Drill and Comet’s first day at the Hothouse could’ve gone a lot better.

But it also could’ve gone a lot worse.

They’d spent the rest of their shift thawing out the grow bed rack Drill had flash frozen and by the end of it, Drill was feeling weary. Physical labour was nothing new to him, he’d been doing it for years. Comet however struggled a lot more and often had to take breaks, but even he couldn’t hide the smile on his face from breaking ice chunks with a pickaxe.

When the two left all that remained were a few scattered blocks that’d melt overnight.

True Applebloom was still a little cross with them in the end, but she mellowed out somewhat and seemed like she’d be over it by the next morning.

After dinner it was a simple matter of going home, and by the sun did Drill feel full. Turns out that while the farmers didn’t receive larger bowls of rations than everypony else, they did get the freshest. And after living off half rations for several days Drill’s belly felt pleasingly heavy.

He’d almost say he felt like himself again, almost.

But now it was getting dark and the two were heading home. Weaving around crowded streets as everypony else was also coming off shift. Drill’s sluggishness and Comet’s inability to see over his head meant they were practically swimming blind in this ocean of bodies. Even in the post-apocalypse, rush hour wasn’t kind.

Inevitably, there was an accident and the two crashed into some creature who’d hit them hard enough that they fell to the ground.

Like a rock in a river back, the crowd went around them as Drill got up to see who’d he bumped into.

Staring back at him with a sheepish smile was yet another Diamond Dog. It wasn’t Cazrel though, this one had a much smaller frame and looked to have been a pitbull with white and brown patched fur. He even still had his collar featuring several blue gems, with a single depression where it looked like one went missing.

“Is it just me or do I have a real habit of bumping into Diamond Dogs?”

Drill climbed to his hooves and helped Comet do the same before turning to him. “Sorry about that.”

The dog muttered something, probably a “you’re welcome,” but it was so quiet it was lost to the crowd as he recovered. It was at this point Drill noticed something: That at no point did he take his eyes off Comet for more than a few seconds…

Drill did not like that.

Maybe he was just curious about the wing? Many ponies were giving Comet those looks but it never bothered the colt.

It didn’t matter much as the lanky Diamidian disappeared into the crowds, but something about that irked him.

He decided not to dwell on it and continue home.

Drill leaned back into his bed and rested for a time. He had to give up his reading chair during the apartment’s refit and had to make due. But now he had more of an excuse to use the lamp on his nightstand as opposed to the overhead.

He could probably even use it to prop up books and read while lying down, so not that bad of a change.
Still, today had been a chaotic day for him. Not quite on par with when he…first met Comet, but definitely tiresome.

Now he was prepared to settle in and-

Knock Knock Knock!

Drill’s head snapped towards his door, already knowing what was next and fought back a tired sigh.

“So this is what fatherhood feels like huh? How am I gonna get used to this?”

“Come in Comet! I’m just lying down.”

The door opened and Comet appeared wearing a set of stitched-together pyjamas with tiny stars drawn on.

“Mr. Drill Bit, are you okay?” He softly asked.

Drill fumbled and his head drew blanks when he tried to reply, he was so used to helping the colt with his own emotions that this change of pace blindsided him. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Back at work you said you’d lost somepony, then coming home you looked worried. I heard adults were good at hiding when they're sad so I just thought I’d ask.”

The bed creaked as Drill got up and shook himself back to wakefulness, hoping it’d clear his thoughts.

“Well, I never did get the chance to finish what I was saying.” He got up from his bed and wandered over to his bookcase and started peering over them, looking for something specific. Before long he pulled out a hardback photo book and returned to his bed, smiling as he offered the spot next to him to Comet.

Drill opened the book as Comet took that spot on the bed, watching his reactions as Drill flicked through page after page of photos. Many of them depict little events of celebration or beauty. A birthday party with Steel Beam and Toy Chest, a sunset horizon at the edge of a cliff, a lush forest on a hike.

“I know it might not look like much, but this is what Equestria looked like before Steamtech.”

Comet looked upon the images with wonder, as though it were a fairy tail. “There’s so much green, is that all old copper?”

“Uh…no. Comet. That’s grass and those are trees, did you not know that?”

Comet turned to Drill looking slightly down. “I didn’t see many plants before it snowed. I’m from Voxburn, that place had metal and stone everywhere.”

Drill eyes went wide and he spoke slowly. “How much?”

“Doesn’t everywhere mean like…everywhere? It was Professor Fire Heart’s home so it got pretty popular.”

“Dear Celestia, the boys never touched grass until earlier today.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as he tried to think of a way to transition away from…that little revelation. It was a haunting thought to be sure but it made the book all the more important to him. Drill turned another page and showed Comet a golden field of wheat, which if his freckles were stars, they’d be twinkling right now.

This went on for a while as Drill showed more and more, explaining each photo and each time seeing the wonder in Comet’s eye. Once more filled with heartwarming joy as the colt asked question after question.

While joyous it was also a sad reminder of how the world he’d once known was truly being forgotten, as there were already generations growing up who’d never seen a world that wasn’t frozen over. It was a sobering thought to be sure.

But it was all fluff, he was only delaying the inevitable. He knew at some point he’d have to talk about her, and after a few more pages photos of her started cropping up.

An earth pony mare with a dirty copper orange coat and lighter blonde mane, with eyes as blue as sapphires and a smile to rival an angel.

“See that mare?” Drill asked, his voice low and genuine. “Her name was Copper Pan and she was my wife, we both loved each other very much.”

Comet sensed the change of tone and looked at him worriedly. “What happened?”

Drill sighed, already mentally preparing himself to recount the event.

“You know the Generator? That big thing in the middle of the city? You can see it from your window.”

He nodded.

“Well much like your parents, she and I were part of the construction crew. I was the Forepony keeping everycreature organised, and her job was to help move wagons full of wood for scaffolds.”

Even as he spoke, the memories started to flood back, to where he could hear the many ponies working and the smell of the metal all around him.

“One day though…” Drill paused, taking a deep breath in. “I was told we were falling behind, none of us knew how important the Generator was yet but…I was told above all else, we had to be fast.”

Comet shifted in place using a hoof to make circles in the fabric. Visibly concerned for the ageing stallion.

“At first I’d cut a few corners, skip an inspection here and there, cut a few breaks short. But then one day…there was an accident. The scaffold collapsed while Copper was on them…s-she’d stayed up the night before.”

He then turned to Comet, licking his lips trying to get the words out. It was like a lump had lodged itself into his throat as he tried. “Because of me.”

Despite his age, Comet could tell Drill was on the verge of tears, he could hear it in his voice as it cracked. To him, Drill Bit was quite a stoic stallion but here he could see him breaking at the seams.

“I-It only got worse after that. Other foreponies started having accidents, l-letters coming in had to be censored…to keep ponies motivated. They’d die…or-or live never knowing if their families were ever accepted here…or at any other s-site.”

“I want to believe that I’m a good pony but…It’s hard to live with that, knowing what you’ve done.”

At last, tears began rolling down Drill’s cheeks and the bottle burst. He softly whimpered and snorted as an untold number of events came down upon him at once. The muscles in his cheeks ached, the lump in his throat grew and his head throbbed with pain.

Yet in all that he still had a life preserver to cling to amongst this violent storm: Comet.

The boy clung to him and wrapped his wing over his back, staying quiet as he shared in his pain. Drill gently wrapped a hoof around and returned the embrace in kind, both now having found some common ground.

It was grief.

Drill’s breakdown wasn’t nearly as loud or over the top as Comet’s, but it did last for significantly longer by comparison. Comet had to go grab some paper from the bathroom for Drill to dry himself with, but like Comet he did eventually calm down before he was addressed.

“My dad told me something I think you should hear Mr. Drill. He told me a good pony will remember one wrong and be sad forever, and a bad pony will do one right and be happy forever. I know I can be a little dumb sometimes but I think you’re a great pony!”

Drill snorted and wiped his face with a tissue, “Th-Thank you Comet.”

“I mean it! You saved me at least twice, got me little Luna and my own room! I’m not at the Ore Plant anymore and just now you showed me what a cherry tree looks like! I didn’t know trees could be pink!”
A happy chuckle escaped Drill’s vocals as he glanced at the photo book-

“You’re a good pony Mr. Drill, your brain is just being mean.”

-before it turned into a deep, hearty laugh that even gave Comet a grin. It was the kind of witty energy he needed after having gone through so much. “That it is, you’re quite right.” He chuckled.

They paused for a time as they rode out the high and Drill closed his book. Never would he have known the little colt could be so self-aware. But he wasn’t about to turn down some good humour. He felt as though a weight had been lifted and turned to him with a smile.

“Thank you Comet, would you like to be tucked in?”

“Yes please!”

It was an unusually windy night in New Canterlot.

Very few ponies still walked the streets at this hour and those that did typically stayed close to the light while wrapping themselves in as many layers as they could. Convenient then that the moon pierced through the clouds, illuminating iced over rooftops and snow-covered streets better then any guard station could.

It was the only real reprieve from the bitter jabbing cold that tore through the city.

But for those resting they were treated to the perfect background noise to drown out the churning of pipes and shifting of cogs. Leading to easier acquired sleep than most and doing so within the relative comfort of their homes, however small they may be.

Yet something disturbed Drill Bit’s slumber and his unconscious mind began to reawaken. The sound of constant tapping against his window sent his mind back a decade or two.

“Damn tree, need to get those branches trimmed come morning.”

It took all of five seconds for the present to catch up to him.

“Wait…New Canterlot doesn’t have trees.”

Drill shot up from bed wide awake and turned to the source. There, perched on his one remaining window with its back to the moon…

Was the owl.

His heart sunk through the bedframe, his stomach twisted and the whole world darkened. Narrowly focused on that single black silhouette.

“Oh no,” He whispered to himself. “No no nononono, please not now. Not again.”

Drill didn’t raise his voice for fear of disturbing Comet but by the sun he wanted to. He wanted to scream at this thing for all it’d done to him, and for whatever it was about to do next. Throwing the covers he climbed out of bed and began to advance slowly.

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

The owl stared back in silence and quietly tapped the glass, not once taking sight off him.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? I’m taking care of a kid now I can’t play this game!” Drill’s voice trembled, shifting rapidly between fear and anger.

As he drew near the window the owl stopped tapping, instead choosing to only stare. So many other times had Drill been subjected to the unspoken malevolence that eyesight alone brought on but here, it wasn’t present.
He did not feel judged or looked down upon, there was no harsh glare or cold undertone, no ill-intent or woeful will behind those eyes.

Yet the fear he felt couldn’t have been any more real.

Fear of the future, fear of the unknown and of uncertainty. The animal couldn’t understand him so what was he hoping to achieve? Some kind of peace?

Whatever his motivation he wasn’t afforded long to dwell on it as when the window drew within reach, the owl suddenly spread its wings and jumped, flying off into the moonlit city.

Drill stood still as a statue staring through the window with his heart racing no slower.

Now he was stricken with dread, a horrible, lingering dread for what the owl had in store for him. A horrible accident? Bad news about a friend? Maybe Ballpoint was going to throw them out of the Hothouses? Or worse…what if it was the sign of another disaster? Akin to the Great Storm?

When this all started he was never the type to believe in the supernatural, he’d only asked Steel Beam out of curiosity. But now just about anything was possible.

He walked up to the window and peered outside if only to allow the beautiful night sky to help clear his mind. The clouds had moved away to reveal a canvas of bright stars unobscured by the perpetual snowfall. While Drill had never been one to wonder what lay outside his little world, the events of the past two weeks had certainly been something.

“All this, because of some fate-twisting owl.”

By now his anger had managed to overtake his fear, and in his mind, he imagined bucking the owl in the face for all the misery it caused him…everyone in Equestria. Yet, as his eyes drifted back towards the door towards Comet’s room, a small glimmer of joy broke through the rage.

“I suppose he’s helped…in a way. I wouldn’t have met Comet otherwise, I would’ve kept continuously tolling away until the reaper came knocking.”

“So, now what? Do I still need to do something? Prove myself somehow? I thought I’d done enough.”

That was when a sapphire glitter caught his eye from behind the window seal. Setting aside his train of thought, he opened the window and allowed a gust of cold wind to blow through his mane. Not wanting to vent out his room’s warmth he quickly grabbed the object and shut it again.

It was a small, well-cut blue gemstone no larger than his hoof and seeing it struck him with deja vu, though he couldn’t reason why.

Was it a hint? Any clue what was coming? If it was it’d be a coin toss if he’d figure it out. Drill wasn’t the type to put pieces together quickly, his realisation back at the Hothouse proved that much.

Whatever was coming, he had to be ready.

Author's Note

“The Last Autumn” is the pre-frost period where Equestria focused much of its industrial efforts on constructing the Tower Generators. However, mismanagement, complications in construction and crumbling logistics, in addition to other issues, resulted in a high death toll for these construction sites.

Over half of them failed.