One would think that, after my whole ordeal on Gravalax, I, Ciaphas Cain, bearer of the wholly undeserved title “Hero Of The Imperium”, would be able to get a brief respite and have a little R&R time, if only for the duration of the 597th’s trip through voidspace. 

One would also think that after some point, I’d learn to stop tempting fate by making assumptions like that. Because now fate has plucked me from the passenger cabin I was getting some much-needed sleep in and dumped me headfirst into my latest inglorious, unwanted adventure. 

Admittedly, the planet I’ve been stranded on is an okay place to live… if you’re willing to ignore the fact that it’s a Daemon World… or the countless beings on it that seek to murder my physical form, eat my immortal soul, sell me into slavery, subject me to something even worse, or some combination of the above… or how I’m separated from the Vahallan 597th and Jurgen and have not the faintest clue where to find either of them… or how I’m also stuck in the body of a four-foot-tall pony with wings and a horn… or the fact that I’m an unsanctioned, untrained psyker now on top of all that… 

…throne, who am I kidding? The Wasteland is a frakking hellhole, and all I have between the various horrific fates it has on offer and my body, mind, and soul are my laspistol, my chainsword, my improbable knack for leadership and silver tongue, and a ragtag, dysfunctional band of disparate, half-mad ponies that are apparently held together solely through the raw force of my charisma.

Wish me luck; by the Throne, I’m gonna need it.

This is a fanfiction based (loosely) on KKat’s Fallout: Equestria and some of the spin-offs. Be aware that this is an alternate timeline; aside from certain beats from the lore and a few familiar-looking locations and characters, this is an entirely separate storyline from the original Fallout: Equestria. Mostly because Equestria got invaded by WH40k Daemons instead of zebras, but still.

Before we begin, keep in mind that this has every single content warning possible and the dark tag for a reason, and that reason will become very clear as early as Chapter 2. The forces of Chaos are not the sort to hold back for the sake of the audience's comfort, and I will pull no punches with regards to how sadistic and/or depraved those under the Dark Gods’ thrall can become.

"Are you kidding me? That sketch isn't even remotely accurate! I'm navy blue, not brown, and my hair's red and yellow, not black! That chainsword is only half as large as it's supposed to be! The uniform's all wrong! And where's my horn?! Or my wings?! Or my laspistol?!"

*sigh* "Guess it'll have to do..."