“So what you’re saying is… you lied to him?” Pot said, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I didn’t lie to him! I just… didn’t tell him the whole truth!” I retorted as we made our way through the wasteland.

Pot winced slightly as his new leg connected with the ground.

“That’s… that’s still a lie, Black Light,” He said.

“No it isn’t! I told him that I would head to where he sent me as soon as I could!” I explained. it was true! I wasn’t a liar, lying is an evil pony thing! “And I will only be free to do so after I make sure you’re safe and sound!” I added.

“Maybe, but then you insisted on coming with me to the farm,” Pot answered. “Instead of… you know… heading there as soon as you could, like you said you would,”

I chuckled, he just didn’t get it. My promise to see him to the Bretton Farms had been made before I agreed to go to the Steel Ranger HQ, so it took priority.

“I have to make sure you’re okay first, I promised,” I answered. “And you’re looking a lot better,” I added, smiling.

“That’s nice, I guess… but this thing hurts like a bitch,” The stallion said, wincing again as his prosthetic met the ground again.

Scribe Tourniquet had kept his word, ordering for one of the doctors to attach a prosthetic to Pot’s leg-stump. The leg in question was of dubious quality, not much more than some rebar with a joint at the middle and a single snow boot stuck to one end. But it was a significant improvement over not having a leg at all. In order to walk, the stallion had to throw his shoulder forward and whip it back to make the leg go forward and bend. It wasn’t ideal by any stretch of the imagination, something made painfully obvious by the grunts that Pot was making with every step. But it had at least ‘given him some dignity back’, as the stallion himself had said.

We had left the medical center early in the morning at Pot’s request. He didn’t feel comfortable with Tourniquet’s hospitality, or at least that had been his explanation. I guess I couldn’t judge him too harshly, he clearly wasn’t used to that level of… civility.

I couldn’t help but feel that he was somewhat right about the unnecessary detour, however. This little trip would take us at least a full day to get there and a few hours for me to get back. The only thing that truly pushed me to go along with Pot was the need to ensure his safety. That, and the promise of seeing a new settlement.

Bretton Farms. Pot hadn’t told me much about the place other than he and his friends had rested there for some time when they first made their way to Baltimare from Fillydelphia. Judging by the name, I doubted it would be much more than a small farming settlement. But who knew? maybe one of the previous graduates had made their way over there.

The thought of the other graduates left a rather strange taste in my mouth… or, well… my mind’s mouth. What was up with the lack of heroes? I had justified it to myself as the others simply hiding that they had come from stable 75, but why would they do such a thing? And even if that were the case, why were they not doing anything to stop these virtue ponies?

I racked my brain for an answer, any answer, but all I could think of was a blank. Unless… What if the virtues are a recent development? I thought. That had to be it! the graduates had probably traveled far away from Baltimare looking for problems to solve! Maybe they had all gone to Fillydelphia to fight the slavers.

Whatever the case may be, there seemed to be no sign of them out here whatsoever. Or I just had to keep looking.

“You know, I expected there to be more buildings out here,” I said, staring out at the empty wasteland around us. “Or at least a road,”

Pot gave a pained chuckle.

“We’re not actually in Baltimare proper, the city is a lot further west. And there is a road somewhere around here, but it’s not exactly safe,” He answered. “Not unless you’re in a big enough caravan… or don’t care about your life,”

“The small houses where I found you and Double Cross, were those the city?” I asked, curious.

“No, no, that was the suburbs, the real city is even further away,” He replied, wincing again.

“Huh, I wonder what that’s like,” I answered.

“It’s supposed to be pretty nice actually, I wouldn’t know, since it’s basically the heart of virtue territory,” Pot said with a dry chuckle. “Other than that, you have the docks and the western ruins, and all the awful things that lurk there.”

I really wanted to know more, but I could tell by the strain in the stallion’s voice that he shouldn’t be focusing on anything other than continuing forward. I decided to remain quiet, there would always be some other time to ask him about it.

My mind wandered as we walked with only the vaguest direction. I had originally had my doubts about whether or not Pot actually knew where we were going, but those were disproven as we reached some landmarks he recognized. They were nothing but strange stones on the horizon, but he still knew them.

Slowly but surely, I lost myself to the tedium, and resolved to simply focus on putting one hoof in front of the other.

The sound of Pot’s heavy breathing brought my attention back to the present. We had been walking for several hours now, and despite our slow pace, we had put quite some distance behind us.

“Do you need to rest?” I asked the stallion. I wasn’t tired myself, but the sweat pouring from his brow and his labored breathing made it clear that he was tired and in pain.

“Yeah let’s… let’s rest here,” Pot said, all but collapsing onto the ground.

We had come to the edge of a dry riverbed. There was nothing but cracked earth in every direction, punctuated solely by a small collapsed hut. It was almost peaceful, I could easily imagine the river being full of fresh water, ideal to splash around in. The shores would be teeming with life, painted by nature in a wide palette of greens, dotted with shrubs and flowers. Ponies of all kinds would rest on the rocks or swim around in the water, not a care in the world. Truly, a beautiful place to rest.

But, sadly, the fantasy burned away to reveal the scarred gray dirt, burned by weapons of years gone by. What a tragedy!

“You okay, lass?” Pot asked, staring at me.

“Yeah I was just… thinking of what this place must’ve looked like before… you know,” I answered.

“Hmm, can’t say I’ve ever thought about it,” The blue stallion said, looking out at the scene. “To be honest, I can’t even imagine what it may have looked like,” He added.

“Beautiful,” I said wistfully. “I’ve seen pictures,” I added when I noticed that Pot had raised an eyebrow at me.

“Aye, fair,” He replied, shrugging.

A loud series of clattering sounds came from the stallion’s saddlebags when he dropped onto his side, letting out a deep sigh. He brought his foreleg up to rub the shoulder that was attached to the crude prosthetic, wincing slightly as he did.

“Does it hurt?” I asked, sitting down next to him.

“What gave it away, Sherclop?” He answered.

I remained silent and considered the stallion for a moment, unsure as to what to say. He seemed to be annoyed at me wanting to go along with him, despite his clear inability to defend himself or run away if need be. The earth pony took a moment to catch his breath before turning around to search for something in his saddlebags.

“Need any help with that?” I asked when I noticed that he was having trouble keeping it open.

“No, I’m fine,” He snapped back, with just the slightest quiver in his voice.

Eventually, he managed to bring out a box of potato chips, setting it down on the floor next to him. He looked at the box for a moment, then at his prosthetic leg, before finally sighing and turning to look at me.

“Can you open this?” He asked, pointing at the box.

“Uhh… sure?” I answered, confused as to why he didn’t do it himself.

The answer became clear when I floated the box to me and saw that it had a weird tab that had to be pulled in order to open it. Due to how the tab was positioned, a pony would have to hold it up to their face with both forelegs to bite onto the tab. Wow, this is some terrible design. Guess ponies had all their hooves in pre-war Equestria huh? I thought, smiling slightly as I opened the box.

“Huh, none of them are broken,” I said as I looked at the perfectly ordered yellow squares.

“Yeah, they’re basically rocks,” Pot answered, smiling slightly,

I took out a couple of the chips and handed the box back to Pot. The taste was… a taste, for sure. I was pretty certain that if I took out the reclaimed paper from my saddlebag and ate it it would probably taste exactly the same, if not better. But it was something to eat at least.

“So uh… do you know anypony where we’re going?” I asked the blue stallion, trying to make some small talk to hopefully get him to not think about his leg.

“Not really, just this one mare that let us sleep next to her hut, Sun… Cloud? Or something? Can’t remember,” He answered, shoving another chip into his mouth. Something about his tone sounded strange, but I couldn’t quite put my hoof on it.

“You can ask for her name again when we get there!” I chirped, trying to cheer the stallion up.

“Yeah… sure,” He answered, taking a swig of his water canteen with an almost melancholic look in his eye. “She had such a lovely voice… she sang that night, for the whole town,”

“Now you’re making me want to get there even faster!” I said with a chuckle. “But you really need to catch your bre-”

My mouth slammed shut and my eyes darted to the bottom left of my view, as several blue bars appeared on my EFS.

“Is something wrong?” Pot asked, giving me a concerned look.

“Something is coming from that way,” I answered, pointing in the direction that the bars were showing me.

Pot raised his foreleg, taking his pistol out of the holster that was attached to it and aiming it towards where I was pointing. I drew Temperance’s revolver as well, not raising it completely. Maybe they were just a group of friendly wanderers!

“Who goes there?” I shouted.

There was no answer. Instead, I watched as the bars on my EFS came to a standstill. That could mean one of two things, either they were actually standing still… or they were approaching head-on. My right ear twitched. I could hear stepping sounds, but they were way too soft to be ponies.

I instinctively raised my gun, aiming it at the bars. The other side of the riverbed had several large boulders that were concealing whatever was approaching. The dry shrubs that dotted the rocks weren’t helping either. Something caught my eye, however, fast, large, and hairy.

“They’re trying to surround us,” I whispered to Pot when I saw some of the bars break off from the main group and spread out to the sides, still hidden by the rocks.

“C- can you see them?” The stallion asked shakily.

“No, but my PipBuck can,” I answered.

Wait, that’s it! I thought, grinning. With a thought, I fired up my SATS spell.

Out of the several overlapping bars on my EFS, only two were visible enough to be targeted by SATS. The first one was nothing but an indescribable object peeking out from behind a boulder, maybe a leg or a tail? But the second was almost completely visible to the spell through a group of dry bushes, outlining the creature with a blue glow. A large wolf stared back at us, crouched and ready to charge. There had to be at least ten of them.

“They’re wolves!” I shouted at Pot after disabling the targeting spell.

My sudden outburst startled the animals, causing them to run out of their cover. The very instant that a head appeared from behind the boulders I flicked Temperance's revolver and blasted it into a fine red mist. A second wolf jumped out from behind the first, directly into the path of my second bullet. But this wasn’t good, I only had four more shots, and there were a lot more targets than I had bullets.

Pot fired at the third before I had the chance to. Three shots rang out, but only two connected, making the wolf trip onto the floor with a pained whine before trying to drag itself back to the boulders. The blue stallion took aim properly and put the animal out of its misery with a fourth shot. Pot tried to fire again, but his gun let out a loud clanging sound and spat out an entire, unfired bullet with the force of a hoof throw.

My attention was immediately brought away from the strange malfunction and back towards the wolves that were trying to surround us on the right side. Temperance’s revolver flipped around and let out its beautiful song once more, nailing the first animal directly through the right shoulder. Now missing most of its vital organs, the creature dropped to the floor, making the one that was trailing it trip and fall as well. It got up quickly, however, but decided to turn tail and run instead of pressing the attack. I stared at Temperance’s revolver with newfound adoration, not only was it beautiful, but it was frightening as well.

I took a couple of steps to be closer to Pot, who had fallen over in the chaos and was struggling to get back up. The stallion looked up at me with… admiration?

The pride that flooded into me at the sight of the pony I had to protect made a wide grin split my face. I looked up to see that the wolves had regrouped among the boulders. Could they be preparing for another attack? It didn’t matter, the window was more than enough for me to reload.

“Come on!” I shouted, taking a shot blindly at the rocks.

Whether it was my challenge or the sound of the revolver, the wolves didn’t attack. I watched as they slowly retreated further and further into the boulders before finally slipping away from my EFS range. I didn’t let up, not certain as to whether or not they had truly left. But there was no further signal on my EFS, they were truly gone.

“We’re safe,” I said, reloading Temperance’s revolver. I was out of ammo other than the six rounds in the gun. I looked longingly at the six bullets in the cylinder, itching to fire them at something.

“My aim is garbage next to yours,” Pot commented, sitting on the floor and fiddling with his pistol.

“It’s all in the training,” I explained, helping him up. “If my aim is good enough then you surface ponies shouldn’t need to shoot at all,”

The stallion shook his head before sighing.

“You’re insane,” He said.

I looked at him, confused, but I guessed he probably couldn’t comprehend my motives. It would be no use to explain it to him, because he never would. Not that it mattered, anyway, considering that it wasn’t my job to teach. I was supposed to get rid of the bad ponies so the good ponies could be free! Sure, I had partially failed once, but I was going to make sure it didn’t happen again. Hopefully, the ponies of Bretton Farms would be able to provide me with more ammunition, I could fight without guns, but it would put me at a significant disadvantage.

“How much further until we get there?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Right before nightfall, at most,” He answered, strapping his saddlebags back onto his flanks.

He took a long look at the dead wolves that lay around us before turning to look at me.

“You wouldn’t happen to have salt in your saddlebags, would you?” He asked.

“Uhh, no?” I answered, confused, “Why?”

“Nothing just… doesn’t feel right to leave all this meat around,” The stallion replied, crouching next to one of the headless wolves.

I looked at the pony for a moment, trying to comprehend the implication. Eating another creature was not really something I had ever considered as a possibility. In some sort of way, it did make sense, canned food could only get you so far, after all. But still, that was a whole other creature right there.

How would you even go about it? I thought as I looked at one of the wolf carcasses. I guess you just… do what they do?

“I can probably carry one of them for later… If you want, of course,” I offered.

“Yeah that’s a good idea, do you think you can carry that one?” He asked, pointing at the largest carcass. It was a gray-furred wolf, the one I had shot first.

I replied by wrapping the carcass in my magic and draping it over my back. The stump that once held its head immediately poured blood over my side, staining my coat. I had an idea for that, however. With a flash of magic, I ripped off what little remained of my stable barding, the yellow 75 barely recognizable as numbers anymore.

“You served me well,” I told the tattered clothing item as I carefully wrapped the stump of the wolf’s neck with the fabric. It quickly became caked with blood, but it was enough for it to stop pouring out of the carcass.

“Are you sure you can handle that?” Pot asked, looking at me with concern.

“Pot, I carried you halfway across the wasteland,” I replied with a chuckle.

The stallion let out a short chuckle of his own.

“Fair enough,” He said. “Let’s keep moving, if I stop for too long I won’t be able to keep going,” He added, looking down at his crude prosthetic leg.

I nodded, stretching and taking a few steps to check if the weight on my back was well spread out. It was a little annoying, but nothing I couldn’t deal with!

We walked slowly but surely into the horizon, taking short breaks to let Pot rest. At one of these stops, I watched in a mix of horror and fascination as the stallion disassembled his gun and put it back together, repairing the firing mechanism as he did… if that mismatched box of springs could even be called a firing mechanism. In fact, after seeing what the inner workings of the gun looked like, I had become convinced that the way it worked was by making the bullets fire themselves just to get away from it.

The slow pace was absolutely killing me on the inside, as if a thorny branch had been shoved into my chest and was being torn out with agonizing slowness. My leg muscles burned, but it wasn’t the pain of carrying weight, nor was it the pain of radiation poisoning. It was the strain of in-action. I wished for nothing more than for something… anything, to happen. Even if it meant coming across some mutated monster, or rushing into a shootout… I could really use a good shootout, even if my ammunition was nearly depleted.

I tried making small talk with Pot, but he was too focused on throwing his shoulder forward and withstanding the pain to really answer with anything longer than a couple of words. The wasteland didn’t provide anything to distract me either, only endless plains of cracked soil. If it weren’t for the mountains being to our left instead of straight ahead, I may have thought that we were headed back to Junkyard.

I winced at the memories that flooded my mind. That had been an unfortunate start to my journey, but I couldn’t let it weigh me down. I’ll find more ponies to save, and settlements to help! I thought, kicking the awful memories into the back of my head. I needed to keep my mind clear on the task at hoof.

That was much easier said than done, considering the task at hoof consisted mostly of looking straight ahead and walking at an agonizingly slow pace.

We had been walking for several hours now. The day had burned out above our heads, painting the cloud ceiling of the wasteland with the oranges and yellows of the sun’s final stand before the darkness. It was only then that Pot decided to break the silence himself.

“Something’s wrong,” He said, stopping in his tracks.

“What is it?” I asked, following his sight and spotting several columns of smoke coming from further ahead. “Isn’t that the town?”

“That’s not cooking fire smoke,” He said, sitting on his haunches and letting out a deep, pained sigh.

“Are you sure?” I asked, not really sure what cooking smoke looked like, “Do you think something happened to them?”

“I… I hope not,” The stallion said, almost in a whisper.

“Come on, we need to get there, now!” I exclaimed, wrapping Pot in the crimson glow of my telekinesis.

“Hey hey hey wait!” Pot protested, but I was already running.

The mere suggestion that there may be trouble ahead injected energy into my legs, sending me flying across the wasteland and leaving a dust cloud in my wake. Despite carrying enough weight to topple a grown stallion, I kept charging as if I were carrying nothing at all. I can’t fail again, move! Faster! I told myself.

At last, we reached the town in a flurry of dust and limbs. I set Pot down behind a rock as softly as I could manage and unclipped my saddlebag from underneath me. With a jump, I flew out of the heavily laden packs and rolled onto the ground, revolver at the ready.

We had stopped a short distance away from the town… or rather, what remained of it. Several burned husks of buildings were strewn about what may have once been a central gathering area. There were four in total, all burnt.

The building furthest from us appeared to have suffered the least amount of damage, as in it had only partially collapsed as opposed to being reduced to a few blackened, smoking sticks. It was also the largest one by far, and judging by the scraps of red paint that still clung to its walls, it must’ve been a barn at some point.

My eyes darted across the ruins, trying to spot anything that could possibly be dangerous. When nothing immediately stood out to me, my eyes flashed over my EFS compass and then returned to the horizon, confirming that there was nothing in the area.

What I did notice, however, was that there were more than just four buildings. In between the burnt husks of the buildings lay the collapsed remains of scrap metal huts. Those must’ve been built after the war. I realized, only post-war surface dwellers would build their homes out of junk, after all.

“What happened here?” I said aloud, keeping my gun trained on the ruins.

Pot stumbled out from behind the rock and walked up to my side, pondering the destruction.

“I- I don’t know,” He said, his voice but a whisper.

I stared at our surroundings intently, confirming what my EFS already told me: this place was barren. Pot didn’t say a word, instead, he silently made his way toward one of the burnt houses. I walked up close to him, with the only sound in the area being the sparkling of my magic and the low hum of the blowing wind. My chest ached painfully as the rising heat of impending combat was viciously snuffed out by the nothingness that the breeze carried. The only thing worse than no fighting was no fighting after expecting a fight.

Temperance’s revolver flew back into its holster on my foreleg as I caught up with the blue stallion. He was staring directly at the burnt house he had been walking towards, his eyes slightly damp.

“What a waste,” He said, kicking a piece of burnt wood away.

I realized that this house was probably the one where the mare he had talked about before lived.

“Do you think she’s still alive? I don’t see any bodies,” I offered.

“I… I don’t think so…” The stallion answered. “We… should check if there’s anything left, go check those huts over there,” He said, shooing me off with a forehoof that pointed at one of the destroyed buildings on the other side of the town. His voice had trembled slightly as he spoke, but it didn’t break.

“Okay, okay…” I answered, raising an eyebrow at the stallion’s strange shift in tone.

Slowly I made my way back towards the hut he had pointed at. It looked very small, couldn’t have been larger than a bathroom back in my stable. But it was clear from what remained of the interior structure that it had once been divided into three separate sections.

I walked into the central one, feeling the burnt wood crunch under my hooves. That must’ve been the kitchen. I realized when I looked at the division to the left and spotted a red oven. The paint had bubbled and cracked in the fire, but in some parts, the color could still be seen. Broken plates and assorted cooking utensils lay among the remains of a small table and some chairs.

My magic started to tear and crunch at the wood that I assumed had once been cupboards, but there was nothing there other than severely burnt vegetables. I smiled when I ripped a plank out of the pile and revealed the blackened metal exterior of a can. My happiness disappeared quickly, however, when I pulled the can out and saw that it had already been opened, with the inside full of some blackened seeds.

Out of pure curiosity, I popped one of the less burnt seeds into my mouth, enjoying the toasted flavor.

“Not bad,” I said to myself, carefully separating the completely carbonized seeds from the rest and dropping them into my saddlebags. My PipBuck pinged in acknowledgment, marking the new item as ‘Roasted almonds’.

Slightly reinvigorated by the food, I turned to face the other side of the destroyed hut, where one of the walls was still standing. I spotted a half-destroyed dresser resting against the wall. Maybe something in there survived the fire…

A small object went flying when I walked into the division, causing me to jump slightly. A closer look revealed that it was a small blackened spring. Not just that, but several other springs lay around a large pile of ashes in the middle of the room. I wonder what this could’ve been… Maybe some kind of trampoline? But why would it be inside the house? I wondered as I threw open the door of the dresser.

Either my magic was too strong, or the fire had weakened the furniture too much. Whatever the case may be, the result was the same, a loud crack and a door flying off to the side. I didn’t pay it much mind, however, because my attention was immediately brought to the contents of the dresser.

Unsurprisingly, most of it was black and gray ash. A glint caught my eye, leading to my magic pulling out a single bottle cap. The sudden movement made the unstable pile of ashes shift and crumple away, revealing something truly interesting.

“What do we have here?” I said aloud as I wrapped my magic around the only piece of clothing that wasn’t a charred mess.

A nearly pristine, dark blue jumpsuit floated out of the dresser, seemingly untouched by the flames. A small stripe of yellowish white wrapped around each leg, and a thicker one went around the midsection. Whatever the stripe was made of let off a colorful sheen under my magic’s glow, drawing attention to it. Now this would make me hard to miss! I thought triumphantly, floating the jumpsuit closer to me. It reminded me of the costumes that comic book heroes wore, with the only difference being the clearly utilitarian purpose of it. Instead of a tight suit meant to display the wearer’s muscle, this one was loose and covered in pockets. It didn’t matter too much, I could always modify it later… Perhaps a cape…

The secret to the garment’s seeming indifference to the flames that had consumed its peers was revealed when I got a closer look at the tag on the inside of the collar. It was a fire-retardant factory uniform. I’m gonna look great in this! I thought excitedly as I slipped into the jumpsuit. It was clearly made for a rather large stallion, but a simple adjustment with the strap that went across my back and rolling up the sleeves slightly helped me fit into it. I slipped my holster back over my left leg and rolled up the right-side sleeve more so it would leave my PipBuck uncovered. The sleeve quickly rolled itself back down, but I adjusted it better and managed to make it stay up by tucking it underneath my PipBuck.

My gaze moved towards the darkening horizon, noticing that something was sticking out of the ground a short distance beyond the house. Curious, I walked out of the burnt remains and towards the small object, where I noticed that there were many more just like it spread around the ash-covered earth. I drew closer and saw that it was actually the stem of a plant, cut near the base and burnt to a crisp. I looked out into the horizon again and saw thousands of stems pointed at the skies. It made sense, I guessed, this was a farm after all.

Some distance away from the farm stood the collapsed remains of a large metal tube. A silo, I realized, recognizing the corrugated metal from the pictures I had seen back in the stable. Next to it I could just barely spot the twisted and blackened remains of some trees. This place had been completely destroyed, what a waste.

I turned back towards the town to see if Pot had found anything. Concern immediately flooded into my mind as I drew my revolver again. Where is he? I thought as my eyes scanned the horizon. My concern was unfounded, however, since not a second later I spotted the stallion. His blue coat stood out against the brown of the dirt and the blackened husks of the town’s buildings.

“Pot! Find anything?” I shouted at him. The stallion turned for an instant to look at me, but he quickly lowered his gaze.

What’s up with him? I thought as I walked closer. He was looking down into a pit that had been crudely dug into the ground next to one of the huts. I reached his side and noticed that the dirt under his head was slightly damp. The stallion turned away from me, but it was pointless, I could tell that he had been crying.

I looked at the pit in front of us, trying to see what he was sad about, what could-

Oh.

Charred ribs, small glistening baubles, scraps of burnt fabric, and most damningly of all, blackened skulls. Several bodies had been burnt here. And not just ponies, several of the skeletons were way too big to be ponies.

“They burned them with the animals…” Pot explained. “Savages,” He added, shaking his head.

The bones were truly an awful sight, but I knew from experience that if we had come across the bloated bodies of the inhabitants Pot wouldn’t have been able to keep his cool. Ghostly visions of the pictures I had been shown in the stable flashed through my mind, truly some revolting stuff. But it was all part of my training, and it was things I needed to be used to seeing so that the poor surface dwellers didn’t have to.

“Who did this?” I asked, putting my hoof on the stallion’s shoulder, trying to console him.

Pot shivered slightly and pulled away from my touch, letting my hoof fall back down to the ground.

“Could’ve been anypony,” He muttered, raising his head to stare at the horizon. “But out here? I’m pretty sure I know exactly who did this,”

“Tell me who,” I demanded.

“Only ponies that burn settlements like this are Redeye’s slavers. Bastards probably took anypony that was healthy and killed everypony else,” He spat, keeping his gaze fixed on the burnt corpses.

“Where can I find him?” I asked, slowly becoming enraged at the situation.

“I don’t know, somewhere in Fillydelphia I guess…” He said, not really giving me much.

“I need to know more if I want to stop them, Pot, what else do you know?” I demanded, stomping on the ground.

Pot said nothing, his gaze remained fixed on the horizon.

“Are you listening to me? I have to save them!” I shouted, getting even more impatient.

Again, the stallion remained silent.

“Pot-” I started, but the blue earth pony cut me off.

“Can ye just shut up for a moment? All ye do is talk and talk and talk! Shut the fuck up and let me think!” He exploded, slipping deeper into his singsongy accent.

“I just wanted to-”

“To what?! To say something stupid? Please just… stop,” He continued, slowly lowering his volume, he took a deep breath and looked at me again. “I won’t tell you anything about Redeye because I know you’ll want to throw yourself directly at him like an idiot! You are one mare, you can’t fight an army of slavers no matter how well you can shoot! They’ll chew you up and spit you out before you even got a look at him,” He said, his voice feeling a lot more measured.

My mouth slammed shut as the stallion’s words struck me like bullets. He doubted me, he doubted my abilities. But I couldn’t deny that he was right, I was only one mare, and I hadn’t been able to fight off a couple of guards before. What chance could I have against an army of slavers? Not to mention that I was essentially unarmed. It would be suicide to try and do anything.

Slavers… I thought, infuriated, How were they even allowed to keep existing? Just what had all the other graduates been doing? There’s a huge slaver empire right next to our stable, and an oppressive regime on the other! The opportunities to do good all but threw themselves at us! Was the world truly so dangerous that it simply chewed them up like food chips?

It made no sense! I haven’t faced any challenge I couldn’t overcome-

My thinking was cut off by a memory. A memory of explosions, disintegrating mares, and the horrible scent of my burned flesh. It did make sense, this wasn’t a training exercise. A single mistake out here could very well mark anypony’s end. I sat on my haunches, looking down at the ground.

Could it be true? Could they all have failed? No! It couldn’t be, we were the best of the best! They had to be out there somewhere, perhaps they were fighting for justice somewhere else in the city. I had only seen the outskirts, after all. I had to go find them, get weapons, get allies, and then free my stable from those impostors! Yes, once I did that I could lead a crusade against this Redeye bastard and mount his head on a spike for all slavers to see!

I got back up, ready to give Pot a piece of my mind. Before I could, however, all the hairs on my neck stood on point. I had spotted a white light out the corner of my eye. Was that a flash…?

My ears flattened immediately as a bullet flew right past me, less than a hoof’s distance from my head. The gunshot echoed across the empty wasteland, making Pot jump in place.

“Get down!” I shouted, tackling the stallion to the ground.

I looked around quickly to try and find cover. My body acted faster than I could even think, picking up Pot in my magic and jumping towards a boulder, moving as erratically as I could. Another shot flew past, just barely missing me.

Temperance’s revolver flew out of its holster, but it was mostly out of habit, there was no way I’d hit somepony from so far away. Hopefully, the boulder would be enough to conceal both Pot and me, but I knew I couldn't count on it. Pot drew his own gun, a terrified expression on his face.

“Any ideas?” I shouted at the stallion, who spat his gun into his forehooves to answer.

“What do you think?” He shouted back, looking at me with a pair of terrified eyes. “Can’t even see the bastard!”

“They’re somewhere behind us, let me think!” I shouted back. The stallion nodded and placed his gun back into his mouth.

My mind raced to try and craft some sort of strategy for getting out of here. The biggest hurdle was the fact that Pot couldn’t exactly run, and wrapping him in a bright red telekinetic glow in front of a sniper wouldn’t be the brightest idea. The complete lack of cover didn’t help at all either, we were wide open! Perhaps if we got to the ruined silo we’d have more luck, but it was way too far.

I glanced down at my EFS, spotting two blue bars next to me. One was clearly Pot, but the other was not… it couldn’t be the sniper, not unless they had somehow-

Pot let out a panicked grunt around his pistol’s grip, he took aim and started shooting at… the sky?

My gaze turned skyward and spotted a winged figure flying in circles to avoid my companion’s bullets. Something about it was strange, as it seemed to be holding its rifle in its forehooves instead of attached to their sides. I couldn’t really know for sure, since the darkening sky had reduced our attacker to a blurry black shape.

The strange creature corkscrewed around Pot’s shots and fired back, forcing the stallion and I to throw ourselves to the sides. Bullets struck the stone, showering us in rock fragments and dust. I rolled back up to my hooves and aimed into the sky to see… nothing?

“Where are you…?” I mumbled aloud.

I noticed that the cloud ceiling was significantly closer to the ground today, an ideal cover for a flying bastard to take potshots at us.

Right on cue, the flying bastard in question barreled out from the cloud layer, letting out several shots. I jumped aside the instant I saw the black figure among the clouds, barely dodging the barrage of gunfire. Before I could retaliate, however, it disappeared back into the clouds.

“The clouds are too thick, I can’t see him!” I shouted at Pot, who mumbled something in response. I couldn’t really catch any words around his pistol’s grip.

My EFS wasn’t much help either, considering it didn’t really track vertically nearly as well as it tracked on flat terrain. The bar was swinging wildly back and forth along my compass, never staying put enough for me to anticipate the attack. I fired up SATS and managed to get a lock on whatever my enemy was, but they were moving way too fast to waste a bullet. This was getting concerning.

I’m thinking too hard, I have to trust myself! my mind shouted at me. I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head for a moment. My eyes stopped scanning the clouds, instead focusing on a spot directly above us. Come on…

There! A dark shape broke through the cloud layer somewhere to my right, sticking out in my peripheral vision like a shining beacon. Temperance’s revolver spun around and fired thrice. The winged creature spun around in the air just as I started firing, making my first two shots miss, the third, however, connected. A loud squawking sound escaped from the enemy before it rapidly pulled back up into the cloud bank. A griffin, I realized, no pegasus would make a sound like that.

The sound of blood raining onto the ground almost broke my focus on the clouds… almost.

My senses were razor sharp, I could hear each drop of blood as it fell onto the dirt around us, slowly turning it into mud. The dripping sounds joined my thundering heart as it tried to beat out of my chest. Show yourself! I thought, trying to will the griffin to pop back out.

The request was answered with several gunshots flying out from the clouds. None of them hit anywhere near me and Pot, but they did have one effect. The cloud bank was disturbed ever so slightly as the griffin flapped their wings to compensate for the recoil.

Got you. I thought as I fired at the spot from where the bullets were coming.

The gunfire immediately went quiet before a dark figure fell to the ground among a shower of feathers. Just for good measure, I aimed and fired twice more at the falling griffin. More feathers went flying, but no other movement came from them.

A distant thump sound came from further away, the dark sky making it difficult to find the fallen enemy. I spotted a bundled-up figure some distance away from the rock we were hiding behind, it was unmoving. I stayed hidden behind the rock for a moment, wanting to make absolutely sure that they were dead. The fire in my chest slowly started to dim, the heat escaping through my coat like an overworked terminal. I let out a shaky sigh as the rush of adrenaline slowly ran its course, finally leaving my legs with a deep shake.

Pot let out a deep sigh, holstering his pistol and holding his head with his good hoof. He took a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“A Redeye scout, we need to get out of here, we’ll have a lot more to deal with when they don’t report back,” Pot stated, turning to face in the direction we had come in.

“We can rest in that building we passed a while back,” I offered, recalling a small fenced compound we had spotted shortly after the encounter with the wolves.

“The power station?” Pot asked, getting a nod from me in confirmation. “I don’t think we’ll reach it before night finishes setting in… and I’d rather not risk waltzing into a bandit hideout in the dark,” He added, looking at the sky.

“We don’t have much of a choice unless you want to sleep out here. You start heading back, I’ll go check to see if that griffin had anything useful on them. We should be safe to go to the station, this thing will let me know if anything’s hiding in it,” I said, raising my right foreleg to show him my PipBuck.

“Okay, don’t take too long, the faster we’re out of here, the better,” The stallion agreed. “I’ll leave your saddlebags where you left them,” He added before walking off.

I walked towards the fallen attacker, noticing the mostly circular pattern in which their feathers had fallen. In the center of the circle lay the griffon themselves, limbs twisted into unnatural angles from the force of the impact.

He didn’t have much on him other than several bullet holes. Whatever their gun had been, it was nowhere to be found, all I could find was a bandolier full of ammo that neither Pot nor I could make any use of. Some kind of radio was strapped to one of the griffin’s claws. I considered taking it, but there was a good chance that it could be used to track us down. The last thing I needed was something to mark me as a target as I trudged through the wastes.

Maybe I can use these for something. I thought, taking the bullets and dropping them into my saddlebags. The metallic clinking sound that the brass casings made as they waterfalled into the bag made me chuckle slightly. If only they were the right caliber… I thought, feeling my ears droop slightly.

I met back up with Pot and we set off through the wasteland, trying to put as much distance between us and the destroyed town as we could. The jaws of darkness closed around us rapidly. It was almost impressive how deep it was, I guess it was understandable since there were no stars or moon to even give a hint of light. I switched on my PipBuck flashlight, but its pale green glow could barely pierce the fathomless dark. Truly, we were walking blind.

Fortunately for us, my PipBuck was not laden with the biological limitations of eyes. The machine guided us under the inky sea of the starless sky toward our destination like a rope in a deep cave. Pot was exhausted, but I was still fine. I did offer to carry him on my back, but he refused.

“It should be just up ahead,” I said after checking my map and turning off my light. “Stay here while I check if there’s anypony there,”

“Okay,” The stallion whispered back from somewhere on my left. “Take my gun, I still have ammo,”

I looked at the stallion for a second, staring at the grip that poked out of his leg holster.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I said, trying my damndest to not retch at the idea.

I slipped out of my saddlebags again, crouching and starting my approach. Temperance’s revolver slowly slid out of its holster, held firmly in my mouth. Lighting my horn will just put a target on my forehead. I reasoned. Not that it really mattered anyway, as the gun was empty. The feeling of being armed yet not being actually able to use the weapon was… disturbing. But with any luck, the sight of the gun alone would give me a big enough window to use my horn.

Step by step I made my way closer to the point on my compass. In the darkness I couldn’t even make out the building itself, forcing me to go very slowly. The last thing I wanted was to hit the chain link fence and alert anypony in the station to my presence. It proved to be a good call when my revolver clinked slightly against the fence. The noise made me wince, but it was nowhere near loud enough to be heard from inside the station. My gaze went to my EFS compass, showing that it was completely clear. I turned around and spotted nothing other than the single blue bar that pointed in Pot’s direction.

With a relieved sigh, I holstered my revolver again. I made my way back to the stallion and picked up my saddle bags.

“Is it clear?” He asked.

“Yeah, unless it has a basement there should be nothing in there,” I confirmed.

We had to go around the compound for a bit before we found a hole in the fence, but we finally found a segment that had fallen over. When we got to the building itself, however, another problem arose. The door was locked.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Pot said, pushing the metal door as hard as he could, but it didn’t budge. “If this hasn’t been opened yet then it’s either broken or way too difficult,” He added, pointing at the lock.

I considered the round steel dome with a keyhole, it didn’t look broken, not that I’d know what a broken lock looked like.

“Can you pick it?” I asked, looking at the blue earth pony.

Pot let out a sigh.

“No, Burning was our lockpick, and I don’t even have a bobby pin to try,” He said, his ears drooping.

I was not planning on sleeping out here.

“Step aside, I’ll pick it,” I said, gently nudging Pot away from the door.

“Wait, you know how to pick locks?” The stallion asked, confused.

“Sure, how hard could it be?” I asked with a chuckle, lighting up my horn.

“I’m… pretty sure that’s not a good idea-” Pot started, but I cut him off quickly.

“Trust me,” I said.

My magic poured out of my horn, lighting up a small segment of the door. It was a simple metal door with a lock just underneath the knob. I focused on the lock, slowly spreading my arcane tendrils into the mechanism. Okay… so if I…

Power surged through my horn like a bolt of crimson lightning. The feeble lock never stood a chance! Springs, pins, and other assorted parts went flying out of the door under the extreme pressure of my magic. The shock of the arcane explosion swung the door open and slammed it into the wall on the inside of the building. By some miracle, the hinges survived the impact.

“There! I got it!” I exclaimed before skipping into the dark room.

“You’re insane!” Pot shouted at me. “You could’ve lost an eye with one of those pieces!”

“Well, I didn’t!” I replied, laughing.

The pale glow of my PipBuck was just enough to let me see Pot’s flabbergasted expression.

It only took a minute to look around the station and confirm that there was, in fact, no basement. We were all alone in a room occupied by nothing other than some broken consoles.

Pot set up his burner and Burning’s lamp in the middle of the steel grate floor. I, for my part, unfurled both of our bedrolls on the far side of the building, as far away from the door as I could. Our saddlebags were piled onto it to make sure it remained shut through the night… or at least that any attempt to open it would cause a lot of noise. The blue stallion set his pot down over the burner, pouring a few drops of a thick golden liquid into it.

I made my way to one of the desks, seeing that the terminals on the desks were not like the one Tourniquet had back at the medical center. These were a lot less round, flimsier, even. The plastic casing was grainy and partially missing, but it seemed like it had decayed naturally instead of any sort of impact. The screen was covered in so many white bubbles that I doubted I could even see anything on it if I were to get it to turn on. My attention was brought to the desk itself, a simple metal table with a pair of drawers. I opened the top one, spotting a familiar sight.

Memory orbs. Two crystal spheres sat within the drawer. Back in the stable we had been made to use them during training. Vistas of battlefields and autopsies flashed through my memory at the sight of the orbs, nearly making me drop one as I picked it up with my trembling hooves.

“I wonder what’s in these…” I said to myself.

“Put those down!” Pot shouted from behind me.

I turned around and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“They’re memory orbs, what’s wrong with them?” I asked.

“I’ve seen what those things do to unicorns, you’re lucky you didn’t try to pick it up with your magic,” The stallion said, clearly agitated.

“What do you mean? They take you into the memory and let you experience it,” I explained. It was pretty understandable that an earth pony wouldn’t know what they were, after all.

“Yeah, then your ears start bleeding and you never wake up again, I’ve seen it happen,” The stallion said.

I looked down at the orb in my hooves, turning it over. Hmm, I wonder what that’s all about… The orb looked pretty much identical to the ones we had at the stable. Could the surface have done something to them? I spun the orb around in front of me, where I spotted a small inscription on the bottom. Two ‘F’s were carved into the sphere, a logo of some sort.

“Hmm, strange,” I muttered, dropping the orb back into the drawer.

There wasn’t anything else inside of it other than a single bobby pin and some bottle caps. I put the pin in my mane for safekeeping.

“We should eat the wolf first, it won’t stay good forever,” Pot said, his cooking pot finally getting hot enough.

“Good point,” I agreed, wrapping the carcass in my magic.

I considered the wolf for a moment. How were we supposed to eat this thing? Eating plants was simple, you grabbed the plant and just bit into it. It was quick and easy, same with basically every packaged food I had seen so far! But this thing? I had no idea.

I can’t just do what any other animal would do… Or can I…? I thought, focusing on one of the wolf’s hind legs. The thigh wasn’t really dirty, it was the paw itself that had a layer of dry mud on it. Maybe other animals do have a point, I thought as I lifted the carcass to my mouth.

It was… chewy, to say the least, and extremely tough. But the taste wasn’t that bad, my neck muscles strained as I pulled a chunk of the juicy flesh off the wolf’s thigh bone. Eh, I’ve eaten better things, I thought as I swallowed the chunk of meat. The sensation of finally eating ignited my appetite fully despite the barley-palatable meal. I ripped another chunk off, chewing it for a few seconds and really squeezing all the juiciness out of it. This bite didn’t have as much hair on it as the previous one, letting me fully enjoy the taste.

“Hey Pot, you want some?” I asked after swallowing.

The stallion was sitting next to his cooking pot, facing away from me. He turned his head with a raised eyebrow before jumping up so high he nearly hit the roof.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YE DOIN’?” He shouted, his strange accent flaring up significantly.

I looked up at him with a piece of the stringy meat still in my mouth.

“Eatinf,” I answered.

Pot’s face went through a wide array of emotions before my eyes. Desperation, hopelessness, and, finally, absolute confusion.

“You’re supposed to skin it and cook it before you eat it!” He said at last. “Or at the very least wash the damn thing!”

I swallowed the chunk of meat in my mouth, not intending to waste food. The action made the blue on Pot’s face turn to cyan as he retched.

“Well how was I supposed to know?” I demanded, dropping the bloodied carcass. “Animals don’t do any of that, they just… eat the thing and that’s it!”

“Yes, animals do that!” Pot shouted back. “We’re not wild animals, Black Light, we’re ponies!”

“It was an honest mistake!” I offered.

Pot facehoofed at my response.

“Okay, whatever, give me that,” He said, gesturing to the carcass.

“I knew it!” I exclaimed victoriously. “You do want some!”

“No you idiot I’m going to cook it properly!” Pot shouted back.

Oh yeah, that makes sense too. I thought, levitating the wolf over to the stallion.

“I swear if you get sick from that I’m not even going to bother with burying you,” The stallion muttered.

“Well, other animals don’t die when they eat it!” I huffed.

“Just… shut up,” Pot said, his tone almost desperate.

The cooked meat tasted significantly better than the raw thing. I dug into the strips that Pot had cut from the wolf and cooked with the same gusto as I would’ve dug into a plate of daisy chips. Despite the lack of spices, which according to Pot would make the meat taste even better, the meal was still delicious.

“This is so much better than raw,” I said while I chewed on a particularly tough piece of meat.

“You know I’m genuinely starting to believe that you crawled out of a hole in the ground,” Pot answered, keeping his gaze on his own meat.

I looked up at him, confused.

“Starting to?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

“Well, I’m sorry if it didn’t sound like a believable story!” He exclaimed rather defensively. “Baltimare is a shithole, It's pretty hard to believe some crazy pony that claims to want the best for you,”

That makes sense… but why didn’t any of the previous graduates make a better name for our stable? Or a name at all, for that matter. I wondered, staring into the stallion’s green eyes.

“But after seeing you genuinely try to help at the medical center and helping me out… I’m believing you,” He explained. “... And also because you have no clue how to survive out here, you wouldn’t last a day, let alone years,” He added.

“Is this because I tried to eat the-?”

“Yes it’s because you tried to eat the wolf raw,” Pot answered before I even finished asking the question.

I let out a laugh at the stallion’s concerns.

“Hey, at least I have you to keep me on track! And to make some spectacular food!” I exclaimed, walking up to the stallion and giving him a big hug.

Almost immediately the stallion’s body tensed up. I could feel the muscles under his coat vibrate like coils. Clearly, he still wasn’t used to physical affection, but I was sure that eventually, he would come to accept it.

That moment had clearly not come yet, as the stallion coughed and made his best effort to push me off. Not that he had even a sliver of a chance of making me budge, but I relented nonetheless. The very instant my hooves unwrapped from around him, the stallion scooted quite some distance away from me before raising his hoof to press against his prosthetic shoulder.

“Oh!” I said when I realized what the problem was. “Did I squeeze you too hard?”

“N- no it’s… never mind,” He stuttered. “Are- are you done with the food?” He asked, pointing at the few strips of meat that were left in the pot.

“Oh yeah, I’ll eat it,” I said, walking up to the pot and levitating out the remains of the meal.

I ate the rest of the meat, feeling extremely full. Funny how it had been a very long time since I had felt completely stuffed. The memory was hazy, but I somewhat remembered when one of the older fillies back in the stable had gotten sick right as we were sitting down to eat. Among the chaos, I grabbed her bowl and ate a double portion. A smile parted my face at the memory. I wonder where she may be now?

I noticed that Pot had gone quiet, and I looked over at him to notice that he was holding something in his forehooves. It looked like some kind of beret, dark green in color, a round golden emblem was sewn onto the front of the hat.

“What’s that?” I asked.

The stallion shivered for a moment before stashing the hat back into his saddlebags.

“It’s nothing, just a hat I found at the farm,” He said, his tone cutting. “We should sleep, wouldn’t want to waste too much daylight,” He added.

That’s weird… why so defensive? I wondered. He looked s if the destroyed farm has really affected him, I didn’t want to press him too much.

“Aren’t you going to clean the pot?” I asked, trying to change the subject as fast as I could.

The stallion had emptied some of his water into the bottom of the pot, letting it simmer slightly.

“I’m not going out there just to clean it, I’ll do it in the morning,” The stallion explained. “This should stop the fat from sticking to the bottom too much,”

The stallion set the pot aside and turned back towards the back of the building, where he slipped into his bedroll. I walked over and slipped into my own. Or, rather, the bedroll I had taken from Double Cross. It was pretty cold, but I knew it would warm up quickly.

“Speaking of tomorrow… where are we heading?” I asked the stallion.

“I am heading back to the medical center, I suppose. Are you sure you want to head up to the Steel Rangers?” Pot asked while he fiddled with the lamp’s knob.

“Yeah, I am, I need their help,” I answered

“I can’t stop you, but you need to be really careful with them. They’ll kill you if they feel like it would benefit them,” The earth pony explained.

I was, understandably, taken aback by his words. The rangers had seemed like nothing but paragons of peace. Sure, Tourniquet had a sudden mood change, but given how it was after he found out that Bleeding Heart had died? It could be excused.

“Why do you hate them so much?” I asked, curious.

Pot opened his mouth immediately, but remained silent for a couple of seconds, as if he were thinking about it.

“Because they only care about themselves and their technology, and they don’t care how many ponies they have to hurt to get it,” The stallion said.

“Tourniquet seemed rather concerned about the medical center working like it should,” I retorted.

“He probably had some ulterior motive, they always have an ulterior motive,” Pot said.

“Maybe, maybe, but right now it’s the best shot I have,” I stated.

The stallion huffed and turned around to face away from me, turning off the lamp between us before he did. His mistrust of the Rangers just sounded so irrational. The only explanation for his hatred of them must be that he had some bad experiences.

I stayed there in silence for a while before bringing my PipBuck up to my face. I switched through the many screens, looking at the map, then at my items, and finally at my tasks. There wasn’t much to do with this thing, but I wasn’t tired enough to sleep yet. It seemed like Pot was restless too, as he kept turning over and adjusting his position.

“Okay listen,” The stallion said, making my ear twitch. “I can’t let you kill yourself by messing up with the Steel Rangers… and I’m sure you won’t last a day out here on your own,”

I opened my mouth to protest, but to be fair, he was telling the truth. If it hadn’t been for him I would’ve used that trapped memory orb, or gotten sick from the raw meat…

“I owe you for saving my life, so I’ll try my best to help you out too,” He continued. “Besides, worst case scenario, at least my leg won’t hurt so damn much,” He added with a dry chuckle.

“What do you mean? You think it’ll heal more?” I wondered.

“No, Black Light, I mean that if anything goes wrong we are both going to get blasted to oblivion,” Pot deadpanned.

I chuckled at his words. Nah, that won’t happen. I thought, smirking, I could probably deal with a couple of steel Rangers! How hard could it be? I was still confused by Pot’s mistrust of the Rangers, but the fact that he was willing to put it aside just to make sure I was alright could only mean that he didn’t hate them that much. With any luck, a good experience with them would probably help him get over his mistrust!

“I bet we’ll be fine!” I chirped.

“Just.. sleep,” He answered.

I turned around and crawled deeper into my bedroll, excited that I could continue to keep Pot safe. Despite my chest burning with excitement at the prospect of seeing more Steel Rangers, I had to swallow it back down and screw my eyes shut. Wouldn’t do me any good to be sleepy tomorrow, after all.

STABLE-TEC UNIFIED OPERATING SYSTEM

COPYRIGHT 1624 - 1626 STABLE-TEC

Biographical Registry System v.147

Full name: Bretton Tea

Classification: Earth pony stallion – 251 years of age – C-83B865 M-EEC038 E-4AC509

Cutie mark: A tea bag

Bretton Tea was the oldest member of the Bretton family, whose history in the wasteland began almost as soon as the wasteland itself did, as he was ghoulified by the balefire bombs that were dropped on Fillydelphia during his escape from the city. He made it back to his family farm, which was thankfully spared from the destruction.

Over the next centuries, Bretton Tea remained sane by maintaining the farm. This was until a group of traders passed by the farm, where they took note of the expertly maintained buildings. On a different trip, they approached the farm and were welcomed with open hooves by the old ghoul. Tired from their travels, the traders decided to settle down with the old ghoul and help him work the farm, turning the budding settlement into an attractive trading outpost.

Bretton Tea was a kind stallion who liked treating others as if they were his grandchildren, he was a skilled carpenter, farmer, blacksmith, and gunslinger. He passed away during the destruction of Bretton Farms, brought upon them by Redeye’s slavers.

Author's Note

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