. Mind is still there. How?”

I thought about it for a bit, then smiled. “Iron Anchor, my husband. He broke me out of it, brought me back to the waking world. Perhaps it is less that they break somepony’s mind, and more they overwhelm it. Everything is drowned out, the only thing you can hear being their hate and anger.”

“Would like to believe that, but I don’t. Pegasus just lucky. Griffon didn’t move, needed help to eat, bath, shit. You not like that.” Despite the dread his words provided, he smiled. “Though, perhaps there is hope in there. If you can be broken free, then not all lost. Just need your anchor.”

“He’s in the Enclave still.”

“Then find another.”

“You realize what you just said, right?”

He briefly glanced away in shame and embarrassment before looking back at me. “I’ll rephrase. Find new anchor. Pony, grffon, or zebra who free you, in case you are ever overwhelmed that way. Somepony you trust and stand by, no matter what.”

He moved away from me and in front of the whole group, clapping his talons together to draw attention. I drowned his words out, needing only to take the sudden movement of the ponies around me to know what he had said. Instead, I thought about what he had said. A piece of it still felt wrong, but I knew what he was trying to say.

The idea of finding a new Iron Anchor left me conflicted and confused. It felt like he was asking me to betray the pony I loved. Even if I would never see him again, Anchor and I been in a relationship since I my early twenties, back when he was a cloudship pilot. That couldn’t be taken away or changed so easily, and leaving him had already hurt so much.

I didn’t want to completely abandon him.

Yet, for all the wrong things the grounder had said, he was right about the basic idea. If ghosts could turn me into an unthinking mass of organs and skin, then I needed somepony to be there for me. A friend that would be there when ghosts tried to make me disappear. It was unfortunate I only had grounders around me to do that with, but I didn’t have a choice.

Especially if, when I entered that storm, I witnessed more than just the screams of those I had gotten killed.

Author's Note

Well this chapter was a marathon and a half to write. I had originally planned for it to be longer but the longer this all went on the more I realized it was best to shift what was going to be the latter half of the chapter into a separate chapter.

We are almost at the end of act 1 though, for all curious. Hope you all have been enjoying the ride so far, and that you continue to enjoy it as time goes on.