I gleefully skipped alongside my new companions. Shrapnel, the stallion with the eyepatch, grumbled something under his breath about me staying closer. Clearly, he hadn’t realized that the roles of protection and protectee were the other way around! I couldn’t fault his enthusiasm, however, every time I slowed down to look at anything he bumped into me with his rifle, reminding me to keep moving.

We had been walking for the better part of two hours, carefully following the trail left by the cart. I counted five sets of tracks around it. As long as I have more bullets than there are bad ponies, everything should be okay! I thought.

After the skirmish against the strange robe-wearing ponies, the surface-dwellers had replaced some of their crude scrap weaponry for shiny and well-maintained rifles and pistols. As well as filling some of their saddlebags with medical supplies, food, and bottle caps, which I now knew served as currency in the wasteland.

“Aye, Black Light, was it?” The stallion trailing me asked.

“That’s me,” I said, stopping to stare at a boulder that had fallen on the sidewalk.

A cold object was pressed against my flank, pushing me forward. I turned to see an annoyed-looking Shrapnel. Understanding the gesture, I got up and kept moving.

“So where exactly did ya come from? ‘Cause you seem awfully clean and… uh… well-fed,” The stallion continued. He tilted his head slightly to look at my ribcage, which, unlike his, wasn’t visible through my coat, a confused expression plastered on his face. It was rather amazing how a pony with a single eye could still convey so much expression.

I was even more amazed by what he had said, however. I was wearing my stable barding, with its big yellow ‘75’ clear in view.

“I’m from stable 75!” I explained, showing off the number, “You know… heroes of the surface? Defenders of the defenseless? Never heard of us?”

“Can’t say ah have,” Came the disappointing reply, “But tah be fair we never really stick around one place enough tah hear stuffs, and we don’t got no radio,” The earth pony explained.

Oh, well that makes sense, I doubt these surface ponies have any way of spreading news quickly. I thought, understanding the situation a little bit more. That would be a little bit of a problem, my plan kind of hinged on capitalizing on the goodwill garnered by the other graduates. But if what Shrapnel said was true, there wouldn’t be that much goodwill among the smaller groups, and that was if I could even track the others down!

“No radio?” I asked, maybe they had some other way of spreading information.

“Nah, we used to have one, but ol’ Shrapnel here blew it up,” The mare who was walking next to me, Barbed Wire, interjected, “By accident” She added, giving Shrapnel a disappointed glance as she said the last word.

“Aw come on, Ah just thought it was a-” The stallion started, but he was cut off by the mare once more.

“You? Thinking? Now that’s hilarious!” She all but shouted, busting into another fit of laughter.

A frustrated grunt came from the red stallion, but he remained quiet. The conversation about the radio, however, had tugged at my memory. I glanced at my PipBuck for a moment and opened up the data menus, trying my hardest to remember what I had read in the instruction manual.

“I think there’s a radio in here,” I commented.

“Ya can fiddle with that thing later!” Shrapnel ordered, jamming my back with his rifle barrel again.

“Okay, okay!” I said, getting back up. No need to be so pushy!

That was when the dark blue stallion in the back spoke up, Pot, I remembered.

“That’s an impressive piece of gear,” He said with his odd singsongy voice, “I’ve never seen one myself. They’re called PipBucks, right?”

Now that was a good sign, PipBucks were exclusively stable technology. If he knew what a PipBuck was, he could have some information on the others. But then again, he didn’t say anything when I talked about my stable specifically.

“Yeah, that’s right, have you heard of them?” I asked, showing off the device.

“Aye, they’re from those stable-tec places, right?” He answered.

“Exactly, every adult in my stable has one,” I explained.

Shrapnel leaned in again, raising his eyebrow.

“This stable place sure seems nice,” He commented, “Ah’m surprised it’s still around,”

“What? why?” I asked.

“Probably the steel rangers, if they knew there was a big group of ponies strutting around with pre-war tech they would’ve probably attacked it,” Pot explained.

That would partially explain why they didn’t know about my stable, perhaps the others simply avoided saying where it was to keep these steel rangers away. I was surprised to know that the steel rangers were still a thing, I had assumed they disappeared just like everything else did after the war. Seems like the wasteland has warped them into something more akin to a raider group, that could be a problem.

“Wait a second, wasn’t that stallion I killed earlier wearing steel ranger armor?” I asked, remembering the blonde leader of the robed ponies.

Now it was Double Cross’ turn to laugh. I turned back around to look at the group leader, wondering what could be so funny.

“That was no steel ranger, that was Temperance. Why’d you think we didn’t shoot you on the spot?” He said.

“So he was with some other group?” I inquired.

“With? He was one of their leaders,” Double Cross answered, chuckling to himself, “He and the other six call themselves the Virtues, nasty lot. They want everypony to live under their rule, whether they like it or not,”

Huh… that’s strange. I would imagine that a consistent stream of strong graduates would’ve kept any oppressors at bay. But the fact that it was apparently not the case was… troubling, to say the least. Maybe they tried to stop it, but had to flee… or maybe they…

I shook my head to try and clear out the bad thoughts, I couldn’t let anything lower my morale! The other graduates were definitely alive, and either hiding to gather strength or actively resisting these Virtue ponies. I had to do my part as well!

“Tell me more about them,” I demanded, “If they truly are as unjust as you say, then I must do everything in my power to restore true justice!” I lifted my forehoof triumphantly for added effect.

Double Cross looked at me with a raised eyebrow, but nonetheless, he continued to explain.

“I don’t know much other than them being a bunch of nutcases in robes, they take whatever they want in the name of ‘keeping everypony safe’. They have seven leaders… or, well, I guess they just have six now that you took out Temperance,”

No wonder they trust me! I killed one of the evilest ponies in the wasteland right in front of their eyes! I thought, ecstatic, I was already one step closer to bringing justice back to the wasteland!

We continued walking, making our way out of the ruins and into the open wasteland. Buildings were replaced by dry shrubs and rocks, the cracked sidewalks giving way to tightly packed dirt. It was a shocking change, going from the comfort of being surrounded by walls to the vulnerability of being out in the open.

The darkness didn’t help in the slightest. And even less considering there wasn’t much of a warning, the clouds went from dirty gray to slightly orange, and then rapidly to black. Back in the stable, ‘nighttime’ just meant that the bright white light of the halls was replaced by a softer blue light. Out here, it seemed to be pitch-black darkness.

“It’s getting awfully dark, I can turn on my PipBuck light if you want,” I offered to my companions.

“No, it’ll draw too much attention,” Double Cross responded, “But it is getting dark, we should stop for the night,”

“Are you sure, Cross? If they know we’re after them they’ll just take a short breather and keep going,” Burning commented, walking forward to stand side-by-side with Double Cross.

“They will, but the tracks will still be there. If they keep going they’ll be exhausted by the time we catch up,” The leader answered, stopping to point at a small semicircle rock formation, “We’ll make camp there,”

We walked to the rock formation, where I had the privilege of watching the group set up their camp. The first object to come out of the saddlebags was a lamp, which Burning placed in the center of the campsite. She turned it on, but dimmed it to the point where it was just bright enough to see, but not so bright as to let anyone on the other side of the rocks see the glow. The others started to take several things out of their own saddle bags, canteens, and empty tin cans and quickly gathered in front of Pot.

I hadn’t really noticed how large the saddle bags that Pot had been carrying were until I saw him produce some kind of portable stove from its seemingly bottomless depths. Atop the stove, he then set down his namesake, a decently sized cast iron pot. Bedrolls were unfurled around the lamp as Pot stirred the soup, all covered in the same strange aluminum-esque coating. I eyed one of the rolls curiously, noticing that the metallic sheen was painted on.

“What’s with the paint job?” I asked, picking up a flake of paint that had fallen off a bedroll.

“What, this?” Barbed wire asked, gesturing towards the silvery bedding, “It’s camouflage, but we won’t be needing it for some time,”

Shining silver metal doesn’t exactly sound stealthy. These poor surface ponies truly had reverted to a nearly tribal point, they didn’t even know how to hide properly! I really had my work cut out for me with trying to make this place just and civilized again.

The sound of metal whining brought my attention to Pot, who had just finished opening two tin cans. Some dark red sludge went into the large cooking pot, along with a canteen’s worth of water. That definitely doesn’t look like food chips. I thought, disheartened.

“Anypony up for some music?” Shrapnel asked, lifting a strange wooden flute.

I looked at the instrument curiously, somehow feeling drawn to it. It looked as if it had been carved out of a single piece of wood, separated into three sections and wrapped in some white material. An intricately carved snake head could be seen on the end. With every small movement that Shrapnel made the flute filled the air with a low whistling.

“I swear to Celestia, if you blow that thing again I will blow your brains out,” Barbed Wire answered, shooting the eyepatch-wearing stallion a death glare.

“Aye, fair enough,” He answered, setting down the object, “Ah need more practice anyway,”

“I think you’d need an entire lifetime to make that thing not sound awful,” Barbed Wire stated, laughing to herself.

Shrapnel put the flute back in his backpack. I couldn’t help but feel sad about it, I was really curious as to what it sounded like. Gotta wait for a chance to get him to play it.

“This soup is almost done, get your cans ready,” Said Pot, who had been absentmindedly stirring the mixture up to this point.

I looked around as the others dug around in their saddlebags, eventually producing five tin cans. My lack of can was quickly solved by picking up one of the containers that Pot had discarded when he started to cook. The cook in question dug into his own saddlebags, producing a pair of tongs.

“Boss?” He said to Double Cross, who gave him his can.

The dark blue stallion took the empty tin can with the tongs and dipped it into the pot. One by one, the other ponies and I passed our cans to the cook, who dutifully filled each one with the off-red mixture before giving them back. I would be lying, however, if I said I didn’t stare with mistrust at the bubbling substance in my can instead of digging in like all the others did.

“It’s just tomato and carrot soup, nothing weird there,” Pot said with an almost insulted tone, before taking a sip from his own can.

Once more I pondered the container in my hooves, feeling the heat radiating from the rusty metal. It wasn’t that I wasn’t hungry, but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t have preferred some daisy chips. Tentatively I raised the can to my lips and took a sip of the hot mixture.

Oh my goodness. I thought as I desperately gulped down the entire can, it was… delicious. I drank the entirety of the delectable broth, ignoring the slight burns it gave my mouth. The standard rations from the stable, which I had once considered the pinnacle of flavor, now felt like a hazy memory of my time before entering the world of exquisiteness that this scrumptious mixture afforded. Completely overflowing my mouth with the divine mixture of taste that this stallion had produced from seemingly corporeal ingredients. In a frenzy, my horn lit up and started to painstakingly collect every last dollop of the mouth-watering soup, shoving it directly onto my tongue in a delirious fever. Once my body finally stopped shaking from the transcendent experience, I looked up to see four and a half pairs of eyes fixed on me with extremely concerned expressions.

“You uhh… you want a bit more?” Pot asked, clearing his throat and looking down nervously.
A couple of minutes later we were all sitting around the lamp, having finished the ambrosial concoction that Pot had insisted ‘Wasn’t that good’, and cleaned our cans with a bit of sand and water. Not that mine had needed much cleaning after my horn had finished ripping every last morsel of flavor off the metal.

Burning had lowered the lamp a bit more, leaving the campsite in near-darkness, but we could still see enough to make out each other’s faces. Double Cross sat closest to the lamp, cleaning out his pistol with meticulous care. I sat by his side, admiring his work. Despite his cleaning tools being of less than acceptable quality, the effect was evident when compared to the weapons that his companions were touting.

I wondered why they hadn’t thrown away their makeshift weapons now that they had the evidently better-quality ones that the robed ponies had been wielding. But after seeing the care with which they maintained their weapons, the answer became clear. Much like me, they had favorite guns. My heart ached at the loss of my beloved pistol, but at least now I had a beautiful revolver to try and fill that hole. I took out my own weapons as well, setting the pistol and revolver down beside me. The latter of the two drew my attention almost immediately. Not that there was anything wrong with a normal ten-millimeter pistol, the revolver was just shockingly beautiful.

It was incredibly ornate, engravings covered the firearm in complex patterns of black and gold. It almost seemed to dance in the light of the lamp, beckoning me to take it and use its incredible power. I recalled how it had blasted the evil ponies apart, smiling at the thought of such a powerful weapon. The gun’s mouth-grip was made out of some dark red wood, polished to perfection, on it there was a depiction of two cups pouring liquid into each other, with a simple line of text.

“In balance, all becomes clear,” I read aloud, drawing the attention of Double Cross.

“That’s the revolver you took from Temperance, right?” He inquired.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful!” I said, passing my hoof tenderly over the barrel’s engravings.

“Sure it looks pretty, but looks aren’t everything,” The stallion chuckled.

I gave him a hurt look, how could he say such an insensitive thing about a gun? Of course, the engravings provided no real tactical advantage, but just the knowledge of the gun being so beautiful was more than enough to make me want to cherish it all the more. The weapon in my hooves seemed to vibrate in agreement.

A whistling sound drew my attention to Barbed Wire, who was lying on her back some distance away from the lamp. The tune she was whistling sounded oddly familiar, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint how. She kept running her forehoof over her left flank, where a long white scar crossed over her concertina cutie mark, cutting it in half. Most likely the aftermath of a terrible wound.

“What happened to your leg?” I asked, trying to sound as respectful as possible.

The purple mare raised an eyebrow and looked down at her flank for an instant.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” She said, finally, taking her hoof off her flank and turning over to face away from me.

Touchy subject I see. I thought, making a mental note to try and get the story out of her someday.

I turned over to look at Shrapnel, who had just come back to the camp after going around the rocks to go to the bathroom. I chuckled slightly at how strange the thought of doing one's business out in the open was. The eyepatch-wearing stallion walked up to Pot, who was busy organizing whatever loot they had gotten from the robed ponies.

“Aye Pot, can ah ‘ave a swig o’ that weird booze we got?” He asked the cook.

“It’s not booze you idiot, they’re healing potions” Pot replied, rolling his eyes.

Shrapnel stood quietly for a moment before speaking up again.

“Do they got any alcohol in ‘em?”

If looks could kill, that stallion would’ve keeled over the second Pot looked up from his saddlebag.

“Fair, fair,” Shrapnel said before walking away.

Pot ignored the stallion, focusing on wrapping the pink potions in rags and carefully storing them in his cooking pot.

“Those aren’t going anywhere,” He said, proudly, “Hope we won’t need them tomorrow,”

“Nah” Barbed Wire said, looking up from her spot, “We have this menace with us!” She finished, gesturing towards me.

“I was wondering about that, actually, where did you learn to shoot like that?” Pot asked, cocking his head at me.

I gave him a smile before responding, puffing out my chest.

“Down in stable 75 we are taught how to shoot as soon as we can pick up a gun! And we run shooting exercises every couple of days, I was the best in my class!” I explained.

“So there’s just a factory o’ supersoldiers sittin’ underground?” Shrapnel asked, lifting his only eyebrow.

“Yup!” I said cheerfully.

“Huh… ain’t that a thing,” The stallion mumbled, staring back at the way we came.

Pot finally finished storing all of the supplies and got up to stretch his legs. He took a second to get a bedroll from the pile of saddlebags before walking closer to the lamp and unrolling it on the ground, lying down on the silvery bedding.

“Oh hey shrapnel, what happened to your eye?” I asked, not contempt to go to sleep without learning at least one story from my new companions.

“Ah got into a fight,” The stallion mumbled, kicking the floor.

“No you didn’t,” Barbed Wire said, interrupting the stallion before turning around to face me, “He got a little too touchy with a waitress and got an icepick shoved in his eye”

Shrapnel looked down and muttered something unintelligible.

“Ah didn’t even mean to, ah just fell,” He said, staring at Barbed Wire angrily.

“Yeah, because you were half-blind on booze!” The mare retorted, “And now you’re literally half-blind,”

Barbed Wire and Pot gave a hearty laugh, with Double Cross just letting out a low chuckle. Shrapnel lowered his head, but raised it again when I walked up to him and placed my hoof on his shoulder.

“For what it’s worth, I think it makes you look cool,” I said.

“Aye, thanks, Black Light,” He said, giving me a smile full of crooked teeth.

We sat around in silence for a while longer before Burning finally came down from the spot on top of the rocks where she had been keeping guard. She wiggled out of her battle saddle and went to grab her own bedroll, stretching it out next to Pot’s. Instead of lying down, however, she turned around to face away from the sleeping cook.

In a single, lightning-fast motion, the mare gave the stallion a kick in the ribs. Pot went flying into the air from the shock, screaming in terror before landing on his hooves. I had to give it to him, his acrobatics were impeccable.

“Gha! What is wrong with you?” He exclaimed, looking around with unfocused eyes.

“Nothing, you were just too comfortable,” The mare answered, drawing a chuckle from the other ponies.

I looked at Burning for a moment, trying to get a good view of her flank. The other surface-dwellers' cutie marks had been relatively easy to see. Shrapnel’s was a depiction of an exploding grenade, and Barbed Wire’s remaining one showed a concertina. Pot’s was, unsurprisingly, a pot. Double Cross’ cutie mark was a simple black rose. The flower did compliment the stallion’s more refined demeanor when compared with his companions. But Burning’s? Hers was still a mystery. She was the only one in the group whose strange harness-like barding covered both of her cutie marks. Maybe it’s something fire-related. I thought. It made sense, but it didn’t explain why she would go out of her way to cover them.

“So, who’s takin’ the second watch?” Burning asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Ah will, y’all get some sleep” Shrapnel offered, getting up and walking towards his weapons.

Once the stallion had strapped his battle saddle onto himself, he turned to look at me and pointed to the sleeping roll he had just vacated.

“Ya can use mine to sleep until ah’m finished with mah guard,” The eyepatch-wearing stallion said, smiling at me before heading up the rockpile to keep guard.

“Good night,” Pot grumbled before reaching out to turn the lamp completely off.

“Sleep tight!” I answered, completing the phrase.

“Uhhh… thanks?” Pot muttered.

The night was uneventful, but I couldn’t say I was a big fan of sleeping on the ground. Once Shrapnel’s guard had ended I thought I’d get to sleep on the next vacant bedroll, but the others seemed far less keen on lending theirs. Yet time went on, and night slowly turned into day, flooding the wasteland with what little light could break through the thick clouds above. It took a surprisingly short time for the group to pack up their camping gear, rolling up their bedding and stowing away any items they had taken out.

“Hey, Pot?” I asked the dark blue earth pony as he struggled to fit his cooking pot back into his saddlebag.

I saw a shiver go up the stallion’s spine at the sound of my voice.

“Need anything?” He asked cautiously.

“I just wanted to say that I can carry some of your things for you. My saddlebags are almost empty and yours look really heavy,” I said with a smile.

“I prefer to keep my stuff on me,” He answered, not lifting his gaze to meet mine.

“Okay, let me know if you change your mind!” I answered cheerfully, I couldn’t blame him for not trusting me with his stuff, he did meet me yesterday, after all.

I looked at the rest of the group, seeing that they were all ready to move out. Double Cross stood some distance away, staring at the horizon. A soft breeze blew the leader’s mane and bandana back as he plotted our route.

“We should be in Junkyard by tomorrow morning,” Double Cross said, “I don’t see any other campsites, so we either set up too far away from them, or they kept going through the night,”

“I doubt even they would keep going that long, but we still need to pick up the pace,” Burning said, walking up to Double Cross.

We set off at once, keeping the same trot we had kept the day before. However, this time I noticed the difference between me and my companions a lot more. We took a lot more breaks than we had the previous day, all ordered by Double Cross, who insisted that we had to ‘preserve our strength’.

Not too far from where we had set up camp, we came across an empty ration packet, proving that the robed ponies had at the very least stopped for a rest the previous night. This only bolstered our resolve to keep going, trudging through the wasteland with our gaze beset on reclaiming our supplies.

The deserted wasteland was inescapable, cracked soil stretched out in almost every direction, yet all the openness only made me feel… exposed. At least back when ruins littered my surroundings there was a slight sensation of comfort, but here? There was nothing out here. The crushing silence didn’t help either, everypony was so focused on marching on that they left little room for small talk.

What the silence did give me, however, was a glimpse of… something behind the group. It wasn’t large enough to be a pony, but I could never get enough of a look to be sure.

“I think something’s following us,” I told Double Cross during one of our rest stops, looking over my shoulder at the wasteland. There was nothing there, but I could’ve sworn I had seen something dipping just behind the pile of rocks that we had passed a while back. Whatever it was, it had stayed outside the range of my EFS.

The stallion looked back as well, but he let out a single chuckle.

“It’s probably a bug or something. There’s not much out here, not yet at least…” He stated, I was going to ask what he meant, but before I got the chance to do it he straightened out and addressed the group, “We keep moving, now!”

I started along with the rest of the group, staying on my guard for any creatures or other groups that we may find. Yet it seemed like nothing lived here, or at least that’s what my EFS said. I tried fiddling with my PipBuck radio a bit, but all I could find was static and a single channel that played some grating marching music. All in all, this was starting to be rather… uneventful. I itched for something to do other than follow blindly behind the guide of wagon tracks.

“So I was wondering,” I started, desperately trying to break the silence that had befallen the group, “Why are you all traveling together?”

“We uhh… you see…” Barbed Wire stuttered, but she was interrupted by Double Cross.

“Burning, Pot, and I used to live in Fillydelphia, had to leave after a drought,” The stallion explained, “We joined up with these two to uhh… settle a score,” He added, gesturing to Barbed Wire and Shrapnel.

“Have you been to a lot of settlements?” I asked, hopeful at the prospect of having somepony to point me in the right direction once the task at hoof had been finished.

“We’ve been around quite a bit, but most ponies don’t trust us- er strangers, I mean,” Double Cross explained.

“That makes sense, they’re probably scared of raiders and the like,” I commented.

Double Cross fell completely silent for a few seconds before speaking again.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s important to be around ponies you trust. Nopony lasts long in Baltimare on their own,”

I nodded in understanding and continued dutifully marching along, trying to think of some method of making my good intentions clear to any settlement I came across. A clear option would be to just outright say it, but what raider would come out and say that they were up to no good? Nopony would ever believe it without my innate ability to judge character on sight.

Guess I’ll just need to let word of my exploits reach them before me. What an excellent idea! All I really needed was some big flashy exploits that ponies could talk about. Hopefully, this junkyard place held some glory in store for me. With any luck, those virtue ponies would try to take the residents hostage! That would be a perfect opportunity.

At around noon we took the longest break of the day, finding a crashed sky carriage to rest under. The vehicle had been picked completely clean of anything that could hold even a sliver of usefulness. I even noticed how the largest pieces of the wreck had had large squares of metal cut out of them. What remained resembled the picked-clean carcass of an enormous beast. A beast whose bones now served as our shelter.

Lunch was a simple affair, our last two cans of tomato soup went into the pot. That didn’t make it any less delicious, however, and I once again ate every last drop.

“I could eat this stuff for the rest of my life!” I told Pot, who once again lowered his head.

“Yer outta luck, then,” Shrapnel interjected, pouring a hoofful of sand into his can, “Those were our last two cans o’ the stuff,”

My heart shattered.

“Please, tell me he’s joking” I cried out, jumping towards Pot and grabbing him by the shoulders.

The stallion’s pupils shrank to pinpricks as he tried to jump away, but he was way too slow to get away from my aching heart.

“D- don’t worry, mushroom soup is j- just as good, I- I swear!” The cook blurted out.

I let go of the stallion, who promptly collapsed into a heap. I’ve got no choice but to believe him, he is the cook, after all.

We kept moving as soon as we could. I had to give it to these surface ponies, they had some impressive stamina. I had no doubts that my legs could carry me with no issue for days on end, but I wasn’t expecting these ponies to be able to go on for so long without any complaints. Then again, they had been robbed of their hard-earned supplies, which were probably the driving force behind this seemingly endless desert hunt. But even the vast openness of the wasteland slowly started to retreat, as a massive figure appeared on the horizon. I racked my memory for what little details I could recall of my geography class, estimating that we must be nearing the tail end of the Foal Mountains.

However, no matter how much ground we covered, I was still certain that whatever that thing I had sensed behind us was still there. Of course, none of the others seemed to have picked up on it, but I couldn’t shake the sensation no matter how hard I tried. At the very least I could always rely on my EFS to let me know if anything was actually there. Unless whatever it is knows the range of a PipBuck’s EFS. I thought, but that was a ridiculous notion.

“We will make camp in that cave there,” Double Cross said, pointing at a small rock formation that opened up in the increasingly rocky terrain. Daylight was already starting to fade as night took hold.

“Are ya sure, boss?” Shrapnel asked, “Bit of a bad spot if anythin’ comes in the night,”

Double Cross nodded, turning to face the eyepatch-wearing stallion.

“You have those landmines with you, right?” He asked.

At his words, Shrapnel’s single eye sparkled so brightly that I could’ve easily mistaken him for a stable 75 filly who had just gotten their cutie mark. With a wide and cooked grin, the stallion produced two flat yellow disks from his saddle bag.

“Mah favorite alarm clocks,” He said with a grin.

Shrapnel and Barbed wire made their way into the cave first, weapons ready and mouths on the triggers. A bright flashlight was strapped to Shrapnel’s rifle, illuminating the inside of the cave as he trudged through the dirt. My EFS insisted that the cave was, in fact, empty, but it wouldn’t hurt to be extra sure. The cave itself wasn’t too deep, merely a short drop into an open area within.

“That ain’t good…” Shrapnel said as soon as everypony was inside the vaulted chamber within the cave. I followed the beam of light that poured out of his flashlight to try and figure out what he was talking about.

The wall of the cave was covered in markings. Deep grooves that had been carved into the dirt and white scars covered the large boulders that made up the formation. This wasn’t a natural cave, something had carved out this chamber intentionally.

“It’s abandoned, there’s no stuff in the back,” Double Cross said, pointing his own flashlight around the room and showing that it was, in fact, completely empty.

“Aye, fair enough,” Shrapnel conceded, “But Ah’m still gonna put these up,” He added, dropping his saddlebags onto the floor and taking both of the landmines out.

“Yeah, try to put them somewhere where we won’t step on them when we switch guards,” The leader said. I wondered if that warning was simply a preemptive measure, or if some accident had happened in the group’s past.

I was expecting the camp to be similar to the one we had set up the previous night, but I was pleasantly surprised when Bruning set the lamp to maximum power. The warm glow of the light filled the cave and bathed us in warmth. Warmer still was Pot’s cooking pot, which was quickly filled with the contents of several water canteens, as well as some canned mushrooms.

“Hah!” Shrapnel exclaimed after leaning in to smell the mixture, “Good thing we found those two-” He continued, but he was cut off by Double Cross, who quickly whipped his face around towards the stallion.

“Traders! Which we traded with,” He clarified.

“Uh yeah… that,” Shrapnel said, giving me a strange look.

“Good to know that there’s ponies out there still willing to trade,” I commented, smiling.

Truth be told, I was expecting the mushroom soup to pale in comparison to the tomato and carrot goodness that I had experienced before. What with its odd gray color and its smell of dirt. But once again my taste buds were enraptured by the mind-melting flavors that Pot had managed to conjure from such simple ingredients. My own watering mouth only added to the torrent of delectability that I gleefully guzzled, mixing with the unbelievably flavorful soup.

“You were right!” I whimpered, breathing heavily, “It really is better than tomato soup,”

Pot was too busy staring at me with a concerned expression to register my compliment, his own can of soup all but forgotten in his hooves. I paid him no mind, however, completely focused on the food. The only thing I could complain about was that I didn’t get to eat another portion.

“We need to rest,” Burning said, standing up and stretching, “I’ll take the first watch, who’ll do the next one?”

“I’ll do it,” Double Cross said, receiving a nod of confirmation before the mare set off towards the entrance of the cave.

The remaining surface-dwellers started to set up their shining bedrolls around the lamp, placing them in a circle around the light source. I grabbed Burning’s bedroll and unfurled it as well. I need to get one of these for my own. I thought. My thinking was halted when I noticed that Pot had finished cleaning his cooking equipment. My mouth instantly started watering again at the mere memory of the soup. I walked over to him and tapped his shoulder to try and get his attention.

“I- I don’t have any more soup, I swear,” He exclaimed.

I gave a hearty laugh at the cook’s outburst, the sound echoing slightly throughout the cave.

“Don’t worry, I can wait,” I said, playfully hitting his shoulder.
Pot let out a groan and lifted a forehoof to rub the shoulder I had hit, turning his head to face me directly.

“Well, then what do you want?” He asked.

“I just wanted to know how you became such an excellent cook,” I said with a smile, sitting down next to the earth pony.

“You- you really think I’m that good?” Pot asked, raising an eyebrow.

I looked at him with a wide-eyed stare, shocked at how he could possibly doubt his skills.

“Are you kidding? Your soup is so good I could kiss you!” I exclaimed, hugging the earth pony stallion.

The beads of sweat that had been forming on the cook’s forehead started dropping slowly as I felt him shiver in my hooves. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being shown affection, poor thing!

“T- thanks,” He said, trying to get my hooves off his neck.

“Can’t wait to try what other delicious feasts you can prepare!” I said, finally letting the stallion go. Almost immediately he got to his hooves and took a couple of steps away from me.

“Sure,” He muttered.

That was all I needed to hear. Nothing that tomorrow held could possibly be bad enough to sour the promise of more delectable food. The cook in question reached out and dimmed the light, just as he had done the night before. However, despite how tired I was, I couldn’t sleep. The excitement for what awaited tomorrow was simply too great.

What wondrous adventures awaited beyond the crack of dawn? Peril, danger, panger, ponies threw those words around frequently in the glorious legends of old as if they were tennis balls. Well, I was going to crush those balls! No threat was too great for Black Light to face!

They must know their leader is dead, there’s no way that we’ll recover those supplies without a fight. I thought, excited, the warmth of impending combat filling my body and making my horn buzz in anticipation. Not just that, but I’d also get to see my very first settlement. True, the name didn’t exactly conjure images of pristine buildings and marble palaces, but the wasteland was a harsh place.

I twisted and turned on the ground for what seemed like two hours before a low light started to approach the group from the entrance to the cave. In my feverish battle-ready state, I nearly reached out for my revolver with my magic before remembering that I had no ammunition. Not that it was needed, anyway, since the light drew closer and revealed itself to be a flashlight attached to Burning’s battle saddle.

“Pst, Cross,” She whispered, poking the stallion.

I watched as the sleeping figure shook his head and got up groggily. Burning must have a soft spot for him, anypony else would’ve gotten a strong kick. I thought.

“Is it my turn already?” He asked.

“Yeah, and we need to talk, come on,” The mare said, helping him up.

Huh, I wonder what they want to talk about. I wondered as I watched the two ponies making their way further and further away from the camp. Could it be some sort of strategy for the attack tomorrow? No, it couldn’t be, they would share that with the rest of the group… But then what? I could always just go and listen to them, not like I was going to be sleeping anytime soon.

No! That won’t do! I reprimanded myself. Eavesdropping was something evil ponies did, not me… but then again, I really wanted to know what they had to sneak away from the group to discuss. Maybe I could go outside to get some fresh air and just so happen to listen to them talking. I smirked at the plan, it was just too perfect.

Very slowly I rose to my hooves and started walking towards the cave entrance, where I spotted the two ponies sitting next to each other. The smaller silhouette, who I assumed to be Burning, passed a canteen to Double Cross. I crouched behind a portion of the cave where I would be completely cloaked in shadows and listen attentively to the conversation.

“Are you sure?” Burning asked.

“Yes, tomorrow we’ll get the things that we need to get Bluebeard off our flanks, and we’ll never have to worry about anything again,” Double Cross answered, taking another swig of the canteen, “Besides, if we’re lucky, our problem might just sort itself out,” He added, passing the canteen back to Burning.

I wonder who this Bluebeard pony is. I thought. Judging by what Double Cross had said, they were somepony that he had a debt to. He had said that they traded with some ponies for food, perhaps the supplies that had been stolen were trading goods, and this Bluebeard pony was the leader of a trader group. Oh, those dastardly virtues! They really were throwing wrenches into every single small business that tried to keep their head above the water in the wasteland. I had to stop them!

“And if it doesn’t? I mean I can’t say I’ve ever known a pony who fits the description ‘loose cannon’ better,” Burning said, bringing me back down to the conversation I was eaves- listening to. Eavesdropping was an evil pony thing, I just happened to be standing here and hearing them talk.

But as for what she had said, what did she mean by that? Perhaps this Bluebeard pony wasn’t as organized as I’d expect from a trade group leader. Then again, this was the wasteland, organization was just too much to ask for from these poor ponies.

“If it doesn’t then I will take care of it myself after we get the supplies,” Double Cross answered, stomping on the ground, “I don’t think we’ll be able to get the stuff without her, call it a hunch, but my gut has never let us down before,”

Oh my, were they talking about me? Did he really think I was going to be that important tomorrow? I thought, grinning. I also wondered what this ‘problem’ they were talking about could be? Perhaps it was the remaining robed ponies that had taken the wagon to the junkyard, not that they would be much of a problem assuming Double Cross gave me some ammo for the fight.

The mere thought of getting to fire Temperance’s revolver made the buzzing in my body deepen. My knees weakened under the imagined sensation of firing that beautiful firearm again, feeling the recoil against my magic… seeing the evil ponies keel over under my righteous onslaught… Focus! Black Light! I told myself to try and reel in my mind. I may need to get back to the campsite soon, and the last thing I wanted was for my wobbly knees to make me trip onto one of Shrapnel’s land mines.

“Maybe you’re right…” Burning said, helping me break free from the fantasies that entrapped my thoughts, “And once we pay him off, what’s next? We can’t keep going forever,”

“When we pay him off and become free to roam again, we can leave this horrible place,” Double Cross said, “Trust me, it’s all going to work out,” He added, cutting through Burning’s silence.

The mare seemed to think for a moment before letting out a sigh and speaking.

“I trust you, Cross,” She said.

“I know you do, Fillies,” The stallion retorted.

I watched as Burning got up to her hooves and kicked the stallion in the side, making him wheeze.

“I told you not to use that name,” She said, irate.

Double Cross let out a hearty chuckle at the mare’s outburst. I knew it! Nopony could possibly be named Burning! I thought. Clearly ‘Burning’ was a nickname she had chosen for herself. I was left to wonder however about why she’d go so far to conceal her identity. Covered cutie mark, nickname, what was next? Perhaps her mane was actually a different color!

“It does make you give some strong kicks, I tell you that!” He said before both ponies joined together in a laughing fit.

“You’re a bastard, Cross,” The mare said, still chuckling.

“Guilty as charged,” The stallion replied, giving her a bow, “Go get some sleep, you’ll need it for tomorrow,”

My eyes widened at Double Cross’ words. I turned tail and started walking back into the cave as quickly as my legs could carry me without making much noise. Silently praying that I wouldn’t trip or walk over one of the other sleeping ponies. I fumbled around in the dark until I found the spot I had been lying in and dropped onto it, closing my eyes and trying my best to stay completely motionless. I heard as Burning walked over to me and gave me a kick in the leg. Making use of my award-worthy acting skills, I ‘woke up’ and stared at her with half-closed eyes, mumbling something that I hoped was incomprehensible.

“Sleep somewhere else, I want the warm spot,” She said, dragging her bedroll over.

Stumbling slightly I dragged myself to the side, flopping down onto the dirt with a heavy thud. Fortunately, after some time I finally managed to calm down enough for my drowsiness to take me away and into the wonderful land of dreams. Just as had happened on my first night on the surface, the deep darkness of night gave way to the muffled glow of the sun when dawn broke. Unlike the first time, however, the group of surface-dwellers didn’t put their camping supplies into their saddlebags, instead opting to leave them all in a neat pile.

“Shrapnel, put the landmines closer to the supplies, we don’t want anypony digging through our stuff while we’re away,” Double Cross ordered, getting an affirmative nod from the red stallion, “Make sure your guns are loaded,” He added, directed at the group this time.

Barbed Wide topped off an SMG magazine before passing the rest of the nine-millimeter bullets over to Pot, who put them away after making sure his new pistol’s magazines were full. Burning and Shrapnel’s battle-saddle mounted rifles used a larger caliber, but I didn’t get a close enough look to make out which one specifically. Double Cross topped off his own battle saddle, slinging his bandolier across his chest with the rest of his ammunition. I eyed the .454 rounds with an expression that I really hoped didn’t come off as malicious intent.

“If a fight breaks out, I’ll give you some,” He said, noticing my staring.

My ears drooped at his words. I guess he still doesn’t trust me completely. I thought. It made sense, he had said that ponies in the wasteland weren’t too trusting. But I couldn't be too sad, after all, I was certain that there would be a fight.

We slowly crawled out of the cave, where I realized just how close to the settlement we had actually made our camp. I expected it to still be quite some distance away, but I couldn’t help but be shocked when we went around the cave and were met by a frequently used road. The path led into what could only be described as a fortress nestled inside a horseshoe-shaped hill formation. A large wall of carriages and odd-shaped metal plates surrounded the settlement on the only side that stone didn’t, hiding its interior from the wasteland. A veritable sea of smaller scrap heaps littered the surrounding area like large, rusted, pimples.

“Move in a line, keep your mouths off your triggers,” Double Cross ordered. Given the groans that the others let out, I assumed the suggestion was mainly aimed at me.

As we drew closer, I spotted several figures moving around the top part of the scrap wall. Five ponies in total, one of which was a unicorn. None had their weapons bared, but I knew that could change in a matter of seconds. At any second one of the ponies could take a shot at us out of suspicion!

The thought of a gunfight breaking out lit a fire in my chest. My breathing became more labored as the heat spread throughout my body. I tried to take a deep breath, but the buzzing was too intense for it to be anything other than shallow. My heart was already beating rapidly, like a constant drum in the back of my head.

“Who goes there?” One of the ponies shouted from atop the wall.

“We are traders!” Double Cross shouted back.

“Traders?” The pony atop the wall said, “I don’t see no trade goods with you! And no brahmin either!”

What’s a brahmin? I wondered.

“We have our goods in our saddlebags, our pack brahmin was killed!” Double Cross offered. The lying didn’t sit well with me, but given the circumstances I guessed it was justified. And it wasn’t me doing the lying either.

The ponies on top of the wall pulled back for a moment and talked among themselves. I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but they sounded serious. My eyes drifted across the immense door of the settlement, made from welded-together plates of metal. I was amazed by my EFS’ ability to scan the inside of the settlement even through the thick metal wall. There were a lot of blue bars on my compass, way too many to count.

My eyes were drawn back to the top of the wall when the pony peeked out again, this time there was a second pony with them. For an instant, I had genuinely thought that they would open the door to let us in. That thought was quickly dissipated when I realized that the new pony had their face concealed by a blue cloak.

“They are raiders!” The pony shouted

“Ah, shit! Get down!” Double Cross shouted before drawing his pistol. The gun sang, giving the head of the pony that he had been talking to a brand new hole in the forehead.

I dove behind cover almost as quickly as the bullets started to rain from the top of the wall. Shrapnel peeked out and took a potshot with his rifle. A loud thump came from somewhere behind my makeshift barricade to indicate that he had shot true.

We had been split up, Shrapnel and Pot were hiding next to me behind an overturned sky carriage, while Double Cross, Burning, and Barbed Wire had taken refuge behind a larger pile of scrap. A two-pony-wide gap separated the two refuges, a veritable no-mare’s land. The guns fell silent after that initial barrage, but I could all but sense the sights that were fixed on our hiding spots.

“Throw your weapons away and nopony gets hurt!” A voice shouted from above the wall.

None of my companions appeared particularly inclined to meet these ponies’ unreasonable demands. It was only a matter of time before one of them managed to hit somepony while they had us pinned. But they probably weren’t counting on one thing: my horn.

“Pst, Double Cross, throw me some ammo!” I shouted at the stallion, who was currently pressing his entire body against a large piece of metal.

He looked down at the bandolier that hung across his chest with a conflicted expression. He didn’t get to make a choice, however, before a burst of gunfire forced him to press himself against the barricade harder. None of the shots connected, but a few had come terribly close to hitting the group’s leader.

“Okay!” The bandana-wearing stallion shouted, puffing out his chest towards me. I wondered what he was trying to do until I realized that he was offering his ammo belt.

“Take it!” He commended, and I obeyed.

Six cartridges flew across the gap, wrapped in the crimson glow of my telekinesis. As each bullet found its place in the cylinder with a metallic click, so too did my heart flood my ears with its thundering beat. A deep shiver ran down my spine and I began huffing with excitement at finally getting to fire the gun again. And I could shoot it completely guilt-free, because these ponies were clearly robed-pony accomplices.

I spun the weapon around in the air for no purpose other than to admire it. The golden engravings showered my eyes with their beautiful, entrancing reflections. Moving as quickly as I could, I poked my head out from behind the carriage, hiding it almost immediately. Bullets ripped around me, but they did little other than bite into the metal I was hiding behind. A wicked grin split my face as I turned to look at Pot. Now I know where they’re standing.

My eyes scanned the area around us, falling on a piece of scrap metal that was nestled between Pot’s rear legs. I pointed at it and spoke up, just loud enough for him to hear me.

“When I tell you, grab that piece of metal and throw it away from us” I instructed, getting a silent nod in response.

“Now!” I said, poking my head out the side of the carriage to capitalize on the split-second distraction that the scrap metal would offer.

Temperance’s revolver sang its beautiful song, making my teeth clatter slightly from the sheer power of the shockwave. This was no ordinary weapon, this was a work of art. Its parts moved with a precision so perfect that I could feel my eyes start to water by its sheer beauty. Sadly, I had to hide my head too quickly to really appreciate the effect. I would have to be contempt with just the sound of splattering pony to confirm my kill. Only two guards remained now, including a unicorn, and the virtue pony.

I looked over at Double Cross and saw that he was talking quickly with Barbed Wire and Burning. Before I could ask him what he was planning, however, all three peeked out from behind the scrap heap at once and pelted the spot where the earth pony guard stood. The sheer volume of fire was enough for one of the shots to find an opening. As was clearly revealed when a loud metallic thump was heard from the other side of the wall.

“All right, we just need to-” Barbed Wire started, but she was forced to the floor when a bullet ripped through her right shoulder.

Credit where credit was due, the mare managed to remain behind the rather small cover despite her injury. Double Cross turned to look at Barbed Wire, pulling out a bandage from his saddlebag and throwing it at her.

“I’ll live!” The mare said, grabbing the bandage.

The stallion tried to say something, but his voice was quickly drowned in the sound of rapid gunfire. I dared to take a peek and saw what had happened. The last remaining guard, the unicorn, had picked up the weapons of their fallen comrades, and was currently firing them all blindly while they hid behind the battlements. I smirked when I realized that the desperate tactic had only made her a bigger target.

“What’re ya thinkin’?” Shrapnel asked, a concerned look on his face.

“This!” I shouted, jumping out from behind the overturned carriage and into the messy hailstorm of blind fire.

Before my hooves had touched the ground, I went into SATS. My perception slowed to a crawl as the spell took hold, letting me aim for the single part of their body that the last guard had not only carelessly left exposed, but also clearly marked by using it to channel magic. I took aim at the tip of the unicorn’s horn, finally letting the spell run its course and watching as the revolver once again graced my senses with its entrancing song. The world returned to its normal speed, and a piercing shriek came from atop the wall as the off-green magic that held the weapons up imploded. A now-hornless unicorn lurched upwards, grabbing their forehead-stump with both forehooves. In their violent thrashing, however, they overshot and sent themselves flying off the wall.

As the mare fell, I saw a chance to fire the revolver again and took it. The gun spun in my magic before letting out a third powerful blast, hitting the falling pony directly in the head. A large red stain appeared on the wall moments before the rest of the pony hit the ground with a thump.

“Wicked shot!” Shrapnel said, patting me on the back as he too walked out of the carriage’s cover.

The others walked into the open as well, keeping their weapons trained on the wall. I opened Temperance’s revolver and took out the three spent cartridges, shooting an inquisitive look at Double Cross. He raised an eyebrow at me but eventually realized what I meant. One nod of confirmation and three ner bullets floated into place in my revolver.

We approached the gate cautiously, with the gate itself being made similarly to the rest of the wall. Several large plates that were held together by screws and poorly-done welds rose up in two vaguely square doors. Double Cross took one glance at it and immediately turned to face Shrapnel.

“Do you have anything to blow this up?” He asked.

Before the eyepatch-wearing stallion could respond I jumped into the conversation, having spotted an opening to earn more of Double Cross’ trust.

“Wait, I can open it!” I exclaimed.

Both stallions turned to stare at me with inquisitive looks.

“Uhhh, ya sure? Because I gots a grenade for it,” Shrapnel said, sounding almost disappointed.

“Let her have a go at it, save that thing for a better moment,” Burning said as she helped Barbed Wire wrap her shoulder in bandages. They weren’t magical, but they would have to do.

I waited for Double Cross to give me a confirmation nod before I shifted my attention to the gate, firing up my horn.

“ Open it fast, there’s definitely some of them in there, they’re going to riddle us with bullets if you open it too slowly,” Double Cross warned.

“I’m counting on them being there, don’t worry,” I said with a wide grin, “I’m going to blow the door into them, get ready,” I added, making sure everypony took more favorable positions around me before letting my magic loose.

The spell I was planning would be cast in two stages, both nothing greater than simple telekinesis. My magic was strong, but even I couldn’t cast multiple different spells at once. Power surged through my horn and shot at the door, wrapping around the entirety of the gate, crushing and pulling throughout its surface. Rusted screws and poorly done welds gave way as the entire object creaked and groaned. But I made sure that every piece remained mostly in the same place.

Making sure to hold the gate in one piece, I cast the second telekinesis spell just a hoof’s distance in front of the door. More magic poured out of me, collecting into a nearly solid crimson field in front of the door. By this point, the strain was starting to crush my head as if it were in a vice, but the spell was ready.

My head throbbed painfully from the effort, but I willed the first field to start moving as if I were trying to open the door normally. Hoping that the movement would lure any would-be ambusher into abandoning their cover to take aim. And finally, with a laugh, I sprung the trap.

The field that was holding the door together dissipated. Chunks of metal started to fall down, but they didn’t get far. I stopped pouring magic into the second field as well, causing it to implode on itself. A deafening cracking sound came from the magic before a crimson shockwave exploded onto the door fragments. Chunks of scrap metal went flying into the settlement with the force of a gigantic shotgun blast.

Part of the wave washed over us as well, pressing us into the ground slightly. But that was nothing compared to what happened to one of the robed ponies who had been standing behind the door. I thought I saw them aiming at the gate before they were ripped into mincemeat by the flying shrapnel. Further inside, the other two robed ponies threw themselves back behind their cover as they were pelted by the sharpened scrap and blood from their former evil colleague.

“Go! Go!” Double Cross shouted, firing blindly into the settlement.

We charged into what was clearly the town’s main area, where a couple of barricades had been erected to protect the town’s defenders. Or in this case, the cowardly robed ponies. With the tables turned, now it was us who had them pinned. We didn’t push fully into the settlement, however, cautious of any possible ambush.

Shrapnel’s rifle sang, with the bullet biting into one of the opposing ponies' exposed leg. A yelp came from behind the barricade before being drowned out by the roar of Barbed Wire’s SMG. Some of the shots must’ve punched through the defense, because the pony dropped to the ground with another scream. Just for good measure, however, I took aim and fired at its head, splattering the ground behind them.

We carefully approached the last remaining barricade. My EFS still marked the last pony as being right in front of me. They had nowhere to go, the instant we saw them they would be doomed. If they’re smart, they’ll realize that evil isn’t the way and they’ll surrender. I thought, keeping my eyes bolted on the barricade. Either that or they’ll try to-

A battle cry came from the rusty barrels that the last pony was hiding behind. And behind the challenging roar came a revolver encased in an orange magical glow. The last pony had been an unicorn.

Time slowed to a crawl when I saw the floating gun, almost as if I had entered SATS again. Four shots whizzed past me before I managed to raise my own revolver and fire. My aim was precise, blasting the gun apart before it could fire again.

“F- fuck…” A stallion said from behind me.

I whirled around and saw that the virtue’s aim hadn’t been as bad as I thought. Shrapnel was on the floor, a dark red liquid pouring from under his mane. The stallion’s single eye was wide with shock, but completely unmoving.

If you are not the best, the ponies that are counting on us will die.

All sound around me faded into nothing, all save for the thundering of my heart.

And if they die, it means you’re a failure.

Before my mind even managed to formulate a plan I had already sprung into action. This robed pony had killed one of the innocent surface-dwellers who were under my protection, and that was unforgivable. I let out an incomprehensible battle cry as I closed the distance in an instant, not giving the pony enough time to do anything other than scream.

My entire body slammed into the barrels, denting them as the barricade disassembled. Among the exploding cover, I spotted my target: a robe-wearing coward, barely older than a filly. The mare landed on her back, being thrown onto the floor by one of the barrels.

“You!” I bellowed.

The mare, whose cloak had fallen back to reveal a terrified light pink face, desperately tried to drag herself away. I slammed into the robed pony like a bag of bricks, tackling the young mare to the floor. Her horn lit up, but whatever she was planning to do with it was quite literally slammed out of her when I brought down my forehoof on her horn. The zap of magic dissipating sent a tickle up my leg. Before she got the chance to try anything else, my hoof struck again, hitting her squarely in the muzzle. All I could see was the image of Shrapnel being caught by this pony-shaped monster’s bullets.

I felt the mare throw her hooves up to try and cover her face, nothing that a quick telekinesis spell couldn’t prevent. Another hit landed on the pony’s face, sending a tooth flying to the side. Again and again my forehooves fell on the mare’s face, making it let out several wet crunching sounds. I could feel the pony thrashing violently against my telekinetic field, but I wouldn’t let go, I couldn’t let go.

“I am not a failure!” I shouted at the bloodied mess that was once a pony’s face. She didn’t give me any reply.

With one final bellowing shout I stabbed into the mare’s bloodied neck with my horn. I pulled with all my might, lifting her now-lifeless body off the floor and craning my neck to send her flying through the air. The pony landed among the remains of the barricade from which she had taken my friend’s life.

Almost lost my cool. I thought, slightly disappointed in myself.

I turned around to look at the rest of the group, hoping that nopony else had been wounded by that monster. All I got in return was four pairs of horrified eyes. Poor things! They were probably reeling from the loss of their friend! I ran towards them and looked at the fallen stallion, lowering my head in respect. A single tear fell from my eye, landing on Shrapnel’s lifeless head.

“We can’t let his death be in vain, we have to get those supplies!” I said, trying to sound confident.

“Y- yeah,” Double Cross said, clearly still shaken from Shrapnel’s death.

Burning flinched and jumped away from me when I got back up to my hooves. Her bulging eyes locked on my horn. I realized that the blood on it was probably reminding her of Shrapnel, so I shook my head to try and throw some of it off.

I looked around the area to make sure that no other miscreants were in the area. According to my EFS, there were two or three ponies in each of the huts around us. The biggest hut was a large marble building with a strange object on its roof. A large marble hoof, I realized, the building had clearly once been the base of a statue.

The other huts were constructed in a similar manner to the wall. I carefully scanned each of the windows with my revolver at the ready, making sure that nopony made any foalish decisions.

“Come on, we need to move,” Double Cross said, seeming to have regained his composure, “We’ll split into two groups. Wire and Pot, you two go search the huts here for anything useful. Burning and I will go directly to try and get the supplies,” He explained.

“Which group do I go with?” I asked, cocking my head.

Burning shot a concerned look at Double Cross, and the stallion responded with a resolute nod.

“You’re with me, let’s move out before anypony gets any ideas,” He ordered.

I nodded in understanding. There would be time for mourning later. I watched as Burning took the ammunition from Shrapnel’s battle-saddle and two metal apples from his saddlebag.

Double Cross, Burning, and I made our way to the back of the settlement. There, built into a cave in the rock wall, stood the largest structure I had seen. An empty cart was parked outside the building, almost as if placed there intentionally to mock me.

“If I were a betting mare, I’d say that big hut there is where they keep the goods,” Burning said,

“Yeah, but stay on your guard, you never know when-“ Double Cross started, but he was swiftly interrupted by the demented screams of a pony.

I barely had enough time to register the rusty knife in the mare’s mouth before my horn had already drawn Temperance’s revolver and fired at her. Just one shot, and the top of the charging pony became a fine red mist. You bastards won’t be killing any more innocents. I thought, furious.

The lifeless body of the would-be attacker had just finished collapsing onto the dirt by the time Double Cross and Burning turned around. The stallion took a look at the knife the mare had been brandishing and then looked at me.

“We never know when something like that might happen,” He finished, “Thanks,”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to the ponies I was sent to protect!” I said, stomping the ground for emphasis, “Can I get some more ammunition?” I added, much more sheepishly.

The stallion’s eyes went wide before he answered.

“Y- yes! Take as much as you need,” He stuttered.

“Thanks!” I answered, wrapping ten rounds in my magic.

With my revolver reloaded and the additional ammo stored safely Inside my saddlebags, we finally turned to face the large hut’s door. Burning took the lead, pressing her ear against a large piece of scrap for a moment before turning to face Double Cross and I.

“There’s definitely ponies in there,” She said, keeping her voice as low as possible.

“Yes,” I confirmed, looking at my EFS compass, “Five of them”

I double-checked just to be sure, but there was no chance of there being any more ponies in there since there were no other buildings behind it. That didn’t make me feel any better about moving into another possible ambush. What if the cave twists and turns enough to throw off my EFS? There could be a whole army of bad ponies in there! I thought anxiously.

“How’d you-“ Burning asked, but she fell silent once more when I lifted my PipBuck, “Oh,”

“What’s the plan?” I whispered at Double Cross.

The stallion’s gaze hardened for a moment as he stopped to think. The slightest hint of a smile then graced his face when an idea undoubtedly spawned within his mind.

“Here’s the plan,” He explained, “Burning, you will buck the door open, then Black Light and I will rush in to take out the ponies. Or at the very least force them to take cover,”

“I like the idea,” Burning said, a strange grin on her face.

“Wait, why don’t I just bust the door down with my magic?” I asked, giving Double Cross a confused glance.

“I uhhh… b- because they could see the magic and be o- on their guard,” He explained.

“Oh! You’re right,” I whispered back. The stallion let out a sigh of relief, clearly from clearing up any possible misunderstanding of his brilliant plan.

Burning took point, walking up to the door and pressing her ear against it again.

“They’re still talking, we can take them by surprise,” She said, getting nods from both me and Double Cross.

Despite the crushing failure of Shrapnel’s death, I couldn’t help but feel the burning of imminent combat in my body. You won’t fail this time, Black Light, you are going to run in there first and take out those bastards! I burned the positions of the five blue EFS bars onto my memory.

“On my mark,” Burning whispered, turning around to face away from the door, “One… Two… and three!“

The mare bucked hard against the door, both of her rear hooves connecting with the rusted metal. But as soon as the door shot open I realized that something was terribly wrong. An almost invisible string was tied to the door. Burning’s mighty buck made it go completely taunt and then go flying into the hut along with the door, a tiny ring of metal attached to the other end.

“Fillies, no!” Double Cross shouted, but it was too late.

Chunks of gore went flying everywhere as the grenade bouquet detonated, sending me flying amidst a hailstorm of Burning’s remains. Both of my ears popped, making my head spin wildly as I soared through the air. I came to a stop when my head slammed into the wall of another hut, filling my vision with distorted shapes.

Through my ringing ears and blurred vision, I could barely make out the shape of Double Cross, who was firing into the hut’s ruined entrance. I tilted my head to the side, where I saw that Burning had landed next to me. Or well… Burning’s front half.

I watched helplessly as several bullets ripped through Double Cross, sending the stallion to his knees. He turned back to look towards me and what was left of Burning, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

A muffled scream came from the inside of the hut. I looked up once more to see a large brown stallion charging out of the building with a sledgehammer. Double Cross tried to fire at him, but his wounds had made him slow. The hammer swung in a wide arc, catching Double Cross in the temple. The stallion’s neck seemed to turn into rubber under the intense blow. With a desperate groan, I tried to light up my horn, maybe he wasn’t dead yet, I had to do something.

My magic misfired, driving another spike of pain through my skull. I tried again, getting a shower of red sparks to pour out of my horn. It was too late, the larger stallion brought the hammer down on Double Cross again, splitting the bandana-wearing pony’s head clean open.

No! No! Not him too!

Finally, my horn managed to ignite. Crimson beams of pure magical energy flew out of it towards the large stallion, I was too shocked to even think of a spell to cast. And I missed. I never miss.

However, my effort wasn’t in vain, for the sudden attack had been enough to make the earth pony retreat back into the hut. I started to shake. And not the good kind of shaking, this was different… The cold tendrils of terror had worked their way into my heart, holding it in place and not letting my blood move. I dragged a hoof upward, feeling as if it were wrapped in a lead boot.

Come on Black Light! You have to get out of here before you die too! I screamed at myself internally. Another hoof went forward, slowly dragging me away from the pair of corpses that littered the street. The corpses of the ponies that I hadn’t been able to save. I scooped up Temperance’s revolver off the ground, for all the good it had done.

Get to the others, keep them safe! One more step, I was slowly breaking through the molasses that had wrapped my limbs.

The large marble building came into view, Pot and Barbed Wire were already there, looking at me with concerned expressions. They had definitely heard the explosion. Pot reached me first, placing a hoof on my shoulder and saying something. My ears were still ringing too much to make out the words.

“What happened?” Barbed Wire shouted, but her words were hazy, as if she were talking from a long distance away.

“Cross and Burning… dead,” I finally managed to let out.

“What? How?” Pot demanded, shaking me vigorously.

“I-“ I started to say, but Barbed Wire interrupted me with a horrified scream.

“Get down!” She shouted, throwing herself to the ground.

I stood still, unable to move. Slowly, I turned around to look at what had spooked Barbed Wire so much. I saw the stallion with the hammer that had killed Double Cross aiming at us with a battle saddle. Just what was attached to it was anypony’s guess, a mess of wires and metallic parts hung from his side. The end of the device was glowing with an ominous green color. My eyes slowly closed, accepting my fate.

“Get down you idiot!” Pot shouted, somehow managing to tackle me to the ground.

The impact with the ground forced all the air out of my lungs. As I regained my breath, I looked up to see Barbed Wire peeking out of her cover to fire at the attacking stallion. A barrage ripped out from her SMG, but it was quickly answered by a blinding green beam that struck her directly in the chest. The force of the impact sent her reeling backwards, disintegrating before my very eyes into a shower of sparks and ashes.

Life flooded back into me. One of the surface ponies had just lost their lives to save me. That wouldn’t do, that wouldn’t do at all! I could feel the weights that had piled on my shoulders with the deaths of my companions fall away. Cowering in fear wasn’t what a hero did, a hero stood tall in the face of adversity.

There would be time to feel sorry for the dead. But that could only come once I had taken care of the living.

“Pot! Run!” I shouted.

Temperance’s revolver flew out and fired blindly at the stallion. I could only get two shots off, neither of which managed to pierce the pony’s reinforced barding. As if that weren’t enough, several of the settlers ran out of their huts, armed with knives and a variety of tools. I can’t take them all. I realized, that I had only one option.

I turned tail and ran, ran as fast as I could.

My heart’s pounding matched my hoof’s unsteady beats on the ground as I desperately tried to escape this terrible place. This was all wrong, I was supposed to be better, I was supposed to be the best. Another green beam flew past me, nearly hitting Pot, who was running in front of me. The energy blasted the ground, scorching and cracking it where the gun had hit.

I didn’t even know where we were running to, my only thoughts were to get away from the crazy pony with a big gun. I turned my head to look at our pursuer and saw that they had climbed onto the junkyard’s wall, still aiming the terrible weapon at us. Another beam flew out of the cannon, barely missing me.

But I realized that the beam had struck true when I turned around and saw that Pot was rolling on the ground in a mess of limbs. A mess of limbs that was one leg short.

The stallion collapsed onto his side, screaming bloody murder. His front right leg had been reduced to charred bone and carbonized flesh from halfway down his thigh all the way to his hoof. I didn’t think, I just acted, wrapping the pony in my magic and draping him over my back. I recognized where we were, the cave where we had set up camp last night was straight ahead.

With a screaming and kicking stallion on my back, I set off towards the campsite, running as fast as my hooves could carry me. Another beam struck the sand next to me, turning the area into spiky glass. I was almost there, I just had to make it a little further.

That was when a horrible sensation struck me, as if I had felt the reaper’s call. Overcome with this strange feeling, I wrapped Pot in my telekinesis and heaved him as hard as I could towards the cave. The earth pony sailed through the air, desperately trying to turn so he could absorb the impact. But I never saw if he managed it or not. My whole body was set alight, every nerve screaming in agony as a beam struck me directly in the back. My vision filled with green light and the scent of charred flesh completely invaded my senses.

I fell to the floor, increasing my torment as my freshly charred flesh rubbed against the rough sand below. I stared at the sky with a partially molten eye, a single tear trying its damndest to push its way out of my destroyed tear duct. Why had I ever thought that any of this was a good idea? I wasn’t a hero, I wasn’t anypony. All I was going to be was a charred corpse on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere.

No. I thought, gritting my calcinated teeth.

My right forehoof dragged forward, the cold agony seeping into my bones as I dragged myself over the sand. My coat had turned black as coal, but I still pushed my left forehoof forward, dragging me a small distance forward. I was almost to the cave entrance, just a little longer. My vision blurred, my ears rang, and my breathing was becoming more ragged with every breath. But I kept dragging myself to the cave, I had to at least make sure that Pot wasn’t dead before I could die.

One of my charred hooves reached over the edge of the small hill that marked the cave entrance. I tried to reach it with my other forehoof, but my body had apparently decided that it had taken enough abuse. I tried to move my forehoof again, receiving nothing but the numbing cold of the wind.

Something wrapped around my forehoof. I glanced up and made out what I supposed to be another pony, dragging me into the cave. The moment my torso passed over the edge I rolled the rest of the way down. By this point, the only sensation I could feel was the cold, the terrible, terrible cold.

I turned to look at the blurry dark blue figure that I assumed to be Pot. His foreleg was completely gone, with a constant flow of blood seeping out of it. He flopped onto his side, breathing heavily.

“Can’t… reach…” He struggled to speak, “Potions,” he said, weakly lifting a hoof to point at the entrance to the cave.

I understood what he was saying, but I couldn’t do anything about it. All I could do now was wait for my end.

No no no! I roared.

My horn fired up, aiming at Pot. I closed my eyes in one last desperate attempt to focus before the magic discharged. And with a massive surge of arcane energy, I blacked out.

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Biographical Registry System v.147

Full name: Tumble Weed

Classification: Male earth pony – 37 years of age – CFFBA00-MCC7722-E806AEC

Cutie Mark: A tumbleweed

Tumble Weed was a wandering trader that operated in the eastern Baltimare region. Unlike most other traders, he preferred to roam alone with nopony but his brahmin and his guitar for company. This was a rare occurrence in the wasteland, as lone wanderers rarely lasted long.

Despite his unorthodox approach to traveling, Tumble Weed always had a spot to hunker down or a friendly settlement ready to take him in for a night or two. All of these hidden and safe locations were written down on his hoof-drawn map, an object that was all but legendary in the trader’s guild thanks to the sheer amount of information it contained.

Sadly, both Tumble Weed and his map would never be seen again after the trader decided to travel to the recently abandoned Junkyard. Those who knew him said that he liked to rest in a cave near the settlement, but when other wanderers passed through the area to check all they found was collapsed rubble.

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