Fallout: Equestria - Change

Chapters

Chapter 1: Rebirth
Chapter 2: Slavers
Chapter 3: Bulbs and The Fields
Chapter 4: Garlic
Chapter 5: Crossfire
Chapter 6: Background Stirrings
Chapter 7: Red
Chapter 8: The Mute, the Mime, and the Maimed
Chapter 9: New Canterlot
Chapter 10: Revelations
Chapter 11: Freedom
Chapter 12: Easy Come, Easy Go
Chapter 13: Ascendence
Chapter 14: Business and Pleasure
Chapter 15: Exodus
Chapter 16: Shipping
Chapter 17: The Crystal Caves
Chapter 18: Failure
Chapter 19: Continuity
Chapter 20: Fallout
Epilogue
Prologue

Chapter 1: Rebirth

“Continue?”

I sat at the mouth of a cave, and looked out at the land before me. The mountain slope below was nothing but cracked red rock. A line of water trickled down from the mountain’s top miles above me to curve past the opening I had just emerged from. Far below me was a swamp, and to the east I saw nothing but empty fields. On the horizon, past some hills, I could make out the hint of a shore and water, perhaps the sea. The sky was a billowing mass of sickly grey clouds.

I put a shaky hoof forward, and began my journey down the mountain.

I had become aware of myself only a short time ago. Minutes? Hours? Seconds? I did not know. The first thing I had noticed was the heat. Warmth enveloped me, and a pressure drove into my ears. I sweat until my sides began to itch, and the sensation was what jolted me from the verge of sleep into consciousness. I pushed outward with my legs, meeting resistance I couldn’t see. I realized I was trapped here, wherever “here” was, and I panicked. I pushed out harder. I felt an oozy liquid all around me, and my lungs suddenly burned. Air. I needed air. I pushed out with all my might, and felt it give. I heard a dull, squishy pop and the wetness around me melted away. I tumbled out onto hard rock and crawled blindly forward, and then lay on the ground gasping as the cold air of the world hit me.

Wake! You must feed.

I opened my eyes, and saw vague shapes around me. I dragged myself to my feet, and noticed a rough circle of light in front of me. I stumbled toward it, still acting on instinct, until my hoof knocked into something. I looked down.

It was a creature. A pegasus pony. A dead pegasus pony. I blinked at it. Then I poked it experimentally with a hoof. It was cold and stiff. I looked around the small cave, and saw that it wasn’t the only one. Four forms total, all silent and unmoving, lay scattered about. One at my feet, another against the wall, and two on either side of the thing that had held me. A cocoon. The dark green sphere was split open, and the emerald-colored yolk that had surrounded me was drying slowly where it had splattered. All the pegasi wore some sort of armor on their bodies, but it was too dark to make out any other details. I turned back to the light before me, and climbed out.

I could do nothing but boggle at my situation as I hiked toward the ground. What had happened there? Who were those ponies? How did I get there? I hadn’t an inkling. I knew the names of everything I saw. Rock. Sky. Clouds. Trees. But I had no memories of what had come before my awakening.

War.

As I walked I placed a hoof on a rock that turned out to be unstable. It slid out from under me and I almost fell down with it, but I was able to react fast enough to save myself. I flapped my wings to slow my fall, and set myself down on a much more stable boulder several feet below. I heard a hiss from above me and glanced back up.

A thin, pink snake flew down at me. Apparently the rock I had dislodged had been part of its home, but I had little time to worry about that as I dodged to the right and narrowly avoided getting my flank bitten. I hovered in the air beside it, and it hissed at me. I hissed back, but my attempt at intimidation failed and it launched itself at me again. I stopped fluttering my wings, and then slapped a foreleg through the air as it passed above me. I hit it and it flew away, taking a small avalanche of pebbles with it as it bounced across the rocky slope. I landed awkwardly on a rock below me, panting. I was very weak, and using my wings for even that brief moment had exhausted me. Food. I needed food. Or, better yet, love. Wait, love?

Yes, love.

That is how we Changelings grow and live. Off the love of others. We trick them and leech their love away. We bleed their hearts dry and then slink off to the next prey, leaving their true lovers weeping and alone.

Wha—?

I stepped off the rocky mountain onto the ground and immediately felt lightheaded. The feeling quickly became dizziness, and I didn’t even have the capacity to wonder what was happening as everything suddenly went dark.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

We watch. We wait. In this darkness we stand as still as statues. We must wait. This must work. We must have love. The Queen must have love. There is so little left. The Empire has grown so hungry, the Queen so weak...

WEAK!

How we hate them. We hate these ponies and we hate these zebras and we hate these griffons who all hate each other and so recklessly threw away paradise to kill and die and foster their hatred so they may keep killing and dying. They leave us with almost nothing. There is no love in war, no trust in conspiracy, no forgiveness in death...

We watch. We wait. Here they come. The last happy ones. We have snuck so far from our empire to reach theirs. The Queen starves. These ponies are her last hope. Here they are, below us. They shimmer. We glow for a moment, and then we shimmer as well. We have become them. We drop down and strike. They have no time to scream. They are encased and imprisoned. Two of us drag them to obscurity.

Two others walked back out into the light. We smile and act their part. We are good at this. The best. There is no suspicion.

Days.

Already we are feeding. Feeding from the Empress’s love. Hers is the greatest love in the world, and she showers her citizens with it. We gorge ourselves on it. Already the Queen grows stronger, even off the mere scraps she can syphon.

Months.

We are slowly regaining strength. The Queen would move closer, but it is far too dangerous. Equestria is a deathtrap for us. We go in, but always they catch us with their magic. Magic and technology which we cannot hope to compete with. We have no love, so we have no power. We have no place in this warring world.

A year.

A year we lasted. A year before the Empress’s love faded and is now gone. We have not been discovered, but there is no point in staying. We have fed, but there is nowhere else to go. It is cold here, and the world below has been ravaged by fire. The Queen is still hungry, and she despairs for the future. We despair for the future.

We have no future. We must sleep.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

I gasped as I came to. I understood. This was Equestria, a sprawling paradise turned into the desolate miles of dirt and ruins before me by a war, and I was a Changeling, of the Changeling Empire. We fed off of love, but had been unable to find enough in Equestria, or anywhere else in the world, and so had been slowly dying off until... something. Well, it certainly helped to have some mental context for my life, but I could not recall experiencing any of that, and I still did not know how I had gotten here, or what had happened to the Empire since the war had ended—

Odd, I was sure it had ended, but how could I know? I tried to remember something else, anything else, but nothing came. I had notions and certainties, but no memories. I let out a hiss, frustrated. Thinking was getting me no further.

I picked myself up from where I had fainted and kept walking forward, in the direction of the distant sea.

* * * * *

Hunger gnawed at me, however I had no choice but to continue on. There was no sound except the wind and my hoofsteps, until I heard a sniffle. It came from my right, behind a patch of bramble next to a dried creek bed. I crept cautiously toward it, and as I approached the sniffling turned into a muted sob. A teal filly was curled up in the weeds, and she hugged herself tightly as she cried red tears. Her face was peppered with bits of metal, and her eyes had been torn to shreds by whatever had caused the injury. A thick black collar was strapped around her neck.

I gasped, recoiling from the sight, and the filly yelped and tried to scrambled away from me. She only succeeded in getting herself more caught in the bramble.

“No! Please,” she wailed, “don’t hurt m-me. Please, I...” The small unicorn shielded her face weakly with a hoof, and continued to blubber incoherently.

“N-no. Hurt.” I said. My voice sounded strange to me, but I was too stunned to care. “I no hurt.” She continued to whimper and struggled against the dusty vines.

I looked around the area, wondering what could have caused this, but a second shriek from the filly and another pang of hunger urged me to do something. This filly was potential prey, I supposed, but the sight of her pain gave me a horrible feeling in my gut. I leaned forward and began untangling her. I pulled and snapped the vines from her limbs, and she staggered onto her hooves. She took a few shaky steps forward, and her breathing steadied. “I no hurt.” I repeated.

She turned back to me, trying to look in my direction though her eyes were mutilated.

“Y-you don’t want t’ hurt me?” The ghost of a smile crept onto her face. Blood oozed from her eye sockets.

“No. I don’t want to hurt you.” My voice was raspy and held the undertone of a buzz, but I as I spoke I felt an echo of her gratitude in my mind. That feeling fed me, and though it was a drop of water on a raging inferno I breathed a sigh of relief. This was a start. If I continued to help her, she would feed me more.

“How—how you hurt?” I asked. It was hard to speak correctly. I had only foggy memories and this foal to learn from, and my mind was still racing with shock.

“I was... runnin’ away. We were runnin’ away. Me and momma.” She gasped and stood up, whirling around, still trying to see. “Where’s momma? Momma?” She stumbled toward the creek bed, panicking. As she moved bits of eye were tossed from her sockets and splattered onto the ground. “Momma where are you?” she cried, “Momma!?” I opened my mouth to try and calm her.

Then she exploded.

I flinched away from the bright flash and roaring noise, and screamed as little claws of pain sunk into my side. I twisted to see what was hurting, and saw that my hide had been pierced by shrapnel, just like the filly’s face. I quickly picked out the pieces and then looked back to where she had been. Her torso was slumped on the ground near a blackened patch of ground, and the front half of her head had flown back into the bramble. Bits of gore spilled out onto the ground. The rest of her had been incinerated. I gagged at the smell of cooked pony, and tore myself away from the sight.

I had no time to wonder or be shocked. An angry shout emanated from behind me, and I dove down into the creek bed, hoping it was enough cover to keep me concealed.

“Where the hell is she?” the voice shouted. I heard hoofsteps approach.

“Boss, I told you, she’s probably still hidin’ back in the swamp,” said a second voice, “We’re wastin’ ti—” He gasped, and the hoofsteps stopped. “Ah fuckin’ shit...”

I dared to peek up from my feeble hiding spot. There were three ponies around the filly’s remains. The one closest to me seemed to be the one who had spoken last. He turned green and looked away as the unicorn in the middle wheeled around to the one on his right.

“Why the fuck did you push her button?” he bellowed.

“Mah hoof slipped. But she weren’t good no more anyway,” the stallion spat back, “you saw how fucked up her face was.”

“That was nothing a few heals couldn’t cure, you dumbass!” He levitated a thick metal implement out of a saddlebag and pointed it at his companion. The buck’s eyes widened.

“B-boss, what’re you doin’?” He took a shaky step back, but ‘Boss’ shoved the thing—it looked like two fat sticks stuck together on top of a handle—closer to him. I squinted. I knew there a word for what Boss was wielding, but I couldn’t think of it.

“I’m showing you how fucked up a face can get when you don’t listen to your superiors.” His horn flashed, and a loud bang sounded. I flinched down, but kept watching. The buck slunk to the ground behind Boss, his face now a gory red hole, and the unicorn put his weapon back in his saddle. Gun. That was the word I had been looking for. I shuddered.

“Holster. Grab his shit and let’s go,” Boss said to the remaining stallion before turning back toward the swamp. He wore tattered robes that hid his body, and they fluttered in breeze as he walked. Holster, now recovered from his nausea, nodded and trotted over to the dead buck. He rummaged through his bags, taking most of his stuff, and then followed Boss, muttering something about a ‘freaking idiot.’ I waited until they were out of sight before I crept out of the creek.

I stood on the blackened ground for a few moments, looking between the dead filly and stallion. I was stunned. Some part of me knew that such brutality had never existed between ponies, even during the pinnacle of their war effort.

I felt numb, so when a growl from my stomach reminded me that I still needed to find sustenance—love or food, I would take anything right now—I marched off to follow Boss and Holster without a second thought. I let the horror slip to the back of my mind as I tried to think of a way to manipulate either of them.

I could not come up with anything, though. I had no idea what was going on here.

* * * * *

I caught up to the two as they came to the beginning of the swamp. The ground was damp here, and there were enough trees still growing around pools of muddy water to block out the horizon. As we continued farther into the swamp tree growth became more consistent, and the pools got bigger and less mud-filled. Reeds grew in some, but they were colored a sickly looking mix of red and yellow, rather than their natural dark green. The water they grew in glowed vomit yellow. Boss and Holster made a point to give those pools a wide berth. I did too.

Finally, we came upon what must have been their convoy. Four earth ponies sat on the side of a worn road near a beat up looking carriage. Each had a gun either in their mouths or, in one case, mounted on the sides of a saddle. They watched over a circle of a dozen more ponies, all of whom had those black collars around their necks, just like the filly. There was a scorch mark near the carriage, along with traces of drying blood. I glanced again at the ponies with the collars, and saw that some were injured—black eyes and bruised limbs—most were grimy, and all looked very afraid of the ponies with guns. I had a bad feeling about this.

I hid behind a large tree stump, being careful not to crack any dead branches, as the mare with the saddle guns—gun saddle?—trotted over to greet Boss.

“Where’s Biscuit?” she asked.

“That idiot pushed the filly’s button right before we caught up with her,” he replied, “so I shot him in the face.” The mare cackled, and Holster flinched.

“About time we got rid a’ that suckbag. I told you he was no good, Boss.” She grinned at him, but the burgundy stallion just huffed and trotted over to the charred patch of ground. The collared ponies watched him with wide eyes. He stood there for a moment before turning to his crew, seeming to have made his mind up about something.

“Get these slaves back into line and let’s keep going,” he commanded, “Tumbleweed and Hairpins, you two guard the back, Holster, pull the carriage, and everyone else spread yourselves out. I’ll take top guard. We got a lotta ground to cover, and I don’t want to deal with anymore bullshit today.”

He trotted up to the carriage as his band moved to carry out his orders and jumped onto its top. I pressed myself closer to the stump as he scanned the area from his vantage point. My eyes widened as he squinted in my direction anyway. I started to panic. Had he seen me? What would I do? I did not have anywhere to run to. Would he enslave me? An even more terrifying thought struck me. Would he kill me? I was their natural enemy, after all.

They killed us where they found us.

“We’re all good here, Boss!” I was saved by the shout from his right. It was the mare he had spoken to earlier: Hairpins.

“Good,” he replied. He broke his stare and looked down at something on his foreleg. I could not tell what it was, but he frowned at it and levitated his gun to his side.

“See anything, Boss?” one of the ponies below him asked.

“No,” he replied. “Let’s get going, Holster.”

“Sure thing, Boss.” The dark blue buck began pulling the carriage, and the caravan rolled on down the road. I slunk after them, keeping myself low and close to the trees as I thought over what I had heard.

Slaves? Exploding collars? Ponies killing ponies without a second thought? What had happened to Equestria?

I found myself falling behind as I tried to stay hidden. The trees were already starting to thin out again and Boss, as far as I could tell, was keeping a watchful eye on everything. If I moved at the wrong moment he would spot me easily from where he sat. They were now far enough away that couldn’t make out their chatter. I growled in frustration. If I couldn’t keep up with them I wouldn’t be able to—to...

To what? Feed.

I stopped as I realized I did not have a plan. I had not even been trying to form one, really. I had been acting on instinct: stalk your prey. Observe them. Then strike. But I did not have time for that. I needed food now. My body was weak and achy. I had enough magic in me to disguise myself, but I knew no other spells. I contemplated taking the place of one of the slave-holding ponies—Slave masters? Enslavers?—but there was no way to separate one from the rest of the group. Besides, I hadn’t had enough time to watch them.

Some ponies believe it is our magic that allows Changelings to so perfectly mimic them, but a disguise only does so much. It is our power of observation that makes us such pristine infiltrators. Give us a minute, and we know their speech; give us an hour, and we know their every twitch and tick; give us a day, and we know their habits and moods; and by the end of a week we have ensnared their lover!

The words of the Queen swept into my mind. Unfortunately, I knew, they were a bit of an exaggeration, especially now that I was alone and starving.

I dashed from my cover to a particularly gnarled tree when Boss’s head was turned, and made up for some of the distance I had lost to the slave convoy. I was close enough to hear some of the non-slave ponies talking again.

“...’s been gettin’ real paranoid lately. I don’t like it,” the grey buck said to his companion. Tumbleweed. That’s what Boss had called him. He sounded nervous.

“C’n ya’ blame him?” Hairpins asked in reply. She walked with a much more relaxed gait then her companion. The guns at her sides made the one that Tumbleweed had holstered look puny. “Raiders... those damn NCs are crawlin’ all over th’ place nowadays, what with that whole weddin’ thing... and heck, half th’ bay hates his guts!” She laughed. “Besides, Biscuit was a lazy good fer nothin’. Like I said, Boss shoulda got rid a’ him a long time ago. He’s actin’ like anypony would under these circumstances.”

“I know, but, killin’ him? Just like that? That’s brutal.” He stole a glance at the unicorn up on the carriage top. “And I feel like he’s gettin’ us into some sorta raider shit.” Hairpins balked at the comment.

“Tumble!” she scolded, “A few dirty jobs is nothin’ close to what those crazy fuckers do. I don’t know how you could say somethin’ like that after all we been through t’gether.”

“Right. Sorry,” he grumbled, “I just never expected I’d end up as a slaver.”

Ah. Slaver. I’d been close.

“Well if ya’ don’t like it, ya’ c’n leave,” the dusty orange mare said in a huff, “Nopony’s forcin’ you t’ participate. Unlike these poor bastards.” She motioned to the pair of slaves in front of her and chuckled. One of them glared back at her, but she just laughed harder. “Oh don’t you be blamin’ yer bad luck on me, boy. Red Eye pays top dollar fer folks like you. Nothin’ personal. Besides, I hear he’s got a pretty swanky place up there anyhow.” He looked away from her, his head drooping in resignation.

“I’ve heard the stories,” he said, “that fucker work ponies to death.”

“Oh, er...” Hairpins sounded lost for a moment. “Well, at least it’s better than gettin’ caught by raiders. Or sacrificed by stripes. Or dyin’ a’ radiation. Or taint. Or bein’ eaten by a manticore. Or a Taintigator—”

A roar sounded from the other side of the road, and everypony’s head swung toward it. I stood as still as I could behind the tree and watched them nervously. What had—?

Dear Chrysalis what is that thing?

I gaped in horror as a huge beast leaped out from a pool of shimmering water. It looked like an alligator, but it was massive and bloated. Its scales were the color of rust and dead skin. It’s eyes—all three of them—were yellow and watery. It also had an extra two pairs of feet.

I flattened myself to the ground and quivered in fear as it lashed out at Hairpins.

“Aw curse my tongue—Taintigator!” she shouted. The mare ducked its jagged claws while Tumbleweed jumped back and immediately opened fire on the creature. Most of his bullets ricocheted harmlessly off its hide, and the monster batted him aside with another swipe that sent him flying. There was a sickening crunch as he hit the tree I hid behind and slid to the ground, unmoving. He was only three feet in front of me.

“Dammit! Keep an eye on those slaves!” Boss shouted. I heard the sound of more gunshots, but my vision was locked on the still form of Tumbleweed. Here was my chance. I glanced up. Hairpins strafed the Taintigator while Boss and a cherry colored mare focused their fire into its face. The others were busy keeping the slaves in order. Nopony was looking this way.

I smiled, grabbed Tumbleweed’s tail with my mouth, and dragged him out of sight. A thrill rushed through me, and I shook with excitement as I stripped him. As quickly as I could, I put on his armor—it was not nearly as covering as what those pegasi had worn—and his saddlebags and strapped his gun holster around my foreleg. I was about half his size, so the clothes felt loose on my body. That would not be a problem for very long.

I worked on instinct. I took a deep breath to steady myself, thought of what Tumbleweed and his Cutie Mark looked like, and then focused what little magical power I had through my horn and out over my body. There was a flash of green, and just like that I was Tumbleweed. I was taller; stockier; I had hooves instead of holey feet; a dirty golden mane instead of black leathery spines; tired round eyes instead of blue crescents. I had also lost my wings and horn, but they had not been of much use in the first place. I glanced back at my flank and smiled when I saw a picture of a potato there. I was a perfect copy of the unconscious stallion next to me. Now came the hard part.

I stepped out from the treeline, and picked up ‘my’ gun from where it had fallen. I held it in my mouth, and glanced at one of the other fighting earth ponies to see how it worked. Clench it in your jaws. Pull the trigger with your tongue. Simple enough and... oddly familiar. Had I used one before?

Only when—

There was no time to wonder. I pointed it at one of the Taintigator’s eyes, and fired. I flinched from the kickback, but I got lucky with the... thing I shot. Bullet. It lodged itself deep into one of the monster’s eyeballs, and it howled in pain. I smiled triumphantly, but then the Taintigator turned to see who had maimed it. I pulled the trigger in panic as it lumbered toward me.

Click!

What? I frowned in confusion, and pulled the trigger again.

Click!

I looked down my snout at the gun, and my eyes widened as I realized I was out of bullets. A shadow passed over me. I looked up. The Taintigator’s maw opened above me, full of jagged yellow teeth and dripping with white froth. I dropped my gun in terror, and scrambled backwards, but the beast was too close already. Not five seconds after my first disguise and I was about to be eaten alive.

How pathetic.

Suddenly, Boss darted in front of the creature’s gaping mouth and did... something. I blinked in confusion as his gun moved faster than I could keep track of, and then the roof of the Taintigator’s mouth exploded as four shots slammed into it in rapid succession. The beast recoiled and gave a dying wail as more fire was poured into its bloodied head. It collapsed on the roadside, and a final gurgle escaped its throat along with some bloody brains.

I panted in the silence that followed, and Boss gave me an odd look as I picked up my gun and fumbled around with it, trying to reload.

“Well,” said Hairpins, once again providing a much needed distraction, “at least nopony died that time.” Boss rolled his eyes—they were bloodshot and baggy—at her, and hopped back onto the carriage top.

“Let’s go. I hate this place,” he said. He didn’t suspect a thing. Excellent.

I trotted up to Hairpins’ side, and we set off at a quicker pace than before. I looked back over my shoulder to check on the real Tumbleweed, and smiled to myself.

“What is it Tumble?” Hairpins asked me, “Ya’ see somethin’?”

“Nope,” I replied. “I don’t see a thing.”

Success.

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: You Look Familiar... - All modifications to Speech skill are doubled when Disguised.

Chapter 2: Slavers

“What goes around comes around.”

Feed.

As we exited the swamp I rummaged through Tumble’s saddlebags to see what he’d had. There were more bullets. Ammunition. Three vials of purple fluid. Healing potions. Packets of ‘Rad-Away.’ Protection from the bad air. There were also two bottles of ‘Sparkle-Cola,’ a sack full of bottle caps, hunks of dried meat—ponies eat meat now?—and one small burgundy apple. I scarfed down the apple and some of the meat before taking a swig from the Sparkle-Cola. Carroty. I downed the rest of it and tossed the bottle aside. That felt good.

I wasn’t full, but at least I was no longer running on empty. I breathed a sigh of relief and Fishhooks, the red mare, gave me an odd look, but none of the others seemed to care about my sudden binge, least of all the slaves. Most of them marched with their heads bowed to the ground, and one had been crying since the taintigator attack. I pitied them, but there wasn’t much I could have done.

The path we traveled on might once have been a road, but now it was nothing more than a dry indent worn into the ground over the years by hundreds of hooffalls. Around us were the remains of farmland. Empty acres of flat dirt with a few buildings and defunct machines scattered throughout. Where orchards had once been there remained only decayed stumps and a few burnt skeletons. Pipes that had irrigated crops were corroded away or rusted over. I had overheard Fishhooks call this place the Wasteland. I could see why.

“...an’ then he tried to grope me, that drunk fucker, so I shot ‘im in the gut,” Hairpins concluded. She hadn’t stopped talking since the fight with the taintigator. This seemed to be her normal shtick, and her friends ignored her for the most part. “Though fer some reason they ran me outta town after that.”

“That’s because he was their mayor, Pins," Fishhooks said.

“Yeah, well, a pervert like that don’t deserve t’ be mayor.” She snorted. “He should be glad I was in a good mood an’ didn’t kill him flat out. Now, if he’d a tried to pull that shit on me a day earlier, I wouldda blasted him back t' Celestial. Ya’ see, I’d just gotten outta a tight spot way up near the Crystal Caves...”

I tuned her out as best I could. I hadn’t learned much from her ramblings—mostly gossip and anecdotes—but it had given me time to think. Right now I needed to find someplace with love, or at the very least a good feeling or two. I doubted I would find much positive emotion in this slave caravan. There must be somewhere else I could go. Hairpins had mentioned many places so far: Manehattan, Hoofington, Baltimare; but names helped me little when I had no idea where they were or how to get to them. I couldn’t risk just asking about them, though. For all I knew Tumbleweed was just as traveled as she was.

“...nothin’ but rocks! C’n ya’ believe that? I wasted seventeen clips a' ammunition fer two dead bucks an’ some useless dumb rocks!” Hairpins nickered angrily. “Nearly froze t’ death on th’ way back, too. Whoa nelly!”

In front of us one of the slaves collapsed, and our caravan stopped as Fishooks trotted over to him. The rest of the slavers kept their guns trained on their captives as the mare looked him over. I took out my gun as well, but my attention was more on the injured slave. He was short of breath and frailer than any of the others. Thinking back, I remembered seeing him stumble a few times before, but I had not thought much of it.

“Exhaustion,” Fishhooks stated, looking up at Boss, “Got any more of that Booster?”

“Yeah.” Above her, Boss shuffled through his saddlebags and levitated out a faded pink tube with a hole in the bottom and a button on top. “Only one puff left, though.” He dropped it down and Fishhooks snatched it out of the air with a hoof, pressing the open end to the collapsed buck’s snout. He tried to move his head away, but she forced him to hold still as she pressed the inhaler to his mouth. There was a small hiss of air and, before I could wonder what ‘Booster’ was, the buck jerked sharply and he jumped back up. He glanced at me, blinking rapidly, and I saw that his eyes were watery and unfocused. Fishhooks shoved him back in line and we continued on.

I was left confused as to what just happened, so I watched the stallion carefully. He shook as he walked, and once or twice it looked like he might trip, but it seemed that the Booster had restored his strength somehow. That seemed quite useful, but... the way that stallion had looked at me, or rather, NOT looked at me—a blank stare, like his mind was in a different place or gone entirely—was unnerving.

Hairpins continued her ramblings, but an uncomfortable silence had fallen over the slaves, and it seemed almost like they were avoiding stepping too close to that stallion. That bad feeling I’d had when I first saw this convoy grew stronger. I was beginning to question whether ‘joining’ them had been a good idea.

* * * * *

There was a town in the distance. Not a town of buildings, but the remains of a massive food processing plant that had been turned into a shelter. The facility looked like it had been hit with the sun. Its roof had melted, caving inward and splitting the building down the middle like a ribcage pried open. What was left of the top floor was nothing more than a few rooms filled with heaps of rusted slag. The remaining half of a pockmarked sign was propped up against the right side of the building, shouting “CHARD” to the world with the words ‘Welcome to’ spraypainted above it.

I smiled, but no one else seemed happy to see the place. Hairpins tensed, growing quiet, and the other ponies drew their weapons as we drew close. I gripped my pistol in my mouth, wondering what was wrong. Then I saw it. A stampeding group of ponies kicked up a cloud of dust as they rounded the corner of Chard. The armor they wore was covered in spikes, and their coats were stained with dried blood. They circled the town like a group of sharks, cackling and hooting as they fired potshots into the city. Several ponies tried to return fire, but their assailants had them pinned.

“Raiders,” Boss cursed. The name seemed appropriate.

Our little convoy had halted as soon as we saw the raiders, but by now they had seen us. One let out a squeal of glee as they charged us, firing their weapons haphazardly. They missed all of us by a wide margin, and we returned fire. I missed all but one of my shots, while the others managed to take down almost half of them. Damn. I would have to get better at this aiming thing if I wanted to blend in out here. Unfortunately, that still left seven angry ponies two seconds from slamming into us, and judging by the look in the eyes of the slave pony closest to me, we could only get more outnumbered.

I got ready to flee, but Boss leaped down in front of the oncoming pack, his horn surrounded by a purple aura, building magical energy. The raiders took aim, but he unleashed his spell before they could fire. They were engulfed in a purple flash, and I watched in relief and confusion as every last one of them somehow flipped over and began falling upwards. I gawked at them as they tumbled through the air, kicking and screaming and cursing until they disappeared into the clouds above. What kind of spell was that?

Hairpins whistled in the stunned silence that followed. “Still blows my mind everytime I see it.”

“Er, thanks,” the unicorn replied. His voice was strained. I looked back down and saw that he was leaning against the carriage, breathing hard with sweat on his brow. Fishhooks trotted to his side with a concerned look and whispered something to him, but he shook his head in response. That spell might have been powerful, but it had taken its toll on him.

“Now everypony get ready t’ dodge...” I heard Hairpins say.

Dodge what? I glanced at her, and then looked back up to see what she was staring at. Oh. Right.

The raiders were on their way back down.

I had only a second to scurry away from where I was standing before the caravan was hit by a rain of pony bodies. They smacked into the ground with sickening CRUNCH sounds, and everypony in our caravan scrambled to get out of the way. One of the slaves tried to take advantage of the commotion and made a break for it. It was the one who had needed the Booster. I tried to stop him, but I was too slow and he raced by me, his eyes full of fear and desperation. A second followed, but I tackled her to the ground.

“No! Get off me you fucker!” She kicked and squirmed, and it took all my less-than-abundant strength to keep her pinned. She bashed her head into my jaw, and I hissed in pain between clenched teeth. I tasted blood. Enraged, I bit her mane and forced her head back down into the ground. Now Hairpins was at my side, yelling something I couldn’t hear because I was too focused on keeping this mare from getting back up. Then—

Boom!

—the sound of another collar exploding made me freeze. The mare underneath me stopped struggling. I looked up to see the decapitated body of the slave who had slipped past me sprawled in the distance with his entrails hanging out. The mare broke down into a fit of sobbing, and I lifted myself off of her. Hairpins and a stallion whose name I hadn’t caught forced her up and shoved her back in line with the rest of the slaves. My heart pounded in my ears as my adrenaline rush subsided.

“We probably couldda gotten him back... Boss,” Fishhooks muttered.

“Not worth the trouble,” he replied. And that was all that was said.

I felt a sinking sensation as I took in what had just happened, like I was stuck in mud. So much death in so little time, and I seemed to be the only once shocked by it. Was this the norm for Equestria now? Could love still exist in a place like this? I looked over at Boss. He had already gotten to looting the raider bodies, just like a few others were doing. One raider had fallen near me, so I stooped down to check his saddlebags; even though I was on the verge of a panic attack I had act like this was normal. I frowned as I got a better look at the dead raider. His hide had been burnt off in several places, and he reeked of cooked meat.

“H-how did that happen?” I wondered aloud.

“How’d what happen?” asked Hairpins.

“The, um, burn marks. How’d they get there?”

“Oh, that’s just ‘cause a’ th’ lightning rods th’ pegasi got up there. T’ keep anything from gettin’ in.” She motioned to the clouds above. “Terrible way t’ die, gettin’ electrocuted... at least these fuckers deserved it. Haha!”

Smiling, she trotted off to loot another corpse, and I was left with more questions. Lightning rods? Pegasi again? And were raiders really that bad? Sure, they’d attacked at town, but at least they weren’t enslaving ponies and strapping bombs to their necks. What could be worse than that?

I shook my head in exasperation and rifled through the raider’s bag. He had a health potion, more packets of Rad-Away, a pair of cruel-looking knives, another gun—this one long and heavy—ammunition, and lots more bottle caps. Why so many bottle caps? I didn't know why ponies would horde what was basically garbage, but I stuffed them into my pouch with the rest of them. When in Roam. I sorted the rest of the loot into my saddlebags, and strapped the long gun to my back like the raider had worn it. I had no idea how I was supposed to use the thing without magic but I kept it anyway. I could give it to Boss if we ever go into a tight spot or something.

The knives, on the other hoof, I would definitely be keeping. They were identical in make—a jagged semi-circular blade with a wide mouth-grip—but one looked more worn in that it was covered in dried blood. I put them near the top of all my things so I could reach them easily. I couldn’t aim for all the love in a mother’s kiss, but I knew how to stab things.

* * * * *

Holster, Fishhooks, and I stepped through the gates of Chard and were met by the smell of rusting metal and mildew. The slanted space between the town’s entrance and where its buildings started had turned into a stagnant pool, and water sloshed around our feet as we made our way forward. This place had had no windows, so what dull light was able to penetrate the cloud cover died long before hitting the town’s back walls. The machines that had once run here had been dismantled and, with the addition of lots of scrap metal, turned into makeshift buildings for the ponies who now lived here. The sound of dripping echoed through the air.

“Why do ponies even live in this place?” Fishhooks muttered as we made our way past a freezer-turned-outhouse. I was surprised the reek wasn’t stronger.

“Any shelter’s better than none, I guess,” Holster replied. As he spoke a turquoise buck trotted out of the walk-in refrigerator and gave us a dirty look. “Though it’d be best if we get what we need and skedaddle.” Boss had sent us in to get supplies while the rest of the caravan waited outside. Apparently the ponies of Chard did not take kindly to slavers.

There is hope yet.

We stopped in front of the largest of the metal structures. A sign was bolted to its top: Hop’s Trough. The building faced the town’s entrance with sad-eyed holes for windows and a door that had been welded together from so many different scraps it looked like a quilted spider’s web. I saw why it needed so much repairing when a drunken purple mare with a turnip Cutie Mark slammed it open and staggered out onto the muddy street. A tall silver stallion with a copper mustache emerged after, glaring at her. A rag hung around his neck, and as the mare wandered away he turned to our group. He took us in, his glare intensifing, and then slammed the door shut again before any of us could react. I frowned at that. Why had he—? I glanced at the wall by the door and got my answer. A faded poster hung there.

WANTED:

All Slavers, Raiders, and Propagators thereof.

Reward per Proven Pony: 100 Caps.

Notorious Perpetrators: 500 Caps.

Bring all Accused and all Pertinent Evidence before Iron Mallet,

High Justice of New Canterlot

I suddenly felt very cold. We were wanted? I’m not sure what else I expected to happen to ponies doing such horrible things, but it hadn’t occurred to me that we might be actively hunted—and we’d just waltzed right into the middle of a town! My eyes widened, and I looked around frantically. However, no pony around seemed particularly interested in us aside from that one dirty look. Beside me Holster scoffed.

“Another of these posters?” he asked, “Heh! As if anypony would want to drag anypony else that far for just that much. I swear, damn NCs put these out just to make themselves feel important. ‘Rock of the Wasteland’ my ass...” Fishhooks giggled, and I calmed a little at his words. He knew more than I did about this. If he wasn’t worried about a bounty on his head, I shouldn’t be either. At least now I knew who the ‘NCs’ were.

“We should probably split up,” Fishhooks suddenly declared.

“What?” I blinked and cleaned my ear with a hooftip to make sure I’d heard her right.

“I’ll see if anypony’s selling food,” she continued. Apparently I hadn’t spoken loud enough. “You two get gun parts and whatever else we need, and we’ll meet up back here.” She pointed to the ground we stood on. “Oh, and we need to re-stock on Buck and Dash.”

“I’ll get the weapons,” Holster said before I could interrupt to point out how bad of an idea this was, “you get the drugs.” He nodded in my direction, smiling at a joke I didn’t get.

“But, um, uh...” I wanted to stay in a group. I wanted to say how much safer that would make us, but I found myself at a loss for words. They were giving me confused looks. “I’ll... go do that,” I said hurriedly. I gave them an awkward smile and trotted off down a side-street, hoping I was going the right way and that Holster’s confidence was well founded. But most of all I hoped that I hadn’t given them any reason to suspect me. Apparently I was supposed to know how and where to get these ‘drugs.’ Bad medicine. Maybe that’s what the ‘Booster’ had been? Yes. For some reason I had an urge to roll my eyes.

* * * * *

I wandered around the town, trying to look like I knew what I was doing. This place was a maze. The streets snaked around clumps of metal shacks, and walls rose randomly to block my path. A few times I had to duck through pitch-black hallways just to get by piles of debris nopony had bothered to clear away. I got a few odd looks from ponies I passed, though I wasn’t sure why. Did slavers have a look about them? I picked up my pace a bit. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. I needed to find some other pony to impersonate. Someone... better. Not from here, though; not now. I still needed to get an understanding of this Wasteland I had found myself in.

Finally, I stumbled upon what looked like a marketplace; ponies sat in several stalls on either side of a large clearing, hawking their wares. Now... what was it I needed again? Oh, right. Dash and Buck. I had no idea what those were, exactly, but at least I knew what to ask for.

“Dash? Nope, ain’t never had none o’ that. I got some damn fine helmets, though. Just got ‘em straight from Bulb! Got a top armorist up there, they do. You want one? Only a hundred caps!”

“Buck? Only buck I’ve got is one t’ feed, so unless yer interested in magic tomes ah’d kindly ask ya’ t’ stop wasting mah precious time.”

“Drugs? Hell no. I only deal in healing potions and protection talismans. Feed your habit elsewhere.”

I was almost at the back of the facility when I found what I was looking for.

Berry Wares:

For all your medicinal needs!

The sign was painted white, with a winking purple mare leaning over the word ‘Wares.’ She clasped a bottle in her left hoof, and was holding it out suggestively toward the viewer. The sign hung over a stall, painted with the same shade of purple, but pink Xs criss-crossed the whole of it. The design was faded but still managed to stand out from the drab colors around it. It also helped that it was the only ‘building’ I’d seen so far with any sort of lighting. A single bulb hung from the ceiling—which was also the underside of a half-melted second floor—powered by a small generator on the ground. A bored-looking buck with yellow hair sat in the spotlight, and he glanced up at me as I trotted over.

I noticed a small sign propped up on the table. “Wasteland Survival Guides sold here!” it read. My eyebrows shot up at that, and the vendor noticed. He immediately perked up, grinning at me.

“Howdy, stranger. Y’all interested in a Survival Guide?” he asked.

“Oh yes. How much?” I replied a bit too earnestly, but I was lost and confused in this new world, how could I refuse an entire book full of information about it? This would get me much farther ahead in life.

“Three hundred caps.” He said with finality.

“Three hundred?” Of course, right now I was still pretty far behind everyone else. By now I’d figured out what ponies used all these bottle caps for, but I had no idea if that was a fair price. “I don’t think I have that much on me.” Plus, I still needed to get those drugs.

“Hmm...” The vendor tapped a hoof against his chin, still smiling. “Well, I s’ppose I could take that there rifle off yer hands instead.” He motioned to the gun on my back. “If you don’t mind tradin’ firepower fer a bit o’ knowledge, that is.”

“Deal.” I didn’t hesitate. The ‘rifle’ wasn’t much use to me now anyway. I unstrapped the gun from my back and gave it to him. He took it eagerly, and handed me a grey tome with a black skull below the title. That seemed like a pretty misleading cover for something designed to help you. I resisted the urge to sit down and read through it right then and there, and put it in my saddlebags.

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya’,” the vendor drawled, “anything else ah c’n help ya’ with?” He seemed a little too happy now, and I realized I had probably gotten ripped off. Oh well. Losing one gun wasn’t that big of a deal. I could always get more if I needed them.

“Yes," I replied, “I need some drugs.”

“Drugs? Well, ya’ come to the right place fer that, mah friend, medicine’s our specialty. Whaddaya need?”

“Buck and Dash,” I said.

“30 caps a pop. How many?”

“Uh, as much as this will get me.” I took out the sack of bottle caps and plopped it down in front of him, carefully watching his expression. He didn’t seem particularly impressed as he counted out all the caps and sorted them into small stacks. I stopped him when he got to twelve piles; apparently I was richer than I had supposed. The brown buck scooped up the caps and ducked back into the depths of the small shop, emerging with a small clear bag in his mouth. On it I saw the same mare from the sign, only this time she had been printed over a stylised “BW,” instead of the full name. It looked worn and dirtied, but inside I could see what was, presumably, the Buck and Dash: bright orange pills and faded blue inhalers, similar to the Booster Fishhooks had used.

I packed the baggy away, and then turned to leave.

“Oh, by the by,” the vender added, “them bags’s worth a five cap discount if ya’ bring ‘em back here or t’ any o’ our other locations.”

“Locations?” I looked back to him, curious. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

“Sure, we got Berry Wears all over th’ Fields. I hear we’re settin’ up along th’ coast, even.”

“The... Fields?” He gave me an amused look.

“Shoot, you really ain’t from around here, are ya’? What’d ya’ just get out of a Stable er somethin’?”

“Uh, no I, um... uh—” Again I found myself tongue tied.

The buck just laughed at me before disappearing back into his store. I turned back around, feeling mocked and a bit put off, and trotted in the general direction of Hop’s Trough. What the heck did he mean by ‘Stable’? Too many questions. I felt the Survival Guide calling from my saddlebags, and wondered if I had time to read it before we set off again.

My thoughts were interrupted, however, when I noticed a stallion who had been staring at me from the edge of the marketplace. He wore an oversized hat on his head, with a pair of badly taped-up glasses sitting on his nose. Their frames were empty, and he averted his eyes the moment mine met them, but that only made him more suspicious. I glanced at his cutie mark—a firefly—as I turned down the street I’d come from, and recognized him. He was that pony who’d glared at us when we’d first entered the town. Or maybe he’d glared just at me? I realized now that he had been trying to mask his appearance with those clothes. Emphasis on trying. That’s just cute, hee, hee. I laughed, but then I grew worried. If he was trying to disguise himself that meant that Tumbleweed should have recognized him... but of course I did not. Why would he follow me? Did I have something he wanted? What would you stalk a slaver for?

The WANTED sign flashed through my mind, and I ducked into another dark hallway that looked like it might be a shortcut. The ceiling was fully intact here, and when I was halfway through it was pitch black except for a small crack of light ahead. The dark did not bother me, but the strobe that suddenly blazed to life in front of my face was another matter entirely. I stumbled back, blinded, and shielded my eyes with a hoof. What was making that light?

“Finally gotcha.” I heard a voice. Then something hit me in the chest, hard, and knocked me to the ground. I gasped for breath as my vision finally faded from red to the sight of metal. “You finally ready to pay up, Tumbleweed?”

I looked up at what—no, who—had pushed me down. It was the same stallion, his disguise discarded. The ball of light that had blinded me sat atop his head, pulsing like a beating heart. It obscured all his features, and made the hallway look eerily bleached. A gun like the one Boss had floated at his side. It was aimed at me.

“W-what are you talking about?” I tried to get back up, but he pressed a hoof into my chest and forced me against the ground.

“Don’t play dumb with me, dumbfuck,” he snapped. Now the gun was pressed to my forehead. I felt my heart pound in my ears as he continued on. “You don’t steal from Garlic and get away with it. Now, are you gunna pay us back or are we gunna have to chain you up and work you half to death? Or maybe I should drag your ass up to those bastards in New Canterlot? You know I’d love to see another Celestia-dammed slaver at the end of a noose.”

“I don—” I gasped for air as he pressed down harder.

“‘Course, I could just kill you now and save us all that trouble, but then we’d lose all that time and effort, and that’s just bad business. So what’s it gunna be, Tumblefuck?” He pressed the gun into my skull. It was so hard to breath. I tried to struggle with all my might but he was too strong. “You gunna pay up?” I tried to hit him, but I couldn’t reach anything sensitive. “Or am I gunna have to splatter your brains all over the ground?” I felt the cold metal of his gun push my head back, and I caught a devilish smile on his face. He was enjoying this. I choked out a sob as I realized that he had no intention of letting me ‘pay up.’ He wanted to kill me. He was going to kill me. I was going to die.

No!

I was going to die.

Fight!

Green magic flared over me and my pain was washed away along with the features of Tumbleweed. I shrunk back to my original size, causing the stallion above me to lose his balance and giving me enough room to roll onto my feet. A gunshot roared in my ear, and the world become a single sharp tone, but I felt no other pain. I was on all fours now. My attacker was still hidden behind his light, but I didn’t need to see details. I lunged at him, hurt and fear driving me forward

Run...

I saw his mouth move, but I could hear nothing. Then I was on him, knocking him over and wrapping my forelegs around his neck. Without a thought or pause I opened my mouth and sunk my fangs into his hide. I heard a muted cry of pain as my jaw closed around his neck. I felt skin split and vertebrae part between my teeth as I sunk them in. He had only a second to struggle before falling limp. The light on his horn flickered. I squeezed his neck tighter, and heard something crunch. The light began to fade, and I held him down until it died.

I let go, the foul taste of blood and hair in my mouth, and recoiled from his body. I was alone in utter darkness, all my tasks and plans forgotten. What had just happened? I had— I had...

Murder.

I had killed a pony. I had done it without a second thought. I shuddered. I hadn’t wanted to kill him, really, I had just wanted him to stop. I—

“I heard it come from other there!” The voice came from behind me. I re-disguised myself without thinking, and turned to see who had shouted. Two ponies, their features shrouded in the darkness, were coming this way.

“Di’ja see that? Who’s there!?”

Dammit. They had seen that burst of magic. I scampered away, down to the hallway’s other exit, but I had made too much noise.

“Hey! Get back here!” I broke into a gallop. Only a few more yards.

“Oh shit—Bright Lights? Oh shit oh shit—”

“You mother fucker!” I heard one gallop after me, and I emerged from the hallway into a neighborhood of metal huts. I recognized this place. I knew how to get back from here, but first—

I stepped behind one of the bigger shacks a moment before I heard my pursuer break into the open. He called out for me again, and I heard a few others tell him where I had gone. I fell to the ground just as he jumped into view.

“I’ll kill you fu—Boysenberry?” he came to a sudden halt.

I looked slowly up at him from where I lay, now disguised as the mare I had seen stumbling out of Hop’s Trough. “What?” I tried to slur the word, but wasn’t successful.

“Fucking—Boysen, did you see somepony run through here?”

“Uh, yeah.” I lifted a hoof and pointed to the only other way out from behind the hut. “He went that way.”

That doesn’t sound drunk at all.

He took off without another word, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I waited until I could no longer hear his hooffalls, and then trotted out from where I was hidden, re-donning my disguise as Tumbleweed. The few ponies milling about didn’t react to my presence, but as I walked anxiously toward the meeting place, I thought I could hear the echoes of somepony shouting.

By the time I slipped into the open space in front of the Trough that echo had grown into a reverberating chorus, and a mob was forming in front of the building. Holster and Fishhooks were already backing toward the exit, and as soon as they saw me making a break for the it they joined me in a sprint. It was only sheer luck that stayed the guard’s aims as we dashed out of the facility-turned-town. Boss had the caravan moving the moment he saw us, and Hairpins laid down covering fire as we sped away in an odd mirror to the earlier raider attack.

* * * * *

“What the hell happened back there?” Boss demanded. He glared down at me. I could feel the stares of everypony else around me, silently asking the same question.

“I...” I had killed a pony. I had almost been killed. My mind was reeling, but I couldn't allow myself to break down. I had to act the part. I had to be Tumbleweed. I couldn’t get caught now. I had nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. “I was attacked.”

“That all?” I blinked in surprise. That all? Were violent assaults in dark alleys that common?

“I-I killed him...” I hung my head.

“Well no shit,” he said, his voice full of sarcasm, “I mean is that all you did or did you also kill their mayor too? Because normally ponies don't form lynch mobs over one jackass getting what for when he picks a fight he can't handle."

"Well, I, um—"

"Ugh, nevermind.” He muttered in frustration, “You save an entire damn town from raiders and then they shoot at you ‘cuz of one fucking idiot. Bunch of fucking ingrates..." He sighed deeply, as if venting his frustration into the air, and we started off again. I slunk back to my spot beside Hairpins, feeling tense. I was still waiting for some sort of repercussion for my actions. None came, and Hairpins quickly resumed recounting her endless anecdotes.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t focus on her voice; the scene in that alley keep repeating in my mind. I could still feel Bright Light’s neck snapping between my jaws. I could still taste the blood in my mouth.

* * * * *

The dreary greyness that was the sky slowly grew dark, and now night was clawing its way into the horizon. Already it was impossible to make out anything in the distance but a single shadow off to the side of the road that turned out to be a house. It was constructed from wood held together with strips of metal that had been nailed all over it, giving it the appearance of having stripes. We approached the place cautiously, and, after Boss, his horn glowing softly, and a few others “checked it out,” we herded the exhausted slaves in, barricading them into a side room with the bottom half of a broken table and two chairs.

“I’ll take the first guard shift. I’ll wake you up in two or so,” Boss said to me. He set himself near the room holding the slaves, and I wandered off with the others to find a place to sleep.

The house was two stories, with the bottom floor consisting of three rooms: a central area that would have been divided in half had the wall in the middle not been knocked down, a bathroom that smelt of fermenting urine, and the bedroom we had stuffed the slaves into. I didn't bother to investigate the top floor, I was too tired. Instead, I curled up in a dark corner away from the rest of the ponies. They had sat down in a small circle, and though they probably thought my separation from them odd, I wanted to sleep alone.

By now it was almost completely dark, and a faint pitter-patter began to sound over the house. It grew into a steady muted chorus, and I was frightened by the sudden noise until I realized what it was. Rain.

As I drifted off, I started thinking about everything that had happened to me. I’d I’d had a rough first day of being alive. I’d watched three ponies die gruesomely. I’d seen a dozen more mowed down in seconds, and then I’d helped loot their bodies. I’d participated in slavery. I’d killed a pony. I shuddered, a black feeling twisting in my gut.

But worst of all I hadn’t found love, and I still had no idea where I could.

Outside, the rain picked up, turning from a distant murmur into a dull roar. The quiet darkness around me suddenly felt very comfortable. It reminded me of my egg: closed and warm, untouched by the world. I didn’t want to step outside and face the light of day anymore. I was scared of the ponies laying a few feet from me. I feared that when I next awoke a thousand terrible things would be at my side, waiting to engulf me. I hoped, no, prayed, that today’s travesties had been a fluke. Things couldn’t be this bad all the time, right? There was no way the Wasteland could sustain itself on such horror.

It was not weariness but another bout of dizziness that finally pushed me from silent panic into unconsciousness.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

I was running. Running as fast as I could move my legs, yet my feet made no sound on the pure white ground. The only sound I heard was my panting as I ran. I was running from someone, but I could not remember who. A shadow passed over me, and I looked up. The sun blinded me—

I sat on a cold steel floor. Bars in front of me. I couldn’t get past them, why did they bother with these chains? One of the guards swooped down in front of me. His eyes glowed bright; brighter, until—

I was falling. Down and down, careening toward the earth. Dodge. Dodge. Something whizzed by my ear. Something else cut through me, and me hind leg erupted into pain. I steered myself up, toward the mountain range in the distance. It grew closer. The wind scrapped at my wounds, and my vision blurred with tears. I squeezed my eyes shut—

Three bullets struck my left wing, shredding it, and I fell. I tried to slow myself, but I was in too much pain and too injured. I hit the side of the mountain hard, bouncing down and flailing my arms. I caught hold of something and slowed myself. Everything hurt. I lifted my head. Salvation greeted me; there was a cave only a few flaps away. Another bullet pinged off a boulder nearby. I tried to stand, but my hind legs did not respond. I dragged myself forward. Closer. Closer. Another bullet struck my shoulder, splintering with bone. The agony blinded me—

I had to sleep now.

Feed.

I had to die.

Feed.

I had to live.

Feed.

I had to—

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

“—get up.”

My eyes snapped open at the touch of a hoof to my side. My heart thumped rapidly in my chest. I saw Boss above me, the glow from his horn replaced with a lamp at his side. It shone a faint yellow, powered by a collection of tiny nodes that reminded me of the lightning bugs on Bright Light’s flank. How comforting.

“It’s your turn.” Boss said, mouthing me the lamp. He was unsteady on his feet, and the limited lighting made the shadows under his eyes somehow darker.

“O-okay.” I took the lamp from him and walked over to sit in front of the slave room on unsteady legs. What had that dream been? Another vision? The first one had been, if not very clear, at least useful. This one had been... different. A volley of images and sensations that I had no context for. Already I was having trouble remembering all of it. Feed. Those last desperate shouts I remembered clearly, though. They sent a chill down my spine.

I peered over the makeshift barricade into the room of sleeping slaves. Most were curled up together, presumably for warmth, and, although it had stopped raining by now, I noticed that a small pool of water had formed in one of the room’s corners. I also noticed the one slave who wasn’t asleep.

“You!” he whispered fiercely and hobbled over to me. I took an automatic step back. His coat was made a sickly yellow by the light of the lamp, and he gazed at me with a crazed, triumphant look. I met him with a glare, but he ignored it.

“I saw,” he rasped.

“W-what?” Did he mean—!?

“I saw what you did with Tumbleweed. I saw you drag him away. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not a pony, and you’re not Tumbleweed, and unless you bust us out right now, I’ll tell every one of your ‘friends’ about what you did to that fucker.”

Oh no. Oh no no no. This was bad. Terrible! This was the worst thing that could have happened! This—is the perfect opportunity, you dolt.

—what? Opportunity?

I couldn’t hide my panic from him, and he became more insistent. “Move the table,” he demanded, “let us out of here now, or else.”

“I—”

“Do it you idiot!” he hissed. I didn’t have much choice. If I was discovered now, Boss and company would tear me to shreds. Or just Boss, really.

As quietly as I could, I removed the table and chairs from the doorway, though they hadn’t been much of a barrier to begin with. Just something to make noise in case the slaves had decided to try and rush us. I finished, and both the buck and I glanced nervously back at the central room. The light from my lamp did not extend far, but none of the slavers looked like they had been awoken.

By now, a slave mare who must also have been awake had noticed what I was doing and was quietly rousing the others. A few made questioning noises, but she and the stallion, who was now standing threateningly next to me, shushed them before they could give us away. As the last few were being nudged awake, another pair of mares stepped toward us.

“A-are we really gettin’ out? I-is this for real?” I saw the hope in their eyes, and felt the edge of the gratitude they were directing toward the stallion who had coerced me. Then I got it.

This was the opportunity. I really was an idiot for not thinking of this earlier.

“Yes,” I said, sliding in front of the haggard buck before he could say anything more, “I’m busting all of you out.” I smiled as confidently as I could, and their faces lit up. I felt their hope bubble up into profound relief and happiness, and their gratitude washed over me. My smile grew genuine as I drank deeply from their emotions. I felt strength I didn’t know I’d lost slowly return to me. The rest quickly joined them from behind, and as I lead them forward their outpouring grew greater. We tip-toed around the rough circle of sleeping slavers—an easy feat, considering how much space this place had—and I held the door open as the small group swept past me. Oh, this was magnificent. Their excitement sent electricity through my veins.

However, I then noticed the yellow buck was not among us. Where had—? My eyes went wide when I saw what he was doing. He was leaning over the snoring form of Holster, his muzzle ruffling through the slaver’s saddlebag. What was he doing? He was going to get caught! I watched, tense, as he pulled something out and slowly crept back to us. Holster didn’t stir.

“What were you doing?” I hissed after I’d eased the door shut behind him.

“In case you didn’t notice, we’ve got these here bombs strapped t’our necks.” He hefted what he’d stolen in front of my face. Even with the lamp right next to it I could barely make it out. It was a metallic cylinder with a large rectangle of... plastic? Glass? I couldn’t tell. Screen. Oh yes, that was the word for it. A rectangular screen. I couldn’t make out any other details before he swept it back down and latched it around his foreleg. “Seein’ as they’re not carryin’ any obvious trigger, I figured the control for our collars are on their PipBucks.”

He pressed something on its side, and the device—or PipBuck, I guess it was called—shone with light. The buck smiled, and after a few more taps on the screen all the former slaves’ collars fell of with a collective hiss-THUNK.

Ever since we had exited the door, our small mob had been moving steadily away from the striped house, but the moment the collars were off the reality of the ponies’ freedom hit them hard, and they bolted—in small groups and pairs—off, either back toward Chard or in the direction we had been heading before nightfall. All except the yellow buck.

He, having kicked his collar away, now examined me in the near-complete darkness. By the glow of his PipBuck I could tell he wasn’t smiling anymore, and his eyes held an ominous glint.

“Y’know,” he began. His voice was low, very different from the desperate whisper it had been a moment ago. “There’s a neat little feature on all these PipBucks called an EFS. You know what that stands for you... whatever you are?”

“No.” I suddenly felt the weight of the knives in my saddlebag. He had seen me copy Tumbleweed. He may not know what a Changeling was, but he knew what I could do, and I didn’t imagine that set him at ease.

“Eyes-Forward Sparkle. It’s a nifty little thing that tells me what everypony thinks of me—that is, whether they want to kill me or not. It does this by marking them with color. Usually there’s two basic colors, one for hostile, red, and one for... what’s the word? Oh yeah, docile. That one’s color varies depending on the model. Some show blue, some show yellow, and some show green—like this one here. And, heh, that’s pretty convenient for me, ‘cuz when I first heard of PipBucks, I learned a cute little saying that goes along with that color. You wanna know what it is?”

While he talked he had started circling me slowly, his disheveled and dirty hair made somehow ominous by the poor lighting from his leg. He had stopped now, having walked half way around, and stood facing me. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sure...”

“Green: They’re clean. Red: They’re dead. Guess what color you are.” He didn’t give me time to.

Before I could react, he lunged at me, bringing his PipBuck-wearing foreleg down upon my head. I ducked as he moved, and the blow missed, but in the next instant I felt the air knocked from my lungs as both his hind legs slammed into me. I didn’t have time to wonder how an exhausted slave could possibly move that fast as his buck sent me sprawling back onto a chunk of asphalt that had decided to weather the post-apocalypse just long enough to make me howl in pain as my flank I landed on it. I rolled back up, shaky on my feet, and took the opportunity to draw one of the blades from my saddlebag, expecting him to be on me.

But he hadn't followed up on his attack. He stood where he had been, grinning triumphantly. His hoof hovered over the PipBuck’s shining screen.

DOWN!

I looked down. There, at my feet, was one of the explosive collars.

I kicked it away a moment before it—along with every other one the slaves had been wearing—exploded. Their combined shockwave sent me stumbling back, forward, and then sprawling onto the ground. I struggled quickly back up, but a throbbing pain in my right foreleg meant I could only stand on three feet. Luckily my armor seemed to have absorbed most of the shrapnel from behind.

I didn’t wait for the buck to attack again. I threw myself blindly at where I thought he would come from, and was rewarded with an “oof!” sound as I rammed my shoulder into his torso. I managed to keep my balance, and, forgetting I still had the teeth of an herbivor, I lunged downward and chomped ineffectively on his neck.

“Ack! Get off you fuckin’ freaky body snatchin’—”

We struggled awkwardly for a second before I had the brilliant idea of slamming his head against the ground. I couldn’t lift him very far up, so the blow didn’t knock him out, but it was enough to stun him. I limped away from our now-charred battleground into the safety of darkness just as one of the slavers emerged to investigate the explosion.

“What th’ hell’s goin’ on? Tumble? Ya’ out here? Tumble?” Hairpin’s voice. It was filled with concern.

* * * * *

I stopped when the pain in my hoof grew too great to ignore anymore. I checked over my shoulder to make sure I hadn't been followed. Nothing but darkness. Hairpin’s confused shouts had died away a long time ago. I would have smiled, but my hoof was still on fire. I couldn’t see how hurt I was, but I didn’t dare try and walk on it. I groaned in pain and frustration. Now what?

Medicine.

Oh right. I had those healing potions. I took one out and popped the top off. Now... I guess I had to put it on the wound? I carefully took it into my mouth and tilted my head. The liquid stung when it hit, but I could feel my hoof quickly growing. It was uncomfortable, like worms wriggling up from my bone and flattening themselves out to become surface flesh. I shuddered after the sensation faded and then felt around where the wound had been. It seemed whole again, and I lowered it to the ground. No pain. Good.

Now... well, now there wasn’t much else to do but find more love. And avoid slavers. Definitely avoid slavers.

You’re an idiot.

Well, at least avoid slavers who were also unicorns with gravity magic. Too much risk for too little gain. The gratitude of freed slaves was energizing, but I doubted I could live off it. Unless slave caravans were abundant around here I’d need to find a more reliable source of food in order to survive, like a safe town, or a stable relationship. Those shouldn’t be too hard to find.

Right?

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Biter - Unarmed critical hits are 10% more likely. +5 to Unarmed.

Chapter 3: Bulbs and The Fields

“Tis better to be alone, then of bad company.”

I wandered blindly forward until dawn came, too afraid to risk sleep. There wasn’t much cover out here, so if I overslept and the slavers happened to come across me... I didn’t want to think about it. At best they now saw “Tumbleweed” as a traitor, and at worst they’d caught the buck I’d fought and knew about what I actually was. I was going to assume the worst.

My head ached from not sleeping (love energy, apparently, does not negate my need for rest) and I was forced to squint in the dull morning light. I had walked far in the night, and I found that I had come across the remnants of a small town—an actual town, not another facility—located just off to the right of the road. Curious, I hopped off the road and trotted closer.

There were many buildings, but at least half had either collapsed or been eroded away, as they had been made of wood. The ones that remained looked to have been constructed of sturdier material, but, as I neared them, I saw that even they were worn and vacant. A rusted tiller sat at the edge of the building closest to me, the bar ponies had once pulled it with broken. It was a sad monument to the farmland that must once have been here.

As I approached, my eye was caught by something glinting in the dirt in front of what had probably been a saloon. It was... well, I wasn’t sure what it was, but when I dug it out of the mud I saw that it looked like a shiny white sphere. Pretty, but useless as far as I could tell. Maybe I could sell it to someone? I shrugged to myself and put it into my saddlebag, right next to the Survival Guide.

Huh. I had completely forgotten about that book.

I debated whether I should sit down and read it immediately, or find someplace more secure than out in the open in the middle of an abandoned town. I decided on the former, and turned back to the town. Three guns greeted me.

“Welp, Grimey, looks like you owe me twenty caps, eh-he-he-he!”

A unicorn, flanked by two earth ponies, all clad in spiked, bloody armor. Three raiders. The leftmost earth pony was the one who had spoken.

“Thuck thoo, Thlail,” the other replied, slobbering around the butt of the gun in her mouth. The unicorn, obviously their leader, grinned at me. A rifle with a serrated blade tied onto the end hovered by his head.

“I’ll admit,” he said, “I didn’t expect this stupid idea of yours t’ work, but it looks like we found somepony even more fucking stupid than you are, Flail. ‘Throw a shiny object in the dirt and hope somepony gets curious?’ I thought nopony’d be that dumb.” His weapon bobbed menacingly in front of my head.

“W-what do you want?” I croaked. My mouth had suddenly gone dry. “Don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? Oh, we only want to play a bit.” He laughed, and jabbed the tip of his bayonet into my shoulder without any warning. I yelped in pain, and jerked back. I tried to turn around and flee, but one of them tackled me.

“Where d’ya think you’re going, fuckbrain? Eh-he-he-he.” I kicked out against him, and my hoof connected with his jaw. “Fuck!” He pressed down on my injured shoulder. I screamed, but the pain gave me enough strength to squirmed out from under him. But then the unicorn was on me. I tasted mud as he pressed a hoof down onto my neck.

“Oh calm down, potato-butt. We just wanna have a little fun.” I could hear all three snickering sadistically. One of them ripped off my armor, and I felt a blade press down against my neck. “Now Flail, show this nice young buck what gettin’ a Cutie Mark in skin-strippin’ feels like.”

I had wondered how Raiders could be worse than Slavers. I guess I was getting my answer. What was that expression Hairpins used? ‘Curse my tongue?’

The knife cut my skin, and pain like I’d never felt ripped through my shoulder as it was dragged downward. I tried to scream, but the sound was muted by the dirt. The knife was gone now, and something plopped down into the dirt next to me. The raiders laughed again, but it cut short, and the unicorn removed his hoof from my neck.

“Wait... what the fuck?”

“Whoa, hold up. What the fuck is that green shit?”

There was pain. Too much pain. I strained my neck, fighting the pain just to move and see past my tears. The slab of exposed flesh on my side was trickling not red blood but a green ooze. I saw it and the disgusted expressions on the raiders’ faces, but didn’t care. I just wanted the pain to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Is that some sorta disease? Are you fucking infected?”

“Fuck, are we gunna get infected too?” I heard the mare take a step back.

“Fuck this. Let’s just kill him and take his shit before we catch whatever the hell this is.”

As they panicked, I reached for a healing potion in my saddlebag. I moved my forelegs to help remove the stopper from the vial, but that only caused the agony in my shoulder to redouble. I jerked back into a more tolerable position, hissing under my breath.

“Answer the question!” The unicorn was shouting now. He kicked my side with a foreleg. “Is that green shit contagious?”

“I—” I couldn’t speak. It hurt too much. So much it made me feel sick. And what could I say? ‘Yes’ and they’d kill me. ‘No’ and they’d keep torturing me. I saw the unicorn raise his gun above his head, aiming it down at me like a spear.

—es, say yes, say ye—

“Y-yes!” I cried.

“It is!?” His eyes went wild, and he jerked the gun upwards.

“Wait!” I cried before he could bring it down. “You don’t want to kill me!”

“Wha—why the fuck not?” He stopped, breathing heavily. His companions had backed away now, weary of my ‘infection.’

“You don’t want to kill me because, uh, because—” I needed to think. I needed to fight past the pain. “—because I, urgh, I still need to get the, uh, cure for it, and it’s r-really uh, contagious, so you all probably have it now and I—I can’t get the cure if you k-kill me.”

“R-really contagious?” The unicorn’s eyes grew wide. He looked almost as scared as I was. “What—what the fuck does it do to you?”

“It does, um—” As if on queue, there was a sizzling sound to my right, and all our heads turned toward it. Before our eyes, the chunk of my flesh they had cut off was briefly engulfed in a green flame that transformed it into a leathery black chitin that oozed the same green as my shoulder. I knew that what I’d seen was just that section of skin undisguising, but to my attackers it must have look like some sort of magical spontaneous combustion.

“—that.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” All three of them jumped away from me, and I took the opportunity to pick up the healing potion. I grimaced, but I managed to pop the top off and pour it on my wound. It stung as I applied it, made me squirm as it healed, and left me queasy when it was done, but at least I wasn’t about to die anymore. In fact, the three raiders were resolving the situation nicely on their own.

“Ge’ away thom me!” Grimey, who I now noticed had a dirty rag for a Cutie Mark, screamed at the unicorn. In his panic, he had backed toward her, and she was now pointing her gun at his head. “Don’ you thucking inthecth me, thoo!”

“N-no, Grimey, I-I’m not infected! Flail, he-he’s the one! He was doing the cutting, he got that green shit on himself. I-I can’t be infected! I can’t be...”

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck—” was all Flail could say as he spun around in a circle, looking at himself with wide-eyes for any signs of my ‘infection.’ I would have found it comical if I hadn't just been on the verge of being grotesquely murdered.

“Ah thaid geh away.”

“Look, Grimey, I—” The unicorn took another step forward and his plea turned into a gurgle as the crazed mare shot her weapon. His body slumped to the ground. I gasped, and Flail stopped in his tracks. A look passed between the three of us, and I realized I’d done too good a job of convincing them I was infected. I leaped aside only a moment before the mare shot at me.

“Fuck, Grimey, don’t shoot him!”

I made a beeline for the saloon, and a second bullet whizzed over my head. The noise sent me into a full on panic, and I sprang sideways, crashing through the building’s window without even thinking.

I scrambled back onto my feet. Near the back of the building were some stairs leading to a second story. I ran over to them and kept going, not pausing until I had reached the top. Up here were many old bedrooms, most of which were either half-destroyed and filled with rubble from whatever explosion had gotten rid of the roof. I ran into one of the more intact ones and was looking for a place to hide when I heard another pair of gunshots. Then silence.

Before I could guess what had happened I heard hoofsteps from the floor below. I crouched down behind a metal table that gave me enough cover not to be seen from the doorway, but that was small enough so I could still leap out from behind it and take somepony by surprise. The hoofsteps grew louder.

“H-hey!” The voice that emanated from the stairway was Flail’s. It was nervous. “Hey, guy, you up there? L-look, I’m, eh-heh, sorry about the whole tryin’ t’ kill you thing, honest. Bloodcurdle’s the one who encouraged us, r-really. It’s all his fault. S-so what do ya’ say we put this little, uh, misunderstandin’ behind us and go get that cure to whatever this freaky disease is you got, huh? H-how about that?” His voice grew desperate, and I could hear him pacing around the hall, searching for me. “P-please?” he begged. I kept quiet. “Please? I-I don’t want to die like that. Fuck, I don’t wanna burn up. I swear I won’t hurt you, I really, really don’t wanna die like that.”

I narrowed my eyes as his words turned my fear into rage. Only a moment ago he had been gleefully skinning me alive, and now he thought some half-mumbled begging was going to save him?

It was then I realized I wanted to kill him. He had hurt me. Badly. He and his gang would have tortured me to death and taken pleasure in it, and so I was enraged. Slavers, Raiders... these ponies were monstrous. These must be the types of ponies who had caused Equestria to fall from paradise. Only something so twisted could have brought down something so good. If this was the type of pointless pain and hatred that had robbed us Changelings of our feast, then I had no qualms with ending it.

Anger fueled my adrenaline rush this time, and the moment I saw Flail peek into the room I charged, drawing my remaining blade—I had lost the first one in the fight with that slave. Flail recoiled, but I was faster than him and the element of surprise was on my side. Before he could draw his gun—he had actually believe his begging would pacify me?—I slashed at his face. He howled in pain, and I moved to slit his throat. He managed to move away from my attack, but I still cut his shoulder, and he howled again.

I didn’t let up. I kept slashing at him, forcing him to back up until he tripped over a pile of rubble. Then I was on him. He struck out at me with his hooves, but I was already too close to be pushed off. I stabbed down, finally managing to hit his neck. He cried out in pain, and I pushed the knife farther down. His cry turned into a gurgle, then nothing.

I removed the blade from his corpse, and panted in the silence. It was odd. My attackers were dead, I was safe, but I didn’t feel relieved. When I had killed Bright Lights I had regretted it—I had felt bad. Now, though... Now I just felt numb.

Feed.

But the Raiders were dead. I was alive. That was all that mattered.

There was a wetness around my hoof. Flail’s blood was already pooling around him. I stepped away from him, and put my knife away. As I did my eyes were drawn to his Cutie Mark. It was made to look like a patch of skin had been removed from his flank, the muscles underneath clearly visible. ‘Skin stripping,’ his special talent. My stomach twisted at the image, and I quickly trotted away.

As I descended the stairs I had time to look around the decrepit saloon. I now noticed the raiders’ trophies—the rotting heads of previous victims—mounted in a line above the bar. Several brightly colored rugs, made from equally rotten pony hide, had been laid at one corner atop even older hay mattresses. Several more decorated the walls. I definitely did not regret killing these ponies.

I didn’t want to linger in this ghost town. I put my armor back on, picked up the gun Bloodcurdle had used—I liked the knife it had—and galloped back to the road as fast as I could. I didn’t bother with any extensive looting. I just wanted to leave. I needed to find someplace safe to rest and recover.

* * * * *

More walking. I’d gotten quite the adrenaline rush from my near-death experience, but that quickly wore off and left me even more tired than I had been before. I plodded along without encountering any more trouble except for a pair of giant cockroaches—Radroaches—and another of those pink snakes. I squashed it with a hoof when it got near me. Ugh. The mess it left was gross. At another point I thought I saw another building to my left in the distance, but I didn’t investigate. It was far away from the road, and I didn’t want to risk running into more raiders.

* * * * *

Ah. That place looked much more inviting.

It was a facility-turned-town just like Chard, but, unlike the front of that dying place, there was no gaping wound to expose its insides. Only a steel face with a mishmash of happy neon letters that spelled out the city’s name: “Bulbs.” Some distance behind it were the first hills I’d seen since the mountains, but from where I was I couldn’t make out any of their details.

I smiled and started forward, but then I realized something—I was filthy! My coat was covered in dirt, blood, and my own green ooze. I also smelled terrible, and that was just no good. If I wanted to make a good impression on anypony I met, I’d have to get cleaned up a bit first.

I ducked into a ditch off to one side of the road, quickly undisguising and redisguising. Much better.

Now that I was presentable, I trotted forward toward Bulbs. I didn’t see any way to get in right away, but as I trotted closer I noticed a series of holes that had been cut (or drilled maybe? It was solid steel) into the lower front of the building. The biggest one—about three ponies wide—was obviously a doorway, and it had a pair of openings directly above it where I could see ponies pointing guns down at whoever approached. In this case it was me.

“Hey you! Stop right there!” one of them shouted. I stopped where I was, not wanting to provoke the guards. There was a clunk from behind the doorway, and the steel sheet rattled upward, lifted by an unseen force. A purple mare with a periwinkle mane emerged. A gun hovered by her side, and the armor she wore—which looked much more protective than mine—covered her Cutie Mark.

“Stay still, mister,” she said with a voice that sounded much younger than she looked, “I don’t want any trouble.”

“I don’t either,” I replied. I didn’t move, and when she got within a leg’s reach she started to circle me slowly. She was probably checking for some... dangerous thing. She could already see my guns, I’m not sure what else she thought I could be hiding. Besides myself.

“So, what’s yer name, stranger?”

“Tu—uh, I mean, Spud. My name is Spud.” Probably best if I didn’t give the name of a slaver. Actually, it probably would have been better if I hadn’t stayed disguised as a slaver in the first place.

By Tartarus, when did you become such an amature?

“Spud, huh? Well, mister Spud, may I ask you what your business in Bulbs is? It’s not often I see somepony I don’t know around these parts that isn’t of raider ilk.” She completed her circle and sat down in front of me. Her gun was pointed upward non-threateningly. “What’s a little pony like you doin’ out in the Fields all on his lonesome?”

Little pony? I was her height!

“I’m just looking for... a place to stay.” Which was true, I still hadn’t slept since that hour or so last night. “I don’t have a home right now and I heard Bulbs was, uh, nice.”

“Well shoot, mister, then where’d you live before now?”

Where did I live before? Did that matter? “I lived in, uh—” Think of a name, think of a name... Ah-ha! “—Cave Town. I lived in Cave Town.” Hey, that one was actually kind of clever.

No. No it wasn’t.

“Cave... Town?” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Where the hay is that?”

“It’s, uh, back that way.” I waved a hoof in the direction of the mountains I’d come from. “You, uh, probably don’t know about it because it’s hidden. In a cave. That’s why we call it Cave Town.” I hoped she was satisfied, otherwise—

“So why the hay did you leave?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Does that really matter? I just want a place to sleep that’s... safe.”

“Ha!” She actually laughed at that. “We all do, mister. That’s why I’m askin’ you so many questions. The last pony who walked up to a city alone had a Balefire egg stashed in his gut and is the reason Chard’s blown half to smithereens.”

“Really?” I didn’t know what a Balefire was, but I made a mental note not to eat its eggs if I ever ran across them. Nothing good could come from something that explosive.

“Wow, mister, you must really not be from around here to not have heard about that. Hey, Foolproof!” she called back to one of the ponies behind the guard windows, “You got a reading yet?”

“Yep,” came the response, “he’s clean. You can let him in, Cathy.” She turned back to me, smiling.

“Well, mister Spud, looks like you’re safe. That being the case, let me apologize for all the questioning—I gotta make sure we don’t let any hooligans in. My name’s Cathode, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to Bulbs.” She extended a hoof, and, after staring awkwardly at it for a moment, I realized what I was supposed to do and shook it. She gave me an odd expression, and then turned back to the city.

“Now follow me, mister, and I’ll give you the full tour. Not every day I meet somepony new.”

* * * * *

The first thing I noticed as Cathode lead me through Bulbs’s makeshift gate was that this city’s defence was much more impressive than Chard’s. A scaffolding had been set up so that three or four ponies could easily look out of the windows that had been carved (drilled? burned?) into the walls. From there, I imagined, they would be able to see anyone who approached long before that person could see them. One of the guards held a small black device in his mouth that clicked slowly and softly. He was pointing it at me, and I assumed that, whatever it was, it was the thing that told him whether I was ‘clean’ or not.

Also on the ground floor was a gun twice the size of a pony set up to fire out of the entranceway. It was flanked by two other ponies clad in the same sort of body armor as the dead pegasi in the cave, and each had a gun mounted on their sides that looked like a miniature version of the one they were standing beside. I gulped at the sight.

“Well, mister, as you may have noticed,” Cathode began, forcing me to tear my gaze from all that firepower, “you can actually see in here. We take pride in being the only city in the Fields with a reliable source of lighting.” Indeed, as we walked further in I could see that most walls were lined with cords and wires that lead up toward the ceiling where a plethora of light bulbs of all shapes and sizes shone steadily. I looked back down and noticed Cathode had trotted ahead.

I caught up with her quickly, nearly tripping on a stray wire as I did so, and asked her a question that had been on my mind, “Who were those ponies back there, the ones with all that armor?”

“You mean the ones by that ol’ tank canon?” I nodded. “Those are Steel Rangers. You tellin’ me you never heard of Steel Rangers before, mister?”

I shook my head. “Who are they?”

“Well, mister, there are only two things you gotta know about them. One: they always got bigger guns than you do—always. Two: they got a collective hard-on for technology. Especially pre-war tech, so if you ever find anything good don’t let them know, otherwise it’s not yours anymore. Not even Garlic could stand up to ‘em—they’d just blow him away like the rest of us if we tried.”

“Uh, but why are they helping guard Bulbs?” Her response had generated a whole slew of other questions, but that one was the first that I managed to spit out.

“Ha! About that: the Steel Rangers got a fort up by the coast, near where the mountain range ends, and until a year ago they mostly kept to themselves up there. Then, for some reason, they decided to start being more active, and they started wandering down into the Fields. At first they weren’t too bad—they’d splatter any raiders they caught a whiff of, but if they caught you with a PipBuck or whatnot they would ‘confiscate’ it—but then they started getting... hungry.”

“One day, they stomped up to Tubers and got them to ‘agree’ to a defensive pact. They offered to stick around and ‘protect’ the city from whatever threats the Wasteland might throw at them if the townsponies paid them a heap of caps each month. ‘Course, if they refused then the Rangers worried that the local raiders might suddenly ‘stumble’ upon some high caliber artillery—basically, it was a roundabout way of saying ‘pay us, and we won’t kill you.’ Soon after, the same thing happened to us... we had no choice but to accept. Then they did it to Maize and finally Chard; though they haven’t been asking for much from them after they got hit with that bomb. Only place they haven’t started ‘protecting’ is Seeds, and only because, well, heh, I imagine those bastards would lose more caps than they’d gain if they spent too much time over there.”

“Why’s that?” I interrupted.

“Oh, mister, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” She giggled and gave me a wink. “Anyway, that’s not the worst bit. When they started coercin’ a tax out of us they also started charging a toll on anypony who wanted to cross through their ‘borders,’ which means that anypony who wants to even get near us has to pay out the nose just for walking. Needless to say, trade with the rest of the Wasteland has dried up since that happened. I swear, it’s like they’re trying to put us under siege. If it weren’t for the Plantations, we’d of been in a real bad way a long time ago.”

And now I had even more questions. Good thing we didn’t seem to be in a hurry. We were just standing a ways away from the gate and talking. “Plantations?”

“Oh right, I keep forgetting you’re not from around here, mister. Plantations... let’s see, where do I start...” She tapped a hoof against her chin. “Ah! I know: Back before the world ended, during the war, this whole area—from the edge of the swamp all the way up to a little before the Steel Ranger’s base—was farmland dedicated to churning out food for the whole of Equestria. Ponies need a lot of food, and war only makes them hungrier, and this was the perfect place to put a mass of farms; mountains to the south that run east, and a sea that runs west up from beyond the swamp and then turns into a bay in the north. It required minimal ground defenses and was suicide to attack directly—it’s hard to get a hoofhold in near-endless farmland when you got an armada of pegasi ready to bomb you back to Celestia.”

“Anyway, when the bombs finally fell most of this place was irradiated and everything that grew was either burned up by the balefire or withered the following winter. Well, almost everything—that’s where the Plantations come in. Somehow, a few patches of crop managed to survive and grew wild around these facilities until the first ponies emerged from the Stables or wherever else they’d hid and turned these facilities into towns. Whoever managed to gain control of the local crop supply immediately became the most powerful pony for a mile around because they were the only reliable source of food for twice that distance. Plantations are what we call the places they grow those crops, and all of them are nearby these facility-cities. Garlic, who I believe I mentioned earlier, is the stallion currently in charge of Bulbs’s Plantation.”

He was also, I now realized, the pony Tumbleweed had stolen from. And whose lackee I’d killed. My decision to not disguise as anypony else was looking dumber by the minute.

“Whew!” Cathode breathed deeply. “You sure got me talking, mister. Anything else you wanna know?”

“Erm...” I still had questions, but she’d already told me a lot. I’d need a while to take it all in. “Oh, yes: are there any pegasi in the Steel Rangers?”

Enclave.

“In the Steel Rangers? Heck no! They hate those sky-stealing bastards more than anypony. If pegasi ever did anything but hide up on their clouds the Steel Rangers would probably shoot them on sight. Why’d you ask, mister?”

“Oh, uh, no reason...” She raised an eyebrow at me, and I quickly thought of another question to distract her. “Which other cities are around here? You said there was Chard, Seeds, Maize, and...”

“And Tubers, yeah. Just those. Most everywhere else in the Fields is either a ghost town or full of raiders. There used to be a few other facilities before the war, but they were the big ones. That’s why they got hit. There’s nothing left but radioactive rubble, now.”

“And what about New Canterlot?” To me, a city claiming to be the new capital of Equestria sounded like it would be significant enough to mention, but she hadn’t said a word about it.

“Oh. Oh them.” She thought for a moment before continuing. “Well, mister, New Canterlot’s a city way up northwest, right by the coast. It was founded by the ponies who came out of Stable 111 a long time ago—before I was born, actually. Nopony down here particularly cared about it until... well, I can’t really remember exactly how long it’s been. Three? Four years? Anyway, that’s when a zebra tribe came up from the swamp and started making trouble. Something about continuing their ‘Glorious Crusade’ or something. They would attack any pony settlements they could and kill anypony they caught. They’re part of the reason these facilities are the only places we live now—everywhere else was nearly impossible to defend.”

Zebras. At the mention of the word an image of a strange being flashed through my mind. Like a pony, but striped white and black, with exotic eyes. I filed it away and kept listening, intrigued.

“Nopony could do anything against the zebras terrorizing the Fields. We tried fighting them directly, but every time they got the upper hoof the zebras would just run off, regroup, and attack somewhere else. Things were getting pretty bad until New Canterlot got themselves involved. The day the zebras finally made a serious attempt to overrun Chard, the NCs show up with their freakin’ unicorn army and wiped the floor with them. Everypony was really thankful, and Chard’s plantation even gave them a share of their crop for free, but then they declared the Fields under their ‘domain’ and demanded that we all ‘submit to their rule’ or we’d be kicked out.”

“Kicked out to where?”

“That’s exactly what we said to them!” Cathode laughed. “As soon as they realized nopony would be ‘submitting’ to anything they left as quickly as they’d come. They didn’t have any way to enforce their rule anyway. They send ponies down occasionally to tell us about some new law or something but we mostly ignore them. If they really wanted to get us to listen to them, then they’d do something about the Steel Rangers’s tax. If anypony could possibly stand up to them it would be the NCs, but they’ve done diddly squat. I mean sure, they send down 'patrols' to take out slavers and raiders sometimes, but those aren't the biggest problems in the Fields to begin with. I guess they don’t give two shits about us unless we’re already grovelin’ and ‘submitting.’” Her voice had become progressively angrier, and she rolled her eyes as she spoke the last word.

I yawned despite myself. My weariness was catching up with me. All this was... interesting, but it got me nowhere closer to a good love meal.

You think much too small. Extrapolate.

Although... Cathode had said New Canterlot had an army. To afford that, they would need... food, some place to train, and ponies to be soldiers. To have all those they would need... stability. And where there was stability, there was more likely to be love.

“Do the NCs they let others join them?” I asked.

“Only unicorns.” She gave me a sympathetic look.

“Oh...” That wasn’t actually a problem for me, but she didn’t know that.

“Sorry to burst your bubble if you were plannin’ to go there, mister. It’s not really even worth getting to anyway. There’s no road like there is between these facilities, so you’d have to trek through a few miles of pure, unleaded Wasteland: Taint, raiders, monsters, all that good stuff.”

“Monsters?”

To ponies, us.

“Oh sure, there’s Manticores, Radroaches, Bloatsprites... I’m sure you get the idea, mister.”

“Thanks for the warning. And all the information.” I said.

“No problem,” Cathode replied, “So, you want me to show you around the place, or should I let you be? Some ponies get lost their first time in these facilities. Especially in Maize.”

“Yes. Is there somewhere I can sleep?” I really needed a good rest. Absorbing all this information, as helpful as it might be, had only made the ache in my head worse, and I could already feel my eyelids growing heavier.

“Alright, just follow me mister. You’ll probably find a spare room on the upper floor.”

* * * * *

After following Cathode through several hallways, I found myself walking into a large room that must have once been the facility’s main production floor. We emerged near its back half, and I could see that this section of the room had been converted into a marketplace. As in Chard, the vendors had fashioned small booths out of whatever metals they could, but now they were all lined up in a row down an old conveyor belt. The belt formed the ‘table’ upon which they displayed their goods, while the scrap metal formed the walls that separated one stall from the next. Toward the back I saw that, instead of more steel wall, there was a huge door that looked like it could roll up into the ceiling. I noticed another pair of steel rangers were standing guard near it, as well as a similar defensive setup attended by ponies who were presumably more of Bulbs’ normal guards. The whole place reeked of ripe onions.

“Hey!” Cathode’s shout drew my attention away from the expansiveness of the room. I saw her run forward into the crowd of ponies moving throughout the market, chasing something I hadn’t noticed. I followed immediately, dodging though the ponies who had already parted to make way for my guide, and came to an abrupt halt when I saw what she was after.

Two bucks—one a brown unicorn, the other a grey earth pony—were engaged in a tug-of-war over a particularly long rifle. The unicorn gripped one end in his telekinesis, while the other had his jaw firmly clasped around the butt of the gun and was trying to pull it free.

“Stop it you two!” Cathode shouted at them. She was waving her own gun at them like it was a baton, but neither seemed to notice or care. They were too involved in their dispute.

“Let go you fuckin’ theif,” the earth pony cursed through clenched teeth, “Let go!”

“I said stop it you two!” Cathode moved to strike the unicorn with her weapon, but before the blow fell he managed to get the upper hoof. I blinked in surprise as he suddenly twisted the top piece of the rifle—a greasy silver cylinder—off. The moment the piece detached two things happened. First, the earth pony who had been pulling with all his might now found nothing resisting him, and consequently stumbled backward into the few other ponies who had been watching his ordeal. Secondly, the unicorn, now apparently satisfied with just that piece, stowed it in his saddle bag and jumped away from Cathode’s incoming attack in one smooth motion.

Cathode made a noise that sounded like she was halfway between startled at his sudden movement and angry that she had missed, but before the mare could say another word, an indigo aura enveloped the thieving stallion and he vanished in a quick flash, reappearing only a few feet away with his hair singed and smoking. He was out of reach of anypony who had been watching, and he vanished down another of the facility’s hallways before Cathode could catch up to him. She huffed in aggravation and trotted back to the robbed buck.

“Well don’t just stand there!” he shouted at her, “Go after him!”

“Uh, sorry mister Sparks,” Cathode said as she holstered her weapon, “I didn’t see which way he went after he ducked into the hall.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “I’d need t’ get together a whole heap of ponies to comb through everywhere and, uh, I don’t think everypony would be up for that right now...” She looked at the other ponies who had been gawking at the event, and a few gave her embarrassed murmurs of agreement. Others just trotted off with half-hearted looks of guilt. “A-at least you still got your gun, right?”

“Well fuck! That silencer was the only reason I bought the damn thing in the first place.” He trudged toward where the unicorn had disappeared into. “If none of you are gunna help then I’ll find that fucker and kill him myself!”

“Er, hold on a minute mister—” I didn’t register the rest of what Cathode said. I felt a sudden burst of emotion from behind me, and turned around just as it resolved into a steady stream of gratitude. A very familiar tasting gratitude.

“Hey, it’s you!” The outpouring came from a mare—a mare who I now saw was one from the slave caravan. She was dark pink with an even darker purple mane, and her Cutie Mark was that of a cartoonish gun over a red cross. She ran up to me with thankful expression, but stopped short as our eyes met, possibly taken aback by how quickly I’d reacted. “Hi. I, uh, n-never got to thank you for saving us back there. So... thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, smiling. Her gratitude had wavered with that first look, blocked by a wave of nervousness, and I needed to cultivate it back to full force. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner, but I was... waiting for the right moment.” I felt her hesitance vanish and I stretched out a with a mental tendril, latching onto the good emotions that remained. Her energy started to slowly seep into my veins, and I felt somewhat restored; it was like a long sip of cool water after a day of being parched. Unfortunately, it did little for my headache.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked, taking a half-step closer, “I don’t have much, but if you need anything I’ll try to help... I-it’s the least I could do.” Her words were genuine, but I now noticed something odd beneath her thankfulness. It wasn’t exactly malicious, but it was definitely not... love-ish. I could identify all variety of good feelings so long as they were directed at me, but I still needed to rely on normal means of communication to identify anything else.

“Actually,” I replied, glancing back at Cathode. She was still talking with the buck, who now looked as impatient as he was angry. “I need a place to sleep. I haven’t slept since I—well since we escaped.”

Good. Suggest companionship. Form a bond.

“A-a place to sleep? I... I can do that. I know somepony who might have a spare room, if you’re interested.”

“I am. Thank you, Miss...”

“Spare Parts, and, uh, you’re welcome. Now just f-follow me then.” She smiled, but as she lead me away from the marketplace I felt that odd lump of emotion grow a bit stronger, and it worried me. That pony, Garlic, whom Tumbleweed had supposedly stolen from, what if she was leading me to him? No, that seemed... It didn’t seem right somehow. I hadn’t been recognized so far, even though I’d passed over a dozen other ponies. Maybe Tumbleweed hadn’t lived here when he’d stolen from Garlic? But then why had Bright Lights been so personal when he’d tried to kill me? Maybe Tumbleweed had only lived on the Plantation? But surely he’d have to have come into the city at some point. This market was (relatively) full of food—I had seen onions, dry tulips, some shallots—and if the only way to get more was from Plantations, then there must have been some interaction. So why hadn’t at least one pony recognized me?

Pain pulsed through my head in a dull throb, making me grimace. Too much thinking on too little sleep.

While I had been attempting to unravel the workings of this world I had found myself in, the pink mare had lead me to an old elevator shaft. Its doors had been removed, but I could see that half of it was blocked off by a metal wall. In the other half there had been placed a ramp that tilted slightly upward and ended at the back wall of the shaft. As Spare Parts started walking upward I saw that another ramp had been placed at the end of the first, tilted up at the same angle in the opposite direction. I followed her up both and saw that the pattern continued, creating a series of ramps that doubled back on themselves and moved us slightly higher each time.

It was a clever design, but the ramps had a shallow angle, and a wall had been welded in the middle of each ‘level,’ which meant that as soon as we passed onto the third ramp the sounds from the marketplace vanished. There was also only enough room for us to walk single file, and even then it was so cramped I had to duck my head down slightly. I started to feel short of breath as the claws of claustrophobia began working their way into my mind. The walls were closing in, pressing down on me like Bloodcurdle’s hoof into my back, and Bright Light’s into my chest.

I would have broken down right then and there if it had been pitch black, but luckily the ponies who had constructed this creaking stairwell had put small bulbs in the corner of the ceilings on each ‘floor,’ and they illuminated everything in a steady pale light. As it was, I still barely managed to hold myself together through what seemed like an endless series of turns up an endless series of ramps. At least the smell of onions was starting to fade.

I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally reached the top. We emerged from the cramped stairwell into a wide hallway. As I followed Spare Parts I realized that this upper level was what passed for this city’s living quarters. We walked by many openings; some were doors that lead to rooms, others branched off into more hallways. In some of the rooms we passed I could see tattered beds, piles of trash, and the occasional cracked mirror hanging on a wall. Others were empty, and a few had ponies occupying them. Most of the rooms that still had doors had them closed, and presumably locked. I felt a light draft sweep around me, but I could not see its source.

“What were all these rooms for?” I asked. It seemed a bit odd to have all this in a food processing plant.

“Oh, uh, I-I dunno,” Spare Parts answered, obviously startled at my sudden question, “I guess they were where the, uh, workers lived. M-must have been easier than commuting every day.”

“Hm.” Now she was stuttering a bit, and that made me even more wary of her. By now her initial burst of feeling toward me had died down, and I no longer had a glimpse into her emotions. Why was she acting so nervous? She had no reason to—well, no, that wasn’t true. Tumbleweed had helped enslave her at one point, so if anything it was odd that she was willing to help me at all. Yes I had freed her, but even then...

Again my head throbbed. By Tartarus I needed to sleep.

Finally, we stopped in front of a set of double doors. Spare Parts pushed them open with a hoof and I followed her inside into what must have once been this facility’s common room. It was large enough to hold a small gathering of ponies, and I saw that it had several side-doors that lead to bathrooms and a few other facilities. The sawed-off bottom of a rusty circular tank sat in the middle of the room, turned into a table, and around it sat two stallions and a mare playing cards, all of whom gave us apathetic glances as we stepped through the doorway. A pair of defunct vending machines sat in the room’s corner, their insides long since ripped out and reused. Against the back wall I saw that another conveyor belt was being used as the table for a bar, while several stools had been fashioned from old machine cogs. More ponies sat at the bar, and they were attended by a tan stallion who looked over at us the moment we entered.

“Hey Parts,” he said as we walked up to her, “who’s your friend?”

“Hey Ray,” she replied, “This is T-Tumbleweed. He’s the pony who saved me, actually.”

“Tumbleweed?” His eyes narrowed at me. “So he’s th’ pony who enslaved you.” I balked at the venom in his voice.

“Ray!” Spare Parts whined, “W-we’ve been over this. He saved us—he didn’t have too. B-besides, he was reluctant from the start. It was only those others who were real vicious.”

“Oh yeah?” Ray retorted, “Well why was he gettin’ involved with them in the first place, huh?” Though his question was directed at his friend his glare was aimed at me.

“I, uh—” Think. What did I know about Tumbleweed? He had angered Garlic. Disliked slavery but had taken it up anyway. That meant— “I didn’t really have a choice, uh, I was in a pretty bad situation and I needed the money—er, caps. It was Boss who got us into that sorta raider shit. I would have busted her out of there sooner if I could have.” I was about the add that I swore to Celestia, but that seemed a bit overdramatic.

Good. You’re improving.

“See, Ray? He ain’t so bad,” Spare Parts added.

Our words seemed to work, and the stallion’s stare, though it was still not friendly, softened. “Well... why’d you bring him here, though?” he asked.

“He s-said he needed a place to stay for the night. I thought you might have a spare room.”

“Oh, is that all?” He turned around and pulled a copper colored key from one of the boxes behind the bar, then set it in front of me. “Here, this is for the room that’s six doors down to the left as you walk out. Since you saved Spare Parts and all I won’t be chargin’ you triple for being a slaver—” At those words, Spare Parts opened her mouth to protest, but he shot her down with a harsh look. “—so that’ll be fifty caps.”

As it turned out, that was all I had on me. I dumped out my wallet and thanked them both before taking the room key and turning to leave. I might have been a bit too abrupt, but I didn’t see much point in sticking around. As I walked away I heard Spare Parts renew her earlier protesting.

“Light Ray, for the last time, he’s not a slaver if he’s saving ponies! Stop being so distrusting.”

“Look, Parts, I know you like to think the best of ponies, but be realistic for once. Nopony just up and decides to be heroic after putting up with and participatin’ in so much Celestia-dammed brutality for so long. That just don’t add up.”

“S-so what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that something’s off about him. I’m saying he’s up to somethin’...”

I wasn’t worried about that odd lump of emotion I’d felt in Spare Parts anymore. She obviously hadn’t been leading me to a trap—she was probably just nervous about me and how Light Ray would react. I settled on that as the explenation. I was too tired to keep worrying about it, anyway.

* * * * *

The room, as promised, was six doors down. It wasn’t particularly spacious, but it had a vanity with a cracked mirror and, more importantly, a bed, so I was happy. As soon as I locked the door behind me I toss all my stuff into the corner and flopped onto the bed. The mattress was nothing but a sheet wrapped over hay, but it was enough. Immediately, my eyelids felt leaded, and my body relaxed into the stiff surface. The only thing that prevented me from falling asleep right then and there was the realization that I was still Tumbleweed, but a brief burst of magic fixed that problem—I slept undisguised, because that way felt better somehow. More natural, I guess.

I didn’t have long to wonder about my preferences before my mind drifted off into a well-deserved slumber.

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Leech - Whenever experience is earned by anyone close to you, you receive 1% of what they earn, down to a minimum of 1 point of exp. You cannot level up with experience earned this way.

Author's Note

This chapter took a bit longer to get out than I anticipated, mostly because I had to make sure I was getting all that exposition exactly right. Anyways, thank you all for reading, please leave any and all comments and/or criticism you have below.

Also, thank you to Kkat for creating this universe in the first place, and all the others who have worked so hard to help expand and enrich it. You're all really awesome. /)^3^(\

Chapter 4: Garlic

“For romance, find a pirate.”

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

I saw—

—emerald eyes and a smiling face of dark chiten in front of a sea of azure crescents that all greeted me with that same warmth that hers held and I was happy so happy to feed on what they offered and it felt good and so pure and I grew and—

—we grew together and we slunk into their bodies and we ate their love and we grew and the Queen was happy but now we all long for more and we all starve but there on the horizon we see and the Queen sees and we all see such beautiful love such pure happiness and goodness and we move and the Queen moves and we all move and plan and plan and plan and we STRIKE and it BREAKS and we WIN and—

I ducked, and the Royal Guard’s beam passed harmlessly over me. His eyes widened, for that attack had been his last chance to defeat me. Now I was too close for him to do anything, and I tackled him. His golden gleaming armor protected him from damage, but not my momentum, and he toppled over. As he tried to scramble back up I opened my mouth. A gurgling erupted from the back of my throat, and my horn glowed. Before the hapless unicorn could react I spat, and green strands of waxy phlegm erupted from my mouth, glowing and expanding with magic to envelop him. I smiled as he clawed futilely at the translucent wall, and I finished weaving his prison with a final hack.

“No! Braveheart!” The shout came from behind me. I saw two more guards, pegasi this time, swoop down from the sky to try and avenge their companion. They did not get the chance. Two forms dived down upon them, knocking them to the ground, where they lay stunned.

"Haha! Some army. These ponies go down easier than a mother who thinks us their foal.” My siblings landed next to me as I spat out another prison for the two pegasi. The one who had spoken leaped atop it as soon as it hardened, posing triumphantly and extending her wings in an attempt to impress us. As usual, it did not work. “Remember this day, my brothers, it is the day we become rulers of this world!”

“Don’t get cocky, Maggy. We haven’t won yet.” At my words her smile merely widened.

“Oh please, you worry too much. There is no way we can lose. There is enough love here to feed us for an eternity, the Elements of Harmony are safely under our control, and Shining Armor has given Chrysalis more power than even Princess Celestia!” She paused, and then frowned. “And what have I told you about calling me Maggy?”

“Would you prefer Maggot, then?” the deep buzzy voice of my other sibling asked, grinning. I snickered at his joke, and Maggy fumed.

“Shut up, Fugax! I have told you both a thousand times to address me as royalty. That’s what I am after all.”

“Oh no, please forgive us your most hole-y majesty.” Fugax mocked.

Maggy had always been self-conscious about the unusually high number of holes in her legs, and I couldn’t help but burst into laughter as she turned bright red in embarrassment—well, really, it was more of a burgundy, but when your cheeks are normally pitch black that’s close enough.

“Silence! Don’t think I won’t remember your taunts when I become Queen—”

“If," I corrected. That only made her madder.

“What? If? Why you—! I should—! Uagh!” She gave up, and stomped away muttering curses under her breath. A moment before disappearing down the street corner, she turned her head to shout, “You should be glad we’re from the same spawn, if we weren’t I’d cut your wings off in your sleep!”

“We’d just grow them back,” I retorted. She gave a final huff before disappearing from view, and beside me Fugax chuckled.

“Well,” he said, “now that this part of the city is secure do you think we should go see if Vespula still needs help, or—?”

What? No! Quickly my Changelings, to me!

Without another word we both leaped into the air. Our Queen was in need, so we would go to her aid. Her panic was our panic. Behind me I felt Maggy, as well as several others, swoop up to join our formation. All of us wondered what had caused her sudden distress. Our wings filled the air with a buzz, and the tower in which our Queen was drew near.

No—!

A wave of energy emerged from the castle without any warning. It hit Fugax first, and me an instant later. We didn’t have time even to attempt to outrun it. We were pushed back and launched faster and farther than I thought possible. Before the blink of my eyes Canterlot was gone. Our triumph. The ponies’ enslavement. All that delicious love. It was all gone. Pulled out from under us without a warning.

A great despair welled up in my chest, but it lasted only a moment before being replaced by dread as the ground rushed forward to crush me.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

I jerked awake the moment before I hit, gasping. My mind reeled. That had been... what had that been?

Failure.

Canterlot. The first one. The real one. I had been there, among its golden towers and stone streets. We had been there, we Changelings, and we had almost conquered it. I remembered that now. I remembered the Queen’s planning, her infiltration, our attack. I remembered the other changelings; my siblings. Fugax, one of my Queen’s warriors. And Maggy, a rare female. Only she and the very small number of others once had the potential to become Queens of their own one day, in case Chrysalis should fall.

Tears stung my eyes, and I realized that underneath my shock at these revelations was a great sadness. I wanted to be with my Hive again. To be safe underneath the watchful mind of my Queen and to hunt and feed alongside my siblings. What had happened to them all, I wondered. Where was Chrysalis? Had Fugax and Maggy survived? In my dream I felt that I had known them both for so long, but now my memory of them grew foggy. I grasped at the fading images but nothing could stop them from seeping away. It was a horrible feeling.

No matter how hard I tried no more memory would come back. The worst part was that I still did not know how much I did not know. The invasion of Canterlot... the War... our slow death... I saw pieces of my past but not how many holes were missing.

I shook my head, and brought myself back to the present. Despite the dream, I was beautifully well rested, and my headache was long gone. I rose from the bed, and as I did I happened to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the vanity’s mirror, and it caught me by surprise. I was so used to seeing ponies that I guess I had almost started to think of myself as looking like one. But no, I looked exactly like all the other Changelings in my dream: blue crescent eyes, a black body with a small navy blue shell on my back, and silky wings that were so thin they were translucent.

All in all I looked... not bad. Not bad at all. In fact, I looked pretty darn good. I spun around and gave my wings a flap to get a more complete view. Yeah, not bad at all. My body was slick and my fangs were fierce. I was a truly elegant parasite. It was a real shame I would have to stay disguised pretty much all the time, what with there being all these ponies around. They wouldn’t appreciate my looks.

Are you...? You’re actually doing this right now, aren’t you?

Yes, definitely a shame, but admiring myself wasn’t going to get me anypony's love any time soon. Instead, I turned away from the mirror and began rummaging through my saddlebags. I took out the last of the dried meat—I hadn’t been physically hungry since I’d absorbed all that emotion from the slaves, but I liked its taste—and The Wasteland Survival Guide, and sat back down on the bed. I finally had some time to read through this, and I wasn’t going to waste another minute. If anything was going to help me to survive it would be this book. I popped a block of meat into my mouth and opened it up.

“The Wasteland Survival Guide. By Ditzy Doo,” it began, “Chapter 1: Making Use of Absolutely Everything...”

* * * * *

“...and that’s it! I know it’s not much but hopefully it will help you live a bit easier. Thanks for reading!”

“P.S. I’m working on another book. One about the history of Equestria before the war, and my goal in writing it is to figure out what exactly happened back then. Even though I was there, I've never really understood everything that happened. I’m not one of the smart ponies, unfortunately. So please, if you find any recordings, papers from back then, or anything else like that that will shed some light on what happened, bring them by New Appleloosa if you have the chance and I’ll pay you a lot for them! I’ll also put your name and story into the book if you want. Any little bit helps. Thanks!

“P.P.S. For those ponies who are curious, I’m thinking of calling the book What Went Wrong. It’s got a nice ring to, don’t you think?”

I closed the Survival Guide and rubbed my eyes with a hoof. It had been very helpful, but reading it all in one sitting had been a strain. Working through sentences and paragraphs was a lot harder than only having to read a few words on a sign, but I had forced myself through it, and I had learned a lot. Scavenging, radiation, Taint, pre-war technology, basic first-aid, how to make mines... There were also many useful tidbits about weaponry. I now knew that the gun Boss had used was a ‘shotgun,’ the one I had strapped to my leg was a ‘pistol,’ and that the armor I wore was actually called ‘barding.’ It was a good thing none of that had come up before. Knowing the lingo was crucial to fitting in.

I put the book back in my saddlebag, and next took out my weapons. I spent a good while trying to familiarizing myself with how they functioned and I found my hooves moving with some muscle memory. So I'd definitely used guns before. I kept getting more and more curious about my past. As I worked I managed to disassemble the rifle, but I broke part of its firing mechanism when I tried to put it back together. However, it hadn’t had any bullets and I wasn’t quite sure how to fight with it anyway, so it wasn’t the biggest loss. I had better luck with the pistol, though. I successfully swapped out a few parts that looked rusty for newer ones from the rifle. As for the blade on the rifle’s top, when I tried to pry it off I discovered that it had been welded to the barrel. That seemed like a pretty dumb feature, but it forced me to think of some other way to make it useable. I figured out that I could twist the right strap of my saddlebag around the rifle when I put it back on, making it into a side-mounted spear.

A pistol, a knife, a spear, and my fangs. Pitiful armaments for the Wasteland, especially when compared to the canons and grenade launchers of the Steel Rangers, but they were all I possessed. However, if I was lucky, and if I played my cards right, I would never have to use them. Deception and cunning would be my greatest weapons. My only real tools for survival.

Feed.

Hunger. That great need wormed its way into my mind again. I needed love. I needed to feed. The only problem was... where to start? I hadn’t noticed any couples when I was with Cathode or Spare Parts, and I was pretty sure I couldn’t just waltz up to anypony in Bulbs and get them to love me. The only thing I could think of doing was to just go out, wander around the facility, and see what happened. Observe, find an opportunity, and then strike. Yes, good plan. But, who to disguise as? It would be stupid to go out as Tumbleweed again, and I didn’t want to chance disguising as any of the other slavers, so that left me with either someone else from Bulbs or one of the ponies from Chard, or—ah-ha!

Bright Lights. Why hadn’t I thought of him first? He was the complete opposite of Tumbleweed: he worked for Garlic, so I wouldn’t have to worry about my safety, probably hadn’t been a slaver, so I wouldn’t have a bad reputation, and was dead, so there wasn’t even the remote chance that I’d run into him. It was perfect! I smiled, and focused my magic. Nothing happened. I frowned in confusion, and tried again. I thought of his coat color, his face, his Cutie Mark—which I remembered all too well—but no matter how hard I tried nothing happened. No flash of green. No sudden change. No disguise.

Why? Why didn’t it work? I quickly tested myself. Could I still disguise as Tumbleweed? Yes. Boysenberry? Yes. Spare Parts? Yes. Cathode? Yes, even though I’d never caught a glimpse of her Cutie Mark (it turned out to be a baton). I could disguise as all of them, but not Bright Lights. Why not him?

Dead.

Then it occurred to me: I could only disguise as ponies who were alive. That made sense. All the ponies I had just tried were alive, while Bright Lights was not. I growled softly to myself. This was inconvenient. Very inconvenient.

You have no idea.

But at least I had a better understanding of my powers... Oh well, back to the drawing board, maybe I could—? There was a knock at the door. I froze, ears swerving toward the noise. Who could that be? It must be somepony coming for Tumbleweed. It was the only reason anypony would be here! My luck had already stretched to the breaking point with him. There was no way I could have gone completely unrecognized yesterday. The knock repeated itself. I prepared to leap upon the pony who entered. If I could take them down fast enough I could probably escape without anypony else noticing—

“Mr. Tumble? You in there?” It was Spare Parts. I mentally slapped myself for being so paranoid and dawned Tumbleweed’s face without another pause. I opened the door.

What are you doing? Don’t disguise as him!

“I’m here,” I said. She looked the same as she had the day before, but now she was wrapped in an odd sort of cloth that obscured most of her features. I wouldn’t have recognized her had I not already been expecting her.

“G-good morning Mr. Tumble. I hope I didn’t interrupt you or n-nothing...” She fidgeted her hooves a bit as she spoke. She was quite the odd one.

“Good morning. What’s the cloth for?”

“Oh, this? Ih-it’s for my job. I work in the g-generator room sometimes, so I need to wear this cloth. It’s enchanted to dissipate voltage... or something. It protects me from electricity. And, uh, a-actually, that’s kinda the reason I stopped by: I wanted to ask if you’d like a job, seeing as you’re out of w-work and all...”

“A job?” I didn’t need a job. More caps wouldn’t give me love. Food and drink, maybe, but with love I wouldn’t need those. At least I was pretty sure that’s how I worked...

“Yeah. I work for Mr. Wattson, you s-see. H-he’s the pony who keeps the generator running, and he’s always l-looking for more ponies to help him keep the lighting system up and r-running. It’s mostly just repair stuff. E-easy to learn, and there’s a-always plenty to fix. So, would you be interested?”

I wasn’t, but she was giving me a hopeful look, and I figured that if there was any chance for me to milk her for more emotion I should take it. I decided to take up her offer, and she was very happy that I did. That was tasty but not filling, and moreover it was unnerving.

“Why are you still helping me?” I asked her as we walked out of the stairwell into the marketplace; she needed to pick up a few things before she could introduce me to her boss. On the way down, she had tried to start conversation with me, but since I wasn’t actually Tumbleweed all I could offer were superficial answers and lies that went nowhere. In the resulting silence her kindness nagged at me until I couldn’t contain my curiosity.

“What?” she asked, frowning.

“Tum—We enslaved you. Did terrible things to you. Almost killed you. But then you show me a place to stay, and now you’re helping me get a job. Why?”

“W-well, because you saved me.” She gave me a sad look. “You did terrible things, things I can’t forgive, but you also did something good. You were a bad pony, Mr. T-tumbleweed, but you saved us, and that means you’re trying to be good. I don’t want you to stop now that you’ve started, so I want to do what I can to help you start over as a good pony. I believe everypony deserves a s-second chance if they’re truly willing to change.”

“Well, thank you for your kindness, but that’s... incredibly naive.” Was it really? I had no idea, but that felt like the right thing to say. All I’d seen from ponies so far was hate and apathy.

“W-well, maybe, but it’s what I believe.”

“Hmm.” We didn’t speak about it further, and I followed Spare Parts absentmindedly through the market as she bought her things. So she was idealistic, and intent on helping. That was excellent. If I kept on being a ‘good pony’ and doing helpful things then I might be able to get get her to love me... eventually. That was a long term plan, but it never hurt to plan ahead.

Right now though, I still needed to focus on getting something quick. I surveyed the marketplace, my eyes darting around each stall and pony. Still not much. Another Berry Wears, a couple of Steel Rangers, and a pair of foals who darted through the legs of a vendor they’d just stolen from, but nothing more interesting. No lovebirds of any sort.

Now change before they find you more interesting.

Spare Parts was finished with her shopping, and we trotted out of the market into the vapid steel hallways. Time to see what work this Wattson had for me.

As we walked through the facility I found that the whole west side, excluding what I’d seen of the top floor, was practically abandoned, and most of its hallways were dark and light bulb-less. All the rooms we passed on this side were empty, picked clean by generations of thorough scavenging. The only things that remained were grafitti and the occasional motivational posters that still clung to the walls, preserved by some old spell. They all said the same basic thing: “The work you do here serves all of Equestria!” or some other such inspirational phrase. Most had pictures of ‘average’ worker ponies either smiling at their station on an assembly line or posing confidently above a bin of harvested grain. A unique one stood out, however. A poster with the words “We can do it!” above the image of an orange earth pony with blonde hair and freckles who stood proudly in front of a line of Steel Rangers.

Applejack. One of them.

Applejack. The sight of this mare angered me, raising more memories of death and defeat, and I tore it from the wall without a second thought, smashing it underhoof. Spare Parts gasped.

“What the hay was that for?”

“I... it’s personal. She reminded me of somepony I hate. Sorry.” She gave me a worried look, but we moved on without further discussion.

A few minutes later I almost did the same thing to a poster that said “Pinkie Pie is watching you FOREVER!” but that time it was because the mare it portrayed was staring at me with a smile that was just creepy. Much creepier than a motivational poster had any right to be, as Spare Parts put it.

She used to be such an amusing one before she went insane... but that’s beside the point. You need stop being a wanted pony before somepony recognizes you.

It was a short while after that when we finally made it to the generator room. Here it was that all the wires strung throughout the facility converged into one massive snaking column. They lead into the room, and the lights they connected to ended abruptly at its entrance, leaving the rest of the hallway in darkness.

What are you doing? Can’t you hear me?

“Here we are,” said Spare Parts as she stepped through the doorway. I followed her in, and as I did I felt the charge in the air start to raise the hairs on my body. A pony stood atop a large cylindrical machine that dominated most of the room and filled it with a high whirring. He wore the same magical cloth as Spare Parts underneath a saddlebag overflowing with various implements. Several computer terminals were set up in the room. Most of them were dark and pillaged but a few still displayed some incomprehensible readings.

The stallion was busy tinkering with the machine as we entered, so all I could see of him was a few patches of an electric blue coat beneath the layers of old cloth and a bright yellow tail that wagged in the air as he worked. Its color matched that of the tape that held the chord of wires in place on the floor as they attached themselves into the machine.

“Hello Mr. Wattson!” Spare Parts called out above the machine’s whirring, “I found an-nother pony who can help with repairs and whatnot.” She flashed me a smile as the stallion paused in his work and turned an ear back toward us.

“Really? Well praise Celestia! Who is he?” His words were raspy, dry, and somewhat garbled by the wrench he held in his mouth. As he turned around I saw that most of the hair on his muzzle had been burned away, replaced by scar tissue. It made my lips hurt just looking at it.

“My name’s Tumbleweed—” I started. The moment I said that name Wattson’s eyes went wide. He let out shocked screech and hurled the wrench at me before I could react. It smacked me right between the eyes, and I froze briefly before crumpling to the floor. My world went black.

I finally get a moment of clarity and you waste it by not listening!

...please... don’t get yourself killed again...

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

I landed in a bush, scratched up but alive. Whatever magic had purged us from Canterlot also prevented us from dying upon impact all those miles away. I lay there for a moment in a daze as everything that had just happened sank in. So close... so close... I reached out to my siblings, hoping to find comfort in their midsts, but all that met me was an emptiness. No other minds were there. I shoved myself up, a chill of fear sweeping through me as I realized that I was cut off from the rest of the hive; we must have become scattered in the explosion. I looked around. Unfamiliar vegetation surrounded me. I was in a jungle, probably somewhere south of Equestria... beyond that I did not know. I was alone. Lost. Cut of from the hive. Cut off from my Queen—

My breath came in gasps. I didn’t know what to do, or where to go. Where was my Queen? She would fix this. Please let her find me. The silence in my mind grew deafening. I needed my brothers, my sisters, my Queen. Where were they? Where was she? Help, please, I—

...my Queen, help me...

Another changeling? Maggy! My panic vanished as I recognized her, and I leaped toward the source of her call. As I ran I swept my mental tendrils around once more, hoping to find another, but none appeared. It did not matter. One was infinitely better than none at all.

“Maggy!” I shouted as I reached her, “I’m so happy you’re—” I stopped when I saw her. Her landing had not been as gentle as mine. I could see from some scrape marks and debris that she had crashed into a tree on the way down. Her right foreleg was clutched to her side in pain, probably broken, and her left wing hung limply at her side, shredded by the branch she had hit. “Mother help us...” I whispered.

“It... doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks,” Maggy said, pained, “I’m so glad you’re here. I thought I was alone at first and I...” She squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering. “I was so scared that I was alone...” I nodded. We had both felt the same despair and sadness. We grew together, hunted together, fed together. We did not want to be alone. It was a terrible thing to be alone. But we were not alone now. Now we had a chance.

Maggy could not walk nor even hover, so we had no other options but to have me carry her. It took some effort, but I was able to levitate her onto my back. I took a moment to rest after the exertion. Our magic was weak right now. We had not had a large meal in quite a while.

“Canterlot would have been our meal,” Maggy muttered.

“I know,” I replied, “But we will never have a good meal again unless we get back to the swarm. Do you have any idea where the rest are?”

“Maybe...”

She had managed to catch a glimpse of the others falling to a place to the northwest, so that was the direction we set out in. It was slow going, and whenever we encountered a hill I had to rest quite a while at the top of it, but I managed to carry Maggy without much trouble. Until I heard the roar. It came as we were walking through a particularly dense part of the jungle. The underbrush rubbed against my legs as I walked, and as soon as I heard the terrifying sound I froze. I panted loudly through my nostrils in the muggy air as I listened for any other noise.

There was a squelching sound to my left, and I jumped out of the way only a moment before something huge leaped through the leaves of a large bush. Maggy fell off my back with a suppressed scream, and I leaped into the air as I turned to see what had attacked us. Its claw swept through the space I had been in a moment before, and my eyes widened when I saw it.

The beast was a fusion of creatures. It had the face of a lion, but with green nostrils and reptilian eyes and blue fur that went back to its torso. The rest of it was coated in purple scales, and its tail made a cracking sound as it whipped through the air. It roared and leaped up at me, and I dropped beneath it, aiming for Maggy, but it slashed a paw downward. Though my natural armor protected me from its claws I still hit the ground hard. In the few seconds I had to spare I lowered my head and tried to roll Maggy back onto my back, but I wasn’t fast enough. The beast slammed into me, and its claws sunk into my sides. I screamed and jerked around as we tumbled forward, managing to wrench them out of me as we came to a stop.

I rolled to my feet, but streams of green poured out my sides, and I felt weak; sluggish. Those claws had gone deep—they glistened with my blood. The beast came back slower this time, seeing my injury and knowing he had the advantage. I tried to out maneuver him, or at least draw him away from Maggy, but he was too quick. I tried to juke him; he slapped me back. I tried to bite him; he retreated faster than I could attack. I tried to fly up; the pain in my sides drove me down. The dense brush did nothing to help me in this fight.

Quickly he drove me back to Maggy. As a final effort, I summoned up my magic and spat a glob of phlegm at him, but he chewed through the green prison even as it formed around him. He slashed at me again, and I was not fast enough to dodge. I fell down next to Maggy, beaten. I was too tired to try any more. Too hurt. My blood was everywhere now. Green coating green vegetation. Making it glisten ever so slightly. I couldn’t hear anything but my breath.

I’m sorry, Maggy.

No, I’m sorry—

The beast was over us now, baring his teeth for the kill. I struggled to see clearly. My vision was getting spotty. Something happened. A green splatter. Then a sudden sizzling sound. The beast howled, clutching at its face and turning around. Another green splatter. Another sizzle. Another howl. The beast ran, its flesh burning where it had been struck by the acidic ooze.

Fugax...

“I’m here,” he said. His voice was near, and suddenly I felt my strength return. “Here. This is for you two.” Love energy flowed into me, restoring my sight and closing my wounds. I gasped as the rush hit me, and sprung up onto my feet. I hugged Fugax without thinking. He patted me on the back and chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, brother, you’re safe, and the Hive is near.”

“Thank you,” I heard Maggy say. I broke the hug and turned back to her. Her leg was healed, but the energy had not been enough to fix her wing. But that was okay, we were together. We were okay now.

“Where are they?” I asked. “Where did all that love come from.” Such good love... such delicious power. Fugax smiled mischievously.

“You needn’t savor it, brother, there is plenty more.” Images flashed through our minds. The Queen had landed. She was enraged. The Hive was enraged. But they found themselves in a strange place. Love. Love everywhere. A land of bunnies who did nothing but spread happiness and joy. They welcomed the Hive without a second thought. They were kind. They were loving. They were delicious. Maggy and I smiled. We might have lost Equestria, but we had stumbled upon a bounty. We would no longer desperate for food. Now the Queen plotted revenge.

Oh yes, my changelings, we no longer need to conquer for love. Now we conquer for power!

My heart fluttered at the sound of my Queen’s voice. She filled our minds with images of sweet revenge. Of power unending. Of a feast everlasting. Yes, we may have been defeated, but we would make those ponies pay!

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

I woke to a throbbing head and a tightness around my neck that had me continually on the verge of gagging. The first sensation was no doubt from that wrench I’d taken to the face, but the second surprised me. I panicked as I tried to looked down and feel what was around my neck, and I panicked more when I realized it was a bomb collar. How desperately I wished this life were the dream and not my foggy memories.

“Hey Onion, Tumblefuck’s awake.”

The voice made me focus on my surroundings. I was on the ground, in a hallway I didn’t recognize—though they all looked the same here, so that point was moot—and in addition to the collar I could feel the weight of shackles around my hooves. In front of me I could see a smirking mare. Her coat was a dirty velvet, and her form was bulky and imposing. She had a rifle on her back and two shotguns strapped to her sides, while a pistol bobbed loosely in her magic. I heard the pony she had been speaking to reply from somewhere behind me.

“Is he? Good, now you won’t have to drag his sorry ass all the way back, Morning Bell.”

I managed, with much loud clanking, to roll myself over and see who had spoken. It was a ginger-orange stallion wielding a battle saddle, and he was talking to Wattson. We were only just outside the generator room. Apparently I hadn’t been out long enough for them to move me very far.

“What about the girl?” Wattson barked. I saw from his expression that the conversation they had been having had not been a pleasant one. “Yer gunna take away one of mah workers and still not give me shit fer hoofin’ this bastard to ya?” He flicked a hoof at me as he spoke, but didn’t even bother to look in my direction.

“Look, old man,” Onion said, “I don’t care what you say, she tried to stop both us and you from taking Tumbleweed back to Garlic. If she survives then she can work again, if not we’ll give you another worker for your... ‘assistance’ in his capture. Now get back to work before we suffer another power outage.”

“Aw, fuck you! Ah keep this damn place lit and nopony so much as thanks me fer it!” I didn’t hear the rest of his rant. I was distracted by the sight of Spare Parts. I noticed her only after Onion had mentioned her trying to defend me. Her body lay just inside the generator room, only her legs and saddlebag visible through the doorway. Around her I could see blood slowly pooling and staining the cloth she wore dark red. I was shocked. They had shot her. She’d... had she really tried that hard to save me? She didn’t even have a weapon. She really was an idealist...

Or she’s having a sever case of Stockholm Syndrome.

I guess that was a possibility too... Wait. Where did that voice come from?

...you mean you haven’t been hearing me this whole time!?

What? Hearing? Who is—?

“Hey, Tumblefuck! Ain’t ya listenin’?” I yelped as the mare kicked me. I craned my neck back to glare at her but that only resulted in another kick. I was starting to hate this pony. “Now come on, get up! We ain’t got all day.”

I obeyed. Before I could wonder about the fate of Spare Parts or what agreement Wattson and Onion had come to I was pulled forward by a tug from the unicorn’s magic. She marched me back through the facility, the orange stallion following close behind. I was naked except for the shackles and the bomb collar, which did not let me breathe comfortably. The absence of my saddlebags set me more on edge. Did Onion have them? Had Wattson stolen them? I didn’t know.

Again I found myself in the marketplace, but this time I was unable to pass by unnoticed. Ponies stared with uncaring eyes as Morning Bell led me to the large gate. A few looked at my collar with concern, but after glancing at who was escorting me they went on with their life. Something told me I wasn’t the first pony to wear a bomb collar around here.

When we reached the gate, Morning Bell barked at the guards to open it, and they obeyed without a second thought. They cranked the massive door open with a great clattering sound, and once again I was faced with the desolation of the Wasteland.

We walked straight; toward the hills I had spotted a day earlier. As we neared them I was left with nothing else to do but worry. What would happen to me? Would Garlic kill me? Would I be a slave? Would I be forced to do… whatever it is ponies do as slaves? Ghastly images dredged themselves from the recesses of my amnesic mind, and I knew then and there that a life of slavery would be nothing but short and brutal. I needed to escape. I needed to get out of this body and never go back. Spare Parts was dead; there would never be another reason to put it back on.

We were alone out here. It was just me and these two ponies. Morning Bell was walking easily in front of me. If I could get the drop on her, then I could probably take out the stallion behind me without suffering any serious wounds. I still had the surprise of flight and fangs on my side. Yes, this could work! Except…

The weight of the bomb collar pressed down upon me. No matter how fast I was, I couldn’t incapacitate my captors before they blew my head off. I lowered my head in resignation. I hadn’t seen Morning Bell with any sort of trigger, but that just meant Onion probably had it. That made sense. That was probably why he was walking behind me. He could kill me before I so much as turned around.

I was hopeless. I was going to die, I was sure of it. Die or be worked to death, just like that one slave had said happened to ponies under Red Eye, whoever he was. I could see no way out of this that wasn’t death.

* * * * *

The first I saw of Garlic’s Plantation were the watchtowers. Two stood at its entrance, built as part of the wooden fence that surrounded this massive compound. The fence was at least as long as Bulbs was, and it stretched even further back into the hills. More towers were at each corner, and I could glimpse a few placed haphazardly inside. They weren’t particularly tall, but they stood out because they were the most obviously reinforced. The fence looked sturdy, to be sure, but it was only made of wood. The towers were constructed from a patchworks of metal plates and old rail tracks reinforced by many steel rods.

I saw ponies aiming guns at me from those towers as we approached the main gate. It was of simple make: just wheels put on a split section of fence with more ponies standing guard in front. I heard them make a few snide comments about my fate as we passed by, but I tried my best to ignore them. I didn’t want to hear about what sort of tortures I might go through. My mind was providing enough paranoia fuel as it was.

The inside of the compound was surprisingly bare. Most of it was an open field filled with rows of crops in various stages of growth, some of which were blooming flowers. Their bright colors were in sharp contrast to the ponies who tended them. Many had bomb collars as I did, but some only had shackles, and a small few worked unencumbered. The guards in the towers watched all of them. The only flat land that wasn’t being used as farmland was the road we were walking on. It split the plantation down the middle and ran straight back into the hills, where I could see the cluster of buildings I was being lead to.

There were more guards there, lollygagging at their posts, and they reacted the same as the ones at the gate had, except for one pony. He must have recognized me, because he kicked me in the stomach as I passed by. I collapsed to the ground in pain. It hadn’t been that hard of a kick, but I hadn’t been expecting it at all. After a painful prod from Onion I pulled myself back up with a whimper, eliciting some laughter from the guards around me.

Finally, Morning Bell lead me through the door of the largest building, and after a short march through a hallway we arrived in what I could only think of as a poor king’s court. Four pillars held up the room, and on each was an old rotted skull that looked down on whoever was in the center. Two guards sat in front of a raised platform at the back that held a decaying wooden throne whose top was adorned with dried stems of lavender. A few polished guns and swords had been mounted on the back wall, along with another skull, but the presence of so few odd trinkets only made the room seem sparser.

An ugly brown carpet had been rolled out on the ground before the throne, serving as a stage for whomever had audience with the pony sitting there. Garlic. The moment Morning Bell lead me into the room he stood up from his seat, smiling gleefully. He was... smaller than I had expected. With the way Bright Lights and Cathode had talked about him, I thought he would be imposing; impressive; somepony with obvious power and charisma. Maybe the drabness of the room was hurting my first impression, but as I met eyes with him I could only think of how unassuming he looked. Bland, even.

The unicorn wore a spotty white mane with a cream coat, had faded magenta eyes, and had a Cutie Mark that matched his name. That was all.

“Well, look who we have here!” I now stood on the stage before him, and he grinned widely down at me from his seat. Morning Bell and Onion had taken up flanking positions around me. There was no way I was getting out of this now. “I’ve been looking forward to this day, Tumbleweed. I don’t think you appreciate what you’ve done to me.” He had no idea.

He paused as if expecting an answer. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

He continued, “You raid my stores, ruin my crops, kill my guards... why, you nearly cost me a good fraction of last season’s harvest thanks to your little outburst. But it’s the fact that you got away that really did it, you know?” I didn’t. I couldn’t really follow anything he was saying. I was just confused. Confused and terrified at what this pony might do to me. How he might hurt me. “You humiliated me, Tumbleweed. You made a fool out of my organization, and I don’t like that sort of thing.” He stopped smiling then, and his guards started to close in on me. My pupils shrank. All the bad thoughts I had on the way here resurged.

“I should stop wasting my breath,” he said, his voice was no longer mocking. Now it was cold and malicious. “You were an embarrassing mark on my record, but nothing more. Now you won’t even be that.” His guards closed in, holding me still, and Garlic stepped down from his throne. Before I knew what was happening Morning Bell and one of the guards I didn’t know pulled me back onto my hind legs, allowing Garlic to buck me in the stomach for all he was worth. He was worth quite a lot, apparently.

I gasped in silent agony, clutching myself on the ground as I coughed up blood—from the way Onion backed away from the pool I could only assume they thought it was vomit. Garlic delivered another kick to my back, and then tried to stomp at my head. I hated being hurt and humiliated like this. I wanted to kill him. Kill him like I had killed that raider. I rolled feebly out of way and tried to rise to my hooves, but one of the guards pushed me back down. I heard Morning Bell laugh. I’d kill her too. Again Garlic raised his hoof to pulverize me, but as I raised an arm over my head in defense a voice cut through the room.

“Garly, darling!” it called. It was high and feminine. “Are you done yet? You’re supposed to be taking me out to the range by now!” It was also really whiny.

I managed to look up from where I lay on the ground, the voice having stopped Garlic’s attack, and saw the mare it belonged to. She was well groomed, a stunning shade of scarlet, and had Garlic’s full attention. He trotted up to her without a pause, giving her a nuzzle as he spoke. “I’m busy, dear. This will only take a few more moments. This is that Tumbleweed who robbed us last harvest, remember?” He turned back to smirk at me. “And now he’s going to work off what he owes us. For the rest of his miserable life.” The mare at Garlic’s side just giggled.

“Oh, him? Is that all? Well, Garly, hurry up. I’ve been bored all day. You know how much I hate that,” she said. Beside me I heard Onion groan under his breath.

“Don’t worry, dear, I’m almost done. Go out and wait for me. I’ll be right there.” He gave her a final nuzzle before she turned to go back out the side door she had come from.

I hadn’t been able to do anything but gawk at the couple for the duration of their conversation. Love. I felt love. Not just affection, real love. Garlic had radiated it when Tulip entered, sent it toward her in a torrent that was irresistible. I needed that love. Unfortunately, when Garlic saw my expression his good feelings vanished.

“Don’t you dare look at my precious Tulip like that!” he snapped. He gave me a few more vicious kicks before he finally felt satisfied. He stepped back with a chuckle as I lay curled up in pain, my brief excitement nullified. What was the point of this?

“Well, now that you’ve learned your lesson, I must thank you,” he suddenly said as Onion pulled me back to my feet, “For offing Bright Lights, that is. I’m pretty sure he was working for Silverbeet behind my back. Too bad you had to take out his brother, too, though. I rather liked that colt.”

With that, he trotted out after Tulip, leaving his guards to lead me limping back out the way we came. I didn’t think too much on Garlic’s last comment. I was too busy being in pain.

Feed.

But that didn’t matter, because now I finally had a chance to get some love! Revenge could wait. I wouldn’t kill Garlic right away. First I would suck out every last ounce of good feeling he’d ever had. My mouth watered as I thought of how delicious all that love would be. A real meal, after all this time! I couldn’t help but smile, even as Morning Bell locked me into a holding cell. I finally had a chance. I would finally be able to feed.

Feed!

* * * * *

I was not alone in the cell they threw me in, a stallion who was a lighter shade of grey than I lay in the back. He stirred when I entered, but did not talk until the guards had walked out of earshot. Immediately I started to scrutinize the whole of my confinement, vague plans about taking Tulip’s place already forming in my head. My earlier despair had vanished now that I was within reach of a good meal.

“If yer lookin’ fer a way out, you won’t find one,” the stallion said. He had bags under his eyes, and his flank was carved with scars. He sounded as beaten as he looked. “Trust me. Seen enough ponies try.”

“I’m not a pony,” I muttered without thinking. Luckily he didn’t seem to hear. “So, uh, how did you end up here?” I asked. I was curious about how Garlic got so many slaves. The ponies I’d met in Bulbs didn’t seem like they would tolerate such blatant cruelty on their doorstep. Or maybe I was just projecting old Equestrian morals onto them. That time was all I seemed to remember, anyway.

“Killed some buck who owed me caps. Turns out he was one a’ Garlic’s better guards—the old Garlic, not his whipped bastard of a son—so the fucker had me dragged up here t’ work. Been doin’ that ever since.” So this was the equivalent of a jail sentence. Interesting. The stallion sighed, letting his body sink back down onto the floor. “What’d you do?”

“I... you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” His laugh was a dry heave.

“Well, whatever you did couldn’t have been that bad; still got yer tongue.”

“My tongue?”

“Sure. Jr. usually cuts out yer tongue if you piss him off. Makes him seem scary.”

“Mm.” I guess I must have gotten lucky. Not that it would have hurt much in the long run, I could always grow it back again—wait, how did I know that? And how would I even do that?

More questions, and no way to get answers except maybe in my foggy dreams. I snorted in frustration as I pushed my nose through the bars of the cell. The bomb collar I could slip out of in a smaller form, but these bars would be too narrow to fit through, even as a foal. I pulled back, rested my head against a bar, and glared at the ground for a while before getting an idea.

“So,” I asked, turning to look at the buck on the ground, “What do you know about Tulip?” Since I was stuck here, I might as well use this time to try and get some information.

“What? Tulip? The hell do you care about her?”

“I’m curious. What’s she like? Garlic seemed to like her a lot.”

“You don’t say,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “That bitch has her dick so far up Garlic’s ass she could use him as a puppet. The bastard don’t care about anypony but her—like I said, the boy's whipped.”

How poetic...

“I... see...” I replied. I didn’t ask any more questions. I’d probably find out more if I spied on her for a bit. I just needed to get out of here first...

* * * * *

The building we were in was at the base of a hill, near the back of the plantation. From what I’d seen when they brought me here, this place was nothing but rooms of cells and guards. The cell we were in was the only one currently occupied, but I had a feeling we would get neighbors soon. It was getting dark.

My hunch was confirmed some time later, and I was left cramped in the cell with five more ponies, each jostling for a slightly more comfortable position on the ground. In the end, I was forced to sleep standing up, because I was the new guy. I could deal with that. I didn’t plan to be sleeping here for much longer.

I would feed soon.

Yes! Feed!

* * * * *

“—up! Get up, you lazy fuckheads!” A crack of lightning jolted me out of my sleep. I blinked in the early morning darkness, trying to see what was going on. Morning Bell stood in front of our unlocked cell, waving us forward with a floated shotgun. There was another crack of lightning, and I jumped when it struck, my eyes snapping to its source. Another guard stood at the end of the room, a whip held between a vicious grin. He cracked it a third time as we skirted past him, lead by Morning Bell.

“Sweet Celestia!” she cried, “Cut that shit out, Daffodil! Yer gunna take somepony’s fuckin’ eye out.” Both his grin and the whip fell immediately.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Outside, the first light of day was barely creeping through the distant cloud cover. The air was cold and the dirt was damp, and my hoof squished down into a particularly soft spot as Morning Bell escorted us out to one of the fields. This one was full of yellow flowers. There was a cart there, full of empty jugs and barrels of what I assumed was water. Silently, the crowd of slaves made their way past the cart’s guards and began grabbing jugs for themselves. I looked back at Morning Bell, who was watching us with a sleepy expression. She caught my look and raised an eyebrow.

“What do I do?” I asked. She slowly rolled her eyes.

“Get a jug an’ water the rows. And kill any pests ya’ find.”

“Pests?”

“Yeah. Radroaches, gnats, those fuckin’ snakes.” She yawned. “That sorta thing.”

“Do I get, like, a hammer or something to deal with them?” I did NOT want any more snake guts on my hooves.

“Fuck no! You think I’m stupid? Now hurry up, these plants ain’t gunna grow themselves.” I was pretty sure that plants did grow themselves but I knew better than to correct her, and so I shambled forward without another word to start the watering.

* * * * *

The work was tiring. When I first saw the rows of crops, it did not seem like I would have much to do, but going back and forth between the water and the plants while constrained by shackles made it much harder than it should have been. My mouth ached from carrying the water jug for so long, and my hooves were grimey from the two roaches I’d had to squish. At least I wasn’t being shot at. I’d seen one of the other slaves get hungry and try to take a bite out of one of the flowers, but the guards in the watchtower had sent a bullet through his ear the moment he’d tried. His was coat still splattered with drying blood.

Worst of all, we did not get bathroom breaks. Everything reeked of manure.

At least the work had given me time to think. I needed to get out of sight for a moment—just a moment—and then I could escape. It wouldn’t be that hard. Change into a filly, slip out of these restraints, then change into a guard. I could see it in my head, but how could I do it? There was nowhere to hide out here... I would just have to hope for an opportunity...

No hope. Make your own opportunity.

As I made my way close by a guard tower I heard a noise. Faint music drifted down, and as I approached it grew briefly louder before it died down. From the silence it left a voice rose and said,

“Ah Sweetie Belle, her music truly is timeless, isn’t it? But enough of the old repeats—time for some news! Sad news, unfortunately. I’m sorry to have to report this, folks, but the Appaloosan Avengers are no longer with us. They went out slaying slavers just as they always did, and they took a damn good bunch out too, but the sad truth is they’re gone. We’ll miss ya’, Stock and Core.” There was a moment of silence. One of the guards coughed.

“So anyway,” the voice continued, “if you’re living near Applaloosa, you might want to clear out because there’s nothing keeping those bastards at bay any more. Stay safe, dear listeners and if you’re down south look out for Steel Rangers. There’s rumors that some are causing trouble way down there. Thanks for listening!”

As the speaker finished another song started, slow and mournful, and I continued down the row I was on before I got punished for stopping. I had realized about halfway through the speech that the voice had been coming from a radio, and also that I recognized it—DJ Pon3, whoever that was. I’d probably listened to him before, I figured. The song was familiar too. I was able to hum a bit of the chorus a moment before it started. Now if only I could remember something useful...

I would tell you if you would listen!

I stopped and jerked my head up, looking around. Had someone said something?

Yes!

I thought I’d heard a voice... Whatever. I shook my head to clear it and continued on. Maybe if I worked hard enough they would let me back into the cell early. I could probably take just one guard by surprise. I picked up the pace, trotting quickly back and forth instead of ambling along like most other ponies here. It didn’t speed things up enough though; there were just too many plants. Too many rows. Too much work. And I was getting antsy. Love was so close. It would be so simple. So simple to jump in as Tulip, feed off Garlic, and slink away. I just had to get free.

I never should have disguised as Tumbleweed. I should have ignored Spare Parts and disguised as somepony safe, like Boysenberry.

Should have listened... Can’t you hear me?

Again I thought I heard a voice, but again there was nothing when I stopped.

* * * * *

It was noon when we finally got a break. I lapped greedily at the trough of water they set on the road until I was pushed away. Though I had managed to sneak a few sips from the water jug as I worked, they had not been enough. I had been parched. I guess I did not depend on love as much as I thought.

I sat and panted, licking the last drops of water from my lips, when I noticed Morning Bell walking toward me. “You’re lucky, Tumblefuck, yer done t’day.”

“Done?”

“Yep. Onion wants ya in th’ kitchen. Now get, I don’t want mah dinner t’ be late.” She waved a pistol back in the direction of the buildings, and I started walking slowly back alone. When I was close enough, one of the guards there stopped me and demanded to know what I was doing. I told him what Morning Bell had told me and, after giving me an odd look, he showed me to the kitchen. I did not have an opportunity to jump him. The walk was short, and other guards were about.

“Good, she remembered,” Onion said when I entered. The other guard nodded to him before leaving, and then shut the door behind him. This was a large kitchen, with many sinks and stoves, but we were the only ones in it. Us and about a dozen sacks of potatoes slumped against the back wall. Excellent. I opened my mouth slightly in preparation to strike—

“What are you plotting?” The question floored me.

“What?” He... couldn’t know. Could he? Did he have a changeling sense or something?

“You. You waltzed back into Bulbs without even trying to disguise yourself, then hardly put up a fight when you get caught. I mean, shit, I thought I was going to have to kill you before we even got to Garlic. What the hell are you up to, Tumbleweed?” He was frowning at me, looking genuinely curious, but with his battle saddle aimed at my head.

“I, uh, I’m—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What... what did he think I could be doing as just a normal pony?

He didn’t speak for quite some time after I responded. I grew nervous.

Finally, he sighed. “Well, whatever. Keep your secrets. If you try anything we’ll kill you, but that wasn’t the reason I called you in here.” He gestured toward the potato sacks. “We just traded for bunch of these, and I figured that since they’re your special talent you’d be able to cook ‘em the best. Now, there’s supplied in the cabinets, so get started on dinner; some more cooks’ll join you in a bit. And don’t fuck up on purpose. Garlic might kill you for that. You know how uh... frivolous he is.” With that he trotted back to the door, keeping his eyes on me as he did. Before he closed the door he stuck his head back in and said, “Oh, and, fair warning, if you leave this kitchen before dinner time, you'll be whipped. And Daffodil's been itching to make scars for quite a while.” Then he left.

I glanced around my surroundings. Besides the threats of pain and death, I was actually in quite a good position. Without waiting I changed into one of the foals I’d seen running around Bulbs, shedding my guise of Tumbleweed along with the shackles and bomb collar it had bought me. Next, I disguised as one of the guards I’d seen at the front gate the day before, and then dumped my constraints into a large pot I found in one of the cabinets. That was easier than I’d imagined.

Now, to get that love.

I walked out of the kitchen, getting a curious look from the guard standing outside it, but I ignored him and began wandering through the Plantation’s buildings. I walked quickly, as if I had somewhere to be, and took in my surroundings. The building with Garlic’s ‘court’ was in the middle of this place, and the kitchen I’d come from was just behind it. The jail/slave pen was near the northwestern corner, and what I discovered was a barracks for the guards was at the compound’s opposite end. Not many ponies were here, and I could see why. It had beds, toilets, and not much else. This was not a home, just a pace to sleep.

Nearby, in an old shed, I found my saddlebags. They still had the Survival Guide and that strange orb I’d picked up, but my weapons were nowhere to be seen. Dammit. I really wanted those knives back. There were several other bags here. I looked through them, but I didn’t see anything I wanted. Also in the shed was rope, some nails, a few tools, and many other farming implements. Nothing that I could see helping me. I grabbed my bags and walked away before somepony came along and got suspicious.

Suddenly, I heard raised voices and general commotion from the direction of the kitchen. Somepony must have noticed Tumbleweed’s absence. Without waiting to see if I was right or not, I fled to the only place I knew nopony would look: skyward. With no one else around, I undisguised and leaped into the air, flapping rapidly up into the top of the barracks building. I crouched low and stayed near the center. There was no way I could be seen up here. It was a flat roof, and the watchtowers were too far away to see onto it.

I heard ponies run back and forth below me, their shouts confirming my assumption. I didn’t have much to do up here but wait until they calmed down—

Darkness.

—or until darkness came and I could safely move about. In fact, that would probably be the ideal time to replace Tulip. Find where she slept, drag her away at night, and then replace her by morning. Of course, that would still leave the matter of how to keep her out of the picture... I frowned, now regretting not taking that rope. Well then, that was the plan: Wait until night, get the rope, kidnap Tulip, then get love from Garlic. Simple, and straightforward. All I had to do now was wait.

...

Waiting was hard.

Bored, I dumped out the two contents of my saddlebags in front of me and started perusing the Survival Guide again. When I got tired of that, I started rolling the crystal ball between my hooves for a bit, wondering what it was.

Magic. Memories.

Magic? The word had popped into my head suddenly. I stopped rolling the ball and stared intently at it, focusing. If my dreams were any indication, then I had once known more spells than just disguising, and it would definitely help if I expanded my arsenal. Maybe I could try that spell from my dreams? No, my gurgling might make too much noise, and I’d leave a mess. Levitation, then? I furrowed my brow, imagining the ball lifting up into the air in front of me while channeling magic into my horn.

Nothing. I wasn’t do it right. I could feel my magic there, building up, but I couldn’t channel it around the orb. Maybe if I thought of it differently? Maybe if—

A gunshot broke my concentration. I dared to peek over the edge of the building’s top, and squinted past the light of the setting sun to see who was shooting. It was Tulip. She was at the edge of a clearing some distance behind the barracks, leaning over a table with a rifle between her hooves. She was aiming at a set of targets at the other end of the clearing—one of which was a hole-ridden old mannequin—and wagging her tail happily as she fired another round. I calmed down and moved back to the center of the roof. So that’s what she had meant by ‘range.’ Interesting hobby.

I returned to trying to coax magic out of myself, this time attempting to just turn one of Survival Guide’s pages, until night fell. I was not successful, but by then the ruckus of ‘Tumbleweed’s’ disappearance had died down. I now had the cover of darkness to sneak around undisguised. Excellent.

Feed.

* * * * *

As it turned out, my plan to just saunter in and ‘kidnap Tulip’ was not as straightforward as I first thought it to be.

First of all, I didn’t know where she slept, and when I tried to go sleuthing around the main building to find out I was stalled by the presence of a night guard standing at the front entrance. While I looked for some other way to get in, I was almost caught twice by two ponies who were patrolling this part of the plantation. Luckily the lamps they carried were dim, and I was able to sneak softly into the shadows before they could notice me.

However, after a while I did manage to find an unattended side door. Once I was through, I found that it lead straight out into the faux-throne room. Garlic, apparently, did not believe in home security. There were no guards inside, and I trotted quickly across the empty place down the hallway I’d seen him exit. I felt a faint soreness in my gut as I passed through.

The hallway itself split into two directions. One lead straight into a terrible-smelling bathroom, while the other lead to a hallway with a single window and a steel-reinforced door at its end. It was an odd security measure—the rest of this building was wood, so it would be easy to blow down a side wall and bypass the door entirely—but it told me what I needed to know: this was Garlic’s room. That, and the large wooden cutout of his Cutie Mark that hung above the doorframe. There was also a cutout of a tulip set beside it, but it was an obviously recent addition.

I tested the knob, finding it locked, and pressed an ear to the door, on the off-chance I might catch some conversation. I didn’t hear any talking, but I did catch a moan followed by a few muffled yelps and giggles. I was confused for a moment at what I was listening in on, but as soon as my mind decided to divulge that information I backpedaled as fast as I could while still making no noise.

Well then. I would be doing none of that as Tulip, no sir! Get love, kill the bastard, get out. No dilly-dally.

But that had left me in a predicament. Since the two slept together, that meant I couldn’t take her at night, and if I tried to capture her during the day, then I risked being discovered in the act. I sat at the edge of the hallway divide, trying to solve this problem, until I heard the door opening at the end of the hall. I retreated into the courtroom, crouching low to the ground. It was almost pitch-black in here. What little light spilled in from the window did not make it out very far.

A vague silhouette walked into my view, turning quickly toward the bathroom and banging the door shut after it. I crept quickly forward, making sure nopony else was coming from Garlic’s room. I pressed my ear to the bathroom door with baited breath, and my heart leapt when I head Tulip muttering to herself.

“...record, he says! As if—I swear, if it weren’t for the fact that the bastard’s my ticket to the easy life I would have left this disgusting place ages ago...”

Excellent! I didn’t wonder why a perfectly sane mare was expositing pointlessly to herself in the middle of the night, nor I didn’t care! She had just done the hard part of my job for me. Now all I had to do was knock her out when she came back out and drag her away. Then I’d have a whole day to suck up love—Excellent!

No. Memory.

Then an even better idea struck me. I slunk back into the courtroom, pressing myself against a wall, but placed the crystal orb I’d found at the very edge of the hallway. It gleamed in the window’s light just perfectly, and would catch Tulip’s eye just as it had caught mine when the raiders had used it. This would give me a greater advantage. If I had just stood outside the door, she might have had time to scream upon seeing me. Now she would be distracted. She wouldn’t see me coming at all.

I heard the door open only a few minutes later, and I prepared myself to pounce.

“Huh? What’s that?” I heard her say. Her hoofsteps neared, and I took in a silent breath. Just a few more feet. “Is this what—?” I caught a faint glow of magic from her horn, and suddenly she cut off. A moment later there were a pair of loud thuds, and the orb rolled out from the hallway. I leaped around, confused but ready to attack, and found Tulip sprawled on the floor, eyes open but unfocused. I stared in shock for a moment, looking from her to the orb and back again, before deciding not to waste this stroke of fortune and roll with what had just happened.

I placed the orb, which I now knew must be some sort of magical trap—thank the Queen I hadn’t been able to levitate it!—back into my saddlebags, and dragged the hypnotized mare out of sight before tying her up with the ropes. I was taking no chances here, and though the knots I made weren’t the greatest, I was confident they would hold for the day I needed. Quickly, I draped her over my back and snuck to the door. I had to time my exit perfectly, just when the patrol passed by. I managed to do so, but with the added weight of Tulip it was difficult to move both swiftly and silently. I barely made it to the fence before they came around again, but they didn't look my way. Again, luck was all that saved me.

With a great effort I flew both of us over the fence. I walked through the hills until I couldn’t make out the faint lights of the guards and then dumped Tulip in what was probably an old river bed. The journey had taken quite a while, and I was panting and sweaty by the time I got rid of her, but the flight back was a breeze, and the thought of all the love I would be getting pushed me onward. When I landed back in the compound, I was smiling with exhilaration. I stashed my bags on top of the barracks and then flew onto the main building. I waited for the guards to pass out of sight, then fluttered down and entered, disguising as Tulip.

This time, the door to Garlic’s room opened, and I saw him lying on a bed of hay, already fast asleep. I couldn't make out much else in the darkness. I curled up next to him, close but not touching. I wanted to wake him and eat, but my adrenaline rush was wearing off and I was shaky, sore, and dead tired.

Tomorrow, I would do it. First I would rest, then...

Feed.

Tomorrow I would get love. The very first thing. Finally!

Feed!

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Bookworm - You pay much closer attention to the smaller details when reading. You gain 50% more skill points when reading books.

Author's Note

Bleh. Sorry this took so long. Next chapter should come quicker... and have more action. Anyways, thank you all for reading, please leave any and all comments and/or criticism you have below. (I don't have editors so every little bit helps).

Also, thank you to Kkat for creating this universe in the first place, and all the others who have worked so hard to help expand and enrich it. You're all really awesome. /)^3^(\

Chapter 5: Crossfire

"Ah, this is the life. Wake up in the morning, have a little breakfast, and then spend all day trying to avoid being fried."

The first thing I felt when I woke up was Garlic. He had cuddled up to me during the night, and one of his forelegs was draped over my side. I snapped fully awake and nearly leaped out of the bed as soon as I registered who the warm body was.

Feed...

No. Calm down, I told myself. He had beaten me, hurt me, but that was directed at Tumbleweed. I was Tulip now. He wouldn’t hurt me. He would feed me. I didn’t need to be afraid. I would get even after I’d taken his love.

I composed myself and slipped out from his grasp, faking a particularly loud yawn as I did. I stretched the stiffness out of my limbs and squinted into the morning’s darkness. Very little light filtered through the door, but I spotted a light switch next to it and flicked it on.

Unlike his throne room, this place was lavish. The walls were a calm white, and the ceiling was painted a blue that was reminiscent of the cloud-buried sky. A polished vanity was placed on the other side of the bed, beside a dresser big enough to hold two ponies. Several shelves lined the east wall, displaying many trinkets and treasures. There was a golden pocket watch, scratched and worn; several wooden carvings of mares and stallions, all posing regally; a deck of cards that was in miraculous mint condition; a few freaky masks; and a pair of books with blank covers and some old magazines. I had an urge to read them, but they were on the top shelf, and I wasn’t able to reach that high without magic. Instead, I trotted over to the vanity, and started nosing around its drawers. There were several necklaces, all made of plastic, many different earrings, none of which were in a matching pair, and various vials of ground leaves and followers. I guessed those were what passed for perfume around here. Or incense maybe? There were only a few garments in the dresser, all of which were terribly tacky and moth-eaten. Ugh. My curiosity satisfied, I turned around to rouse my breakfast.

I yawned loudly again, and this time Garlic stirred. I greeted him with a smile and repressed a flinch when he stretched a hoof out to caress my face. His touch made my skin crawl.

“Good morning, Garly,” I said as lovingly as I could. It was odd having such a high voice after getting used to Tumbleweed’s baritone, but I didn’t get caught up on the change. It was just part of the life.

“Good morning, dear.” He smiled back at me, and I stretched out a mental proboscis.

Feed!

Love. I breathed in deeply as it blossomed slowly outward form him, overwhelming my senses. I thought the gratitude of the slaves had been delicious. I had been wrong. This was a new delicacy beyond any sensation I had felt before. Sweet as nectar, quenching as water, and more rejuvenating than sleep. I closed my eyes and sighed as he nuzzled against me, drinking up the emotion as fast as he could put it out. I was tasting my lifeblood for the first time, and I was in utter ecstasy. I relaxed into his embrace. Forget killing him. So long as he could keep feeding me love I would forgive those unwitting attacks.

Yes! Oh yes! Finally! FINALLY!

I didn't stop drinking. I had my mental fangs firmly implanted and his love was freely flowing, but I wanted more. I needed more—all of it! I triggered my magic without thinking, and suddenly I felt something in his mind give; a wall I didn't know I had been pressing on. I felt a part of my own mind slip into his, and a maelstrom of emotion welled up to greet me: love, happiness, lust, joy—The rush sent a wave of panic through me. What was happening!?

Too much. Too much! Not yet! Back! No—

Then, I knew: Love was more than another delicious emotion. It is a gateway. A passage down into the very core of a pony’s soul. Before I realized what I was doing I wrenched those feelings out in a deluge and, overwhelmed by their energies, choked them down. Energy burst into me, strengthening me beyond mere sustenance. I felt POWER now. Finally, I had a small taste of what the Queen had once craved. But, what was left in Garlic after I had finished was... nothing. I had drained his emotional core, and felt a hard lump of blackness where a pure soul should have been. I was struck with a sense of Deja vu—I had hit this core before. We had hit it—burrowed down to it many times already, and balked at its poisonous presence. I balked again, now.

It was an absence, plain and simple. Where the profound goodness of Ponykind had once been, I now found only a cold emptiness. His soul was lacking. Fundamentally deprived of a light I knew had once been there. Though enveloped by the sea of his emotions, it had always been a cold, empty place. This was wrong, I knew. This void in his soul was the seed of all that had become wrong with the world. But who had planted it?—or rather, who had uprooted the light it once held?

It was what had made us hunt them so desperately, that light of goodness.

I stood frozen at this revelation, unsure of what I had just done. I felt more full and more powerful than I had ever been, but I was also beginning to feel bloated, and that gyre of feelings I had taken in did not sit well in my mind. Taking it all, ripping it out, was a violation. One I had done unknowingly.

You slaughter the cow and it’s milk runs sour.

After a moment Garlic broke our embrace, but he was no longer smiling at me. His eyes were glazed over, tinged green by magic I hadn’t known I was using. “What time is it?” he asked lethargically, “I’m hungry. What do you feel like for breakfast, dear?”

“Actually, I just ate,” I said, my voice slow and cautious.

“Oh...” he scrunched his nose, confused, “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I was just so hungry Garly, and... you looked so peaceful, sleeping there. I didn’t want to wake you.” I nuzzled him again, hoping that maybe I could elicit another burst of emotion. Nothing. He was an empty chalice.

“Well... thank you for letting me sleep in," he stated, “But let’s get going. I’ve got a lot to do today. I hear a trade convoy may have made it down here.” He started toward the door, and I walked next to him, my body full of energy and apprehension. “Oh, that reminds me, I have a gift to give you later today, dear. It’s something I know you’ll love.” Though his words were kind they held no emotion. He was a robot reciting a script, not a lover talking to the one he loved.

“Mmm,” I said, still nervously keeping pace with my host, “I can’t wait, Garly...” He didn’t respond, and we exited the hallway into his throne room.

Onion was waiting for us there, a hard look on his face. “Bad news, boss,” he said the moment he saw Garlic, “That buck who stopped by yesterday? He’s back.” Garlic’s neutral expression fell into one of anger.

“Well, tell him the same thing we told him then: I don’t give a damn!”

“There’s one little problem with that,” Onion drawled, “He brought a mob with him this time.”

“What? What do you mean a mob?”

* * * * *

“Mob” was a bit of an understatement.

Half the ponies of Bulbs were massed outside the plantation’s gate, and at their head was Light Ray. I had completely forgotten about the fate of Spare Parts. Everything had been pushed to the back of my mind the moment I’d caught that whiff of Garlic’s love.

“Now will you fuckers listen t’ me?” the earth pony bellowed. We were several dozen meters away, but even at this distance I could see that he was aiming a battle-saddle through the gate, toward where Garlic, Onion, and I stood. I voiced my concern about standing out in the open, but Onion insisted that we were safe at this range. The guards, some of whom stood behind the gate as a barrier while others looked on from the watchtowers, had their own guns trained on the mass of ponies besieging them. Beside Light Ray, Cathode held out her gun in front of his chest, holding him back like a sprinter at the starting line. She glanced nervously back and forth between the two factions.

“What... what does he want?” I asked. I could make a rough guess: revenge.

“He blames us for an... accident that happened to one of his friends,” Onion answered, his gaze locked on the gathered mob.

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? What accident—?”

“That doesn’t fucking matter,” Garlic interjected, stomping a hoof on the ground, “The point is he thinks he knows how to handle my guards better than I do! Onion!” he said, jerking his head toward the orange stallion, “Do whatever you have to to get those good-for-nothings outta my sight. I don’t—”

“Hey!” Light Ray’s voice erupted into the space between us, pulling Garlic’s focus back to him. “Garlic! I know that’s you, fucker! You can’t just shoot my kid sister and walk away! Get the fuck over here and own up, you fucking bastard!” Garlic stepped forward, snarling.

“How dare you talk that way to me!?” he shouted, “If you leeches don’t want to get shot, don’t attack my ponies!” The venom in his voice was terrifying. It was the polar opposite of what I had felt inside him that morning; I understood then that the void I had left inside him was not truly empty. It was brimming with the emotions I could not feel: hate, sorrow, guilt, envy... We Chagelings did not feed on negative energies, why would we ever need to sense them?

“You think I buy that story, fucker? Parts didn’t attack nopony! I got Wattson’s own word on that, and he was there when th’ bastard shot her!” There were several shouts of agreement from the mob behind him, and the guards up front glanced back at Garlic nervously. He, in turn, narrowed his eyes and looked over at Onion. The stallion stammered briefly before trotting forward to address Light Ray without having to practically scream. His mouth was planted firmly around the bit of his battle-saddle.

“Look, I know you’re mad and all, but we don’t shoot ponies unless we got good reason too. We were... apprehending a wanted criminal and she tried to stop us. She brought it on herself.”

“Bullshit!” someone from the crowd cried out. Light Ray nodded. He was bent low to the ground now, primed to spring into action.

“I won’t be satisfied until th’ fucker responsible is dead!” he shouted, “And as far as I’m concerned that’s you, Garlic!” At this, all the guards aimed their weapons at him, if they were not doing so already. Cathode slowly stepped back from Light Ray, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. This was not going to end well.

“Oh, so you’re going to kill me, then?” Garlic laughed, surprising me. “If I die so does Bulbs. My plantation's the only thing keeping your sad excuse for a city fuelled and you know it!" I raised an eyebrow at that claim. Sure, he seemed to be in command here, but I hadn't seen him do anything special to keep this place operating. If he died, what would stop somepony else from just taking his place?

If my train of thought was shared by the townsfolk, they didn't show it. A murmur spread through them at Garlic's words, and even Light Ray was silent for a moment. But he recovered and said, "You think I believe that crap about your magic? You'd better send me th' pony who shot Parts before I decide t’ put that claim of your t’ th’ test!" At that, the murmur increased, and several voices took issue with Light Ray's brashness. I saw Onion plant his feet, and I knew he was about to open fire.

“Everypony, please!” Cathode cried, jumping in front of Light Ray and looking desperately between each side, “We can reason this out. Let’s not be wasting bullets on our own neighbours if we don’t have to.”

“We should just open fire,” Garlic stated, “I don’t want any of my guards dying.”

I gave him a surprised expression. “Garly, dear, I don’t think that would help. You might bring the whole town down on us.” Though broken, he was still the only good source of love I’d found so far, and I did not want him getting himself killed before I knew if his positive emotions would come back or not.

At my words he gave me an angry look and made a guttural noise in his throat. “Well, what the fuck else am I supposed to do, let them lynch my ponies?” he snapped, “And besides, I don’t even know who did it in the first place! I’ll just have them shoot their leader, that’ll quiet the rest down.” He stepped forward to act on his words, but I ran in front of him and blocked his chest with a hoof.

“Wait, you don’t know who did it?” I asked. So neither Onion nor Morning Bell had given him the full story? I smiled briefly as I began to form a plan—I doubted he would be very accommodating to liars in his current state.

“No, I don’t. Now would you mind going inside dearest one?” Again his words lacked the care they implied. “Bullets are about to start flying, it’s not safe.”

Curse his tongue, it was at that exact moment that Light Ray’s furry boiled over. My head snapped around as the first gunshot was fired, and I gasped in horror at it’s effects. The Survival Guide had talked briefly about the fact that guns could fire different types of ammunition, and I guess that Light Ray must have been using explosive rounds, because one of the legs of the easternmost watchtower was now smoldering scrap, and I heard short cries of terror as it bent under its own weight and collapsed, scattering both Garlic’s guards and the unruly mob they had been facing. Chaos ensued.

The first thing Garlic did, despite his apparent lovelessness, was tackle me to the ground and scream at his guards to “Kill all those fuckers!” I saw the plantation’s gate break down as Garlic’s guards took cover behind the collapsed watchtower. Though it provided little cover, it gave them a huge advantage over anypony else. The only other shelters were but a few large rocks and a total of one muddy hole near the road. Already I saw several ponies dead on both sides, notably all the guards in the collapsed tower, and most of the ponies who had been near the front of the mob. However, I did not see Light Ray’s body among them.

A bullet pinged off the ground near my tail and I screamed, covering my head feebly with my hooves. “Come on dear, let’s go!” I heard Garlic say. I gasped. I had heard—and felt—a hint of true emotion in that voice. Maybe the damage I’d done wasn’t irreversible? I leap to my feet as more stray bullets whizzed by, and together we cantered away from the firefight. I sorely missed my barding, worn though it had been.

The battle was spreading. Around me I could see more guards sprinting toward the gate as reinforcements, while others were busy corralling the slaves back into their pins, fearing they take advantage of the attack. Just then, I thought I saw a flash of indigo out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned to look I saw nothing but a few tulips that had been trampled in the slave’s mad rush to get away from the firefight. Another slew of gunshots ended my focus on that little curiosity, and I continued to gallop back toward the main buildings of the plantation.

* * * * *

The skirmish turned into a battle, and the battle soon degraded into a stalemate. Though Garlic directed his guards at the barracks to reinforce the front gate, neither side was able to push the other back. A horrible tension dragged on, with the guards and townsfolk able to do little but wait behind whatever cover they had found and take pot shots at anypony on the opposing side daring enough to stick their head out. Both Light Ray and Garlic were too enraged to consider a truce. All the while the skies had darkened overhead, threatening to burst and make the day even more miserable.

I, meanwhile, was with Garlic next to the makeshift war-room that had been set up after he realized the battle wouldn’t be over quickly. However, it was less of a room and more of a table made from an overturned harvest bin that had been hurriedly set up just outside the front door of Garlic’s court. I crouched low behind it while Garlic and a couple of exhausted guards tried to come up with some way to break the stalemate. They had not been successful so far.

The first thing they attempted was to have some guards hop the fence to try and flank the townsfolk, hoping they could sweep them up quickly. Unfortunately for Garlic, the townsfolk had had the same idea. The resulting clash left about a dozen dead or maimed and both sides too paranoid to try the maneuver again. Even now Morning Bell was looking twitchily back and forth between the hillsides, her left eye swollen shut.

Next they had tried to blast the townsfolk away with the few explosives they had available, but their supply had been too limited to make any impact. One shattered rock and three dead, but that seemed to only strengthen their conviction. Garlic then wanted to just snipe them from atop the watchtowers, but, again, we lacked the proper arms to attack from that far away. All that resulted were wasted bullets and a guard lost to friendly fire. The sniper who had done it was still curled up sobbing in the watchtower he’d shot from. Apparently they’d been friends.

It had been a painfully slow game of attrition, and neither side had much stamina left.

Throughout this time I had done little but cower near Garlic. I had stopped flinching at the echoes of gunfire after that first failed flanking maneuver, but the terror of getting killed by either Light Ray or a stray bullet kept me firmly planted behind the harvest bin. I just wanted this battle to be over with. I again contemplated simply telling Garlic that Onion had been the one responsible for Spare Parts’ death, but that would risk my disguise, and Garlic made it clear that even if he did know who had done it, he would never let the townsfolk have them on principle. He would also not let this ‘humiliation’ go unpunished.

“An embargo, that’s what I’ll do! If those ungrateful fucks want food they can get it from Maize!”

The only good thing that had happened during this ordeal was that Garlic’s emotions had begun to restore themselves. The process was slow, but I noticed that the green was fading from his eyes, and I could feel phantoms of the love he once held for me—or Tulip, rather. I resisted the urge to drink them right away. I did not want to deplete my only food source again.

Feed...

“Hey!” somepony shouted, “Garlic!” I peeked over the edge of the bin, and saw one of the guards trotting toward us. Cathode was at her side, limping slightly. She had several bandages on her forelegs and a nasty cut above one of her cheekbones, but she managed to keep pace with the mare escorting her.

“What? What do you want?” Garlic demanded, cursing under his breath. Though his capacity for good emotions was returning, the situation was doing little to bring them back out.

Morning Bell, along with the three other guards who were here, aimed their weapons at the bleeding security mare, though the action was mostly reflexive. Even I could she see was not a threat. Her eyes widened a bit, but the mare who had brought her in waved her forward. “Mister Garlic, sir,” Cathode blurted, “We need to stop this. Too many ponies are dying. I’m here to ask for a truce.” She panted as Garlic took her in, blood slowly seeping down through the hair on her face.

“Why should I give you a truce?” His voice was dry and tired. Though his eyes still held a fire the bags underneath them betrayed his body’s weariness of this battle. He had snapped and shouted at almost every one of his subordinates since he first awoke, and from their hurt reactions I could tell that he was not himself today. I had extirpated his good emotions, and the aggression and ego that was left had extended his tolerance for this violence far beyond what it should normally have been. This confrontation may never have gotten so out of hand had I not been greedy this morning. I chastised myself for not being more cautious. This whole debacle had been a huge waste of my time. A huge, terrifying waste.

“Why do you think?” Cathode spat, “There’s no point to this anymore. Too many of our folk are dead, too many of your folk are dead. Nopony’s getting anything out of this anymore. Let’s stop it while we can and end this pointless bloodshed.”

“While we can? Why should I care about how many of you have died? You are the ones who decided to attack me for no good reason! You’re getting what you deserve, you ungrateful leeches!” Around him his guards exchanged nervous looks. They all looked as tired of battle as Cathode was, and it was clear Garlic's unyielding bloodlust did not sit well with them.

"Boss, quit it!" Morning Bell cut in, stepping forward to confront Garlic, "She's right, there ain't any point. I'm tired of this—we're tired of this... lets end it now before anypony else gets killed." She paused for a moment before muttering, "Onion's the one who shot that mare. I was there. I didn't stop him."

Garlic glared at her, brooding. He opened his mouth and closed it again, angry but unable to retort. I saw his eyes flick to his sides, and I followed that glance. Even now his guards were lowering their weapons, all turning to face him the way Morning Bell had. He was encircled by them, with Cathode in their number, and the meaning was clear. They were tired of fighting. This was over. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw Garlic’s resolve falter

“Garly, darling, please...” I begged. My words finished the job, and Garlic slumped in defeat.

“Alright,” he grumbled, “We’ll call a truce. But there will be consequences for what you’ve done!”

Then Tulip showed up.

I did not see her pounce, but I felt a sudden impact and the next thing I knew I was pinned on the ground staring up at the mare I’d kidnapped last night. “What the fuck are you!?” she screamed into my face, and I flinched as a few drops of spittle landed on me. Her eyes were wild and bloodshot, her coat was unkempt, splattered with bits of gore, and she reeked of sweat and violence. Her appearance, combined with the shock of her arrival and the way she towered over me caused me to react in a way it hadn’t know was possible before. I wet myself.

“Tulip? What...?”

“The fuck!?”

“Who the hell...?”

Everypony, including Cathode, suddenly had their weapons trained on us, clearly baffled by the appearance of a second Tulip. Thankfully, it also distracted them from the embarrassing mess I’d made.

“Dear...?” Garlic started.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU!?” Tulip raised a hoof to smash my head. I blocked the blow and kicked her off me. I rolled up to my hooves as fast as I could and jumped to Garlic’s side before the real Tulip could lash out at me again. He would save me. He was still under my spell. I could convince him that I was Tulip! I could...

“Tulip... what... two...” But he backed away from me, along with the rest of his guards. They were too confused and afraid to know what was going on. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through their heads right now.

Tulip charged me again, and I moved to dodge, but then we both found a pair of shotguns pressed against our foreheads. They were held in Morning Bell’s magic. We froze—I in a state of sheer terror, and Tulip in one of pure rage. She was quivering, glaring intensely at me. What would I do? What could I do? I was going to die. No no no—what could I do? Even if I flew away I would be shot, what—?

Calm. Calm—

“Both of you calm the fuck down right now, ya hear?” Morning Bell commanded, pushing a gun further into my skull for emphasis. Presumably she did the same to the real Tulip, but I didn’t see her flinch. “I don’t know what the fuck just happened, so one of ya’ll better start talkin’ before I decide to blow both of ya away.”

“I—” I started.

“No—” Garlic began.

“I’ll tell you what happened!” Tulip shouted, overwhelming us. She continued, her words filled with rage, “Last night, after some magic orb knocks me into the weirdest fucking dream I ever had, I woke up in a ditch fucking miles away with a Celestia-dammed radscorpion sniffing my tail! Then, after the scariest fucking morning of my life, I come back to find whateverthefuck this thing is—” She jabbed a hoof at me. “—sitting around like it’s supposed to be me and my home under a fucking siege and Garlic acting like a goddess-damned bloodthirsty fucking idiot!”

“What— How—” Garlic was still trying to say something, but he was cut off by Morning Bell.

“And you?” the mare asked, raising an eyebrow at me. Words caught in my throat.

“I—” What could I say? She had a gun at my head what could I say? I needed to think—oh Queen, save me—what do I say? “I...” I had no ideas. I had not expected for Tulip to come back so soon. I could do nothing but make pathetic squeaking noises as panic overwhelmed me. I braced myself to take off. If I could make it to the rooftop without getting shot, I would have enough cover to get away. I had gotten enough love to survive for awhile. I was good. Forget Garlic, forget the plantation, forget Bulbs. I just had to survive. Morning Bell lowered the gun on the real Tulip.

Run...

“Hold on now,” Cathode shouted, running up to stand in the middle of the three of us, “Let’s not be hasty here... didn’t we just say we’re tired of ponies dying? Maybe we can talk this out—”

“What’s to talk about?” Tulip snapped, “This... thing kidnapped me, nearly got me killed, and somehow stole my fucking body! There’s enough mutated bullshit to worry about already, I don’t need a fucking clone.”

“But you’re the clone!” I blurted. Tulip’s expression somehow got even angrier.

“Don’t you even fucking try that shit!” she screamed, her voice cracking on the third to final word. Her eyes glistened with tears. “You will not try and usurp my fucking life, you abomination!”

I gulped, glancing with wide eyes at the ponies surrounding me. My sputtering and panic had done me in. The guards’ weapons now trained exclusively on me, with Morning Bell’s shotgun still hovered menacingly by my head, while the one she had pointed at Tulip was now holstered. Even Cathode had stepped away from me. The only hope I had left was Garlic. I turned to him, seeing confusion and hurt in his eyes, and I reached out to try and ensnare his mind. If I could repeat what I had done that morning... but no, I could not get to his love. He did not offer it any more. His mind was closed to me by suspicion and distrust. The green in his eyes had vanished. What could I do? What do I do?

“Garly,” I tried again, desperate, “Help me—” The real Tulip charged at me, screaming.

I fell onto my back, kicking upward with my feet as Tulip flew into the space my torso had just been. The result sent her flying over me and crashing into Garlic. I didn’t wait for her to recover. I dashed toward the doorway, getting in just a moment before Morning Bell decided to open fire. That was it then; if they’d had any doubt before as to which one of us was real it was gone now. I was through the hallway and into the courtroom before I heard the door bang open again, and I took advantage of that second to transform into Onion. I wouldn’t fool anyone, but if they were flanking me then his face might give them pause.

Or might have, I should say. Nothing happened when I tried to trigger my magic. My eyes widened. He’d been killed? Really? But why hadn’t we heard about—?

There was no time to wonder, my pursuers were in the courtroom, and I was still two steps from the side door. A bullet grazed my flank, and I hissed in pain. I pushed open the door, and looked too my left. It was as I feared: two of the guards were running toward me, weapons at the ready. The next building side I could take cover behind was more than a two second sprint away, and not even a moment of hesitancy would have been enough to get me there. I was out of options. Time to fight.

They fired, and I leapt upward, giving my wings a furious flap as I dropping my disguise. A bullet tore through my knee, but my velocity was enough to keep me going. I rammed into the first one with my horn, goring his neck. He made panicked gurgling noises as I pushed him off my head, but they quickly subsided. I felt pain explode through where I’d been hit in my right foreleg as I launched myself at his companion, but it was worth it. Another moment later and he would have shot me in the head at point blank. As it was the bullet only bounced off my shell, and the guard was not agile enough to prevent my fangs from biting into his jugular.

More gurgling, then silence. A moment later the side door opened again.

I turned, and saw Morning Bell and the final guard, both their eyes wide with shock. Blood coated my face, trickling down my horn and dripping off my fangs. The taste overwhelmed my senses, making me sick. My knee throbbed, and I could feel the leg it was on about to give out. I had to fight past the nausea and pain, though. I still had to take care of these two. I had no other choice. I couldn’t outrun them.

I jerked forward, but my leg couldn’t take it. I stumbled, barely managing to keep myself off the ground with my wings. I kicked down with my three good legs, sending myself just high enough to avoid the barrage of gunfire the two now-recovered guards sent at me. I practically tossed myself at them, landing on the one who wasn’t Morning Bell—an ugly black and red stallion. I went for his neck, but he managed to dodge me and got away with only a deep cut from one fang. In a flash, he had the gun in his mouth aimed at me, but in this position he was also shielding me from Morning Bell. Again, I pounced off three legs, flapping as hard as I could. The bullet he fired took only a wide gash of chitin off my underbelly, and I screamed in muffled agony as I snapped his neck between my jaws.

That left only Morning Bell. And her arsenal of guns.

I fell back, using the body of the buck I’d just slain as a meat shield to ward off a few seconds worth of bullets as Morning Bell unloaded on me. She was screaming something. Words of panic. I couldn’t hear clearly over the sound of her gunfire. I tasted and smelled nothing but blood. My eyes watered from the stench. Another bullet pinged off my shell, and I collapsed in pain. The buck slumped from my side, torn into a gory hide of meat. This was it, then. I couldn’t get back up fast enough.

I looked up. Morning Bell stared down at me with her good eye, its pupil shrunken to nothing. Three guns floated around her, their triggers clicking. She was hyperventilating. I blinked in surprise. She was scared?

I tried to take advantage of Morning Bell’s hesitation, but as soon as I started to struggle to my feet she snapped out of her panic. More clips floated out of her saddlebags. I stumbled, legs suddenly weak. The hits I’d taken had done their job. Already there was more green ooze pooling under me than I knew could be good. She was reloading her shotgun now. I didn’t want to die. Not here. Not yet. Not so soon after finally feeding. Not with so much unanswered. But I couldn’t move fast enough. What could I—?

Magic!

An epiphany. I had eaten Garlic’s love. I still had that power left to use. As Morning Bell finished reloading I summoned my magic, reaching out to the gun she held. The levitation spell materialized this time, and with all my strength I gave the weapon a sharp downward jerk the moment before she pulled the trigger. It worked, and the mare yelped in surprise and pain as her hoof was caught in the blast. The rest of her guns clattered to the ground, her concentration broken. I grabbed her pistol in my magic, and dragged it to my side. With my mouth I pointed it at her the moment before she could recover. We stared at each other, frozen.

I then remembered that this gun was out of bullets. Morning Bell grinned: she remembered too.

Before I could move, her gun was once again pressed against my skull, and the smile on her face widened. Behind her I could see that Garlic and Tulip had caught up as they rounded the side of the building. They paused in shock at this grisly scene.

“What... how did this happen?” Garlic asked, stepping around the pooling blood. His face looked somehow whiter.

“Is that the thing?” Tulip hissed, prowling forward, “Is that its real face?”

I didn’t move as Morning Bell pressed her gun into me. Tears were forming in my eyes. I had no idea what was keeping her from pulling that trigger, but I didn’t dare disturb it. Her smile kept getting wider and wider as my despair grew into madness. Not now, please, no, not now.

No no no. Stupid ponies and their stupid weapons! NO—

I almost broke down sobbing, but though my vision was blurred my eyes darted to the small red dot that suddenly appeared on Morning Bell’s coat. What? Despite everything my panic lessoned, and I found myself engrossed with this odd particle as it slid silently upward to rest on her swollen eyelid. What was that thing?

“Don’t kill it, yet, Morning. I want to repay it for what it did to me. What it almost did to my future.” Tulip said something. I didn’t quite register it. I was too focused on that dot. It calmed me somehow. Some part of my mind knew something about this. It was... a light. A red light. What... what made a light like that? Some fraction of a memory swam just beneath my conscious. I knew this. I could feel it. What was—?

The bullet gave only a whisper as it sailed over my head. It made only a bloody hole in her eye, but the back of her head exploded outward. Tulip shrieked as bits of brain landed on her, diving toward the court’s side door before Morning Bell’s body even hit the ground. Garlic gasped but didn’t move, and I watched in fascination and exaltation as the red dot moved onto him. He seemed to understand then, but it was too late. As he made to run another bullet whisked by, and he howled in agony as it burrowed through his knee. He hobbled onward, but a second shot sent him to the ground. He cursed and cried, but the one guard who showed up to help met the same fate as Morning Bell. I let out a sob of relief.

No. Not safe yet.

As Garlic tried to crawl away, I craned my neck back to see who my savior was. I timed it just right. In a flash of indigo, a stallion appeared before me. His coat was lush chocolate brown, with a mane of only a slightly redder color, and his eyes were the same sharp purple as the magic he used to levitate the massive weapon he carried with him. It was a rifle, longer than any I’d seen so far, and it looked to be cobbled together from a variety of weapon scraps. The handle was the same color as the stallion’s mane, the main body was metal overlaid with worn wood, the bulky sight was rusted, the barrel was a polished black, and the large silencer on its end was a greasy silver. A very familiar greasy silver. This was that thief Cathode and I had encountered before.

What was he doing here?

“Who are—?” I started. At my words he peered down, and the hard look on his face turned to one of confusion. He made to aim his gun at me, but when I flinched and threw my hooves up in front of my face he stopped. He looked me over for a second, and I expected him to say something, but he remained silent. I took note of his Cutie Mark then: A blue-breasted songbird, its beak open and wings outstretched, standing in front of a microphone.

In front of us, Garlic made another pained noise, and the stallion jerked his head back up to him. His eyes narrowed. Without glancing at me again, he levitated a healing potion out of his saddlebag and tossed it to me before proceeding over the line of corpses. I gasped with joy and caught the vial in my magic, pouring it over my wounds the moment I managed to get it open. He hadn’t just rescued me. He’d healed me! My heart swelled with relief.

As my injuries sealed themselves I turned to thank my savior, but he was already towering over Garlic, a knife joining the rifle at his side. The crippled buck blubbered something up at the brown stallion, but I was unable to make out his final words as the knife plunged down. I watched in fear as the stallion drove the blade into Garlic’s mouth, twisting it around with his magic. Garlic screamed, trying to escape, but the stallion held him down with a firm hoof. A moment later the knife was wrenched out, and the stallion relented. Garlic wretched, coughing out a deluge of blood, and there was a sickening wet sound as the tongue he once had splattered out with it.

The stallion smiled then, stepping back from Garlic as he languished pathetically on the ground before him, blood choking his sobs. He took a deep breath, clearly relishing the moment. I rose to my feet, stricken with horror, as the stallion pointed his rifle in Garlic’s face. He fired a final shot, straight through the plantation owner’s head, and he could do nothing but let out a scream that was little more than a muffled gurgle.

The assassin approached me, bathed in blood as I was, his rifle still at the ready.

I hesitated. When I first saw him I had wanted to embrace him, but now I was too nervous to so much as utter thanks. What he had just done to Garlic disturbed me. It reminded me of Raider cruelty. “What... was that? Who are you?” I asked. He opened his mouth as a reply.

He had no tongue. Things clicked.

“You one of his slaves?” I asked. The stallion nodded, smiling a grim smile. This had been vengeance. That I could understand. He had wronged me too. “Thank you,” I rasped, “For saving me.”

He nodded again, but this wasn’t the time for conversation. With a single hoof he pointed up toward the hills, and then mimed flapping motions at me with his forehooves. Then he was gone in another flash of indigo, not even waiting for me to reply. I got the message, and quickly flew up to the rooftop, intending to retrieve my saddlebags before going after him. I wasn’t sure that this was the right thing to do, but with my only source of love dead and my true identity exposed it would be madness to stay here. I might as well follow my savior.

I had moved just in time. The main force of guards was just coming back, having retreated. I guessed that Cathode had told all of them about the truce, but as soon as Garlic’s fate was known the plantation erupted into another bout of chaos. Ponies shouting, arguing, running back and forth, some fighting... I took advantage of the confusion to sneak into the barracks as a random guard and steal some supplies. I didn’t find much, just two more healing potions, a few potatoes, and one of my knives—the one from those first raiders—but that was enough. I really liked that knife.

I waited for a good moment, flew up to the roof, and then sailed over the fence to freedom.

Now, time to find out who this stallion was.

* * * * *

I was in the hills now, heading slowly in the direction my savior had pointed me. I wasn’t sure how much farther I had to go, but I figured that when I got close enough he would alert me to his presence. If not... well, this direction was as good as any other. I did want to find him, though. I wanted to talk to him. Ask him why he had saved me. He must have seen me kill those other ponies. He had been shocked at what I looked like. So why did he help me? Did he know about changelings? Did he think I was some sort of mutated pony? Either way, he should have thought of me as a monster. So why didn’t he kill me?

I sighed in frustration. This must have been how Spare Parts felt. He’d saved my life, after every instinct I had told me that ponies hated me, and, as far as I could tell, he’d done it for no selfish reason. He could have waited for Morning Bell to finish me off. Or for Tulip to get her revenge... I felt something stir inside of me. I was truly grateful for him, I realized. I owed him my life.

Anxious to meet up with him, I hefted my knife in the air before me, testing the limits of my newfound telekinesis. I gave it a few swings and twirled it around, imagining the ways I could use it in battle now. Battle... Some part of me still hoped I would be able to find someplace where I wouldn’t have to fight, someplace peaceful where love would bloom, but my experiences so far contradicted that. I would just have to get used to this violence. I was already killing on instinct.

My thoughts were interrupted as the chocolate stallion materialized in front of me, his hair smoking. Teleportation must not have been his strong suit, I gathered. He flashed me a gorgeous smile, and then turned to the east, waving for me to follow. I did so eagerly.

“Who are you?” I asked again, “Why did you save me?”

He looked back at me questioningly. I was struck by the intensity of his eyes.

“Er, n-not that I’m not grateful,” I blurted, “It’s just that, uh, almost everypony I’ve met so far has tried to kill me... so, uh, this is odd.”

In response, he stood up on his back legs and made an intricate series of motions with his forehooves. He fell back onto all fours shortly, and then raised his eyebrows at me.

“What?”

He mimed an exaggerated sigh, and then opened his mouth again, pointing at his lack-of-tongue. He then pointed a hoof off into the distance before miming talking motions while sliding back and forth to imitate a conversation. When he was done he gave me another questioning expression. I think I understood.

“You can talk... somewhere over there?” I motioned to where he had pointed.

He grimaced for a moment, swirling a hoof slowly in the air, but then nodded. I smiled. I guess I’d been close enough.

Without another attempt at a word he continued on, and I immediately fell into step behind him. This was frustrating. I was grateful, but why did he have to be mute? I needed answers, dammit!

* * * * *

Our journey was silent, but not uneventful. As we made our way through the hills behind the plantation, we encountered a roaming pack of radscorpions. However, the stallion made quick work of them before they got close, leaving me feeling useless and more than a bit embarrassed at my lacking gun skills. Despite its size, he quickly maneuvered his rifle between targets, picking each hissing beast off with a single silent shot. The way he did it on two legs, with his gun in his forehooves, made it even more impressive. It looked almost like he was dancing.

Ugh... do not tell me this is going where I think it is...

Nothing else happened until we had left the plantation far behind us. The ground was completely flat again, and I saw we were approaching another worn highway, like the one that had connected Chard and Bulbs. This one ran south and north, and from the latter direction I noticed a collection of figures in the distance. The stallion saw them too, and ducked low to the ground, motioning for me to do the same. I waited nervously nearby as he peered through his scope. After a long while he scooted aside and shot me a questioning glance. I moved into the space he’d occupied and squinted an eye in front of the rifle.

I saw a group of ponies, all unicorns and all armored, marching steadily down the road. They were divided into two blocks, each pulling a cart of supplies in their midst. The first block was preceded by a line of three, one of which was carrying a banner of some sort. I couldn’t make out any more details, but something in the way they moved sparked a thought in my mind. They looked so ordered. Militarized. And they were coming from the north... The spiel Cathode had given me two days earlier rang again in my mind.

“Are they from New Canterlot?” I asked.

He gave a short nod, still looking toward the procession.

"What... what should we do?”

He stood up, shrugged down at me, and then slung his rifle across his back, continuing toward the road. I disguised as Boysenberry. I didn’t want any more ponies than absolutely necessary to know that a changeling was lurking about the land. My magic, however, elicited a shocked expression from the stallion. I quickly flashed it on and off to demonstrate my ability. He blinked at me, but seemed to understand.

I kept a careful eye on the approaching convoy. If we had paused for a minute or so more, we would have intercepted them, but my savior didn’t stop. By the time we crossed the barren highway, I could hear the faint rumble of their carts and the echoing stomp of their hooves falling in step. I could also now make out the image on the vanguard’s banner as it waved steadily in the air.

It was a surprisingly detailed emblem: a giant steel sun, emerging from a churning sea of water. Below it, the froth of a dark tempest threatened to overwhelm that metallic shape, but though it was drenched it was clearly moving upward, toward a calm blue sky. The number ‘111’ was engraved on that sun.

“They came from Stable 111,” Cathode had said. Stables: another mystery.

I didn’t have time to ponder the sight. The stallion was moving faster, obviously wanting to put distance between us and what I now assumed to be the army of New Canterlot. Before long we were out of its sight, and the silence of our journey returned. With little to do but walk, no way to make conversation, and no scenery but dirt and the occasional dried shrub, I found myself staring at the tail of the stallion in front of me. Watching it move back and forth, back and forth... it was kind of hypnotic.

Yeah, sure, his ‘tail.’ Just don’t forget about me as you go chasing after it...

What?

I swore I had heard someone talk, but the moment I tried to focus on it there was nothing. I surveyed the Wasteland cautiously, fearing raiders. Nothing.

What!? Can you still not hear me? Dammit, if they—

Odd.

* * * * *

The peach red of late noon was working its way across the cloudcover by the time we reached our destination. I, undisguised again, could see it. An old building at the end of a long narrow strip of concrete that had a few lines of white paint still barely visible on its surface. The strip was almost half a mile long, and as we walked across it I could see scraps of metal and unrecognizable broken implements scattered about. Odd, that they hadn’t been scavenged yet.

We had been going at a steady pace, but as we neared the end of the concrete my savior motioned for me to halt. He stuck his muzzle into his saddlebag, searching, and I took the opportunity to scrutinize the structure we faced. There was a doubled door some distance in front of us, with the letters ‘NEARS’ fading above it. It was a single story except for the tower near its western edge that blossomed into a boxy globe at its top, with many windows. The whole complex was not even a quarter as large as Bulbs, but in the midst of this empty wasteland that tower was an impressive sentinel. I wondered why nopony had taken advantage of such a strategic structure, but at that moment the stallion I was following had found what he’d been looking for. He pulled out a small metallic device with a large red button, and pressed it with his magic. It glowed for a moment, and then a chorus of loud beeps sounded from the ground in front of us. I jumped at the unexpected noise.

“What was that?” I demanded.

The stallion gave a silent laugh and trotted forward a bit, digging at a the ground for a moment. He levitated up another metal object, this one circular, and an image of a great explosion flashed through my memories.

Mines.

I guess that answered my earlier question. This stallion, whoever he was, must have this place pretty secure already. I trotted forward cautiously, following as he walked toward the building. I expected him to go through the entrance, but instead he trotted off in the direction of the tower. There was a pile of wooden pallets stacked up below an opening to what was once a vent in the side of the wall. The stallion hopped up, motioned for me to follow, and then started to squeeze himself in.

“Couldn’t we just use the door?” I asked. I didn’t want to have to crawl through an air duct. So little space. The walls so close. Already I was starting to breath shallowly.

The stallion shook his head vehemently at my suggestion, then made a slashing motion across his throat. Maybe he had the door booby-trapped? Weren’t mines enough? He returned to the vent, and pushed himself all the way in, disappearing from sight. I shuffled back and forth on my feet, stalling in fear. Small spaces. I didn’t need more small spaces. That stairwell in Bulbs had been enough. Maybe if I flew around I could find a window? But then I wouldn’t know where he had gone, and what if he had this whole place booby-trapped? I hardly understood how mines worked, who knew what other sort of devices might be laying around? Maybe I could just leave? No—I wouldn’t dare. This stallion had saved me, and I still had so many questions. If I left now I’d have no direction to go in, and I’d be back where I’d started. I didn’t expect to get love out of this venture, but some answers would be more than worth the effort.

Finally, I dragged myself up to the duct’s entrance and stared down into the long, dark chute. The long, dark, narrow, chute. I gulped, steeling myself, and pushed my way in.

* * * * *

It was dark. Confined. I crawled as fast as I could managed, my saddlebags squished into my sides. The Survival Guide was digging painfully into my gut, but I couldn’t adjust it. I could only go forward. Into the darkness. Pulling back with my forelegs, pushing forward with my hindlegs. Move forward. Don’t think about the dark. Just don’t think about it. The air was hot. It pressed in on me. I could only go forward now. I could not back up. I could hear the stallion moving, the clank of his hooves on metal echoed down. I tried to catch him. I could not go faster. I had to focus on him. He knew where the exit was. He could get me out. But there was no room here. It was like a tomb. A coffin. I could not see the end and could not go back to the beginning. I was stuck. Trapped. I wanted out. I needed out. I kept moving forward, muscles aching as I tried to crawl faster—to drag myself forward faster—but still it was dark. I felt the walls around me—too close! Too close! I needed out! Out! Out! Out—!

Calm! Calm!

I stopped, wheezing loudly in the tight space.

Calm. Calm.

I forced myself to take a deeper breath. To hold it, and let it out slowly. I couldn’t let this get to me. It was only an air vent. There was space outside it, space I could fall into. I thought of the empty rooms below and the open sky locked up so far away. I filled my mind with those images, trying to remove myself from this place, and kept my breath steady and even. My panic began to subside. The darkness around me let my mind’s eye overcome my other senses, and after a while the visions of openness instilled calm inside me once more. I continued on.

It was quiet here, and quiet in my mind. Now that I was in some control of my claustrophobia, the silence of this place was finally registering. Only it was not silent. There was a soft shuffling sound coming from below me, from below the air duct. I listened closer, and realized it was the sound of breathing. Soft and ragged, like a dozen ponies all wheezing out their last breaths over and over again. A new fear swept through me as I realized why we hadn’t gone in through the door. There was some sort of creature living here. Something horrible. Something not even the impeccable marksman in front of me dared face. What could it be? I shivered, trying to keep my mind from conjuring up answers to that question.

Ignore it, I told myself, it couldn’t get to me up here. I was safe. Yet on it went, almost imperceptible, that deathly breathing.

* * * * *

I squealed with joy when I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I scurried forward as fast as I could managed, and tumbled out the vent, landing solidly on all my feet. Light! Open air! I was smiling with relief. The journey had not actually been that long, but even those few minutes of stress had been too much. I never wanted to do that again.

“You finally back, Rolling?” A female voice. I focused on my surroundings.

We were in a... what was the word? Think, think... Laboratory! Yes, that’s where we were: an old laboratory. It was small, but was packed full of... objects of science, I guess. Books, files, small models of machines I didn’t know the names of, and a dozen other things I didn’t have time to take in. A skylight gave the dusty room a faint glow, while a candle burned softly on a nearby desk. There were also two blackboards at the front of the room, near where we had emerged, and they were chock full of numbers and letters that I didn’t understand. A door, slightly ajar, was near the edge of one, and it was from there the voice had emerged. It was followed quickly by the sound of hoof steps, and then it’s owner. Our eyes went wide when we saw each other.

“What is that!?” we screamed in unison.

This... this couldn’t be a pony. It had the form of one as I did, but where bright fur should have been only greyed decaying flesh remained. A lab coat that was perhaps once white clung to her skin in tatters, the fraying fabric seemingly graphed to her at its edges; it also covered the space her Cutie Mark would be. She had only a few wisps of hair left on her skull, and not many more in her tail. Her eyes were sunken and watery, and the teeth left in her mouth were all a rotting yellow. Just the sight of her brought a fetid smell to my mind.

The stallion stepped between us just as I pulled out my knife, pressing his rifle into my chest. I opened my mouth, shocked.

“Rolling...” the should-be-dead pony said again, “What... who is this?”

He didn’t respond. He was too busy staring me down. In my panic I had almost leaped on that thing, intent to kill it. But if this stallion was protecting it... maybe she wasn’t the monster she looked like. I slowly levitated my knife back into my saddlebag, and Rolling—it was so good to finally have a name attached to that face—relented, setting his weapon on a nearby stack of textbooks.

He stood up on his hind legs then, making another series of hoof gestures at the undead mare like he had done toward me earlier that day. She nodded in understanding, which made me frown. Was he... speaking with his hooves?

“Really?” she asked, raising the remnants of her eyebrows. More gestures. “Ha! Well, that’s one less bastard in the Wasteland. What about him?” She pointed at me. More gestures. “Well, that’s very selfless of you, and no, I don’t know either, but why?” Gestures. She let out a small chuckle. “And I thought my eyes were bad...” Rolling frowned, his motions turning briefly violent. “Relax, it was just a joke!” More gestures, and the mare’s face turned stoic. “He did what? I see...”

Finally, Rolling returned to all fours.

“Who... are you?” I cut in, still unnerved at the sight of this pony. “What’s wrong with you?”

“My name is Pitch, and are you telling me you’ve never seen a ghoul before?” the mare snarked.

“Ghoul?” The word tasted familiar, but sparked no memories.

“Yes, ghoul. This is what happens to ponies who absorb too much balefire radiation... when they don’t die from it, that is. I’m surprised you haven’t seen us before. Rolling tells me they’re quite common in most areas. Or, zombies are, rather.”

“Well, I... might have. I don’t remember.” A brief silence passed between us. “But, um, why did he save me?” I asked, remembering the reason I’d came here in the first place.

“Oh, yes, forgive me. I’m sure you’re aching to ask as many questions as poor Rolling Stone here has been. It’s not often we find new monsters in the Wasteland.” I scowled at her words. “Especially those that are sentient.”

“I’m not a monster,” I hissed.

“Oh, of course, sorry,” she stuttered, “Do you have a name for yourself, then?”

“Yes, but first I want to know why Rolling bothered to save this ‘monster.’” I don’t think I liked this ghoul. I wanted information, not to be insulted for my appearance. Especially by somepony as ugly as her.

“Hmm, fair enough. From what he tells me, you were engaged in combat with some of Garlic’s henchponies when he spotted you through his scope. Is that correct?”

“Yes...”

“Well, he said you looked like you might be a slave trying to escape in the confusion of battle. It was quite fortunate the townspeople had their little revolt when they did, otherwise he might have been stuck in Bulbs for another week or two waiting for the right moment. He was seeking revenge, you see. He used to work for Garlic a few years ago, but accidently killed a small, but significant, portion of one season’s crop because he overwatered. It was a rather minor thing to lose your tongue for, but Garlic, shortsighted bastard that he is, decided that would be the best punishment for somepony who’s special talent was singing.” She glanced at Rolling, but he turned away with a doleful look then, trotting through the door she had emerged from earlier.

“Right... anyway, he told me that he mistook you for a normal pony at that distance, but when he saw what you really looked like it didn’t matter. He said he didn’t care about anything but finishing off Garlic at that point. Didn’t matter what you looked like: if Garlic was trying to kill you, then you were probably worth saving. ‘Enemy of my enemy’ and all that jazz. That satisfy you?”

“I guess...” For now.

“I’m glad, but now I’d like to ask you a few questions of my own: what are you, and why did you follow Rolling back here when he couldn’t possibly tell you anything about himself?”

I hesitated. Should... should I tell her? She seemed knowledgeable, or at least willing to talk, but if she grasped at my true nature... “Well... I was curious, I guess. Ponies haven’t done much but try to kill me since I got here,” I replied, avoiding the first question.

“I don’t blame them. You’ve quite the intimidating visage. But again: what are you?” She leaned forward, insistent, almost smiling at me. I wasn’t getting out of this, but would it be wise? The more ponies who knew about me, the worse my chances of duping them would be. However, I wasn’t looking for love from this mare in the first place, and too many already knew about my true nature: Boss. Tulip. Potentially the whole of Bulbs now... One isolated ghoul couldn’t hurt me any more.

“Changeling. I’m a changeling.” I tensed. Just in case.

“Changeling? Ah!” I saw a spark of recognition in her eyes, and she gasped with joy. “Of course! How could I have forgotten? That makes perfect sense. Fascinating. I can’t believe you’re still around. You know, I hear the MoA was always quite envious of your abilities—would have made infiltration much easier—and I know at least one MAS project was trying to replicate your magic. Never did hear any details, though—too busy with my own research...”

“You’re not... angry?” I asked. I had been expecting some sort of counterlash, not this... excitement.

“Angry? Why would I be? That little wedding crash of yours was nothing compared to what the war did to us, and besides—everypony I loved is dead; you’re harmless to me! Now, I just want to learn more about you. I thought changelings were extinct by the end of the war. How have you survived? Where’d you find enough love in this terrible place?”

“That’s, um, a long story...” One I still didn’t know myself.

“Oh that’s not a problem. I’ve got all the time in the world, and I’m assuming you don’t have much else to do right now, do you?” Boy she was persistent. I grimaced, wondering what to say.

“Why... why do you care so much? Shouldn’t you hate me?” I asked. From the moment I was conscious, every fiber of being told me that ponies hate me. Every ounce of instinct warned me against exposing myself to them. They were prey, we the hunted predators. That Rolling Stone had saved me was baffling enough, but now this mare seemed genuinely curious about me and... almost friendly, despite the fact that my first reaction would have been to attack her had my savior not stepped in. I didn’t understand her acceptance.

“Hmm.” The mare sighed slowly, the sound reminding me of that noise I’d heard in the vent. “You don’t know anything about ghouls, correct?”

“Yes...”

“Well, we’re immortal, effectively. We can still be killed like anything else, but so long as we’re left alone we’ll keep going on indefinitely. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?” I nodded. “Yes... but here’s the catch: our minds don’t get any insurance. I wasn’t the only one ghoulified here by the balefire bombs. Many others were too, but... for one reason or another... they didn’t stay sane. Their minds started to deteriorate. They became beasts. Then less than beasts. ‘Zombies,’ I’m told they’re called. They’re mindless monsters who attack anypony who wanders near them until they’re finally put down. Doesn’t matter who you were before you went zombie. Mindlessness has one face.”

“I’ve lived for a very long time now, thanks to this condition. As I said, I’ve lost everyone I love. Everyone I knew. Even the others who’d been ghoulified eventually succumed to mind rot. It’s a terrifying experience, watching ponies you’d known for years become animalistic monsters. It shook me to my very soul. Every day I was afraid I wouldn’t wake up myself. I was afraid I’d join them in their mindlessness... I’ve been alone for so long; even Rolling I only met recently, and for a long while—and I mean generations—all I had was myself.”

“My curiosity has been the only thing that’s saved me. We had an archive here, and with nothing else to do I decided the best way to preserve my mind would be to expand it. Our back up generator still functioned, thank Celestia, and so I spent my years just... learning. Reading books and digital reports, re-reading them, conducting my own tests, memorizing some of the more famous scientific literatures... it was engrossing. Amazing. With all the time in the world I lost myself in the vastness of the universe’s complexity. By the time my computer’s screen finally went black over a century had passed, and I was brimming with knowledge. Another year and I had exhausted all the physical texts as well. As for experimentation... well, let’s just say there’s only so much physics you can do before you need a particle accelerator to make new progress. I’d worn out everything we had here after another decade.” She chuckled, but I didn’t get what was funny. “Anyway, if Rolling hadn’t stumbled upon this place after he escaped, I probably would have left to seek out something new to devote myself to by now, but with all the stigma and violence I’ve heard about... I have no combat experience, and though I’ve lived this long I’m not yet ready to risk my life out there.”

“So that is why I ask," she concluded, "I’m curious, and I need something new to learn about so I don’t go insane. You’re new, and you’re a huge unknown. So, care to tell?”

Well, that was more than I bargained for. I mulled over everything she’d dumped on me. I was a curiosity to her. I was interesting. She didn’t hate me for what I was—she didn’t know what I was, really, beyond a name and some abilities. She wanted to understand me, I realized. That was truly all she wanted.

“Alright. I’ll tell you my story,” I said, “but only if you answer some of my questions.”

“Questions?” She furrowed her brow. “About what?”

“Everything.”

A sly grin emerged onto her face. “Deal.”

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Telekinesis (Level 1) - You can’t do much, but a little goes a long way. You can now lift Light objects with your magic. +1 to Small Guns.

Author's Note

As always, thank you all for reading, and please leave any and all comments and/or criticism you have below. (I don't have editors so every little bit helps).

Also, thank you to Kkat for creating this universe in the first place, and all the others who have worked so hard to help expand and enrich it. You're all really awesome. /)^3^(\

Chapter 6: Background Stirrings

“If there ain’t no body, then there ain’t nobody dead.”

“Fascinating,” Pitch said. She had said that a lot during my story. “You’re sure you remember nothing else?”

“Yes,” I said, “I know there’s more, it just won’t come back.”

We were seated on the floor, the both of us and Rolling Stone, in the side-room Pitch had first emerged from. It turned out to be a fusion of a kitchen and bedroom. Apparently she had been so involved in her research that it had been more efficient to live here rather than go back to a home in one of the nearby towns. It clearly had not been designed to house more than one pony, but though the space was tight we were not cramped.

Around us was Pitch's very... interesting collection of memorabilia.

Almost a dozen poster lined the walls, all depicting the same mare: Rainbow Dash. When I’d first seen them my reaction had almost been as violent as when I’d seen the one with Applejack, but I managed to control myself. They were all amazingly well preserved, still holding the bright colors of her hair and uniform. The Wonderbolt uniform. Pitch gushed for quite some time about them and the Shadowbolts, how impressive their stunts were, how amazing a flier Rainbow Dash had been. I got tired of it quickly. I did not want to hear about one of the ponies my instincts told me was responsible for the terribleness in this world. A few statuettes sat on a desk, depicting all the Bolt members Rainbow Dash had ever flown with, along with a chipped wooden model of the mare herself, frozen in a victorious pose. A dusty pin sat to the side of them. ‘Official Rainbow Dash Fan Club Member,’ it said. I had given the collection a spiteful glare.

Luckily, I managed to steer our conversation back to the questions I wanted answered. We had been talking for many hours now, and the only light that remained in the room was that of the dim lamps she had set up near the sink. I had learned much about the Wasteland. Finally.

I knew of Stables: bastions of pony kind, built hastily in the years before the apocalypse. I knew how they had saved a great number of ponies in those first hours after the balefire, and how not all had persevered through the ensuing decades. I thought of seeking one out and getting love there, but the more Rolling—through Pitch—told me about what he knew the less that idea appealed to me. They were places of stability, but also confinement. Most were either shut off, decayed, or already integrated into the Wasteland at large. I figured conditions for love stealing in them would be the same as elsewhere: bad.

I knew of the War—or at least as much as she had known—how Celestia had resigned and Luna and the Ministries had taken over. There had been a great deal of secrecy from then on, and Pitch had been so focused on her work that she could not recount much. Despite her admiration for Rainbow Dash, she had not been privy to the MoA’s work. She told me scraps and rumors, and, most notably, nothing about Changelings. It seemed we had been irrelevant outside of a few small efforts to copy our magic.

“What did you do here?” I asked at one point.

“Not much.” The Professor—as she preferred to be called—laughed ruefully. “I’m sure you saw the acronym on the entrance: ‘NEARS.’ That stands for the National Equestrian Aeronautics Research Facility. The NEA was a small subdivision of the Ministry of Wartime Technology that I, personally, got started during the early days of the war.” She had beamed with pride then, and I could feel a faint hint of happiness radiating out from her.

“Air-o... what?” I asked.

“Aeronautics. Literally, ‘air navigation.’ The study and development of artificial flight. This facility was established to develop new technology and research new frontiers in non-magical flight capabilities. We made some good progress too, before those damn bombs went off...”

Flight? I tilted my head in confusion. “Didn’t you... already have pegasi?” She gave me a dirty look.

“Yes, I know we had pegasi,” she grumbled, “But I am not a pegasus! I am not Rainbow Dash! I want to fly, I don’t care if others already can! Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get this off the ground?” Rolling snickered silently at that pun, though I don’t think she realized she’d made it. “It took all my effort to convince the higher ups that this sort of research might be valuable, and every year since then it was a struggle to even get adequate funding! It felt like the war was halfway done by the time they gave me this facility, and don’t get me started on how I got this place staffed—” She was ranting, waving a hoof through the air as she spoke. Rolling grabbed it with one of his own in an effort to stop her. She frowned at him, but it seemed to work. Begrudgingly, she calmed down.

“Sorry. It’s infuriating, how close we got to mechanical flight. Our models were working, and we’d even had a successful take off. A few more months and even Earth Ponies would be able to strap on their own pair of wings. I was sure of it...” She sighed, the decay in her expression giving a haunting edge to her sadness.

* * * * *

We slept on the floor that night, because there was no room anywhere else. The bed that Professor Pitch once used had long ago disintegrated. I drifted off, but in the silence that eerie breathing from before crept through the walls of the room. I knew what it was from now. That had been one of my first questions.

Zombies; the Professor’s old coworkers and friends, all still aimlessly stalking the halls around us. She had never been able to bring herself to put them down, she said, and they served as a second layer of security from any raiders who might wander by. But, unlike the mines, zombies were as good at keeping ponies in as they were at keeping ponies out. I shivered as I imagined them surrounding us, all of them as grotesque as Pitch, with none of her sanity and all of a raider's viciousness. I did not rest soundly that night.

* * * * *

“...and that’s all the news for today, my little ponies. Keep fighting the good fight, and have some Sapphire Shores to cheer you up!”

The radio squealed softly as Rolling Stone twisted the dial with his magic, cutting off the song at its first chord. He had been listening to it since I had awoken, waiting for the DJ’s voice to come on. The songs that played were slow and melancholy, despairing tunes that reflected the dying hope in the time of the war. Rolling’s eyes had been closed as he listened to them, and though I saw him move his mouth to their lyrics I felt no joy from him. As we sat there I stared at his Cutie Mark, and the weight of his loss began to occur to me. He’d had a special talent, a passion he’d embraced. He’d had it ripped away from him, and would never get it back. More than simple communication, he’d been robbed of the ability to express himself on a fundamental level. His songs would remain forever unsung.

We stood in silence for a moment. The DJ’s report had not said much. Raiders here, slavers there, other dangers everywhere. More and more the perilousness of this world was beginning to root itself in my conscious, especially after what I’d learned from Pitch. I was no longer shocked by the stories of horror.

“Buggie, are you up yet?” I groaned as she called for me, breaking the somber mood.

“Don’t call me that,” I whined, trotting out into the main lab.

“Well then you’d better figure out a real name for yourself because I’m not going to address you as just ‘Changeling.’ Much too impersonal.” She spoke with her back to me, words muffled by the chalk stub she held in her mouth. She was scratching some new drawing into an unused corner of the blackboard.

“Changeling is fine,” I asserted, “I don’t want a name that isn’t my real one.” I had thought quite a bit about this the night before, as I was telling my story. I hadn’t needed a name so far, but my memories implied that I did have one. Pitch insisted I think of one for myself, but I didn’t see the point. My dreams were feeding me trickles of my past, and I was confident I would remember everything, given enough time. Right now there were many things more important to me than my name.

“Well anyway, my chitinous friend, have you looked into that memory orb yet?” she asked.

“No,” I replied. I was unsure I wanted to. Pitch had explained to me what the sphere was when I showed it to her, and I knew that I’d gotten even luckier with Tulip than I’d first thought. If the memory had kept her out of it until that morning, that meant it was an unusually long one. I, however, didn’t want to spend half a day locked in the memory of somepony who was more than likely long dead.

“Did you like that book I gave you?” I asked. Her ears perked up at that.

“Oh! Yes, it was a fascinating read. Thank you so much for letting me have it.” She had nearly jumped at the Survival Guide when she first caught sight of it, and when I offered it to her she sent a tasty morsel of happyness my way. New reading material was a rarity, apparently. Even now I was able to catch a few whiffs of appreciation. I sighed happily. The book was well worth the trade.

* * * * *

“Well, now that you’re both awake,” she said sometime later, “Let’s get down to business: I have a job for you two.”

“A job?” I asked, glancing up at her. My savior was sitting next to me, fiddling with his rifle. I had been watching him work when Pitch approached us.

“Well, it’s more of quest, really. I want you two to investigate a few things for me. Specifically: New Canterlot. That army you saw yesterday has me and Rolling worried.”

“Worried? Why?” I asked.

“After what you saw yesterday... I think they might be moving against the Steel Rangers.”

“Isn’t that good? They fought off the Zebra...”

“Possibly... but the Steel Rangers are more powerful than a single tribe of rampaging Zebra. They have military organization backed by more technology and more horsepower than anypony else in the Wasteland. It’s bad enough they’re enforcing those taxes over the Fields, but if New Canterlot provokes them, I fear they might become worse. And if I remember correctly, the last time the NCs tried to invoke any change all they proved was that they have a fierce bark but a soft bite.” She glanced at Rolling, and he nodded in agreement, still focused on his weapon.

“Okay, but... why do you care?” And moreover, why should I care? Sure, New Canterlot the city might be a good thing to look into, but I didn’t have time to get involved in local politics. Garlic’s love would sustain me for a while, but I was not going to be living off it forever. I had planned to rest here maybe a day more, then I would need to leave. Though I did regret that I would not be able to spend more time with Rolling. I liked his presence, even if we didn’t speak much. It was nice not to be alone.

“Because, as much as I’ve shut myself off from the world, I still care about what happens to it. I’m not asking you to prevent a war, I’m just asking you to find out what exactly New Canterlot is up to. That they would suddenly be on the march, after doing almost nothing for all this time... it’s just weird. Weird and worrisome.”

I mulled over what she had told me. I guess I could help her? It wouldn’t be that hard to spy on them for a few hours, get some information. But I'd have to trek there and back, and that would be time spent not getting love. “What’s in it for me?” I asked.

She smiled. “Ah-h-h! I was waiting for that question. I wouldn’t have asked you to begin with, Changeling, if I hadn’t had some real incentive. Rolling—you heard that rumor in Bulbs, right?” She glanced at him, and he nodded his confirmation. “Yes, apparently there’s a rumor going around that New Canterlot’s crown prince is getting married. Or just got married. I don’t know how true it is, but any time you spend getting information for me will also be time spent getting information for you. You don’t even have to come back when you’re done. Just help Rolling out for a bit, and he can report back to me. Plus, he can teach you a few survival tricks, right?” Another nod. “Does that sound acceptable?”

My eyes went wide. A marriage? More time with Rolling? Forget my reservations, this was perfect! This was exactly the opportunity I had been seeking. I was overjoyed by the possibilities. “I’ll do it,” I said.

* * * * *

The crawl back out was not as bad as the first. I knew what to expect now, and though I still could barely breath I at least knew how to deal with it. The ghoulish whispers were gone this time, drowned out by the drumming of rain from outside. It has started just as we were about to leave.

It was raining so hard that when we emerged I thought for a moment it was still night. The torrent roared around us, muting our hoofsteps and the activating beeps of the mines as we trudged away from the station. I shivered uncomfortably, pressed close to Rolling's side as he lead me through the blinding water. I didn't like being this wet, but Professor Pitch had insisted this cover was "just what we needed." It would protect us from running into anypony unsavory, and keep the other monsters in their dens.

The Wasteland was a quiet rumble until the skies ran dry.

A mist hung over the land, obscuring our vision briefly until the weak yellow light of midday pushed through. We found ourself at the edge of another old town then, far off from the course we had set back toward the highway. Our plan was to go to Maize, the direction the NC’s army had marched from, and find out what they had done there and where they were going. Not to Bulbs, I hoped. I did not want to go back there, now that I was known.

We stepped through the mud between soggy buildings, looking around. I was just trying to get my bearings, but from the way Rolling's head snapped back and forth, I suspected he was checking for danger. I felt like I was passing through a shipwreck. Over the years this town had sunk into the unstable ground, all its buildings listing slightly to one side or another. The whole place stank of rot.

"Are we going the right way?" I asked. I was still disoriented from the downpour.

He nodded yes after a pause, and we continued on, water still dripping from our saddlebags. Rolling stopped us at one of the more stable looking buildings—Gallop Police Department, an engraving said—and I followed him inside. Immediately, he started snooping around, and I quickly followed suit. Scavenging time, I figured. The room we were in was a wide entrance way, but it was bare save for a few chairs. Three double doors split off from it, and we set out to investigate each. I took the left way while Rolling went straight.

There was a hallway here, and though it held many doors not much lay beyond them. Mostly desks or their remnants, a few filing cabinets full of dust from papers not significant enough to be magically preserved, and the occasional defunct terminal. All I could scrounge was a single bottle cap from a trash bin. At the end of the slanted hallway, however, was something far more interesting. A skeleton, propped against a bullet-riddled door. There were scraps of metal around the floor here, and a black crater in the ceiling above them. I frowned at the sight, but started looking through the dead pony's saddlebags. Jackpot. More caps than I had time to count, plus a pile of canned food. Rolling would be very happy about this. His stomach had been growling since we'd set out.

I pushed passed the skeleton into the last room. It was of similar layout to the other offices, but it was remarkably more preserved. The floor here was not yet waterlogged, and the paint on its walls still held a brightness. A terminal glowed in the corner, but I went for the desk first. I smiled. In its drawers was a knife. Not a weapon, just a letter opener, but it had gold trim on both its handle and sheath and was sharpened to perfection. It glinted, even in the dimness of this place. I put it carefully into my bags.

I found nothing else in the desk, so I went to the terminal. Its screen lit up when I tapped on it, but I was unsure of how to use it. I pressed a few buttons at random, and a small dialogue suddenly popped up.

>Play Recording baltimarecase02.wav?

>Y/N

I raised an eyebrow. The Y was blinking. I scanned the keys for a moment and found one that said "Enter." I pressed it, and after a burst of static the recording began.

“What is the difference between magic and science?” the voice of a mare spoke, it was proud, confident, and, judging by the background noises I picked out, presenting itself in front of a large audience, "I'll admit, I struggled with this question for quite some time before I came up with an answer. Now, I know you might think the answer's obvious: magic is magical. Mystic. Fantastic. While science is grounded. Real. Mundane. But it's not that simple. We can study magic as we study science. We can test both and predict both. As our science advances to greater and greater levels so does our magic, and to most ponies, including myself, the line between them has become increasingly blurred. Technologies have been made to imitate spells. Magic has been made to augment machines. The barriers between their uses have decayed to almost nothing. So I ask you again: what is the difference between magic and science?"

How trite. A dead mare discussing semantics. It paints you poorly, Twilight.

"The difference, my little ponies, is that while both are fundamentally knowable, only science is fundamentally explainable.” A few confused mumbles came from the audience, as well as a few grunts of annoyance. “What do I mean by that? I mean that in all our scientific endeavors, in every test we’ve ever done, we’ve been able to come up with an explanation for why things happen the way they do. Why do apples fall from trees? How does lightning work? We can answer those questions with empirical data—gravity, electromagnetism—and we can then explain how those things work as well. In short, science is the constant exploration and explanation of the measurable world, and there is no answer posed within its realm that it cannot in turn answer.”

There was a small bookshelf on the wall opposite the door, and I sifted through the available titles as I listened to the speech. The speaker’s voice set me on edge. It was a voice from before. Twilight Sparkle. One of them—Applejack and Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash—one of those who killed the world. Hate bubbled from the memories locked in my mind.

“With magic, however, we cannot answer why. Why can pegasi fly and stand on clouds? Why can unicorns learn spells? Why can earth ponies tame nature so easily? The ‘answers’ are simply statements: because that’s what they are. Pegasi can walk on clouds because they are pegasi. Spells can be cast by unicorns because they are spells, and spells are cast by unicorns. There is no deeper reason. We have no fundamental forces in magic. We only have the vague notion that it works this way and does these things because that is how it has always worked and what it has always done. That is what I mean by knowable but not explainable. We can know how it works, but never why. I—"

The recording ended then, cutting off suddenly with another static burst. I stepped away from the bookshelf, having found nothing interesting—legal theory and faded almanacs—to see what had happened.

>baltimarecase02.wav END

>Return to Main?

>Y/N

I clicked yes, but instead of a new menu the screen suddenly flickered and went black. I pressed on a few more buttons, but nothing happened. The thing was dead. Weird. I turned away with a shrug, glad at least that I didn’t have to listen to that voice anymore. So innocent; so filled with joy by the thing she talked about. It almost made me question why I hated her so much.

* * * * *

Rolling practically tackled me when I gave him the cans, and we wolfed down our respective meals, though he made far more noise than I did. I was definitely glad I could travel with him. He was more than a skilled warrior, I realized, he could be a renewable source of affection.

“Mmm...” I sighed. He glanced at me from behind the can he was currently tipping into his mouth, raising an eyebrow over one of those stunning indigo irides. Yes, I definitely wouldn’t mind getting more affection from him. “Nothing,” I replied, “Did you find anything?”

He shook his head, going back to focusing on his breakfast, and motioned for me to take one of the cans.

“No thanks,” I said, “I’m not hungry.”

He simply shrugged at that, and made a quick pair of gestures with a free hoof. Pitch had taught me a few basic signs in the short time before we'd left, and these meant “your” and “way,” if I recalled correctly. “Suit yourself,” in this context, I figured.

* * * * *

The third hallway was bloody. Four bodies lay strewn across the floor, all riddled with bullets. Their broken armor was that of raiders, and their deaths were so recent they had yet to start smelling. Rolling and I moved cautiously through the carnage, our weapons drawn. Above us, attached to the ceiling, was a large turret. It appeared dead, and stayed that way as we peeked into the rooms here.

We found nothing but a flickering terminal in one of the offices. Rolling made it to the main menu once, but after that it kept dying, forcing him to reset each time. After giving up, we stepped back out and began looting the bodies. They didn't have much but caps, some dried meat, and a pistol, but the gun had a side holster and I took it happily. As we started to walk toward the exit, the building shook, and the lights flickered briefly back on. Above us there was a mechanical whirr.

I felt a bullet fly past the back of my neck as I jumped through the nearest door. I crouched down behind the doorway as the stream of bullets turned to Rolling. He had moved a second later than I, and was taking cover as I was in the opposite room. The turret stopped firing, but I could still hear the small noise of its movements. Rolling tried to pop out and shoot it, but it fired faster than he could bring his rifle to bear. I gasped as wood splintered above his head. He retreated, blinking dust out of his eyes. I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

"What do we do?" I hissed. He glanced at me, thinking. I looked around. There was a window here, but it was covered by metal bars. I assumed Rolling’s room would have the same. Damn. We were trapped.

Rolling waved a hoof at me. He started to sign, but stopped quickly after I gave him enough confused looks. Instead, he mimed jumping and running, and then pointed between me and the turret. My eyes went wide.

“You want me to distract it!?” I hoped I was reading him wrong. I wasn’t. “That’s crazy!” He gave me a long, annoyed look, and hefted his rifle.

I trotted in place, biting my lip. He needed a clear shot, I knew, but I wasn’t that agile. I’d reacted the moment that turret had activated and I still barely managed to avoid a second’s worth of fire. There was no way I could dodge it for long enough... but there was no other way out of here. We might be able to wait it out and hope for another power fluctuation, but, knowing my luck, it would turn back on the moment we stepped into the killzone. I let my breath out in a long hiss.

“We don’t have any other options, do we?”

No? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

I crouched, and saw Rolling ready his rifle. I let out a scream as I ran back into the hallway. Immediately the turret began spitting. I charged it, leaping into the air and doing my best attempt at a barrel roll in this confined space. I felt bullets tear past me as I hit a wall and bounced off, keeping myself stable with a quick flap of my wings. I was almost underneath it now, and I was running out of maneuvers. I fell back to the ground, skidding and trying to stop and pull myself around as fast as I could. Mistake. The turret traced my movement perfectly, nullifying my attempt to juke it and giving me no time to regain my lost velocity. A cold splash of terror overwhelmed me the moment before Rolling got his shot off.

I collapsed to the floor as the turret exploded, hyperventilating. The last bullet had passed right through one of the holes in my left foreleg. I was dead next shot. Rolling Stone galloped toward me, checking me over with a worried look.

“I’m alive!” I gasped after a moment, “I’m alive.” He let out a deep sigh, smiling.

I pulled myself together, and we quickly exited into the town. No more delay, we headed straight for Maize.

* * * * *

The city was quiet.

Chard had greeted me with a gaping maw, Bulbs with the security of a fortress, but when we pushed open the gateway to Maize all we found was desolation. There were no lights in this facility. The whole place was cold, dark, and void of any activity. I had been hesitant to step in, not because of the darkness, but because of the utter silence that rested over the place.

“Is this normal?” I asked Rolling Stone.

He shook his head, a spooked look on his face. Cautiously, we ventured in, Rolling guiding me with a faint light from his horn. That spell brought back bad memories, but I pushed them down.

I had disguised as Boysenberry when we first approached the massive facility, but as we wandered through the place we encounter not a single soul. After exploring the first level for long enough we realized that it was abandoned, so we decided to look for a way up. Our search did not end quickly.

I imagined this place to have the same layout as Bulbs, but the more we explored the more that notion faded. There were too many corners here. Too many turns and short hallways and corridors that led nowhere. This facility made no sense, but what was more unnerving was what we found the deeper in we went. At first there were only scorch marks, barely visible as streaks in Rolling's grey light, but soon enough they became blackened craters on the walls and floor. Splashes of dried blood followed. No bodies. Wreckage from a collapsed ceiling led us onto the next floor, but the destruction only increased. Rubble everywhere. Spent casings. Broken guns. More blood, and finally the corpse of a Steel Ranger, his side incinerated along with the canon the must have been there. Rolling tried to pry its twin from the mix of gore and molten metal, but it was far too heavy. He salvaged what else he could as I kept watch in the near darkness. Still the place was deathly silent.

After that body, the destruction dwindled to almost nothing. There were traces that the battle had continued—nicks in the walls, scattered bullet casings—but we found no more bodies.

It must have been an hour or so before we managed to work our way to the top floor. Each level was connected by a stairwell, but their positions were never consistent. One was at the south edge, another in the center, another in wide open room that held nothing else... the whole place felt thrown together. Like it had been built without any kind of plan.

We had still to find a single living pony. We found evidence aplenty: beds, tables, drinks, bowls of food, and a dozen other trinkets and possessions, all scattered and abandoned—but no hint as to where their owners had fled. A glint caught my eye, and I stepped over the leg of a smashed chair to probe through the inside of metal box that had been left open. I found caps, a few bullets, and some tools I didn’t recognize. I stuffed the caps into my bag and showed the box to Rolling. He was beside me, providing light as we scavenged.

“Are these useful?” I asked. My voice—Boysenberry’s voice—was soft and alto, I liked it much better than Tulip’s.

Rolling looked over the odd implements. He nodded enthusiastically at me, smiling. I smiled too, savoring every little bit of good emotion he gave me. I wondered briefly if he knew what he was providing. Should I tell him I was feeding off him? Surely he must know. He had been right there with Pitch as I told my story. I hadn’t been shy with the details... well, most of them. I hadn’t told them about what I’d done to Garlic, but that was an extreme case. I hadn’t known what I was doing... No, I decided, I wouldn’t bring it up. I didn’t want to risk it. I didn’t want to risk ruining this... companionship? Acquaintanceship? Friendship?

“Rolling,” I said suddenly, “are we friends?”

Rolling tilted his head at me quizzically. The faint light from his horn paled the rich color of his face, but caused his eyes to shimmer when he moved them. What was it with those eyes, anyway? They were such a pretty color... It suddenly dawned on me how secluded we were. The whole vastness of Maize, abandoned, and here we were, my savior and I, completely alone together... in the dark...

No. Don’t you dare start thinking that way.

For a moment all I could do was gaze blankly into his eyes, until the rational part of my brain kicked me back to reality. “I-I was just wondering,” I sputtered, “I mean, I know we just met, but you did save me...” I flicked my vision downward, feeling a flush come to my cheeks. By the Queen, what was wrong with me? Why was I so jittery all of a sudden?

When I looked back up, Rolling was staring at me. I couldn’t quite place the look on his face. It was... quiet. An expression held in neutrality. It disappeared in a blink, replaced by a wide smile. He placed a hoof on my shoulder before I could react, pulling me closer and sending a jolt through me. He nodded his response, giving me a quick squeeze, and I was flooded with relief. I could feel that he was genuine.

“Thanks,” I said.

A friend. I like that notion.

* * * * *

We reached the roof. Nothing.

“Where is everypony?” I asked, baffled. Pitch had said this was a city. Another sanctuary of civilization like Bulbs and Chard. Even Cathode had spoken of it as if it were still active. “Did New Canterlot do this?”

Rolling gave a shrug. He was near one of the city’s edges, scanning the horizon. There was quite a view from here; miles of dull, broken Wasteland. I trotted to Rolling’s side to see what he was looking at. Ah. That answered one of my questions. Maize’s plantation was north of us, and I could see activity swarming around it.

“I think we have to go back down,” I said, “Somepony down there can tell us what happened.” Rolling turned away from the sight, looking back at the roof entrance with a grimace. My expression mirrored his. I was not looking forward to the return journey either. “Let’s go.” Streaks of sunlight were making their way onto the underside of the cloud cover. Already the day was nearing its end.

* * * * *

“In that desolation I went to die, my life now purposeless. But there, instead of a lonely death, I found a great new future for the world. Before me, like the blinding sun, stood the figure of the Goddess—an alicorn! I beheld Her, and into my mind poured the truth of Unity. Celestia! Luna! Our beloved Goddesses were not slain by balefire, but transformed—rising anew like the Phoenix. This new Goddess has show me that we too can be purified by that holy fire; we too can ascend our mortal existence and become a greater power; we too can become Unity!”

The pony, a small buck wearing a pair of cracked glasses, preached before a circle of ragged onlookers. Their gazes varied from dull to evangelical; the few in the front looked up at the speaker with reverent expressions. One scowled at the voices behind them.

“What? What the hell is he talking about?”

“Goddesses? But they’re...”

“Dead? Do you believe deities can truly die?” the preacher challenged, “Do you believe that our beloved Celestia and Luna would abandon us to this hell for eternity?”

“Well, I don’t believe they’re dead, but they sure ain’t helpin’ us out any more...”

”Bah! Listen to me, my friends, you have too long been under the shadow of these clouds—the shadow of lies!” he proclaimed, “Listen to me! I have been blessed with this vision of truth: I have seen them, the Goddess's holy warriors, and they have told me of Her holy mission—of Unity! Listen close, and let me speak of it.”

This crowd was the first thing to greet us at the edge of the plantation. Whatever had happened here, it had caused most of the city to exodus and relocate. Tarps and metal scraps made up most of the newly erected shanty town, and a good majority of ponies, I could see, sat around doused fire pits with no shelter at all. Rolling and I stepped closer to the preacher as he kept speaking.

“Do you know what he’s talking about?” I asked.

I got a firm shake.

He... is he speaking of that Abomination?

“I have told you of the glory of Unity, but allow me to show it! As things are now, our lives are short, painful, and devoid of purpose. How many of you have lost your friends, your family? How many of you have had to kill to survive? How many of you have survived what you wish had killed? Think hard about your burdens, now. I know we all carry them." At his words the crowd to stirred. I saw ears perked up and a few sighs of genuine hurt. Beside me Rolling blinked rapidly, a shocked look on his face. A few flashes of pain from my week of life slipped into my mind. I shut them out as fast as they came. “As ponies we are divided and hateful of each other, and we have forgotten so many of the morals from Before. We have all felt pain and loss, and we all long for something better. I am here to offer it to you.” He paused then, and I saw his eyes sweep across the crowd. He measured his impact. Calculating behind those shattered spectacles. I stepped forward just a pace, eager to hear his next words.

“I am here to offer you salvation,” he repeated, licking his lips, “And the salvation I offer is Unity! It is not a place nor a people, but a state of existence. In it you will have no need to fear this world; your life will have meaning, a purpose beyond survival. The Goddess whom I saw commands you there, but you need not fear tyranny nor death, for in Unity you are Her children, and She your mother. She will alleviate you of pain, purge you of fear, and grant you power the likes of which this world has long ago forgotten. She will bear all your weight, and the only thing She asks is that you wish her to. Please, my friends, I offer you only a peace with this world."

The crowd was silent. Shortly, a mare spoke up. She was pale yellow with murky white hair, and her voice quavered. “Where is she? Where is the Goddess?”

“Ah, I’m glad you asked that, my sister. The Goddess lives in the perilous ruins of an ancient fortress far in the north. Monstrosities and horrors plague the journey there, but do not fear—I have spread Her word here, and if I have convinced you, join me—join Unity! As we make our way toward her domain, She will send Her holy warriors to protect us, this She has promised me. All we need do is set off, and soon enough they will guide us home. We will fear no evil, for She will shepherd us—for now and forever. Thank you my little ponies, for hearing my words. We leave tomorrow morning, to seek a world of more glorious dawns.”

He stepped down from the rusted metal bucket he had been using as a pedestal, and I heard the mud squish beneath his hooves. The crowd dissipated slowly, many ponies lingering to speak with the preacher in person. A look passed between Rolling and I, but I was not sure what it meant. I felt a pang of desperation as I wondered what was going through his mind; had that pony evoked the pain of his loss? What did he think of all that? I asked him, but all I could make out were the signs ‘good’ and ‘bad.’ A mixed reaction, I guess, but that didn’t say much.

“He’s lying," I blurted.

Rolling raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, “I just feel like... I’ve heard of the Goddess before. She’s not good.”

She is an Abomination. That thing should not exist.

A whisper passed through my mind, but I was not surprised this time when it vanished as soon as I concentrated on it.

* * * * *

"The NCs? Boy, do I have a story for you!”

Our quest for information was going smoother than I could have hoped. New Canterlot was the only thing the ponies of Maize could talk about!

"They came down two days ago, right as I was finishing my shift—I work real early in th' mornings, ya see, so I can get done by lunch—and they just came marching down from the horizon, wavin' that flag of theirs." The stallion we were interviewing was a farmhand on Maize's Plantation. Farmhand. Not slave. I had yet to see a single bomb collar, and though there were similar defenses around their corn crops, the guards were not looking down on us with malice. A few did seem annoyed at the influx of ponies however. "I didn't see what they did after that, on account of lunch, but about a half hour later I heard some small explosions and then next thing I know everypony from Maize is stampeding toward us. As I heard it, the NCs picked a fight with the Rangers and knocked out the lighting system. Not sure why they haven't fixed it yet, though. Its not like its Bulbs, y’know. Complex. Reliable."

"Yes, that does seem odd..." I said. The story matched what we'd heard from everypony else so far, which was unfortunate. We'd yet to hear any first person accounts. "You wouldn't happen to know anypony who saw them fighting, or where they went would you?"

"Who saw? Nah, nopony I know saw 'em. And I have no idea where they ran off to. One of the mayors might know, I think."

"Oh, where could I find them?" Mayors? Plural?

"I... don't rightly know. He might, though." He pointed a hoof to someplace behind me, and I turned to follow it. There was a dark yellow unicorn, with long, knotty green hair wading lazily through the townspeople's camp. His Cutie Mark was an eyeball peeking out from behind a large corn husk. "That's Cobb, my boss. He probably knows."

Ah, another plantation owner. His operation, at least seemed far less vicious than Garlic's, but that said little about the pony himself. I noticed most others were giving him space as he walked by. "Thanks for the information," I said.

"No problem. Anything for a pretty lady," the farmhand replied, winking.

"Oh." I giggled despite myself, trying to hide a smile with a hoof. "Um... well, thank you. Come on Rolling, let's go catch up." Pretty? Well, I couldn't say the same for him, but a compliment is a compliment. Especially when it's true. I giggled again, and beside me I saw Rolling facehoof.

I have been doing almost nothing but that for the last four days. You're going to drive me as crazy as these guards think I am.

We caught up with Cobb shortly, and I coughed to get his attention. "Excuse me, sir, I was told you might know where the, uh, mayors are."

He turned slowly at my voice, almost a delayed reaction, and stared at me for a moment. I took a step back instinctively, recalling my experience with Garlic. I stole a glance at Rolling. He shared my reservations through the expression on his face.

“Which city did you come from?” Cobb finally asked.

“Which... why?”

“I overheard some of your talk with Mold. You just arrived, correct? Did you run into the NCs on your way here? And again, where did you come from?” He spoke in bursts, pausing briefly between each sentence, as if he had to think very hard on each word in them.

“We, um... just came from Bulbs. We saw the NCs... from a distance... heading south yesterday. Why?”

“Yesterday...” he repeated the word slowly, his gaze distant. “Thank you. Twist and Turn are in my office, in the center of the Plantation. Knock before you enter. If my guards give you trouble the password is ‘blueberries.’”

“Thank you—” I started.

“Are you going back to Bulbs soon? Sorry. This is important.”

“Um, maybe...” I said, “We want to... get more details from the mayors here before we leave. I’ll... I might stop by Bulbs after that.” That was a lie. I had no plans to ever go back, but I wanted to know what this stallion wanted. He was so different from anypony I’d met so far.

“Hmm. Talk to them first, then if you know whether you’ll go to Bulbs find me. I have a message for Garlic, and nopony is willing to follow in the NCs’ path right now. I need it to be delivered.”

“Uh...” Rolling and I shared a look. Cobb caught it.

“What? Tell me.”

“It’s nothing—”

“Tell me.” He took a step closer, and a coldness shot through me. The look on his face... it was still calculating, but it had turned its measurements from those unknown thoughts to me. Rolling tensed. “Tell me,” Cobb repeated, “Something happened. What?”

“Garlic... Garlic’s dead.” I gulped.

“Truly?” Cobb backed off, his face questioning.

“Y-yes. Happened the day we left. There was a... fight between him and one of the townsfolk.”

Cobb stared at us for a long second, his eyes flicked to Rolling and back. Mine followed. “I see,” he said. “That changes things. I assume you two were not there when someone became his successor?” He might have raised an eyebrow, but it was such a little gesture that it looked like only a twitch.

“No... we didn’t catch their name.”

“Hmm. Well, thank you. After you visit the mayors, my request still holds. I have a larger job for you now. Goodbye.” With that he turned on a dime and strode away, his disheveled hair flapping from one side of his neck to the other. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“You ever met a pony like that before?” I asked Rolling.

He shook his head.

* * * * *

“Boysen? Boysen is that you!?” We were almost to the plantation’s gate when the voice called out to me. A temporary market had formed around here, it seemed, and I looked over to see a lavender mare waving at me from one of the booths that had been set up. Well, ‘booth’ gave too much credit to its construction. It was a small square fenced off by metal scraps with a table as its front. On it was another ‘Berry Wears’ sign, and as I approached the mare who called out to me I saw several boxes of its advertised medicine.

“Oh hello,” I said, forcing a smile, “Nice to see you again!"

I heard Rolling follow me with hesitant footsteps. I didn’t want to get distracted by this either, but if I didn’t respond I would look suspicious. Of all the ponies to be recognized here, why did it have to be some other town’s drunk?

“It’s been so long, what are you doing here?” the mare chirped, “I thought you were still in Chard!” She leaned over the table with open arms, and I gave her a quick hug, laughing nervously. At least I was getting some love off her.

“Oh, you know, that place just got too dreary. I decided to see if one of these other facilities had it any better. How have you been?” I tried to shift the subject to her. That familiar panic of working on zero information was gripping at my chest. I breathed in, trying to steady myself. I could do this. This was easy. She wasn’t brutal or suspicious—we were just friends, catching up. I had nothing to fear, so long as I didn’t say anything stupid. Just talk friendly. Be normal.

“Oh, same old same old,” she replied, “just trying to keep the trade going. It was getting pretty hard after the Rangers moved in, but it looks like we won’t have to be dealing with them for much longer, huh? Those NCs whipped ‘em something good.” She punch a hoof through the air to emphasize her words. “But anyway, let’s hear about you! Anything interesting happen lately? I see you’ve got a colt friend."

Colt friend? I glanced at who she motioned to. Oh, she meant Rolling?

Yeah, I could go with that.

I grinned at him, even as he gave me a weary look. “Ah yes,” I said, sliding to his side and wrapping a hoof around him like he had done to me earlier, “We met just a few weeks ago. He saved me from a group of vicious slavers!” I felt him tense a bit at the sudden act, but he reciprocated the gesture after he understood what I was doing. I felt him enjoying this.

"Slavers? Celestia, girl, they didn't do anything, did they?"

"Oh no, no, nothing... terrible,” I lied, “I managed to get myself free at first actually, but they had me cornered. I so afraid that... that it felt like the fear itself would kill me! Luckily Rolling, my savior, showed up ar that very moment. He shot all of them without taking a scratch, and we freed everypony else! I'm so grateful to have met him, he's so, well..." I laughed, nuzzling Rolling. I couldn't think of a way to finish that sentence. It was easy enough to sew together a story from my experiences, but that last line had spilled out without much thought. I felt my cheeks burning again. Rolling was nuzzling back; really enjoying this.

"How romantic," said a voice that stopped me cold, "But that's not how I remember things."

I swung around, my eyes wide. Boss. Boss was standing right in front of me.

“Hello Changeling.” His horn flared with magic.

I tried to jump away. I tried to yell at Rolling to run. All I could do was grunt as I was forced to the ground. Pressure. Pressure filled my ears. My body was like lead submerged at the bottom of the ocean. It was a struggle to even breath. The top of my body pushed painfully down on the rest. Every inch of me felt like it was being crushed. I heard Boysenberry’s friend scream something. I heard more commotion. I heard another grunt next to me, and Rolling’s rifle clatter to the ground.

“Show them, Changeling.” From where I was I could see ponies gathering around us. Some shouted in our defense. Some raised weapons. Boss flared his horn, and the guns fell to the ground with a collective ‘THUNK,’ too heavy to be lifted, even with magic. How did he know? How could he know it was me?

“Show them, Changeling. I don’t have all day.” He was standing above me now, a sickly green light flashing on the corner of his PipBuck. As he spoke the aura around his horn increased steadily, as did the weight on my chest. I couldn’t even gasp now. I managed to breathe in once, but it took more energy to move my chest than the oxygen I took in was able to restore. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Air. Air!

Survive!

I triggered my magic, and the pressure faded completely. I lay on the ground, gasping for breath, exposed and defeated. I could probably move again, but I hurt to much try. Already ponies were recoiling in confusion.

"B-Boysen? What..."

"What the hell is that thing?"

"The fuck? Was that just a pony?"

"Hairpins!" Boss shouted, ignoring the commotion around him. "Get a pair of collars, and tell everyone else we're done here."

Collars. A spark ran through me. I was on my feet, ignoring the splintering ache in my body. I charged the red stallion, my jaw open, my new pistol floating weakly at my side. I wasn't able to even get an unaimed shot off before I collapsed again, my muscles unable to support the weight of a mountain. My head smacked into the ground. A burst of dizziness. Darkness.

Survive.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

Canterlot. We returned to a city in ruin.

Clouds swirled above that mountain now, their omnipotent shadows spread a bleakness over the once golden tops of the capital’s towers and roofs. Buildings that once represented the pinnacle of those ponies’ power were now in collapse, scattered with the skeletons of those who had once built them up. A foul pink mist spread throughout its streets, oozing across the stone like the smoke from a dying dragon. Shattered glass and a thousand other broken things littered the place, evidence of those last panicked moments after the bomb unleashed its plague.

The Queen smiled at this terrible sight.

“Not even Celestia could escape this death!” We quivered with sick pleasure, relishing the fate of our most hated enemy. But it was a short-lasted happiness, for we knew that with her death so too had love died. Not all love, not love as a concept, certainly, but love in abundance. Balefire had torn Equestria asunder, and love could no longer flourish here. This wretched sight was the conclusion to the long, arduous decline that War had brought to the world, and we suffered in its fallout.

Though we had dodged the first flames, the balefire was just as devastating to us as it had been to all the others. Our land was poisoned with foul air. The Hive grew thin and we hateful, and there was no choice but to flee. Those we had sent to the north were lost when the bombs fell, and the Empire along with them. Our last source of love, gone. For years we starved, eeking out only the barest existence as the realization of our doom dawned on us. Love had long since dwindled, and the world was turning curel. The Zebra tribes were too scattered and too close knit too fool. The Griffins were too cold. The Stables were shut to us, and the ponies that had survived outside had become either too brutal or too broken to feed from en masses. The pegasi we didn’t dare approach. Their eyes were too keen. Their skies too tightly closed.

We had nothing to eat. So now we were here.

“Careful,” the Queen hissed as we flew into the city, “I don’t know what new dangers might be here.” None of us did. None of us could have known. The first death was the most painful.

I was searching through a tower then, when we felt him die. There was a room here, in its pinnacle, a suite for important ponies. The stairs that led up to it had been blown away by some unknown blast. That was what had attracted me here. It was the only one to have been damaged in such a way.

This place was barren, having been striped by time and that pink gas. A skeleton still rested on the bed, but I ignored it. It was not what we came for. There was a chest here, and a dimly glowing terminal. They attracted my attention. I went for the chest first. I understood its workings better. I had to blast the lock off. The spell was difficult to cast. I had never been very good with this sort of magic, not like the Queen. I was much better at crafting the traps; maintaining our buildings; healing, if need be. My horn smoked equally with the ruined metal.

The chest was full of many things, and there was a note at the very top. I tossed it aside, and began rummaging through the chest, looking for something. I did not find it. What I did find, though, confused me greatly. There was a small red figurine made out of springs and wood, several abstract portraits of what I assumed to be the same stallion, and a stuffed pink pony doll with a giant head. Along with all this was a plethora of photographs and news clippings, all about the same red stallion.

A bizarre shrine, but an unimportant one. What I was looking for was not here. I had not really expected it to be. It would be an odd place to find a crystal.

Next, I went to the terminal. Sometimes they had useful information, if we could get them to work. It flickered to life. There was no security. I flipped through its screens quickly, seeing only personal data. Records. Memories. Photos. Nothing relevant. Nothing important.

It was then Formi died. The noise ripped through our minds like lightning through water, a shriek that faded as quickly as it had come, leaving us crippled in shock. Emptiness. He was simply gone. Gone in a burst of pain from nowhere. Another strike of lightning followed, and I gasped—we saw an image of those monsters, gnashing madly at one of our own. Vespula. She was torn to shreds an instant later. Another emptiness. The sudden gaps filled our minds with despair, and our Queen’s heart with fury and ache.

Not another—not another of my children! We heard her scream, both in our minds and through our ears, and we felt her pain. Too many had died already.

“Celestia! Luna! Twilight Sparkle!” she spat, “I will not share in your ruin, I will remake this world—I will make it my world! I will foster love from this place again, but we will be the ones to enjoy it this time. Not you wasteful beings. We will rule this world, my dearly departed princesses. We will rule it, and feed off the love of its ponies. Forever!” With another cry of rage she dove upon a pack of zombies, blasting them in a fit of spite.

It was not a wise move. It wasted too much energy.

“Find it!” she commanded, “I know there is one here.”

On we went, still searching, driven faster by rage and grief, looking, looking... but finding nothing. Not until we entered the throne room. The Queen ventured there herself, fearing one us of fall to another trap, or more monsters.

There! We felt relief swell up in her mind. There is one, I have it. Now let us leave this terrible place. We’ve found what we need. With a blast of magic that drained more of our precious energy she teleported out, hovering above us as we crawled into open space to join her. Beside her hovered our prize, refracting the light of her magic in all directions. We did not smile at the sight.

We had lost five more of ourselves. We now numbered less than fifty. We had found what we came for, but we had paid too much for it. And there were still so many more shards to find. A great blackness consumed our minds. We began to wonder if there was any hope at all. Our Queen’s plan was formed on a rumor, a legend from before the war, and already it was starting to fail.

“No no, it will work... it will work... we just need all of them. All of the crystal shards... yes... it will work..."

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

It will work. It can still work. Just survive. Survive. Feed. It will work. I will escape. It will work...

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Empathy of the Mind - With understanding comes friendship. New dialogue options available when successfully disguised. +5 Speech.

Author's Note

As always, thank you all for reading, and please leave any and all comments and/or criticism you have below. (I don't have editors so every little bit helps).

Also, thank you to Kkat for creating this universe in the first place, and all the others who have worked so hard to help expand and enrich it. You're all really awesome. /)^3^(\

Chapter 7: Red

“You're trying to kidnap what I've rightfully stolen.”

The waking world greeted me with harsh words and a hard kick to the gut.

“Rise and shine, you fucking bug!” Tumbleweed jeered. I coughed, rolling away from him with a groan. I felt another bomb collar around my neck. "Get up! The day's getting old."

I struggled to my feet. The ache in my body had lessened but it was still hard to fight through. I looked for Rolling, and my heart sunk when I found him. He was also in a collar, stripped of his bags and rifle with a trickle of blood drying on this forehead. Holster stood guard near him, as Tumbleweed was doing to me. Tumbleweed... he was smiling at me, jittery, with bags under his eyes, and obviously overjoyed. A deep scar ran across the right side of his neck, a pattern of twisting, burnt flesh. I wondered briefly where that had come from, but the bigger question on my mind was how to escape.

We hadn't moved since I passed out, and I saw Hairpins staring down the disarmed mob around us, her teeth on her battle saddle's bit. Cobb was at their front, speaking quietly to Boss. A bubble was around them; whether by fear or authority, nopony dared approach. I waited anxiously, flinching at a few feints from Tumbleweed. He laughed. I was a bit shocked at his sadism—though I guess I had left him for dead. That fact did not stop me from resenting him, though. Him, Boss, and the rest of these slaving scum.

“Tumble!” Boss shouted. He was apparently done with his conversation with Cobb. “Stop fuckin’ around and get them to the wagon.”

Tumbleweed pushed me forward, away from the shanty town. Hairpins did the same to Rolling, though more gently. I saw nothing but scowls from the ponies around us, but none of them moved to stop the slavers. “Help us!” I cried. I tried to catch Cobb’s eye—surely he wouldn’t let them just take us—but he merely grimaced, throwing a sorrowful look towards Rolling.

“Let them try,” Boss taunted, “I’ve still got a quota to fill after what you did.” A mumble went through the crowd around us, and the ponies slowly scattered. I lowered my head in defeat.

* * * * *

“Hey Boss, check out this beauty!” Holster held up the letter opener I’d found. The rest of my belongings were scattered on the ground in front of him, along with my saddlebags.

“Hey!’ shouted Tumbleweed, “Those are my bags." He scooped them up and snatched the small knife from Holster's hoof. "And so is this."

"Says who?"

"Says me." Tumbleweed threw everything back into the bags, turning back to me with a glare. "I figure I deserve it after all this fucker put me through."

We were near the corner of Maize, where the slave wagon was parked far from any onlookers. Fishhooks was here as well, but no other slavers. She had been watching over the buck that had attacked me the night I'd freed him. He had greeted me with a look that was at once triumphant and resentful. I did my best to ignore him as all three of us stood there, waiting for our captors to set out.

"Oh stop yer whinin'," Hairpins drawled. "Ah nearly been lynched dozens a’ times but ya don't see me askin' fer special treatment." Lynched? Why would he have been—? Oh. He must have wandered into Chard after he woke up. That explained the scar.

"...that’s bullshit." Tumbleweed muttered.

"Nah, jus’ hyperbole, but mah point still stands."

"I saved your life anyway," I interjected. "Bright Lights would have killed you." At the mention of that pony, Tumbleweed's eyes widened. He choked on his response for just a moment.

"Fuck you, bug!" he said, “Who said you could talk?”

"Enough," said Boss. He had been fiddling with something inside the wagon, but was done now and had hopped onto its top. "It's already late, we need to start moving. Fishie, you're pulling. Holster and Tumble, get some rest. Changeling, if I so much has hear you cast a spell I’ll cave your friend’s head." I drew in a sharp breath. Boss was staring down at me with hateful eyes. The cloth he was wearing looked somehow even more shredded and dirty than before.

I struggled to keep my expression neutral. He was threatening Rolling? My savior? I felt a burning inside, mixed up with a horrible helplessness. I imagined the feeling of his neck breaking between my jaws; the taste. Hair and hot blood and dirty skin—a putrid taste. At the same time, I feared for Rolling. Feared for him laying bloody on the ground and me no better off for it. I desperately wanted out of this situation—I needed to go after New Canterlot; its prince; its love—but I owed him my life. It would be easy to slip out of this collar again. Easy and quick enough to do while Boss was asleep, but I could not save Rolling from whomever would be guarding us.

I lowered my gaze, and nodded.

“Alright, Fishie, let’s get moving,” Boss said.

We fell into step behind the wagon, Hairpins at our rear. Rolling walked at my side, while that yellow buck plodded on behind us.

My chest was full of butterflies, and they would not go away. This was the worst thing that could have happened. Boss. I never thought I’d run into him again after that night—I’d never considered it, really. That he might know about me, sure—I had no doubt that he’d interrogated the yellow buck—but for him to pick me out of a crowd, when I was disguised as some random drunk... I squeezed my eyes shut. That should have been impossible! This shouldn’t be happening.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, staring at the ground. “This is all my fault.”

That was the worst of it, that I’d dragged Rolling into it. The only one in the whole world I could call a friend, and I’d helped put him into a bomb collar again.

He bumped me with a hoof, forcing my gaze up. He looked at me with determined eyes, and shook his head. I got no good feelings from him, but at least he didn’t hate me. I nodded sheepishly, and went back to the ground.

I had no idea where Boss was taking us. We were going south, far south, and though it was getting dark part of me doubted we would be stopping very soon. Boss was fidgety, and the whole party seemed anxious. Hairpins hardly talked as we walked.

* * * * *

The night was cold. I shivered as I pressed up against Rolling, once again grateful for his presence. I could hear that yellow buck's teeth chattering behind us. We had been marching nonstop for hours now. Hairpins and Fishhooks had finished with their guard shifts some time ago, and were now sleeping in the wagon. Tumbleweed was now behind us, while Holster was pulling. He had rolled his neck and stretched his back when he'd first stepped out, cursing under his breath. Sleeping in a cramped compartment had not improved his attitude toward me.

"Fucking bug," I heard him whisper, "We couldda been done with this shit by now... too fucking cold out... fucking bug..."

Boss was somehow still awake on the top of the wagon. He had been staring down at me whenever I looked up, his eyes still red and tired. He had said only one thing since we set off.

"Changeling, you can turn yourself into anypony you want? Anypony at all?"

"Yes," I replied.

* * * * *

We stopped after a while, and though it was pitch black I realized that we were in the city Rolling and I had visited earlier. The outline of the police station tipped me off. They boarded us up in a storage room of an old grocery store, with Hairpins standing guard, but it was wasted effort. I was too sleepy to even think of fighting back now. I had been struggling to even walk straight, and my eyes felt like lead. I curled up on the ground the moment they pushed us in there. I would rest now. Fight later. I was too tired to even try to think of a plan.

* * * * *

They did not let us sleep for long. It was barely dawn when they hauled us back out, and there was a thin fog to the north. We got some of the cans Rolling and I had scavenged to eat and time to relieve ourselves, but we were hurried along all the way. Boss growled at us to pick up the pace, and we continued on.

Bulbs. After too many hours of walking we neared the city. Smoke curled up into the clouds from between its hills, and as we came closer I saw that it came from the Plantation. Or what was left of it. It’s gate and much of the bordering fence had been toppled over, along with a great many of the watchtowers. I couldn’t tell what damage had been done to the crops, but the smoke came from its buildings, and I could see that the slave quarters had been completely demolished. I made out a few forms wandering through the area, as well as ponies going to and from Bulbs, but more details than that I was not able to see.

The flag of New Canterlot hung from the Facility's roof, its steel sun still rising. Everyone but Holster, who was pulling the wagon, stared at it in silence as we passed by. I looked up at Boss, and saw him transfixed, his normally tired-but-stoic demeanor broken down by surprise. He glanced down at me once it had moved out of sight.

"Why are you scared of them?" I asked.

"What's it to you?"

"I'm curious."

"Be glad you're not dead. The only thing you should be curious about any more is whether your back, legs, or ass will give out first once we sell you."

"My what? What's—?"

"Shut up!" he snapped, "I hate that fucking bug voice you've got."

I lowered my head again, and I noticed Rolling giving me a concerned look. I raised an eyebrow, but he just looked away. Behind us I heard Hairpins mutter,

"We hoped t' be done with this long b'fore th' NCs moved out. They don't take kindly t' slavers."

That... that was just more confusing. How would these ponies know about what the NCs were planning?

* * * * *

After a full day of walking and an actual night's rest, we arrived at our destination. The mountains loomed here, bringing back memories of my first day and all the mysteries that had greeted me. Of all the things, I found myself wondering about those dead pegasi. I'd forgotten about them.

We were on a dirt road now, another dead field surrounding us. The land jutted up into hills that cut into our path like a pair of arms extended for an embrace. A gate’s remnants were set between them, rusted scraps sticking out of the cut rock. As we passed through them I craned my neck to see what was in front of us. There was a large building, similar to the facilities, but with a side that looked like it had actually been presentable at one time. There was a set of stairs, leading up to an old pair of double doors, and a terrace above them. Painted there were the faded letters, "P ... N ... ... W I N E ... Y, " but what I noticed more was the creature who was standing there. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Bigger than any pony, as we neared I could see that it was covered in black feathers and had a beak as large as my head. It watched us as we approached, a dark red ember around both its eyes.

Griffin.

Griffin. I remembered now. They had been warriors from the start, obsessed with their honor. Another was waiting for us at the front, his coat white and brown. He gripped a small canon in his right hand, and waved us to the side of the building with it. Our convoy followed him, and we entered through a small door that was hidden there. The wagon was left outside, and the three of us slaves were shuffled in. Two more griffins greeted us inside, each with similar color schemes to the one who had ushered us in. They were standing around a small table, holding dirty cards above a pile of caps.

"Ah! Fuckin' finally, some business!" one of them cried, setting his hand down and lumbering toward us, "How many you got for us, pony?"

"Three," Boss said.

"Three? Fuck, man that's it? And what the fuck is that thing?" He lowered himself toward me, one of his wide, silvery eyes examining me intensely. “Looks like one of those bat-freaks.”

“It’s a Changeling,” Boss said, “That thing’s the reason I only brought three. He freed the others I was bringing.”

“Well shit, that’s not our problem. I don’t know if we want to buy only three...” He glanced back at his partner at the table, who shrugged his shoulders, still looking at his cards. “I’ll have to go check our stock. I’ll give you six hundred per head if I see we need ‘em that bad.” He turned to leave.

“Hold on,” Boss said, “That Changeling is worth at least three times a normal pony.”

I’m inclined to agree with him on that point.

“Pff. What? Why?”

Boss turned to me, his weapon hanging in the air beside Rolling’s head. “Show them,” he said. I glared at him, but triggered my magic. Now I was a perfect copy of him. He gave a short chuckle, but them smacked me with a hoof. “Funny. Show them some others.” I did, my face burning. Boysen, Cobb, Hairpins, Tumbleweed. He stopped me in that last form, turning back to the griffin.

“From what I hear, Red Eye is working all the slaves he’s getting to something grand. A creature like this would be a boon to someone like him. And it’s one of a kind, surely worth more than any group of tired ponies.”

“Ha, right, like you’d know, pony. Red Eye’s work is just work. It doesn’t matter if it flies, swims, or shoots magic out of its butt—so long as it can be worked to death it will.”

“Hey man, I can think of some good uses for it,” the griffin at the table commented. His companion dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand and a roll of his eyes.

“Ignore him. We’re not interested in what other abilities your slaves might have. We’ll give you six-hundred a head, we don’t care what it looks like.”

Beside me I could see both Rolling and the yellow buck scowling at our captors. My own hatred was stewing inside me. I wanted to move. To run. To kill these people who were talking about me like property and go after what I still craved. It had been only a day since I last tasted a good feeling, but already the hunger was pushing at the edges of my mind. Feed, it said, kill and feed!

“Bullshit,” replied Boss, “That pony has done nothing but ask for slaves for the last howeverthefuck long. You’ve heard all the rumors around him, there’s no way he couldn’t use something like this.”

“Look, pony,” the griffin said, jabbing a claw into Boss’s chest, “Red Eye asked us for workers, and that’s what we provide. We don’t care what he does with them after we deliver. You should be glad we even stick around here to buy your measly load—there’s hardly enough traffic anymore to justify an outpost like this.”

"Bull—!"

“Six-hundred a head, take it or leave it. That’s our final offer.” The two monsters glared at each other. The griffin at the table had a hand on his gun.

“Eighteen-hundred...” said Tumbleweed.

“That ain’t enough... that’s barely enough fer two... ” Hairpins muttered.

Boss grit his teeth, eyes still locked with the griffin. “I know,” he said, “But... that’s about two less than three.” The griffin raised an eyebrow. I didn’t catch what prompted it.

Boss turned around, facing us and his companions. Without another word he triggered his magic, and Hairpins and Tumbleweed collapsed to the floor, a red aura surrounding each. They gasped once and fell into a silent struggle. I saw Tumbleweed’s face burning with rage as he strained to raise his head, but Hairpins just fell still after a few twitches, expression frozen in shock. Fishhooks gasped, eyes wide.

“Boss what the fuck!?” Holster shouted, backing away. I saw him go for his weapon, but Boss shouted him down.

“Don’t be an idiot, Holster! I’m not staying around here any fucking longer, you can come with us or not, I don’t fucking care, but don’t even think about getting bitchy just because you like some ponies as slaves but not others.” Holster swallowed, looking at his former companions. He nodded in agreement, but tore himself away and trotted out the way we had come, pushing past the griffin still standing there. Fishhooks stood still, looking at Boss like she’d never seen him before.

“Pins...” I heard her whisper.

By now the griffins had moved to disarm the two helpless ponies, and Boss released his hold on them. They gasped, as desperate for breath as I had been, and the griffin who had been at the table kept them pinned to the ground, his hands on their necks. He was grinning as he stood over them.

“You fucker...” Tumbleweed croaked.

“Five for three thousand,” Boss said, turning back to the first griffin.

He smiled. “We have a deal.”

* * * * *

“Ah can’t b’lieve this...” Hairpins said.

We were together now, all of us except the yellow buck, trapped at the bottom of an old fermentation tank. There were about a dozen of them in the room we were in, all silvery and stained. The room was two stories of open space, and it had a catwalk that lined the walls and cut across the middle row of tanks, giving access to the tops of all of them. We had been flown up above one and dropped in unceremoniously, landing on a grid that had been placed a few feet below the top. The reek of past slaves had slammed into me, and I vomited, retching for a while after the little food that had been in my stomach was gone. When I recovered, wiping the tears from my eyes, I saw that the others had had the same reaction. I had heard a few splashes in the space below us. We had sat in sickened silence since then, me and Rolling on one side, Tumbleweed and Hairpins on the other. A few voices echoed up from the other tanks, but they were shouted down by the one griffin that had remained to guard the room. I wouldn’t have replied anyway, I was too busy staring down Tumbleweed while trying not to breathe through my nose.

“Really?” I asked, finally breaking away, “You can’t believe a slaver enslaved you?”

“Hey fuck you, bug,” Tumbleweed sneered, “If it weren’t for you we would have had the right head count for all of us!” Rolling took a step forward in response.

“Tumble!” Hairpins snapped, putting a hoof in front of his chest, “Drop it already. We got bigger things t’ worry ‘bout than what’s good an’ done.”

“Drop it? That thing nearly got me killed—”

“Ah know, Tumble—I know! Ah was scared t’ death of what might have happened t’ you after we figured out what happened that night. Ah was as pissed at that changeling as you were, but that ain’t gunna help us right now. We need t’ figure some way outta this an’ then shoot that fucker in th’ back.” She huffed, flaring her nostrils despite the smell. Tumbleweed relented with a stifled sigh. “Ah still can’t b’lieve he did that, though.”

“Really?” I repeated.

“Hey now,” Hairpins said, putting a hoof up to calm me, “Ah don’t claim t’ have any moral integrity, but there are some lines ah don’t tolerate being crossed. Ah’ll carry slaves if ah need th’ caps, but ah won’t break ‘em, and when ah make a deal with somepony ah expect ‘em t’ carry through. Not betray their friends like we’re nothin’ to ‘em.”

I scoffed at that, but the intake of breath sent a rush of rankness through my senses, and I was reduced to a retching heap for a few more embarrassing moments. We were essentially sitting atop an open septic tank, and I doubted these griffins had ever bothered to clean them. Rolling gave me a sympathetic pat on the back, but I could tell he was as nauseated as I was.

Hairpins kept talking, trying to think of a plan with Tumbleweed. Rolling seemed to be paying attention, but I didn’t listen. I had my own plan—essentially the same one I’d had at Garlic’s Plantation. I’d already wriggled out of the collar the moment our escorts had left, all I needed now was a moment to fly out of here unnoticed. I’d kill the griffins, free the slaves, and then escape with Rolling. It’d be perfect. This time I’d be the hero. I’d save my savior.

I waited quietly, trying to separate myself from the stench around us and the grime beneath my hooves.

* * * * *

My opportunity came when one of the griffins shouted for lunch. I figured they would switch shifts, but this was even better. I waited for the clanging of paws on metal to fade away before I made my move. “I’ll be back for you,” I whispered to Rolling. I leaped up and flapped my way out of the tank.

“Hey! What are you doing?” cried Tumbleweed. Hairpins shushed him before I could respond, and I floated down onto the catwalk as daintily as I could. I breathed deeply, thankful for this musty air, and turned to find a way out of this room. The sound of another claw on metal stopped me cold, and I spun around to it. I saw the front half of the black griffin, the one with the red around his eyes, coming down a set of stairs that must have lead to the balcony. I was near one of the walls, and he was looking directly down the central catwalk, but I dived for cover just the same. I rolled off the side and hovered behind the tank I had just come from, but I made too much noise. His eyes darted toward my position, and without a world he leaped into the air, crossing the space with a single flap. He landed on the catwalk above me, and peaked into the tank. He was going to see I was gone. I braced myself against the wall.

“What was that noi—?” I rammed into his head, sending him staggering. He balanced himself easily, but I didn’t give him time to retaliate. I divebombed him, smashing his head against the catwalk with my entire body. I scrambled back to my feet, but the attack had worked. His fingers twitched slightly, but he was undoubtedly unconscious; no one would be able to stand having their arm bent underneath them like that.

I leaned over his neck to finish the job, but a thought stopped me. What if—? No, that was crazy, they were too different from ponies. Except... I remembered my vision, the latest one. Griffins, Zebras, Ponies, we had tried all three, or at least thought of it. If I could disguise as this one...

We can’t su—

I dragged his body back to the tank, straining to pull it over the railing. “Look out... below,” I grunted, managing to get his center of mass into open air. I saw the three of them back toward the sides a moment before he toppled in and landed with a loud thunk. I cringed at the sound, but it hadn’t been any louder than the crash when I attacked him. “Keep him down, but don’t kill him,” I said, before darting off to the middle walkway.

“What—?” I didn’t wait to explain to Hairpins. I landed near a door, opposite the one the griffin had come from. It lead down a hallway, where laughter and a muffled conversation echoed down to me. I took another deep breath, smelling the faint hint of cooked meat. Alright, time to do this. It was good this griffin was so distinct from the others, I could picture him easily in my mind. I triggered my magic, still focused on that image. I felt it working, slowly. The spell was beginning to cast, but I had to force it to completion. I grunted. My horn was overwhelmed with its magical aura by the time green flames transformed my body.

It was a mistake. The feeling hit me like a tempest.

All I felt was hunger. Physical, real, hunger—hunger like I had never known washed over my body. My new form shook, so weak I could barely stand, even on all fours. My heart was racing, my breath coming in gasps. Food. I needed food. I lumbered forward blindly, that faint scent suddenly the only thing I could focus on. My waking moments were nothing compared to this. I felt myself dying. Food. There were spots in my eyes. Black specks that popped in and out. I blinked rapidly to clear them, but they did not leave. Still hunger roared in my mind. I needed to feed. Feed on something. Anything. Everything. Now. Feed. I needed to feed. All other thoughts left me.

The griffins had called for lunch. They would have food.

I stumbled down the hallway. Through a door. I salivated as I took in the smell. Meat. Food. The black spots were everywhere. They blotted out the others at the table. My vision was washed over with red.

“Sev! What took you so—whoa, you feelin’ alright, Sev? You don’t look so good.”

“Hungry,” I gasped, lunging forward. All I could see was red. Red and spots. The smell was all I could feel. The smell then the taste. Meat on the table. Meat in my hands. I ripped it apart, feeling strength return with each mouthful. Red. It was succulent and tough and I choked it down, grabbing for more the moment my hands were empty. The juices ran down my claws and chest, the black of my feathers absorbing the stain. Red. I hardly tasted I was so overwhelmed, but it tasted so good. Still all I saw was red. Food. Meat. Red.

I ate and ate, until there were only bones, and only then did my vision return.

The griffins were staring at me. There were seven here, one with half an apron on and a chef's hat so small that it barely supported itself on his head. I panted, swallowing down the taste of the meat. That taste! I licked my beak, savoring it.

“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t realize how hungry I was.” This voice was deep. Frighteningly deep.

One of them laughed. “Celestia, Sev, just tell us if yer starving next time.” The others laughed too. They had their own portions in front of them, and went back to eating. The chef shook his head in disbelieve.

I sighed. That had been too close. I had lost my mind. I’d been completely unable to think of anything but food. In fact, I was still hungry, even after eating almost a whole—

Pony. The bones lay in front of me, bits of cooked muscle still clinging to them. Almost everything but the skull and hooves had been placed here to be stripped down, and I had done it within only a few minutes. Patches of Cutie Marks were nailed to the walls as decoration.

I might have gotten sick again, but my stomach was already emptied. Flesh engorged to support this new body. I did my best to appear calm, sitting quietly at the end of the table. Around me the griffins talked, but I didn’t listen. Instead I focused on breathing, and tested out my hands quietly underneath the table, clenching and unclenching them. Moving each digit; feeling what it could do. It was a captivating new experience, one that helped me not to think about what I’d just done. I needn’t think about it. I just had to kill these griffins and leave. Seven against one. I could do it. I had the element of surprise.

Yet still I was hungry. My stomach gurgled in want. I swallowed the excess saliva in my mouth, unable to move. The others were finishing up their portions, talking and laughing. One of them said something about Red Eye. Something about a contract. The others laughed spitefully. I joined in instinctively. Suddenly, one of them slapped me on the back, asking if I wanted to try out the new ride. I didn’t understand. I smiled, and said no. I needed to get back to guarding, I told him. I didn’t trust that red bastard not to try something.

“I’ll go with ya’, Luci,” one of the others said as I got up from the table. “I’ve been needin’ it all day.”

It was a mistake.

I stepped back out, and went back down the hallway. I still felt weak. With another flash of green I was back to my normal self, and I retreated to the tank room, unsure of what to do. I looked around, aware that I had very little time to work. I ignored the sick feeling in my gut and tried to think of something. I needed to pick them off, one by one, but I couldn’t sustain my disguise as Sev. I didn’t have the body mass, I realized. My muscles had been too stretched, my blood too thin. I now knew the limits of my powers were physical. I hid around the corner as Luci and the other griffin stepped out. They were the ones who had been playing cards. Luci was the one who had stayed at the table.

They walked down casually to the end of the hallway, and went through a door. I caught a glimpse of stairs. Two of them. Could I take two? I would have to. All the others were still at the table. I doubted they would stay there for too long, and once they went back to their posts my chances of going unnoticed would drop to nothing.

I fluttered down to the first level in the tank room. It was dark; barely any light filtered down at all. There was a wide arch here separating this room from the next. Well, not really separating, more like just distinguishing. In this room were a bunch of old barrel racks. Most still had rotted wood clinging to them. I worked my way through, opened the door on the other end, and found a hallway that paralleled the one above me. I caught the griffins going into a room on the right, and I quietly followed. I burped, tasting meat, and shuddered. Luckily the door was shut, and they did not hear it.

‘Showers,’ was written above it. I heard one of them cackle, and the sound, something in the cruelty of it, set me on edge. I risked another transformation, and turned the handle. I’d catch them by surprise. Surprise always helped me.

“See, Gave, this—”

The room was dark. A single bulb cast a faint glow across it, but that was enough to see. The place was lined with dirty tiles, three stalls set in each side, and a few lockers on the walls near the door. Nothing from the old world remained. Four rods had been driven into the floor’s center, and to each a metal chain had been connected. Shackles were fused to their other ends, and bound in them was a dirty yellow pegasus. Her hair might once have been white, but it was caked with grime and dust. Her Cutie Mark was a pair of splayed blue wings. Luci was bent over her, one hand pressing her head down while the other gripped her back leg. He turned back to me as I entered with a slick smile on his face.

“Ah, change yer mind, Sev? This one’s good. She’s got wings, man, wings.” He pulled one of them out to show me, rubbing the tip of it between his claws. “You know how long I’ve been wanting something with wings?” The mare underneath him let out a sob, and the other griffin laughed.

I felt cold. For some reason I had thought I’d seen the worst the Wasteland could do to people.

I lunged for Gave first, slashing at his eye with a claw. He squawked in shock and pain, and I drove my beak into his neck before he could raise a hand to push me away.

“What the fuck?” Luci grabbed me from behind, pulling me off and tossing me toward the ground. I undisguised mid-toss, and caught myself in the air with a flap, making Luci lose his hold and stumble forward. I dived at him, but he was faster than his companion had been. He slapped me down, and I rolled to my feet, barring my fangs on recovery. “What the fuck...” He stepped back, reaching for the gun that was holstered at his side, and I lunged at him. He brought it up, but I was already inside his range. He tried to grab me with his other hand, but I deflected it with my hooves. I slammed into his torso, and we fell back. His arms grabbed me by the side, and I felt claws cut me, but not deep. I bit down, tasting feathers more than flesh, and ripped my fangs out as I felt him squeeze me. Blood spurted up, and I felt his grip loosen. I bit down again, and kept pushing till I heard something snap. I let go, panting, and did the same to Gave. Just to be sure.

A feather was stuck to my face. I wiped it off, but that just spread the blood around.

“Are you okay?” I asked the mare. I was not getting any gratitude from her. I turned around. Her eyes were wide, pupils reduced to pinpricks, and she was struggling against her bonds, trying to get away from me.

“I won’t hurt you,” I said, taking a step forward. She screamed, her struggle increasing. “I—” I stopped, and disguised as Boysenberry. “Is this better?” She kept on trying to back up. I frowned.

“I won’t hurt you,” I repeated.

Fool. This room is a nightmare.

I stepped back, looking at her bonds. There were locks in each of them. I glanced back at the bodies. Maybe?... I searched them, and got lucky. Luci had the key. I approached the mare cautiously, making sure she could see it in my mouth. She kept staring at me with those terrified eyes.

“I’m going to free you,” I said. “I won’t hurt you.”

I bent down to unlock the shackles; but again she flinched from me. I stopped, and placed the key on the floor within her reach. I huffed and turned around, stepping over the bodies. I couldn't waste more time. I needed to kill those other griffins before they found me. I dropped my disguise again.

"Wait." Her voice was harsh, dry. She sounded parched. "What's your name?"

I almost said I didn't know, but that felt like a bad answer. Pitch was right. I needed to think of one for myself. A real name. I needed something better than Changeling.

"My name’s... Worker," I said. She laughed, croaking.

"What kind of name is that?"

“Mine. It’s all I could think of.”

There was a drip from somewhere. Water leaking through the walls of this old building. The mare stretched out a wing toward the key, picking it up between her feathers like they were fingers. I raised an eyebrow as she manipulated the lock, furrowing her brow as she twisted the key around between her wings. She was amazingly dexterous with them. The locks snapped off one by one, and she jumped away from them. She let the key drop onto the floor, and pressed her wings to her sides. She stared at me, still wary.

“What’s yours?” I asked.

“Surprise.” This time I laughed.

“What so funny? That’s a real name.”

“Sorry. I just... wasn’t expecting that.”

The water kept dripping. Surprise shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting from the bodies to the door. I felt their blood pooling beneath my hooves. I trotted to the door.

“We should get out of here,” I said. The mare nodded, and followed after me. She avoided touching either of the griffins, going so far as to jump over a stain of their blood. She scampered out and bucked the door closed behind her. The sound echoed down the hallway, making me cringe, but we were still alone. I looked back at the mare. In the slightly better lighting I could see that her eyes were a deep green—emerald. I started toward the door at the end of the hall.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Upstairs. I need to kill the rest of the griffins.”

“They’re still alive?” Her voice quavered, but not with fear. I nodded. “Let me help.” I turned back to her.

“Alright—” The stifled sound of gunfire cut me off. It was coming from above us, in the direction of the tank room. Fear made its way through the coldness inside me, and the taste of meat came to my tongue. I thought of Rolling. "Let's go!" I ran to the stairwell and threw open the door. Surprise was right behind me, and I leapt up, not bothering with the stairs. I fluttered to the door at the top.

"Alright, I'll disguise to get them to lower their guard while you—" But she wasn't there. I looked down, confused. She was still galloping up, her wings firmly folded. I raised an eyebrow when she joined me.

"I can't fly, fucker," she said, scowling. I balked, taken aback. "Sorry. Worker. What's our plan?" She grimaced, looking away from me. I decided not to question the sudden swing in emotion. I couldn’t even begin to guess how she was feeling right now. I didn’t want to think about it. The sound of gunfire repeated itself, louder. It was near.

I restated what I'd said earlier. "You follow me out and either help me fight them or distract them so I can take them from behind."

"Okay." She sounded disappointed.

I triggered my magic, feeling weakness in these unfamiliar muscles, and pushed the door open. The remaining griffins were in the hallway, aiming their weapons toward the tank room’s opening. One was hugging the leftmost corner, an oversized pistol held at the ready in his right hand. The others carried similar weapons, except for one griffin near the back. He was busy equipping a set of cannons so large they looked like they would crush me if I tried to wear them—in my normal form, that is. All their backs were to me.

I crept forward as stealthily as my claw would let me. The leading griffin peaked his head out into the tank room, but ducked back almost immediately. A bullet bounced off the wall near him.

“Fuckin’ unicorns,” he muttered. “Why didn’t one of you idiots put a null-ring on him?”

“We didn’t know he could teleport—”

“His mark’s a bird for fuck’s sake! You know how many ways that screams ‘escape?’ You’re a fuckin’ idtiot, Gullan.”

Oh right. Teleportation. I’d somehow forgotten he could do that.

I suppress the slight embarrassment. I was already behind the griffin with the battle-saddle. He turned his head when he felt my presence. He gave me a confused look.

“Sev? Weren’t you going—?” I saw realization in his eyes, but I was close enough. I stabbed my beak into his neck, ripping a chunk of it out on the way back. His words turned into a gurgle. I didn’t pause. I jumped toward the next griffin, and managed to tear at his eyes with my claws before the others could react. A bullet hit me in the wing and I dropped my disguise. The wound vanished, and I toppled over, rolling into a nearby doorway. A bullet ripped through the back of my leg. It stung, and I cried out in pain, but it was not crippling.

There was a bar here, with no walls to block it off from the rest of the room. Several chairs and tables were spread around here, and the criss-crossing woodwork in the walls still held several bottles of dusty wine. I shuffled behind the bar, readying myself to take on whomever followed. They were down to three now, after what I’d done to that one’s eyes. I panted and hissed as my leg gave a jolt of pain. My sides were still trickling blood, yet I felt stronger than when I had been in Sev’s body.

I saw the chef peek his head in, but there was another burst of gunfire and he cursed, backing out. I frowned, waiting. More gunfire, and I heard one of them shout. The griffin I’d blinded was moaning in pain, and I could see blood from the dead one seeping through the door. Another gunshot. Surprise darted past the doorway, and I jerked forward. What was she doing? This was a terrible time to attack!

I looked into the hallway, ready to duck away, and saw her lunge at the chef. He’d turned his back at the wrong second, because she was already inside the range of his gun. He snapped his jaws at her, but she punched him in the face with both forehooves, causing him to squawk in pain. I rushed to join, just as one of the two griffins in the front turned toward the noise. He leapt over his retreating friend, and fired his weapon with expert speed. The shot would have hit Surprise in the chest, but she had jumped at him the moment he’d turned. They tackled each other, and the griffin quickly came out on top. He needed both hands to keep her pinned though, and I had been hovering in the air, waiting for a frustratingly long second. I dropped down and bit into his neck. The strength soon left him, and Surprise kicked him off of herself with a grunt. I turned around, expecting the other two to be on top of us, but they were not.

They were dead, both shot and bleeding. Rolling Stone stood at the end of the hall, Sev’s oversized handgun hovering in his magic. I breath a sigh of relief, trembling. A moment later and one of those other two would have killed me. I didn’t doubt it. Tumbleweed and Hairpins were beside him, each still tensed for action.

Rolling trotted up to me, and I hugged him. “Thank you...” I said.

He smiled, and I tasted the first good feelings from him since Maize. They died when he glanced over my shoulder. I frowned.

Surprise was still standing there, looking at the griffin. Her eyes were smoldering.

“Who’s thi—?” Hairpins began.

Surprise screamed, rearing up and then smashing her forehooves down into the dead creature’s face. She trembled there, embedded in his skull, and let out a low, quavering gurgle that slowly turned into a sob. We stood transfixed—mortified. She finally stepped out. She was covered in blood. She didn’t look up at us, only kept sobbing as she started to walk forward. Hairpins stepped out of her way, her face filled with concern. She looked back at the griffin, then returned to her. Surprise kept walking, sobbing as she crossed the catwalk. She exited onto the balcony, and her crying faded. Hairpins took a step forward, glancing back at us and Tumbleweed, then galloped after her.

Rolling and I looked at each other in the silence that followed. That coldness had come back to me. It made my gut squirm. I hugged Rolling again, just to feel his warmth. He pulled away, and nodded to the tank room. Voices were coming from there. Ponies. The other slaves from the other fermentation tanks.

“You’re right,” I said, “I’ll help them out.”

* * * * *

There were not many here. Only about a dozen scattered between all the tanks. I stayed disguised as Boysenberry as we lifted them out. I did not want their gratitude stifled by my appearance. We found a few caches of supplies in many of the rooms, and there was some disagreement about how they should be divided up, but in the end everypony agreed to split things up equally, with our group getting a slightly larger cut for the rescue. It probably helped that Rolling and Tumbleweed had secured all of the griffin's weapons before they started freeing the slaves. They had a good supply of heal potions, which I was glad for, and new saddlebags for both of us. There was also plenty of dried meat, but no one touched it after they saw the bones. I still felt my mouth water a bit. Meat had always tasted good.

After we’d ransacked the place, most of the slaves hurried out of the winery as fast as they could, some going alone, others forming little groups as they fled from the stink and horror. Tumbleweed slunk off to scavenge some more, clearly not wanting to be in our presence. Good. I still hadn’t forgiven anything he’d done to me. I was almost ready to leave, but first I needed to check one last thing.

I stepped onto the balcony, where Surprise was leaning against Hairpins. Rolling was right behind me, and they turned around when they heard us. Her eyes were bloodshot, but she looked calm, and her breathing was steady. Hairpins, for once, was stoic, and gave me a confused look.

“Who’re you?” she asked. I blinked.

“Oh. Right.” I undisguised.

“What are you?” Surprise asked, her voice was hoarse. It made me thirsty.

“A changeling,” I replied, “We... change into ponies.” And eat love. And kill with our fangs.

And build our Hives from nothing and heal our bodies with nothing yet we still die so easily with the world around us...

“An’ griffins, apparently,” Hairpins drawled, “Shit, why didn’t ya jus’ do somethin’ like that when ya first got us? Not even Boss wouldda been able t’ do much against a griffin outta nowhere.”

“I didn’t know I could do it,” I said, narrowing my eyes. It occurred to me that she was still unarmed. “You know griffins eat ponies, right? After everything you did to me... you’re looking pretty tasty right now.” I made my voice low and as buzzy as possible, letting saliva drip from my fangs as I opened my mouth.

Hairpins bopped me on the nose and scoffed.

“Oh phooey, you know I ain’t th’ one t’ be mad at. Ah was jus’ trying fer some easy caps. Boss is the real despicable one. He stabbed us in th’ back—you saw! Didn’t even bat an eye. Th’ way ah see it, we’re even: You went an’ nearly got Tumble killed, then screwed us over on a lotta caps. We went an’ enslaved you an’ yer friend, an’ then nearly got ourselves enslave as a result. If anything, we got more reason t’ be mad at you than you got t’ be mad at any specific one of us.”

I just glared at her.

“Fine! Be that way. Me an’ Tumble are goin’ after Boss soon as we’re done here. If you come t’ yer senses an’ decide to at least tolerate us th’n yer welcome t’ join. Now then—are you okay dear?” She glanced over at Surprise with a questioning look, and Surprise looked back up. She had been watching Rolling Stone, who was, I guessed, trying to mime-out his name. I had noticed him rolling back and forth on the ground and pointing to a nearby rock. The pegasus nodded.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t thank me, deary, ah don’t deserve it. Ah’m jus’ glad ah could help ya’ when ya’ needed it. Same offer goes t’ you, though I doubt you’d wanna go crusadin’ after somepony ya’ hardly know.” Surprise nodded in agreement, and Hairpins trotted off, calling for Tumbleweed as soon as she ducked back into the darkness. Rolling Stone jabbed a hoof at the rock, exasperated.

“Rolling... Rock?” she guessed.

“Stone,” I corrected. “His name’s Rolling Stone. Rolling, this is Surprise.” He gave an exaggerated sigh of relief, and extended a hoof toward her. She took it after a nervous pause, and they shook. He turned to his saddlebag, and floated out a bottle of Sparkle-Cola. Popping the top off, he handed it to her, and she smiled. She reached out a wing and gripped the bottle with it. Rolling blinked in surprise as I had, but she ignored the reflex and tossed her head back, chugging down the whole bottle. I glanced back at my own wings, feeling inadequate and a bit jealous.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding much less thirsty. She wiped her mouth with a hoof and tossed the bottle aside. “So,” she asked me, “where are you two headed?”

“To New Canterlot,” I declared. She raised her eyebrows. Rolling did too. “Well, technically, we’re only going to spy on their army. After that, I’m not sure, but we might go there. I might.” Still she looked confused. “Er, let me start from the beginning..."

“Hold one,” she said, “I don’t want to stay here for a story. Can we... get away from this place first?”

“Yes,” I said, “That’s a good idea.”

* * * * *

We ended up exiting at the same time as Hairpins and Tumbleweed. They walked slightly in front of us, and I could hear them—mostly Hairpins—concocting plans to get revenge on Boss. I wanted no part in it. I hated him, yes, but I hated all these slavers equally, in spite of whatever Hairpins might say. They could risk their lives against that crazy gravity power, but I wanted no part in it. If we crossed paths again I’d kill him. Kill him before he could spot me with that PipBuck or whatever it was that let him see through my disguise. I didn’t know it was the PipBuck, but I couldn’t think of anything else that set him apart from other ponies. Except his magic. But how would that help him see through me? Unless he knew some sort of changeling-seeing spell...

No. It was the PipBuck. We are much too crafty for our magic to be overcome by some some simple spell.

I shook my head. Either way, I wanted no more part in this business. I was hungry for love, not revenge, and so that was what I would seek. New Canterlot was my best lead. Whether Rolling followed me after we’d gotten our information or not, that is where I was headed next. I hoped he would come with me, though, I liked him; I liked him a lot. Surprise too, I hoped. I was happy to be with ponies who didn’t hate me for what I was.

I almost smiled, but as we exited through the remains of the gate I spotted a piece of stained bone laying on the ground. I tasted meat, and the memory of a different kind of hunger. I swallowed and looked away.

It was an accident, I told myself. A mistake.

* * * * *

My plans were shattered.

“What the hell?” Hairpins and Tumbleweed had stopped dead in their tracks, and so had we when we caught up to them.

The wagon, Boss’s wagon, was overturned on the road before us. Holster and Fishhooks were taking shelter behind it, while Boss was standing on top, shotgun floating at his side, as he faced off against three figures. The first two were unicorns, both sheet white. One had a battle-saddle and some armor, while the second wore nothing. They were advancing slowly toward the wagon, while the third figure stood back and watched. I couldn’t tell who this one was—they were cloaked from head to toe. I saw Hairpins and Tumbleweed share a look, then nod. They slunk off to the right, probably to flank Boss. I glanced at both my companions. We trotted off in the opposite direction, watching intensely while keeping our distance. I disguised as Boysenberry. I was taking no chances.

The battle happened fast. One of the unicorns, the one with the battle-saddle, opened fire at the wagon. Boss didn’t move. I saw magic flare around his horn, and several puffs of dirt several feet in front of him. The unicorn kept firing as his (her? I really couldn’t tell) companion kept advancing on the wagon. After several rounds Boss relented. He ducked back behind the wagon and I saw several shots splinter its front instead of burrowing themselves into the dirt. Holster and Fishhooks popped out then, unleashing a barrage from both ends of the wagon. The bullets did not travel far.

At that moment, the second unicorn, whose mane was a dark blue with a streak of azure, cast a spell. A golden aura enveloped his horn, and a pair of shimmering magical walls materialized on either side of the wagon. Fish and Holster’s salvo smacked into them, pinging off in all directions except the one in which they had been aimed. The shields dropped as soon as they had appeared, and the unicorn who had cast them broke into a gallop. I saw Boss leap back over the wagon. He shouted something. By now Tumble and Hairpins were in position. Boss had not noticed them, but Holster did. He and Fishhooks dropped their weapons the moment they saw the pair, each carrying a normal-sized gun they’d managed to salvage.

If Boss knew he was on his own he didn’t seem to care. He stared down the unarmed unicorn, his horn bleeding red energies as the bullets from the first unicorn continued to explode into the dirt. He charged, but a shield flew up in front of him. He tried to float his shotgun around for a clear shot, but another glowing barrier appear just as he fired, and the front of his gun exploded into a thousand tiny pieces. I heard him scream from this distance.

He unleashed another spell. I saw a red glow surround the second unicorn, and he flipped over, just like those raiders. He did not let himself fall far, though. Another shield formed beneath his feet, this one slanted upward, and he began walking slowly down toward Boss. I saw the gleam of teeth, a wide grin. Boss screamed again. Another flash of red, and the unicorn started falling the right way. Another shield to catch himself. By now the first unicorn had run out of ammunition, and they squirmed out of their battle saddle. They charged, and I saw a yellow beam shoot from their horn. Boss dodged it, and turned to his new attacker. His horn glowed, and the unicorn collapsed. I cringed. It had hurt enough to be crushed while standing still, I didn’t want to think about what kind of damage going from a sprint to a dead stop might do.

Boss turned to the unarmed unicorn, who was now standing only a few steps away, still smiling. His horn glowed red, and the unicorn staggered. The glow increased. He struggled to stand. Boss laughed, a crazed, desperate sound. The unicorn’s horn flared, his body glowed to match it, and then there was a burst of sunlight. I covered my eyes, hissing. I saw the red afterglow even when I opened them.

When it cleared, I saw the unicorn standing triumphant. Boss lay at his feet, beaten. Hairpins and Tumbleweed watched from the wagon, their weapons still trained on their former companions. The unicorn glanced over at them, and his horn glowed once again. When he spoke his voice was rumbling, amplified by magic so that it boomed clear in all our distant ears.

“By the power vested in me by the royal lineage of Empress Mi Amore Cadenza of the Crystal Empire, I, Prince Gleaming Armor of New Canterlot, hereby place you all under arrest. Obey or face justice.”

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Raider Palette - You can now heal by eating Pony Meat.

Author's Note

This one went fast; practically wrote itself! As always, thank you all for reading, and please leave any and all comments and/or criticism you have below. Many thanks to BlueNinja for editing this chapter! Things are now 20% more grammatically correct.

Also, thank you to Kkat for creating this universe in the first place, and all the others who have worked so hard to help expand and enrich it. You're all really awesome. /)^3^(\

Chapter 8: The Mute, the Mime, and the Maimed

“There ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue. There's just stuff people do.”

We ran. As soon as the Prince’s words were finished, Rolling and Surprise bolted. I was with them only a second later. I glanced back as we galloped and saw that we were not being pursued. Gleaming Armor was holding Boss underneath him while the other unicorn approached the wagon to arrest the remaining slavers. I did not hear any gunfire.

* * * * *

It was Surprise who first slowed, a long time later. I gladly followed her, and checked to see if we were being pursued. Nothing.

"What... the hell... was that?" she panted.

"That was..." Gleaming Armor. I had had plenty of time to think about what we just witnessed. So he was the Prince of New Canterlot? I smiled despite the fear that had been pushing us all forward. Part of me wanted to turn around, even. I had hope now. Hope that I could take the power he held. When he had spoken I’d heard zeal in his voice, zeal that had at once terrified and enthralled me. Zeal like that could be bountiful, I knew. Zeal like that could be used.

Zeal like that could kill us.

"That was New Canterlot," I said.

"I know that! But what the hell are they doing here? Why... the hell.. " Surprise squeezed her eyes together suddenly, having lost her breath. She stayed that way for a moment, frozen and almost hyperventilating.

"Uh... are you... okay?" I took a few steps forward, reaching out a hoof. She flinched from my touch, jumping back and splaying her wings defensively.

"Ah! Get away, I—ugh, just give me some space. Fuck, I did not need that..." She trotted around in circles, muttering to herself as she slowly calmed. Behind us, Rolling watched the horizon like a hawk, and I glanced nervously between the two. I didn’t like standing still out here. I needed to move. I had a new target now: Gleaming Armor and his princess, whoever she was. I needed to get information on her. On the NCs. I would replace her. Take his love and zeal. Get more power. Simple. Direct. An easy goal. But where to start? I couldn’t walk back there. The slavers knew about me. I would need to wait until he had dispatched them. Then I could find a way to get near him. To replace his princess. Maybe... I could do it in Bulbs. I hadn’t seen the rest of his army. They might still be there. I could go there, wait for him to return, and then... then I would take his love. Yes. That was a plan. Go there. Wait for the right moment. Then feed. It was good we had not been caught.

Feed.

"So what now?" I asked neither in particular. I was impatient to keep moving. Surprise stopped her pacing, turning to me. “We can’t stay here. We have to get to Bulbs.” She gave me a confused look. “Er—somewhere safe.” I glanced back at Rolling. He shrugged, frowning.

"I... I might know somewhere we can rest,” Surprise said after a pause. “Over there." She nodded to the west and slightly northward. I frowned.

"Where?" I didn't see anything nearby, and following her would take us farther away from Bulbs.

"What I just said: over there, about a few miles. There’s an old town there."

“I don’t....” Rolling trotted past me, nodding his approval. I chewed my lip. I wanted to get back to Bulbs, to spy on the NCs, but now that the exhilaration from before was wearing off and I knew I couldn’t go running off right away. The sky was red, and it would be dark soon; a mile or two detour for shelter wouldn’t hurt. I needed to rest. I was tired from the marching, and the running... and the killing. My legs ached. My jaw was sore. My stomach was churning. All the little pains rose to the forefront of my mind now that the thought of rest had entered. “Are there ponies there?”

“Not anymore. Nopony’s lived there for years. We should be safe.”

* * * * *

It did not feel safe, but it was abandoned, as promised. Half of the town was rubble and ash. What houses still stood were all ransacked and strewn with debris. I saw several skeletons in the streets and buildings, one with a wooden pike driven through its skull. Surprise walked by them without pause.

"What happened here?" I asked.

"Zebras. This was one of the first towns hit when they started rampaging across the Fields." She turned left down a side street, and trotted to a small doorway. "This was my dad’s place—the front is blocked off—we can sleep here tonight." She held it open with a wing and Rolling trotted in, giving her a big smile. She nodded awkwardly in response.

“Thank you,” I said, following him.

“Right, uh... I figure I owe you.”

The place was dusty and dark, with only a little light filtering in from the alley and all the broken windows. We were at the back of a living room, which connected to a kitchen and a small stairwell. There was a closet opposite the kitchen, as well as an old bathroom. Most of the furniture was rotted away along with a large chunk of the floor. Even the concrete below it was being slowly eroded by a pool of water. Rolling Stone immediately began to search through what little was still here.

“Don’t bother,” Surprise said. “The place’s empty.” Her comment didn’t dissuade him. She frowned and started up the stairs. I followed her. She turned around when she heard me.

"Uh, no offense,” she said, “but don’t come up here.” She glanced behind herself. I tried to see what was upstairs, but the angle was too shallow. All I caught was a crumbling ceiling.

“Ah... alright.” I backed down, and she nodded her thanks before disappearing. I glanced over at Rolling as he emerged from the kitchen. “Did you find anything?”

He shook his head, and plopped down on the dry edge of the concrete. I joined him, watching silently as he took out some of the food we’d managed to scavenge from the winery. He offered it to me, but I refused. I did not think I would be physically hungry for quite a while. He ate, and I scraped off little bits from what pleasure that brought him. It was only the small gratitude of eating, but love was love, and food was scarce for the both of us. A minute or so later Surprise came back down looking more relaxed, though her expression was still on the angry side of neutral. She trotted over to us.

“So,” she said, sniffing and brushing some dust from her nose as she sat down across from us, “you said you’re a... changeling?” She raised an eyebrow. I nodded. “And you’re trying to spy on the NCs. What’s that all about?”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story...”

“I’ve got time.”

* * * * *

When I was finished with my tale darkness had descended. Surprise was quiet, contemplating what I’d told her with a neutral expression. I’d left out a few parts, especially the... recent mistake, but otherwise I’d been truthful. Rolling had done his best to contribute to his parts of the tale, and he was once again quite flattered by my description of him. He nuzzled me when I referred to him as my savior, and I nuzzled him back. Surprise had briefly glanced away.

“So what’s your plan now?” she finally asked.

“I figured we would go to Bulbs, get some information for Pitch, and then... see where that takes us.” I glanced at Rolling, and he nodded. I’d decided not to mention any of my deeper plots or the vision of my Queen’s scheming. I didn’t want to give these ponies any reason to fear me. I wanted them as my friends. I turned back to Surprise. She stared at me, and there was a long silence.

“So—”

“Can I come with you?” she blurted. “I—it’s just—I haven’t met any nice ponies... in a very long time.” She looked at me with desperate eyes, and for the first time I felt a small drop of feeling from her: hope.

“You’re welcome to come with us,” I said.

“Thank you.” She breathed a sigh of relief, and I felt her gratitude. This was a precious thing, I felt. When I had found her in that dark place she had been nothing to me—a black body of emotion. Now there was a small crack in the shell she had built up around herself.

“So then, what’s your story?” I asked, hoping to bring down more of the barrier. “You’re the first pegasus I’ve ever seen. Are you from that, uh... Encalve? Is that what it’s called?”

“No. I’m not from the Enclave.” She ran a hoof through her mane nervously. “Like I said, this was my dad’s house, it’s where I grew up. I’ve never been up to the clouds. Never been able to fly.”

“Really? Why?” She’d told me she couldn’t fly, but I had assumed that she’d just been injured recently. “Your wings look fine to me.”

Wrong comment. I felt her close down immediately. Rolling jabbed me as her gaze fell to the ground. Another grimace was on her face.

“Er, sorry,” I muttered. There was another silence. Finally, she looked back up.

“I was just never taught, is all. My parents were Earth Ponies.” I raised an eyebrow at that.

“Then how—?”

“Then how am I a pegasus? Yeah, I get that a lot... I just am. Some great grandparent fucked a different race or something. Wings just took a while to get to the top of the gene pool. It happened a lot before the war.” She gave a small shrug. “Dad said I could fly when I was little—I’d buzz all around the ceiling, he said—but that doesn’t keep going unless you practice right. It’s dangerous to be out in the open, outside of town, and nopony in town knew anything about flight training.” She held up her wings, flexing them weakly. “The right muscles never got strengthened or whatever.”

“Hmm.” I thought of my own wings, and how flight had come so naturally to me. It was odd that something so innate in their nature needed to be practiced and developed. “That’s unfortunate.”

“But they’re still useful though!” She held up a hoof defensively. “I use them for pretty much everything—they’re like a pair of hands!” She fluttered them around in the air for us. I blinked at her. After a moment she slapped them back to her sides. “Uh, I’m... sorry. Not used to talking about this. Like I said, I haven’t met many nice... ponies.”

“That’s okay...” I said, feeling awkward. “I, uh... I haven’t met too many either.” There was another pause. Rolling yawned.

“It’s getting late,” Surprise stated. “I’m going to go to bed.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Well... goodnight then.”

“Goodnight,” I replied. She nodded to us, and then trotted quickly back up the stairs. I frowned, but when I turned to Rolling and asked what he thought about that he just shrugged and yawned again. I yawned too, feeling a deep weariness. I needed a good sleep.

Surprise did not show herself again, but I heard some movement above us as Rolling and I settled down. It had started to drizzle outside, and I cuddled up to my savior as the temperature dropped. Thankfully, the rain did not last long, and I drifted off to the slow rhythm of his breathing, the heat of his body keeping me comfortable. I smiled. I could feel he liked this. I could feel he was happy with me here.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

“What did you say?” our Queen demanded. She stood at the edge of the cave. She and Fugax. I peered out at them, the light of early morning blinding me to everything but their silhouettes. I felt a few others watching with me. We had not heard what Fugax had said, but it angered our Queen. This confused us. She should be happy he had come back. We were happy. I was happy.

“Fugax!” Maggy shouted, scampering over us. She almost stepped on my head. We were clustered together here. There was not much room, but it was an isolated shelter. Safe from the Wasteland’s monsters. Both Fugax and the Queen looked toward Maggy as she approached. I could not see their faces. “Fugax, you’re alive!” She stopped suddenly, and we felt her confusion. “Fugax, what—?”

“Fugax!” Chrysalis shouted, taking a step forward. “You have closed your mind to me. What is this? What are you doing?"

A dark shiver ran through us. I felt Maggy’s confusion melt into fear.

“Answer me!”

"I am sorry my Queen,” Fugax finally said, “for letting you worry. I was gone on for quite some—”

“Five years! Five years without so much as a murmur from you. I thought you were dead!”

“I was on quite the journey—”

“To where? Doing what? You’re dressed... like that, and what you said...” I felt a sudden darkness rise in my Queen. She was petrified. My eyes widened, and I edge forward. What was wrong? What did she mean?

“Fugax,” she demanded, “what have you done?”

We chittered nervously in the silence.

“I have fed,” he said with a ragged intake of breath. “I have fed on hate.”

“You what?” our Queen spat. I frowned. That was impossible. “That is poison!” We all knew it was poison.

“No!” Fugax said, his voice raspy. He was excited. Exhilarated. “It is not poison—not anymore! The world has changed, and so must we. We must adapt. There are more feelings to feed on than love and joy!” Fugax shifted, bringing a hoof up to his chest to stand proudly. “I have learned to drink the spice of hatred. I can teach you—” He coughed. “I can teach you all!"

He stepped forward, and I gasped. His armor hung loosely on his undisguised form, caked in dark red and brown blood. It was lined with spikes and hooks, and cracked in several places. I saw hints of the white it had once been in those cracks. A bulky gun and several rusty blades hung from his sides. He reeked of death and years of unwashed grime and gore. My eyes watered, and I felt my stomach churn. I was almost thankful it was empty. His skin was stretched thin over his bones, and his eyes were dim though they should have glowed in the dark. Lines of yellow had crept into their edges, the same color as his rotting teeth. He was smiling.

“Fugax...” I whispered.

“I can teach you!” he repeated. “I have fed—”

“Silence!” Chrysalis snapped. She moved, and was suddenly towering over him. “You... you cannot eat hate. I have tried. In those early days I tried everything—you cannot!” I felt the command pound into my mind. Into the mind of every one of us save Fugax.

“But I have,” he insisted. “For the last five years I have fed off of ponies and their hatred. I have fed, I... I will show you!”

He opened his mind before we had time to react.

I saw ponies in front of him bloody on the ground crawling begging—I saw ponies around him laughing taunting like he was—I felt him eat I felt their fear and their hate I felt him drink and drink and drink I felt it in my veins in my very core—the energy and POWER and finally the release from this ever present hunger—it felt so good to be full again, to revel in the emotions of those around us. I saw the blood I felt a mare below me begging and begging but I didn’t stop in fact I laughed as I felt her squirm around me—the other raiders were hollering and whistling, and I fed from their frenzy as I fed from her shame and fear. Why stop? This pony was my prey in one way why not all? She was nothing but sustenance and I was hungry so hungry always hungry—she was sobbing, sobbing and it felt so good so good so good so good good—good! I laughed again and the others fell on her and I kept feeding, drinking and drinking—I urged them on and on and on why search for crystals when I had this? This was food this was survival this was POWER—they killed her and kept going but I knew tomorrow we would do this again and again and I would feed and feed on these new emotions and I would drink and drink until finally we had POWER again and—I would share this. I would spread this. They must know. They must follow—I saw blood on the stallion below me and I felt him claw at my hoof but still I pressed it deeper and I felt his guts squish and I heard him scream—

“Stop!” bellowed our Queen.

I collapsed, my mind reeling. I felt sick. We had all felt that. We felt everything he had done. I shuddered. The taste. We had tasted it. Tasted hate. Tasted poison. It was not good. It was not good...

“See?” Fugax asked. “Do you not see? Here, try it!!” His horn lit up, glowing not green but a sick, faded yellow. I saw now it was splintered, a tree of hairline cracks spreading all the way out from its tip. His magic leaked out, bathing us with soft light as he offered his power. I did not take it. I dared not. “You mus'... please...” He stared at us, his smile finally fading.

“Fugax.” The Queen’s voice was low, guttural. I saw only her eyes, smoldering with hate and betrayal. “Leave.”

“Wh—what? But—” He hacked, coughing. “But I have fed—”

“Leave!” She shouted with both mind and body, stepping between him and us. You are not my child.

“But...” His mind was closed again. All I felt was my Queen’s rage.

Fugax stepped back slowly, glancing from her to us, his face fallen. He looked back at Maggy. He took a step forward, but she scampered to Chrysalis’s side. Fugax looked at us all, and I was struck by the emptiness. I could not see into his mind. I could only see the sad expression on his face. That was an alien sensation. For the first time I could not sense the thought of my sibling. He had become a thing separate from us. An ugly, dying blasphemy.

“Leave,” our Queen repeated, and Fugax ran.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

I woke abruptly with a gasp, terrified of that yellowed visage. Rolling stirred next to me, his horn lighting up reflexively. He raised one of the griffin's weapons, and gave me a panicked look.

“No—don’t worry,” I said. “Nothing’s wrong. It... it was just a nightmare.” His light dimmed, and he put down his weapon. His face turned concerned.

“It’s fine, I...” I trailed off. I hadn’t been expecting that. That flood of horror. Even though it was just a memory it felt like it had just happened. Fugax... my brother had become brutal and corrupt. He had poisoned himself. What had driven him to that? I had felt it in my dream—the energy he’d offered. It’s very aura had been foul. I thought we were merely indifferent to negative emotions but now I knew that they were an anathema. Hate was a poison, and he’d been desperate enough to drink it. I shuddered again at what my brother had done.

The longing for my hive had returned, lingering along with my horror. I wondered, had Fugax died? Had he raped and raided until the corruption destroyed him? And what of the crystals? I had had no time to think about them after that first vision, but now the question surged to the forefront of my mind. We had seemed desperate to find them. Chrysalis—my Queen had been desperate. What were they? Why Canterlot? Had that happened before Fugax returned or after?

Our plans... it will still work... we are still close... we will have love again... feed...

These dreams instilled a sense of urgency into me, but I had no direction to move in. My mind felt... locked. I could push and push against the wall of my past, but no memories came when I asked. I sighed in frustration.

Rolling put a hoof on my shoulder, snapping me out of my reflections. I looked up at him. In the dim light I saw only a shimmer of his eyes and the outline of a muzzle.

“It’ fine,” I repeated. “I had another vision. It was... it was scary.” I glanced down, embarrassed. Rolling’s concern was just barely on the edge of my perception. He settled down next to me again, pulling me gently toward him with a hoof. I grew flustered at his sudden action, but I stifled my reaction and did not resist.

“Thank you,” I said, curling into him.

I held Rolling’s hoof with my own, again grateful for his presence. For him. Now, at least, I was not alone. I did not have my Hive, but I had a friend, and... maybe more. No. I wanted it to be more. We’d fought together; he’d saved me twice. I still knew little about him or his life, but I knew for a fact that, physically at least, he was attracted to me. I knew it was mutual. I turned over in his embrace, only half sure what I was doing. The light from his horn had darkened completely, but I could feel that his mind was on me.

“Thank you,” I repeated, bringing my muzzle up to his. I felt him breath in in surprise as I kissed him, but he kissed back fiercely. Excitement flared through us both. Our lips parted after a moment. “For... for everything.” My cheeks were burning. I hadn’t really known what I was doing—I was pretty sure that had been a terrible kiss—but the reaction I got was strong. I drank from his love as he kissed me again, but I broke it off the moment he rolled up to stand over me. His breath was hot on my face.

Not like this, you fool! Don’t go falling in love with your prey. You have bigger targets.

“N-no.” I put a hoof on his chest. “Sorry, I—” I was nervous. Drinking love was one thing, but the intensity this roused from him—and from myself—scared me. I was not ready for this. Part of me wanted it, but a larger part was still afraid. He was pony. I was not. I admitted it to myself—I was enamored with him, my savior, but I did not believe it went both ways. He was attracted to my guise Boysenberry, not me. I knew it from now and that moment in Maize: I had felt his attraction to me, and his enjoyment, but it was not... deep. That was fine for feeding, but I... I wanted more. He had said we were friends. I liked that. The thought of unreciprocated love, however... that would only depress me.

Besides, I... I had other goals.

Yes...

“Not yet,” I said. If we did this now it would only lead to back things. The memory of what I had done to Garlic was also heavy in my conscious. I didn't know if I could control myself.

Rolling frowned slightly, but stepped off, and after a pause lay next to me. I sighed, and though he put his hoof around me again I felt the heat of his emotion had cooled.

I closed my eyes, but sleep did not come easy. My chest was tight with doubt over what I had just done, and below it my heart would not stop fluttering.

* * * * *

I woke again to the sound of Surprise clunking down the stairs. I blinked to clear the haze of sleep, not believing what I saw. She wore a pair of saddlebags embroidered with her Cutie Mark, a battle-saddle that looked like it had been recently polished, a pistol holstered on each leg, and had two belts of ammunition wrapped around dark blue barding. There were two odd slits cut along the sides and top of the barding, each curving around into the shape of a seven. They were for her wings, I guessed, but she had kept them hidden and I wasn’t sure why the slits were designed that way. On her head was a helmet, made of what looked like hard plastic that had been painted a dark green. It was hooked to a set of steel plates that protected the whole of her neck. Her saddlebags were packed full, presumably of health potions and more ammo. Rolling and I could do little but gawk as she approached.

“Here,” she said. Her wings slid outward and back, following the lines in her barding. Now I understood. She could flash them out whenever she needed while still protecting them the rest of the time. Very creative.

She reached into her bags and pulled out some things, then tossed a black rifle to Rolling and a set of short knives to me. They clattered onto the floor in front of us. “I figure these will help more than griffin guns.” She reached back to her bags, pulling out a few boxes of ammo for Rolling. She furrowed her brow as we continued to stare at her, slack-jawed. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t realize you had an armory up there,” I finally managed to say.

“Oh. This?” She glanced down at herself. “Like I said, I don’t meet many nice ponies. Now come on, let’s get going. I don’t want to run into that Prince again. Those fuckers are bad news.”

“I’m not so sure,” I said, undisguising so that I could pick up the knives in my magic. They weren’t too long, only about the size of my horn, but they were a matching pair and came with sheaths for my waist. I smiled as I tested them. “So far, the NCs seem to be beating the Steel Rangers. The sooner we get on their good side, the better. It doesn’t seem like they’ll back off from the Fields like they did last time.” I’d heard the conviction in Gleaming’s voice. Whatever he had set out to accomplish, he would see it through to the end.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Surprise said. “You haven't been around long. You don't know. The Steel Rangers, the NCs—they only care for their own. It’s all bad news in the end.” Rolling nodded solemnly, already familiarizing himself with his new weapon. He slung it over his back in one smooth motion, and set his hooves, giving us a determined look. I frowned.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to see,” I said. “We’ll go to Bulbs. We’ll find out what they want.” And I would find their princess; and then....

I glanced at Rolling.

Feed!

Then I would see where that took me.

* * * * *

We made good time on the road. The only trouble we encountered on the road was a lone raider. He was hiding in the wreckage of an old tractor-harvester, and he leaped out when we passed by. He didn’t say anything, just screamed hysterically and charged us with a rusty blade from the tractor hovering in his magic. I tensed to intercept him, but Rolling cracked off a shot with his new rifle before Surprise had even turned to face him. He hit a foreleg, and the raider collapsed, still screaming. Surprise finished him off with a single blast from her battle-saddle.

“Fucking raiders,” she said.

Rolling nodded in agreement.

The walk had been silent until then, and was still silent afterward. Rolling and I walked separate, an uncomfortable air between us. I glanced at him a few times, but he was always looking somewhere else. Surveying the horizon. Starting straight ahead. I needed to say something, but I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of our brief encounter, and I wasn’t sure he would be able to communicate his thoughts even if I did. Heck, I wasn’t sure I would be able to. I just felt anxious, and stupid that I had kissed him without thinking things through. I didn’t know what to say.

Instead I fell back to talk with Surprise.

“So, uh... why did you want to come with us?” I asked.

“Well I... I guess I figured I owe you,” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder. “And like I said: not many nice ponies."

“I see...”

A pause.

“Well... what did you do before, uh, your town was attacked?”

“Lived there. Dad was a trader, so I worked in his shop. Not much else.”

“Ah. That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.... I mean, I had friends, we hung out and stuff, but mostly everypony was just trying to make ends meat.

“I see...” She didn’t want to talk, I could tell from her shortness, but I wanted to at least try to be friendly. I wanted her to see me as a friend; as someone trustworthy. That brought good emotion. Right now she was too reserved for my liking. And I hadn’t had breakfast this morning.

“So why did you name yourself Worker?” she asked suddenly.

“Oh, well...” I thought for a second. “I figured: that’s what I was. In my Hive, I think I was one of the workers. I built things or fixed things... I did whatever basic tasks the Hive needed. I don’t remember doing any of that, but it feels right when I think about it.”

“Feels right?”

“Yes. When I asked myself: what was I? I felt like ‘A worker’ was the best answer.”

“Hmm.”

“What about your name?” I asked. She shrugged.

“It’s just a name.”

“Hmm,” I said.

* * * * *

It was only midday as we stepped through Bulb’s ruined entrance. Where the gate had been only a hole now was, and what remained of the intricate scaffolding on the inside was a molten heap stuffed into one of the room’s corners. There were scorch marks everywhere, and a few bloodstains. Another flag of the steel sun greeted us, along with a pair of white-coated guards. Each had a battle-saddle and black armor, making them look like dumbed-down Steel Rangers. The only difference was they could most certainly use magic.

“Halt!” they cried as soon as we were in view. Rolling and I lurked behind Surprise as they approached us. I was disguised as Boysenberry again. I had debated trying to disguise as a unicorn, so that I would be able to use my knives with my magic, but I figured any situation that called for that could be handled by Rolling and Surprise, or would be perilous enough that I would be undigsuising anyway. It was also the disguise I was sure Rolling would like.

“What is your business here?” one of the guards demanded. His eyes were a bright blue. His partner's were dull brown.

“What’s it to you?” Surprise quipped. I facehoofed immediately.

“This city is now under the jurisdiction of New Canterlot,” the brown-eyed guard responded, stepping forward to look down on us. “We are tasked with keeping the peace, and making sure no troublemakers get in.” He frowned at Surprise’s armament. “Now state your business or leave.”

“We’re here to—deliver a message,” I said, pushing Surprise back gently, “to the head of Bulb’s Plantation. Garlic, I believe it was?” I gave him a diplomatic smile. Brown-Eyes raised an eyebrow, looking back to his companion.

“The slaver known as Garlic was murdered shortly before we took over,” Blue-Eyes stated, “and we’ve deposed his successor. Major Ruby is currently overseeing the farm labor. We can deliver any message you might have for him.”

“Er, nevermind then,” I said. “The message only meant anything to Garlic anyway.” At least I assumed it had. Cobb had given me the impression his message was something against the army of New Canterlot. “We’ll just be looking for a place to stay, then. Surely you have nothing against housing a few weary travelers?”

“Hmm... Very well. Simply do not disturb the peace and we will not disturb you.” The two guards stepped back, saluting in attention as we passed.

“Thank you,” I said, ducking my head in a bow.

“May you see Celestia’s rays once more,” Blue-Eyes said.

“And may Luna protect you as you slumber,” Brown-Eyes echoed.

The glare Surprise had been wearing softened at those words. “I’ve never heard that prayer before,” she said.

“Right...” I tried not to let anypony see me grimace. I did not remember the Princesses, but, like the Ministry Mares, my skin crawled at even the sound of their names. To hear ponies pray to them was... unsettling. It was a reminder that I was still an enemy to this land. A set of friends did not make up for the history between our races.

And don’t you ever forget that.

“Oh, wait!” I had suddenly remembered something. “Hold on a moment,” I told my confused companions. I quickly trotted back to the guards and tapped one on the shoulder to get his attention. “Excuse me, but, is the prince here?”

“No. He is away, but he should be returning soon. Why do you ask?”

“Oh I was just curious... I, um, I heard he was getting married soon! I was wondering when the wedding would be. I, uh... I just love parties, heh heh!” I smiled widely, trying to hide my nervousness. Was I come off as odd? Did they suspect me of anything?

The soldier glanced at his companion, frowning slightly. “I see,” he said. “The Prince may announce his wedding when he returns, and if so I’m sure he will make it a public affair. Otherwise it is none of your business.”

“Oh, um, thank you!” I said. I trotted back to Rolling and Surprise.

“What was that about?” Surprise asked.

“I was just, uh, getting some information for us.” I nodded toward Rolling. “The prince might have his wedding here.”

* * * * *

The lights were off. Not like they had been in Maize; there were still enough functioning bulbs to keep most of the hallways partially lit, but it was nothing compared to before. And those that remained only flickered dimly. I felt as if the facility had been submerged in perpetual twilight. Each pony we passed shimmered into existence from some distant shadow, then faded away behind us. I saw Surprise keep flinching away from them.

"This is fucking eerie."

I nodded in agreement.

Thankfully, the dusk broke when we reached the marketplace. We decided to split up. Surprise and Rolling went off to trade what little we’d salvaged from our ordeal while I slunk away to try and gather some more information on New Canterlot. I knew exactly where to start. I headed for the stairwell, taking note of my surroundings. Not much had changed here. I saw the same layout and business, but with the overtone of being watched. There were at least five more soldiers here, by my count, all patrolling the length of the room. Their eyes and ears darted around, keeping track of each murmur and motion of the ponies around them. They were given a wide berth, but I could not tell if it was from fear or respect. Ponies were chatting. Ponies were laughing. They seemed happy.

I frowned and started up the stairs, trying not to focus on the how small the space was in here. Or how it was now almost pitch-black. I squeezed my eyes shut, navigating on touch and memory. Big spaces, I reminded myself. Sprawling fields. The open ocean. Blue skies that go on forever. Big. Wide. Open. Spaces.

I managed not to start hyperventilating, and leaped up the last flight onto the top floor. Another guard was standing here. I trotted quickly by him, averting my gaze as my heart returned to its normal rhythm. It was unnerving how similar they looked. Except for eye color and gender they were mirror images of one another. Same white coat. Same blue hair as the prince. Same black armor. Eerie.

Although... I guess that was how we Changelings would have looked to them. Still, we were meant to be that way. Ponies, I felt, needed to look different. Otherwise they all blurred together.

I stopped in front of a familiar set of double doors, and pushed them open.

Light Ray's place was the same as the first time I'd seen it, only now there were several electric lamps hung throughout the room to combat the darkness. On the back wall hung another flag with the NC emblem. A passed-out stallion was snoring in the seat directly underneath it. A group of mares was crowded around the table in the middle of the room, whispering excitedly. Occasionally one would glance up at the bar, then shoot back down and start up a chorus of giggling. I looked at who they were discussing. It was another NC soldier. He was sitting at the bar, a glass of beer in his magic, with his helmet resting beside him. I could see why they were so interested. Broad shoulders, perfect posture, toned and muscular—he was lean and the stereotype of handsome. He also was alone, and next to an empty seat. I smiled. Originally I had planned to come up here and just talk to Light Ray—he and Cathode seemed like the ones in the right positions to know more about New Canterlot's doings here—but he looked like he was busy with customers and this was a much better opportunity.

"Good afternoon," I said, sliding into the unoccupied seat. "Taking a break from looking stoic and unapproachable?" He frowned at me and I gave him a coy look, my hooves folded beneath my chin.

"Well excuse me," he said, turning away, "for not finding levity in the middle of a war."

"There’s a war?" I raised an eyebrow. He snapped back, shocked.

"Wh—Yes! The war between our army and the Steel Rangers! I almost lost my life when we drove them out of Maize. Were you not here when we liberated you?"

"Oh no, I just got back today. Looked to me like you had invaded."

"Invaded? Hmph! We are reclaiming what is rightfully ours," he declared. "We have come to end this plague of barbarism that has tainted Equestria.”

“Barbarism?” That was a new word.

“Yes, barbarism. Chaos. Wastefulness. Immorality. Anything that is not civilized. That means the Steel Rangers, the slave trade, raiders—they have corrupted Equestria for too long, and now we have come to extirpate them all from this land. That is our war." He took a long drink from his mug, and when he put it down again I saw his eyes were unfocused, as if he were gazing at something off in the distance. “We are a rock around which Equestria may rise," he recited, "around which the weak may strengthen, and against which the evil in this land shall be ground away.”

"How..." Ambitious? Insane? "...poetic," I said.

"Hmph, thank you." He smirked, wiping his mouth with a hoof. "As I said, we are trying to be examples of how Equestria should be. In order to rid the world of barbarism, we must be superior in all our aspects."

“That’s quite a... noble goal you have,” I said.

As I spoke, Light Ray trotted up to us. He had darkened eyes and a sour look on his face, but seemed otherwise unscathed from the battle at the Plantation. He lifted an open bottle and began refilling the soldier's mug. He frowned and opened his mouth to protest, but Light Ray cut him off.

"Stupid's more like it." The soldier's eyes narrowed. "No offense, Sir," he amended. "We all appreciate you folk sortin' shit out at the Plantation and all, but you can't really believe all this about... changing th' Wasteland." He finished pouring and slid the mug back. The soldier pushed it toward me, not even bothering to look down. He was glaring at Light Ray.

"What's not to believe? We have liberated Maize, brought stability to this place, as you said, and within the week we intend to be marching on the Steel Ranger's base."

"You mean that outpost up past Tubers?" Light Ray replied, half-condescending.

"I—Hmph, yes that base. We will take it by storm, and then, with the power of—uh—" He sputtered suddenly, and both Light Ray and I raised our eyebrows. "I mean—With our power, we will sweep across the Wasteland and purge it of its horrors. We will bring about the rebirth of our lost paradise!"

"Th' whole Wasteland? You... That's impossible!"

"Are you questioning our abilities?" the soldier challenged.

"No, no," Light Ray said, waving a hoof defensively. "Like I said, we appreciate what you've done, but there's no way you can 'revive Equestria.' Your army's only got, what, a hundred? Two hundred ponies? You can't rule a country let alone 'purge' it or whatever. Hell, that’s barely enough t’ cover the Fields. You'll... you'll end up nothin' more than a gang of vigilantes."

"Hmph! Well then, my Earth Pony friend, I’m afraid we are at an impasse. You simply don’t understand the possibilities that lie in our magic—our power. It is a greater power than any other in this land. We will succeed. You'll see."

“I believe in you,” I lied. I didn’t know how big Equestria was. To me, the Fields seemed huge enough. I couldn’t properly comprehend how big the greater Wasteland must be, but I knew there was no way New Canterlot could rule it on its own. I’d seen their army. Regardless of how powerful they claimed to be, so many ponies could only do so much. How did they even expect to govern more than two or three of these facilities?

Light Ray just frowned at my comment, and trotted away muttering. The soldier huffed, and an awkward silence fell between us. It occurred to me then that his mane was a shade lighter than the rest of the soldiers’. Or maybe that was just my imagination.

”So, um...” I sniffed cautiously at the mug in front of me. “Is this any good?”

“Not the best. It’s rather watery,” the soldier commented. “But you would know better than I. Erm... What is your name, if I may ask?”

“Boysenberry,” I answered. “But you can call me Boysen.” I smiled at him again. I wanted to keep him talking. Knowing their general mindset was good, but I wanted more details.

“Boysen—” as he spoke the lights suddenly flickered, and with a sharp spark went out. A general moan rose from the tavern.

“Celestia dammit!”

“Not again...”

"What happened?" I asked. I heard one or two ponies feeling their way around, but most were staying still, content to grumble.

"I would assume the generator has stopped functioning." I heard him grunt, and a sharp point of light appeared on the tip of his horn. It grew slowly, but illuminated most of the immediate area. Several tenants muttered their thanks.

“What’s wrong with it? Last time I was here everything was working fine.”

“It was damaged during the battle, unfortunately. We would have our technicians repair it but it’s caretaker is very... protective of it.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yes.”

I was surprised. I hadn’t thought the fighting had gone that deep into the facility. Sure, the entrance had been heavily damaged, but I hadn’t seen anything comparable to that in any of the other parts I’d been through. Nothing comparable to Maize, at least. Although that could just have been because there were still ponies here to clean up whatever carnage may have resulted.

“Anyway, as I was about to ask: Boysen, what do you do for a living?”

“What do I do?”

“Yes. Do you have a job? Do you work? I only ask because I’m curious about how ponies make a living out here. This city has its plantation, that market, and a few shops but I’ve yet to see much of an economy here. How do you all perpetuate?”

“Well, um, I scavenge in the ruins nearby...” I fidgeted in my seat. What did ponies do around here? I hadn’t been paying enough attention. “And I, uh, I take whatever small jobs I can find. Wh—what about you?” Wait, no. That was a dumb question. He was a soldier.

“Me? Ah,” he said, “I’ve just realized I have not properly introduced myself. I am Major General Swiftfoot of New Canterlot—though you may call me simply Swiftfoot. I maintain order and organization within our army and am currently overseeing the restoration of this city. I support the Prince directly in all our military endeavours.” He extended a hoof. I moved to meet it, but he did a strange thing. Instead of shaking he took my hoof above his and bent down to kiss it. That was... weird. “Well met,” he said. As he spoke the lights flickered back on. I heard several sighs of relief.

“Oh. Um...” I said, putting on another smile. I had no idea what a Major, General, or Major General was but it sounded important. Obviously not as important was a prince, though. I wasn’t sure how else to respond, so I just kept smiling and turned to the drink in front of me. I took a swig to give myself some time to think but almost spat it back out. Bitter and watery, it may have been passable had the taste not been completely obtuse to anything I was expecting. I swallowed hard and put the mug back down, trying to suppress my disgust.

Feed...

“So, Swiftfoot, what do you do—exactly?” I tried not to cough as I spoke.

“I manage the city—technically. However, aside from the plantation and the generator most other things worth regulating function fairly autonomously, and as there has been very little resistance to our presence here we have not needed to enact any curfews or quarantines, so my duties have been reduced to mere oversight of our police force—and I have no reason to doubt their competence. Mostly I have found myself idling here this past day or so, though I suspect I may have to perform that ritual at their plantation again.

“Ritual?”

“Yes I—er, excuse me, I misspoke. The spell I mean. I may have to renew it occasionally.”

“Spell? What spell?"

“The spell, it...” he trailed off, and then glanced over at the bar’s other occupants. I frowned. None of them had done anything that I had noticed. My eyes found where his vision had settled. Light Ray was over at the table, talking with a few other ponies. What did—? “Do you live here?” Swiftfoot suddenly asked me.

“Um... no. No I don’t.”

“Then I suppose you don’t know about the crops here.”

“Um... they’re radiation resistant, right? Normal plants just die.”

“Yes, that’s what we believed from the information we’d gathered before we set out, but apparently that’s not the case. The crops in these plantations are normal plants, you see. It is magic that keeps the radiation in the soil from killing the plants, a certain spell cast by their overseers. Apparently there was a small uprising that occurred right before our annexation of this place that resulted in the death of the local plantation’s overseer. Garlic was his name, I believe. There was quite a panic when we arrived. Apparently no other unicorn here knew the spell. Fortunately I was able to recreate it with little effort.”

“Oh. That’s...” That explained how Garlic stayed in power... sort of. I found it odd that nopony else would have been able to cast that spell, though. And he had able to do it, just like that? “That’s very impressive, Swiftfoot,” I finished. “I’d love to see it done.”

“‘I’m glad you think that, and I’d be happy to perform for you,” he said with a sly grin. “I wonder, Boysen, would you—?” Suddenly his face turned serious, and he swiveled an ear backwards. I didn’t see anything when I looked. “Excuse me, Boysen,” he said, moving away from the bar. “I must attend to something.”

“Oh? What thing?”

“It’s—well, I suppose there is no harm in telling you: Our Prince has returned from his expedition! I must meet him to discuss business. It would be my pleasure to continue this discussion later, but farewell for now.” He nodded his head in parting and trotted away without another word. As he did, I noticed his Cutie Mark was a pen writing on parchment with a cartoonish smiley face drawn on it. The mares I’d noticed before all smiled at him as he walked by, but he ignored them. I begrudgingly let myself feel a pang of triumph. He was handsome, but his manner was quite odd.

I turned back to the awful drink as I pondered my next move. Gleaming Armor was here, which meant I could start my infiltration, but I still lacked key information, namely who his princess was. I took another small sip of the drink, hopeful that it might somehow taste different, and shuddered in regret a moment later. I hadn’t really made much progress. I hadn’t even eaten today, not after that awkwardness with Rolling. Best to keep with the original plan.

Feed...

I trotted out of the bar and looked down the hall. I caught Swiftfoot entering the stairwell and decided to follow. At the very least I could spy on him and the prince, and at best I might be able to worm my way into their midst. Through Swiftfoot, possibly.

"Oop!"

I jumped back as somepony bumped into my side. It was Cathode. I gasped. The right side of her face was wrapped in yellowing cloth, her back leg was held in a splint, and she had several bandages patching up her front and torso. On top of her injuries she had deep bags under her visible eye, and she wobbled slightly as she moved around me. I took this all in with wide eyes.

"Sorry, miss," she mumbled, almost sighing. "Didn't see ya there."

"That's okay," I managed to say. "I, um... are you okay?" I knew she'd taken a few bad nicks, but this looked far worse than before. That didn't make sense. The fighting was mostly over by the time I'd seen her last.

"Oh, don't worry miss, I'm fine. I just got in the wrong place in the plantation during the fighting yesterday. I’m mighty thirsty." She didn't stop walking as she spoke, so I had to turn around and follow her to keep up the conversation.

"Yesterday?" I asked.

"I, uh, went to stop the fighting after that shapeshifter ran off... but they said Garlic got killed, and ponies started panicking. Miss Tulip, she was raving mad... we didn’t mean to kill the food, Ray was out of his mind... I’m sorry. I tried to keep everypony calm, told them Light Ray didn’t mean it—Garlic called a truce, but... there was so much noise and those three kept fighting about who was gunna take his place... I said—I tried to say... oh, that poor gal... I’m so thirsty...”

She had lead me back to the bar, but as she pushed her way through the doors her wobble increased, and she tripped, falling on her face. I helped her up as quickly as I could.

“Cathode!” Light Ray zipped over the moment he saw her. “Cathode, girl, you need to go back to bed. You’re still hurtin’.”

“But I’m so thirsty Ray, and we need to... the plantation... how’re ponies gunna eat?”

Light Ray sighed, turning to me with a guilty look. “Sorry if she bothered you ma’am. She, uh... she took quite a few hits in the battle, ya’ see, so she’s been pretty drugged up. Wasn’t able to get my hooves on any good potions.” The last line was almost mumbled, and by then he had already turned back to attend to Cathode again. I realized I wouldn’t get anything significant from staying here, so I excused myself and hurried back out. I needed to catch up to Swiftfoot.

Feed...

* * * * *

Surprise intercepted me before I could find him again.

“So Worker, how’d the, uh, espionage go?” She had trotted up to me alone, eyeing everypony around her suspiciously. I didn’t know what had caused her to take on such a predatory demeanor, but it made me smile. I was glad I wasn’t the only paranoid one around here.

“I’m not done yet,” I answered. “Did you see a soldier walk through here? His hair was slightly lighter than the others.” I had been looking for him since I’d exited the stairwell, but he was nowhere to be seen in the marketplace. “And where’s Rolling?”

“A soldier? I have no idea.” She bit her lip as she continued to scrutinize the room.

“Where’s Rolling?” I asked again.

“Not a fucking clue. Some mare jumped at him with a knife and then chased him off before I could help. I didn’t even see which hallway they went down.”

“What? A mare?” I felt my heart leap into my throat.

“Yeah. Some crazy red bitch. Didn’t even say anything. Just screamed like that raider.”

Red? Could that have been Tulip?

“What should we do?” Surprise asked.

I pressed my lips together. Rolling was in trouble. We needed to go help him. But I didn’t know anything about the layout of this facility. We could wander around this place for hours and never find him, even if he’d been killed.

Feed...

I pushed down that thought. Wherever he was, I doubted I could find him fast enough to have any influence. Right now I needed to focus on securing my own fate. And since Tulip was still here I knew my position was precarious. No doubt she had told ponies about what she saw. Same went for Boss and Gleaming Armor, I realized. I would have to be extra careful from now on.

“Rolling... he knows his way around this place. I’m sure he’ll get the better of her,” I finally said, “I’m going to, uh, keep doing espionage. I need to find out a few more things. I’ll see you later.” I swallowed my fear. Rolling could handle himself. I had stopped for too long. I needed to catch up to the General.

“Hold on! What should I do?” Surprise put a hoof on my shoulder to keep me from running off. I held back a twinge of annoyance.

“You, uh... see if you can find Rolling. Then get us a room for the night. Talk to the owner of the bar upstairs.”

“Uh... okay. I’ll do that.”

“Right. Thanks. Bye.” I gave her a small nod and trotted off toward the front gate, guessing that was where Swiftfoot would meet the prince.

“Bye...”

* * * * *

I got lucky.

I stuck my head around the bend and caught Swiftfoot just as he was greeting Gleaming Armor—and his prisoners. Boss, Hairpins, and all the others stood together, shackles around their feet. A small ring had been put around the base of Boss’s horn. Probably one of those ‘null rings’ that one griffin had mentioned. I quickly retreated at the sight of them, not wanting to be recognized if I were spotted. I picked a random unicorn I had noticed in the market and disguised myself as him. He was a dull azure with a grayish mane.

The two soldiers from before and the prince’s companions were guarding the former slavers. I could see now that the unicorn was a mare. The helmet she had been wearing was clipped to the side of her armor, revealing a uniquely golden mane. Her forehead was stained with dried blood, and she was watching Boss with a wrathful look. The other pony—the cloaked figure—was behind them, the barest sliver of a snout visible beneath its hood.

“Greetings, your Highness,” the Major General said with a short salute. He was standing in front of the prince, who was smiling even wider than when he had been fighting Boss. I kept myself in the shadow of the hallway as best I could, and listened. “Your quest was successful, then?”

“Very. It may be presumptuous of me to say this, but I believe we will be able to accelerate our plans. We may be able to take their stronghold by the end of next week.” He glanced back quickly at the prisoners behind him, his smile turning giddy.

“Mm? Excellent! I knew you would be impressed, ma’am. Our Prince is the greatest unicorn in this land!” Swiftfoot’s words were directed over Gleaming Armor, toward the cloaked figure. She said something in response, but I couldn’t make it out. Her words were too muddled. Boss raised an eyebrow, and I saw Hairpin’s eyes widen with shock.

“Yes, I am happy you think so,” the prince said.

“Sir...” the angry mare muttered.

“But enough chatter!” Gleaming Armor declared. “As you can see, General Lute is injured and these prisoners need to be moved somewhere secure ASAP. We should continue this discussion in private. We have plans to make.”

“Yes sir, of course,” Swiftfoot responded. “I have a room upstairs. We can speak there if you wish.”

“Excellent. Take me there.”

“You two!” Swiftfoot motioned to the gate guards. “Help escort these prisoners to the jail and then get the General some aid. Now follow me, your Highness. It is a bit of a walk, but my room is on the top floor.”

The moment they stepped in my direction I ducked back into the hallway, not wanting to be caught spying. I trotted back into another side-hallway, lingering in the shadows until they passed me. I followed them, keeping just distant enough so they were out of sight but still audible.

“Tell me, Swiftfoot, how are things proceeding here? What of that ritual?”

“The population is much more receptive of us than they were in Maize. I was able to perform the ritual, but it seems we will need to repeat it at regular intervals in order to keep the citizens satisfied. Unfortunately, Major Ruby is unable to be convincing enough and I have not had time to train him in my magic; so I may be unable to continue accompanying you on the warpath.”

“Hmm. Do what you can. I do not want more ponies staying behind than is absolutely necessary. Even with our... supporting elements, we can not be too careful. We have yet to meet the true force of the Steel Rangers.”

“Yes, sir. I will do all I can. But it is imperative we keep this ruse up. If these ponies discovered it, there would could be an uprising. At the very least we would lose all their trust. Nopony wants to eat poison.”

“I know, Swiftfoot. But neither we nor they can do anything about that. Besides, we have greater goals than just this dying place.”

“Yes, my lord, I know.”

I frowned. Ruse? Poison? Ritual? What were they talking about? Was there not actually a spell? Had Swiftfoot been lying earlier? What was really going on with the plantations?

I thought about it for a moment and I decided I didn’t care. Let them worry about their own food. I sought an altogether different nourishment. I continued to follow them in the dark, but nothing more substantial was said.

* * * * *

I had to stop and wait when they reached the marketplace. The moment the prince stepped into view every soldier in the room sprang into action, guarding him and making a big fuss in order to keep his route clear. A few ponies—mostly mares—shouted words of admiration, but the majority simply stepped out of their way without making much of a scene. The soldiers formed a barrier in front of the stairwell after the Gleaming Armor and Swiftfoot entered, though it was mostly for show. Only a few ponies were curious enough to try and peek over them.

I sighed and stayed in the hallway’s darkness as I waited for them to clear out. I probably wouldn’t get another opportunity to get close to the prince, now. Not as a normal pony anyway. I started to ponder my options, but suddenly there was a breath in my ear.

“Admire the prince, little one? Or are you simply nosey?"

I swung around to face the voice, pulling out one of my knives to hover in front of me. It was the cloaked figure.

“Calm yourself, little one.” Her voice was low, emerging from the darkness beneath her hood like echoes from a deep cave. There was something strange about it. Something in the timbre was unlike any other voice I had heard so far. “If I wished you harm you would know it by now.”

"Who are you?” I demanded. I still couldn’t make out any of her features. The light from the marketplace didn’t penetrate this far in.

“You ask? I am nopony to you, but even I can see you are a spy. Tell me: Who are you? Why do you spy like this?” She was smiling at me. I could hear it in her voice. In the smugness. I pushed the knife closer to her throat, forcing her to take a step back.

“I’m nopony,” I spat back. “What are you doing with Gleaming Armor? Why are you dressed like that?” I didn’t really want answers from her. I was angry that I had let this stranger sneak up on me—let her see me spy on the prince—and I wanted to get back at her for that.

“I asked you to calm yourself, little one. Do not disobey.” The condescending tone in her voice was gone, replaced with a cold aura of command. I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Make me,” I challenged. What could she do to me? I had a knife to her throat. I wouldn’t even need my usually surprises.

“Gladly,” said a second voice from beside me. I whirled, just in time to see a pair of legs appearing out of thin air mid-buck. I had no time to process this beyond fear and confusion, but I managed to duck low enough so that the blow was almost glancing. I cried out in pain as hooves cracked into my skull and horn, and I was flung backwards, out into the edge of the market. My knife clattered to the ground beside me.

I dragged myself up, stumbling in place as I tried to balance myself. My head was swimming. The world was eternally turning over itself as I tried to focus my vision back down the hallway. Somehow, I managed to raise the knives again, breathing hard as I fought past nausea. The cloaked figure stepped into view and stopped suddenly. I somehow registered that she was shocked. And then I registered how quiet the market had suddenly become.

Run you fool, run—!

I glanced behind me, forgetting to worry about my invisible attacker. Everyone was staring at me. Some gawking, some horrified, some just confused. I felt a wetness on my forehead, and moved a hoof up to check what it was. I blinked erratically, still trying to focus my vision. There was green on my hoof. Blood trickling through one of the holes—

I blinked again as it hit me.

I was undisguised.

Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Hive Builder - +5 Repair and +5 Medicine.

Author's Note

asdfsgdhfjgkhljk-- This has been sitting in my GDocs for months now, inching its way to 'completion.' Not sure I like where I've ended up, and I'm sure I've missed a few things in my editing sweeps, but this chapter's good enough for now. School has been killing all of my free time, but I haven't forgotten about this.

Anyway, as always, I welcome all comments and criticisms. And thank you Kkat for creating this universe in the first place, and all the others who have worked so hard to help expand and enrich it. You're all really awesome. /)^3^(\

Chapter 9: New Canterlot

“There’s something living in these lies.”

I woke up to another throbbing head. I couldn't recall anything that had happened after I last talked to Surprise, but I quickly gave up trying to remember when I realized where I was.

"Good mornin' princess," Hairpins intoned, grinning at me through a wall of iron bars. "Fancy seein' you here." I punched a hoof at her face, but she moved back, snickering. "Oh come on now, ah didn't put ya' here."

I growled at her and turned away. I was not in the mood for her taunts. I growled again when I saw where I was. We were in the slave building on the Plantation, turned now into a straight-up jailhouse. Tumbleweed was with Hairpins in the cell next to me, sleeping in a corner. Holster was alone in a cell near the end of the room, while Boss and Fishhooks were in the one opposite me. The stallion and I glared at each other, and I did my best to will his head to explode.

Finally, my curiosity overcame my anger. "Why am I here?" I asked Hairpins, turning begrudgingly back to her cell. She gave me a queer look.

"Wadda ya’ mean?"

"I mean: 'Why am I here?’' Why am I in this cell?" I glanced around again, and noticed I was undisguised. I panicked and immediately triggered my magic. Nothing happened. I couldn't even cast the spell. "Why can't I disguise!?"

“Well, ah’d assume that’s ‘cuz a’ that ring on yer horn,” she said, pointing.

I felt my head with a hoof. I winced when I found a deep gash there, freshly inflamed, and, just above it, a metal ring clinging to the base of my horn. That must be the reason I couldn’t cast spells. I moved another hoof up and tried to pull it off, but the harder I tried the tighter it squeezed, and I finally gave up, gasping in pain. My head kept throbbing.

“You can’t pull off null rings, you stupid bug,” Boss grunted from across the room. “It only responds to magic. That’s why it works.” I glared at him again. His own ring was nestled around the base of his horn. An ugly little thing of black steel.

“As fer how ya’ got here,” Hairpins continued, “all ah know is th’ NCs dragged ya in here an hour ago an’ left. Didn’t say a word, even when ah asked ‘em. Bunch a’ pretentious bastards, they are.” She continued to mutter insults, even after I turned away. I tried to think, to remember what had happened to me, but it was hard to concentrate through my headache. I traced my memories up until I glimpsed Gleaming Armor’s return, but after that was nothing. I sighed. I was queasy and tired, and I wouldn’t be escaping any time soon without my magic. Across from me, Boss was still glaring. I gave him one last spiteful look before curling up in a cell corner.

The pain left me as I drifted off, but as I dreamed my old hunger returned.

“Feed!” the world screamed at me. “Feed! Feed!” But I could not. There was nothing here. Nothing but dark walls. I ran, but nothing changed. I wept and begged and ran until my hooves bled but still there was nothing but dark walls and that scream.

“Feed! Feed!” I was so hungry I could feel the sound reverberating within me.

“Feed!” the world cired. “Feed and save me!” But I could not. I did not know where she was. I did not know how to eat. I could not find love here. I could not find her. Where was she? Where was my Queen? My mother?

“Up. Save me. Save us! Up!” I tried to look. I tried to find her. My neck was too heavy. I could not look up. I glimpsed a light shining above me, but I could not reach it. I could not gaze into it. I was too weak. Too tired. I tired to move my feet, and found them bound to the ground by chains and roots.

“Feed! Save! Up!”

I gasped. I struggled. I could not look up. I was too heavy. I could not save her. I could not feed.

“...die...”

There was a faint light—a new light—in the distance, glowing blue. Wisps of purple smoke crept from it, reaching forward. I felt fear. It was coming. Not for me, I had nothing to do with it, but it was coming this way regardless, and I would be crushed under its procession.

“Feed! Save! Up! Run!”

It was too much. I curled up against one of the dark walls and squeezed my eyes shut. I could not feed; there was no food here. I could not look up; I was too heavy. I could not get out of the way; I was trapped here. Maybe if I gew small enough I would be stepped over and left alone. Maybe. Or maybe I would die regardless. At least then I would no longer be hungry.

“Feed...”

“...die...”

I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored the voices, both the new and the old. I thought of nothing. I got used to my hunger. Slowly, the ground grew cold beneath me, and I breathed evenly in the dark.

I thought of nothing for a while, until another voice bubble up from the abyss.

“...be glad, brother. I do not offer this mercy to others. Serve us. Help us win this war. You’re power could still be of use.” Gleaming Armor’s voice.

“Fuck you—and don’t call me brother, you creepy fuck. I won’t ever serve you.” Boss’s voice. I realized I was awake.

“Then you’ll die.” I rolled over. It was night now. The cell had been as dark as my dream. There was a single light, shining from the tip of a soldier’s horn. Gleaming Armor stood beside him. The light was a piercing white, blinding me to all else. I was reminded of my encounter in the alley, and a stroke of fear shot through me.

“I would rather die.” Boss’s voice dripped with anger. A silence stretched on, but Gleaming Armor did not move. Not even a twitch. For a moment I thought he had become a statue, the lighting gave his coat the appearance of marble.

“So be it,” he finally said. I tilted my head enough to catch the edge of the prince’s grin. “That will serve us just as well, in time. A rather short time, in fact.”

“What? What?” Boss’s voice was a whisper; a small, fearful gasp. The sudden change sent a chill through me. “Don’t tell me that bullshit Cobb told me is true! You can’t—!”

“I can and I will.” Gleaming Armor laughed, a light, trilling sound. A sound that did not belong here. “Do you plan to stop me once you’re dead?” he mocked. Boss did not reply. “I will give you until dawn to decide. After that the matter moves out of my hooves.” Without another word the prince and his attendant strode away. I blinked to clear my eyes of their light’s red stain, and wondered what I had just witnessed.

“Fucking bug,” Boss muttered. “All ‘cuz of that fucking bug.”

“Shut up!” I snarled. After everything he’d done to me he still blamed me for his misery. I wanted to rip out his throat.

“Fuck you, bug,” he grumbled. “Are you happy? Happy that I’m going to die?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Well fuck you. I would have been safe in Tenpony tower by now if you hadn’t shown up. Do you know what you’ve done to me? You bugs don’t even have your own minds. I bet you fuckers don’t even understand what you’re eating!” I ground my teeth together as he spoke, wishing I could snap his neck and taste more pony meat. “You fucking bug—you’re all supposed to be extinct” I growled and slammed my hooves against my prison bars.

“Would y’all kindly shut yer damn mouths!” Hairpins interrupted. “Ah’m tryin’ t’ sleep!”

“You can sleep all you want when you’re dead,” Boss shot back. I heard him huff in the dark.

“Pha!” Hairpin’s scoff turned into a cackle. “Oh you poor, sad suckbag. Ah didn’t even do nothin’. It’s you they’re putting t’ death, backstabber.”

“They—they punish slavery, pins,” Boss said. “You’re just as guilty. They’ll hang you without a second thought.”

“Ha! It’s yer word against mine, an’ don’t you ferget that ah’m th’ one they found pointin’ a gun at yer back.” Boss could only seethe in silence.

I snorted in disgust. I hoped they’d both die and finally be out of my life. I just wanted to go back to sleep; my headache was starting to creep back, and that dream was still heavy on my mind. I laid back down, but, to my chagrin, sleep did not return. I lay awake for several hours, shifting in discomfort until dawn came.

“Up! Wake up, prisoners!” our jailer shouted at us. I heard his keys rattle and our cells slide open. “Get up! Line up! Quickly! His High Justice does not like waiting, and we have bigger concerns than the trials of slavers. Up! Get up!”

* * * * *

Nopony else was about. The guard marched us single-file across the plantation, our hooves tied together by shackles. The ground was soft, and I saw dew clinging to a few weeds that were worming their way up the side of a watchtower. The sky was especially dark today. We halted outside the barracks, where two other guards were standing at attention. Our escort levitated a ring of keys from his side, and unlocked the chains around Boss’s feet. He had been at the head of our line.

“In, and to the left,” was all that the jailer said.

Boss trotted slowly through the doorway and disappeared. “...can’t be right,” I heard him mutter as he stepped out of sight. “Cobb’s always been crazy...”

The jailer took up a sentry position on the other side of us, across from his companions. No one spoke. I was at the back of the line, Fishhooks in front of me. She flicked her tail from time to time, and I saw her head moving ever so slightly back and forth, from the barracks door to our jailer and back again. I found myself doing the same.

Feed...

I couldn’t ignore the hunger from my dreams anymore. It was still growing.

After a long while our jailer moved again. “You next,” he said, motioning to Holster. The stallion glared at our jailer, but did not fight back. I saw his shoulders slump as he stepped through the doorway and disappeared. Slowly, one by one, the others followed. I glimpsed the sun as it rose beyond the cloud cover, and after that the world grew much darker. I looked up. The clouds threatened rain soon.

Feed...

“You. Changeling.” Finally it was my turn. All the others had gone in already. The jailer followed me through the door. I went to the left, and another door greeted me. The last time I had been here, the room beyond had been full of lofts for Garlic’s underlings. Now they were gone. The NCs had installed two small rows of seating near the entrance, beyond which stood two podiums made out of sheet metal and repurposed wood. The smaller one was in the center of the room, facing it’s much larger sibling. Another flag of New Canterlot’s steel sun hung from it. My eyes widened when I saw who stood there. It was some sort of monster. He towered over me, even from this distance, his form so massive he had to duck his body to prevent his horns from scraping the ceiling. His head looked too small for the rest of his body. A squished nose and beady blue eyes gave him the appearance of a bull, but his arms looked closer to those of a griffin, and his chest was of a shape alien to me.

I could not stop to gape, however; my jailer pushed me forward onto the first podium, and a gate swung shut behind me, locking me into its unraised stage. I wasn’t sure what was going on here, but I did not like it.

“Changeling,” the beast before me spoke. “You stand accused of conspiracy against the Equestrian state, conspiracy against the state of New Canterlot, conspiracy to commit regicide, espionage, rape in the first degree, rape in the second degree, murder in the first degree, murder in the second degree, seduction through ignorance, kidnapping, ponynapping, and impersonation of royalty, government officials, and any or all other civil offices. How do you plead?”

I stared at him, agast. What did he mean? Did he think I’d done all those things? Why? I didn’t understood what half of that even meant. How could he know anyway?

The monster leaned forward, huffing in annoyance. “Changeling, did you not hear me? How do you plead?”

...guilty...

“Gilt—” I started to answer.

...NOT guilty, I said NOT guilty!

“Not guilty,” I blurted.

He sighed in annoyance. “As I thought. No early lunch.” He leaned back and picked up something from the podium. It was a small white sphere identical—possibly the same—to the one I had used when I kidnaped Tulip. He raised it slightly and then slammed it three times against the surface in front of him. “The Second Superior Court of New Canterlot is now in session. I, Iron Mallet, High Justice of New Canterlot, shall act as judge and jury for this trial. The defendant, this changeling, is charged by the state of New Canterlot of conspiracy against the Equestrian state, conspiracy against the state of New Canterlot, conspiracy to commit regicide, espionage, rape in the first degree, rape in the second degree, murder in the first degree, murder in the second degree, seduction through ignorance, kidnapping, ponynapping, and impersonation of royalty, government officials, and any or all other civil offices. Let it be known that the defendant has pleaded not guilty to these charges.”

By the time he was done speaking I had recovered enough from my earlier surprise to take a look around me. Beside the guard, there were several others here. A small goat—I’m not sure how I knew what a goat was, but I when I saw the ugly horned creature the name came to me—sat near the corner of the room, and seemed to be writing down everything the monster was saying on a stack of parchment that he had sitting by his side. My eyes widened when I saw Gleaming Armor behind me, sitting on the farthest bench in the back. Beside him was the cloaked figure, obscured even more so by the darkness of the room. The sight of her sent a jolt through me. She had caught me. She was responsible for this. I recalled her voice, and a vague sense of foreboding. My memory was returning, slowly.

Iron Mallet cleared his throat, and I snapped my head back around. “I will be honest with you, changeling, many of these charges are based only on supposition. You did, however, attempt to stalk our prince, and one mare has directly accused you of impersonating her. So it is on the charges of conspiracy to commit regicide, conspiracy against the state of New Canterlot, seduction through ignorance, ponynapping, and impersonation of government officials that I will focus. Did you, a day prior to this one, stalk Gleaming Armor, Prince of New Canterlot, shortly after he returned to the city of Bulbs?”

“N-no,” I said.

“Really? We have accounts from two witnesses that say differently. Do not lie to me changeling. Further deceit will only increase your punishment.” His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, becoming somehow more monstrous than before. “I’ll ask again: Did you stalk our Prince upon his return?”

“I...” I swallowed. “Yes.”

“Hmph. Very well. Now, why did you stalk him? What was your intention?”

“I was just curious.” I couldn’t lie outright, I realize. I would have to be more creative to salvage my situation.

“Curious about what? It seems very much as if you were plotting to replace our Prince.”

“No, I... I was just gathering information.” I couldn’t let them know about my plan to get love from him. They weren’t far off already.

“Information? For whom?”

“For, uh... just for myself. I’m just curious.” Behind me the prince giggled. Iron Mallet scoffed.

“A circular argument. I do not believe you understand your situation changeling. You are a parasite to us. You should be thanking Celestia for even the opportunity to defend yourself. Do not squander it. I ask again: Why did you stalk our Prince?” He growled the last sentence, curling his lips into a scowl. I swallowed again, feeling trapped. I couldn’t get out of here. I was powerless and surrounded. But then I remembered—I wasn’t the only one in the world with plans.

“I was gathering information,” I said. “I was getting it for a ghoul. I don’t know why she wants it. She just hired me to get it.”

“Ghoul?” This time it was Gleaming Armor who spoke. “Did you say a ghoul?”

“Your Highness, please,” Iron Mallet said. He turned back to me. “What is the name of this ghoul?”

“Pitch.” I replied. “Professor Pitch.”

“And how did you come to meet her?”

“I... I found her research station. I was looking for someplace to sleep and I found her there.”

“Research station? Where is it?”

I pointed vaguely in the direction Rolling had taken me after we escaped. “That way. It’s abandoned and infested with zombies, which is why I didn’t stay.” There. That was a good foundation for a story. I was just getting information. A harmless spy.

Iron Mallet raised an eyebrow. “Very well, changeling, now answer me this: Did you impersonate the mare Tulip and attempt to seduce her late husband Garlic, the pony formerly responsible for the management of this ‘plantation?’”

The abrupt change of topic caught me by surprise.

“N-no,” I said.

“Changeling—”

“I didn’t seduce him,” I blurted. “I-I didn’t. I just ate his love.”

Iron Mallet opened his mouth to speak, but shut it quickly. He looked puzzled. “Explain,” he demanded.

“I mean, I just... disguised as her and he gave me some love when he saw me. I didn’t try to, uh, do anything with him.” My mouth felt dry.

“Explain in detail, Changeling,” Iron Mallet demanded.

I froze, but only for a moment. I took a short breath and began talking. I told him about what happened in Bulbs. I changed some things. I left out Spare Parts. I left out Tumbleweed. I said that I had been looking for work on the plantation. I admitted to kidnapping Tulip. I described how their love had been too irresistible. I said I had only wanted a taste. One taste and then I would have left. If not for the battle I would have left. And it was true. I had meant to take his love—his life—and leave. I hadn’t meant for all that nonsense with Light Ray to happen. I had just wanted some love. The rest wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know any better. I wasn’t to blame.

I swallowed again as I finished my tale. My mouth felt dry. Iron Mallet’s expression had not changed while I spoke. He kept glaring at me with those blue, beady eyes. “And who was the sniper who killed Garlic?” he asked. “Mrs. Tulip told us of how you escaped.”

“I don’t know,” I said, forcing myself to shrug casually. “He killed him and left. He didn’t say anything when I asked why.” Iron Mallet narrowed his eyes.

“I see. Very well, Changeling, I have heard enough. I, Iron Mallet, High Justice of New Canterlot, shall now announce the verdict.” He cleared his throat, giving me the opportunity to wonder what a verdict was. “On the charge of conspiracy against the Equestrian state, I find you guilty. On the charge of conspiracy against the state of New Canterlot, I find you guilty. On the charge of conspiracy to commit regicide, I find you not guilty. On the charge of espionage, I find you guilty. On the charge of rape in the first degree, I find you not guilty. On the charge of rape in the second degree, I find you not guilty. On the charge of murder in the first degree, I find you not guilty. On the charge of murder in the second degree, I find you guilty. On the charge of seduction through ignorance, I find you not guilty. On the charges of kidnapping and ponynapping, I find you guilty. On the charge of impersonation of royalty, government officials, and any or all other civil offices, I find you not guilty.”

“As punishment for these crimes, we shall hereby conscript you into the Royal Army of New Canterlot. Minimum service of twenty years. Further infractions of the law will result in an extension of this sentence, demotion to more menial labor, or death, depending on the severity of said infraction.” Again he took the white sphere in his hand and slammed it down. “The court has spoken. This session is over.” As soon as he finished speaking he stepped down from the podium, and the goat with the parchment stepped over to meet him. Iron Mallet took the parchment from his assistant and then the two marched quickly out of the room through a door near the back of the right wall. I saw that his feet were hooved. Another anatomical oddity.

I stared at the door in shock, still trying to process Iron Mallet’s last torrent of words. At some point the jailer stepped up to my side.

“Conscript?” I managed to ask.

“Oh yes, Changeling,” Gleaming Armor called from behind me. “Conscription.” I turned around. He was standing at the edge of the seating now, the hooded figure lurking behind him. A playful smile was on his lips. “Were you expecting death for your punishment? Death is rampant these days. It is a plague, in fact. A plague born of the chaos of the wastes. I seek to cure that plague, and to end that chaos. And now you will aid me in that pursuit.” He trotted forward as he spoke, and was now at my side, opposite the jailer. His smile had only widened. I was torn between hating and fearing it.

“Your crimes are unique, but not extreme,” Gleaming Armor continued. “As I said, the waste is chaos. Why should we expect more from those who attempt to live there? We are quite forgiving here. We of New Canterlot believe in second chances.” He giggled again. “There are some crimes, of course, that cannot be forgiven, some ponies which must be made an example of, but, in most cases, we do not waste ponypower. We forgive your sins, and you, in turn, devote your work to us. Our justice is not a guillotine, it is a hammer; a sickle; a wall—it is progress.”

He had circled me, and was again standing beside the hooded figure. “My prince,” she murmured. “Your words are wasted on this creature. I insist you dispose of him. He will not stop his hunt.” The prince scoffed.

“Thank you for your concern, Aegis, but I am fine. If I may remind you: I once thought similarly about you.” He turned back to me. “Welcome to New Canterlot, Changeling. You are one of us now. We are the rock around which Equestria will rise, and you shall either rise with us or be ground away to nothing.” He smiled again, and headed for the door I’d come through. “I will see you later, Changeling. Goldstone, I leave the rest to you.”

“Yes, sir,” said the jailer with a salute. And without another word the prince was gone, followed quickly by Aegis. I had her name now. I felt excited about that, like I had overheard a secret. “Come with me, Changeling,” Goldstone demanded, breaking my brief moment of joy. I followed.

* * * * *

“Gleaming let this thing live?” Lute asked, raising an eyebrow. Goldstone had marched me to her office, which sat at the very back of the barracks. The room was sparse, with one filing cabinet, a flag of the steel sun, and a desk for the General to sit at. A picture of Gleaming Armor rested on one of its corners.

“Yes, Sir,” Goldstone replied. “He seemed quite pleased with the sentencing.”

“Hmm.” General Lute frowned at me. I glared back. “Fine. At least he will be marginally more useful than those mud-ponies. Give me a moment, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Sir.” I turned my head to watch him go. He looked just like every other soldier I’d seen wandering around this place. Lute cleared her throat, and I gave her my attention. She, at least, had a different hair color. Beneath her bangs I could see a small scar from the head injury she’d taken in her battle with Boss. Her Cutie Mark also stood out. It was a curving red streak that ended in a cartoonish explosion. I had almost taken a liking to her before she opened her mouth.

“Changeling,” she asked, “what is your name?”

“Worker,” I replied. She smiled.

“Good. That’s a fitting name. Now, I can tell by that expression that you don’t like me. I don’t care. I don’t care if anyone likes me. All I care about is that you obey me. You are a soldier of New Canterlot now. That means you are under my command and the command of all your other superior officers. When you speak to us you will address us as ‘Sir,’ and when we ask you to jump you will never ask why; you will say ‘Yes, Sir,’ and you will jump! Am I being clear, Worker?”

I fought down my urge to lash out at her. “Yes,” I muttered.

“What was that?” she asked. “Louder, Worker!”

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes what?” she barked, taking an abrupt step toward me. Her horn was aglow with red light. I flinched back, eyes widening.

“Y-yes... yes, Sir!” I said.

“Good. You learn fast.” She stepped back, her horn cooling, and frowned at me again. “Normally when my army receives new recruits they are sent to bootcamp and trained to become proper soldiers. Unfortunately, we do not have the time for that right now, so it is your job to keep learning fast and obey our every command. There will be fighting soon. Sooner than we expect, most likely, and if you are to survive in our battles you must learn to obey. Follow your superiors at all times and you will be lead to victory. Do you understand, Worker?”

“Yes... Sir.” Battles? Fighting? This was all too much, too fast. I wanted no part in any of it. The second I could I’d slip away and try to find Rolling again. Him or Surprise.

“Good. Now understand this: just because we have decided to forgive you of your crimes does not mean we have forgotten about them. Prince Gleaming Armor and I have informed all our soldiers about you and your powers. Any attempt to leave this building without an escort and the permission of a superior officer will result in your execution. The same is true of any attempt made to remove that ring on your horn. Desertion is also punishable by death. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir...” I tried to keep my face neutral. This ‘conscription’ was just another form of slavery.

“Good. That is all I have to say to you for now, Worker. As of this moment you are a soldier in the Royal Army of New Canterlot. Welcome, Private, may Luna protect you as you slumber, and may you see Celestia’s rays once more.” She gave me a curt salute. I returned it automatically, and she nodded in approval, still frowning. “Good. You will bunk with the rest of the criminals in room D. Lieutenant Goldstone will escort you.” She pointed behind me. “Now get out of my sight. You are dismissed.”

I couldn’t trot out of her office quickly enough. Goldstone was waiting for me there. He nodded for me to follow him and then set off without another word.

...feed...

I finally had time to process what had just happened to me, but all I could focus on was my renewed hunger. I hadn’t had any sort of meal in almost two days. I would need to fix that. I took note of who I passed as I followed my jailer through the bunker. Or at least I tried to. Every soldier was identical to the last, except for those who had the odd marking or a medal on their armor. I growled in frustration. Even if I could disguise I wouldn’t have known who I was impersonating.

One of them heard me growl, and raised an eyebrow at me as I walked by. The gesture only worsened my mood. The most aggravating part of this experience was how little attention they all paid me, like I was an insect they had to step over. Even Gleaming seemed to only be amused by me. What? Was I not strange enough for them? I knew for a fact that none of them had ever seen a Changeling before—probably. Bunch of identical freaks.

I debated just making a break for the entrance, but all my instincts told me that was a bad idea. I would need more than a pair of fangs to fight these ponies. I needed my magic.

...feed...

After a short walk, Goldstone stopped in front of a door and motioned me inside, holding it open with his magic. I stepped through, unsure of what to expect. I balked in surprise and disgust. They were here. All the slavers, minus Boss. Hairpins and Tumbleweed were sitting on the ground, in the middle of some sort of card game. Holster was watching them, a distant look on his face. There were three bunk beds in this room, and Fishhooks was laying in the one nearest to me, her back turned. I cursed my luck. Why couldn’t they all just be dead?

“You again?” I spat out the words. The three on the floor looked up from their game.

“Fuck you too, bug,” Tumbleweed said.

“Well shoot,” said Hairpins, “looks like ah owe ya’ ten caps, Holster.”

“Mmhm.” Holster just frowned at me.

I glanced back at Goldstone, reevaluating my escape idea. He had stepped forward to block the doorway, and returned my pleading expression with a stern look.

“You’d best forget your past grievances,” he told me. “These ponies will be your brothers-in-arms, and when we march, you all will march with the vanguard.” Before I could say anything more, he stepped out and shut the door. I heard a lock click. I groaned as I turned back to my new ‘brothers.’

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tumbleweed said. “None of us like it either. Don’t make it worse.”

Unfortunately, he was right; acting on my hate for them would not improve my situation. I swallowed my retort, and stepped past the trio of slavers to claim a bunk.

“You!” The sudden appearance of the voice scared me almost as much as its venom.

A dark form jumped from the top bunk, tackling me to the ground. Before I could react a hoof was on my throat, pressing down. I gagged, my vision blurring from tears as I tried to shake off my attackers. I kicked upward, and heard a grunt. Somewhere to my left there was another shout.

“Whoa, there! Stop that!”

I heard more movement, a scream of frustration, and then the hoof was gone. I gasped for breath and rolled over, blinking to clear my sight. I coughed up green phlegm, but I finally recovered enough to focus on who had jumped me. I wheezed in shock.

“Let me go!” Tulip screamed. “Let me kill that fucker!” She looked much dirtier than the last time I had seen her, with small bags under her furious eyes and several scars around her flanks and torso. Also... was that a bite mark around her neck? She made another lunge for me, but Hairpins and Holster continued to hold her back. I flinched backwards.

“Calm down, missy,” Hairpins demanded. “Do ya wanna get yerself executed?”

“Fuck you!” Tulip shot back. “Fuck all of you! This is all your fault!” She broke free for long enough to point a hoof at me. “You ruined my life, you fucking body-stealing bug freak! I’m gunna fucking kill you!”

I hissed at her and backed away. I didn’t care what that guard said. There was no way I would be staying in the same room as this mare. We’d both end up dead. I kicked the door with a rear hoof and shouted for someone to open it. Tulip continued to struggle, but she was not strong enough to overcome two ponies. I gave another shout.

“Don’t bother,” Tumbleweed said to me. “Fishhooks banged on that thing for a good ten minutes when they first threw us in here. Nopony here cares enough to keep tabs on us.”

...feed...

“I am not staying here,” I snapped. “Not with her.” He shrugged and looked over at Tulip. She’d given up her struggle, and was now blubbering into Hairpins’ lap. Hairpins gave her a few halfhearted pats on the back and looked up at us, her expression a perfect mix of annoyed and confused.

“...’s fuckin’ bug’s fault...” I heard her say between sobs. My anger got the better of me.

“Stop calling me that!” I started toward her, and this time Tumbleweed had to restrain me. “We’re not bugs! And you should be grateful I didn’t just kill you when I had the chance! You’re lucky to be alive at all! You.... fuck you! Just fuck you!” She made an enraged sobbing sound and I tore myself away. I growled at the door and began to pace. Tulip’s crying was the only sound in the room.

“Why are you even here?” I demanded. I recalled the story Surprise had told me in the market.

Tulip didn’t respond.

“Why are you here?” I repeated. “Why? What did you do?”

“Enough already!” Tumbleweed said. “Shut up about your shit. I don’t fucking care.”

I growled at him too.

“Fuck this shit...”

* * * * *

...feed...

I was awoken by my hunger for a third time. I uncurled myself, and got up to test the door handle. Still locked. I had expected as much, but by now my pangs had become maddening, and there was no way I would get love from any of these ponies.

...feed...

The hate between Tulip and I had not gone away; after she had finished with her sobbing, she had retreated back to her bunk, but she had not turned her back on me. We had stared at each other for the rest of the day, with me curled up as close to the door as possible, while Hairpins and the rest continued to play cards. At one point Fishhooks got out of bed to use the bathroom (there was a small door near the back of the room I hadn’t noticed before) and shortly after she returned the light in our room turned off. That was the NCs’ way of telling us it was bedtime. So I’d stayed there, staring at Tulip in the darkness, twitching at every little noise the ponies around me made, until neither my fear nor frustration could fend off sleep any longer.

...feed...

Fishhooks sniffled in the dark. I ignored it, but it happened again, and within a few moments she had fell into a full-on cry. I ground my teeth together and stood. “What are you doing?” I hissed into the dark. She halted with an intake of breath.

“They killed him...” she muttered into her pillow.

“Who?”

“Boss.” She sniffled. “They killed him. He’s dead.”

...feed...

“Good riddance,” I said. She broke down again. I sighed in disgust, and went back to my spot on the floor. Why did she care so much?

...feed...

I rolled over, trying as hard as I could to ignore the hunger in my mind. It was no use. I couldn’t get back to sleep.

...feed...

* * * * *

...feed...

The door slammed open the same moment our light finally came back on.

“Up!” Goldstone shouted to us. “Get up, all of you!”

I wobbled as I stood. Already I was beginning to starve. Behind me the ponies climbed out of their beds. Goldstone yelled at them to line up.

“We do not have much time. Eat your breakfast quickly, then we will brief you on your mission and duties.” As he spoke another soldier stepped into view. “This is Private Sapphire. She will escort you all to and from the mess hall—except you, Changeling. You will be coming with me.” My ears flattened at his tone.

...feed...

The others filed out first. Tulip gave me a nasty look a she passed, and I readied myself to fight, but nothing came of it. Fishhooks was still sniffling. I followed Goldstone back down the hall, where we then split off from the others. He had his back turned to me, but there were too many soldiers passing us for me to try anything. Once again I felt the weight of the ring around my horn.

...feed...

“Here we are.”

Goldstone opened a doorway, and I was surprised to see that he had led me outside. This was where the shooting range had been. The area was fenced in now, and at each corner tall torches had been driven into the ground. They lessened the dimness of the Wasteland’s morning. Near the center, facing me, I again saw the hooded figure—Aegis. Beside her stood Gleaming Armor who was, as usual, smiling, even while in conversation with Lute. Goldstone pushed me forward, and the three took notice.

“Ah, excellent. Thank you, Goldstone,” Gleaming Armor said. “You may leave us now.”

“Yes, sir.” The door shut behind me. Gleaming Armor advanced.

“What do you want?” I asked, taking a step back. I glanced briefly upward. They were stupid to bring me out here. Their ring didn’t affect my wings.

“I know what you’re thinking, Changeling.” The prince laughed. “If you try to escape now, all you will bring to yourself is unneeded pain. Corporate with us.” He was not asking.

“What do you want?” I repeated. He was circling me again, running his eyes up and down my body.

“Information,” he said, stopping in front of me. “We’re going to do some experiments.” He brought a hoof to his wrist, and I noticed that he had acquired a PipBuck. Around its edges his coat was stained pink. He chuckled, and my eyes darted back up to his.

“I see you recognize it. It detects your kind quite well, but it has surprisingly little information about you or your capabilities. I intend to fix that.” He set his hoof back down. “Lute, if you would, remove his ring.”

...idiots...

I forced myself not to smile.

“Sir.” Lute frowned, but she did not pause to carry out his request. Her horn lit up, and I felt the ring slip off. A shiver went through my body as it passed the tip, and then my magic was back again. I didn’t waste a second. I bolted sideways, jumping into the air and flapping as hard as I could. One of Gleaming’s energy barrier’s appeared in front of me, but I quickly dodged under it. I felt a brief exhilaration, but then Lute shouted something.

“LASER!”

A streak of red flashed past me, crackling in the air, and my right wing exploded into pain. I cried out and fell, slamming into the ground. I gasped for breath, in too much pain to fear further retaliation.

“I warned you,” Gleaming Armor said. “Cheap tricks will not work here, Changeling.”

I screamed, twisting to see what had happened. My right wing was almost entirely gone, the edges of what was left were charred and oozing. I could do little but curl up and moan until the pain faded to a tolerable throb. I began to feel sick.

“Get up, Changeling,” Gleaming demanded. “I do not wish to waste any more time.”

I didn’t move.

“Do you want to lose the other wing?”

I brought my head up. He was not smiling anymore. Lute’s horn was still glowing red with energy. I wobbled to my feet, suppressing my queasiness.

“Good. Now, if you cooperate from here on out, I will heal your wing. You will cooperate, correct?”

“Yes,” I choked out.

“Good. Now, we want to test the limits of your powers. Impersonate Lute.”

I grimaced as I focused my magic, but the pain lessened greatly as my spell completed. Gleaming smiled again. “Glorious!” he said, looking back and forth between us, “an exact duplicate! Impersonate me.”

I obeyed.

“Ah ha ha! Very good, very good... but much too somber. Now, impersonate Goldstone.”

It took me a moment, but I recalled that his Cutie Mark had been a closed lock. Marks were the only way I could tell soldiers apart.

“Good. Now...” His smile widened into a grin. “Impersonate Aegis.” I heard the cloaked mare take a sharp breath. Lute smirked at that.

I focused my magic, but the spell would not complete. I hadn’t seen any of her. I couldn’t form any sort of picture in my mind. “I can’t,” I said.

“Hmm, I see, I see...” Gleaming Armor resumed his circling. “But this is nice, very nice...”

...feed...

“Sir, the idol?” Lute suggested curtly.

“Ah yes! I’d forgotten. Show it to him.”

With another burst of magic, Lute produced a small object from her saddlebags and floated it in front of me. “Impersonate this,” she said. I squinted at it. It was a figurine of a mare, similar to the one of Rainbow Dash that Professor Pitch had, but this was of somepony different. White coat; flowing purple hair; it was in such pristine condition that the small pony practically glowed in the bleakness of the morning. On its base were the words “Be Unwavering.”

Rarity....

The name and a new memory soured the beautiful sight, and I took a small step back.

“It won’t work,” I said without thinking. Even if she were still alive, I’d never want to wear her skin.

“Try,” said Gleaming Armor.

“It won’t work,” I repeated.

“Your commanding officer is ordering you to try,” Lute said, narrowing her eyes.

I gulped, and ruefully focused my magic. I thought of her hair. Of her coat. Of her Cutie Mark. Of everything she had her friends had done to us. Of the pain and humiliation. I thought of Canterlot, and the castle we had lured them to. I thought of her eyes, and finally the spell triggered.

What?

“My oh my!” Gleaming laughed. Lute scoffed. Aegis gasped.

Impossible!

I gasped as well, and turned in a circle to examine myself. I was her. I was Rarity. Quickly, I tried others. Bright Lights; nothing. Spare Parts; nothing. Garlic; nothing. Boss... nothing. I looked at the trio in front of me, slackjawed. This was impossible. She was dead. They were all dead. They were—

...feed...

I felt something much more horrifying.

“Excellent, excellent!” Gleaming Armor said. “Mmm.... I’m very impressed. I never thought I’d be able to see the legendary beauty; Rarity in the flesh!” I looked up at him, unsure of what to do. “Yes, very impressed...”

...feed...

Despite myself, I reached out to taste his lust. I shivered, but kept drinking. I was a bitter, viscous syrup. I did not want it, but it was the first meal I’d had in days. I couldn’t stop my leaching, even as he continued to circle me. I could feel where his eyes were going. I tensed as he touched a hoof to my back.

“I told you this Changeling would be useful, Aegis.” Gleaming shook me slightly as he spoke, like he was showing off a new toy. “Just look at it! Look at what it can do!”

“Reconsider, my Prince,” Aegis pleased. “You cannot tame this creature. All it knows is hunger.”

“For once I’m with her, Sir,” Lute said. “He’s too dangerous.”

“All criminals are dangerous. That is why we shackle them,” Gleaming retorted. “Now, Lute, if you would: take care of the Changeling. I’ve seen what I needed.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lute said with a sigh.

“Good.” The prince took one last look at me, winked, and then trotted back inside. Aegis moved to follow, but paused near the doorway. I turned around as Lute’s horn began to glow. The null ring hovered in the air between us, tinting the world red. She narrowed her eyes at me, and the ring floated forward. I tensed, but I couldn’t bring myself to resist. My disguise faltered the moment it slipped onto my horn, and I hissed in pain as my burnt wing reappeared.

“Oh right,” Lute said. “Aegis, give me a potion.”

I heard the cloaked mare tisk in annoyance. “It is here,” she said. “But never call me by my name again, little pony. You do not have the right to be so familiar.” Something flew over my head and landed in Lute’s magic. She shoved the bottle toward me, and I grasped it gratefully in my forehooves.

“Oh, is that an order your highness?” Lute asked. I splashed the healing potion onto my injured wing. I managed not to cry out in pain as it regrew, but the feeling still sent shivers down my spine. When the process was over, looked up to see Aegis and Lute locked in a staring contest. Or at least I assumed Aegis was staring. I still could not see her eyes.

“All words of mine are orders,” Aegis finally said. “That is the consequence of my title.” Lute opened her mouth to retort, but Aegis cut her off. “Speak no more of this. We have told this creature too much already.” Lute grimaced, sparing a glance at me.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Aegis nodded and turned, following in Gleaming’s hoofsteps. Lute motioned toward the door. “March, worker,” she said. I did, glad that this ‘testing’ session was over.

“Why do you hate Aegis?” I asked her after a moment.

“What was that?” she snapped.

“W-why do you hate Aegis?”

“I can’t hear you, Private!”

“Why do you hate Aegis, Sir?” I tried again, forcing a smile.

“None of your Celestia-damned business!” I dropped my smile. She wasn’t going to just give me information. She hated me, I knew, but at least I’d learned one thing from her: Aegis was the princess I’d been looking for. She’d called her ‘your Highness,’ and I could think of only one explanation for that. I allowed myself that little victory. I hadn’t failed in my quest after all! I could steal her love, or Gleaming’s love... I would just have to do it when everypony knew who and what I was. I didn’t know where to begin, but I couldn’t think of many other options at this point. I had to succeed. Otherwise I would starve.

...you dense fool...

* * * * *

“What do you know about the hooded mare, Aegis?” I asked Hairpins. Lute had dropped me off at the mess hall—which felt surprisingly spacious for how small this building had looked on the outside—and after deciding that I didn’t want any of the brown mush the cook was serving, I had joined my fellow captives at their table. I didn’t really want to sit with them, but I wanted to sit with the soldiers even less, and all tables were occupied. Tulip had glared daggers at me when I approached, but the others had hardly reacted. They had eaten in near silence until I spoke.

“Not much. Only that she gives me th’ willies. Her ‘n’ that creepy prince she always follows around.” Hairpins slurped at her bowl, and looked across the table at Fishhooks. She was still sulking, and had not touched her meal. “Fishy, starvin’ yerself ain’t gunna bring the bastard back.” Fishhooks didn’t respond, but after a moment she sighed and started eating slowly. Hairpins turned back to me. “Ah didn't even know she had a name. Why’d ya’ ask?”

“No reason,” I said. Hairpins frowned.

“If yer lookin’ t’ get in ta th’ prince’s pants, ah c’n tell ya right now that that freaky mare ain’t th’ way t’ go. Whatever they got is strictly business. An’ ah don’t think it’s that kinda business nether. They got some dark magical plot brewin’, I c’n tell.”

"Dark magic?" What was she on about?

"Sure, like, uh... what was it you were sayin' earlier, Tumble?"

Tumbleweed, who was sitting at her side, looked up from his half-empty bowl. "I didn't say anything," he said briskly. "It was Holster that said it. I still don't believe him." All three of us looked across at Holster.

"Dark magic," he said. "Balefire, necromancy, mind control, that sort of shit. The kinda magic that poisons your soul. I think that's what these ponies are after. That's why they're working with that zebra."

"Zebra?" I frowned.

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Tulip.

"You said that mare's name was Aegis, right Changeling?" I nodded. "That's a zebra name. That explains why she's trying to hide herself."

"Bullshit," chided Hairpins. "How do you know that's a zebra name?"

"I was around when they were raiding a few years back. I heard enough to recognize. Besides, does 'Aegis' sound like a pony name to you?"

“Yeah okay... but why the hell would these bastards work with zebras?” Tumbleweed jerked a hoof at one table of soldiers.

“Quiet!” whispered Holster. “And like I said, they want dark magic. You’ve heard all that mumbo-jumbo about how they’re gunna ‘revitalize the Wasteland’ and whatnot, how do you think they’re gunna do it? Not with this little army, that’s for sure. Look, I...” he glanced around, to be sure he wasn’t being overheard. “There was this one time, right before the NCs came down and smashed those zebras in Chard. I saw some shit. Stumbled into a group of those zebras raiders hiding out in an old barn. They were chantin’ around some weird circle of green fire—”

He looked up abruptly. I turned, scooting closer to Hairpins when I noticed that Goldstone had appeared behind me. The jailer pursed his lips.

“Making friends, are we? Good. We are expecting a counter-attack from the Steel Rangers soon, and we need every one of our soldiers ready for battle.”

“How soon?” I asked. Goldstone smiled.

“Very soon. Now get up, all of you. The general wants her new recruits to get some training under their belts before real combat.” He whisked away the plates on our tabled with his magic, and nodded toward the door. Hairpins grumbled about having her breakfast cut short, but the rest of us obeyed silently—I made sure to keep my distance from Tulip as we were marched back through the barracks.

* * * * *

“TASER!” Lute screamed again, and again I barely managed to juke the blue bolt that flashed from her horn. I stumbled and fell, and when next she shouted I could not manage to roll away in time. I gargled in pain as my body spasmed as electricity washed through it. The shock was over after only a moment, but it left my limbs numb and useless. Lute grinned down at me from the platform she stood on.

“Good, you’re getting better. Now get up and do it again, dirtbags!”

We were out in the shooting range again, and this time we were the targets. Our ‘training’ was little more than a race: we began at the edge of the barracks and had to made it all the way across the range without getting hit by Lute’s magical bolts. The general herself stood on a raised stage that had been built at the back of the yard. If we could touch the stage we would ‘win’ that particular race. Even after several hours, the best anyone had managed had been almost two thirds of the way across the yard—where I now lay.

“I hate this,” I muttered as I slunk back to the starting line. Goldstone was still sitting near the doorway, watching us impassively.

“Ya know, ah ain’t even mad anymore,” Hairpins drawled. “Ah just want this shit t’ be over with so ah c’n sleep.” Her whole body sagged, and her mane had started to droop after all this exertion. I probably did not look much better. All my limbs were sore, and even though my wing had healed its earlier wound, it still ached at the memory of what Lute had done to it.

...feed...

Already my hunger was creeping back.

“On your mark... go!” Lute shouted, and we were off. Pain shot through my tired muscles, but once I was in motion my aches were forgotten. I sprinted forward, breaking into a sporadic zig-zag as soon as Lute sent a bolt my way. She could only fire at one spot, but she still managed to keep all six of us on our hooves for the first several meters. Holster was the first to fall, followed by Tulip and then Fishhooks. Lute’s barrage intensified, and I felt my horn tingle as one of her blue bolts nearly hit its mark. Miraculously, I managed to make it to my record, and saw that nopony else had fallen. A trio of shots flew at me; I ducked and was forced to scamper backwards in order to avoid them all. I launched myself forward to regain momentum, and saw Tumbleweed nearly trip into a bolt. Hairpins had managed to get farthest ahead, and just as I thought she might make it Lute rushed across the platform.

“FLASH!” she cried. White light burst from her horn, blinding me. I yelped and stumbled forward, putting my head down instinctively. “TASER! TASER!” I heard Hairpins go down. I blinked to clear my vision, but a million pins of fire plunged into my back and I collapsed. I groaned in pain as my senses returned, and looked up at the mare I was quickly beginning to loathe. She was looking down at Tumbleweed, bemused. The stallion had a forehoof planted firmly on the edge of the stage; the rest of him sagged.

“Excellent work, soldier,” Lute grumbled. “Your performance was almost impressive for a mud-pony.” Tumbleweed’s eyes widened in rage, and he lunged upward. Lute shot him down with a bolt to the chest. She frowned. “Goldstone! Take these sad excuses for soldiers and drill them on formations. I won’t accept this level of weakness in my army. If nothing else you will be memorable canon fodder.” She jumped down, stepped over the still-recovering Tumbleweed, and trotted across the yard.

I began to rise, but Lute halted shortly after she passed. She looked back at me with an annoyed expression.

“What?” I grumbled.

“Gleaming wants you. Now.”

“What?” I tensed.

“Get up you maggot. I have better things to do than foalsit the likes of you.” She continued forward, and I had no choice but to follow. I was too weak to resist; each step was a battle against invisible mud. At least I would be spared any more of this training.

* * * * *

“Tell me, Changeling, do you know what this is? I believe you’ve utilized one before.” Gleaming Armor balanced the white sphere he was referring to on a forehoof, the usual smile on his face. We were in his bedroom; a simple room with only a desk and a straw mat with some bedding. Lute stood behind me, guarding the doorway.

“It’s a magical trap.”

“Hmm.” Gleaming pursed his lips. “That is an interesting way to think about it, but no—this is a memory orb. We found it here, among the spoils we took from Garlic. I gifted it to the honorable Iron Mallet upon our most recent victory, but I have since found need to use it.” His face softened, turning reflective. “It was quite embarrassing, to ask for a gift to be returned. Were that minotaur a more prideful person I’m sure he would have been enraged at the offense. But even then it will be worth the damage; if you make it so.”

“What the hell do you want?” I was tired of his pretentious spiels. Even now I was fantasizing about ways to kill him.

“Gaze into it. I need you to see somepony who is in here, and then I need you to become them.” I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He frowned. “Applejack. She is the orange mare who appears briefly in the beginning. Note her and remember her. This memory is rather long, I’m told, but it is the only way I have to show you her image. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I mumbled. As much as I hated him, I was in no position to resist his requests. I was tried, and even with my magic I would not be able to fight these two ponies.

“Very good. Lute, if you would.”

“Yes, sir.”

I felt the ring come off, and my magic return. Gleaming presented the orb to me, and smiled. “Just touch it—reach out with your magic, and the memory will do the rest.” I hesitated. “Must we clip your wings again, Changeling?” I sighed.

“No.” Lute opened her mouth, but I had already triggered my magic. The world rushed away as my mind was thrown back into the abyss of time.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

I was not me. This body was purely female; rigid and unchanging. The notion was the first thing I felt. I then noticed where I was: a roadway, lit brightly by the sun above. My head moved against my will, and I saw the mare Gleaming had mentioned. Applejack stood near the door of a vehicle, two ponies in what resembled dumbed-down Steel Ranger armor at her sides. It struck me then that I had seen her before, on that poster in Bulbs—but even if I had remember earlier I would not have told Gleaming. I would give them nothing for free, I vowed, and even if this memory gave me trivial information, I would still learn something about the past from it. The mare I inhabited grinned.

“See you soon Applejack! I’ll make sure to say hi to Twilight for you!” At once, I recognized her voice; the high and piercing whine of Pinkie Pie. I wanted to cringe at the sound of it, but I could not express myself in this state.

“Thanks, Pinkie. Ah’m glad we got ta chat.” The orange mare gave a final wave goodbye, and stepped back into her vehicle. Pinkie flailed a hoof in the air until the door closed, and began bouncing away the moment after. I could not believe what I was experiencing. She bounded down the sidewalk, humming a tune to herself with her eyes closed, utterly oblivious to the dozens of ponies she was no-doubt nearly colliding with.

Mercifully, the sensations ended quickly, and she settled down to a trot after fishing through her hair for... something. She did not look at what she had removed, but from what I could tell it was some sort of small metallic case that rattled as she opened it. With a swift movement of her hooves she popped what felt like a small pill into her mouth and swallowed. She then returned the tin to its place in her mane.

I had no idea what the pill was, but if it had any effects on her, I couldn’t feel them. Pinkie continued to trot forward, glancing left and right to take in the scenery, and I was forced to take it in with her. Around her was a cityscape, with buildings taller and more numerous than I had ever imagined. The streets were full of ponies, carriages, and the odd vehicle I couldn’t identify. We passed a small flower shop on one of the street corners, and Pinkie paused to take a whiff of some red and yellow buds. The smell was pleasant, but dull. Pinkie smiled at the nervous-looking store owner before resuming her lively trot.

These sights and sensations stirred something in my mind. This was normal; this was what Equestria had been like before the end of the war. Moving; busy; alive. Surely I could had never gone hungry here... and yet somehow we had starved.

...feed...

As Pinkie continued, the details of the city began to reach me. Reminders of the war were everywhere; above us on billboards and posters, and around us in the windows and walls of buildings.

“Work for Equestria... Fight for Equestria!” they said.

“Let’s all fight: Buy war bonds!” they demanded.

“Never trust a no-pony!” they warned, “Zebra eyes are zebra spies!”

“Pinkie Pie is watching you! Forever!”

On they went.

Pinkie looked over at a pony reading a newspaper. The headline began “Zebras strike in—” but the rest was lost under a fold. He glanced up, and Pinkie smiled, but his eyes widened, and he quickly looked back down. Pinkie’s ear twitched, and I felt her cheeks drop infinitesimally.

We reached her destination abruptly when she halted in front of a pair of sliding glass doors. Pinkie checked her sides and back—presumably to see if she had been followed—and then glanced up at the lettering above the storefront: “Berry Wears: For all your medical needs!” The words even had the same mare I’d seen in Chard leaning over them. I would have raised an eyebrow if I could have, but Pinkie only smiled and walked through the doorway.

The store was dimly lit, and Pinkie skipped to the back before I could take in much detail. The space was smaller than I had expected; more than twice the size of Gleaming’s room, but not by much. The walls and several shelves were lined with organized rows of products, but Pinkie seemed more interested in the mare at the counter. She was purple with a lighter mane, and for a moment I saw Twilight Sparkle. But this was not that mare. Her hair was clumped and messy, with several strands of grey beginning to grow in. She was leaning back in a chair, taking a deep swig from a blank brown bottle while reading another copy of the news. When she saw Pinkie approaching she smirked.

“Hiya Berry!” Pinkie chirped.

“Well hey there, Pinkie. What brings you to Baltimare?”

“Me and Twilight have some super secret war stuff to talk about today, but she’s busy giving another of her boring speeches right now and I’m almost out of Party Time Mint-als! And a Pinkie without her parties is just no Pinkie at all, you know?”

“Oh yes, oh yes.” Berry nodded, getting up and walking around the cashier desk to put hoof over her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of them—as many as you want! But you know we’ve got franchises all over, right? Don’t tell me the Pinchy’s been doing bad business in Ponyville...” She frowned, concerned.

“Oh of course I know that, silly. I had plenty the last time I bought them, but now I don’t anymore— simple as that! And I’m always so busy now keeping everypony safe and finding all these stupid spies!” She stomped a hoof down and huffed in disgust. “But you know that, Berry. That’s why I need them so bad. I... I just can’t do this on my own anymore...” Strangely, I felt her hair droop slightly as she said those last words.

“Of course, of course. Nopony can Pinkie. Nopony can save the world on their own. That’s why we all gotta have friends, am I right?” Berry shook her slightly, bending to show Pinkie her smile. “So tell me, you need anything else, or are the PTMs it?”

“Nopey-dopey!” She lifted her head up and smiled again. “Although... lately my Pinkie-sense is getting weaker, even with the Party-Times. They don’t help me as much as they used to. Do... do you have anything stronger? Or do I just need to eat more of them?” Berry’s eyes widened, and she gave her a funny look.

“Stronger? Oh-ho girl I’ve got plenty of things that are stronger, but I—”

“Give it to me!” Pinkie demanded, practically pouncing on Berry. “Pretty please! I’ll take as much as you can give!”

“Whoa, take it easy.” Berry frowned. “I’ve got stuff that’s stronger, but I don’t think it’s the right kind of strong.”

“What!?” Pinkie snapped. “What does that mean?”

“I mean the effects... aren’t as focused as the mints. They help you think, right? Well the stronger stuff boosts... everything. It’s... look, I can’t actually sell it normally without prescriptions; it’s strong stuff, Pinkie. You can’t just take it willy-nilly.”

“I don’t care, Berry, I need something stronger. I need it, or else everypony is going to get hurt, I... I can feel something big coming. Something really big, Berry. If my Pinkie-sense can’t figure out what it is, nothing can. It’s still a ways off, but... I’m... I’m the only pony who can stop this, Berry. Please, Berry, please...” Tears welled up in her eyes, and I felt her lip quivering.

Berry looked Pinkie up and down. “Alright,” she said. “I’ve got some samples in the back. Follow me.”

“Yay!” Pinkie burst back into happiness. She bounced up and down as Berry unlocked the door to a storage space behind the main desk. “Oh this is so exciting! Stronger than Party-Times... Oh! Oh! What if they’re strong enough for me to see the future! Then I could save everypony for sure! I could see where they would be, where they are... I could win the war myself! I could just sneak in and stop all of those meanies and then nopony would be sad ever again! The war would be over and everypony would be so happy—!” The door opened, and she sprinted in. “Oh! What’s this? What’s that pink thing? It’s pretty! Oh wow, this is so well organized, Berry!”

“Thanks Pinkie...” Berry stepped in front of her and removed an inhaler from one of the storage racks. It was Dash; identical to the stuff I’d bought. “This is it. The strongest I’ve got,” she said. “But... look, Pinkie, don’t take too big of a hit on your first go, alright? This slows everything down, and makes you tick faster, but it can be too much to handle for some ponies. This is military grade stuff.”

“Okay! Okay! Just... can I have it now? I won’t take too much, I promise—Pinkie promise! Just let me try some. Please, please, pleeeeeease?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Here you go.” Berry held out the inhaler, and Pinkie snatched it up. “Just press that button and breath in, but not too much like I said—”

Before she could finish talking Pinkie had already put it to her mouth and taken a deep puff. She blinked for a few moments before frowning. Berry raised a concerned eyebrow.

“I don’t think it work—Ooh-ooooh—”

The world stopped.

Pinkie blinked. Suddenly, everything tingled. It was not a strong sensation, but suddenly it was as if there were a billion little balls all bouncing off of her coat and skin. Before us, Berry, who had been bringing up her hoof to gesture, was now frozen in motion. Pinkie moved forward, but the air resisted, and she had to shove her way forward—as if wading through water. My mind was boggled by the sensation.

“What?” Pinkie mouthed—no sound came from the movement, even when she tried to say it again. “What’s going on?” Still no sound.

Panicked, she began looking around—a process made difficult by the air’s newfound viscosity—and then finally decided to make for the store’s entrance. This took great effort; though the air was difficult to shove through it was still not dense enough to allow for proper swimming. When she reached the door she was panting, and opening it took an even greater exertion. Breathing was just as difficult: the air was heavy on its way in and out.

Pinkie grunted, and the door budged open. She gasped silently for both of us. The world was frozen—ponies were stuck mid-trot; a newspaper was suspended in the air, in the midst of being blown about by the wind; a stallion bent over a fruit stall in an impossible equilibrium. As Pinkie trudged through this silent sculpture, I felt her jaw moving over and over. “Twilight,” she was trying to say. “Twilight... help... Twilight...” I noticed, as we moved, that everything was tinted in a strange shade of blue.

We struggled along for minutes, managing to at last to get into the rhythm of an arduous trot. I could not tell where we were now: Pinkie had shut her eyes tight, possibly to block out the increasing blueness. All I could sense was her shaking limbs and her voiceless begging. Then, all at once, an incredible hunger. Not my hunger—physical hunger, and a weakness that swept through every inch of her being. She stopped, panting at the ground, but that only increased the strain in her chest. The blueness receded and Pinkie looked back to check her progress. That was a mistake. The resistance stopped, but at once she began to see a red tint and black spots, and though she gasped for breath no air came—the space behind her was a vacuum. Immediately, she turned back around, plunging her head back into the syrup of air. But her body’s weakness was still there. She floated downward, resting on her knees.

“Twilight...” she mouthed again. “Help...” She reached back into her mane, grabbing at the only resource she had. The resistance was incredible, but she tugged and tugged until finally it gave. She brought it down in front of her and smiled, but her expression dropped abruptly. A flame, bright and tiny, grew from its edge. Slowly, ever so slowly, the flame grew, spreading to encase the case while growing brighter and brighter until Pinkie had to turn her head. I could not know if she had the same realization as me: we were watching an explosion in slow motion. When its heat stung her hoof she tossed it away, opening her mouth to shout. I noticed the blueness around us fade away in a brief instant.

The world came rushing back to life—and then an incredible heat and the sound of a thousand whip cracks blasted me back to reality.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

I pulled away from the orb with a gasp.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Gleaming Armor mused. “I believe the General put it best: ‘That’s some shit.’"

“Thank you, Sir,” Lute muttered, glancing aside.

“What the hell happened?” I asked.

“We are not entirely sure.” Gleaming shrugged. “But we are not here to explain strange, drug-induced memories. Show me what you learned. Change into Applejack.” He did not smile, but his eyes were eager. I closed my eyes and sighed. I pushed my questions down, and concentrated on Applejack’s image. Her face; the green of her eyes; her Cutie Mark... I focused my magic, thought of her as clearly as I could, and then—nothing. I blinked in confusion.

“Is there a problem?”

“N-no, no.” I tried again. I frowned. I tried again. “It’s not working.”

“What do you mean?” Gleaming’s eyes narrowed.

I tried again. “I can’t do it. I can’t disguise as her.”

“Did you not look?” He towered over me, eyes smoldering.

“I did! I did!”

“Describe her.”

“Orange—blond! W-with freckles and an apple Cutie Mark. She wore a hat!”

“Now disguise as her!”

“I can’t!” I yelled. Gleaming nodded to Lute. Before I could protest, another laser struck me. I screamed and collapsed as part of my foreleg evaporated. The world went red for a moment. When it cleared Gleaming was above me, and I was curled up on the ground, holding my nearly severed limb. Lute had hit me perfectly on the knee. Only a thin slice of flesh was keeping the two halves together.

“I do not expect you to understand such things as my desires, Changeling,” Gleaming spoke, “but I will show no mercy against those who seek to undermine them. Now change into Applejack.”

I could do nothing but gurgle. I felt sick.

“Change into her!”

“I... I can’t,” I pleaded. “We...” I gagged. I wanted to vomit. This injury was bad. Very bad.

“Why? Do not lie to me, Changeling.”

“We...” I gagged again. “We can’t... disguise as the dead...” My head swam, and I felt bile at the back of my throat. Pain continued to pulse through my foreleg. This was bad. I would never walk again. I could die from this.

“Yet you disguised as Rarity—is that the best lie you can conceive of?”

“Please,” I begged. “I don’t understand why... but we can’t—we’re not supposed to—” I forced myself not to heave. “—be able to—” But I couldn’t hold back any longer: I threw up, retching and sputtering. My wound exploded again as I inadvertently coated it in green slime. This only caused me to vomit more. But the pain suddenly faded. I collapsed onto my side, unable to say anything more as my limb grew numb. My world started to fade to black.

“Well, well, what is this?” Gleaming sounded curious. “How very interesting...”

I came too only a few moments later. Gleaming and Lute still stood over me, but the threat in their stance was gone. I glanced back and forth between the two, slowly catching my breath. I looked down at my leg. Whatever I had vomited up, it was not the contents of my stomach. The green goop had already hardened around my wound, filling in the flesh completely and wrapping the joint in a hard casing. I looked at it, and, on instinct, reached out with my magic. The casing glowed, then burst into nothing. A jolt of heat swept through my limb and—a miracle!—I saw that it was whole again. A small scar traced where the hole had been, but other than that it appeared as good as new. I allowed myself a smile.

...a good worker...

I stood up cautiously, testing my foreleg, and grew confidant enough to put weight on it. I looked at Gleaming Armor.

“Very impressive, Changeling. I have decided I believe you about Applejack.” He frowned. “This is unfortunate. When I first saw you I had hoped to subdue the Steel Rangers by symbology but alas—it seems their fate is to be that of all the other cancers in this land. As for you, we must think of a new use...” He stared at me, brow furrowed in thought. I glared back, unmoving. A cold fury twisted itself up inside me.

“Let me go,” I demanded.

Gleaming Armor smiled slowly. My fury turned to fear as I felt where his thoughts went. Hairpins had been right. I would find no love here, even as Aegis. This path was a dead end.

“Lute, escort him back to his quarters.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Again the null-ring went on. I did not speak to Lute as she marched me back to my quarters.

“In,” was all she said to me when we arrived. The door slammed shut behind me, and I made for my corner near Fishhook’s bed. Nopony else was back yet; or so I thought. A rustle from above me caused me to turn and look up. The knot in my gut unraveled into relief.

“Worker?”

“Surprise! You’re here!” I couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah...” The pegasus climbed cautiously to the ground. She was without her weapons, but still had her customized armor. “I figured I should save you, but after—” I jumped forward, wanting to hug her. She stopped me with a hoof to the chest and frowned.

“Er, thanks, but don’t... don’t touch me...”

“Uh, sorry,” I said, backing down. There was a pause.

“Look,” she said. “After this—when we get out of here you’ll owe me from now on, got it? Every one of these NCs is fuckin’ crazy.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ll do anything. Just get me out of here.”

New Perk: All-Purpose Green Goo - You may heal yourself at any time without using a healing potion, but doing so drains your energy proportionally. +5 Medicine. (Note: The perk All-Purpose Green Goo and the perk Completely Corrosive Acid are mutually exclusive).

Author's Note

Holy crap an update! Not even I can believe it. O_o

As always, I welcome all comments and criticisms. And thank you Kkat for creating this universe in the first place, and all the others who have worked so hard to help expand and enrich it. You're all really awesome. /)^3^(\

Chapter 10: Revelations

Author's Note

So I don't think I can even say I'm in this or the MLP fandom anymore but have another chapter anyway, hehhhhh...

Sorry for any typos, I haven't had time to edit sweep this yet. @___________@

Chapter 10: Revelations

“The past catches up with the Kid.”

...feed...

Feed!

My hunger woke me. There was a hole in my gut, squirming with maggots that gnawed at my insides. Their number grew with each passing moment, spreading to weaken my limbs and cloud my mind.

Feed...

I was desperate for love. But there was nothing here.

Feed...

I just needed to hold out a little longer. Tomorrow, Surprise had said. Tomorrow we could escape. She had whispered their plan to me: during our next training session, Rolling would cause a distraction, either by sniper fire or explosives, if he could find any. Then we could use the chaos to escape. It was a simple plan, and that worried me, but it was better than any more time spent here. Trapped and starving.

Feed!

The lights in the room burst on. Everyone else in the room stirred. I heard Tumbleweed groan. Before I could wonder what was happening, the door behind me opened. I dragged myself out of the way, wobbling as I stood. A wave of nausea passed over me. It was Gleaming Armor.

“Good morning, my little ponies,” he intoned. “I have joyous news!” He paused, making sure all eyes were open and on him. “Today we march! The Steel Rangers approach, and we must catch them en route. We will crush them on the warpath, and you all shall be apart of our vanguard. Now hurry and get ready. We set off in an hour.” He stepped back and the door slammed shut. Silence held the room as we all processed the announcement.

“Fucking bullshit,” Surprise said. Fishhooks slumped back into bed. Tumbleweed slammed a hoof into the nearest wall.

“Aw hell...” muttered Hairpins. “Not th’ Rangers...

I leaned against a bedpost, too exhausted to feel anything but my hunger. Tulip began sobbing.

Why now? Why today? What had I done to deserve this chain of misfortunes? Would they even give us weapons? I doubted it. We were their cannon fodder.

“Shit,” Surprise muttered, “shit, shit, shit.” We exchanged a knowing look, but said nothing. We had not told the others of our plan so there was no risk of letting it slip. I slightly different circumstances I may have felt bad about excluding fellow prisoners, but it was hard to summon real sympathy for former slavers.

I let my legs give out and slid onto the floor. I was so tired already, and we were about the march to war. There was nothing to do but wait.

* * * * *

Bomb collars again. I didn't react as one was clipped around my neck. The others muttered words of protest, but the soldiers who were guarding us made no comment. We were outside the plantation, being lined up for the march to war. There were other ponies here, besides the slavers, ponies I had never seen before. A few did not have bomb collars, Surprise among them, but most of those ponies were New Canterlot soldiers. They barked orders as Goldstone oversaw us. He stood at the front of our growing formation, his nose shriveled up in disgust. We were garbage.

“Do not protest this weight around your neck,” a voice from behind us declared. “It is merely the physical manifestation of the weight upon your soul. Die gloriously for us today, and you shall be remembered. Lead us to victory, and you take a great leap forward on your path toward redemption. Betray us, or let your cowardice control you, and we will not so much as acknowledge your entrails as we march through them toward our glorious future.” Gleaming Armor’s voice was amplified somehow. Though he was nowhere near us his words boomed in my ears. They were met with silence.

Goldstone began speaking. Giving us orders and laying out our plan of attack. I didn't pay attention. I didn't even try to. I was so weak I could barely stand. He gave a final shout, and suddenly we were moving. I shambled after the pony in front of me, glancing around one last time, hoping for a glimpse of Surprise. My only chance of escape lay with her and Rolling.

...feed...

We marched past Bulbs, and a crowd watched us pass by. Some waved, and a few cheered.

“Kick their asses!” one of the ponies hollered.

...feed...

We plodded down the road, a loose formation of four rows of three. The slavers and I made up the first two rows, while the ponies I had not recognized made up the rest. Goldstone and another soldier flanked us at a distance. Behind them the rest of New Canterlot marched in lockstep, banners waving overhead. Gleaming, Aegis, and Lute were at their front.

I had never been past Bulbs, but I was still intimately familiar with the terrain here: desolate farmland, pavement that bled into dirt and mud, a cold steel sky, and not a hill or building for miles. It stretched on for hours. We broke for a meal twice, and encountered nothing on our journey until the sun was setting. As the clouds blackened with night, I saw a faint light appear on the horizon. As we continued forward I watched it grow from a faint twinkle to a pulsing blob. It then separated into many smaller lights, and I realized I was looking at a city. Not a factory like Bulbs, but an actual live settlement made of buildings.

The lights I had been watching shone from the tops of several houses, blinking on and off with a rainbow of colors. As we grew ever closer, sound began to come forth from the town as well. As I listened I realized it was music. The same upbeat pattern repeated over and over, steadily increasing in volume. As the settlement came fully into view the music became an overwhelming blare, and I saw the source: hundreds of small, floating metal balls that bobbed around in the air. The massive clinking mess surrounded the apparent entrance to the town, a road that lead inward where I could see more lights and the silhouettes of several ponies moving around in the night.

It was totally dark now, save for the lights from the town and the those glinting off the cloud of strange speakers. I was eager to see inside the town, but though several others in our vanguard also raised their heads to stare Golstone urged us on, telling us not to even consider wasting our time. We kept on the main road, and the sights and sounds were soon swallowed by the darkness behind us.

“What was that?” I asked no one in particular.

“Seeds,” Holster replied.

“Ya don’t know?” Hairpins asked. “Ah’m surprised. Seems like th’ kinda place you’d like.”

Goldstone shushed us before I had a chance to ask what she meant by that and we marched on, until darkness engulfed us.

...feed...

* * * * *

Much later, I awoke, then groaned in pain as an intense ray of light shone into my eyes. I rolled over, and stood to find Goldstone looking down at me. It was still dusk; his horn was the source of the light.

“Come with me, Private,” he demanded. “Quickly.”

...feed...

I followed. I had almost no energy left. I let my head droop, and I watched Goldstone’s hooves as they scraped up the damp ground. He lead me up a hill, which surprised me. We had marched for long hours after passing Seeds before finally stopping to rest, so I had absolutely no idea where we were. The climate here was very different than the rest of the Fields. Grass grew on the hill, making the dirt feel solid and springy, and a light breeze was blowing, bringing with it the faint smell of the sea. I was surprised I recognized that smell, but I had no time to ponder this new information; we had reached the top of the hill.

“Sir, I brought it.”

“Thank you, Goldstone,” Gleaming Armor said. He sat at a long, low table, across from Lute. Maps strewn with markers were spread out between them. Lute used her magic to illuminate them in the darkness. “Dismissed.”

Goldstone nodded, and headed back down the hill. I stood, swaying slightly as my weariness and hunger beat down upon me. Sleep had done nothing for me. Gleaming and Lute continued to examine the maps before them, whispering strategy to each other. The first rays of light crept across the horizon.

...feed...

Finally, Gleaming Armor turned to address me.

“Changeling. I’m sure you’re wondering why I summoned you.”

I was not. I was thinking about how I might ever get love out of this situation. I had one idea, one I’d had for a while, but I did not like it. Not at all.

Gleaming frowned when I did not respond. “I want to ask you, are you still sure you cannot turn into Applejack? It would be such an impactful symbol! The Steel Rangers practically worship her, we hear."

“No,” I said. “I can’t.”

“Very well.” He sighed. “Regardless, I have some good news for you: I have pulled you from the vanguard. You will not be participating in this battle.” He smiled at me

I did not feel happy. This did not help me much. I was still hungry. I still needed love.

...feed...

Gleaming Armors face fell again when I did not react. “What? Would you rather be sent out to die?”

“Why?” I managed to ask.

He shrugged. “Simple, really. You are the only changeling we have, and there is still so much about you we do not understand. Not to mention your potential usefulness. It would be a shame to waste you by sending you out to die with the rest of those earth ponies.” He paused. I didn’t react. “You should be grateful,” he insisted. “You will be witness to our greatest victory yet. Our first real battle against the Steel Rangers!”

“Thanks,” I grumbled. I felt a small hint of satisfaction from him, but that made me more desperate for real feelings. Another pang of hunger struck me, and I fell forward onto one knee. “Love...” I sputtered, trying to stand back up.

“What?” Gleaming tilted his head. Lute looked up from her battle planning. “What did you say?”

“Love,” I repeated. I couldn't stop myself from speaking. “I’m... starving.”

“Did you not eat at the mess?” he asked

“Not food... I need love. I have no love.”

...feed...

Gleaming Armor laughed. “Love? So you actually need it to survive? Does food do nothing for you?” He leaned in toward me, looking over me like some new pet.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I need love.”

“How unfortunate for you, then. Neither my soldiers nor I have the time for love, and I would certainly never risk you using your magic near us, even just to play at love for your benefit.” He frowned. “But I cannot have you dying on us.”

“No magic,” I said. “The ring does not stop my eating. Love, happiness... anything. I just need some.... some good emotions.” I stopped myself from saying anything further; from begging for him to let me change into Rarity again and let him act on his lust for her form. The thought of it made me queasy, yet there was still a primal urge to surrender myself to him. It would feed me. I didn't have to like it. It would feed me.

Feed...

Lute smirked. “No wonder you maggots all died in the war.”

“Yes,” Gleaming agreed. “If that is the case, then worry not, Changeling. Our coming victory will bring plenty of ‘good emotions.’ Our men will be filled with triumphant pride, and we will celebrate exuberantly this coming evening.” He grinned widely.

I nodded. A small relief. I doubted his words, but even if New Canterlot did win i did not know how long a single night of victorious revelry would sustain me. Gleaming turned back to his planning, and I sunk to the ground to rest. I thought of Surprise and Rolling, and wondered if either could save me from this mess. I drifted off, daring to hope that I might wake up to freedom.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

The air swirled with ash and dust. We tried not to breath as we moved together in a huddle, the few of us who remained.

"Why... why do we make this journey?" Maggy rasped. She walked in front of me, looking up at the Queen as she spoke. Her legs wobbled with each step. All of ours did. The ache of hunger was constant in our minds. We could not even muster the energy to fly. "Why can we not sleep with the others?"

The Queen did not answer with words. She continued moving forward, over scorched earth and the ash that had once been a lush jungle. Only a few stumpy trees had mustered the strength to persist here.

We cannot sleep. If we all sleep, we will all die in our slumber. We must find love. We must find... something.

We had not found the crystals. The Wasteland had beaten us down too quickly. We had... retreated. To our home. To rest in our old castle. The one we had founded all those years ago, before the war. Before the world's end. Now, the Queen had woken us few. We had slept long, but we were not rested. Our Queen had not found love. Not even a morsel. She sent us visions of her failure, and those nightmares were heavy on my mind.

Our hunger will end, my children. Soon. Soon. I was too eager to find the crystals, but now that we have waited, the Wasteland is beginning to recover. Just a little further, my children, I will show you.

We crested a hill, and pain overwhelmed us as the heavens burst open with a blinding light.

...oooOOO===OOOooo...

I gasped as I jolted awake, and felt myself flying through the air. A moment later I hit the ground and slid down the hillside. I stopped shortly and lay there, sprawled out as I oriented myself. There was shouting all around me, the sound of gunfire, explosions, and the distant boom of canons. My vision was blurry but soon cleared, and I became aware of a pain on my rump. I stood up, and the pain shot down to my leg. I fell back down. A few feet above me Gleaming Armor giggled, and I looked at the hilltop. The prince held a trio of shimmering orange shields between himself and three Steel Rangers. Their suits were slimmer and each possessed much less weaponry than ones I had seen before; only a single canon along the right side of their bodies and two thin barrels on the left. Lute, her horn crackling with red lightning, stood at the prince’s side, murder on her muzzle.

The Steel Rangers spread out to flank the pair. Gleaming laughed, and vaulted forward. His shields dropped, and Lute let loose a volley of lasers. The Steel Rangers dodged and returned fire, but immediately Gleaming’s shields went back up. One of their bullets ricocheted and sunk into the ground in front of me with a wet sucking sound. I dragged myself sideways, trying to get out of the crossfire. An explosion tore through the hill above me as the Steel Rangers switched to their canons, and I heard Lute grunt as she was caught in the shockwave. She fell, and Gleaming staggered as well. His shields flickered and died. He slumped to the ground, and as one the Steel Rangers took aim. The boom of their cannons turned into a scream as Gleaming’s shields materialized only feet in front of their barrels. The Steel Rangers vanished in the smoke and dust of their own explosives, and I felt Gleaming Armor’s exhilaration as he popped back to his feet. He laughed again, giddy and boyish. The sound made my skin crawl.

I lay on the slope and breathed while the smoke cleared. The only sounds of battle were those in the distance. Lute groaned as she brought herself back to her feet. By now my earlier pain had subsided, and I stood as well. Below us, war was waged in the remnants of a river. The force of New Canterlot dashed around the battlefield, avoiding explosions and taking cover behind the waterlogged corpses of tiny twisted trees. Smokey specters danced above the riverbed, a runny sludge that had been overturned to expose wiry shrubs and shredded roots. The Steel Rangers held the opposing bank, launching artillery and a hail of bullets at the oncoming horde of white soldiers. The NCs responded with a fiery rainbow of magic. Most used lasers like Lute, red and searing, but several employed more creative magic. I saw many teleport in a blink of blue to the sides of Steel Rangers and blast their weaponry. A few used the purple grip of telekinesis to throw off their aim. Others simply hurled mud or used flashes of light to blind them. I saw several project orange shields, both as walls and as bubbles, but they lacked the durability of Gleaming Armor’s magic. I thought it strange that they all had the same color magic, but I guessed that was just a result of training. I saw no trace of the vanguard, but I could not make out any details from the hilltop anyway. Occasionally, there was a puff of green fire within the NC’s ranks. I could not tell what caused it.

“Changeling, come here,” Gleaming Armor said, breaking my trance. I shambled to his side.

One of the Steel Rangers was still alive. Her face mask had been blown off, and her muzzle was covered in blood, but she was not seriously injured, only stunned. Gleaming had materialized one of his shields above her prone form, preventing her from standing. When Lute had fully recovered he released it, and she incinerated the Ranger’s weapons before she could use them again. The mare scrambled up and tried to flee, but Gleaming boxed her in with another trio of shields. We approached the pink mare, and she braced herself to fight, but Gleaming stopped short of her.

“Get out of your suit,” he demanded. She furrowed her brow at him.

“Wha―what?”

“Strip! And leave the suit operable, or I will have your eyes burnt out. Slowly.” The mare face paled, and she hurried to remove her armor. Gleaming turned to me as she did. “Changeling, I have a job for you,” he said

“What... job?” I had a good guess, but I was hoping to be wrong. I was not.

“It appears that these ponies were sent to assassinate me,” he said. “You will be delivering the bad news to their superior... and returning the favor.”

* * * * *

As the battle grew nearer, I realized how quiet it was. Not the volume of sound, but the amount of it. Shots rang out. Explosions echoed off the hills behind me. Cries of pain flashed through my ears. Yet there were no other voices. No orders shouted. No information shared. As I skirted along the edge of the battle, pressing myself to the ground to avoid notice, it occurred to me how odd this all was. How were Gleaming and Lute directing their troops? Was it just a freeforall out there?

An answer would not help me here, but the question was a small distraction from the pain I was in. Hunger threatened to overwhelm me, and my face still felt as if it were on fire. Lute had struck me with a bolt of magic at Gleaming’s request in order to “make the disguise more convincing.” I would have killed him right then and there if I could have.

The suit, thankfully, carried its own weight, and even augmented my ailing strength. As I was, I doubted I could have made this trek naked. I crawled along the riverbed, making my way toward the Steel Ranger’s position. This suit was designed for stealth, and thanks to “some optics bullshit,” as its previous owner had put it, the metal on its outside shifted hue to blend in a bit more with the surrounding mud. I had no idea what I would do once I got close to the Steel Rangers, but the bomb collar had been broken down and stuffed into the suit with me, and Gleaming had been very careful to emphasize that there was no range limitation on the triggering mechanism. At the very least I was free of the null ring. Otherwise there would be no point in sending me at all.

...feed...

I frowned. There it was. That voice. Since regaining my magic it had invaded my mind, whispering that word to me to drive home every pang and gurgle of my famished body. It was familiar, somehow. I felt as if I should recognize it, but I could not place it...

...feed...

I thought back to my first day of life―of this life in hell―and struggled to remember. Had I heard it then? Or in the days after? Something told me I must have...

Feed...

But I no more time to ponder the voice. I had made it to the other bank, and I could see what looked like the Steel Ranger’s command post far ahead of me: a few tables thrown up in front of three armored wagons. Several ponies worked frantically in front of them, running back and forth between the front lines. I broke into a gallop, breathing hard.

As I approached, one of the ponies walked out to intercept me. I couldn't read his body language behind the suit of armor, but he had not readied his weapons.

“Private Shortcake, report!” he barked.

“We... it was a failure, Sir,” I said, using the lines I'd been rehearsing in mind for the last few minutes. “The Prince survived. I only got away after faking dead.”

“Cast Iron? Relish?

I shook my head. “They’re not faking, Sir.”

“My condolences. Get those wounds patched up, then report to the front line. We are having more trouble repelling their little ambush then I expected.” I nodded, then trotted off toward the convoy like I knew where I was going. A thought struck me.

“Sir?” I said, turning back to the Steel Ranger.

“Yes, Private?”

“I don’t think its a little ambush. They look like they have their whole army here.”

“Oh, do they now?” He tilted his head, and my heart leapt. His reaction struck me as strange. Had I given myself away somehow? A silence hung between us.

“Uhm, y-yes it sure looked that way to me,” I managed to say.

“Hmm, thank you for that information, Private. Get along to the medic. We relocated triage to behind the third carrier. Go there now.”

“Yes, Sir.” I said. My trot was much faster the second time. I didn't think about why he might have acted odd, I just wanted to cause some chaos and then get out before Gleamings troops broke through and I got caught in the crossfire.

I went around the side of the last armored wagon, and sure enough a small triage had been set up. Two fully armored ponies lay in the beds, attended by a single nurse. He was chocolate brown with tan spots on his legs and underside that looked more like stains than natural coloring. It struck me as odd that the setup was so empty, but immediately I was accosted by the undressed earth pony.

“Holy shit, Shortcake!” He sounded surprised. “You look so... you look like hell.” He held up a strange device and started waving it around my body.

“I feel worse,” I muttered. As he moved around me I tried to catch his eye, but he seemed to be deliberately avoiding my gaze. The bad feeling from earlier grew. “Am I gunna be okay?” I asked dumbly. He finished his scan, and the device beeped.

“You’ll live,” he said. In one swift motion, he removed another device from a nearby drawer, and stuck it to my suit with a metallic thunk.

“What is that?” I asked cautiously.

“Localized EMP,” he replied, taking several steps back.

“Local what?” The device activated, and my worry turned to terror, then pain, as my suit and body were rocked by an outpouring of electricity. I screamed silently for a moment, then collapsed to the ground. All I could manage was a groan as the two bedridden Steel Rangers jumped up and trained their weapons on me. The nurse was already walking away from us.

“He’s rigged, but low grade. Should be neutralized.” As he spoke I managed to find my voice.

“H-how did you―?” I choked out.

He glared at me. “Apparently, that idiot prince doesn’t know how to turn the mic off. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some real patients to attend to.”

I couldn’t move, but my pain was almost gone. Whatever an EMP was, it didn’t seem like it was designed to kill. I lay on the ground in silence for a while, staring down the barrels of the two suits in front of me. A mic? What was that? I thought back to the moment Boss had seen through my disguise wit his PipBuck. Did Steel Rangers have the same type of technology?

“Get him out of that thing,” a voice boomed behind me. It was the Steel Ranger from before. He must be a commander of some sort. The two ponies in from of me stepped to my sides. They did something for several moments, and then began pulling off pieces of my suit. Lute had welded it shut to keep me in with the explosives, so it was a long process of twisting and pulling, but the ponies seemed to have no problem with destroying their own property to get me out. As more of the suit came off I was free to move again, but I stayed still. I cooperated in silence partially from fear, partially from exhaustion, and partially out of simple curiosity.

When they were done, and the bomb I’d carried with me was disposed of, the two ponies stood me up between them to face their commander. I could see nothing behind that blank grey mask, but when he spoke his voice brimmed with rage.

“What are you?” he demanded. As an answer, I undisguised.

“A changeling,” I said. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Curious. Out of all the rumors I’d heard about this ‘New Canterlot’, this was not the one I expected to be true. If you want to live you will answer my questions. Where is Private Shortcake?”

“Captured. I don’t know where they’d put her.”

“Why is a changeling working with those lunatics?”

“They captured me. Enslaved me.”

“Are there any more of you?”

...feed...

The voice again. Now was not the best time for that. “No... I don’t know... no more of us are with the NCs, at least.”

“Hmph. Was it true what you said earlier? Is that force out there their entire army?”

“Yes,” I said. “Unless they have more where they came from, but that place is three days away at least.” I wished I knew more about the NCs. If I told this Steel Ranger enough, maybe he would just let me go. I just needed to make myself look harmless. A victim in all this. “Please, I’ll help you in whatever way I can. I just want to get away from all this.” He did not reply for a while. He looked up at his soldiers.

“Bring him with us. The battle needs my attention, but I will have more questions.” The two nodded, then pushed me along after their commander.

...feed...

Hunger cut through my fear and discomfort, and I stumbled as we walked. When I looked up again, I saw the battle had turned sour for the Rangers. They were pushed back, and the NCs had advanced all the way across the riverbed. A hundred yards separated us from the front lines now.

“Shit,” the commander cursed. He began barking orders, calling for a new formation, but it seemed the situation had advanced beyond his control. I watched as a squad of three NCs was obliterated by a barrage of concentrated cannon fire, only for twice their number to teleport behind the offending Rangers and melt them in a web of lasers. A moment later, two white soldiers appeared in front of us and opened fire. I dived to avoid their salvo, scrambling across the ground to hide underneath one of the convoy vehicles.

I watched in awe and horror as one of the ponies who had been guarding me was cut down by a flurry of red. His partner took down one of the NCs, but died all the same a moment later. I could not see the commander any more. I backed up for better cover; the battle was all noise now. Roaring cannons, ringing shot, sizzling lasers. Screams of rage and agony. The smell of charred flesh found its way to me. I gagged.

An explosion, then cries to regroup. All around me there was a sudden roar as the vehicle's engine started up. My heart leapt to my throat, and I clawed my way to the back of the vehicle. I gagged on exhaust as it began to move, but I pulled myself out before it could pull away. I ran as best I could, wanting only to get away. Another soldier materialized in front of me. I tried to avoid him. I fell.

Dazed, I simply lay in pain for a moment. When I did manage to pull myself up, I saw the pony in front of me. I gasped. His horn glowed a deep red, unlike the laser magic. Behind me I heard a scream, and I turned. One of the vehicles was surrounded by the same red glow. The spell finished, and the glow exploded into light. When my sight cleared again, I saw the vehicle in the air, falling upward toward the sky.

I pulled myself around to face the pony who had done it. It was Boss; but not Boss. It was his magic, and the same scowling face, but his coat was white, his body whole and strong. He looked just like every other NC solder I had seen so far, but some part of me was certain. He looked at me, his eyes watery specters of their former selves, and I knew. This was Boss. Somehow he was alive again.

So I killed him.

I drove my horn into his neck, pulled out, stabbed again. He fell, and I stomped his throat to be sure. Behind me the vehicle hit the ground, breaking and exploding into a thousand pieces. Shards of metal and flame patterned into the ground around me. The sound of engines faded; then grew louder.

Boss's corpse erupted into green flame. A moment later it was gone.

What manner... magic...?

I wondered the same thing. The engines began to roar. I looked around me and saw the remainder of the convoy racing toward the river. They smashed into the NCs battle lines. Soldiers put up shields, but they shattered under the impact. Ponies were crushed and tossed aside like ragdolls as the vehicles carved their way forward. One wagon faced too much resistance from the shields and bodies and slid to a stop. Steel Rangers burst forward and continued the assault. The troops of New Canterlot scrambled to reform, and they encircled them, taking heavy losses but paying back the same. I noticed more bodies erupting into green flame.

The second vehicle made it across the riverbed before giving out. There were far fewer NCs there at this point, and they fell quickly to their armored assailants. Gleaming and Lute, at the top of their hill, were all who remained. Several soldiers who were firing on the first vehicle turned to support them, but the Steel Rangers focused them down, forcing them to take cover.

Five Steel Rangers from the second vehicle approached Gleaming, concentrating their fire. His shields held, but Lute could not return fire. They began to flank the prince. He matched their movement with another pair of shields. An explosive went off in the air above him, and all at once the battle stopped.

When the smoke cleared, Gleaming Armor lay on the ground, unconscious. Lute stood over him, shaking and bloody. Her horn crackled with power.

All this time, I had made my way along the outskirts of the battle, hobbling close to the ground. My attention had darted between the battle and looking for any sign of Surprise or the slavers. I had been unable to find them. If I could free them, they would be grateful. They would feed me. I could escape now, sure, but I would starve all the same. I need something soon. I could feel something dying inside me. I did not have much time.

Now, I was positioned at the bottom of the hill, just within earshot of the Steel Rangers and Lute. One of the Rangers spoke.

“Soldier of New Canterlot, surrender yourself and be spared! Paladin Rock Crusher will offer you and your troops this mercy only once.”

“Never!” spat Lute. “We won’t submit to fucking mud ponies.”

“You bitch... you're surrounded! This battle is over! Get away from him or you'll both die.”

“You are right,” said a voice from nowhere. “This battle is over.” All at once, figures materialized beside the Steel Rangers, shimmering into existence as the cloaks that had kept them invisible were turned off. The voice had been Aegis, and she stood in front of Gleaming, the hood of her usual cloak flung back to reveal a striped face. She clasped a golden sword in her teeth. Before any of the Rangers could react, she drove it through the neck of the nearest one; his armor did nothing to stop it. Her fellow zebra--for surely these were zebra--followed suit, and without so much as a whimper the Steel Rangers fell, blood pouring from their necks into the hill’s thirsty earth.

Behind me, the battle resumed, though now calls for retreat sounded the loudest. I pressed myself into the muddy ground, staying out of sight as the zebra turned to fight the Steel Rangers and reinforce New Canterlot’s forces. I watched them stream toward the remaining vehicle, darting silently across the riverbed, leaving only the faintest hoofprints on the mud below them. Lute remained with Gleaming, looking forlorn and hurt. A thought came to me, and I disguised myself as Goldstone. I trotted up to her, forcing my ailing body to cooperate. Darkness began to cloud my peripherals.

Feed...

I just needed to hold on a bit longer.

“Sir,” I said. “Shall we take him to the medic?”

“N-no, Golstone, we shouldn’t move him. With him out of it though they won't function long... I need... I need to direct the troops.” Her demeanor seemed different; broken somehow. Though it could just have been the sight of her injuries. Her face was bruising, and blood dripped from her nose and ears. Her words were shaky and congested. “Watch over him for me?”

“Yes, Sir, I replied. Her gratitude was small, but genuine. I drank it quickly as she dashed away toward the battle. I inched back from the brink.

I stepped away from Gleaming and looked around the area. It took me a moment, but then I spotted what I was looking for. Changing my disguise to that of the Steel Rangers medic, I galloped down the hill, back to the sight of our camp the night before. Shortcake was there, gagged and tied to an old tree stump. She was unconscious. I freed her, and took off the cloth that had been tied around her eyes, and prodded her awake.

“Grapeshot? What the hell are you doing here?” Her relief and hope flooded into me. I was so overwhelmed I could not respond for a moment.

“I... there’s no time to explain. We have to go, now.”

“What, why? Are you saying we lost?” Her emotions lessened. I cursed under my breath. “How are you here?”

“Battlelines shifted. We gotta go now, though. You have to tell Paladin Rock Crusher what happened.” I took off, planning to skirt around the battle and cross the river farther upstream. I wanted to remain within sight of it, though. I still wanted to find Surprise.

“I... holy shit, Grapeshot. We couldn’t even touch him. Fuck... I only survived because they let me...” She panted as she spoke. All her good feelings were gone now. “And... holy shit... it’s coming back to me. They knocked me out, but before that there was this... weird fucking bug pony, and he―” She halted abruptly. I looked back at her. Her eyes were wide, and she looked was tensed for action.

“Grapeshot,” she asked, “what’s your mom’s name?” I scowled. I didn’t have time for this. I undisguised. “You fucker.”

She tackled me, and I rolled with it. We grappled with each other on the ground. She got on top of me, but I managed to sink my fangs into her leg. She yelped, and tried to stomp my head. I squirmed aside, and tried to pull myself out of her range, but I was so weak. I could not keep her off me. I bit back, and tried to stab her with my horn, but I could not hit anything vital. She kept kicking at me, trying to smash my head. I shielded myself with my forehooves; pain arcked through them. I cried out in desperation and frustration.

...feed...

I tried to shove her off me. I was too weak.

Feed!

She slammed her head into my jaw, and I tasted blood. My head swam.

You cannot die! You must feed―feed for us!

I wanted to; I had wanted to do nothing else since my inception.

Feed my worker! Live and feed!

My resistance was broken. Her hoof came down to smash my skull, and with my last scrap of energy I jerked my head forward. I bit down on her leg and twisted as she slammed it into my mouth. I felt my teeth and fangs plunge into her flesh. I felt them crack, chip, and break under the force of her blow. My head hit the ground, and I bit down harder, my pain deafening my to her scream. She yanked her hoof out, taking my fangs with it. I rolled out from under her, my vision blurry and black with spots. I bucked, and she cried out again. I fell, stumbled to my feet.

My mouth was on fire, and the fire was make of needles. A river of blood poured forth. I felt my magic trigger and energy leave me as the green slime hardened, then slogged off. I spit it out. More blood. I was so weak all I could heal were some teeth and a single fang. I managed to focus on Shortcake. She was picking herself up off the ground, her pink and purple coat stained red and green. She was covered in more cuts than I remembered giving her, and she could not put any weight on her impaled forehoof. I opened my mouth to finish the job.

...feed...

I hesitated. I felt happiness come from behind me. I turned around.

“Worker!” I almost burst into tears. It was Surprise, galloping away from the dwindling battle. Her armor was dented and bloody, but she looked none the worse for ware. Her burst of happiness was over too quickly though. The moment she reached me her guns were trained on Shortcake. “I was looking everywhere for you. We have to go now, before the NCs see us.”

“Wait, you’re not with them?” Shortcake asked. She had pulled herself to her feet, but looked ready to fall back down at any moment. My fangs were still embedded in her leg.

“No. They captured me,” I said.

“I... I didn’t know.” She sounded like she was trying to apologize. I just gave her a dirty look.

“Let’s go,” I told Surprise. “Did Rolling follow us?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. Giving Shortcake a final look-over, Surprise turned away and began a fast trot to the west. I followed her,looking back only once. In the distance the smoking wreckage of the crashed vehicle drifted into the clouds, making the sky seem somewhat lighter than usual. Shortcake was gone, already on her own road to survival. I did not pity her, but some part of me wondered if she would be running with us had things gone just a little differently. Possibilities did not matter though. Only the now. And now I was galloping to freedom.

* * * * *

We did not make it far before I had to slow down. I had taken a healing potion, so my wounds were healed and my pain was gone, but it could not stop exhaustion.

“Worker? What’s wrong? We have to keep moving.”

“I can’t. I’m too hungry,” I told Surprise between pants. I had been too hopeful; already my energy was gone. I had nothing left. “I need love... happiness... something...”

“Uh... well shit, where do you normally get those from?” Surprise asked.

“Ponies. We get love from ponies. They were the best at it.” I gave her a pleading look. Mistake. She balked, and stomped away from me. I scrambled after her.

“Wait! That’s not what I meant.”

“Fuck you. That’s not funny.”

“I didn’t mean physical love―I mean the emotion. Love, happiness, even just gratitude! I just need you to feel something like that. It doesn’t have to be directed at me either, just feel anything good at all... I can pick it up. Please.” She stopped, and looked back at me.

“I’m not really in a mood to feel anything good,” she grumbled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” I said. “Please, just think of something happy. Anything. If you don’t, I’ll die... please...” I was on the edge again. Darkness crept in. I could barely stand.

Surprise was silent for a moment.

“Fine. But... give me a second... I’ll think of something.”

Seconds stretched into minutes.

“If it helps... you can talk to me. I don’t care what it is. As long as you feel... happy.” I couldn’t stand. I lowered myself to the ground, to rest... another minute passed.

“Actually...” Surprise began. “There’s a story my dad used to tell me about the day I was born. In our town, before the attack, he owned a store. Made a living trading. He told me he met my mom there, when she was passing through. Anyway, it was almost a year after that when I was born.” I saw her smile slightly as she remembered. “Dad, he was always fretting over me when I was little, and apparently he was no different with mom. Ponies would complain because some bad thought would get into his head and then he’d get so worried he would close the shop and rush home to make sure mom was okay. She always was. I’m pretty sure he was losing money in those last few days, with how worried he got, heh. Then mom finally went into labor, so he bolted down to the doc’s place and got there just as I was coming out.’” Surprise chuckled to herself. “Dad and the doc were shocked stupid when they saw what I was, so mom had to ask them about five times whether I was a boy or girl before they responded. ‘Well, which is it?’ she demanded, and the doc, well the first thing he does is hold me up and say ‘It's a surprise! I mean, pegasus...’ Heh. Mom screamed for a good while in shock, but dad just ended up on the ground laughing. Out of everything that had worried him, this hadn’t occurred to him. Anyway, that’s where I got my name from: the doc saying Surprise.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Happiness and a few whiffs of love had settled around her as she talked. I let the silence after her story last, not wanting to disrupt the flow of feeling. I felt better than I had in days. Not powerful or strong, but I was no longer starving.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Mmhm,” she shrugged. “That story always made dad smile. Not much else good happened after I was born.”

“We should go.”

“Yes.”

* * * * *

“Where are we going?” I asked some time later. We had continued east, leaning slightly to the north. The southern mountain range followed us, bearing down and pushing us close to the sea. I was catching whiffs of salt in the breeze now.

“Tubers,” she replied. “It’s right at the end of the Fields, beneath the mountains. Then we’ll see if any caravans are heading out and where they’re going.”

“Why a caravan?” I asked.

“Raiders. The Fields doesn’t have many compared to what’s in the wider wasteland. That’s why I liked this place. You could travel alone, mostly.”

“Okay...” That sounded good. There would be a chance to find love in a large group. “What about New Canterlot?” I asked.

“What about them?”

“I mean, they won. They’ll be coming to Tubers next probably. I don’t think anything can stop them.” Surprise laughed.

“Nah, those pushovers won’t last. The Rangers alone have more than enough ponies to wear them down, even if they get outfought one on one. The NCs already lost half their troops, and that zebra trick won’t win them a war.”

I disagreed with that sentiment. I told her about what I had seen during the battle; about Boss and the green fire. About what Holster had said, and who Aegis was.

“Necromancy? That’s why they teamed up with the zebra?”

“Yeah.” It made sense to me at least.

“Well shit... I still don’t think that’ll win them the war, though.” She grinned at me. “Especially if we go and tell the Rangers about it. That’ll fuck ‘em over.”

I nodded. That was a good idea. Anything that might help stop New Canterlot and destroy Gleaming. “What about Rolling? Did he follow us?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t able to talk to him before we left. He must have seen us go, though. That fucking prince made a big show of it.” I frowned. I didn’t want to leave without him.

“We can wait a bit at Tubers, I’m sure. He’s wouldn’t be more than a day beh―”

―what does it matter that they dabble in death magic? There will be no taboos in Our perfect world. They are unicorns. Powerful. They will make a great addition to Unity. We―

A voice. Voices. A chorus in my head. I could not stop it. It was everywhere. I screamed.

―is that? How are you here? WHAT ARE YOU? HOW DO YOU HEAR US?―

“I don’t know! Stop, get out! Get out!” I lay on the ground, clutching my head. The chorus was overwhelming.

...feed...

“Worker? What the hell is wrong!?”

―thing is not us yet it is in Our mind. Where is it? Do you see it? I see it, Goddess. What is it? I do not know Goddess. Find out. Yes―

...focus... focus on me...

In front of me a figure appeared. Radiant. Taller than any I had seen. Blue and shimmering, it had both wings and a horn. Awe and fear cleared my mind for just a moment. This was an alicorn. I was hearing its thoughts.

“Holy fuck.”

...it is... abomination...

No. I was not just hearing it. I was slipping into its mind.

―ngling? THEY STILL LIVE? YOU DARE DEFILE UNITY WITH YOUR PRESENCE YOU BUG!?

“Kill....it...” I managed to say. I felt myself slip.

―NO. Get out. OUT―

I tried. All at once, a new dimension had opened up to me. I felt myself move, yet my body was still. Before me was a void, endless; full of countless minds and thoughts and emotions. Even as panic gripped me I drank from it, unable to help myself. The minds whirled together, merging, dividing, all singing in a chaotic chorus, yet all subsumed by a greater mind. I felt it behind all the other voices: the Goddess. She pull at me like gravity, and I felt myself falling, slipping from my own body to the sea below. She seemed just as fearful of it happening as I was.

LEAVE, BUG!

I wanted to, but I could not stop my fall. I could not stop drinking from this cacophony of unchecked emotion. The power fed me, yet the more I drank the farther in I fell. Memories blurred. My life. Trixie’s. Twilight’s. It was all the same. We would be one. The power was overwhelming...

...FOCUS...

Above me, we became aware of another mind. A familiar mind. We pulled away from ourselves to see it. I forced my attention to it, and the Goddess’s pull lessened. I stopped drinking. This third mind was calm. Structured. There were mental walls to prevent the chaos I saw below me. The familiar mind pulled me back, but it did not threaten to destroy me. It had been built to control and guide, not consume. I used it as an anchor, and I came back into myself. The chaos before me fell away...

I saw the alicorn in front of me, shielding herself from Surprise’s attack. I still heard the chorus of voices calling for my death, but they were at a distance. The third mind above kept me out. It touched me, caressed me, and all at once I remembered who it was.

“My Queen...” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I am so sorry, I could not hear you before...”

There there, my child. It is all well. You hear me now.

Suddenly I understood so much.

Chrysalis. My Queen. I knew her mind. It had been with me all this time, yet only now had her words really reached me. Whatever psychic channel that had been closed was now open, its blockage broken by the abomination’s unwieldy mental tempest.

The abomination was Unity. Like our hive, they had a queen, but there was no order to their hivemind. It was a dominant will endlessly consuming and rejecting the detached minds of others. There was no hierarchy. No room for independent action. It was an ugly, incomplete construct. The work of a panicked child.

HOW DARE YOU? You are little more than a disease from the old world. We are the face of the new world. Unity is the future!

Surprise was knocked off her feet by a blast of energy. The Goddess’s puppet turned to me. I ready myself to fight the alicorn, to save my friend.

No, my child. There is no time for that. We must feed. You must free me. We must feed.

But Surprise―

NO.

I felt my Queen grasp my mind in hers. I felt fear. Her grip tightened, and a haze settled over me. I felt nothing. I knew what I must do.

I leaped away, and flew toward the clouds, ignoring the alicorn, that crippled pegasus, and Unity’s fading cries.

Feed!

Yes my Queen, I am coming.

Soon we will feed.

* * * * *

The alicorn pursued me. I felt the Goddess’s whisper of rage on the edge of my mind. I still could not shut off her thoughts, nor prevent her from sensing mine. But it did not matter. All that mattered was rescuing my Queen.

I knew where she was. She called to me from the clouds. I flew up, up... higher and higher. Finally, I broke through. The sky blinded me with its brightness. The white below me, the blue above. Infinite in all directions. I could not stop to be awed. I continued on, running now on the cloud tops. I was in a field of some sort, with small wheat stalks suspended in the ethereal ground. I trampled through them. They did not matter.

Nothing but my Queen mattered.

* * * * *

There it was. The facility. My Queen’s prison. A lonely outpost on the clouds’ outskirts.

I remembered this place. This is where we had been taken. After years of wandering the wastes below, we had been captured. Studied. Tortured. Starved; killed; raped―we would kill them! I WOULD KILL ALL OF THEM!

KILL!

A guard sat on a watchtower. I remembered. The Queen knew his patterns. I broke his back and jaw before he could sound the alarm. I dumped him out of sight and punctured his stomach with my horn. He would expire in about ten minutes.

There was not much to this facility. A guard tower. A fence. A yard with empty tables. A front door. High walls with no windows.

The sky was unbelievably blue and vast. I could gaze into it forever and lose myself.

I flew over the fence and tried the door. It was locked. I disguised as the dying guard and knocked. A pony in a lab coat opened the door with a questioning look on his face. I told him I was thirsty. He stepped aside. I stepped in.

“Wait, Buzz, where’s your uniform?”

This was a reception area. There was a vending machine, a desk, and a secure door at the other end. I bucked the pony in the face. He collapsed. Again, I crippled him. My Queen told me where to bite his spine, how to crush his jaw. I took his clothes this time, then hid his body under the desk.

...I ...kill you...

The abomination pursued. It did not matter. I would kill that alicorn if I she tried to stop me.

I opened the door. This was a leisure room. Three pegasi sat, unarmored, playing cards at a table. Another two, clad in black steel, talked with their helmets off. There were doors on each wall.

“...done about all we can; I tell you we should kill her and be done with it. There's nothing more we can learn.”

Hurry, my child, hurry!

I walked past the three playing cards, up to the two guards. They gave me an odd look.

“You need something, Sir?”

Save me. Kill them!

“Yes,” I said. “I think I may have a cracked tooth, can you take a look at it?” I opened my mouth and pointed.

“Uh...” The nearest guard leaned in instinctively. I undisguised and bit down. My fangs went through her eyes, into her brain. Her companion screamed. I leaped back, into the air, and dived down onto the three unarmored ponies before they could grasp what was occurring. I stabbed one in the neck with my horn. The other two fought back, but they were panicked. I took a kick to the side, and bit down on one of their necks. I ripped out his throat.

Behind me, the other guard had recovered and donned her helmet. She swiped at me with her scorpion-like tail, and I jumped back. The other pony tried to tackle me. I disguised as a foal, and she missed, crashing into the ground. Before the guard could do anything I had driven my fangs into her neck. She would not die immediately, but nothing could save her now.

The pegasus moved to lash at me with her tail again, and I allowed myself a smile. I didn't try to dodge. I reared up as I triggered my magic, feeling my body bloom into Sev's form. I caught her tail in my claws, and turned on my back foot. Using her inertia against her, I swung her off her feet and into the wall. She flapped her wings to recover, but I still had her tail. I tugged her toward me. She bucked my chest. I gasped in pain and felt my grip loosen, but I did not let her get away. I grabbed her legs as she tried to move them back. With all my might I swung her toward the wall again. I turned as she cracked against the steel, releasing her, but only so I could slam my body into her. I heard a muffled curse beneath that helmet as she struck the wall for a third time. I didn't let her recover. With my right hand I grabbed her neck, and with my left I held her forehoof. I dragged her down, pinning her on her back underneath me. I slammed my beak into her suit's eye. I screamed in pain, but a shattered beak was worth a breach in her armor. I saw her looking up at me, a single pink pupil shrunk to an island in a white sea.

"I’m sorry—Don't kill me! Oh Celestia please! Please don't kill me!"

She said something. I heard her sob. I raised my arm and struck it down. The shriek that followed erupted into a horrible cry of agony as I drove my claw deeper. It took only a few seconds of force, and her thrashing only helped.

"No Celestia please I can feel that OH PLEASE—I FEEL IT DON'T I CAN FEEL IT PLEASE—"

I had burrowed down an inch or so above my wrist when her begging stopped. My breathing slowed in the silence.

I pulled my claw back out with a wet pop, and wiped the gore on my feathers. I undisguised, and the pain in my beak vanished. I turned away from the mare's broken faceplate. There was only red now.

I kept on toward my Queen.

New Perk: Telepathy (Level 1) - You are more receptive to the emotions of others, even those you cannot feed from.
Quest Perk: The Voice of Unity - You have peered into the mind of the Goddess and survived her call, an impressive feat. +10% resistance to Taint.
Quest Perk: Total Recall - Your Queen’s calls have finally reached you, and why should you resist her will? You receive +2 Strength, -2 Perception, +3 Endurance, -3 Charisma, -3 Intelligence, +2 Agility, and -5 Luck modifiers while under Chrysalis's sway (Note: SPECIAL stats cannot be reduced below zero or raised above 10).

Chapter 11: Freedom

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 12: Easy Come, Easy Go

Author's Note

Hey guys, I'm back. Also I wrote a book. Like an actual real book. See the Author's Note at the end of the next chapter for more info.

Also read the Author's Note on the next chapter if you want more info on the future of this story.

Chapter 12: Easy Come, Easy Go

“Earth does break the things that we make.”

Living was not easy.

The first day I found nothing. I wandered amongst the rubble of the city until I heard the far-off roar of Fugax’s tank. I flew up and away, over the lake. I slept alone, in one of the more stable-looking buildings that protruded from the water. I slept fitfully, haunted by a bright light in a dark alley. On the second day I woke to another rainstorm. I tried to wait it out, but the clouds refused to close. I flew south, blinking water from my eyes until I finally emerged from the downpour. That night I collapsed beneath the wiry arms of a dead tree, dusty and exhausted. On the third day, morning light revealed the bodies of some raiders on the opposite side of my bed, wiggling in the wind like overripe fruit. I found nothing valuable on the bodies.

Continuing south, I came upon a trail of fresh hoofprints. I followed them over brown hills until they disappeared into a stagnant stream. I wandered through the water until the trail reemerged. The movement of the pony (or ponies) was now writ in dark mud; I hovered upwards to see if I could find them. I was in luck. I saw a wagon, just over the next bend. I flew closer, then dropped back onto the trail they had made. Two ponies pulled the wagon, while a dirty cream unicorn with a crosshair as a Cutie Mark sat on its roof, a rifle slung over his shoulder. I came upon them briskly, smiling but with my gun loose in its holster; I was disguised as Surprise.

“Hello!” I called out to them, donning my brightest smile. The stallion on top whipped around at the sound of my voice. I felt the fear in him, and before he could crack off his first shot I was dodging it. He took time to aim the second shot, but I kept my distance and managed to avoid it. “Stop!” I shouted. “I don’t want to fight.” No third bullet came.

“Who the ‘ell are you?” He kept me in his sights, the rifle gripped steadily in his magic. By now his companions had taken up positions on either side of him. One was an orange-spotted yellow mare, the other a rose and lime stallion.

“I don’t want to fight,” I repeated. “I’m looking... I’m lost.”

There was a pause. I felt a faint unease waft from his mind. Suddenly, the mare said, “You’re from the Enclave. What are you doing here?”

“I’m lost,” I repeated, taking a step forward. “Do you know the way to Tubers?” It was where Surprise and I had been heading before I had abandoned her.

“Hold up!” The unicorn stabbed his gun at me. “Answer the question, pegasus,” he growled.

“I... I’m not the Enclave.” I wracked my brain, but I knew almost nothing about the Enclave. “I’m trying to get to Tubers.”

“You’re a pegasus in Enclave armor, you expect me to believe that shit?” I felt a tension from all three of them. I got ready to flee.

“I’m not Enclave. I killed one of the Enclave, and took their armor.” That gave them pause; the unicorn’s rifle dipped low for a moment.

“You a deserter?”

I did not know what that word meant, but the way he said was almost hopeful. If he wanted me to be a deserter, I would give him what he wanted. “Yes. I am,” I said. It was the right answer: he gave a short nod, and jumped off the wagon. His gun was still on me, but I could tell he was beginning to relax. I just needed to make him trust me.

“Why?” he asked.

Why? “Well, they tried to kill my Que—” I coughed to stop myself. “They tried to kill my mother. So I killed them. We had to run away from the Enclave.”

“And where is your mother now?”

“She—Tubers. She’s in Tubers. We were headed there together, but we got separated when more of the Enclave came after us.” I swallowed, and took another step forward, putting on a sad, scared face, the same one Surprise had worn when I first met her. “Please, do you know how to get there? Am I going the right way?” That got to him. He swung the rifle onto his back, and closed the gap between us.

“Yeah, missy, this is the right direction. But you still got a helluva ways to go.”

* * * * *

The stallion’s name was White Wind, and his companions were Tango Seed (the mare) and Golden Grime (the other stallion).

“Grime and I are from around Manehatten, originally. We ran into Tango near New Appleloosa, and we tried to make a living there, but life never seemed to give us anything good. Raiders kept coming back, even if you scoured their dens, an’ Red Eye and his slave trade are stretching their limbs father outside of Fillydelphia each day. Losing Stock and Core was the final nail in th’ coffin. So we headed south, to the Fields. Heard it was quieter, emptier... not easier, mind you, but maybe just a bit more peaceful.”

“Is it?” I asked. We were pulling the wagon together, as we had been since my arrival. Grime and Tango did not trust me enough to let me out of their sights, and they were tired from pulling the wagon besides. The Fields were all I knew. If they were supposed to be peaceful, then I dreaded discovering more of the greater Wasteland.

“Well, I’ll let you know when we get there.” He chuckled. “The journey hasn’t been, I can tell you that.”

“Still better than Appleloosa,” Grime murmured.

“That’s only ‘cuz you didn’t like apples, GeeGee,” Tango chidded, bumping him bodily.

“And that’s ‘cuz there was nothin’ to eat but apples, apple pies, and applesauce! A pony needs variety! I get sick now, just from the smell of ‘em.” He made a gagging noise. “I don’t care if the Fields got more or less raiders so long as they got more than one type of food.”

Tango laughed, but White Wind ignored their banter. He told me about their life, their fights with raiders, the friends they had lost. I kept him talking all through the day, asking all the questions that came to my mind and feeding him a story or two of my own when he prompted me. Luckily, these ponies seemed to know as much about the Enclave as I did, so none of the details I provided were questioned. By the end of the day, Tango had warmed up to me, and with her came Golden Grime.

We made camp as the sun sank beneath the horizon. They chose a patch in the road between two hills, and started a small cook fire. There was a dinner of dried flowers and some unknown meat, but it did nothing to slow the rise of my true hunger.

White had first watch, and so he trotted off to a higher vantage point as Tango extinguished the fire. It was too risky to keep it going through the night, she explained. Fortunately they had blankets, and as I curled up in mine I saw that she and Grime had another way of keeping warm. I felt a stirring of emotion as they curled up together, but they were soon asleep, so my second meal was short and unfilling. I smiled, however: now I knew how to get love out of this group.

The next day we traveled mostly in silence. The hills were constant, but dwindling, as were the grasses and shrubs that dotted their slopes. I asked about the change once, but they only shrugged.

Shortly after lunch, we crested a hill and found a sprawling settlement. Tents and the ashes of fires spread out before us. They encircled a flat wagon that looked more like a theater stage at a distance. A horde of ponies milled about the encampment: a moving rainbow of dirty hair and ragged clothing. The smell of manure permeated the air, growing stronger as we crept closer.

“What the hell’s all this?” Grime asked.

“I ain’t got a clue,” White replied. “They don’t look like raiders, though. Hell, I barely see any weapons.”

When we drew close enough to the vagabond camp, a gaggle of ponies stepped out to greet us. At their head was a familiar face: it was the pony who had been preaching in Maize. He still had a pair of broken glasses over dark purple eyes, as well as a pepped grey mane with a steely black coat. His Cutie Mark was an empty, six-pointed halo. A chill ran down my spine when I recognized him. If Unity were here...

“My friends, welcome!” The preacher greeted us with a broad smile. “What brings you down this road?”

“Tubers,” White explained cautiously. “We’re headed for the Fields.”

“Well, if that is true then you are fortunately close. Tubers is a mere day from this spot. But why would you want to go to such a place? It is no haven. There is a war there.”

White frowned at that. “War? We heard it was quieter down there...”

“Oh, the dead are awful quiet, yes,” the preacher said, “but that is not the quiet you seek, I hope? No, I thought not. Trust me, my friend, you will not find peace in the Fields. It is no better than the rest of this Wasteland. That is why we are leaving.”

My new companions exchanged a look. “Leaving for where?” Grime asked from atop our wagon. He and Tango had their guns out, but they were not raised.

“Unity!” the preacher declared. It was the answer I had expected. What the Abomination wanted with a horde of ponies I could not guess, but the longer I let this preacher speak the more likely I was to lose my new allies. And the longer we stayed here the more likely one of Unity’s vessels was to show up and detect me. I could not afford another encounter with them, especially not amongst their followers.

“We need to find my mother,” I asserted. “She’s in Tubers. If you’re right about the war, we need to get there as soon as possible.”

The preacher’s smile dipped at my outburst. “My friend, I am sorry to say, but Tubers is the last place you will wish to be. Most of my congregation is made up of ponies who have fled from that city—and all fled from the Fields. We have no pegasi among us, unfortunately, but if your mother is smart she will soon enough flee as well. The war is coming to that city, in a way it never came to the others. This will be no minor skirmish, believe me. It will be true war. Tubers will melt.”

“Hold on,” White interjected, “what war? D’you mean the Zebra are back?”

“No, not the Zebra. It is ponies fighting ponies, yet it is war all the same. A Stable opened and out poured an unholy brood of unicorns calling themselves ‘New Canterlot.’ They claim dominion of the Fields by right of faux-royal blood, and intend to conquer Equestria as well.”

“They say they are the rock around which Equestria will rise,” one of the preacher’s followers said.

“Pah! What blasphemy they spew!” the preacher spat. “This ‘New Canterlot'i s the the sixth such cult our Goddess has seen try and reestablish our capital; it is as uncreatively named as all the others, and just as weak. Only the Goddess can save Equestria now. I have seen her power, my friends. Unity is the only redemption this world has left to it. Join us, and I will show you.”

“But what about Tubers,” I pressed. I did not want to talk about the abomination, or hear more of his religious ravings. “Why will the war destroy it?”

“Even as we speak, a legion of Steel Ranger marches to reinforce their brothers,” the preacher stated. “I spoke with their leader, and told him what I knew of these new blasphemers. The two armies will clash at the city, I have no doubt, and it will be razed to the ground in the crossfire. The unicorns’ powers grow, day by day, but even at their peak they do not have the numbers to overcome all the factions of the Wasteland, let alone the Steel Rangers. They are but children, barely able to walk in this strange world, whereas the Steel Rangers have dominated these lands since they were first scorched. They will crack the rock, and the resulting avalanche will crush any who are nearby. I say again: do not go that way.”

“But I have to,” I said, giving White a panicked look. “I need to find my mother.” I need to apologize to Surprise. I need to build my hive. I need to help my friends.

* * * * *

In the end, my companions were not converted. Tango was interested in the preacher's words at first, but White and Grime were not so easily persuaded, thanks in small part to my staunch instance we reach Tubers. White was dismayed by the prospect of a war in the Fields, but I pointed out that we had no reason to believe all of what the preacher said, especially since he seemed more interested in gathering new converts than anything else.

“We can always double back if there’s nothing down there for us,” Tango added. “A big group like this moves slow.” And with that the matter was settled.

We made camp farther down the road, at the top of a hill. We did not make any fire that night, so long after Tango and Grime had fallen asleep in each others hooves I was left shivering and hungry under the infinite black sky. My armor might have kept me warm, but it was uncomfortable to sleep in and I had taken it off. When I could stand the pains no longer, I threw off my ragged blanket and trotted over to where White Wind was keeping watch. I stopped by his side, and he gave me a concerned look that I could barely see.

“What’s wrong, missy?” he asked.

“I can’t sleep, I’m too...” Hungry was what I thought, but what I said was, “...scared. I just can’t stop thinking about what that preacher said. What if he’s right? What if mom gets caught in a battle?” I sniffled.

“Don’t worry...” He turned toward me. “We don’t even know if he’s telling the truth, like you said.”

“Oh Celestia, what if she dies?” I went on. “We barely managed to escape the Enclave. I... I don’t know what I would do without her. Oh—” I faked a sob and shivered.

“Uh, hey...” He put a cautious hoof on my shoulder. “Hey, listen, she ain’t gonna die. She’s got wings, right? She can get to safety faster than anypony else, and it’s hard as hell to hit a flying target, even fer me.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, I swear it. And in a battle, nopony’s gunna be gunning for those who run away anyway. Especially if they ain’t on either side.”

“Okay... yeah...” I gave another sniffle. His hoof was still on my shoulder, his head bent low to hear me better. I felt emotions simmering within him: a confusion, a hope, a hurt. He wanted to comfort me, that much was certain. And I wanted to feed. “I’m so cold down here.” I shivered again, looking up at him.

“Missy—”

I moved forward, and we were kissing.

His emotions unified then, and I drank deep from his passion. It was not a pure love, but it was hot and powerful. I urged him on, with my mouth and body, and he was all too happy to oblige. My hunger was gone, but I was not yet full, and I did not know when I might next get a chance to feed. I had never gone beyond a kiss, but any reservations I had were swept aside as the current of his emotions strengthened. He took over, moving us to pursue his pleasure while I let go of myself to focus on feeding. I would not be overwhelmed this time. I would not do to him what I had done to Garlic.

We gasped and shuddered for very different reasons, but in the end we lay on the ground together, spent and happy. I had fed, and I was very full.

See, Fugax? See, Chrysalis? It can be done. We can live here. I will not go back. I will not be consumed. I will survive.

The next morning I woke refreshed. All the small aches and anxieties that had built within me were gone. I felt strong and whole, and full of hope. White Wind seemed very much the same, smiling and exuding a constant stream of happiness. That day, as we traveled, we stuck close to each other, talking when we had to pull the wagon and huddling together when we stood watch on top. All the time I fed, growing stronger and stronger. Had I not been in such a hurry I would have considered keeping him. He was pleasant, and never did I sense any cruelty in him, even when we chanced upon a group of raiders and left them dead in the dust. That had been a short battle: the raiders had been hiding out in an abandoned barn, but several barrels of gas or oil had been strew around the property, and when the bullets started flying the field was quickly set ablaze. The barn burned and collapsed, and before the raiders’ screams had all died the embers were already cooling.

“What a shitty way to go,” White muttered.

“Aye,” agreed Grime.

* * * * *

I fed from White twice more that night, then left before dawn broke. I flew on through the darkness, full of energy. I felt a little bad for leaving them, but I did not want to be held back and risk losing Surprise’s trail. I needed to move fast.

I reached Tubers as the sun rose. The city was a ruin. Scorched earth surrounded the collapsed, melted mess that was all that remained of the factory-turned city. Pillars jutted up from the metal entrails like rocky bones stripped of muscle. I had not seen the smoke trails rising in the dimness of dawn, and by the time I was close enough to see what had become of the city light was pouring across the horizon, washing the land in an red-orange glow. A few twisted walls remained on the south corner, but even those were scorched and scarred.

I surveyed the area. I was not worried, not yet. Surprise was a cautious pony, and I was not certain she had come to Tubers in the first place. The southern mountain range rose high in the near distance, blocking out the glare of sunlight as I searched through the cooling rubble. A river trickled by to my right, snaking away toward the sea. I saw evidence of a dam and aqueduct further upstream, but no sign of activity. Bodies were strew about the facility: some Steel Rangers, some civilians, and plenty of blackened, cooked corpses poked out from the city's remains. The smell of them made my mouth water and my stomach churn, and I was still not sure which reaction I preferred. I searched through the bodies but took only a few knives and ammo for my shotgun.

There was no sign of Surprise, or of anything at all, really. There was not even evidence of a Plantation left, and there must have been one nearby at some point, I knew.

My mood grew as black as the smoke hanging above me. This was not the welcome I had hoped for.

I scouted the mountains next. It was a long trot upstream before the rocks started to rise, but my wings allowed me to sweep quickly from the east to north, following the turn of the land. I investigated any suspicious outcroppings, but found nothing until the sun had risen above the clouds. There was a small path up the mountain, decorated with rotten signs that I could no longer be read. I followed the trail, and found a cave at its end. I grew hopeful, but inside there was nothing but damp rock and a few boxes.

I cursed. Tubers was the only lead I had to go on, but I knew in my heart Surprise would not have stuck around after the battle. I did not want to lose her.

I broke open the boxes and found some dried fruit and two sacs of beets. I snacked on a few of them--I knew now that I needed food to heal and transform--as I pondered my next move. I decided to follow the Steel Ranger’s warpath. It was not difficult to find. New hoofprints and wagon tracks marched away from the remains of Tubers. I flew westward, deeper into the fields.

I found their convoy at midday. They had continued in a straight line, not following the land, and were now trodding along the northern coastline. The sea was dark, and a mist was rolling in from the direction of Baltimare. Dead bushes poked out from the sand dunes below me.

As soon as I saw the Rangers, they saw me. I shrieked as a flare exploded underneath me. The heat was not harmful, but the message was clear. I was in their sights. I began a slow descent as a pair of Steel Rangers trotted toward me.

“Stand down, Enclave.” Both of them had cannons on their backs. “What are you doing in this area?”

“I’m looking for my... sister,” I said. “She looks like me. Have you seen her?”

There was a pregnant pause. I sensed they were talking between themselves. The ranger who had first spoken responded. “We have the pony you’re looking for,” she said.

Relief, then apprehension, jolted through me. “Where is she?”

“Safe,” she answered. Another pause. “Surrender yourself to us. If you cooperate we will release you and your companion. You will be free to go, as long as you do not interfere further with the war here.”

“And... if I don't trust your word?”

“The I have orders to haul you back by force.” She sounded bored, like she was only half paying attention to the conversation she was apart of. “I do not harbor you or your... associate any ill will, but your appearance and participation in recent events is of interest to us, Changeling.” A chill flowed through me, and I tensed.

“How-?”

“You can’t possibly think we didn’t question your associate. Or that your actions in the past weeks have gone unnoticed, can you?”

I ground my teeth in silence.

“Before we bring you in, I wish to ask you a few questions. Do you understand?”

I felt blood rushing through my ears. I managed to nod.

“What is your name, Changeling?” she asked.

“Worker,” I spat.

“Is that name unique?”

“..what?”

“In your social-system is the name ’Worker’ unique? I am an Intelligence Officer, but that is not my name. Do you get a name beyond your role?”

“Worker is my name.”

“Hmm. Mine is Kernel. I believe you met my cousin, Cobb, shortly before you were abducted in Maize, am I correct?”

The memory sent a pang of rage and humiliation through me. I choked out an affirmation.

“Excellent. My guess was right. Now, come with us, Changeling. We will let you see your friend.” She turned and trotted back toward the convoy. I followed reluctantly, and her companion fell into step behind me. I grew more anxious as Kernel continued speaking.

“I will be frank, Changeling, you have done a poor job hiding your movements through these lands. Not that it was simple to piece together your trail after my brothers in arms first encountered you, but once we acquired a few key witnesses most of what you had done became incredibly obvious. To me, at least, but that could always be because this job is my specialty. I know how to get information from people.”

I wasn’t quite sure why she was telling me all this, but I suspected most of it was a lie.

“Do you admire Surprise?” She tilted her head back.

“What? Why would I?”

“You are looking for her and you wear her skin. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, you know.”

My cheeks burned as I dropped my disguise. I kept my head down and said nothing. The air was cooling quickly, and the mist had overtaken the convoy by the time we reached the back wagons. I felt the eyes of all the Rangers on me as Kernel led me through their midst. Suddenly we stopped, and her companion left without a word. I could see only a few feet in any direction. I felt like we were sitting in a cloud.

“Surprise will be here shortly,” Kernel stated. “But first, tell me about yourself.”

“What about me?”

“Tell me everything. Goals. Knowledge. Experiences. It is my job to collect information, so give me information.”

I hesitated. Pale darkness swallowed us.

“Talk, Changeling,” she said, still in that same disinterested tone. “Talk now and be truthful, or my duties will require the implementation of extortion, torture, and other such unpleasant coercions. I don't enjoy it.”

A faint green glow came from the sockets of her armored mask. Light danced in the air between us.

“Just talk, Worker.”

I started from the beginning.

* * * * *

Surprise greeted me with a scowl. “Worker.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to leave you.” I started to explain. We were in the middle of the convoy, the mist swirling around us, as Kernel and two other escorts watched over us.

“Stop,” Surprise said after a moment. “I don’t care, Worker. Why did you even come back?” She gave me a hard look. “I know how you work, you just use ponies. I don’t want to give you love.”

The words crashed into me, and I grasped for words. “I... I thought you were a friend...” My cheeks hurt. I had not expected this. Anger, sure, I had abandoned her after all, but not such an abrupt and utter rejection. I felt numb.

“A... friend?” Her voice had softened, but she was still doubtful. “I don’t believe that. We’re your prey, Worker; I’ve heard the stories. You eat us!”

“No! We don’t eat you.” I tasted the memory of blood and flesh. “We feed. Just your emotions. Just your feelings. We don’t eat you. It doesn’t hurt.” I felt tears start to roll down my cheeks. I had been more worried about her than I had admitted to myself. Her words cut deeper than I imagined they could have.

“Our records indicate otherwise,” Kernel put in. “Mind control, comas, imprisonment and starvation; not very pretty.”

I hissed in rage at the Intelligence Officer. “I don’t do that. I don’t need to. My Queen... Chrysalis wanted to trick ponies. She hated ponies. We hated them because she hated them.” I took a step closer to Surprise. She balked. “Please... I’ve seen how it ends. Hate doesn’t work. Deceit doesn’t work. I just want to live. I just want my friends.”

“Worker...” Surprise sighed. “I made up my mind. I didn’t think you were coming back. The Steel Rangers... I told them about the NCs. They offered me a job. They... they say they can heal me. I might be able to fly.” She gave me a sad look. It hurt less than her earlier anger, but I still could not help but cry. “You saved me once. Thank you. But I want this more than your...” She bit her lip. “...your friendship.”

I knew she did not mean to be so harsh, but I could not find a reason to disagree with her.

“I understand,” I mumbled.

* * * * *

“Well, that was exciting,” Kernel droned after Surprise had been taken away. I refused to dignify that with a response. “Don’t fret, we will let you go soon. I just have one more thing I want to check.” She said something into her helmet I could not hear, and then sat patiently as the mist thinned around us. I heard another pony trot up to us from behind. I turned my head and gasped.

“Tulip!?”

“You!” Tulip stopped in her tracks, eye twitching. “Why is it always you!?” She was clad in light armor that covered her neck and back, but offered little protection for her legs. Her face was smattered with warpaint.

I hissed at her.

“Yeah, fuck you too.” She turned to Kernel. “Why am I here? Do I get to kill him?” She cracked a smile as the possibility occurred to her.

“Nooo,” Kernel sang, in that constant, almost-bored tone, “I just needed to confirm he is the one you encountered. You are dismissed.”

Tulip gave a harsh grunt and stormed off while I fumed in silence. Kernel huffed in amusement, and moved to stand in front of me.

“I have no further questions, Changeling.”

“Does that mean I can leave?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Follow me. My commander is interested in meeting you.” As she spoke her companion rematerialized from the mist. I trudged along between them and kept my focus on the ground. It was only a short while before we found her commander.

The armor he wore was caked with grime and mud. A sawed off alicorn horn was soldered to his helmet, its top covered in dried blood, and a pair of brilliant blue wings were bolted to his sides. They drooped over the barrels of the biggest pair of guns I had seen so far. The turrets were so polished they almost glinted, even in this lighting. He stood alone near a makeshift table that had been set up at the head of the convoy, examining a map.

“Who are you?” I asked, awestruck.

“I am Star Paladin Rock Crusher,” he said, turning to me. His voice was deep and booming. “You are the Changeling. Officer Kernel has already sent me a briefing on the information you have given me; you claim to have encountered the alicorns before?”

“Y-yes,” I said, glancing at his grotesque trophies. “You met them too?:

“Indeed. One of the alicorns asked me to join their ‘Unity.’ ‘Become one of us’ it said.” He chuckled; it was a dark, wheezing noise. “I accepted, however, I believe we have differing opinions on how to ‘become’ one of them.”

I could only give a weak smile.

“My companions at the time did not appreciate the joke either. We lost a lot in that fight.” He nickered. “But that is neither here nor there. Unity, New Canterlot; we have common enemies, Changeling, and I could use someone with your abilities.”

I furrowed my brow. “You want... me to work for you?”

“I am offering you a job, yes. We could learn much from studying you.”

I thought of what the Pegasi had done to Chrysalis. “How can I trust you? How could you trust me?”

“We do not trust you. We would be friends at arm's length. You would only be regarded as a civilian, and we would keep an escort with you at all times, but you would be compensated and free to leave us at your leisure.”

I considered it. If he was being genuine, then it might mean security for me, and a chance to mend my relationship with Surprise. But Tulip would be here too, and I did not know if this group would survive their war with New Canterlot. Other Steel Rangers existed, I understood, but would they have the same reaction to me? And security was still no guarantee of love. No, I could not join them, not now anyway. I still had yet to find Rolling Stone. I had abandoned White Wind in favor of my friends, and the gamble was already half lost.

“I can’t,” I said. “Not now, anyway.”

“But you are interested?” The commander tilted his head.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Hmm, well, I suppose there is no harm in letting my offer stand. Be on your way then, and should you return do not try and deceive us. I am being amicable because I think we could benefit, but we understand what you are, Changeling.”

I nodded a grudging thanks and turned to leave. Kernel stopped me as I prepared to leap into the air.

“One last question has just come to me, Worker,” she began. ”You never mentioned what the purpose of collecting those crystals was. What was Chrysalis’s goal? What would their unification accomplish?”

I shrugged, anxious to take flight. “I don’t know,” I said. “They make up the Crystal Heart. Chrysalis knew what it did, but she never shared it with us. It’s magic.”

“Hmph, very well. I believe you. You may leave us.” She trotted off without another word.

I took off, leaving Surprise, Tulip, and all the Rangers in the mist below.

* * * * *

I passed over Bulbs at midday, from there it was easy to find my way back to Pitch’s research facility. I set down carefully next to the air duct entrance, and braced myself for the journey through. I had to shed my armor to fit into the air duct, so I stowed it on the rooftop, out of sight. I was able to control my panic this time, anchoring myself with the hope that Rolling might be here. I was almost calm by the time I reached the end of the duct, but then I noticed something: it was quiet. Not a hint of breath or the slightest shuffle came from the zombies that I knew where below me. I hurried to the end, and toppled onto the ground.

The laboratory was ransacked. Broken glass and shattered chalk strewn the floor. Chairs were pushed aside, and all the tables that were not built into the ground had been overturned. I gasped, and shoved open the door to Pitch’s sleeping quarters. They were empty. No sign of her memorabilia was left, not even a strip of poster paper. Pitch herself was similarly absent.

I opened the door to the lab, peering cautiously out into the hallways. It was empty. I saw that the eye-high barrier Pitch had built to keep out her zombified friends had been broken down in the middle. I made my way through the research base, calling out for Pitch and Rolling, swiveling my ears about to hear for the first hint of activity. Debris littered the halls, but it was only the sediment of time. There was little evidence the rest of the base had been raided; perhaps whoever had invaded had come through the vent, or else they had overcome the unthinking zombies with ease. Dark thoughts rose in my mind as I realized what must have happened here.

“Rolling!” I called again. “Professor!”

Finally, I got a response. I was at the back of the base, near an open doorway that lead to the tower. The voice came from above me.

“Who’s there?” I looked up, and saw a speaker placed next to an exploded turret.

“It’s me, Professor,” I called back. “It’s... it’s the Changeling.”

She had hidden herself in the tower’s ventilation system, in a small room that she had set up in case some explorer made it past her defenses. It had enough power to operate the speaker system and the few cameras that still worked. She looked somehow worse than before when she finally crawled out to meet me. Her hair was completely gone, and her eyes had sunk even farther back into her skull. She gave me a haunted look as she tried to tell me what had happened. She sputtered, unable to finish a sentence.

“Was it New Canterlot?” I asked.

“Y-yes! It must have been. They... they barged in—Oh, I barely made it to my alcove in time—I didn’t see what happened, but Rolling—they had him with them—I saw them interrogate him, but he—oh, it was too much—”

“Is he alive?” I demanded. My heart jumped into my throat. I knew why the NCs had come here, but I did not think they would have taken Rolling. Or that they might have even captured him before.

“Y-yes, I think so—”

“Think so?”

“They took him away after they destroyed my lab, I—I didn’t see much after that. The system only covers so much area... but, but they... I don’t understand. They lead them all away... Melon, Twinkle, Icarus... oh, they’re all gone for real now... Why did they—? I—I can’t—”

She would have been crying had her tear ducts still functioned. I grimaced, reluctantly putting a hoof on her decaying shoulder.

“They were already dead,” I told her. “Nothing has changed.”

“Oh, I know, you’re right, of course, but... but it still hurts... and I don’t understand... Changeling, what happened? What did you two do?”

“My name is Worker,” I told her. “And... well, it’s a long story, and I need to follow them. I need to go find Rolling. Which way did they go?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t see.”

“Then, where is New Canterlot?”

Another shake. I hissed in frustration, turning away from her.

“Why?” she mumbled. “What did you do?”

“We didn’t do anything,” I spat. “This isn’t our fault.” She balked from the venom in my voice. I knew she did not deserve it, but I was angry at myself. This was my fault, in part. I had told them about the lab. I had told them about Pitch. “The NCs are working with the zebra. They’re using Necromancy to make soldiers for their army.”

“Wh-what?”

“That’s why they took your friends. They’re retreating from the Steel Rangers. They need to replenish their ranks.” It was the only explanation that made sense. It explained why Gleaming Armor had been so excited when I had mentioned a ghoul during my trial.

“Oh... oh the horror.”

I looked back at her. She seemed to have calmed a bit, or at least contained herself. She was looking at her forehooves, tracing little circles on the ground before her. She breathed in deeply and sighed. The transformation was sudden, but I could see her panic had been expelled. I blinked. This was not a reaction I had been expecting.

“They came from the north,” she stated. “Beyond that, I don’t know. You obviously ran into them, are you sure there was nothing you discovered that might point to their location?”

I shrugged. I did not have the time to think about this now. I needed to go after Rolling. I could go back to the Steel Rangers and ask for directions, but they would not trust me enough to let me fly off in front of them and risk me alerting the NCs. I could simply accompany them, but that would take far too long, and my arrival would coincide with another battle. I let out another hiss through my teeth, wracking my brain for more options.

“Tell me what happened,” Pitch repeated. “Go through it with me.”

I frowned. I had told my story once already today. I knew how long it would take to tell it again, and this time I could not abridge so many events. I would have to tell her about Maize, our capture, our escape, meeting Surprise, returning to bulbs, another capture, meeting the mad Prince, the march to tubers, the battle, the rescue of Chrysalis, the search for crystals in Baltimare—

I paused, frowning at a recent memory. I reached back and looked through my things. I pulled out the Stable Evacuation Map I had found in Baltimare. I unfolded it in my magic. It was faded, but still visible. Baltimare Bay was a giant horseshoe, and as the coast curved southward I recognized the mountains and calm farmland of the fields. And, poking out from the western shore, circled in bright red ink, was a single dot labeled ‘111’. I smiled, relief flooding through me.

“They’ll be in Stable 111,” I said aloud. “I know where it is.”

* * * * *

As soon as Pitch marked my location on the map I was off. It took me a full day of flying to reach the coast, and another half day to zero in on the stable. By then it was night, and all I could make out from the sky was a faint twinkling of lights in the darkness below, some reflected in the nearby ocean. I slept on the ground that night, under some shrubs on a far-off beach. I woke much later, unsure how much time had passed. The world was dark and dreary, but all times were like that in the wasteland.

The salty wind filled my senses as I swooped back toward the lights I had seen the night before.

The city of New Canterlot certainly did not live up to its predecessor's glory, but it was a formidable sight nonetheless. Walls of packed rubble, stone, and bits of petrified wood surrounded its entirety. Behind the wall, I could see five massive defense bunkers. One sat at each corner of the city, with a final one in its center. Each had a trio of automatic turrets mounted on top, and I could see dozens of guards patrolling along the walls. At it center was a great hole. A spiraling stairway of dark grey steel lead down into its depths, but there was not enough light for me to make out any details. The place was not impermeable—the wall would stop an army’s charge, but it was short enough to climb over unassisted and the bunkers, while sturdy, could be broken with enough time and explosives—but definitely impressive. I wondered what sort of monsters they had to face that warranted such a sturdy perimeter. Or had they foreseen a need to retreat back to their stronghold? Gleaming had not given me the impression that he would have planned for defeat.

It was pointless to wonder about such things, however. I needed to plan a way to infiltrate the city. I could not simply waltz into the city disguised as any random pony. I would no doubt be questioned, and any story I invented ran the risk of having holes, even to those I had just met. There were simply too many basic facts about the world I might get wrong. I would also need to act fast. I did not know if Gleaming had yet returned, or how long it would be before the Steel Rangers arrived.

I flew up to the cloud cover, and pulled down a small tuft of the dark material. I sat on it and began descending slowly, until I was close enough to peer down and watch the general commotion below me. I disguised as Surprise again. I did not want to be seen, but even if they did spot me I would give them the impression of being an Enclave spy.

I watched, and I waited.

* * * * *

It took me until noon to notice something peculiar.

The city sat near the precipice of a cliff, and as the day went on my eyes were drawn to the shifting waves that crashed against the rocks below. I stared at the tide, entranced, until I saw a pony pop into my sight. He was a bluish-green, unlike any of the guards, and seemed to be searching the waters around him. He retread back behind the cliff, and I was left to wonder who he was, and where he had gone. I moved my cloud cover back up into the sky, then flew away toward the west. I descended and doubled back, flying below the cliff’s ridge. The smell of the sea was stronger here, and the roar of the waves filled my ears.

I returned to the city, and found the Stable. It had been set into the cliffside, above the waterline in a great cave that had been excavated from the cliff. I saw evidence of roads leading down from the top of the ridge, but they had been worn away by the passage of time. There was no way left to climb up or down to the city. The giant hole above must have lead down into the stable’s depths.

The stable was shut, and I realized then that the emblem I had mistaken for a great steel sun was really the stable’s monstrous vault door. They had put it on their banners, engraved number and all, so proud were they of their origin.

I looked around for evidence of the green pony, and saw a small side-door that had been cut into the stable. Around it I saw several tables. Implements were scattered about them, including a bell, a fishhook, and papers held down my magical weights. A metal dock had been built to extend out over the water. It was coated with barnacles and rust. Nopony was visible now, but I did not approach. I stayed close to the cliffside and watched the doorway. Though there was little chance I would be seen from this vantage point, I was thankful for the dark coloring of my suit; it let me blend in to the rock around me.

Another half-hour passed until the pony re-emerged. This time he was joined by a pair of white-coated soldiers. The trio pulled a shallow cart between themselves, filled with grains, dried fruits, and odd metal trinkets. The guards set it near the end of the dock and left their companion, nodding goodbye. He stood alone, staring out at the waves, waiting.

I could have easily incapacitated him, but I did not have a safe place to stash his body, nor did I know who he was or how he fit into the stable. I was also curious as to what he was waiting for. I saw no ships of any size on the water. My mind scrambled to image what else he might be expecting, but I did not have to wait long to find the answer.

Without warning five figures rose from the waters at the head of the dock, colored pink, purple, green, orange, and blue. They were ponies. I blinked in surprise. Only their heads were visible, but even from this distance I could see that something was wrong with them. Their eyes were large and farther apart than most, their muzzles were thin, almost tube-like, and they had no manes. They did not have hairy coats; instead I could make out the gleam of scales as they bobbed in the water. I was not sure how they managed to stay afloat without so much as a splash.

As I gaped at the sight the two parties began to trade. The ponies in the water somehow brought up a small chest between themselves. The unicorn levitated his goods down into the water, and then took their offering while nodding his thanks. He opened the chest, and I saw glass glint and glimmer as whatever was inside reflected the sparse light of day. A chorus of thanks came from the ponies in the water, and they they vanished, slipping back under the waves as quickly as they had come. The unicorn returned to the stable, carrying the chest with his magic. The ponies did not re-emerge. I realized that they had gone deep into the water. The revelation was baffling.

I was wasting time here, it was clear, but I could not bring myself to follow the unicorn. After a moment of agonizing over my next action curiosity drove me to dive toward the water. I hovered, bracing myself, and plunged my head underneath the waves. The sounds of the ocean were dulled here, and my sight was limited. The salt water stung my eyes, but I caught a glimpse of a bright pink flipper swimming deeper into the murk below me.

I returned to the air, blinking away the pain as the pieces began to connect in my mind. I felt a memory stir; not an experience, just the echo of a fact I must have at some point known. These were another kind of pony. I flew back to the cliff, and found an outcropping on the old roadway that had enough space for me to rest on. I stripped off my Enclave armor and stowed it there, then I rushed back to the water’s surface. I triggered my magic, hoping my hunch was right.

I was flooded with elation as I splashed into the water. My wings were gone. My forelegs had been replaced with a pair of small flippers, and my hind legs were fused together as one giant flipper. I drank in the water around me, and found I could breathe even as it filled my lungs. My vision was only slightly improved, but there was no pain as I took in my surroundings. I tested my new limbs, and swam downward, following the general direction in which I had seen these water ponies descend. I was disguised as the pink pony. I had glimpsed her face from a distance, and that was enough. I found it strange that this one had no cutie mark or any other signifier.

I had sparse details—trade partners, food, jewels—but they were enough. Already I was concocting a plan.

I slowed when I caught up to the group. They were proceeding at a leisurely pace, making conversation between themselves. I was surprised to find that their voices came to me clearly through the water.

“Blueberries!” one exclaimed. He was a dark shade of purple. “It’s always blueberries!”

“Well, ‘s not like they can grow much else in that steel cave o’ theirs. Y’can eat grass and corn if you don’t like the fruit.” The one who spoke lead the pack. She was a bright orange color, with small yellow spots on her scales.

“Aye,” the pink one chimed in. “More for me!”

The purple pony’s whinny reverberated through the water. “Shucks, commander, I like fruit just fine. I just wish they had more variety. I want apples, or a nice orange. I’ve heard great things about oranges.”

“Oh yeah?” said the fourth pony of their group. He was a soft green, with black stripes that ran down his back. “Where’d you hear that, Finnegan?”

“Well, lieutenant, sir, remember that ghoul ship we ran into last year? The ones playing at pirate?”

“Ah, I wasn’t there for that one. They mentioned them?”

“Yes, sir. They all kept insisting they just needed some citrus. They didn’t realize they were dead.”

“Tragic.”

“Well I miss kelp,” moaned the pink one.

“Me too, Sandy, me too,” said Finnegan. “Sometimes I wish I’d never volunteered to come back here. I still don’t quite believe there’s a whole wasteland full of bustling ponies up there.”

“Don’t be sayin’ that,” their commander said. “It’s too late to go back now. I don’t want to risk running into those siren again. We’ll make it here, we just gotta hold out for a little longer... hey, Vortex, we should be home by now, aye?” She turned back to the lieutenant.

“Aye.” He nodded. “Current must have crept up on us. It’s strong here.”

“Oh, but I’m strong everywhere,” the commander replied.

When they whinnied it sounded like a bubbling lagoon, but I did not get the joke. They did not stop swimming as they talked and laughed. They stayed in a loose cube formation, carrying their cargo between themselves.

“Ah, there we are!”

The journey until now had been through empty water, nothing but dirt and debris on the seafloor below us. But now I saw a bed of crops, no more than wavy brown weeds, tended by more colorful sea ponies. Lights floated around them. One drifted near me, and I saw it was alive--a small gelatinous creature that pulsed in time with its strokes as it swam through the murk. As we proceeded deeper dark forms rose up from the seabed. Buildings shaped like the tops of twisted trees stuck up from the ground. They were pale white, pink, orange, yellow, and lime green. Their surfaces were dotted with small holes, and I saw hard sediment drifting around the most dilapidated of the structures. We had come to a city, I realized. It was set up around two sides of a wide channel, which the group in front of me now followed. It was a tiny settlement: the buildings grew bigger and then stopped abruptly at the channel’s end. Beyond that was an abyss. No light penetrated further. I glimpsed only the barest hint of the vastness of the ocean, but it was enough to stop me cold. Seeing the sky would have awed me had I retained my faculties when I had first encountered it, but this was an infinity of a whole new magnitude. The ocean’s depth loomed above and below the city. One small shake from the earth and it would be swallowed whole; reduced to less than dust.

Fear gripped me. I was unable to swim further. I hovered where I was, transfixed, until new movement caught my eye. A rusted wrench twirled through the channel below me, caught up in a current I could not see. I saw a bright yellow sea pony dart out from one of the coral houses and snatch it up in their mouth. They swam back to safety, and let the scrap of metal sink into a nearby bucket that was equally as rusted. I saw a few more ponies mirror these actions, and my eyes followed the flow of debris back toward the shore. There were twinkling metals, maybe even a few gemstones, and all manner of garbage. The trinkets trickled in, the sea ponies swept them up, and then dumped back more than half of what they examine. What they did not keep fell over the edge, lost to eternity. Here was the end of the food chain. These sea ponies were bottom feeders, sifting through the Wasteland’s refuse until they could coax life back into this barren straight.

I had lost track of the trade party in my earlier terror, but that did not matter to me anymore. I had enough information to get into Stable 111, and there was no reason to linger. I had switched to the dark purple one to better blend in with my surroundings, but one glance upward would have aroused the scavengers’ curiosity. I spun around, and raced toward the surface, away from the sight of the deep ocean. I had wasted enough time here already.

* * * * *

“Oranges!” I shouted, glaring up from the water. “You promised us oranges!”

“What?” The dock attendant was clearly taken aback. He had trotted up to the water with a bored expression on his face when I had rung for him (there was a bell attached to the dock’s underside), but now his ears were pressed down to his head, and his tail was between his legs. He flinched when I smacked the water with my fins.

“You promised us oranges, and all we got are blueberries. We’re sick of blueberries! We’ve got nothing to eat but blueberries, blueberry pies—we even made blueberry sauce!”

“Y-ya’ll can make pies down in that water?” He was almost as confused as he was scared. I decided to ignore my logical blunder.

“You know what we can’t make? New fruit! A pony needs variety! I’m getting sick just from the smell of blueberries now! You promised us oranges! I want oranges!”

“L-look, uh, Fin, was it?”

“Finnegan!”

“Sorry, Finnegan, I’m just the delivery guy, they told me—”

“Well, Delivery Guy, they told me that I’d be getting some oranges. So cough ‘em up!”

“I, um, I—”

“What’s your name anyway?”

“It’s—it’s Olivine—”

“Look, Olivine, if you can’t get me my oranges, then get me somepony who can.”

“I don’t—”

“Get. Me. Somepony. Who can.”

He turned around. I waited until he was halfway to the door before shouting.

“Hold it!”

“Wha—?” His eyes widened, but he did not have time to scream and I dived him from the air. The impact sent us both through the old wooden dock, and I immediately disguised as Finnegan again. He kicked at me, but the water slowed him. I bit down on one of his hooves and swam lower, not giving him a chance to push his head back above water. I waited for his struggling to weaken, and then brought him back up. I undisguised and flew him back to dry ground, using my magic to help lift his weight. I dropped him as soon as I could and let him cough up the water he had swallowed. I gave him a solid blow to the back of his head and knocked him out for good.

I dragged him away, then flew him up to where I had stowed my armor. I gurgled, and spewed a layer of viscous green slime over my prey. The cocoon hardened, darkening somewhat. It stuck out like a sore thumb on the rocky wall, but you could only get a good look at it from the sea. I had kept an eye on the doorway this whole time, but I had not been heard. I took in a deep breath, and thought through my next steps.

I felt a pang of sympathy for Olivine as I rested, but I did not dwell on it. He was not my friend. I did not know him. I landed in front of the door and took on his skin. No one greeted me when I walked in. The corridor was well lit but short, and there was nothing in it except a card table and a few empty cans of carrot juice. The walls were pure white. I crossed to the opposite door and glanced at what was beyond.

The Stable’s main room was a cavernous well. Three bright crystals hovered in the air above, illuminating the whole space. An immense statue had been erected in the center. It depicted a single pony, standing on her haunches, one hoof reaching up to where the ceiling must have been when the Stable was first built. Her body shimmered: it was covered in jewels, crystals, and hundreds of sparkling metal scraps. I saw two unicorns adding new pieces even now, taking great care to choose the place of each new placement. Two trails of water streamed down from the statue’s eyes, gathering in a wide pool that had been erected around her feet. The moving liquid added to the shimmering of her body, making it seem almost an illusion. Her Cutie Mark shone the brightest. It was a shattered diamond, its pieces enveloped and held together by a bright red heart. A single phrase had been carved into the pool’s wall: Amethyst, we too yearn.

Reverent space was given to the fountain, but around the cavern’s walls the rest of the city had been laid out. I saw food stations and a few shops, but mostly the scenery consisted of a few benches and conversion tables. The ponies here had their colors; the uniform white of the soldiers had been split by a prism. I saw a massive stairway had been carved into the side of the cavern, spring up toward the opening. At the point above the statue’s upraised hoof the wall changed from smooth metal to roughly polished rock. The soft sounds of hoofsteps and whispered conversations echoed around the chamber, rising up to the dark gray sky.

I scanned the walls. More hallways lead away from this central room. The soldiers were sparse down here, and there was no sign of Gleaming Armor or and of his underlings. I must have beaten them here. That would give me time to explore and learn, but it would also mean more risk of exposure. This was a very confined space. No doubt everyone knew everyone else. It would be impossible for me to play the ignoramus here.

I needed to plan. I sat at an empty table and stared at the fountain, watching the light play across Amethyst’s crystallized coat.

Amethyst.

I remembered the name. She had fled here with Bon-Bon. It was her map that had led me here. I still had her notebook stashed away with my armor. I rested my head on the table top as I pondered who she had been.

Why did they give you a statue? Clearly she had been important. Their leader? Why did they cover you in crystals? A few looked like the ones we had been seeking. I shook my head. No, they can’t be related. That would be too much of a coincidence. It’s just rubbish from the sea floor. The dead world’s refuse pasted on a monument to a dead monarch.

I would think about it later. I approached the nearest guard, doing my best to look concerned but not terrified.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

“Yes? What is the matter?” He had been standing alone near a hallway no one approached, staring vacantly at the statue.

“I... there’s a problem with the dock. It... collapsed.”

“Oh. Well, talk to maintenance then, they’ll know what to do.”

“No, it’s—you should come see this. I think it might have been sabotaged.”

“What? By whom?”

“I don’t know, I just—just come see—” I was already turning back toward the door. He started another protest, but the movement of my body was enough to convince him of my urgency. He followed me out to the dock, and out of sight of any other ponies.

I stepped back inside a few minutes later, my fur white and my Cutie Mark that of a horseshoe and anvil. I stepped back to the hallway and took up the guard’s post. Fifteen minutes, I told myself. I will stand here for fifteen minutes so I do not look suspicious. I counted each second. Fifteen minutes. Then I start snooping around for information.

I gave up at seven.

I proceeded down the hallway behind me first. I had seen no one so much as approach it, and even other guards tended to shun the area around me. I found a corridor of empty rooms. There were no doors, only strips of cloth dangling from the top of the door frame, some covered with beads, others sprinkled with more of the sea ponies ‘jewels.’ I stuck my head into each. One appeared to be a library, but I did not have time to check any of the titles. Another was a living quarters. It was filled with strange incense and trophies. The third room turned out to be a small kitchen. It looked like a scaled down version of the one I had seen in Garlic’s Plantation, except a large cauldron had been placed in the middle. It bubbled with a glowing green substance, heated by the small blue flame below it. I took a step forward and gave it a curious sniff. It smelled sweet and pungent, but unlike anything I had yet experienced. I shrugged, and turned around to continue my investigated.

I almost ran into the zebra as I stepped back out into the corridor.

“Ah! Galliant?” His accent was much less pronounced than the one Aegis had, but otherwise he was indistinguishable in the dim light. I stepped back, suppressing the surprise on my face. “What are you doing back here?”

Galliant. First name basis. I would have to be careful.

“Olivine sent me,” I blurted.

“What? What for?”

“The sea ponies... they’re asking for... more than usual.”

The zebra frowned. “Oh. Well, tell them to fuck off then? You have plenty of gems.” He tried to step past me. I blocked him. I was almost a head taller in this form, and much more muscular. He gave me a shocked look.

“They found a few diamonds. They want something special for them; just this once.”

He tilted his head as he looked up at me. I saw his right ear had been pierced, and several gold ringlets were spaced evenly along its outer edge. “Did your mother never tell you about the mouse who asked for a cookie? You have plenty of diamonds as well. They shine just as well as crush metal.”

“Oranges.”

“What?”

“Even something as simple as oranges. They are not very picky.” I said, stepping aside to let him pass into the kitchen. He frowned, taking a tentative step forward.

“What would I know about oranges? You ponies grow the food; you grow them oranges.”

“We can’t,” I guessed. He had turned his back to me, and we were alone. I would push this conversation as far as I could. “But you can make them something, I’m sure.”

“Ha! What, do you want super-sea ponies?” He waved a hoof toward the cauldron. “Or invisible sea-ponies? Or, perhaps that ass-licking Olivine wants to deal with the undead armies of the sea? I do not deal in trinkets you magnanimous fuck! This is insulting. Go talk to your farmers or something.” He regarded me with hostility now, but I had learned enough. I took a step forward. He flinched but did not back down.

“You insult me,” I grumbled.

“You have insulted me by this request. I will insult you at my leisure.”

“Fair enough. Where are your invisibility cloaks?”

“What?”

“You mentioned invisibility. Where are the cloaks. I’ve seen you use them.”

The annoyance in his demeanor vanished. He was suspicious now, and confused. I felt also a trace of fear.

“They are... where they always are...”

“And where would that be?”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you?”

I had triggered my magic before he had started the question. My fangs ripped down into his flesh, scraping downward but not deep enough to puncture his larynx. I followed through on my motion and ended up chomping down on his leg. He gave a half-muted scream and fell forward as I jumped into the air. I let him fall and then dropped down onto his chest. A bought of wheezing followed as he sprawled on the floor, fighting to breathe.

“Where are your invisibility cloaks?”

I walked around so he could see me, and I floated a nearby knife above his head. Blood was dripping steadily down his neck, but it was not a strong flow. I had aimed correctly.

I did not understand his reply. I stomped down on his uninjured foreleg and kicked him in the head to stop his screaming. I had to stomp down thrice more before the bones broke.

“Where are your invisibility cloaks?”

“You’re... a fucking... bug...” He glared at me, and I could feel the flames of his hatred; further pain would only be fuel. His spirit was even more durable than his limbs. I did not have the time or stomach to get the information I wanted. The noises he’d made thus far had left me nauseous. I slit his throat and tossed the knife aside. I took a moment to steady myself, surprised at my reaction. I had killed before, was torture a somehow more terrible act?

After a moment I stepped up to the bubbling cauldron. I used a small cup to scoop some of the green liquid out and gave it a tentative taste. I was not unpleasant, and thicker than I had expected. I waited a minute and felt no different, so I drank the rest. The effect was immediate. I felt my body swell with energy and burst, and suddenly I felt stronger. More steady on my feet. I check myself over. Nothing had changed, but the feeling persisted.

Super-sea ponies.

I shrugged. It hadn’t killed me. If I had gained anything, then it would be a pleasant surprise later. For now I had bigger things to worry about.

I continued my search down the corridor. I found two more rooms, one full of memory orbs, and another which turned out to be a hallway lined with several chests and beds. It was a small barracks, adorned in the same creepy style as the earlier bedroom had been. I checked through all the chests, but found little except carved wooden statuettes and decorative knives. As I turned to leave I slipped on the floor. Baffled, I put another hoof down on the spot that had moved. I felt fabric. I focused on the spot and, to my surprise, it glowed under my magic. The air shimmered and rippled as I draped the cloak over myself experimentally. I lifted a hoof up in front of my face. I smiled. I could see nothing but the room around me.

My lucky day.

The room at the end of the corridor was empty but for a single terminal. Still underneath my new cloak, I tapped curiously through the menus. There were various recordings, many with mundane titles or simply numbers to indicate the dates they were recorded. The numbers meant nothing to me. Only one title caught my eye. I played truth.wav.

“You have heard these words before, my dear son.” A mare spoke. It was a voice I did not recognize, but I heard age in it, and a painful rasp. “They are the first words we heard upon learning about our history. You also know they are only half the truth.”

“Yes mother.”

“Today you will learn the rest.”

I heard a click, and then a third voice started. It was another mare, young and hopeful. A recording within a recording. I frowned as I listened.

“Hello, my little ponies. Welcome to Stable 111. If you are listening to this now, do not despair. We have not lost the war... not if you have made it here. As you may notice, only unicorns have been sent to this stable. The reason for this? Celestia herself have selected you. You all have useful skills: food production, weaponry, defense. In sum, you have the most potent magicks for fighting back against the zebra. Hone your skills. Raise your children to be warriors. When the time comes, you will erupt from this haven and rejuvenate Equestria. Stable 111 is the greatest hope we have for a future full of ponies, Celestia herself has said so. She has seeded the very walls of this place with her magic. You are safe here; safe to grow strong. My little ponies, you are Equestria's last hope. Hone your power, and you will bring about a new dawn. Endure, and Equestria will rise again. Celestia is watching.” Another click signaled the end of the nested recording.

“Now,” said the mother, “this next file was found by my grandfather. It is the truth.” Another click.

“Hello. To whoever finds this: I’m sorry.” The mare sounded much older now, and weary. “You know who I am. You know how we got to this point. I’m sorry, but we lied. We... fuck, they thought that, by giving you a ‘divine’ purpose, you’d be able to... well, I don’t fucking know. I just don’t fucking know anymore. I guess they thought it’d blind you to how difficult the task is. Or it would prevent you from doubting yourself. Or something. Point is: they lied. We lied. You’re not special. You’re not magical savants or anything, just the lucky bastards who get to survive the apocalypse... and we’re the ones who failed you... fuck, I’m sorry. I’m just... so fucking sorry. Please... please don’t make the same mistakes we did. Don’t fight. Don’t kill. Don’t... just don’t fuck up like we did. I’m sorry.”

Silence followed. I blinked, confused. Divine purpose? Lied? Gleaming had spouted off the same rhetoric as the first recording. Why—?

“They... lied? Celestia... it was all a lie?” The second voice was much quieter now. I could almost taste the despair in it.

“Yes,” said the first mare, her voice full of a defiant pride. “ But their lie became our reality. We are Equestria’s last hope. We are its greatest potential. We do have the greatest magical power, the greatest organization, the greatest drive in all of the Wasteland. We are a rock around which the Wasteland will rise. We are a rock on which our enemies will break. We shall bring to this world the dawn of a new age not because we have been chosen by Celestia, but because we have forged ourselves into the greatest weapon for Equestria’s good.”

“This is the real truth,” she concluded. “The real truth is that we are what we make of ourselves. Do you want to avenge Celestia? Then take our armies out and crush the zebra underfoot. Do you want to be the king of all Equestria, my son? Then take it. It does not matter if it was all a lie. If you want it, then make it your truth.” The rasp in her voice turned into a bout of coughing.

“Y-yes... mother... I will.”

“Good... Gleaming, good. Make me proud...” There was a final wheeze, and the recording ended.

* * * * *

I stepped back into the center of the Stable, unseen, and found it abuzz with activity. I watched as the central chamber filled and drained as ponies scrambled back to their homes. Guards shouted orders and directed the traffic, and in minutes the area was clear of civilians. The remaining guards took up positions along each hallway, except for a small vanguard that began marching up the stairwell. I followed them, making sure to keep a safe distance and step lightly. I knew they could not see me below the invisibility cloak, but I knew better than to think myself truly safe. I had at least learned that from all my failures.

I crawled up the last few flights only after I was sure the soldiers had dispersed to the ground above. The soldiers had spread out around the battlements, but they did not seem to be preparing for battle. The bunkers were empty, and the turrets did not turn to point at any enemy. A cheer went up, and I saw several of the unicorns levitating stone ramps to lean over the side of the walls. I stepped back to the northernmost barricade, where only three soldiers remained, and watched as the army of New Canterlot returned.

Gleaming was at the head, followed by Lute. The two stood opposite each other, and watched as their soldiers marched back down into the city. There were less than when I had last seen them, but not by much. I looked carefully, and noted a soft green glow around their eyes. There were almost twice as many undead as alive within their ranks. I shuddered. New Canterlot hadn’t even tapped into its reserves yet.

After the obedient horde had passed, they marched in the prisoners. Or I thought they were prisoners until I saw the few with guns escorting those in the middle. My heart raced as I scanned the faces. They were not a small group, but they could be no more than a fourth of the number of NC regulars. I saw Hairpins, and Tumbleweed with a black eye. She was smiling as always, but mud and exhaustion was plastered across both their faces. I glanced coats and Cutie Marks that sparked vague memories—ponies from Chard or Bulbs, or Maize maybe. Then Rolling—I had to stop myself from gasping. He was there, in the back. His fur was ruffled, and I saw several bandages around his legs, but he walked normally, and looked otherwise unhurt. A long rifle was strapped to his back, and a gun pointed at the pony in front of him—Spare Parts.

I blinked. By the time my mind recovered they were nearing the bottom of the pit and the city’s soldiers were returning to their places in the battlements. I had been unable to process the sight of them—Rolling was here. He was working for the NCs. And Spare Parts was alive. Guilt weld up within me; guilt and relief and the memory of hunger left unsatisfied. I had no idea I could feel so much for Spare Parts. I thought she had died for me. I thought I hadn’t cared. And Rolling... a black lump sat in by gut. I couldn’t believe had would work with them. Did he not know what they had done? Had I misjudged him completely? Had I—?

I shoved it all away from my mind. Rolling was down below. A dead zebra was there too, and Gleaming was back. The element of surprise was quickly slipping away from me. I had no time to spare agonizing over possibilities. Working with the NCs was not a betrayal, I told myself. Rolling must have some other motive. He might be coerced, or maybe they promised him something. Maybe they told him I was here.

I sensed a flash hate behind me, and then the sear of heat across the back of my neck as I spun around to see where it came from. The air sizzled behind me. Had I been a second slower the laser beam would have bored through my head.

“You breathe too loudly, bug.” Lute fired off three more beams as she spoke. I dodged them all, looping upwards with my wings while gripping the invisibility cloak in my mouth. I sped away, up toward the clouds, swirling and zig-zagging as much as I could. A barrage followed me as more soldiers joined in, but I had gained enough distance in my initial burst of flight. I soared through the clouds and kept going west until I could no longer hear the hiss of vaporizing water behind me.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I forced myself to take deep breaths. I screamed in frustration. I had been so close. I had almost done it. But of course they had found me. I would be the first thing they’d check for, now that they new. Gleaming was a fanatic, but he was not stupid. I cursed, fear cutting through my battle high. They would no-doubt be sweeping the perimeter soon, looking for those ponies I had replaced. I took another breath and dove back below the clouds.

I skirted along the side of the cliff, water churning below me. The sun was setting, sending long shadows across the water. The rock glowed orange around me. I pulled up sharply, suppressing the urge to curse again. My suit was gone from where I had stowed it; the green sarcophagus I had vomited out was split open and already decaying. I saw five soldiers guarding the rear entrance, and the sweep of light beams above me. Not a half hour had passed since I’d fled and they were already locked down.

I tried to sleep that night above the clouds, but the stars were too much to bear. There were so many of them, so many strange gleaming lights, glinting like crystals. The moon was there too, illuminating the cloudbank for miles. I felt exposed and vulnerable, and overwhelmed by the infinity above me. I curled up in the roots of a dead tree, near a muddy beach in the west. I tried to think of options, of ways to get back into New Canterlot and get Rolling out. But there was nothing I could do. I was out of tricks, and my enemies were too powerful to take head on.

But the Steel Rangers would be here soon.

I sighed, trying to release the fear and anxiety that squirmed in my gut. I could do nothing but let the coming war play out, and pray that the ponies I hoped for as friends would find a way to survive it. But did I even care about them any more? Surprise had rejected me, Rolling seemed willing to work with the NCs, regardless of the reasons. The only other ponies I knew had tried to kill or torture me in one form of another—Spare Parts was the exception, but she did not know who I really was, and I had hurt her in any case. The others of my species were gone, either physically or mentally or both. Professor Pitch was the closest thing I had to a real friend, but she was technically dead.

I wept suddenly, regret and despair welling up inside of me. White Wind and his group had liked me; they’d let me in. And I’d thrown them away without even thinking. I just wanted to survive, why didn’t I just stick with them? Why did I chose the harder path? For friendship? Did I even understand that word? Was it even possible for me to have true friend?

We are what we make of ourselves.

I gave a bitter laugh. I could make myself anyone else. I could even disappear now. But that would not get me friends. That would not help me find stability. I would be a parasite until the day I died, a deceiver, a predator. I would forever be at war with the other species of this world. No amount of magic or power would change that fact.

I can be anything, I realized, except myself.

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Mind Reader - You can sometimes sense oncoming attacks, but not from who or where. Enemies are 10% less likely to hit you and S.A.T.S costs 25% less Action Points to use. Too bad you don’t have a PipBuck. (You need to have taken Telepathy (Level 1) in order to take this perk).
Quest Perk: Sea Pony Skin - You can swim and breathe underwater when properly disguised. Amazing! Stat penalties when in the water are removed when properly disguised.
Quest Perk: Bone-Strengthening Brew (Changeling Variant) - With this perk, your limbs only receive 75% of the damage they normally would. (Note: Bone-Strengthening Brew and the cybernetic implant perk Adamantium Bone Lacing are mutually exclusive.)

Chapter 13: Ascendence

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 14: Business and Pleasure

“I just want to start a flame in your heart.”

“G’morning girly.”

I cracked open one eye. The stallion next to me was smiling, eyes half-open in the same post-sleep haze I was now recovering from. His fur was a dark green spotted with brown. His mane was black, and matted, as mine no doubt was, against the pillows we slept on. His breath stank—but they all did. I returned his smile, wishing he had let me sleep a little longer, but his time was almost up, and I would never pass up the opportunity for breakfast in bed.

Afterwards, I sent him away, and then trotted to the washroom that was attached to my bedchamber. The room was sparse. I had a wash bin, a few towels, a bar of soap, and a small mirror mounted on the wall. Most of the other mares who lived here had their own washrooms, filled with makeup and incense and whatever else ponies used to make themselves appealing, but I had no need of such things. If my hair got tangled or my coat stained, I need only refresh my disguise and my looks would be restored. But it felt nice, sometimes, to rinse my face in water. My real face, the one I wore so rarely these days.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Purple hair. A white coat. Three diamonds sparkling on my flank. How would Twilight react now, knowing that I was prostituting the image of her friend? Would she hate me as much as Trixie did? Would she still have stayed Unity’s hoof when it was primed to crush me? I sighed in Rarity’s voice.

If I’m lucky, the abomination will never find me again.

I stepped back into my bedchamber. It was less bare than my bathroom. A bed, a vanity, a sewing table, a window, and a closet with spare sheets. I changed them out, dumped the dirty ones in the laundry bin, and put on the dress Glitter Bomb had given me when I had first arrived. I had ripped it that very night, not used to having to take off clothing, and she had taught me to sew the next morning. I was very good at it by now.

I stepped out my door, walked past Midnight’s room, and trotted down the stairs to the main floor. It was a wide area, with tables spread out roughly circling a central stage, currently unoccupied except for the pair of poles that ran up to the ceiling. From that vantage, I knew, one could see just over the bar at the far end of the hall, catch the eyes of ponies cheering form the two walkways that lead to the rooms on the second story, and catch glimpses of the cooks in the kitchen as waitresses passed in and out, the doors swinging behind them. A great pair of stable doors sat opposite the bar; the building’s only entrance. They were open, as they always were unless the temperature dropped at night, and through them I saw the last traces of the dawn’s mist dwindling to reveal the packed dirt of the only street that existed in this tiny town: the settlement of Seeds.

Seeds. Where there’s no crops, no fields, but plenty of plowing.

The town had many more unofficial slogans. Most of them much more explicit in their wording, but all equally as lewd. That one, however, was Midnight’s favorite.

“Oh Rarity, there you are dearie, you’re just on time!” The mare that called to me was a mix of light orange and pink, and had covered her eyelids with a sparkling blue powder. She wore a red lacy dress that overwhelmed her hips and blocked half the view behind her. It was hemmed with gold that matched her earrings. A purple and green bow was twined through her mane, which glittered even more than her eyeshadow. She was the brothel’s owner, Hoochie Coochie. Nopony I had talked to believed it was her real name, but nopony knew what else it might be. Most of the regulars just called her Hooch.

“Midnight is still feeling under the weather today,” she said, “so I need somepony to cover her wait shift. You’re available right now, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” I said, already putting on a practiced smile. “I just sent my guest on his way.” I had already forgotten his name.

I trotted off to the kitchen, looking for an apron and a notepad. Both were stamped with the image of a brown seed sprouting a deep red heart. The same image, I knew, was cast in metal on each of the walls outside the brothel. It was the only branding Hoochie Coochie felt the need to make. She had no competitors here; the brothel across the street was owned by her brother, Red Hot, and offered only stallions. Neither building had a name. They were referred to only as ‘the brothel at Seeds,’ if they were referred to as anything at all. Ponies came to Seeds for only one reason, came, and then went. The rest of the economy—the trade posts at the town’s entrance, the water collecting facility and brewery at the town’s end, the shacks that passed for housing and the house that passed for a hotel—existed only to support the two brothels.

It was strange, now, to think how casual the job had become. When I had first come here, I had been desperate; starving. I had been planning to murder one of the clients to get some caps so I could pay for a night with Glitter Bomb when I realized I there was a much easier way to get the attention I needed. Nearly delirious from hunger, I had asked for a job and invited the first drunk buck who stumbled into me up to my room. I even forgot to ask for money. Thankfully, he had left a pile of caps on the vanity before he left. I was sated, but my hunger had taken its toll.

Even now, after the panic and fear had become a dulled trauma, I could not recall what exactly I had done after Unity had vanished from the battlefield in front of New Canterlot. I fled, obviously, for I remembered myself flying away from the ruin of the battle, still crying over Rolling and Surprise and my failure to sway either of them to flee with me. I must have scavenged a healing potion from one of the corpses, and I must have thought through where I wanted to go next, but I could not remember doing any of it. Nor did I try.

“I’m sorry, Maggy.”

I had stood in the cave where I had been reborn, my eyes watering. The bodies that had I had found around me were gone. Whether they had been the victim of scavengers or recovered by the Pegasi I would never know, but nothing remained in the cave but a green stain along the wall where Maggy’s cocoon had regrown me.

I stayed in that cave, sleeping and weeping, wallowing in my despair until my familiar enemy reappeared. Hunger consumed me. I could not ignore it. It drove out my sadness, and there my clear memories stopped. I remembered glimpses of Chard, still a ruin, now abandoned. I might have gone to Bulbs, or Maize, but whatever seductions I might have attempted there failed and I found myself in the only place as yet untouched by Gleaming’s war.

Changelings. Prostitution. In retrospect, it seemed like an obvious fit. I had wondered why Chrysalis had not seen this opportunity. Surely Seeds was not the only place this happened. Was it pride? Was it ignorance? Or had the opportunity simply never presented itself? Had the search for the Crystal Shards consumed her? Was the past so worth restoring that she had thrown out any possibility of adapting to this new future? It was not until later—until now—that I begun to understand why, perhaps, she had not taken up this profession.

It was easy to please them. I could read their desires, and urge them on without having to speak. It was easy to entice clients to my bed, now that I had learned the right words to say, and the right ways to move my body. But it was hard to feed efficiently. Lust is not love. It gives you energy in small bursts, but it is a shallow well, and sweet like sugar. Too much of it only makes you sick.

I discovered this during my third week at the brothel. My energy had, I noticed, plateaued, and a strange lanquidity had overcome me. It was like a fog in my mind. My magic became sluggish, and harder to channel. I felt weakness in my joints. When next I tried to feed, the feelings amplified, resulting in full-on physical nausea.

“Holy shit, are you pregnant newbie?” Midnight had heard my retching the night before. “We give you those rubbers for a reason.”

“No, no.” I had to suppress laughter. Even if I were to remain disguised permanently, I lacked the anatomy for anything like that to happen. I still did not understand how exactly my magic/body worked, but I had enough memories to know that pregnancy was impossible. Not even queens could cross-pollinate.

From then on I paced myself, taking in what love I could and sustaining myself on everything else in the meantime. I got more genuine feelings from my coworkers now than from an average client, but even that was a slow trickle. I would not grow powerful here, but it was a life. A much safer one than I had ever had before.

“Hey, Strap, turn up the radio would you?”

Music rose above the murmuring and laughter of the early-morning crowd as she obeyed the request of the mare she was with. Bootstrap was new here, having started only three weeks ago. Bulbs was getting too crowded, she had said. And one of her exes lived in Maize. I recognized the song that played. It was slow, the voice deep and melancholy. It was one of the limited few DJ-PON3 had in their collection, and by now I had heard all of them. Thankfully, there was still enough variance so that they never got old.

As I took orders and balanced plates of food in my magic, the song ended, and the DJ’s voice came on the radio. I was too busy serving, taking orders, and pretending to care about whatever comments the clients sent my way to pay attention to whatever was said, but judging by the lack of reaction from the crowd the news was nothing substantial. Sometimes the DJ gave comforting speeches, or roused up the audience to denounce an atrocity. I ate well in those moments. Love for the DJ ran strong through all of the Equestria’s denizens, it seemed.

I considered, once, seeking out Tenpony tower and disguising as the Wasteland’s most beloved announcer. But I had no idea where to go, what dangers might lurk outside of the Fields, or if I could even survive long enough before dying of starvation. Not to mention what I would do when I got there. I would have to learn about the ponies there, how to worm my way into the right position, and sustain myself in the meantime. Even such vague plannings left me feeling exhausted. No, I had decided. I am safe here. This life is stable.

The end of the breakfast shift came, and our clients began their daily exodus from the main hall. We shut down during lunchtime—we needed a break at some point—and so once the last buck had left we all rushed into the kitchen to throw together something to eat while Hoochie Coochie closed the doors and started getting the stage ready for the night’s opening acts.

“Strap, Cherry Blossom, you’re on tonight, don’t forget!” Her voice took on a sing-song tone as she called back to us. The two mares acknowledged with synchronized grunts. Their mouths were full.

I sat with the mares I considered friends as they ate, nibbling on a pair of carrots. We had pushed together a pair of tables in order to fit us all. The others sat in smaller groups around us, their conversations low and subdued. Glitter Bomb sat to my right, followed by Bootstrap, Cherry Blossom, and Misty (all unicorns), then Sweet Pea, Penny Pound, Muffin Top, and Golden Delicious. I was never physically hungry these days, but I still ate with the rest of them. I liked to listen to their chatter, and it helped me feel like I fit in.

“Hello, everyone.” I turned and saw Midnight approaching us, a steaming mug of tea floating in her magic. She sniffled as she took a seat beside me.

“Good morning,” I said. “Feeling better?”

“Not yet. But soon. I never get sick for long.” She took a sip from her mug. “Did I miss anything interesting?”

“Nah,” Muffin Top intoned. Everyone else shrugged.

“We almost had a fight last night,” I recalled. “After you went to bed. They each thought the other was cheating at cards.”

“Cards? Are we doing gambling now, too? I thought that was all at Red Hot’s place.”

“No, it was only a game for fun. They were just that drunk.” She and Glitter Bomb laughed.

I liked Midnight. Aesthetically, she was half my inverse: purple coat, purple mane so dark it was almost black, a white half-moon on her flank. Her eyes were a dark red, almost the color of rust. I had never seen anything like it before. She laughed at every joke she heard, even the bad ones, but it was never fake. Either a joke was funny, or funny because it was bad, she had explained to me. Nothing shocked her either; in all the strange or violent scenarios I had seen her in, never once did she hesitate to act and rectify the situation. In the second month I had worked with her, a band of raiders had stormed the building, demanding food and caps and threatening to drag off a few of us as captives. She had slid up to them as soon as they had finished their demands, giggling as if being carried away by these maniacs were her dream come true. She seemed so genuine that their leader didn’t notice the knife she was carrying until it was pressed into his throat. The raider’s weapons turned from pointing at our patrons to pointing at her, and then every pony in the brothel pulled out a gun.

The raiders had backed down after that, dropping their weapons and scattering to the wind. Midnight laughed at the end of it. She was unflappable. She’d barely batted an eye at me when she’d seen me undisguised.

“So is it true, Rarity?” Bootstrap leaned across the table toward me, her plate half-empty. “What Midnight told me about you? Why she calls you Worker?”

I swallowed hard. Our table was suddenly silent. Everypony here knew. The night Midnight had discovered me I had been in my bathroom, cleaning myself off before going to bed. She was out of soap, she told me later. She never gave me an excuse for why she didn’t knock.

“Where’s Rarity?” she had demanded, blocking the door. “Who are you?”

I had stared at her, frozen in panic. I had gotten too comfortable. I had let my guard down. I prepared to fight, thinking of how to move, how fast she could react to me. I readied myself to kill her—and stopped as a lump formed in my throat.

“Hey, answer me!” Midnight took a step forward.

I had realized, then, that I didn’t want to kill her. I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t want to flee and be forced to struggle alone in the Wasteland. This place was my home now. I owned books, I had my own clothes. When Glitter Bomb threw a half-smile my way, I got the joke. I knew Misty’s favorite songs, and why Muffin Top hated Jubilee—somehow, these ponies had become my friends. Even now, I knew Midnight well enough to know that she did not want to hurt me. She just wanted answers. She was concerned for her friend.

I had told her what I was. I had shown her my power. She did not react at first, and then only asked who else I had told.

“Nopony else,” I said.

“Well that just won’t do!” She grabbed me without warning, and dragged me outside, shouting for Hoochie Coochie and all the rest of our coworkers. I went cold with panic.

“Midnight? What are you doing? I can’t—”

“If we’ve got nothing to fear from you, then you’ve got nothing to hide from us,” Midnight said. She had entertained none of my counter-arguments, and before long everypony who worked in the building was gathered around us, wondering what all the commotion was for.

Again I confessed. Unable to find the words, I had simply undisguised and then let their questions come. It had been a terrifying afternoon, but the shock was nothing new. Thankfully, none of the ponies here had heard about changelings, so I was able to pave over the less pleasant details. I said nothing about Chrysalis, or our history with Equestria. I was just another species, from a foreign land. It was true, technically.

“You can be anypony? Why are you here?”

“I feed off of love.” Their expressions ranged from amused to disgusted. “The emotion. Literally. That wasn’t a euphemism. I survive off of absorbing other ponies’ good feelings. This job makes that easy.” I swallowed, forcing a smile. A few of them laughed, and I felt their fear and distrust begin to fade.

“So, is your name really Rarity?” one of the cooks had asked.

“No. It’s Worker.”

Hoochie Coochie had been the last one to accept me.

“A bug? What will I tell our clients?” She stared at me from across her desk, her nose scrunched in disgust. “What if one of them finds out they’ve been fucking a bug? Do you think they want that? Do you think I want that kind of reputation? Ponies like it here, I have a very stable business. I don’t need risk factors like weird bug-ponies. No offense, but you are a liability now.”

“Ma’am,” I said, doing my best to look demure. “Nopony besides us needs to know, right? It’s all an act anyway. They want a beautiful body, and I give them one. Where’s the harm in that?”

“If it were just me, then yes, dearie, I wouldn’t care, but the whole staff knows! This sort of gossip doesn’t stay put, you know. Somepony’s going to get drunk and talk and then zip—there go our clients. For all they know, all of us could be love-happy buggies and they’d never know it. You’re not worth the risk—”

“I’ll work for free,” I said. “I don’t need caps for anything. Just love.” Her face brightened at my words.

“Oh. Well why didn't you just say that to begin with!?”

Things were fine now, everypony who worked with me was used to my ‘condition’ and its associated quirks, but it was never discussed—I was a bit weird, that was all. I was Rarity. Midnight called me Worker because she was weird too, and we were friends. That was the end of it.

“So is it true, Rarity?”

“Yes,” I said.

Bootstrap’s eyes widened. “Can you become me?”

I blinked. Everyone else was still silent. “Sure,” I said. So I disguised as Bootstrap. The mare gave a delighted shout, then clapped her hooves together. Midnight laughed.

“Cool!”

The word broke the table’s tension. Glitter Bomb returned to her food, and everyone else resumed their conversations. I turned back into Rarity and finished my carrots. This had been the first time it had come up since I had been dragged before them.

“See?” Midnight said, nudging me with an elbow. “No reason to hide.”

Tell that to my clients, I thought. In the company of friends, I could hint at my true self, but strangers would not have the patience to listen to my story. Nor did I want to handicap myself with a disclaimer each time I slept with someone new. Nopony came to Seeds looking for a genuine relationship. Every mare and stallion working here put on a facade, mine just happened to be a bit more convincing than most. But if I slipped up, even once, working for free wouldn’t be enough to save me. Hell, if a stallion or mare ever found out I had been deceiving them, there was no telling what they might do to me just in that moment. I have every reason to hide.

* * * * *

The day went on, and soon enough we all had to rise from out chairs and began to prepare for the night’s festivities. I helped Misty levitate stage lights into place along the walkways. I made sure they were properly aligned while Glitter Bomb and a few others decorated the stage. They draped maroon cloth hemmed with tinsel over the sides, and spread glitter over the whole area. We strung banners and a rainbow of paper flags from the banisters, and then made sure each of the tables set aside for dining had a fresh cloth and clean silverware. The rest we left bare; their surfaces were already stained with the spilled drinks of countless previous nights.

Outside, I knew, ponies were setting up flood lights on top of nearby buildings and making sure all the spritebots at the town’s entrance still functioned. The small bug-like robots had been responsible for the cacophony I had encountered during New Canterlot’s forced march. They were always playing the same music, but the noise scared away what few predators still prowled through the Fields. The noise, along with the lights, helped attract any nearby travelers and let the locals know it was time for the weekly show. There would be dancing, cheap drinks, and plenty of time to see all of our angles.

I enjoyed the dancing, through I was not much good at it. It was easy to find joy on the dance floor, and a few moments of true happiness. I would eat them up, and then finish with a client or two for desert. Last week had been particularly bountiful. The stallion who had gone to bed with me had been with me before, and I sensed he had developed something of a crush. Brickabrac was his name, and he was one of the few ponies from whom I had taken real love. I had considered leaving with him; nursing his infatuation into something stronger and feeding from him permanently. But that was what Chrysalis would do. Manipulate and parasitize. I didn’t want that. I wanted to be accepted; I wanted my hive to be built on a genuine trust. Not deceit or hatred. My guise as Rarity was as far as I would go. It was an economic transaction. My body and time for their money; so what if I put on skin instead of makeup? They were here for an act to begin with; was that not consent to be deceived?

When all our work was done the others went off to their rooms to freshen up and prepare for the evening’s performance. It was my turn to tend the bar, along with Midnight, and after making sure it was fully stocked I wandered outside to get a taste of fresher air. Above me the spotlights swam over the under-surface of the clouds, illuminating the dark lines and curves of their bellies. There was a slight breeze, and in the distance I heard the chirping tones of the spritebots. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. The air smelled of nothing here; only dust. I had become immune to the scents of sweat, unwashed grime, spilled alcohol, vomit, and perfume that attempted to drown it all out. The brothel stank sweetly, its history soaked deeply into every last board and brick. Outside was a respite from the smell and the unending hustle that came with work. I let my mind go blank, and simply focused on the smell of nothing; the smell of dust.

When I noticed the first few ponies beginning to wander my way, I stepped back inside and set up behind the bar. They trickled in, some alone, some in groups or pairs. Most of the groups found tables and began ordering food, while those that had come alone went straight for the bar. Midnight and I began taking orders and making small talk with the regulars. My smile was on again. As I mixed drinks with my magic or trotted over to the kitchen to call out the occasional food order, a small part of my mind was picking through the emotions around me. I got plenty of glances my way, but the flashes of desire that came with them were not worth taking in. A lingering glance, a stare, and the stirring of a fantasy all felt different, and it was only from the most intense outpourings that I bothered to sip from. It was not a real meal, but it kept me energized as I worked. I had perfected the practice by now. I could work all through the night like this and barely get tired.

The noise of conversation grew around me as the grey light from outside the door turned black, and then a blinding yellow as the outside lights turned on. A few minutes later, the lights inside dimmed, and the stage lights turned on. A red curtain surrounded the circular stage, hiding it from view. It hung from a mechanical claw suspended in the rafters that had been lowered during the show’s set-up. A drum roll played, emanating from speakers placed at the hall’s corners and along the walkways, and at its end the curtain sprung up, revealing Bootstrap and Cherry Blossom. The two wore lavish gowns: crimson laced with black, blacked laced with silver, each full and billowing, yet still revealing.

“Good evening, everypony,” Cherry Blossom purred. “I hope you’re all ready for tonight’s... action.” The crowd cheered, and music began to play.

The songs we played were our own records. Hoochie Coochie had salvaged and traded for them in the years before she had settled down in Seeds. They were all love ballads, or raunchy ‘chanties,’ or up-beat but lyricless tunes. Hoochie had written her own lyrics for the latter cases, but not all of us could sing, so those were used less often than the mare would have liked. I was glad to be exempt from the singing. The dancing was difficult enough. Moving in those dresses was exhausting, and the heat from all the lights that shone on my body did not help things.

I had been up on that stage several times by now, and I still did not quite understand the purpose of the performance. At the conclusion of each song Bootstrap and Cherry Blossom removed a piece of their clothing, until finally they would stand naked in front of the audience, tails twined together, panting and dripping with sweat. It was titillating, Midnight informed me. Yet aside from armor, most ponies were already basically naked. Heck, the entirety of New Canterlot’s army had fought in the nude.

“It’s not being naked that sexy, it’s getting there. And doing it slowly. It’s a tease; it’s foreplay. Besides, ponies didn’t actually invent it, we imported it from some other culture somewhere. Before the war, I think. Or during. Either way, their probably dead now. Obviously we didn’t come up with it ourselves.” I could only shrug at her explanation.

By the time Bootstrap and Cherry Blossom were into their second song, most of the patrons at the bar had turned from their drinks to ogle the pair. I sat on my haunches, taking advantage of the lull in activity to relax. Cheers went up as they faked a long kiss, and then again as more clothing was removed. I sighed, focusing more deeply on the emotions around me. At least two ponies somewhere really thought they were in love, I sensed, but it was not directed at me, so I could not feed from them effectively. I had only eaten table scraps so far, but the night was still young.

The show ended with hollering and applause. The two performers bowed, and then the curtain lowered. The music did not stop, however. The stage lights swiveled, and a filter was placed over them so that they now illuminated the empty space between the bar and the seating area. A few lines of paint marked off the dance floor. Dance music began to play; a lyricless piece with a fast tempo and strange instruments. Penny Pound, Muffin Top, and all the other mares who had been interspersed with the crowd trotted onto the floor, bringing a partner or two with them. The lights turned blue, then red, then green, and the colors danced over the bodies of the partying ponies.

I drew my attention back to my clients at the bar. Most were still smiling, happy with the show, but I could tell they would be asking more more drinks soon. A few left, a few new ones joined. My heart leapt—

White Wind was in front of me, asking for a bourbon. I gave it to him, smiling. He handed me caps.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Anything for you, darling,” I said without thinking. I turned around, a brief panic swelling within me. I took a sharp breath, pretending to be busy.

White Wind. I had not forgotten about him, but I had put him out of my mind. I had not thought about him since the night I had left him—no, I had not thought about him since I had fled New Canterlot. He was a part of that saga, and that time—that life—was dead. Or, rather, I had pretended it was dead. Seeds was my new life. Seeing White Wind brought back all the pain and rage and shame I had buried inside myself. It did not surprise me that he was alive, only that he was here—but of course he was here, why wouldn’t he be? Everyone in the Fields knew about Seeds. Especially now that it was one of the few places left intact.

“Ma’am? What kinda scotch ya got here?”

I turned back to him, as confused as I was surprised. His glass was already empty.

“Thirsty, are we?”

“Well ma’am, I just got in. Figured I had some catching up to do.”

“Oh-ho, well make sure you don’t get too far ahead.” I poured him his scotch and watched in numb silence as he tipped his head back and downed it in one gulp. His eyes met mine. I gave a short laugh, trying to mask my anxiety. “Would you like anything else?”

“I think... a beer,” he said. “And water.”

I brought him his drinks. He sipped the beer, then nodded his thanks, smiling, and I returned to our other customers. Midnight gave me a questioning look. I shrugged.

“You know him.”

“Y-yes.”

“But he doesn’t know you.”

“Yes,” I admitted. She shrugged.

It took a lot more effort than usual to keep smiling. A ball of worms roiled in my chest, squirming in and out of my belly. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. Regret? Remorse? Guilt? Part of me wanted to ignore White Wind and move on. Part of me wanted to know what had happened to him since we parted.

What happened after I abandoned you?

I had realized, then, that he was alone. A few sweeps of the audience revealed that Tango Seed and Golden Grime were nowhere to be seen. Were they staying at the hotel? Had their group separated? Or worse? I swallowed, my mixture of emotions smoothing out into apprehension. I wanted to know what he had been through.

I made sure everypony else at the bar was happy, then, taking a water pitcher in my magic, I stepped back over to him. I flashed him a wide smile as I topped off his glass. “First time in Seeds, stranger?”

“Ah, yes ma’am.” He returned my smile, and I saw in it the same tension I felt. Strange. I sat the pitcher down underneath the counter, and took a step closer to him, forcing my body to relax a little. I cocked my head to the side. “Been in the Fields almost half a year now, figured I’d see what the fuss was about. Name’s White Wind.”

“Mine’s Rarity.”

“Rarity...” His smile wavered, but only for an instant. “Well, ma’am, are you?”

I had heard some variant of that line from eleven other ponies now. I had actually thought it was cleaver the first time.

“Well sir, there’s nopony else like me,” I replied, laughing just enough to be convincing, “but I’m easy enough to have, if you’d like.” I winked at him, giggled, and then pulled back, bringing up the pitcher in my magic. “I’ll be right back, darling. If there’s anything else I can get you just let me know.”

“Ah... yes ma’am,” he replied.

I felt his attention on my tail as I trotted off. By now the dancing and dwindled on the floor before us, and I left Midnight alone to go help stow the lighting equipment in our safe room. By the time I returned to the bar, our more regular guests had wandered off, satisfied with the evening’s events or else too drunk to want anything more. The stallions and mares who wanted to stay the night had already found a mare and galloped into bed. Midnight was gone. The hall was empty, save for White and I. The music drowned out the laughs and moans in the rooms around us.

“I’m sorry sir,” I said, whisking his empty glasses away in my magic. “Looks like it’s about closing time.”

“Huh? But-?”

“If you want me to keep serving you, we’ll have to continue upstairs.” I leaned closer to him, smirking. Despite myself, I was excited. I liked White Wind. I was glad he was still alive, and I had enjoyed being with him for those few days. I was eager to eat his love again, if I could.

His face, already flushed, turned crimson, but he smiled. “Yes ma’am, I’d like that very much.”

* * * * *

It was better than the first time, physically, now that I knew what I was doing. Or it should have been. I couldn’t relax. The tension inside of me would not release. I kept replaying the days I had spent with him in my mind, wondering, worrying. What happened to you after I left?

I could not focus on my feeding either. No love came from him, and even his desire for me had dwindled as we went on. He grunted, and I moaned, but we were both acting. His feelings were clear to me. The alcohol, this lovemaking, it was a facade. He was trying desperately to avoid something—to avoid drowning in his feeling.

“White Wind,” I said. What did I do to you?

He stopped. “Ma’am?”

I turned my face toward him. We were still pressed together. “Are you alright?” I asked.

“N-no.”

He slumped, the shreds of his facade blowing away. He took a step back, trying to apologize.

“Didn’t mean t’ waste your time—”

“No, you’re not—” I took his hoof in mine, pulling back toward me. We ended up cuddling together on the bed, me wrapped in his embrace. The heat between us was already extinguished. I felt his confusion; his hope; the echoes of his embarrassment.

“Am I... that obvious?”

“I’m very good at reading pony’s emotions.”

A moment passed.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“Do ya really care?”

“I’m not alright either right now.”

“Oh... I couldn’t tell.”

I patted the hoof he had draped over my shoulder. “I’m very good at my job.” He gave a short laugh, then sighed.

“I just... I’m alone right now. I haven’t been alone for a long time. I came to the Fields to get away from all the bullshit up north, and it’s... it’s quieter here, like they all say. Less wildlife, almost no raiders, ponies got a reliable source of food... but—” His grip on me tightened. I felt him shaking.

“I had two friends,” he said. “Grime and Tango. They... we found a pegasus, wandering around in Enclave armor. We took her in; she was lookin’ for her ma, and we let her tag along. Shit, I didn’t even know her name... I just called her missy, ‘n’ she never offered anything else. She and I hooked up, but... she left a day later. Didn’t even say goodbye. Tango, well, she thought it was because she was anxious to find her old lady—we’d heard the place she was at might have been attacked. It made sense, but, well, I wanted to find her again. I liked her. I thought she liked me, but I guess—maybe she just needed some comfort. Something like this.”

I was filled with shame. I had used him. I was still using him, even as he was using me. This was deceit. I was no better than Chrysalis.

“We tried to find her, to track her down. I... I mostly pushed for it... we... we went as far as going up to that Stable... New Canterlot, I heard they used to call it. You ever been that way?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t open my mouth. I would burst into tears if I tried.

“There’s a swamp, lots of mud and low trees, between the Stable and the Fields. It... it’s got a few monsters in it. Taintigators... one of ‘em...” He was crying now, his words coming in short bursts. “I didn’t... see it coming—”

“I’m sorry.” I turned, letting him bury his head in my chest and hugging him. We stayed like that for a long time, him sobbing and clutching at my mane. All I could do was hold him, stroking his coat.

“I miss ‘em. I miss ‘em more than anything. I knew... our luck was gonna run out sooner or later, but I... I just don’t want to be alone...”

* * * * *

I woke first the next morning. White Wind was beside me, our bodies having moved apart as we slept. I studied his face. He had a small scar below his left eye, and a larger one running down his neck, still almost invisible underneath his coat. I waited, listening to him breath. I felt nothing from him; emotional silence. He was not dreaming, then. Sometimes, when I had been with other clients, I had been awoken by a sudden surge of emotions. Even if they did not move or murmur, I could sense the intensity of their dreams. I had felt nothing from White Wind after he had drifted off. A peaceful sleep; it felt a little like death.

I was aware of his return to consciousness before he was. He smiled at me. I smiled back.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Rarity.”

I felt, then, something I had never quite felt before. A profound energy emanated from him, pure and genuine. I lapped at his gratitude, unsure, and then drank deeply. I shivered as electricity shot through my veins. It was not love for me, or love for a pony, but something focused more inward. I let it fill me. Gratitude. Contentment. A bittersweet peace. He was thankful for me, for simply talking. For showing him he was not alone.

We ate breakfast together. I was not on waitress duty, so I could afford to stay with him. We did not speak much. He gave me a few anecdotes about life in Appleloosa, and Manehatten, and I gave him a few about my time in Seeds. He finished his meal, and stood up, leaving caps on the table.

“Thank you, Rarity,” he said again. His rifle was slung over his back, along with his saddle bags. He had carried nothing else with him from the swamp.

“What are your plans now?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” He frowned. “I don’t think I can stay here, but I don’t know where else to go. I’d been thinking... well, I was thinking about simply wandering off into the wilderness and dying, but now... I might just go explore. Head south and see what’s beyond those mountains. Can’t be any worse than what’s up north, I figure.”

I nodded, unsure how I felt. Part of me wanted him to stick around. Another part of me was happy I wouldn’t have to keep deceiving him.

“Oh, almost forgot!” He stuck his nose into his saddlebag. A moment later he levitated something out of them, and offered it to me. I took it in my magic, suppressing my surprise. It was a tiny statuette of Applejack, the Ministry Mare. Applejack, the Element of Honesty. Applejack, one of the ponies who killed us.

No, that was Chrysalis. That was another life.

“Oh! Thank you!” I smiled, taking it in my magic. It felt... cold somehow, like it was trying to suck away at my magical power.

“It’s nothing. Just a trinket I found in New Appleloosa. Figured you’d appreciate it.”

“Thank you!” I set his gift down on the table and moved forward, giving him one last quick hug.

“See you around, miss—ah, ma’am. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

I watched him leave, then gathered up our dishes and brought them to the kitchen. I took the idol White Wind had given me and brought it back to my room, ignoring the other patrons still gathered in the hall. I set it on my vanity, staring at the little orange face. I reached out with my magic. It was definitely cold to touch. The sensation was on the edge of my perception, but it was there.

Strange.

There was a knock at the door. I turned around to find Midnight skittering inside, a mischievous smile on her lips. She shut the door behind herself and stepped toward me.

“You better not be in love with him.”

“I’m no—”

“Because it’s one thing to not tell clients, it’d be quite another thing to lead somepony on when the emotional stakes are real.”

“I don’t think he’s coming back—”

“What? Are you still that bad? There’s no way—”

“Midnight we talked—”

“About what?”

“I—the pony I was when I first met him, I... I abandoned him, and he went looking for me. It ended up getting his friends killed. I just wanted to... do what I could to apologize.”

“Alright, Worker, I believe you.” She sat back on her haunches, brow furrowed. “You still can’t lead him on though. A few more emotional talks and you’ll be dating, like it or not. That’s why we try to juggle the talkers around. Ponies still do fall in love that way.”

“Midnight. I know how this works.” I dropped my disguise. “That is how my entire species survived before the war.” She put her hooves up defensively.

“Okay, you’re right, I just...” She glanced down at the floor. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“A few of the others...”

“They still don’t like me.”

“Yeah... or, they don’t trust you. I have to keep talking them out of their bad ideas. They still think you want to eat them a little bit."

“I see...” I sighed. It didn’t surprise me, but I was still disappointed. I had hoped to have earned at least everyone’s tolerance by now, if not their acceptance.

“It’s nothing to worry about. They talk less and less about it. It’s not any of our friends either. I’m just making sure I have a story for when they ask about you acting weird at breakfast.”

“Okay. Thanks... I think.”

She shrugged, then frowned. “It feels a bit like spying on you, to be honest. Or babysitting them.” She sighed. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you’re not doing anything stupid. I have to get back down there, Worker.”

“Wait. Midnight?”

“Yes?” She turned back to me, raising an eyebrow.

“You know, you don’t have to be my friend. I mean, I like you, I’m glad your my friend, but f the others don’t trust you because of me... Just promise you won’t take any bullets for me, alright?”

She smiled. “I promise. But Worker, I like being your friend too.” I took in her love, feeling relieved and flattered by its intensity.

She trotted off without another word. I went to wash myself before following her. Midnight’s words had been encouraging, but they had also broken the morning’s serenity. The world was still a ruin, my life here stable but tenuous. I stared at the small Applejack, wondering why it bothered me so much.

The Element of Honesty. An ironic gift.

I closed my eyes, reaching out for the cold spot with my mind. It was... small. Somehow less than a full feeling. It was an echo, the faded silhouette of a feeling. It felt, in some way, like the inverse of Unity. Whereas Trixie had too many minds swimming inside her own, this thing was only the suggestion of one. It was a fraction of a mind. A fraction of an emotion. A shard of something once whole. I tried to dive deeper into it, and simply passed through. I could not eat it, nor interact with it in any way. The coldness was as much a part of the idol as a stain was to our floorboards.

I pulled away, a sudden disgust overwhelming me. Touching it had reminded me of Unity, and other memories from that day threatened to burst back into my mind.

“It’s over,” I told myself. “This is my life now.” Yet still the idol was cold.

I trotted downstairs and then went outside. I remembered feeling Rolling’s death. I had watched as he and the mind of every other unicorn was taken apart and put back together, never truly dying, yet no longer were they alive. Their minds only imprints from which to build Unity’s newest puppets. Aware of their place in Unity yet unaware of their selves.

I shook my head, but I could not stop thinking. I remembered my pain. My disguise had only delayed the effects of the damage I had taken in my fight with Gleaming. My magic had faltered. I remembered crawling on the ground, green blood oozing from my wounds. I trotted faster, passing the hotel and the few local vendors around it. I ignored the ponies milling around me.

I felt bile at the back of my throat. I had not had enough food to produce the goo that would mend my wounds. I had made my way to the nearest body, a Steel Ranger. They had no potions on them. No bandages or anything I recognized as medicine. I needed to heal myself. I needed matter. I needed substance. I had eaten that pony, ripping the flesh off his bones and vomiting up the green webbing onto myself until the darkness around my vision had receded.

I shook my head, trying to push the images away. To rid myself of the taste. I headed for the town’s entrance, grateful for the blaring spritebot symphony. I did not stop walking until I was in their midst. The volume was enough to hurt my ears, and I drowned in it. I thought about nothing, focusing only on the music, humming its tune. I was alone here, deep in painful meditation. Nothing else but sound reached me.

The noise stopped.

My eyes sprung open, ears ringing in the silence. The spritebots were moving. Twisting and turning, they strained against their restraints, the faint whirring of their motors accumulating into a deep buzz. They were surrounding me, I realized. They were all trying to look at me.

“Rarity?” The voice blasted from the speakers around me. I drew back in shock. “Rarity!?”

What the hell?

“Rarity is that you? How—!? Rarity answer me!”

“I... I... who...?”

“It’s me! Rarity it’s.. Oh, oh Celestia... Rarity please...”

Are they... crying? The voice wept, its sighs and sobs taking on a metallic wail as they filtered through the spritebot speakers.

“Who are you?” I managed to say.

“I’m... Rarity, it’s me. It’s Spike.”

Spike?

I wracked my brain. I knew the name... no, Chrysalis knew the name. He had been there on that day, at the Canterlot wedding. I had never seen him; I had been with Fugax and Maggy. He had been Twilight Sparkle’s scribe. He was a dragon. A dragon.

“Spike?” I asked hesitantly. “Is that... really you?”

“Yes! Yes, Rarity, it’s me. I... oh I’m so sorry, I should have been there, I should have saved you, I—how... how did you survive? How... what have you been doing? Where... why are you down there? What—?”

“Spike, please!” I covered my ears. The sound from all the spritebots was too much. My head had started pounding. I glanced around. “Just... calm down, please. I... how are you talking to me?”

“Oh, sorry.” The voice came from only one spritebot now. I focused my attention on it. “Is this better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

In the newfound quiet I was finally able to think again. Spike was a dragon. A dragon who would remember Rarity, her friends, and everything they had done together. He would remember Chrysalis and her hive. I could trick him for a while, maybe get love if we ever met, but he would see through my ruse in time. I had no convincing story to tell him, no way to guess at what Rarity had acted like, and once the shock wore off he would no doubt start to deduce what I really was. It was inevitable. Rarity would have died from natural causes by now, if she had not perished in the war. That I could disguise as her at all was a mystery had I not the slightest clue how to solve. If I could not explain it to myself, what hope had I to dupe someone else?

And what would I gain? Spike was a dragon. I remembered dragons. I had no chance against him in a fight, and he would be angry at best once he realize what I was. I had nothing to gain from him, I realized, and everything to lose.

“Rarity? Just stay there. I’ll... I’ll come get you! Just stay safe. Don’t go anywhere, I promise I’ll fly right there—!”

“No!” I said. “N-no, Spike. Don’t do that.”

“What? But why?”

“Spike... how long as it been since the war ended?”

“What? About... two-hundred years. Why?”

“How long—?”

“Rarity, what happened to you? Did you time-travel or something?”

“How long do ponies live?” I asked firmly.

The spritebot stared at me blankly, bobbing up and down asynchronously in the midst of its horde. A few wisps of wind swept by me, and I felt the air begin to heat slightly as morning inched on toward noon.

“What are you?” The voice was slower now, more controlled. Even through the filter of the machine’s speaker I heard rage and despair mixed into the undertones. I glanced around. Nopony else was within earshot, but I saw a few figures meandering around what passed for Seed’s marketplace.

“A changeling,” I whispered. “I’m a changeling.”

“A changeling!? You... you’re still... around? What are you doing? Why do you look like Rarity? If you’re trying to make things worse, I swear I’ll stop you. Answer me!”

“I’m just... surviving. I’m just trying to get by. I’m not hurting anypony.” I would need to be careful. I did not want to risk the malice of a dragon.

“Why should I believe you? What are you doing to survive, huh? I know how changelings work. You can’t live without sucking the love from somepony else. Who are you hurting?”

“I am not hurting anypony!” The words came out louder than I had intended. I clamped my mouth shut, embarrassed by how much his question stung. I didn't mean to hurt anybody.

“Changeling. Explain. What. You are doing.”

“I work at a brothel. That’s how I sustain myself. I’m not hurting anypony. It’s all pretend anyway.”

“You—you’re using Rarity for that—how could you do that to her!?”

“Would you rather I use someone alive? Would you rather I keep somepony trapped under my bed, encased in goo for the rest of their life while I cavort around in their image? Because otherwise, no one wants to love a changeling. The best I get is tolerance, even from my friends.” I was exaggerating, of course, but I did not have time for nuance. Midnight liked me, Surprise and Rolling Stone had been my friends, but those were exceptions. My other coworkers thought of me as a freak, I was sure. Bootstrap no doubt thought of me as a curiosity, Hoochie Coochie as a good business deal. Exceptions. They were all exceptions.

And yet I keep finding more and more of them...

“That’s not—you can’t—” Spike sputtered. “You tried to take over Equestria, you tried to kidnap Twilight! You—”

“Will you listen to me?” I asked him, my voice low. “Will you let me explain?”

“Why should I? Why shouldn’t I fly down there and burn you all away!?”

I swallowed my fear. It was an empty threat. I could disappear if it came to that, and there was no way a full-grown dragon could ever sneak up on me.

“I told you who I am,” I said. “I could have lead you on. I could have drained your love.”

“You—you...”

“Just let me explain...”

* * * * *

“So you’re all that’s left?” He asked after I had recounted my tale.

“Yes,” I said. “Chrysalis is dead. I’m the last one.”

“And... and you’ll be the last one, forever?” A cold pit formed in my stomach. For a moment, it stopped me from speaking.

“Yes,” I whispered. I had not thought much about the fact that I was the last changeling. Fugax and Chrysalis persisted, but they had become things different. I was the last of what we had once been. I was surviving, but nothing more. I had found a third way, but would I outlast them? Would I do anything but persist, as they did? Would I decay like they were?

“Alright, Worker, I... I believe you don’t want to hurt anypony...”

Dust whirled in the wind at my hooves.

“Spike,” I asked. “The Crystal Heart, what did it do?”

“It... it protected the Crystal Empire. It could banish evil, and restore happiness. But it only affected the Empire. It’s power never reached Equestria, not that I knew of. We had a plan... well, Twilight had an idea, that maybe it would help to bring the Crystal Heart to Equestira and empower the citizens, but Cadence wouldn’t allow it. It kept the snowstorms at bay. Without it the Empire would be inhospitable. Shining Armor agreed with her—it was one of the few things they agreed on, towards the end...”

“Why did Chrysalis want it?” I wondered aloud.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No. She mentioned it would restore Equestria, but... but she never gave specifics.”

“Even if she had managed to restore it, it won’t heal Equestria. I mean... maybe things have changed. It might make a difference... but it won’t fix the world.” His voice, however faintly, sounded hopeful. “Why do you ask? Are you thinking of...?”

I frowned. “I don’t know... I... look, I’m sorry for bothering you. Ponies know me as Rarity around here. I can’t change to anypony else at this point.”

“I understand, but... Worker, can you promise me something?”

“What?”

“Help. You have a lot of power. You know more about what happened than most ponies. You can help them make the world a better place for all of us.”

I sighed. “I... I can’t promise that. I just want to survive. I just want to live in peace.”

“So do we all, Worker. But that doesn’t happen unless we help each other. Unless we learn to live together.” I heard a final click, and then one by one the spritebots resumed their song. By the time they had reach full volume I was trotting away, head spinning as I processed everything I had just learned.

* * * * *

I stepped back inside the brothel. A unicorn was using his magic to send four rubber balls spinning around his head. As I walked by the spell sputtered out, and the balls dropped to the floor. His friends laughed at him as he scrambled to pick them up.

“Shit!” He said. “That shit keeps happening more and more lately. What the hell?”

“You got performance issues!” one of his friends exclaimed. “You’re losing’ your balls!” Their laughed erupted behind me, lost in the main hall’s chatter.

I did not reach out for their happiness. I was too deep in thought. Spike. The Crystal Heart. Chrysalis. Fugax. White Wind. Applejack. New Canterlot. Midnight. My life swirled through my head, all the decisions I’d made, everything that had happened to me, what did it amount to? Is this the life I wanted? Was this enough?

A sudden surge of love jolted me back to reality. I turned to see Bricabrack trotting toward me, a red rose in the mouth. He presented it to me, smiling. I felt his excitement, his hope. I took it in my magic.

“To match your beauty,” he said.

“Ooh thank you!” I said automatically. “You’re too kind.”

“Are you available tonight, Rarity? I was hopin’...”

I almost said yes. My earlier vision stopped me, the one of our life together, me, a parasite, he, an ignorant host. He would die, thinking I loved him back, and I would move on, if I could. Or we would travel the Wasteland, and die to raiders or monsters, or starvation. Or I could stay here, and be a parasite to a thousand more ponies like him.

A sudden panic seized me. I had been wrong before, I knew. I was no better than Chrysalis this way. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life here, deceiving ponies like White Wind, or Bricabrack. Here was only stagnation. I had seen all that this life would give me. The best I would get was this moment, right here: one fool fawning over me, and me using him as food.

I can’t do this anymore.

“No, I’m sorry Brick—I’ve been rather sick lately. I wouldn’t want you getting infected.”

He was crestfallen, but understanding. He offered some kind words, and then I retreated to my room. I stared at the small Applejack figure. It was still cold, but somehow... less present. I could almost ignore the sensation now. I pursed my lips, and then started digging through my closet. I pulled out my saddlebags and two articles of clothing. The first was a dress: dull grey and sewn together with deep green thread, I had picked the colors to blend into the scenery of the wasteland. The second was a suit of armor.

I had made the armor myself. Using what caps I did make, I had bought some rather expensive material that could stretch and squeeze while retaining its integrity. I had sown together strips of the material into the loose form of my neck, torso, and legs so that when I put it on it made a checkered pattern. I had then sewn squares of thick leather over the pattern. I had salvaged or traded for a number of steel plates, which I hammered roughly into shape and then bolted into the leather. The end result was a piecemeal suit of armor that covered me nearly perfectly when I was undisguised, and could expand with me as I assumed larger forms. It would have gaps then, but some protection was better than none. It would be a hindrance if I ever turned into a foal, but I had abused that trick more times than I was comfortable with. The element of surprise was a fickle ally at best.

I had started making my armor almost as soon as I had started working for Hoochie Coochie. I was preparing, I told myself, for the inevitability of discovery. I would need to flee eventually. I had completed it shortly before Midnight had walked in on me, and then, after realizing it might not be necessary, I had let myself forget about it.

I was wrong.

I donned my armor, then put the dress on over it. I had cut holes near the joins for mobility—it was not a fashion piece. It was meant to blend in and, failing that, give ponies the false impression that I was unarmed. I slung my saddlebag over my back. In it was a kitchen knife, pistol, ten bullets, and a few bags of dried oats. I added the books I owned and one extra dress. I placed the Applejack statuette into one of the deeper pockets. I didn’t really want to take it with me, but I didn’t want to throw away White Wind’s gift. I wanted it as a reminder.

I knocked on Midnight’s door. She frowned when she saw me.

“Worker? Where did you get that awful dress?”

“It’s mine,” I said. “I’m leaving.”

She blinked at me. It was the first time I had seen her look surprised. “Leaving? You’re quitting?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m quitting. I’m leaving Seeds.” Saying it released a tension I didn’t know was in me. I couldn’t take back my decision now.

“Why? Where are you going?”

“There’s no love here... or, not enough. I can live here, but I'm not happy. And I don't want to lie about myself anymore. I’m going to check on a few things. Tie up some loose ends, as it were. After that... well after that I need to find some friends. Ponies like you, who can accept me. Honestly, the love I get from us being friends is the best thing I’ve had from anypony here. I just... I just wanted to say thank you.”

I thought about passing off the Applejack statue to her, but before I could move Midnight hugged me. I was startled by the sudden embrace, but after a moment I was happy to return it. When we split apart I saw her eyes shimmer.

“You know, that’s one of the nicest things anypony’s ever said to me. But also one of the stupidest.”

“Oh,” I said, taken aback. “Really?”

“Yes. We’re friends, Worker, and you think you can just up and leave like this? Give me a minute—” She zipped back into her room.

“What?” I called after her. “What are you doing?

“I’m coming with you,” she said, reemerging with her own set of saddlebags. She had a leather vest and two pistol holders, but nothing else.

“You’re coming with me?”

“Yes, I’m coming with you.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s always best to come together!” she said, grinning.

“What?”

“Worker, why are you leaving?”

“I... well because I don’t want to be here anymore, I guess.”

“And likewise. I’ve only got a few years in me before my features start sagging and Hoochie Coochie starts asking if I have anywhere to retire to. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get away for a few months now. Figured I’d run into a nice stallion or mare sooner or later and elope. That’s why I’ve been trying to get you to come out of your shell around the other girls—I was worried nopony else would be your friend once I was gone! Now I’ve got the perfect excuse to leave and I get to keep you around!”

“Oh.” It was all I could say.

“So, are you all ready to leave?”

“I... yeah, I guess so.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I, uh... shouldn’t we tell someone?”

Midnight frowned. Then shrugged. Then her smile returned. “Yes.”

* * * * *

“You’re what?” Hoochie Choochie exclaimed.

“We’re quitting!” Midnight said.

“Both of you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You’re quitting?”

“Yes.”

“You’re both quitting?”

“Yes. We are both quitting.”

"You're seriously both quitting?"

"Yes."

Hoochie stared at us, her face pulled between confusion and outrage. She was wearing fake eyelashes that were as long as my ears. They whooshed when she blinked.

“I’ve never had anypony quit on me before...” she muttered. “What do I do now?”

Midnight and I glanced at each other. We shrugged.

“Whatever you usually do, I guess. Just without us.”

Hoochie nodded as if I had said something wise, and then waved us out of her office. Midnight and I walked through the hall and out the door, ignoring the curious glances we got. I lead the way, heading for the road that connected the facilities of Fields. We passed the spritebot swarm, still bleating its unending melody. The massive swarm drifted in the wind, pulling gently at the cords that restrained it. I stood in front of them, at the intersection. The west road lead to Bulbs, and all that was behind it. The east lead to the blackened earth of Tubers, and then to the wider wasteland. We could go that way, into the unknown. I could forget everything had happened to me, and let the world go on in the same way it always had. But I had left too many things unfinished.

I’m sorry Rolling. I’m sorry Surprise.

I gave the spritebots one final glance. I turned west. I would help, I decided. I would try to make the world better for me by making it better for everyone. I would be better than Chrysalis.

After a few minutes, Midnight spoke:

“Worker, you never answered my question. Why do you have such an ugly dress?”

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Intense Training - Your experiences traveling in the Wasteland have allowed you to add one point to your Endurance.
Quest Perk: La Petite Mort, en masse - Ohh myyy. New dialogue options available with adults.
Quest Perk: Art of the Dress - A Proper Disguise is now 50% more likely to be convincing. +5 to Repair skill.

Author's Note

Fun fact, Worker becoming DJ-P0N3/Homage was an ending I considered when I first started this.

Chapter 15: Exodus

“Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair.”

“Are you leaving as well?”

The stallion Midnight spoke to was at the head of a small caravan of ponies. A few pulled carts behind them, and all were laden with supplies and weapons. We had seen two other groups on our way toward Bulbs, but none as large as this. They all told the same story.

“Aye,” said the stallion. “Lots more gunna be leavin’ after us. We just ain’t gunna wait around to start t’ starve first. You and yer... friend should plan t’ leave too.”

Midnight nodded. “We will. We just have a few errands to finish before we move on.”

The stallion shrugged. “Well, best of luck t’ you, ma’am.” He turned his head, whistling at the ponies behind him, and the caravan moved on. He gave me a brief nod before continuing down the road, but the other ponies who noticed me started for long enough to make me uncomfortable. I scooted closer to Midnight, giving her a light tap on the shoulder.

“Let’s get going. We’re almost there.”

She glanced at me, then back at the caravan. “Alright,” she said.

Against my better judgement, I was traveling undisguised. It was a test. I wanted to see how ponies would react to me. Being with Midnight would lessen the shock, I figured, even if they did not know what I was. Thus far, everypony we had encountered had had the same reaction. I was ignored, or gawked at, while whichever pony was the leader of the group addressed Midnight. The looks, at least, never lead to hostility, though I would not want to travel this way alone. Midnight was my shield against being perceived as a monster.

We reached Bulbs at noon. Our final goal was Professor Pitch’s laboratory, but since the facility was along the way I wanted to stop for the night and see what information I could gather. I had decided to look for the Crystal Shards where I could. I only needed to find one or two. Then Chrysalis would come to me, and I would make sure she didn’t do anything stupid with them. That was my long-term goal. That and killing Fugax next time I ran into him, if he didn’t self-destruct before then.

“So why are we heading to Bulbs?” Midnight asked when I had first explained my plans.

“I want to check on a few things, especially now that ponies are leaving. Why are they running out of food? The plantations seemed pretty robust before the NCs took over, and they seemed fine after, so what changed? Also, it’s still worth asking if anyone knows anything about the Crystal Heart, even if it’s unlikely we’ll get any good information.”

“Where was the Crystal Empire, Worker? Are there any ponies left there?”

“It’s to the north... a long ways away. And...” I searched my memories. “It was the last bastion of peace and stability after the war. Chrysalis sent some of the Hive to get love there. We were discovered, and I don’t know what happened after that. It was in decline though.”

“Hmm. Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing it. I’ve never been farther north than Baltimare.”

“Me too,” I said. “At least in this life.”

When Bulbs came into clear view, I stopped. The flat metal walls loomed on the horizon. The plantation behind it was hidden by the hills, but even in the dwindling light I could make out a few ponies wandering back and forth between the two areas. I could not remember if I had spent any time at the facility before seeking out Seeds. Maybe briefly, but my memories of that time were simply gone, so starved had I been. This time I had plenty of energy in reserve, and Midnight’s friendship to sustain me. I turned to look at her. She tilted her head at me.

“Why’re we stopping?”

“I think I should disguise,” I said. “I’ve been here the most. I don’t want the wrong ponies to recognize me.”

“Who would recognize you? Did they ever learn you were a changeling?”

“Well, Garlic is dead, and so are most of his underlings who saw me. Tulip as well, probably. She was with the Steel Rangers when they fought New Canterlot. Even if she is alive, I doubt she’d be here. Cathode might know what I was, if she’s well by now. But she only got a brief glimpse. Spare Parts... Spare Parts I thought was dead, but she ended up in New Canterlot with a bunch of other conscripts. So now she probably is dead...” I frowned, a buried memory coming back to me. “Regardless, the whole marketplace saw me undisguised after I got kicked in the head. I don’t know what happened after that. I was concussed, so all I remember is waking up in one of Garlic’s cells. But that’s a lot of ponies watching me get dragged out to the plantation. I’m sure the story spread.”

“Maybe they forgot about it in that little war of theirs. Or when the NCs took over.”

“Maybe...”

“But did you do anything other than get dragged off?”

“Well, I don’t remember... I might have fought back...”

“Ponies fight all the time. Nothing unusual about that.”

“But I was unusual. Ponies can see I’m not like them. I look like a monster to them.”

“So long as you didn’t start attacking random bystanders, I think you’re fine. Even if ponies do recognize you, what are they going to do? Kill us? They’re a city, not a bunch of raiders or some mindless mob. Even in Seeds we took pride in holding onto the last scraps of civility we had left. If they don’t want us around, they’ll kick us out. Then we can just move on to Maize or wherever you’re planning to go next.”

“Yes, but—”

“Worker.” Midnight smiled at me. “You told me you wanted to make friends with ponies. This is how to starts. And I’m here to vouch for you. We can do this together.”

“Alright,” I said, sighing. I started forward again, doing my best to suppress my shivering as anxiety wracked me. Midnight trotted beside me at a relaxed gait. I could feel the confidence in her mind. And the hints of amusement. I wanted to ask her what she found funny about this situation, but I was afraid of whatever I would say coming out as a squeak. I needed to calm down. I needed to breathe. Act normal, I told myself. Whatever that meant.

Bulbs glowed in the evening light, its shadow long against the dirt behind it. Just like the first time I had come to the facility, a guard stopped us before the entrance. This mare was lavender, with blue spots on her flank. She frowned at Midnight.

“What the hell is that?” she asked, pointing at me.

“She my friend,” Midnight said, taking a step forward.

The mare raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s a changeling, right?” she asked. “Has it told you—?”

“I know what she is,” Midnight said. “We’ve been friends for quite a while now.”

“So you’ve been feeding it?” The mare made a disgusted face.

Midnight glanced at me. “Sure, she’s my friend. What’s wrong with that? It’s not like you can run out of good feelings.”

The mare stared at me, still cringing. I smiled back, heart racing. She turned back to Midnight, sighing.

“Ugh... I’ll let you in, but don’t let the changeling out of your sight. And if we find you impersonating anypony, you’ll have to answer for it. We already had an incident with one of them. Don’t make any trouble.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Midnight said.

The guard escorted us into the city. As we passed through the gate, something beeped at me. Another of the guard ponies raised an eyebrow, but the lavender mare told him she had cleared me. The stallion shrugged, then nodded at Midnight.

“Welcome to Bulbs, ladies,” he said.

“They don’t even recognize me,” I muttered once we were out of earshot.

“Are you disguised as a different changeling?” Midnight asked.

“No,” I said. “We all look identical.”

“Huh. Must be the dress.

* * * * *

The first place we went was the market. It was sparser than when I had first seen it. There was still plenty of foodstuff, but most of the auxiliary stalls were gone. There was no Berry Wears to be seen. I got several strange looks, but nopony seemed curious enough to stop us. What struck me was the quiet. It was not silent, ponies still conversed, but the sounds they made echoed in the empty air. Each syllable lasted long enough to emphasize how few voices were actually speaking. It made the space feel empty. The air was cold.

“Another one?” somepony near us said.

“Hell, they got mares too?”

I would have laughed, but I was too nervous. My instincts told me I needed to avoid attention. But if I wanted ponies as friends, I would have to be myself all the time. I could feel their gazes burning into the back of my skull. I would just have to get used to it. I quickened my pace, and ducked into the stairwell. My claustrophobia had lessened significantly since I had last been here, but the cramped quarters still made my chest tighten. It was a welcome relief from the marketplace.

Midnight yawned. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Well,” I said, yawning with her. “It’s getting late. First we’ll get a room for the night, then we can ask if anyone knows about the Crystal Empire. Or about Chrysalis, though I doubt she would have come to the Fields.”

“That’s not much to go on...”

“I know, but it’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll find out what there is to be known, and then improvise. It’s what I’m good at.”

“Alright. So where are we going to get lodging?”

“I know a place.”

* * * * *

Light Ray was behind his conveyor belt bar when we walked in. All signs of the NCs’ decorations were gone, but it seemed no one had bothered to replace them with anything. The walls were bare, making the whole place seem desolate. I glued myself to Midnight’s side, my nerves finally getting the better of me. There were several other ponies scattered about the room sitting at refurbished wood tables. Most starred, and a few started muttering to each other, but no one stopped us until Midnight stepped up to the bar proper. Ray had been staring at us, bug-eyed, since the moment we walked in.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked.

Midnight gave a playful tisk. “She is my friend. I hope you don’t greet all your patrons like that. Or do you not need the business? With all those empty lots down there, I’m sure this place is booming.”

“Oh don’t give me any a’ that shit,” Ray said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t jus’ waltz in here with a whateverthefuck and not expect people t’ ask questions.

“Hey, that’s another a’ them Changelings!” one of the ponies behind us shouted. “Looks just like tha one the NCs dragged off.” I turned my head toward her, brow furrowed. Even she didn’t realize I was the same person? Was my battle regalia really so deceptive?

“Shit, should we call Cathode?”

“Lady, d’ya know what those do to ya?”

Midnight swiveled around to defend me. Everyone in the bar was focused on us, but only one of the ponies had stood up. The rest watched from where they had been sitting, concerned but not scared. Only one seemed to be angry, but I could sense just as much confusion. I turned back to Ray as Midnight started addressing their comments. The stallion only frowned at the commotion, raising an eyebrow as he formulated his thoughts.

“Alright. Alright!” he shouted over the crowd. The room quieted. Midnight turned back to him.

“Look, ain’t none of my business what you’re doing t’gether, but the last time one of them things showed up it caused quite the panic. Somepony almost killed their friend because they thought he was actin’ weird. Hell, Wattson still won’t let anypony into the generator room, and he wasn’t even there. I don’t know who let you in t’ the city, but I don’t want you stayin’ here. I don’t want your business. Who’s t’ say your not a changeling yourself, ma’am? You both could be deceivin’ us by lookin’ honest. I don’t see any sense in riskin’ the trouble.” Behind us, the crowd murmured their agreement.

I sighed. I’d feared a response like this. I feared worse, actually. After being on the receiving end of his wrath, the civility of Ray’s rejection surprised me. I knew of one way I could gain his sympathy, but it was equally likely to bring out his anger. His reaction thus far made me believe he wouldn’t become violent, so I decided I had nothing to lose by trying to persuade him.

“Light Ray,” I said, speaking for the first time. “Tumbleweed didn’t save Spare Parts. I did.”

Shock; anger; confusion. I saw the emotions play out on his face. Then his mind found an understanding, and his eyes widened. “That... that was you?” I nodded. “That... that makes a helluva lot of sense, actually. But then... hey you got my kid sister shot!” He slammed a hoof down onto the converted conveyor belt between us. I heard several other ponies stand up behind me. We were surrounded.

“I didn’t ask her to defend me!” I said, putting my hooves up to wad him off. “Look, I... back then I didn’t care about anypony but myself, but she helped me. She believed I was actually Tumbleweed and she helped me anyway. When... when you came to confront Garlic, I thought she was dead. I realized I was sad, because she had helped me and gotten hurt for it. If it weren’t for her, I... I think I’d still be trying to deceive ponies. I’m trying to be honest now. She was right about ponies being able to change.”

Silence hung between us. Finally Ray sighed, backing down. “Dammit, Parts...”

“I was there, at New Canterlot,” I whispered. “I saw her there.”

“That? Oh, shit... yeah the NCs swung by after they got smashed at Tubers. They ‘conscripted' a bunch of ponies who were workin’ the plantation that day. Happened so fast nopony knew what happened.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t able to do anything to stop the fighting. I... I couldn’t save her.”

At this Ray looked puzzled, then he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh don’t you fret about that. She made it through, safe and sound. Hell, I took off after those bastard’s as soon as I heard what they did, but by the time I got there t’was all over. Parts was helpin’ them bury their dead, bless her bleedin’ heart. I didn’t know whether t’ hug her or yell at her for tryna help her captors again.”

I blinked. Now it was my turn to be confused. “Oh... I assumed...” I felt a sudden flush of relief. “Well thank goodness. I thought everypony who was fighting died there.”

Ray shook his head, sobering. “Plenty did, but she was smart... or lucky, I guess. Always made sure t’ keep somepony else in front of her. Course, it’s a shame that they probably died for her, but I ain’t gunna lie and say I ain’t prepared to kill a few dozen t’ keep her alive under normal circumstances.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there when you did it the first time, ha ha...” My laughter petered out as soon as it left my mouth. A new kind of silence hung in the room.

“Guess you’re right... I already did...” he muttered.

Midnight cleared her throat. “So, about that room?”

“Oh, uh...” Another murmur passed through the ponies around us. “I’m still not sure it—”

“Well fuck me six ways from sunday. Ya’ll couldn’t help but crawl back t’ me, huh?”

The new voice boomed from behind us. Cold panic swept through me as I spun toward it. The rest of the room followed my gaze as the double-door swung closed behind the pony who had just entered. She had an eyepatch over the right side of her face, and a new scar that crawled out from beneath it, running down to her neck and up to her mane. She wasn’t wearing her battle saddle or any barding, but had a shiny bronze star stuck onto her chest. Spare Parts was not the only one who had survived Unity’s scourging. Hairpins had made it through, same as me. Her smile was as wide as it had ever been, and it only grew wider as she approached Midnight and I. I couldn’t tell if it was vicious or genuine. My mind was too busy mapping out a battle plan to read her emotions. I could trust Midnight to fight with me, but I didn’t think we could kill enough to stop the alarm from getting out—

“Pins!” Midnight squealed, trotting forward to embrace the former slaver. They squeezed each other, then parted, giggling. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Shit, girl, ah run th’ place now! Nopony else wanted th’ job after ah got back from the war, so ah went ahead and started playin’ sheriff. Ah should be askin’ what you are doin’ here. They finally run you outta Seeds?”

Midnight laughed. “Oh, no, I just decided to see a bit more of the world. And you, Pins? Sheriff? Really? Things truly are falling apart around here, aren’t they?”

“Hah.” Her smile cooled. “Well, yeah. Things ain’t going too well here. Anywhere, frankly. Nothin’ we c’n do but move on, turns out...” Midnight raised an eyebrow, but Hairpins didn’t elaborate. Instead she said, “so how’d ya end up with him?” She pointed her chin toward me, acknowledging me for the first time. “Nice dress, by th’ by.” She winked at me.

“What? Oh, we—”

The door burst open again. Cathode stumbled through, eyes wide. “Sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean t’ take so long. Mister Lichen needed some help with his—” She stopped, eyes widening. “Oh dear. Another one?” I smiled despite myself. Cathode had a few more scars, but she was one of the few ponies who seemed to be universally nice to everyone around her, and I was glad she had recovered from her previous injuries.

“Nah,” Hairpins drawled. “Th’ same that ah told ya’ll about. No need t’ fret over him, though I don’t think ya’ll shoulda jus’ let a changeling pass without lettin’ me talk t’ ‘im. But this here’s an old friend, Midnight. We both grew up in Tubers.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Midnight said, shaking Cathode’s hoof.

“A-ah, yes—”

“I’m sorry for the trouble I caused,” I blurted, stepping up to shake her hoof as well. Cathode took it instinctively, then looked shocked that she had done so.

“Ah, no hard feelings mister... uh, what trouble was that, again? Have we met?”

“Yes. Well, sort of,” I said. It seemed she had a few gaps in her memories as well. Maybe she hadn’t fully recovered from the battle after all...

Before I could decide how much of my involvement with Garlic’s overthrow I wanted to disclose, Midnight continued her conversation with Hairpins. “So, how do you know Worker, Pins?”

“He’s got a name—?”

“She enslaved me,” I said, interrupting. Midnight gasped, taking a step back.

“Boss enslaved ya’,” Hairpins said. Her smile was gone. “Ah wasn’t in any place t’ argue with him. You ‘n’ ah both paid tenfold fer our choices back then. Even b’fore the NCs got us we had no reason t’ keep quarrlin’, ‘n’ you know it.”

“Hairpins...” Midnight whispered. “You were a slaver?”

The orange mare huffed. “No. Ah did two runs, ‘n’ this bastard made sure the last went t’ shit. We needed th’ caps t’ get t’ Tenpony, that was all. Not a one of us coulda gotten honest work if we tried, ‘n’ not a one of us wanted t’ stay in the Fields a minute longer. Boss knew it was all goin’ t’ shit long b’fore the NCs decided to blow it half t’ Tartarus. Like ah said, ah’ve paid tenfold. Th’ others paid with their lives.”

“So they’re dead?” I asked.

“Yeah, Changeling.” Hairpins glowered at me, her lone eye smoldering with dark memories. “They’re all dead.”

I felt... very little. I wasn’t sure what I had expected—I had assumed them all dead, until Hairpins had returned. Learning that she was the only survivor of those original slavers felt somehow wrong. Incomplete. It was not a happy or sad fact to me, just an odd one.

“Why did Boss want to leave so badly?” I asked. “What’s wrong with the Fields?”

“Hold on,” Midnight interjected. “You can’t just gloss over this whole slaver business! Pins, explain yourself! Worker told me all about what you did to her—and Worker, why aren’t you upset about this?”

Hairpins narrowed her eyes at me, but a sly smile returned to her lips. “What story, dare ah ask, did th’ changelin’ see fit t’ tell about little ol’ me?”

“She told me about how you enslaved her! She didn’t use names, so I didn’t realize right away but—she told me that you killed a filly, and would have killed a few others if she hadn’t saved them all! And then you hunted her down, just for petty revenge! I cannot believe you are the same Hairpins I used to know. The things you did to her—”

“Midnight...” I realized I needed to diffuse the situation. The other ponies in the room were mumbling again, many looked shocked or outraged. If a fight broke out, I had no doubt one or two would decide to attack me simply on principal.

“What? Worker?”

I cleared my throat. “I... I might have exaggerated some parts. And left out others.” I hadn’t told her about leaving Tumbleweed for dead, and I had never bothered to specify which of the slavers had done what cruelty to me. For all I knew, Midnight was putting the blame solely on Hairpins; though I did feel she deserved a fair share of it. I had also neglected to tell her about Boss’s betrayal, and our interactions with the NCs.

Hairpins laughed. “Well, looks like we got some explaining t’ do...”

* * * * *

After hashing out the details of our history, the room seemed to calm somewhat. Our small group now sat at the bar, nursing a variety of drinks. The other patrons had returned to their own business, though a few of the more curious ponies lingered at a polite distance to listen to our conversation.

“Alright,” Midnight said. “So you didn’t give the beatings yourself, but you still helped this ‘Boss’ character. I’m still very disappointed in you, Pins.”

She shrugged. “Ah got in with unfortunate company. They were good ponies at first, but livin’ out there breaks everypony eventually. Jus’ th’ way it is.”

I frowned at that statement. “Got in? How long were you with them?”

She shrugged again. “Eight months, a year, maybe? Ah don’t recall exactly.”

“Oh. It seemed like you’d known them for longer.”

“When ya live as long as ah have, ya learn t’ make friends fast. They go quick.”

We sipped our drinks.

“Why?” Midnight asked. “Why join them in the first place?”

“Well, ah’d just got back t’ the Fields, was lookin’ fer work, ‘n’ Tumbleweed introduced me. They seemed like they were doin’ good work at th’ time. Boss was all about killin’ raiders back then. Hell, he’s the reason there’s so few of ‘em left in these parts. But... well, our luck just went sour. We killed the wrong pony around Tubers an’ they ran us out. We’d been avoiding Bulbs from th’ start on account a’ Tumbleweed’s feud with Garlic. That balefire egg that slagged Chard? The buck that did it bought the egg from Boss. Word spread that we were behind it, and soon we were banned from every major settlement in the Fields. We started scoutin’ out some border towns down south, past th’ swamps, but they ain’t got much of a civilization there. Make just enough t’ support themselves ‘n’ not much more. They had no room for us so we had t’ start tradin’ with th’ NCs.” Her brow furrowed as she spoke.

“Boss got in good with th’ prince, for a while. Ah think they might a’ met before, but they weren’t friends. His magic was th’ strongest they’d ever seen. Wanted t’ recruit him. They even housed us for a while, but that got old real quick. You know how they are: buncha assholes ‘n’ fanatics. Hell, ah’m right sure Boss knew early on they were workin’ with th’ zebra. But still, it wasn’t until they told us their little secret that we knew we needed t’ get outta dodge.”

“Secret?”

“About Garlic and his lot. About th’ Plantations and th’ Fields. It’s all a lie. The crops they’re growing? They ain’t rad-free. The magic Garlic and his kin said they were using t’ keep th’ ground healthy? It’s all a sham. Just a performance. Ah couldn’t believe mah ears when he first told me, but it’s true. Things have been growin’ just as well as they did b’fore you an’ that buck offed Garlic. Th’ crops are mutated and poisoned.”

Midnight blinked furiously, taken aback. She took a long drink of her whisky, and then stared at her glass, muttering to herself. I only frowned.

“Is that... a big deal?”

Hairpins shrugged. “Ya’ know, ‘s funny—knowin’ it was a lie doesn’t really change anything. Life’s th’ same as it was b’fore. ‘Cept now we understood why ponies around these parts don’t live as long as ponies in other parts of th’ Wasteland. We’re eatin’ up way more rads than we ought t’ be. Ah left th’ Fields when I was ten, so I didn’t ever think about it much, but it’s kinda obvious in hindsight. Everypony I knew growin’ up died a’ some form a cancer. Up north, it’s maybe one in four. If we include ponies who die by the bullet or the whip, one in seven, ah’d bet.”

“So that’s why everyone’s leaving. You told them.” The caravans made sense now. It might be more peaceful here, but the potential of a longer future seemed more enticing than the certainty of a short peace.

“That she did,” Ray stated, breaking back in to our discussion. “The land is poison. The Fields ain’t long for this world. It’s going from the Wasteland’s normal barren to dead and salted. Boss coulda saved us all a lot of trouble if he’d spread th’ word, y’know. Instead of trying to make a quick buck and skedaddle while we all die.”

“Ah never said ah had th’ best judgement of ponies... plus, we wanted t’ leave before the NCs started their little war.”

“Holy shit...” Midnight said. “I guess I picked the right time to fly the coop.”

“Well, yer welcome t’ come with us,” Hairpins drawled, returning to her easygoing demeanor. “Th’ last caravan leaves at th’ end a’ the week. We’re all makin’ preparations as we speak. Ah was thinkin’ a goin’ t’ Manehatten, or New Appleloosa. Tenpony’s too stuffy fer me, ah reckon.”

I shook my head. “No. We have other plans.”

“Like what?”

“We’re going to the Crystal Empire,” Midnight said before I could decide how much I wanted to explain to Hairpins. I shot her a horrified expression, but she seemed not to notice.

Hairpins froze for a moment before giving a delighted hoot. She fell onto her back, legs kicking in the air, laughing uncontrollably. Midnight frowned at me, then shrugged. I looked between her and Hairpins, then turned toward Ray. He only rolled his eyes.

“Uh, miss Hairpins?” Cathode prodded the cackling mare with a forehoof, but to no avail. She turned to us instead. “Why do you want to go all the way up there?”

I ignored her, instead stepping toward Hairpins with a sour look on my face. She had burnt through most of her initial reaction, and was now only giggling into a forehoof. I pushed her back onto her hooves, forcing her to acknowledge me.

“Why is that so funny?” I asked.

“Oh, no one particular reason...” she replied, wiping a tear from her eye. “Ah, but by Celestia, that is truly th’ last place ah expected t’ hear about again. What could ya’ll possibly want there? Ain’t nothin’ but snow. Snow an’ death.”

“How do you know that?” Midnight asked.

“Shit, ah been there!” Hairpins was suddenly somber. “Me ‘n’ a few assholes went up that way lookin’ fer treasure. Got as far as th’ caves before th’ cold ‘n’ monsters did most of us in. That’s how I knew Tumbleweed in the first place. I was with his cousin, Barbwire. Poor sap was too scared t’ try makin’ it back t’ the’ Fields with me. Then ponies ran me outta town before I could convince him otherwise. Figure he’s probably still there...”

I frowned at her story, recalling that I’d heard part of it before. “So you’ve gone all the way up there? Have you ever heard anything about the Crystal Heart?”

She cocked her head at me, eyeing me suspiciously. “That... is exactly th’ treasure we were tryin’ t’ find. But we didn’t get so much as a whiff of it. How’d you know about it?”

I glanced at the ponies around us. Most of their attention was still on us. I had hoped to diffuse the situation between Midnight and Hairpins and leave, but now that I knew she might have a connection to the Crystal Shards I wanted more information.

“It’s a long story,” I said. “Are you sure you didn’t find anything?”

“Ah can’t be too sure,” she drawled. “Mine’s a long story as well.”

I pursed my lips. I felt no humor from her, and she wasn’t smiling. Her response wasn’t just to mess with me. She was holding back. Did I want to tell her about Chrysalis? Did I want her to know my goals? I had told her as little as I needed in order to appease Midnight, but I was not comfortable divulging more to my former captor. I had not forgiven her. I doubted I would ever be able to trust her, despite how well I understood her. But I needed whatever information I could get...

“My Queen is looking for the Crystal Heart. It’s broken, and its pieces are scattered everywhere. Before... a short time ago, she had many of the pieces. I think we were close to completing it. I need to find one or two before she does. If she assembles it, I don’t know what will happen. She wants power. That’s all she’s ever wanted. And now she hates ponies more than she cares about living. She has nothing left. If she gets that power, I don’t know what she could do. But she wants to hurt ponies. All ponies.”

“Yer Queen?”

I went on to explain who Chrysalis was, our history, and her fate. Hairpins whistled when I finished.

“Well fuck me...”

“So, do you know anything?”

She nodded her head slowly, her vision on the distant past. “Ah reckon ah do, but ah don’t trust ya’ enough t’ say it.” Before I could protest she snapped her head up, nodding suddenly. She locked her one good eye on me. “Tell you what, ah’ll come with ya’. Ah know how t’ get that far North without any trouble, an’ I c’n help ya’ get through a bit a’ th’ caves. After that ah don’t know what we’ll find, but if we leave soon we should be able t’ beat yer queen t’ the Empire. Even if she can fly, there’s a lot in the Wasteland that c’n slow her down.”

I blinked in surprise. “Why would you want to come with us?” I asked.

“Because ah don’t trust ya’, an’ yer too honest t’ be being honest. Fer all I know you’ll just use that power t’ do worse than this Chrysalis, an’ ah got no qualms with killin’ ya’ if it comes t’ that.”

Cathode’s eyes widened, and she shot me a worried look. The room was silent around us.

“What if I killed you first?” I replied.

Hairpins shrugged. “Ah still trust Midnight t’ do th’ right thing.”

I stopped myself from looking back at my friend. I still had trouble sensing negative emotions from ponies, and I did not try to check what Midnight was feeling. I wanted to believe she thought better of me. I wanted to believe Hairpins didn’t have a point. I wanted to stop Chrysalis, but doing so would mean taking possession of the power she sought. What would I do if I got my hooves on that power? What could I do?

Feed...

You can help...

I turned back to Midnight, and she smiled at me. If Hairpins could lead us straight to the Empire it would make our quest much easier. I knew she was competent, and she shared the same emotional implacability that I looked up to in Midnight, but I would never have considered asking her to join us. I assumed she would feel the same as I did, but she had made the offer with little hesitation. I realized that I had spent all of my early life hating her, almost from the day I was born. By comparison, I was only a small bump in the long road she had traveled. I understood for the first time why she had not held a grudge against me. It was the same for me now. My life in Seeds had dwarfed the time from my emergence to the battle at New Canterlot. The hatred from my infancy had been extinguished. My time among friends and peace had buried the ashes. Hairpins was right: we had both paid for our choices. There was nothing left between us but a graveyard of friends.

“Alright,” I said. “You can join us.” She would be my guide, I told myself, nothing more.

* * * * *

“How do you know Hairpins?” I asked later.

Midnight and I were alone in one of Ray’s rooms, the door locked behind us. Hairpins had agreed to come with us after making sure the last few caravans were ready to leave, and after working out a few other details we decided it was time for bed. Midnight sat next to me on the wide hay mattress, humming as she recalled her past.

“Well, we grew up together, at least for a little while. We both lived in Tubers, and you get to know all the other kids in the city as you grow up. It’s a small enough place that it just happens. I think I had a crush on her for a little bit, but she wasn’t interested. And too much older besides. She left Tubers when I was almost seven. Tubers wasn’t that great a place to live unless you liked farming, so she went North to see the world. I cried for a whole day when I realized she was gone.”

“That’s it? You seemed much closer.”

She pursed her lips. “Well... I ran into another friend, Dahlia, a few years back. I knew her less than I knew Hairpins, and I was still elated when I saw her. Sometimes, seeing ponies from a long time ago, it’s a good thing in and of itself. They survived, just like you. It can bring you together. With Hairpins it’s the same. We were friends, and I thought I loved her. And for a moment, it looked like she’d made something of herself, but she’s so apathetic... I don’t understand how you can forgive her for what she did. If somepony did those things to me...”

“I...” I hadn’t been alive long enough to relate to her nostalgia, but I could understand in the abstract. If I could have seen Maggy again, I knew I would be overjoyed. And Fugax... “I ran into a friend, in Baltimare. Another changeling. He used to be a good changeling like me, but now he’s worse than a raider. He found a way to feed off of hate, and so he causes pain and misery to get more power. It’s killing him, but he won’t see any other way to survive. Hairpins... Hairpins did bad things. She helped hurt me, but even then... well, I’ve seen real cruelty.”

Midnight nodded, focused on the ground. I let the silence linger for a moment.

“Midnight, thank you. For everything today. That wouldn’t have ended well without you.”

“Oh, no problem Worker... it’s like I said, I’m here with you. It’s better for everyone if you can be yourself...” She yawned again, and settled in on the bed. I watched her sleep for a moment, and then felt a sudden weight on my eyelids. The day’s emotional trials had exhausted me. I lowered my head onto the stained pillow before me and closed my eyes...

* * * * *

“Ya’ sure there ain’t any zombies left?” Hairpins asked two days later.

“Yes,” I replied.

We were approaching the abandoned airfield. Hairpins might know how to get us to the Empire, but if anyone would have some actual insight into the Heart it would be the professor. We had left Bulbs earlier that day. Hairpins had been coordinating the exodus from Bulbs, and made sure the last few convoys were ready before parting. Ray and Spare Parts had said their goodbyes to us that morning. Seeing Spare Parts again had been an underwhelming surprise. I apologized for the trouble I’d caused her, and she accepted it nervously, again thanking me for saving her. I found that I didn’t have much else to say, and she looked scared of me more than anything. Cathode saw us out an hour later, waving goodbye. She seemed to be the only one genuinely sad to see Hairpins go. The other security guards had simply nodded farewell and gone about their day.

“Everypony likes Cathode better,” Hairpins had explained. “But th’ poor gal hates bein’ in charge.”

We had made good time to Pitch’s laboratory. I told my two companions to wait while I went in to get her. I flew over the area where the mines lay—I suspected the NCs had cleared them out, but I had no safe way of confirming my hunch—and made my way inside. I was struck by how clean the hallways were. The dust and rubble had been cleared away, as well as the muck left by the shuffling zombies. The old cabinets and broken tables had disappeared; only those that were salvageable had been repaired and refitted.

I smiled as I heard a soft humming come from Pitch’s makeshift bedroom. I peeked my head inside and found her with a feather duster in her mouth. I cleared my throat.

“Ahh!”

The duster flew through the air as Pitch swiveled to face me. She moved to fast and tripped over a nearby chair, spilling herself and a stack of books across the floor. She yelped in pain and then scrambled back up, backing up a few paces as her eyes focused on me.

“Who are you!? Oh Celestia, another one?”

I rolled my eyes. This was getting old. “It’s me,” I stated. “It’s Worker.”

“Oh. Oh! But... it’s been so long. What... what happened?”

I told her.

“Oh Rolling... oh dear... oh and what they did to the others—”

The thin wail that escaped her lips was a sad simile of weeping, but it was all she could produce. I said nothing as she rode out the waves of despair. They were strong enough that I could feel them, just barely. I didn’t reach any further, but I put a hoof on her shoulder as she cried. The moment stretched on, and I found myself thinking back to the battle I had just described. Telling it as a story let me skip through the more painful details, but as I now ruminate on it that pain rushed back. I still missed Rolling and Surprise; and it was more than loss. I felt guilty for what happened to them. For being a bad friend.

“I’m sorry to rush you,” I said, knowing that if I didn’t speak now I would soon start crying myself. “But I need some information, if you have it. I need to know about the Crystal Empire.”

“Oh... oh yes.” She sniffled. “Yes, I understand. I can... well, there’s a lot I can tell you about it, actually, but it will take a while. And it’s all muddled, you know. I’ve had nothing to do but clean and organize, and this place is almost spotless so my mind is starting to slip again. I might not remember something important until after you leave, and then... then I’ll be all alone again...”

“Come with us,” I said, pulling her away from those thoughts. Even before reaching Bulbs, I had planned to take her with me. She had been Rolling’s friend. I owed it to him to take care of her if I could. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk on the road. I’m going to the Crystal Empire. My... a friend of mine is with me. You won’t be alone.”

“Oh... but... but what about... all this?” She waved a hoof across her face. I smiled.

“You’ll be okay. I’ll be there for you. Ponies have accepted me, and I’m a monster. You’re already one of them. You just look a bit strange. We can do this together. Especially since we have two normal mares with us.”

She thought on my words for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right... oh, I know you’re right. I’ve known I needed to leave this place for a while, I just... I stayed because I held out hope for Rolling... and before that, I hoped maybe I could save the others... but... oh, give me a moment. I’ll be right back.”

She vanished into her room. I hear the rustling of leather, then the clatter of metal and plastic. She emerged with a small saddlebag. She nodded at me. I turned to lead her outside, but a sudden chill stopped me. The cold sensation from the Applejack statuette was back, but slightly stronger. I pulled it out with my magic, but I could see no change. Pitch stepped up to my side, making a curious noise. Then she saw what I was holding.

“Oh! Seems that we match now.” She pulled out a small figurine of Rainbow Dash. My eyes widened. The same cold sensation emanated from it as well. It was another mind somehow less than a mind. The solid absence of emotion. I felt dizzy trying to wrap my mind around it.

“What’s wrong?” Pitch asked me.

“Nothing. Well, maybe something, but we need to get moving.” It was almost midday, and any shelter was still a ways away. Pitch put the figurine away and walked out the door; the cold faded as I followed her, but the last whiff of it lingered at the edge of my senses.

* * * * *

If Midnight was shocked by Pitch’s appearance, she did not show it, and Hairpins had, apparently, seen a few ghouls during her travels.

“Yer not even close t’ th’ ugliest ah’ve seen,” she drawled. “Y’ain’t got nothin’ t’ worry about.”

“Oh, um... thank you?” Pitch shuffled closer to me and Midnight. “So, where are we going?”

“Back to Bulbs.”

“Maize,” Hairpins said at the same time as me. I raised an eyebrow.

“Why Maize? The rest of the Wasteland is out past Tubers.”

“We won’t need t’ go there. Ah told ya, ah know a faster way. We c’n make it t’ Maize tonight, easy. After that we’ll head to th’ NCs—”

“The Stable? Why!?”

“Calm yerself, Worker. Like ah was sayin’, we don’t need t’ travel through the wasteland. That’d take too long an’ be dangerous besides. The NCs got a port, y’know. We might have t’ wait a while, but there’s at least one ship that comes by every so often. They trade with ‘em, just like those sea ponies. We c’n take a boat straight up north. Won’t be any trouble at all, ‘least until we get there. Ah know a few folks who’ve gone that way already.”

“Why not mention this earlier?”

She shrugged. “Ah still don’t trust ya’. Also ah wanted t’ see if ya’ had any better ideas.”

I didn't. I’d never been out of the Fields, aside from that foray into Baltimare. I had no idea how I would get to the Crystal Empire. I could have simply flown north, but I had no idea if I could last off of the energy I had on me now. I needed Midnight with me to survive; and I wanted her with me. I wanted to experience the journey with my friend.

The trip to Maize was uneventful. Hairpins was, for the first time since I’d met her, quiet. She kept ahead of us, at a distance, surveying the horizon as we walked. I followed, my eyes locked on the back of her neck. Behind me, Midnight engaged Pitch in conversation. She asked about her past and the time before the war, but the only details Pitch offered about the Crystal Empire were things I had heard already from Spike.

Despite my earlier words of encouragement to Pitch, I had only a little hope that I would be accepted at Maize. Bulbs had lessened my paranoia at being undisguised, but the same logic that drove it still applied here. I was different. I was a monster. All evidence pointed towards a sour reception.

“Worker... you can’t be accepted if you don’t show who you are...”

“I know, Midnight, I know. But at some point—”

“Ah agree with him,” Hairpins said. “We’re stayin’ here fer th’ night ‘n’ nothing more. No need t’ risk any trouble.”

“Yes, but she—”

“Or, y’know what? Do what ya’ want. Ah won’t stop ya’. But ah don’t see no point in riskin’ mah own skin fer th’ sake of yer ‘personal growth’ or whatever. Ah’ll get mah own room t’night—”

“No. Don’t worry about it,” I said, disguising as Rarity. “I have to take this one step at a time, Midnight. They accepted me in Bulbs, that’s good. Thank you for helping me through that. But now there are more of us: we’ve got me, a former slaver, and a ghoul—one normal pony won’t balance that out. Once we get through Stable 111 I’ll feel safer, but until then there’s too many factors we can’t control.”

“I think you’re giving up too soon,” Midnight said. “At the Stable you’ll be a wanted pony, but here they have even less reason to fear you than at Bulbs. You have no enemies here.”

“He’s also got no friends...”

“I don’t believe ponies are math equations,” Pitch said. “But I know enough statistics to avoid gambling. I agree with the changeling.”

Hairpins shrugged at her words. I looked at Midnight. She had a slight frown on her face, but did not avoid my eyes. The matter was settled. I turned around and continued toward Maize. I reached out with my mind, and felt a slight disappointment in Midnight. Anxiety gripped my chest, and I pushed a bit deeper. There, buried below her love and her worries, was a profound doubt. On a whim I pushed into Hairpins’ feelings. The same doubt was there, naked and unashamed. Her words came back to me: Ah still trust Midnight t’ do th’ right thing.

Do you trust me, Midnight? I wondered. Am I the type of person to do the right thing?

“Hmm? Worker? Did you say something?” My ears flew up, but I stopped myself from reacting further. I took a breath to calm myself.

“No?” I said. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, sorry. I thought I heard you mumbling.”

* * * * *

A single guard greeted us at the gates of Maize. There was no interview, no watchful pack, and no device to detect the presence of a balefire egg; just one tired stallion who nodded to us and muttered his directions when we asked after lodging. He gave a grunt when Midnight thanked him, and then we were on our way again. The facility had power now, but it was only a marginal improvement from the total darkness I had first experienced with Rolling. Dim lights smoldered in the hallways, producing only enough illumination to show the position of a door or a turn in the corridor. Ponies appeared suddenly and then vanished again, dodging past us with practiced reflexes. My heart leapt each time it happened.

“Takes me back t’ Tubers,” Hairpins muttered to Midnight.

“Yes. One of the many reasons I preferred Seeds: you get to see everything.”

“Goodness,” Pitch said. “There’s so little infrastructure left...”

“And this is one of the better-off places,” Midnight added.

We got two rooms for cheap, and then set off to find some food. Only Midnight and Hairpins needed to eat, but I saw no reason to risk splitting up our group.

“Paranoid little thing, ain’tcha?” Hairpins teased.

“I don’t like this darkness,” I shot back. “Or tight spaces.”

Hairpins asked a few strangers about where to find dinner, and after a brief debate with Midnight we decided where to go. The bar Midnight chose turned out to have real lighting. I breathed a sigh of relief as we entered. I almost thanked Celestia before remembering I didn’t worship her, nor Luna. Chrysalis was right out as well. Thank Midnight’s luck, I settled on.

“Thank Celestia,” Pitch said as she walked in behind me.

Dinner was quiet. Midnight and Hairpins chatted a bit about the fate of a mutual friend, but after their food arrived they were silent. I was tense the entire time they ate, glancing at every twitch of every shadow around us. Pitch kept getting suspicious looks from the bartender and a few of the patrons, and each time a new pony stepped inside the bar I would revise my mental battle plan. I let out a breath when the two mares finally decided they’d had their fill.

“Still weird to think about...” Midnight said as we moved slowly through the twilight corridors.

“What’s that?”

“That it’s all poisoned.”

“Oh. Ah know what ya’ mean. Tasteless, silent death. Heck, we all might be leavin’ too late, far as ah know,” Hairpins said with a morose laugh.

“Most likely,” Pitch agreed. “Radiation damage is permanent and cumulative. Plus, there’s no way to know how the megaspells might have amplified or modified it. Nopony ever had a chance to do any research on that particular aspect of magi-physical coupling.”

I felt cold fear from both Midnight and Hairpins. Pitch seemed unaware of the effect of her words.

“It’s a shame, really, how much we lost in the war. All this death, and for nothing. Ponies living and dying in misery and sadness. What kind of life is this? How could we have given this to our children?” Her voice wavered, on the verge of a wail. We had stopped walking now, Hairpins and Midnight stewing in a growing despair beside me.

“Yeah, uh... you said something about a Magi-what-now?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Oh! Magi-physical coupling. That was what we called the specific interactions at the intersection of magic and science. It was quite an interesting field, but too young to produce predictive results—indeed, the whole point of the field was to determine whether the magic/science coupling could produce a more general framework than simple empirical models. Twilight Sparkle even produced a lecture series on the subject! I almost went to her colloquium in Baltimare, but work got in the way—a stroke of luck, in retrospect...”

“Uh, and why’s that?” Hairpins asked, clearly as confused as I was.

“Well, that’s when the attack happened.”

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind us.

I spun around, my battle instincts once again triggered by recognition. I knew that voice—it came from a figure at the edge of my vision. Cobb, the plantation owner of Maize.

“You’re back,” he stated. “Boss is dead.”

I blinked. How did he—?

“Uh, yes?” Hairpins replied. She tilted her head at the stallion, eyeing him up and down. Behind us Midnight and Pitch made questioning noises, but otherwise made no move. “The NCs killed him.”

“Alright. Good to know. Twist... I need to speak to Twist...” Cobb nodded his head and moved past us, vanishing into the shadows as silently as he had come. The four of us stared at the space he had occupied for a moment before we recovered. Midnight looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Who was that?” Pitch asked.

“Cobb,” I stated. “He runs the plantation here.”

“Strangest fucker ah ever met,” Hairpins drawled. “Even Boss was creeped out by him.”

“Do you know why he is... the way he is?” I asked.

“Ah ain’t got a damn clue.”

* * * * *

We left at the crack of dawn the next day, stepping from one twilight to another. I had never before been so thankful for the sun. My claustrophobia had started to creep back in the night. I had woken in darkness, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. A cold hand crushed down on my chest.

“Worker? Worker what is it?” Midnight asked.

“I—” The chill was already fading; whatever nightmare had disturbed me was already gone. “I don’t know. A bad dream.” I realized that I was undisguised. Strange. I had fallen asleep as Rarity. I thought of putting her skin back on, but at that thought the cold sensation around my chest crept back into my perception. Strange, I thought.

The moment we were out of sight of Maize I undisguised again. I did not want to risk the sensation returning. I picked up a few nearby rocks with my magic and sent them flying. Then a few heavier ones. I ran through a few disguises of ponies I had glimpsed in the past few days, and then levitated my pistol and my knife before returning them to my saddlebag.

“Are you alright?” Midnight asked.

“I think so,” I said. “Just testing my magic. Last night, after my dream, I felt... strange.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked. I could feel the worry in her mind. And below that, the return of suspicion. And further below, the guilt. I suddenly felt like crying.

“N-no,” I said, turning to smile at her. “Midnight, you’ve given me more than enough. Please believe me. If I need help I’ll let you know.”

She looked into my eyes, then looked away, nodding. I frowned. Ahead of us, Hairpins and Professor Pitch had stopped to stare back at us. I was still not sensitive enough to feel their curiosity. I cleared by throat.

“Midnight, is something wrong?” Do you still trust me?

“Last night...” she whispered. “Last night, you were mumbling in your sleep. Right before you woke up. I didn’t catch all of it, but you were speaking to somepony. ‘Come out,’ you said. ‘I’ll eat you. I’ll eat you and then I’ll find the rest.’ I thought... your eyes were open. I thought for a moment you were speaking to me.”

This time I could not stop the tears coming to my eyes. “Oh... oh I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright Worker,” she said, putting on a smile. “You just gave me a bit of a scare. Nothing we haven’t seen before, you know? I realized what was happening. I poked you and you woke up right up.”

“I’m still sorry,” I said, wondering why I felt as guilty as I did. I could feel that she was being genuine. I knew she would not hold it against me. “Did... did I say anything else? Was I talking about the crystals?”

She shook her head. “That’s all I remember. I assumed you meant the crystals. I don’t know what the eating me bit was about—”

“I would never do that.”

“Really? Never?” She grinned at me, the dour mood abruptly shifting. I could tell she was making a joke, but I was missing the punchline. It wasn’t funny for me to think about eating ponies.

“I don’t get it.”

“What? How long did you spend in Seeds? Did you never—?”

“Hey ladies, let's get a’movin’!” Hairpins called back to us. “Ya’ll had plenty a’ time t’ chit-chat last night. Ah ain’t sleepin’ in no swamp if ah c’n help it!”

Midnight giggled and trotted forward, resuming her earlier gait. I went after her, feeling somehow dislodged from the moment.

“Midnight, what did you mean—?”

“Oh don’t worry about it. Explaining a joke ruins the fun.”

I decided not to press her, but I couldn’t let the exchange go as we continued on. I had not told Midnight about what I did that first time I became a griffin. I had told no one. Being reminded in such a jovial way, even accidentally, felt like a kick to the gut. And now we were headed to Stable 111. The memories of that day—that day—burst up into my mind again. The taste of cooling meat. The pain and fear. My grief over Surprise. Rolling.

I lingered at the back of our group, keeping my head down and looking back often to wipe my eyes. I managed not to sob, taking slow, deep breaths to calm myself. This is good, I told myself, better to break down now than when we get there. Thankfully, nopony noticed my crying.

* * * * *

We marched on until night fell. The sound of the ocean crept into my conscious so slowly I failed to notice it. I did not realize we had arrived at the battlefield until I stumbled into a large, smooth stone on the ground. I blinked in the darkness. Beside me, Midnight lit up her horn. It was a grave marker. There were hundreds around us, spreading out in all directions. A dirty marble color, already stained by the salty sea air. They twinkled at us as we stepped through them. Roughly half were marked with a short spiral, the others by a drawing of roots. Many of the spirals had names carved underneath them. The roots were mostly blank. A few headstones were blank altogether. The field was scattered, graves clustered in some regions and absent in others. The dead had been buried where they fell.

I did not read the names I saw. Hairpins and Midnight had stopped for a closer look, but I cleared my throat and plodded on. I was tired from the day’s travels, and I wouldn’t be able to stand lingering here. Already I felt a familiar pressure in my cheeks. I needed to sleep. To reset myself emotionally; to let myself forget.

“Let’s go,” I said, disguising as Rarity. “We all need sleep.”

* * * * *

Stable 111 was a ruin. Tents and wooden shacks had been erected on the cliffside, dotting what remained of the Stable’s fortifications. The remains of the barricades and bunkers had been turned into the foundations for shelter. Our group passed through the outer area unimpeded; no pony seemed to be awake at this hour. A few fires and a luminescent crystal showed us the way to the stairs. An unpleasant odor filled the air as we descended, the stink of unwashed ponies drenched in salt. At the bottom of the well, more tents greeted us. They were clustered near the southern hallway entrances, presumably where the Stable’s original housing units were located. The facilities we passed by as we circled the central floor were dirty, and many looked like they had been raided for salvage.

Amethyst’s statue was the only object in the city still pristine. Even in the near-darkness of night it glistened. In fact, the twilight only made her appear more sublime. Water no longer ran down her cheeks, and the shadows had turned her expression from one of sadness to fury. Darkness shone in the gemstones on her body, and a tiny flame burned in each.

A figure sat at a fire below her, their silhouette barely discernible against the dark walls around them.

“Excuse me,” Hairpins drawled. “Ah don’t s’pose ya’ know where we might find a place t’ sleep?”

The stranger turned toward her voice. “Ah,” she spoke. “Welcome back, little pony.” Through the fire behind her blinded me to the details of her face I knew immediately who it was. Aegis had survived the last battle of New Canterlot. “You may sleep in any place you find comfortable. Most of these shanties are abandoned. Take any you need.” She spoke in a hoarse whisper

I stepped behind Midnight, hoping Aegis had not seen my face. She was one of the few people who would recognize this body. And the only one besides Spike who would realize it was a fake.

“What? What happened to everypony?” Pitch asked.

Aegis shrugged. “They fled. Or they died. We received many stragglers from the Fields here. Chard and Tubers are abandoned. Half of Maize visited here. Yet we could not support more than our own. So they left until we did not require them to leave. Many more left because they see no future here.”

“An’ you? Why are you still here? Yer prince is dead. You got no friends or army left. Why stay?”

“And where else would I go, pony? I was Queen of my people, and Princess to yours. What remains here is mine by rights of the old world. I have all this, and nothing else.” Aegis sighed, looking up at the statue before her. “It is I who should be asking you: why have you come? Why visit this kingdom of the dead?”

Hairpins coughed, and had a rare moment of hesitation.

“Ah’m fixin’ t’ get on a boat an’ sail outta here. Figured it was th’ safer than travlin’ by hoof.”

Ages tilted her head to look at the rest of us. My heart leapt.

I can’t be seen!

Pitch gave a short gasp, and Midnight shifted subtly to block her view of me.

Thanks, I thought.

Midnight’s ears twitched, and she glanced back at me, eyebrows furrowed. Before she could speak, Aegis resumed her conversation with Hairpins.

“Your friends will be sailing with you, I assume? You are in luck. The ship you seek arrives tomorrow. They set sail by nightfall. Though I wonder, what preparations have you made? I see you have no provisions for a long journey.”

I felt a jolt of panic from Hairpins. “Are ya’ll so dead yer market’s gone too? Ah’d assume the Stable’s still producin’ food.”

Aegis laughed. “Oh, I see. Yes, the market still sells, though we will not give more than we can afford to. I do intent to live long enough to rebuild. The chance to achieve Gleaming’s vision is past, but I can at least restore my own glory.”

“Y’know, ah never quite understood what ya’ saw in that stallion.” Hairpins spoke slowly, her tail flicked angrily. “Can’t say this place was worth all th’ trouble he put ya’ through.”

“If you have a grievance, speak it plainly, little pony. I do not have time for games.” The levity in her voice had vanished.

“Well... I do thank you fer yer hospitality—but it don’t make up fer yer former husband’s antiks. He killed my friend, y’know. He killed all my friends.”

Aegis shrugged again. “Many more of mine died for him. What do you want from me, pony?”

“Just... why? Why did you fight with him. What did Tumble die for?” Her voice wavered, her sadness coming clearly to my ears as well as my mind. Aegis was silent for a long moment.

“I did not love him,” she said. “He may have loved me, as one my love their favorite painting, or a loyal pet, but that was a high esteem in his mind. He truly loved only three things: himself, his vision, and his mother from whom he took that vision. I agreed to marriage because I, too, loved his vision. I loved the version of it where I stood by his side at the top of the world.”

“I first met him on the battlefield. It was a terrible day. A terrible, glorious day. It was the fifth week of my tribe’s glorious war. My father had led us into the Fields to conquer and pillage. We had already scourged the western mountainside, and the wetlands above them. We continued our sweep north, driving the ponies out from their decrepit cities and into those cold fortresses. We believed we were on the verge of extinguishing what remained of Equestria. Of finishing our ancestor’s great mission. My father had declared that this day we would overrun Chard, the first of those final strongholds.”

“Unfortunately, it was not much of a battle. We sought glorious combat, but all we could do was siege them. Their walls would not break, and their gates were unapproachable. We would starve them out, it was the only option. Father seethed as each day went on, but it was our only option. I felt his impatience. I too wished to fight. To purge these hated ponies. I wished to honor my ancestors with their blood.”

“It was on the third day when they arrived. New Canterlot. As soon as the sun rose they swept down upon us without warning. We had heard rumors of them, but we believed they were only just rumors; an arrogant upstart. They slaughtered us. We were unprepared for the sheer power of their army. My father raged at his troops and inspired them to suicidal bloodlust, but such ‘tactics’ are child's play to real war-thought. We were shattered utterly.”

“In the midst of an open field of carnage I saw him: Gleaming Armor. He was their leader, still only a youth, and even through my hatred and despair I was awed by what I saw. His power was unmatched. He held his ground against ten of us. He was far above any soldier I had ever glimpsed in my life. It was then I knew I had been wrong. I had been taught that ponies were weak, yet here was the true potential of a warrior. Here was power I had been unable to even dream of. After my father and brothers lay dead and broken beneath New Canterlot’s hooves I called for a retreat. I knew we had lost. We all knew we had lost. But unlike my despairing soldiers, I had a new vision. I had seen a glorious new height, and I wanted to reach it.”

“We retreated to the southern swamp. There, amid the muck of decay, we lay in wait for New Canterlot. Their vanguard appeared on the fifth day, scouting for signs of our return or resistance, not suspecting that I had anticipated them. We surrounded them easily. It would have been a glorious end for my tribe: vanquishing Gleaming in combat before falling to the sheer power of his soldiers, but instead I sought a future for us. I demanded a parlay, and offered to join my forces with his own. I and my three loyal necromancers reanimated two of his soldiers who had fallen to our blades. Gleaming’s vanguard looked aghast—he merely laughed. It was then I knew he would accept my proposal.”

Aegis gave a spiteful snort. “But that Lute, she protested. She cursed us, calling our magic ‘dark’ and dangerous, and insisted we would only bring ruin. I still recall the words Gleaming replied with: ‘They say a small spark can ignite great change—but I prefer we be a roaring fire of certainty.’ The power of the unicorns would conquer the land; the power of the zebra would raise an army from the ashes and hold it.”

Hairpins laughed through clenched teeth. “An’ how’d that work out fer ya?”

Aegis’s eyes narrowed. “If you choose to mock me, little pony, I can retract my ‘hospitality.’ True, we failed to realize our vision, but it was not my doing. Gleaming brought about his own fate: first by trying to make use of that pitiful bug, then by accepting the ‘salvation’ of those accursed alicons. The city’s shield would have held through any siege, and yet he simply let it down—! I sympathize, now, with Lute. Gleaming listened to none of our warnings about anything. My tribe, the bug, Unity... they were all tools to him. Tools to learn how to use, and then to be used in the service of his vision. So, no, little pony, it did not ‘work out’ for me, but it was not my downfall. Gleaming is gone. His comet has fallen. I will rise from his ashes.”

“Yeah... well, best of luck t’ ya with yer warmongering...” Hairpins turned away in a huff, clearly unsatisfied with the answers she’d gotten.

“Um, excuse me?” Midnight said, taking a step forward. I slid further back into the shadows. “What was that you said about a comet?”

“Oh, little pony, did you not know?” Aegis laughed. “It was the reason for Gleaming’s absolute assurance—the reason for his army’s power. The comet passed us by these past few months. As it approached, magic in the land grew stronger. Gleaming knew of the timing, and launched his conquest as the comet waxed. You might have felt it, your magic subtly growing, being able to perform spells outside of your normal range. Some of his soldiers even claimed that, at perigee, one would be able to see it in the night sky—if only the night sky could be seen at all. But it has long since waned. The height of its amplification has long past us, and Gleaming was dead long before it had finished rising. Another tool of his that only inspired false hope.”

“Oh... I’ve never heard of that.”

Aegis shrugged. “Few would remember such knowledge. None in my tribe knew of it.”

“I think I read something about it once,” Pitch mumbled. “Though we didn’t have many astronomy textbooks in the lab. The stars didn’t factor into much of what we did there.”

Hairpins, already near the stairway, grunted impatiently. I nodded in silent agreement.

“Well,” Midnight said. “Thank you for the information, and letting us stay here. But it seems we must be off.”

“You are quite welcome, little pony. I too, must retire soon. Sleep well, and may we both live to see the glory of my empire restored.”

What fools, I thought. Gleaming, Chrysalis, Aegis, Fugax, Unity... the only means of power they can conceive of is subjugation. I would be different. I would never need to be Queen; just a good friend.

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Silent Gallop - You have mastered silent movement, allowing you to move quickly and still remain quiet. You can Sneak at full speed with no penalties.
Global Perk: Secretariat Comet - Magic users in Equestria no longer receive +1 to all magic rolls and lose their bonus spell slot.

Author's Note

Still not dead! Thanks so much to everyone who's still reading/interested! I've got the whole rest of the story plotted out, and a lot of free time coming up this winter, so... maybe I'll finish within the next year. But no promises!

(Also I've got the next chapter ready to go. I'll be posting it in the next few days.)

(Also also reminder that I self-published a sci-fi book if you're interested!)

Chapter 16: Shipping

“What the world needs now is love, sweet love.”

We slept on the cliffside, in a pair of tents farthest from any others. When Midnight asked why we weren’t sleeping in the city proper, Hairpins and I both stated that we didn’t trust Aegis. She had seemed genuine enough in her indifference, but I would not have put it past her to spy on us or rob us in the night. Besides, any number of her soldiers could have been patrolling the city unseen. They still had access to invisibility cloaks, and I needed to be sure nopony got a good look at my face. As soon as Midnight and I were in our tent I reached out with my mind, looking for any source of emotion outside my three companions. After an hour of searching I was finally satisfied. I disguised as Cathode, and started getting ready for sleep.

“Why her?” Midnight asked me in the morning.

“She’s guaranteed not to be here.”

* * * * *

Most of the day was spent waiting. After Hairpins talked to the pony manning the dock we meandered through what remained of the city’s market. There were no permanent stalls, just ponies with their wares before them on rags or blankets, and the occasional basket of foodstuff. They bartered among themselves as often as they tried to entice our party to buy things, and each individual stayed for only an hour or so before moving on with their day. Many, it seemed, were just as eager to leave as we were. All around me I heard ponies mumbling about the ship that was coming.

“I hear it’s a ghost ship!”

“No, it’s run by those sea ponies. A ghost ship couldn’t carry any of us. It’s a ghost!”

“Sea ponies? How? They have to stay in the water.”

“No, they’re normal ponies from a far away land, untouched by war. I’m gonna ask them to sail me to paradise.”

“What do you know about the ship?” I asked Hairpins. She and I were stocking up on supplies.

“Oh, it ain’t magic,” she drawled. “Just a normal ship. They’re captain’s a bit of a nut, but they’re reliable.” She said nothing more of the subject and returned to her shopping. She had been quiet since the morning. We were alone together; Pitch and Midnight were meandering in a circle, perusing the market for any old-world trinkets. I had told them to fish for any info on the Crystal Empire, but I wasn’t holding out hope that we’d get any bites. I had stuck with Hairpins to keep up my disguise as Cathode, and, at Midnight’s insistence, to try and bridge the gap between us.

“We’ll be in close quarters for a long time on that ship,” she’d pointed out. “You two need to reconcile. You need to find a way to be friendly.”

Friendly. Not friends, but friendly. I had promised to try.

“So, how did you know about the ship to begin with?” I asked.

Hairpins gave me a side-eye. “Ah lived here fer a couple a’ weeks, didn’t ah tell ya? That’s how.” She had been unusually short this morning. I decided not to try and make conversation. Aegis’ unsympathetic reaction had clearly enraged her. I found myself thinking back to all the times I had watched Hairpins and Tumbleweed together. They had been good friends, much closer than me and Midnight. I frowned. How would I feel if Midnight died? What if I was the only one who cared?

“Hey, let’s get going.”

I blinked, swallowing a sudden burst of emotion. Hairpins had already moved onto the next vendor. I trotted over to her, picking up our latest purchases in my magic. Two bags of foodstuff were already draped across my back, and Hairpins had filled her saddlebags with as much ammo as she could afford. She would have stuffed more into my bags, but they were already full of healing potions and bandages. We bought extra barding for all four of our party, and then dumped the rest of our caps into whatever valuable trinkets we could find: gems, jewelry, gold.

“Up north,” Hairpins had explained, “they’re cut off from th’ wider world. Last time ah’s there only one ‘r two ponies took currency. Everypony else only trusts in barterin’.”

Midnight and Pitch met up with us just as we finished. I saw the professor carrying a stack of papers in her mouth, while Midnight had acquired a silver necklace and a set of pistols. Hairpins nodded at them both, then started walking in the direction of the dock. We followed her, making our way through the small corridor and out into the salty air. The waves lapped gantly at the rocks beneath us. We were early, but it would be exhausting to lug our provisions around all day, so we had decided to buy what we needed and wait.

I saw Olivine sitting at the table, staring off into the distance. He looked none the worse for wear, but I still felt a pang of guilt at having captured him. I avoided eye contact as we waited for the afternoon to arrive.

“Ah’ll be back,” Hairpins muttered after we had stacked our purchases on the ground.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Sightseein’.”

“What?”

She walked back inside without replying. I glanced at Midnight, and she gave me a worried frown, but then shook her head. I nodded in agreement. It was best to give her some space.

* * * * *

“Fascinating,” Pitch muttered after she finished reading through the papers she’d bought. “Absolutely fascinating.”

“What are you reading?” I wondered.

“Oh!” She looked up like she had forgotten we were sitting beside her. “Well, I have no idea how it ended up at the Stable, but it’s a complete analysis of the terror attack on Baltimare, with input from the ministry mare herself. Ah, but it seems they were just as baffled as the rest of us. Their conclusion is that the power required for the effect they saw was completely unfeasible. Unless... I guess it could have been a primitive megaspell... but no, then the damage would have been more focused...”

“Baltimare attack?” Midnight and I asked at the same time.

“Oh, this was very early in the war. An explosion ripped through the university of Blatimare. Several buildings collapsed, including a lecture hall where Twilight Sparkle was speaking. Everypony assumed it was an assasination attempt: Shinning Armor and Lady Cadenza were in the audience, and later we learned that Pinkie Pie had been in the are as well. It made sense, but it was the strangest thing: we could not find any trace of what had caused it: no magical or chemical residue. And the attack itself was terribly executed. Lots of structural damage, but it originated in a mostly empty area in the middle of all the buildings it hit. There were casualties, but few fatalities. This report only confirms the mystery: it proposes that some sort of ‘hyperkinetic’ weapon could have produced the effects we saw, but neither side in the war ever had such technology.”

Now that she described it, I recalled that I had heard some of this before. “Let me see that?” I read the title, then laughed. It was the same paper I had taken while scavenging with Chrysalis. No doubt the NCs had taken it off of my suit when they rescued Olivine. I wondered what they had done with the pegasus armor. No doubt Aegis would keep it for her own soldiers. I sighed. I had really liked that armor. Then another thought hit me.

“Hyperkinetic?” Midnight asked.

“Moving very fast. And I mean very fast.”

“Hold on,” I interjected. “Did you say Pinkie Pie was there?”

“Yes, apparently. Though they say very little else about why she was there...”

Thoughts swirled in my head. Disparate things I had seen and heard suddenly converging into a bigger picture. Twilight’s lecture on science and magic. Baltimare. Pinkie Pie. An attack. The vision I had seen in the memory orb. Were they related somehow? I thought of the strange resistance of the air I had felt while in the pink mare’s body, the last image of fire slowly spreading from her tin of Mint-als. I looked up at Pitch.

“What is it?”

“Professor,” I started. “I once saw a very strange memory orb...”

* * * * *

“Well... that’s...” Pitch blinked, shaking her head repeatedly. Midnight just looked confused. “I mean... no, that can’t be... but what else could it be... it fits too well...”

“How?” I asked. “I think they’re related, right?”

“I think,” Pitch started. “That they are the same event. You said Pinkie Pie took dash? Dash is a very potent drug; and partially magical. It lets ponies move faster, think faster... it boosts them for lack of a better word. Makes them more like, well, Rainbow Dash. But Pinkie Pie was already a very powerful magical pony. I think... when she took it... I think it enhanced her far beyond what anyone could have expected. What you describe to me sounds like it let her think and move about as fast as physically possible.”

“And that’s... how fast?”

“That’s near the speed of light!” Pitch exclaimed. “She was moving so fast everything seemed static! You saw blue-shift! It’s a miracle she wasn’t vaporized by the explosion—she was the explosion!” She slapped a hoof to her face as another thought hit her. “Oh... I had heard from some colleagues that the investigation had stalled out... all this time I assumed they were underfunded like my division; but thinking on it now... I have no doubt Pinkie Pie wanted to bury it...”

It was a big oopsie...

“No wonder Rainbow Dash never wanted to try the stuff. And here I thought she was setting a good example for the other soldiers...” Pitch continued to mumble to herself, but I was still trying to wrap my head around what she had told us saying.

“So... I was right?” I asked.

“I guess so,” Midnight answered after a moment. “Pinkie Pie explodes when she does drugs. Don’t let her take any in the future.” She shrugged. “What’s all this have to do with us again?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Although...” I realized that this must have been the same incident that Amethyst was involved in, the heir to the Crystal Empire. If her parents hadn’t been at that lecture, watching Twilight, she wouldn’t have made friends with Lyra, and she wouldn’t have been in Baltimare on the day the war ended. She wouldn't have had to evacuate to the Stable, and she wouldn’t have started the lineage that ended with Gleaming. A strange trickle of events.

It was at this moment that Hairpins returned. I jumped when she cleared her throat. I had not felt her approaching us. I smiled when I saw her, and found that I didn’t have to try as hard as before. She nodded her greetings to all of us, then sat near our heap of supplies. Midnight was the first to speak to her.

“So... where did you go?”

Hairpins pursed her lips, then replied. “Ah went t’ see his grave.”

“Did you find it?” I asked.

“Ah knew where it was. Ah buried him. Ah buried all of ‘em right next t’ each other.”

“Oh. I see.” I glanced at Midnight. She was watching Hairpins. I could feel pity, but also relief.

“They keep ‘em well,” Hairpins continued. “Ah wasn’t sure what t’ expect, but... well it was pristine. Whether it was unicorn ‘r earth pony, NC or not, they’ve been takin’ care of the gravestones. Ah truly appreciate that.”

Midnight sat next to her, and Pitch went back to reading over the report. I sighed and stared at the sea. There was nothing more to say.

* * * * *

As the day grew old several other ponies trickled out of the stable to join us in waiting. They congregated just before the dock, near Olivine, and mostly stayed clear of us. For that, I was glad. I was careful to note the face of each pony who trotted out, and twice I was surprised to recognize them. I knew the face of the first pony, but it took me a moment to recall exactly who they were. It was Shortcake, the mare whom I had freed during the NC’s skirmish before Chrysalis had summoned me to free her. I wondered for a moment why she was here, then reasoned she must have been with the Steel Rangers during the NC’s last battle. I was surprised to see any Rangers had survived. The second pony I recognized was Tulip. She recognized me as well.

“Cathode! What the hell are you doing here?” She trotted over to us immediately, wearing a bemused smile.

“Oh hello! Um, well, leaving, I guess...” I forced the cheeriest smile I could.

“Well, obviously—everyone who’s got a brain left if leaving this wretched place. But why come all this way? Isn’t your family just east of Tubers?” She raised an eyebrow at me, still smiling.

“Well, I—” Before I could improvise a scenario, Hairpins stepped between us. She was grinning menacingly. I felt a surge of darkness from her soul.

“Well, how-dee-doo, Miss Tulip. Fancy seein’ you here?”

Tulip took a step back, suddenly awash with concern. “And you are?”

“Oh come now, after all we’ve been through t’gether? It’s Hairpins. Ah b’lieve you’d remember my friend, Tumbleweed?”

Tulip’s eyes narrowed, then widened in recognition. “Oh. Him. One of Boss’s. And?” I tensed, readying myself for battle. Hairpin’s ears flicked angrily.

“Yer husband was a real asshole t’ him; an’ us by extension. We went through a mighty bit of hardship on account of ya’ll running us outta town. Ah’s hopin’ fer an apology.”

“Wait a minute. Cathode!” Tulip exclaimed. “What the fuck is going on here? Why are you traveling with this cretin? Shouldn’t she have been arrested? Why are you two here?”

“Arrested? Ha! When I showed up they made me sherif!”

“What?”

“It’s true,” I murmured, doing my best to play along. “Nopony else wanted the job.”

Tulip blinked. “Cathode, I thought you had the job.”

“N-no,” I said, shaking my head. “Not since... well, not since my injuries. I think we technically have your husband to blame for that too.”

Tulip huffed, stamping her hoof in frustration. “Why am I responsible for what that moron did? My life has gone to shit since that day! You were there, Cathode, you saw that... thing that was trying to control him. I get kidnapped and my husband goes crazy. Hairpins, was it? You want an apology? Too fucking bad. I can’t give you one. You all knew what Tumbleweed did, and you took him in anyway. It’s not my fault Garlic was a vengeful bastard. It’s not my fault you antagonized him. Ah! And you were the one who held me back from killing that bug-thing when I had the chance!”

By now our argument had caught the attention of the other ponies around us. A few merely glanced our way and smirked, but after Tulip’s tirade two of them trotted up to her. It was Shortcake and a dull grey stallion.

“Ya’ll alright over here?” the stallion asked.

Tulip wirled on him. “Stay out of this!” She snapped back to us.

“Yeah,” she continued. “Yeah, it’s all coming back to me... You were buddying up to that wretch the whole march to Tubers. I was too mad to think about it then, but it makes sense. A slaver cozying up to a rapist—birds of a feather.”

I jerked forward, biting my tongue to stop myself from blowing my cover. Hairpins had no need to imitate my discretion. She stood over Tulip, nostrils flaring in rage. Less than a knife’s edge separated them.

“What’re ya sayin’ little miss?”

“You people are no better than that bug. Ruining ponies’ lives to carry on with your own.”

Hairpin’s laugh was mirthless. “Look who’s talking. Or did ya think all Garlic’s ‘farmhands’ helped prop up your cozy home outta th’ goodness of their hearts?”

“Oh don’t you dare twist things out of proportion. Hard work is not slavery. Everypony on Garlic’s plantation were free to leave if they so wished.”

“Except th’ ones in chains.”

“Of course you would want criminals roaming free—

“An’ ah’d disagree that those who weren’t chained up could leave anyway. Where else is there t’ go? Another plantation? They gunna start their own business out where nothin’ grows? No. Anypony who worked fer Garlic did it because they got t’ hold th’ whip or were desperate enough t’ bear it. Y’know why Bulbs was th’ most prosperous a’ th’ facilities? Cuz it worked it’s plantation th’ hardest. Ah’ve heard the stories. The shit ya’ll put up with—” She glanced at me with venom in her eyes, and I sensed that for a moment that she had forgotten that I was not the real Cathode. “—it’s enough t’ make my stomach churn.”

“Now you look who’s talking, slaver!”

“Ah did what ah had t’ do!” Hairpins reared up and knocked Tulip to the ground. The mare yelped, and immediately Shortcake was between them. I reacted a moment later, throwing my forelegs around Hairpin’s neck and using my weight to pull her away before the violence could escalate. I felt her resist me. Rage and anguish boiled within her.

“Both of you stand down!”

“Fucking slaver—!”

“Fuck you,” Hairpins spat. “You don’t know what it’s like out there. You never had t’ live in th’ Wasteland’s wilds, away from walls an’ a stable source a’ food. Ah did th’ best ah could with what was in front a’ me. Tumble was a good pony, but nopony c’n take yer husband’s abuse forever. Tumble told me all about workin’ fer Garlic. Why d’ya think he made off the way he did? He was tryin’ t’ get out from under yer husband’s hoof.”

“He’s not my husband! He’s dead.” Tulip tried to rise, but Shortcake put a hoof on her chest. She was preventing any possibility of retaliation.

“Tumbleweed was a decent pony,” Hairpins continued, staring out at the ocean. “Ah’m sure ya had a lot of decent ponies werkin’ fer ya all those years. Ah was a slaver ‘cuz my only other option was death. You lived th’ good life off th’ backs of folk far better and worse than ah’ll ever be. So yeah, that makes my stomach churn.” The quaver in her voice was at the edge of my perception, but her misery blared in my mind. Until that moment I had been confused by the abruptness of her anger, but now I realized she was lashing out. She was still grieving for Tumbleweed. She needed a target.

Tulip tried to rise again. Shortcake stood firm. Tulip hissed in frustration, tail twitching furiously across the rock underneath her. “I’m not Garlic. Don’t you dare project his sins onto me.”

I have to stop this!

I managed to push myself in front of Hairpins before she could continue their argument. I had been on the receiving end of Tulip’s wrath, and I knew how long she could hold a grudge. Hairpins could be vengeful when she was given reason to, and the longer this went on the more reasons she would find to resent Tulip. I gave Shortcake a knowing glance. We needed to stop this as soon as possible.

“Look, ma’am,” I said, “I understand there’s some bad blood between the two of you; but there’s no point to this anymore. Garlic’s dead. The pony who killed him too. There’s nothing any of us can do but move on.” I looked at Hairpins, then back to Tulip. “Why don’t we call a truce? We’re going to be living together for the next long while. This isn’t the way to start that voyage.”

“Yes, please,” Midnight murmered behind us.

Hairpins snorted, but I felt the intensity of her emotions lessen. Tulip spat at my feet.

“Cathode, I used to think you were one of the few decent ponies in that horrid place, but now I see you’re just naive. You’re too stupid to see when you’re bein used. You think this slaver is your friend now? Did she show up and give you a sob story? Is that why you made her sheriff? She’s a hypocrite then, if—”

“Enough!” Shortcake snapped. She shifted her weight, placing herself fully above Tulip so that the mare was forced curl up between her forelegs. The two stared daggers at each other for a second. “I don’t know and I don’t care about what happened between the two of you, but this argument ends now. The mare’s right. We’ll be living together. You two need to get used to that.” By now everypony in the area had their attention on us. The silence stretched on for a long moment.

“We all lost friends,” Shortcake continued, looking between Tulip and Hairpins. “It’s war. That shit happens. And guess what? Everypony responsible is dead. We got no one to blame. Sound familiar? Suck it up and deal with it like adults. Are we clear?”

Hairpins grunted and turned away. Tulip tried to rise again, pawing at the ground as if that would pull Hairpins into strangling distance. “Fuck you! Let me go!”

“I said: are we clear?” Shortcake stomped a hoof into Tulip’s mane, pressing it into the ground and forcing the mare to look up at her. Tulip stopped her squirming, but continued to stare up defiantly. Shortcake put more pressure on her hair. “Say it, girl.”

I felt a flash of emotions between the two of them. Fear, rage, and a strange awe.

“Ah, yes! Yes, we’re clear! Please...”

Shortcake released the pressure, and the two stared at each other. The other ponies around us shifted back to where they had been waiting, content that the situation had been deescalated. I glanced back at Hairpins to find her pacing at the base of what was left of the cliffside stairway, doing her best to avoid looking at anyone. Midnight stepped up to my side, giving me a reassuring smile. I turned back to the mares before us.

“I need to stand up...” Tulip muttered.

“Ah, right. Sorry, ma’am.” Shortcake stepped aside, finally letting the scarlet mare rise. She looked at me, nodding her thanks. Tulip followed suit, but begrudgingly. It was more than I had expected. She then turned back to Shortcake.

“I’m... sorry for causing a commotion... what is your name?”

I would have expected more anger, but whatever had passed between them in that moment had calmed her down. The two ponies moved off to the far side of the port area as they continued speaking. Shortcake walked with a slight limp, and Tulip slowed her pace to match. I swallowed a flash of embarrassment, remembering that I was responsible for injuring her leg. Technically, she had attacked me. I shouldn’t have felt bad about it.

“Thanks goodness.” Midnight gave a sigh of relief beside me.

I was about to agree with her when an exclamation rose from the dock. I crouched, ready for action. To my immense relief I saw that there was no need for concern. It was not another argument that had caused the pony to shout, but the arrival of the ship. It had crept over the horizon during the confrontation and was growing larger by the second. It was a small black bullet gliding forward on the silvery-blue sea; then a gun barrel; and now it was the size of my head, its masts flapping above it like an unkempt mane. The wood on its side was a patchwork of planks, replaced and repaired until it was impossible to discern which color had been the original. Its masts where quilts of white, yellow, and dirty brown. It’s bow and been charred, and as it bobbed up and down I saw green skum coating its underbelly.

“Are ship’s supposed to look like that?” I asked. Midnight shook her head. I threw a questioning eye at Hairpins, but she was still isolating herself.

A murmur went through the crowd as the ship drifted closer. It stopped a ways out and dropped anchor. A moment later a small dinghy floated around from its far side. I could see three figures in the small boat. Two paddled while the third stood tall, waving with a forehoof as they approached.

“Ahoy!” he shouted as he waved. “Ahoy, New Canterlot!”

“Ahoy!” Olivine replied, readying a rope. “Bring her in then.”

I heard several gasps from the ponies before me, and then I raised my own eyebrows when I saw what they had reacted to. The pony who had spoken looked as run down as his ship. He wore strips of navy blue cloth that once might have been a long coat. Splotches of hair were all that remained of his mane, and his skin sagged off of every bone making the brown spots on his coat puddle around his ribcage. The left side of his face was missing, the skull underneath beaming out from underneath a superfluous eyepatch. The lower half of his left leg had been replaced with a peg of wood, and the muscles were bare in his other three. A more grotesque ghoul I could not have imagined.

“Ahoy Captain Pipsqueak!” Olivine said in greeting.

“Oh how frightful!” Pitch exclaimed.

“Ah told ya’ ah’d seen far worse.” Hairpins muttered. She had started hefting our supplies onto her back while we were gawking. Midnight and I moved to help her as the dinghy was tied up and the captain disembarked.

“Avast, ye landlubbers!” Pipsqueak shouted the moment he was on solid ground. “Make way for your Cpatain, make way. Why does such a crowd greet us, mister Olivine? What is the cause for such honors? I come to restock and avast! I cannot so much as set foot on the rocks of thine humble home!”

“They seek passage, Captain,” Olivine replied, taking everything in stride. “If you’ll take them, we’ll restock for only half our usual trade.”

“Aha! How splendid, mister Olivine, absolutely splendid! It warns mine heart to hear it. Send thanks to that prince of yours and send your passengers along as they come. They will have to work, oh yes, for we cannot sail with idle hooves aboard, oh no, but all are welcome until our galley is packed and our bunks overflow.” He turned to the ponies gathered on the dock and shook, his one good eye losing focus and spinning every which way. The seizure passed as soon as it started, and he continued speaking.

“Ahoy, misters and misses of New Canterlot, and welcome to the Baltimare Beach’s Castaway Cruise! I am Captain Pipsqueak of the Aquateers, and we will be your sires and shipmates on this exciting journey to wherever it is you’ll be going. Come, come, we will ferry you aboard as soon as you are ready: first come, first serve. Don’t cluster now, don’t rush. There’s no need to be hasty, my fine fellows, we have plenty of room for you all, and if you fall into the sea then your rushing will be all for naught. Come now, step lightly, form a line. That’s the way, that’s the way...”

Olivine was speaking to the ponies around them as the Captain rambled on. I moved closer to hear what he was saying.

“He’ll get you where you need to go, I promise. You might have to remind him once or twice, but they’ve always been reliable... If they go feral? I’ve told you they were ghouls, that’s just part of the risk... No, the work ain’t hard, and passage is free otherwise... He’s not always aware, so don’t ever bring up his condition... Yeah, once, to Baltimare and back... No, never that far... Look, if you’re welcome to walk all the way to New Appleloosa, but don’t think I can pull another ship out of my ass... yes, just get your stuff and hop on...”

We waited as the ponies before us went in groups of three or four. Tulip, Shortcake, and the grey stallion from earlier where the last to cross before us. We walked up to Olivine as the small boat pulled away. He gave us a relieved smile.

“Last ones?”

“It seems so,” I said.

He nodded, then frowned. “None of ya’ll are returning, are ya?”

I shook my head. “Are you leaving as well?”

“No, but... it’s weird. Usually only one or two ponies ever want to take the ship when it comes. And for the most part all they ever did was sightsee... Gleaming wouldn’t let anyone go who wouldn’t come back, and they always had to travel with a guard... Now, watching all these ponies move on...” He sighed. “I already lost so many of my friends, I thought I’d be numb to it by now. But it still hurts...”

“It always hurts,” Hairpins said.

“Yes,” Pitch agreed. “And you never stop missing them...”

No more words passed between us. When the dinghy came back we stepped in, secured our cargo, and waved goodbye to Olivine as the ghouls rowed us out to the only ship I’d ever seen.

* * * * *

“Welcome aboard, misses!”

The captain greeted us as we stepped onto the deck. I was surprised to find the ship spic-and-span. The deck was clean, the ropes not in use neatly hung or tied securely, and the beams all looked robust and evenly worn. I saw several of the ponies from the Stable already meandering about, poking their noses into every nook and cranny they could find. Around them to crew worked to make this ship ready. I could easily tell the difference, as most of the crew were decrepit. The two ponies who had paddled us in were the most appealing—their rot was concentrated on their underbellies and legs. It was much easier for my mind to filter out than the half-smile of their captain.

The ponies on the boat—who had introduced themselves as Sparrow and Star Buck—escorted us to our quarters. We descended one level, moving through hallways full of crates and barrels. They pointed out the galley, the doctor’s quarters (“Though doc ain’t with us anymore,” admitted Star Buck), and then moved down another level to show us our rooms. All the living quarters were packed together on two sides of a small hallway, and we had to shuffle past a few other the other travelers as we made our way to the back of the line. Midnight and I took the room on the starboard side, while Pitch and Hairpins started unloading their supplies in the portside. The room was bare save for a straw mattress, smaller by half than the one we had rented in Bulbs, and had an unidentifiable musky smell.

“If any of you fare folk need somethin’, simply let us know,” Sparrow said. “Me or Mister Star Buck are here t’ make sure your sailing is as smooth as silk. If you can’t find us, the captain will know where we are, but I’d ask you not to trouble him much if you can help it. He’s always very busy.”

“Thank you,” Midnight replied with a short curtsy. “Can I ask where we’ll be going first?”

“Why, we’ll be setting off straight for Baltimare of course! Everypony here has signed up for the standard tour, so that’s what we’ll be doing! Afterwards, if you want to upgrade, just stay on and have your money ready. We’ll take you anywhere you want, so long as it’s where corporate says we can go.”

“Corporate?” I asked, turning my attention back to the rotting buck. “Standard tour?”

“Of course! You’re on Baltimare Beach’s Castaway Cruise! We’re proud to show you the most authentic sailing in these seven seas!” He smiled at us and, when we failed to react immediately, trotted happily away back toward the upper deck. Midnight looked at Hairpins, an eyebrow raised.

“Are they aware of their... condition?”

Hairpins laughed. “Nope, not in a way anypony c’n tell. Ah’ve never seen anything like it. They keep this ship ship-shape, but as far ‘s any of th’ NCs know they still think they’re workin’ their pre-war job. They’ll get us where we need t’ go. We jus’ gotta play along.”

“They’re stuck,” Pitch added. “I saw it in a few of my colleagues. They’d respond to me, but they just kept on trying to carry out their work, even after the power went out and our experiments became impossible. I... well, I used to talk to them, but eventually they started paying more attention to the others than me.”

“Ya mean th’ zombies?”

“Well, yes... it’s like they were stuck in their old life, and the ones who had already lost themselves pulled them out of that loop. I don’t know if I could have pulled them the other way... I don’t know what I could have done...”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “There’s a lot of things you can’t control. Trust me. I know.” She nodded, and I felt her despair abating.

“Well,” Midnight said, giving me a mischievous smile. “It looks like this will be an interesting voyage. I’ve never played sailor on a real ship before!”

Hairpins laughed again, but this one was bitter. “Ya’ll can say that again... interesting is right...”

I turned to look at what had changed her mood. It was Tulip, emerging from her own room. She met our gaze with a sneer. She turned, flicking her tail at us, and trotted away with her nose up. I sighed, waves of scorn and rage crashing in my mind.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get our stuff put away...”

* * * * *

The voyage to Baltimare was short. We spent a day at sea before pulling up to the city. Captain Pipsqueak anchored the ship almost a mile off shore, still under the delusion that the docks were where they had always been. Most of the passengers got off there, Star Buck and Sparrow happily rowing them all the way to the nearest outlet before returning for the next few ponies. It took them almost a full day to transport everyone who wanted off.

I spent that time wandering the ship, as I had done the previous day, looking for potential hiding spots and taking stock of what resources were aboard. I did not expect a fight; but I had no reason to expect an uneventful journey either. Besides Tulip, I had several exceedingly powerful foes wandering the world: Unity, Chrysalis, and the Pegasi up above us. I had rarely considered the latter before now, yet as when we had first pulled out into the open ocean the clouds above us had finally abated, revealing the brilliant blue of the afternoon sky. Midnight and Pitch had spent that first day staring at it with awe and nostalgia respectively. Hairpins refused to leave her cabin, citing nausea. I, meanwhile, had been driven below decks by my paranoia. I felt exposed without the cloud layer. I feared an army of Enclave soldiers swooping down upon us, intent on dissecting me.

Today, however, I quickly grew bored of my wanderings. The ship was big, but most of the space was devoted to storage. And most of the storage was empty. The captain and his crew spoke of their need of supplies, but stopped short of actually eating anything. There was no foodstuff, medicine, nor valuables beyond what we had brought on. Only wood, rope, and whatever else was needed to repair the ship. I thought little of it. I could coax good feelings out of Midnight and Pitch whenever I needed. I had plenty of food.

But... they don’t...

I stopped in my tracks as the thought hit me. I hurried back to Hairpins’ room, knocking at her door. It opened reluctantly, and she poked her head out.

“Yeah?”

“I just realized. How are you going to get more food once we run out? Our supplies can’t last us the journey, can it?”

“Oh, ‘s that all? Yer right, it won’t last us, but ah didn’t intend it too. There’s a port ‘r two on our way, an’ we c’n get th’ captain t’ stop fer us. Like ah said, they’ll get us where we need t’ go ‘s long as we play along.”

“Oh...” I turned to go back to my wandering, then stopped. “Hairpins, how do you know all this?”

She pursed her lips, then sighed. “Well, t’ be honest, ah’ve sailed with this ship a time ‘r two b’fore. I know th’ ropes.”

I stepped back toward her, using a hoof to open her door all the way. She raised an eyebrow.

“Why haven’t you told us this?” I asked. “Why do you keep changing your story?”

She sighed again. “Ah told ya’, ah don’t trust ya’ t’ do th’ right thing.”

“Then why the hell are you helping me at all?” I demanded. “Why did you get so mad at Tulip, yet you’re willing to travel with me? We both screwed you over; we both hurt Tumbleweed. I don’t understand why you’re here. Do you care or not?”

“Ah don’t know!” Hairpins took a step back, looking anywhere but at me. “Ah... ah don’t know what ah’m doing anymore.” She finally met my eyes. I could feel the sorrow within her, the grief and rage. As I focused on her emotions, I found myself utterly calm.

“Why did you agree to help us?” I asked.

“Ah been lost ever since that day. Every since Tumble died ah... well, ah’ve started t’ have some regrets... ah been questionin’ a lot of what ah’ve done with mah life.”

“...like the slaving?”

She huffed. “Ah told ya’, I didn’t—I didn’t think ah had a choice. You want th’ truth? Ah’ve been thinkin’ back on all th’ things ah’ve done, an ah’ve realized something: Ah didn’t care. Ah tried not t’ care. My friends? My family? Ah didn’t love them. Ah didn’t think about them as soon as ah left their sight. Ah went away so ah wouldn’t have t’ be there when they died from raiders, ‘r disease, ‘r some stupid accident. Y’know, mah ma’ an’ pa’ ‘r probably long dead, but ah never bothered t’ check. Now that Tubers is gone, ah wouldn’t know who t’ ask. Ah thought ah was blause, bein’ strong in th’ face of all this terribleness, but t’was only apathy. Ah drowned myself in it. What was th’ point? Th’ only pony ah ever gave a shit about ‘s dead. Ah burried him, an’ ah didn’t even get t’ say goodbye.”

The tears in her eyes did not fall, but she did not try to hide them. She glared at me, face twisted in pain.

“Ah buried Fishhooks an’ Holster too. An’ y’know what? Ah felt nothin’. Ah’d lumped them with Boss long b’fore he betrayed me. Lumped them with mah parents, an’ everypony ah’d ever known. They’d been dead t’ me th’ whole time. Ah planned t’ die in Bulbs. Do what ah could t’ help everypony leave, an’ then walk south ‘till ah couldn’t no more. Then ya’ll come along, tellin’ me there’s a magical heart? In the Crystal Empire? To a place that only ah had ever been? It was too good t’ be true. Ah figured you were playin’ us both; that you’d extracted some memory from me an’ were using us t’ get yerself more victims. Ah been waitin’ fer th’ other shoe t’ fall, but here we are... on th’ sea, headed exactly where ya’ said ya’ wanted t’ go...”

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. She stared at me.

“Promise me, Worker. Promise me yer tellin’ th’ truth. Promise me yer done decivin’ us. Promise me yer tellin’ th’ truth about the Crystal Heart.”

I took a deep breath, suppressing a twinge of annoyance. I had sympathy for her situation, but she had not expressed any regret for what she had done to me.

“I promise,” I said. “Everything I’ve told you is true—as far as I can know. The Empire might be empty. Chrysalis might be dead. But if they aren’t, we need to be there first. And we need you to show us how to get there.”

Hairpins nodded. “Thank you, Worker. An’ ah’m sorry. Sorry fer what ah did t’ ya’, an’ that it took us this long t’ get this far.”

My smile was genuine. “Thanks,” I said. “That means a lot to me. And I’m sorry for hating you for so long.”

“Ha! It was only, what? A month?”

“It was my whole life, back then.”

“Ah guess that’s true...”

“Well, I’m going back upstairs.” I said. “They must be through most of them by now...”

“Alright. Ah’m still stayin’ here... an’ Worker? Thanks fer talkin’ t’ me.”

I nodded once, then trotted away.

* * * * *

I ran into Midnight on the stairs leading up to the top deck.

“Bad news,” she told me with a smile. “Tulip is staying on; she’s coming with us.”

“What!?”

“Not with us—she’s sailing further on, just like us. I don’t know where she intends to stop. I just thought I should let you know. I was on my way to warn Hairpins about it.”

I nodded. “Good idea. I just spoke with her. I think she’s starting to trust me more... I think I’m starting to trust her more too.” A smile came to my face. “It’s nice.”

“I’m glad to hear that... Cathode. You’re making new friends already! I told you it was worth the effort.” She laughed at me. “Well, anyway, I think it might be a good idea to move our bunks elsewhere if she doesn’t do it first. Just to avoid any further tension. I don’t know how much longer this voyage will take, and we need to last until the end...”

I nodded in agreement. “Alright. Thanks for letting me know.”

We parted ways after that, and I was left in a warm glow. I had felt Midnight’s pride at my news, and it felt good to make amends. That was something I had never done before, I realized. Ponies were either with me or against me. I had been unable to entertain the notion that my enemies might be forgiven, that our relationship could change so drastically.

I arrived on deck the moment the ship began to move again. The sea was already turning black, color draining as the light left the world. The wind rose as the sails bloomed out above me, and I shivered despite the layers of my dress, armor, and fur. Ghouls scurried back and forth across the deck, shouting and doing whatever it was sailors do to start sailing. I looked around for Tulip or anypony else who might have stayed one, but it seemed that they had retreated to whatever depths they planned to spend their evening in. I did see Professor Pitch, however. She was staring our at the ruins of Baltimare, the strands of her hair twirling aimlessly in the air.

“Professor,” I said. She turned to me, eyes glassy.

“Oh, Worker... or, I guess I should call you Cathode? What are you doing here?”

“I wondered if you remembered anything more about the Crystal Empire, or the Heart.”

“Oh.” She furrowed her brow. “You know, Hairpins brought it up last night before we went to sleep. Strange mare, she kept asking me questions but I felt like she knew most of the answers already... Anyway, it did jostle my memory a little bit! So much history has been forgotten. All this ruin... I can’t imagine what the Empire will look like by now...”

“You were saying, about your memory?”

“Well, I don’t know too much about the specifics of the Heart’s power, but I do know it could control the weather. Or, at least, stave it off.”

“Really? The weather?” I looked up at the clouds above us. I knew by now that the pegasi were responsible. A permanent cloud cover, locking us away from their riches. Or locking themselves away from our troubles.

“Yes. Without the heart, the Empire is covered in a terrible blizzard. Hairpins didn’t get close enough to experience it, but she did recall snow and ice on the mountains. Nopony knows what causes it, only that without the Heart, it rages constantly. I don’t know how we’ll manage, but there’s plenty of time to gather supplies. And a port town or two exists in the north. I’m sure they will have the supplies we need.”

I nodded, hoping she was right. “Anything else you remember about the Empire?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, my dear. I never travelled much. Roll and Yaw—my brothers—might have couriered up that way in the war’s early days, but I only ever asked how they were doing after they joined the front... and to be honest, I mostly care if they had met Rainbow Dash or not... I always clung to the fantasy that I’d meet her through them somehow... oh!” She turned to me, and whispered excitedly. “Could you do it? Just for a moment?”

I glanced around to make sure nopony was in earshot. I wanted to say yes. I knew she would like to see her Hero, but I didn’t want to get her hopes up. “I don’t think I can,” I said. “We can’t imitate the dead.”

“Oh drat!”

“But—” I whispered, licking my lips. “There have been some strange exceptions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can... well, I can imitate Rarity. I don’t know why. She should be dead. But I can disguises as her without any issues.”

“Really? How strange... can you become any of the other Ministry Mares? Applejack? Twilight?”

I shook my head. “I tried Applejack once. Gleaming even threatened to kill me... but I couldn’t do it. I know what she looks like. I have plenty of memories of her, but it works as expected. In that it doesn’t.”

“How extensively have you tested this?”

“Uh, tested?”

“Oh, follow me! We’re going to get to the bottom of this right now. Come, come on!”

We returned below decks. Midnight and Hairpins were conversing in the first of our rooms, so we hurried into the second and shut the door. Pitch had me try all of the Ministry Mares, convinced she could find a pattern. I had never bothered to attempt the others until now. Some part of me was still repulsed by them; or else I was starting to feel guilty for using Rarity’s image.

The results were... bizarre. I could disguise as Rarity, as always, and Twilight Sparkle was easy as well. When the transformation for Fluttershy worked I gasped, but when I tried Applejack and Pinkie Pie my magic refused to so much as channel.

“Well, only one left. Oh, I do hope it works...”

I thought of the multicolored mare, and as with the first three I felt my magic beginning to reshape my body. A green glow surrounded me, my power growing, and then... the spell stopped. I opened my eyes, and the world was tinted green as my magic pulsed around me. I blinked in confusion. I felt my magic working, ready to reshape my body but unable to finish producing an image. My power coursed through me, but doubled back into my mind, unable to complete. I realized it was looking for something. A target that existed but was also somehow not anywhere to be found. I had to pull my magic back.

“What was that?” Pitch asked. The green glow faded, and beneath my dress my armor relaxed back against my true body.

“I... don’t know.”

A moment later Midnight and Hairpins knocked on the door, curious about the strange light. We told them what we had been doing.

“Yer tellin’ me that the Ministry Mare are still alive?” Hairpins asked too loudly.

“Shh!” I hissed. “And, maybe. As I said, Twilight Sparkle’s mind is part of Unity—”

“Ah still don’t know if ah c’n b’lieve that...”

“—so she is, I guess, alive enough for my magic to work on her. But the others? Even Spike had to admit Rarity should be dead. And Fluttershy?”

“Only the Earth Ponies seem truly dead.”

“And yet, Rainbow Dash is an... almost? I can’t explain what just happened with her.”

“Oh! Maybe...” Pitch held up her statuette of Rainbow Dash. “You said Gleaming showed you one of Rarity and it worked. Maybe there’s something magical about these? Some part of their essence or their fame left in them?”

Something less than a complete mind... I felt the coldness again.

“No. The one I have is of Applejack. And magically, they feel identical. No pattern there.”

“Hmm... that is strange... Did the others make their own Unities? Did they lock themselves away in some stasis? And why only them? Why not all six, if the Ministry Mares were so powerful they could cheat death?” She shook her head. “Oh but it would be just like one to hide her secrets from all the others...”

“What do you mean?” Midnight asked.

Pitch shook her head. “I was never one for politics, but everypony knew they were hiding things from each other. Every Ministry had its secret projects, all trying to spare the others from having to solve the same problems.” She sighed. “So much more would have been done if they had only worked together...”

Hairpins shrugged. “Well, ah don’t know if that’s really fair... hell, even Celestia couldn’t do anything t’ stop th’ war. Ah don’t care how fancy yer magic is, if th’ Goddesses couldn’t do it nopony could.”

“I didn’t know you were very religious,” Midnight chided.

“Ah mean, it’s just common truth.”

“Oh phooey!” Pitch interjected. “I don’t like thinking about Celestia. I don’t understand ponies who worship her. Or even how she could have been respected in her time. If she had had an ounce of fight or foresight in her there wouldn’t have been a war in the first place!”

“What? What do you mean?” I have Midnight a confused look, which she returned. Hairpins looked taken aback.

“Let me frame this for you.” Pitch began. “What is a megaspell? It is the combined power of multiple unicorns, focused and channeled into one task. That’s what makes it so powerful.”

I didn’t see what she was getting at, but I did not interrupt her.

“Before Celestia and Luna, who raised the sun and the moon? Unicorns. Multiple unicorns. An entire race of unicorns. That’s what it took. It only takes about a dozen or so of them to pull off a city-destroying megaspell, yet it took an entire race to raise the sun. Celestia achieved that feat everyday for thousands of years by herself. She had the power of all the unicorns in the world and did nothing to stop the war.”

“One thought and the power on the Sun itself would have rained down on the zebra race and ended their wasteful and ignorant tirade,” she barked. “They say the zebras feared the stars. They should have been taught to fear the Sun. But they were not. Its shepard was weak. Because of Celestia half the world was laid to waste and countless generations were scoured from the earth. Now countless more suffer and despair for no good reason. Armageddon should have rained down on the Zebras on day one and we would still be living in prosperity.”

The three of us gawked at her in stunned silence.

“I didn’t realize you felt so... strongly,” Midnight muttered.

I nodded, feeling the bubbling anger inside the old ghoul, but a part of me rejoyced at hearing someone else tear into the image of the dead monarch. Before anyone could change the subject, I decided to probe a bit futher: “What about Luna?” I asked. “I suppose she was just as bad?”

“Worker?”

“Oh—No. I do not blame Luna. Her powers were quite different than her sister’s. Hers were of the night. Subtle. Manipulative. Of mind more than mater. She was cautious, contemplative, and crafty. Celestia had a blinding presence and raw power. Luna had a quick tongue and a cunning mind. That was why she was better able to wage war than her sister. She was more fit for that game. The Ministries pushed forward as she lashed them from the darkness. She drove the great machine of Equestria’s war effort while her sister did nothing. Luna did all she could after Celestia had done her least, and the world died because of it. Luna was smart, but no amount of intelligence saves you from balefire.”

I nodded, then glanced at my other two friends. Midnight was frowning, and Hairpins was still flabbergasted. I felt Pitch’s anger start to recede.

“Er, sorry. For the rant. But I just... I’ve had a long time to think about these things and nopony to talk to about it. You really hit a nerve.”

“It seems so,” Midnight said. “Let’s try to hit more pleasant nerves from now on...”

“Aye, ah agree. No offense, but... ah’m not sure if ah b’lieve yer view either. Goddesses ‘r Goddesses. It ain’t good luck t’ question ‘em.”

“Ah, you’re all young. You’ll start questioning things eventually. But anyway, where were we before that tangent?”

“Politics,” I stated. “And before that, the Ministry Mares.”

“Oh right. Well, anyway, long story short, assuming you are correct about how your powers work, which I have no reason to doubt, then we can deduce that, in some form or another, Twilight, Fluttershy, and Rarity are alive somewhere. Or at least, their minds or souls are still stuck in this world.”

“So they’re ghosts?”

Pitch shrugged. “Or ghouls. Oh! Worker, try to disguise as me.”

I had come to the same conclusion. I tried, but when I had transformed it was only to Pitch as she was now. I quickly tried to disguises as Boss, Tumbleweed, and Garlic, ponies I knew were dead, and still found myself unable to do so, confirming that my magic still worked as I thought it did. I finally reverted to Cathode.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Pitch muttered.

We mused over it for a few more moments, but by now the evening had worn on and were all soon yawning. Hairpins and Pitch excused themselves, and Midnight blew out the light as I settled onto the straw bedding before me.

The night was pitch black; my dreams again cold. The chill in my mind spread throughout my body, making me shiver. I heard voices whispering, rising to a shout, and with a jolt I woke. The sensations left my mind as soon as I became aware of them, the memories already fading. I lay still, listening to Midnight’s breathing and the beating of my own heart. Slowly, I reached out with my mind. I sensed nothing around, not at first. Then, slowly, I sensed the strange fragment of feeling from the statuettes. First one, then two. The ones I carried in my bag. I focused on them, and, suddenly, another appeared.

I gasped, standing up. I focused on the sensation. It was nearby... I stepped outside, noting how the sensation shifted. I walked a few steps down the hallway and stopped, baffled. The sensation came from behind Tulip’s door. I sat before it in the darkness, wondering why she would have another of the statuettes, and what the cold sensation meant. I began thinking of a way to investigate further, but as I let my senses continue to expand. I felt a fourth spot of coldness. It was much farther away, but still it must have been on the ship...

What the hell is going on here? I wondered. What are these things?

I could feel weariness returning, but I was too curious to go back to sleep. I followed the fourth fragment of mind, risking a little light from my horn to guide me into the ship’s bowels. I passed through the quarters where the crew slept—or, at least where they claimed to sleep. The ghouls stood before each hammock, staring ahead blankly. Their rasping breath reminded me of my crawl above the horde of zombies in Pitch’s lab. I quickened my pace, but none reacted to the sound or light I made. The coldness grew stronger as I stepped down the stairs.

I had to look deep into their stores, pushing barrels and sliding crates aside with muscles and magic, but I was driven to find the source of this cold. Was it really another statuette? Which mare? Was it some other trinket? Finally, I zeroed in on it. The sensation came from a rusted lockbox with busted hinges. I pried open the top. As I suspected, another statuette was there, sitting in tattered red silk.

Pinkie Pie. The Element of Laughter.

I picked it up, turning it in my magic. The coldness was the same as the other two. I stared at it for long minutes, but no revelation came. I had no idea what was going on. There were two other trinkets in the lockbox: a shattered purple gemstone and a scrap of paper. I scooped up the larger pieces gem and put them into my bags next to Pinkie Pie. Any words the paper might have had were long since faded.

I shut the lockbox, then moved everything back into place where it had been. I sighed. I would worry about the coldness from Tulip’s room tomorrow. I trudged back to my room and crept back inside. My eyelids were heavy, but I made sure not to disturb Midnight. I let my mind wander, and drifted off. I wondered if recovering more of the statues was a good idea. They were clearly associated with the nightmares I had been having.

Perhaps I should throw you all into the sea...

I slept soundly the rest of the night.

* * * * *

Three other ponies had stayed on besides Tulip: Shortcake, and a pair of sisters named Turquoise and Topaz. They were an identical shade of blue, the only difference was Turquoise’s spotted white mane. When I first noticed them I introduced myself, and asked them their reason for staying.

“We’re getting off at a small port called Neighline. It’s a longer walk to Tenpony from there, but we’ve heard there’s less perils along the way. Fewer ponies out there, so fewer raiders and whatnot,” Topaz answered.

I nodded, remembering Fugax and his bloody tank. I was hit by a sudden pang of guilt. Perhaps I should have found a way to warn the ponies who were traveling through Baltimare... but they were in a large group. If they were sensible they would stick together.

“Is that why the others stayed on as well?” I asked.

They both shrugged. “I hope not,” Turquoise said. “They were both Steel Rangers, you know. We lost our parents to the war they caused. I wouldn’t want to travel with them.” Topaz nodded in agreement.

“So, why did you stay?”

“We’re heading north.” I saw no reason to lie. “As far north as we can go. To get away from it all.” But of course there was no reason to tell the whole truth.

Topaz frowned. “It’s very cold up there. Ah, already the wind here is too much for me.” Both the twins shivered.

“I know,” I said. “But we’re prepared. Snow keeps away raiders, I’m sure.”

“Well, best of luck to you all. We’ll be seeing you around.” We nodded our farewells, and parted ways.

I meadered around the ship, doing my best to keep track of where everypony was, but I did not get a good opportunity to sneak into Tulip’s room. She was holed up there most of the day, just as Hairpins stayed confined to her own quarters, and the few times she did exit were too brief to guarantee I could have left no trace. The bathroom was only a few paces away.

When I saw no progress could be made, at least on this day, I sought out my only other lead: Shortcake. She and Tulip had continued talking after their first encounter, and I had seen them eating together in the mess hall the day before. Strange that Tulip seemed to befriend the mare that had held her down, but I would take what fortune I could get.

Around midday I found her gazing out at the horizon, contemplating the waves. The sun was above us, the heat soaking in around me. She did not turn to me as I trotted up to her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I commented.

She nodded. “I still can’t believe it. I just... I still can’t wrap my head around how much water is out here. I’d never even seen a beach before we marched on the Fields.”

“I wanted to ask you something,” I said. “About Tulip. I noticed you two seem to be on friendly terms.”

“Oh, um, yes. I guess we are.” The flare in her emotions took me by surprise, but I stifled my urge to probe further and went on with my original question.

“Has she told you about any, uh, strange objects she might have?”

Shortcake tilted her head to look at me. I felt her go on the defensive. I decided to be direct.

“Specifically, a small statue of Rarity, the ministry mare. I heard it was one of Gleaming’s prizes, but when I asked around for it in the market, none of the NCs seemed to know where it went. I had given up, but I thought I glanced it when I passed by her door earlier today. I would have asked her, but... well, you were there when she saw Hairpins. I don’t know if she resents me as well.”

Shortcake blinked, then furrowed her brow. “Why do you want it?”

I pulled out my Applejack statuette. “I’m collecting them!” I smiled innocently. “The ministry mares... they remind me of better times. They’re proof that things can get better.” I was very proud when I first thought of that line.

“Huh. Well that’s odd, but I guess it’s good to stay positive. Cathode was it? Sorry, but I don’t know anything about Tulip’s things. She hasn’t brought it up with me. I can mention it to her, if you’d like, though.”

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. Thank you.”

“Ah, no problem.” She shrugged. “Someponies’ gotta be friendly on this ship. Especially since we’ve got such contensius pasts between some of us.”

I nodded, smiling wider. “That’s a great point. We don’t need any more fights breaking out. Thanks again.”

Shortcake turned back to the ocean, and I turned to leave, but I paused. Her posture was odd; she was trying to keep most of her weight off of her forehoof. Perhaps the muscles hadn’t all grown back correctly. I grimaced, still feeling a bit guilty. What if we had worked things out instead of brawling? Would she be my friend now? Would she hate me like Surprise did for abandoning her? It was strange to think of the choices I had made or those that had been made for me, and how all these instances had coalesced into the path I was on now. How much of that history had been my doing? How much had a I really affected things?

“Do you need anything else?” Shorcake asked. I realized I was staring.

“Uh, no. Sorry. I just... I’m sorry about your leg... what happened to it. I had a friend with a similar injury. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Huh?”

I trotted away before she could formulate a response.

Stupid, I thought to myselff. You should know better than to say something so incriminating.

Yet I felt good when I returned to my room. Happy, or at least free of guilt.

* * * * *

I slept well that night, until I woke. I blinked in the darkness, my mind still groggy. Something had woken me. I remembered... a sound? A voice? I wasn’t sure. Midnight was beside me, still snoring softly. I let my senses expand, but felt nothing... not even the statue next door.

Strange...

Midnight twitched beside me. I got up slowly, and crept out the door again. The hall was empty. I stepped forward, stopping by Tulip’s door. Again I felt nothing. I double-checked my own statuettes. The coldness was still there. Faint, but there. I continued on, reaching out with my senses. I reached the stairs before I felt the fourth spot. It was deep in the ship now. Deeper than even Pinkie Pie had been. What was even stranger was that I felt two more presences nearby. I felt anxiety from one, lust from the other.

Before I could investigate further, I felt something hit my foot. I heard it roll away from me. It sounded small, and the sting in my hoof confirmed it was fairly heavy. I risked some light from my horn, my eyes on the place I had heard it roll. A glint came from behind a nearby barrel, and I stepped forward.

What is that?

I reached out with my magic as the object came into view: it was a small, crystal sphere. A very familiar-looking sphere. And I had already touched it.

Dread welled up within me even as my mind was pulled down into darkness.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

I stared at a mirror. A unicorn stared back. Purple, with a sky blue mane that sparkled even under the flickering fluorescent light above her. Her eyes sparkled too, glitter sprinkled over pink. Dark bags dropped below them, her mouth hung open a sliver. I saw the hint of teeth as white as snow. Her coat was matted with sweat and grime. I could feel her legs wobble underneath her.

Amethyst blinked once, then forced a smile. She was in a bathroom. A fan drowned out any noise that might have made its way in from outside.

“Mother, father. When you see this, I want you to know: we made it. The stable is safe. People are scared, but... well, it’s my special talent. They’re coming together. I’m making sure we’re all getting along. Most ponies aren’t friends yet... but at least we’ve got a goal to work towards. Scootaloo’s message gave them all hope. I could feel it in the air, almost.”

“I’m letting you know all this to show you: I’m safe. We are safe. Auntie Bon is here with me too. I’m sorry I’m not with you right now, helping the Empire, but these ponies... this stable... they need me more. Already they look up to me. They know who I am. They still see us as connected to Celestia... and we are, I think. We must be. The message they gave us confirms it. This must all be part of Luna’s contingency plan.”

“I’m sorry I can’t come tell you both in person, but... I love you. Mom, dad. I love you both. Please don’t worry about me. The ship that sent this message will be waiting for your response. They promised me, and they’re good ponies. We got very lucky meeting them: a cruise ship, out to sea when the megaspells when off. I will travel with them to join you once things stabilize. I promise.”

“May the Heart keep you safe.”

She smiled again, and I saw the tears glisten in her eyes. The room glowed a blinding white.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

I woke, relieved that the memory had been a short one. That feeling vanished the moment I felt the ropes around my legs. It was still dark, but a light shone from behind me, illuminating the wooden wall I have been rudely shoved against. I tried to breath, and realized a bundle of cloth had been stuffed in my mouth. I started to roll myself around, but froze when I heard a voice from behind me.

“We don’t know how long it’ll be out! And we’ll have to clean up the mess—” Tulip’s voice. My blood ran cold.

“I’m not going to let you just up and kill her!” a second voice hissed. Shortcake? It must be. “And especially not in her sleep. That’s disgraceful.”

Kill me? No. I needed to get out of this. I tried to move my legs, but the ropes were so right they had already gone numb. I thought about disguising as a filly, but I was still wearing my dress and armor. I would only get tangled in them once my legs were free. I saw nothing I could throw, and untying the ropes with my magic would cost me precious seconds.

Midnight! Somepony! Help!

“What do you want me to do, then?” Tulip asked, exasperated. “Do you want this thing roaming free? After what it did to you, and to me, and to who knows how many others? You heard what the Steel Rangers said. You know how it can control ponies. Well, I’ve seen it. Garlic, that idiot, slept with it once and fucked our lives over.”

“I heard what the commander said, yeah,” Shortcake replied. “I also read Kernel’s report. She did about as much good as bad for the fields, even before that last battle. You heard what all the NCs said. The only reason we survived as long as we did was because of her infiltration. Hell, we might all have died before Unity had anything to say about it.”

“This monster keeps following me. I hate it!” Tulip said. I felt her resolve strengthen as she stepped toward me .

No! No! Help!

“Hey!” Shortcake’s hooves cracked against the floor. She was closer now, probably blocking me with her body. I felt a rush of gratitude. “Did you forget how we got to this point in the first place? She apologized for something that happened when I attacked her. Does that sound like a monster to you?”

Please...

“Well, does it?”

“I... I just—”

“What under Celestia’s blue sky is goin’ on here?” A third voice drawled. I nearly cried in jubilation. Hairpins was here. I was saved. “Shouldn’t ya’ll be sleepin’?”

“You!” Tulip spat.

“Oh by Luna’s mane...” Shortcake muttered. “I was trying to talk her down.”

“Ah appreciate that, but ah don’t quite b’lieve it.”

“You... why the fuck are you helping that bug? After all this... why?”

I jerked myself around, managing to spit out my gag as I struggled onto my other side. Hairpins stood at the edge of my vision, her battlesaddle leveled at Tulip and Shortcake. A small lamp burned between the two mares, it’s light reflected in the knife in Tulip’s mouth. I shivered as they looked at me, drawn to the sounds of my struggle.

“Why are you trying to kill me?” I growled. “Why do you still care?”

“You ruined my life—!”

“Well I’m sorry,” I said.

She stared at me, mouth working on empty air. The knife clattered to the ground. “What?”

“What else do you want to hear? What do you want from me? Tulip, I don’t want to be near you as much as you don’t want to be near me. I’m sorry I screwed you over. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was literally days old at the time. I just want to move past this.”

She huffed defiantly, but I could see she had deflated. She glanced at Hairpins, then at Shortcake. The Steel Ranger gave her a pleading look. Her ears drooped.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Whatever. Just... ugh. Fine. Let’s just get through this trip and never see each other again.”

“Ah’d be more ‘n’ happy with that,” Hairpins agreed.

“Great! Now, please untie me.” I wiggled my legs for emphasis. Shortcake scooped up the knife and cut through my bonds. I stood after a few moment, leaning against the wall for support. Hairpins stepped forward to stand by me. Shortcake stood an awkward distance away, her gaze moving back and forth, unsure where to settle. Tulip was staring at the floor, ignoring us all.

“How did you know I was here?” I managed to ask. Hairpin’s frowned.

“Ah, uh. Had a dream ya’ were callin’ fer help. It woke me up, so ah came lookin,’ an’ then I heard yer shout.”

“I didn’t shout,” I said.

“What? Ah heard ya’ as ah’s comin’ down here.”

“No, she’s right. She didn’t make a sound until you came,” Shortcake muttered.

Strange, I thought.

Hairpins blinked at me. “Do that again.”

“What?” I suddenly understood what was happening.

You mean think? Like this?

“Celestia!” Hairpins shivered. “Ah don’t like that.”

“What?” Shortcake asked.

“It seems,” I said, “that she can read my thoughts. Or, rather, I can send my thoughts to her.”

“Are ya’ supposed t’ be able t’ do that?”

I shrugged. I started to hobble away as feeling returned to my limbs. I didn’t want to stay down here, and I didn’t really want Tulip or Shortcake learning anything more about me, even if we seemed to have reached a cease-fire. Hairpins followed closely, nodding her goodbye to Shortcake. The military mare nodded back, and as we moved away I saw her approach Tulip again—leaning in the whisper some comforting words, perhaps.

“I, uh... I don’t know,” I replied when we were out of earshot. “Only the hive ever had telepathic communication... and Unity. Ponies simply don’t have strong enough receptors, or pathways... or however it works. It’s a very specific type of magic.”

“So... what’s that mean ‘bout me?”

“I think that means... you’re my friend.” How else to access a pony's mind but through their emotions? It was what Changelings did. But this way required no deceit. No exploitation.

“Ha!” She suppressed the rest of her laughter. “Ah do b’lieve that’s the nicest thing ya’ve said t’ me in all yer life.”

“Worker? Hairpins?” Midnight greeted us groggily in the hallway before our rooms. “I thought... I dreamt I heard you shouting, Worker. What’s going on?”

I yawned, my adrenaline rush subsiding.

I’ll tell you tomorrow, Midnight. Let’s get some sleep.

“Alright, Worker...” she muttered. I smiled at the result of my test. Knowing I could talk with my mind was useful. Not quite as useful as full two-way communication, but a nice tool to have nonetheless. I laid down next to my friend on the straw mattress, and curled up to go to sleep.

* * * * *

A cold silence hung between Tulip and our group for the next four days. On the fifth we stopped at Neighline. Tulip, Shortcake, and the azure twins disembarked with little fanfare, and the ship set sail an hour after stopping. The sun crept up toward the zenith as I watched the tiny town recede. Captain Pipsqueak approached me, and handed me a small package wrapped in cloth.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Ah, I can’t rightly say, misses Cathode, can’t rightly say. Misses Tulip approached me as she was casting away and requested that it be delivered to ye. The fiery mare said that she was ‘leaving all her past together,’ and that ‘you should consider us even.’ Was there bad blood between ye? Some feud of thine families’ mayhaps?”

I took the package in my magic, frowning. I opened it carefully. Inside was the Rarity statuette. I sighed. Dammit, why did she have to do that? I was starting to forgive her.

“Thank you,” I told the captain.

“Happy to be of service, my lady! Always happy. But, if thee will excuse me, I must be off. The ship, she needs much attention. Yet worry not! The weather promises smooth sailing from here outwards. Ah yes, what wondrous fortune we have these past days! Such strong winds! Such calm seas! Ah, but avast! ‘Tis better to be gracious. No doubt our fortunes will change soon. As the saying goes: the fiercest storms follow the calmest seas. But I must be off, as I said. Avast!”

The seas were calm all the way to the end of our voyage.

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Swarm Leader - Your companions receive a +5 bonus to whatever skills are your highest and lowest.

Author's Note

Would you like to fast travel to [The North Pole]?
Yes
tfw 30 min cutscene

(Also here's another plug for my book!)

Chapter 17: The Crystal Caves

“Time is the longest distance between two places.”

We arrived at dawn, red streaks painted across the sky above us. My friends and I gathered on deck as the port came into view. Our breath fogged in the air, and bursts of wind sent chills through me, even with all my layers. Mountains loomed in the distance, dark and rising into the clouds. The silhouettes of buildings emerged on the shore as we approached. The land around them was dark, glinting with dew and slicks of ice. The town looked about the size of Seeds. Smaller, maybe.

“Welcome t’ Snowbite. Th’ last outpost a’ wasteland civilization, fer all that’s worth.” Hairpins scoffed at her own description. “Ah still can’t b’lieve ah’m back here.”

“We won’t need to stay long,” I said. Don’t worry about it.

She was worried about being recognized, I knew. The last time she was here she had been run out of town for attacking their mayor. I’d helped Midnight throw together a dress for her, and we’d scrounged up some old makeup to make her look a bit younger, but there was only so much we could do. We only planned to stay for a few hours at most. Get something to eat, get supplies, and then head out to the caves. Hairpins already knew where we would make our first camp.

“Ah’m not worried,” Hairpins insisted. “Ah’m just tired. Being up here’s bringing back too many memories. Ah lost a few friends up here too. Super-sized cave bats, like ah told ya’ll about.”

Midnight shivered. “That sounds unpleasant.”

“It’s a gruesome what they do t’ yer corpse, but they go fer yer neck, s’its not too painful.” She said it like it was a joke, but none of us laughed. Our minds and mouths were silent as the ship dropped anchor.

* * * * *

“Alas, that our journey must end here! I thank you kindly, misses and misters, for thine patronage and dear company. I pray we meet again, and I hope ye choose us next time ye sail. But avast! The seas are a fickle friend. Back we must go, before the winds turn against us. Shove off, mister Star Buck, shove off! Farewell, my fine patrons and friends, farewell!”

Captain Pipsqueak waved at us until the rowboat dipped behind the prow of his ship, but by then we had already collected our stuff and began trudging toward the town. The dock we had been dropped off on was missing a few boards, but it held sturdily as we trotted across. The air was still salty, but as we stepped onto a gravel road that went along the shore I noticed how clean the smell was. No undercurrent of fish or rain, no far-off scent carried by the wind; just salt. Everything else had been washed away by eons of snow, ice, and water.

The road was short, leading us directly into the town’s central plaza. We passed only two buildings before entering the square: a storage shack and a small jail. A pony with a blue hat stood outside the jail, and nodded to us as we passed him.

“Welcome. Inn’s just as you’re going.”

“Thanks,” I said, giving him my best smile. I was in disguised as Topaz. This way I could use my magic without anypony questioning me. And she was prettier than Cathode, which was always useful. “Is the market open yet?”

“Not this early, ma’am,” he replied. “Once the sun’s startin’ to go again, most ponies are pulled outta bed, I’d say. Best try the stores then.”

“Thanks,” I said again. Indeed, nopony seemed to be out at this time, so we headed for the inn. It was an obvious building, painted bright blue with yellow trim. A sign that had worn away ages ago still hung above the door, the only writing that remained said ‘I...n.’ I heard voices echoing behind the double doors.

“Huh, they lost a letter since ah been here last.”

Well, it gets the message across.

“True, ah guess.”

I lead the way, stepping through the door into the warm, dry air of the interior. It was a cozy room, longer than it was wide, yet with enough space for a row of circular tables to run down its center. I saw stairs leading up at the far end. Two ponies sat at the middle table, over half-finished plates of brown mush. They stared at the bar, which was to my left. It took up the remaining space, and had as much seating as the tables did in total.

One pony stood behind the bar, a stallion with a jet black coat. He stood at the edge closests to the door, washing a mug with a white rag. He glanced at us as we entered, nodded, and then turned his attention back to the other end of the bar. My eyes focused on what he was watching: a figure obscured by a smothering grey overcoat. A very large figure. My eyes widened.

“Is that a griffin?” Midnight whispered to me as she walked in.

“Could be,” Hairpins drawled.

No, I told them, now frozen with apprehension. Griffin are bulkier. And I see hooves on the ground. Blue hooves...

“Then what—?”

An alicorn. Unity.

My companions froze behind me. I felt Midnight and Hairpins’ emotions dampen as they readied for a fight. The other patrons gave us a curious look. The bartender tensed as well.

“Hello,” he said. “What can I do for ya’ll now?” I noticed he was manipulating something beneath the bar.

We might have to cut our supply run short, I warned. We could not risk fighting Unity, and causing a scene here would only guarantee that the cloaked alicon would notice us. Yet why were they here? Had Unity been tracking us? Waiting for us? Why? I saw no sense to that action. What would they gain by being here incognito? The only other parties who knew about the Heart were—

Oh. Of course.

Chrysalis.

The figure at the bar jolted up, overclock spilling to the ground. She faced us, her horn glowing reflexively. Her body was as it had been: shimmering blue, almost glowing, with dead, empty eyes. Now everyone was on alert. The bartender looked between us, his weapon visible but still pointed downward. He was as confused as he was alarmed.

You... child. Why are you here?

We’ve headed for the Crystal Empire. We’re trying to improve the world, if we can.

“Worker...?” I motioned for Midnight to stay back as I took a step forward.

Fool. What nonsense is that? You don’t even have a single piece of the Heart. What did you expect to accomplish without it?

I expected to find you in the Empire. And here you are. We almost beat you there.

Insolent—!

I am not your slave, Chrysalis. I was you child. You should have treated us better.

You were mine as you were of me; the Hive is it’s Queen. You are but an extension of me.

Then why am I not stuck in that body with you? Why was Fugax able to go off on his own? It was subjugation. You treated us as you treated ponies, like things to be used. Look at what I have done: look at the friends I’ve made. I don’t need to lie or deceive them to get their love and trust. I have found a better way, Chrysalis. And I am here to make sure that way can continue.

...yet it is hopeless without the Heart.

You have it.

You think I will give you the Shards?

Did they help you? Were you able to find what you wanted in the Empire?

I... have not reached the Empire.

Oh?

A storm guards it. The eternal winter that the Heart kept at bay is now keeping anypony from reaching it from the sky, and the mountains block any path from ground or sea. I do not have the power to reach it...

I felt her rage. She was so close, yet locked away from her goal. I smiled.

I have a way to get through. A way through the mountains.

Are you proposing we help each other?

Yes. The Heart’s power is inexhaustible. We can help you reach it, you can restore it, then we can both use it achieve our goals. A better world, and your old body.

My body comes first.

Of course.

“Then we are agreed,” she said aloud. Our mental conversation had lasted the span of ten or so seconds. Our minds were already very similar, so ideas passed faster than words would otherwise allow.

“Yes.”

She nodded, relaxing. Her horn stopped its glow. With one smooth motion she swept up her cloak, then strode up the stairs. She paused on the third step, and look back at us.

“I will be in my chamber when you and your ‘friends’ are ready to depart. Don’t keep me waiting too long.” She trotted away.

“What the hell was that all?” said one of the ponies at the table.

I gave him a charming smile. “Oh, we know each other. It’s complicated.”

“I don’t mean to be unkindly, but would it mind you to explain who ya’ll are?” The bartender had put away his shotgun, but still eyed us suspiciously. “Were ya’ too doing that mind-speak?”

Hairpins rubbed her head with a forehoof. “Ah truly wish they wouldn’t. Gives me th’ willies.”

“How do you know about that?” I asked the bartender. I had almost relaxed before his comment.

“The lady does it when she thinks about being sneaky. No clue who she’d be hiding her words from; we’re all friends around this part. Ponies talk.”

I frowned at his answer. “How long has she been here, then?”

“Near about a month. Lurked about the wastes for a while, few ponies only saw her sneaking around at sun up or sun down. The mayor finally got fed up with it and got together some folks t’ see what was what. She said she was looking to get to the Empire.” He tilted his head at us. “I presume you’re doing the same, since you know her.”

I nodded. “We heard a rumor about caves. A way to get through the mountain.”

The bartender rolled his eyes. “Every sucker that passed through this has said the same. Everypony of them’s a popsicle by now, or worse.”

“Popsicle?” I asked.

“Frozen. Dead. Lost. Caves are a dead end, I swear by Celestia. Empire’s been closed off for the lifetime of everypony in town, plus two, I guarantee.”

I ignored his warnings, not wanting to inadvertently divulge Hairpin’s identity to the townsponies. I was, however, still very curious about what Chrysalis had been up to.

“That mare,” I asked him, “did she tell you here name?”

“Has she told you?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“You seem to be on good terms. Is she a regular now? She trying to cozy up to you?”

“Ah, you got more alicorn stories in you, then? Alright, I’ll level: I was suspicious of her at first. She wouldn’t give us a name, for a fact, but after we confronted her she showed up at market and started helping out around town. Her magic’s been a right handy, helped us fix up the town a bit faster and all, so we’ve let her board up. The mayor’s thrilled about having an alicorn as a friend, but she’s made clear she only want one thing outta this. And nopony here can help her get across those mountains.”

“Well, we’ll do our best. Thanks for the info.”

“Best a’ luck to ya. You should leave your names with the warden, or the mayor before you leave.”

“Why?”

“Best to remember you by. It’s nice when we can put down the names of the mountain’s dead.” He laughed at my exasperated sigh. Midnight giggled with him.

“Come on,” I said. “Let's get ready and head out.”

“Already?” Midnight asked. “I thought we were going to rest a day.”

“Change of plans,” I said. “With her here I don’t want to wait. If there is a way through, then she might stop thinking she needs us. We should get this through with before her pride overrides her better impulses.”

“Well put. And what about after we make it through? Is she going to... be a problem?”

I frowned as I stepped toward the stairs. She had agreed to my plan, to share the power, but I was not so stupid as to believe she would keep her word. I needed her because she had the shards, and her power might prove helpful for actually getting through the caves, but I knew she did not like to share. Things had ended poorly between us, but maybe, if she could restore her form, she might again see me as something worthy of love. As her child. Or... as her slave. The odds of an amicable outcome were slim. But to fight her? To kill her? I had not yet allowed myself to think those thoughts. I wanted to get away from her, not revenge. A bitter taste filled my mouth.

We’ll just have to see how things go, Midnight, I thought to her. We’ll just have to see...

* * * * *

Chrysalis joined us with little fuss, carrying with her only the cloak and a saddlebag full of, presumably, the crystal shards, and whatever else an alicorn needed. I stepped out of the inn’s cramped quarters and shivered. Midnight and Hairpins did as well.

“We’ll need some thicker clothes,” Hairpins drawled. “Otherwise our s’plise should be ‘nuff t’ last us a week or so.”

“Is it cold?” Pitch asked, looking curiously between the three of us and Chrysalis. “I guess I can’t really feel temperature anymore. Hmm. I guess that makes sense, if my nerve endings are decaying...”

“Well, ‘s about t’ get a lot colder, once we head off t’ th’ mountains. You should swaddle up, even if ya’ can’t feel it. Frostbite still gets the flesh, dead or alive.”

We headed back out to the town square. As our luck would have it, the first ponies to set up their stall were a couple selling all nammer of knit blankets, scarves, and long sweaters. Hairpins stood back while Pitch, Midnight, and I picked out garments for all of us. Once we had decided what we needed, I let Midnight handle the bartering process. I was still no good at haggling.

I glanced back at Chrysalis as Midnight spoke to the couple. “Is that cloak enough for you?”

“Yes. I do not feel the cold,” she stated.

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you afraid of being recognized?”

“What are you babbling about?”

“Your cloak. Why wear it? You stand out by your size alone.”

Her blank eyes narrowed at my words. I felt I had hit a nerve.

That is none of your business.

I had definitely hit a nerve.

“Alright!” Midnight declared before I could probe further. “We’ve got a deal, Worker. I’m ready to go when you are.”

I nodded. We rejoined Hairpins and took a moment to wrap ourselves in the new clothes. Midnight and I had matching green sweaters with red caps that were almost too big for our heads. Pitch was wrapped in several layers of sweaters, scarves, and spare clothes to make up for her complete lack of fur. Hairpins had an orange sweater to match her coat, a red scarf, and a pair of grey ear muffs. Over all this she still had her battlesaddle and saddlebags. I still had my custom armor on beneath my clothes.

“Did you know those ponies?” I asked Hairpins, referring to the couple who had sold us our garb.

“Ah didn’t want t’ get close enough t’ risk findin’ out.”

I smiled at the city guard as we passed him by. He smiled back, nodding his goodbyes. Before us was a barren waste. Frost and dew had turned the ground into mud which had frozen into a glimmering brown slush. It crunched beneath our hooves as we followed Hairpins’ lead. The crunching grew louder as the frost turned to ice, and then to packed snow. We found ourselves surrounded by white powder. Fog billowed from our mouths and nostrils, dispersing into the air or rushing up to join the swirling, dark clouds far above. The mountains loomed nearer and nearer.

I’ve never been so cold!

Me either, I thought.

Midnight jumped, throwing me a quick glance. “I didn’t mean to share that,” she told me. “How long have you been hearing me?”

“Just that one,” I said. “Sorry, I don’t actually know how to control it. Or, rather, I don’t know how to teach a pony how to control it. It’s just something I can do naturally. Like moving a leg.” I looked back at Chrysalis.

“Don’t look at me, child. Our minds are only meant to talk to those within our hive, or those whom I have subsumed into it. You wanted friends, you can figure out how this friendship-hive is supposed to work.”

Ah don’t know if ah like bein’ part of a hive...

Don’t listen to her. She’s never had any friends.

Isn’t she your mother? Pitch asked. It was the first time she had joined in to our thoughts. Shouldn’t you be nicer?

After everything she’s done to me?

Oh, I suppose you have a point...

Parents-shmerents, ah say. If she doesn’t try t’ do somethin’ evil with that heart ah’ll eat my own—

“How much longer?” Chrysalis asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between us while we conversed.

“Not far,” Hairpins said, tossing a smile back at her. “Not far at all, ma’am.”

We walked on for another hour.

“Welcome,” Hairpins declared. “To the Crystal Caves!”

The mountain slope loomed before us. A dusting of snow drifted down from above, adding to what was gathered on the rocks around us. The entrance to the cave was barely visible, a thin black crack in the white and grey ground. I heard a faint wind whistling in the distance. The cold nipped at my nose, but I was still warm in my wrappings.

“That’s it?”

“Aye. It’s bigger once yer inside, ah promise.”

Midnight giggled at her words.

“Lead us in,” Chrysalis demanded. Hairpins gave her a side-eye, but trudged forward. I followed behind her as she slipped into the crevasse in the mountainside. I had to wriggle through with all my layers of clothing, but Hairpins had not lied. The cave widened almost immediately. The five of us were able to stand comfortably just inside the entrance, and Chrysalis was able to stand up straight without brushing the ceiling.

“Incredible,” Pitch stated. “I never would have known this was here.” Midnight nodded in agreement.

“Ah know what ya’ mean. It took us a whole week t’ find this place th’ first time ah was here. An’ we had a good tip too, from one of th’ failed expeditions b’fore us.”

“And where did they get their information?” Chrysalis asked sarcastically.

“From th’ expedition b’fore them. Ah figure it goes all th’ way back, t’ some point where somepony knew how t’ get all th’ way through, then the next pony they told forgot th’ details but knew where t’ start.”

“Makes sense,” Midnight said. She stepped forward into the darkness, and channeled her magic. Her horn glowed, illuminating the rock around us. Black glistened back at us, stretching out before us and banishing into a somehow even deeper darkness. A few patches of ice coated the cave floor, which sloped down gently before us.

“How far will we have to travel?” Chrysalis asked.

“Well, ah don’t know. If ah’d made it t’ th’ other side b’fore, ah wouldn’t be here now.”

“And what, exactly, stopped you and your companions from getting through?” Chrysalis asked.

Hairpins shrugged. “We got lost, stumbled out half starved, an’ decided never t’ come back again. Now, let’s go. Ah’ll do mah best t’ lead us in a direction that don’t look familiar.”

* * * * *

I soon understood how a pony could get lost. The caves were not a simple chute or even a mess of roads like the Fields; they were a labyrinth. Not a minute’s walk from the first cavern the single path split off in five different directions. One continued straight, two smaller holes lead off to the left, one snaked right on a severe downgrade, and the last was just above it, within jumping distance, and seemed to twist upwards. Hairpins had taken the rightmost tunnel, and swore that her group had exhausted all its branches. The tunnel next to it is where she had gotten lost.

“We go forward,” Chrysalis stated. “It will be the easiest to return to.”

I glanced at Midnight and Hairpins, but they only shrugged. It’s a good idea as any, Pitch agreed.

I stepped forward. Behind me I heard Chrysalis channel her magic, and I turned in time to see her blasting the ground with a laser from her horn. She was searing an arrow into the rock, to mark the way back. I nodded in approval.

“Good thinking.”

She said nothing in reply.

I lost track of time as we made our way forward. Twice more the path split, first into three, then into. Each time we picked the path that was closest to straight forward as we could. There was little reason for it, as the tunnels themselves wound and curved, so our orientation was obliterated long before we had reached the second branching.

The sound of our hoofsteps echoed off the rocks around us, somehow adding to the silence. It was broken sometimes by the drip of water from far away, or the crunch of pebbled beneath our hooves. I tried to think of something to talk about, or even think about, but nothing came. Midnight’s horn gave us a small bubble of light. Beyond it the darkness was all-consuming. The rock materialized from it and then returned to the void behind us. Our journey through Maize had unnerved me, yet it was nothing compared to this. My mind skipped passed terror into a numb denial. I could not let myself think about where I was. I would have gone mad with fear.

“Fascinating,” Pitch muttered for the thousandth time. She was in awe of the caves, finding interest in each new rock or trickle of water. This time it finally occurred to me to indulge her curiosity.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh. The rock, it’s fascinating to look at. I am no geologist, but I’d like to know exactly how these caves came about. It’s very... odd that they would form like this. There’s so much space, with so little water flow or even evidence of erosion. They seem almost designed.”

“Designed?”

“I don’t know if the Chrystal Empire did it—I don’t know why they would—but you can see, it’s all very smooth and angular, not a sign of natural erosion at all. Very strange, especially if so many paths lead to dead ends, as we must assume.”

“Or else there is more than one way in,” Chrysalis intoned behind us.

“Perhaps...”

“Well,” Midnight said, coming to a stop before us. “I sure hope you’re right.”

I turned my attention back to her, my eyes going wide. We had reached another split. This time it was wide cavern with seventeen tunnel entrances. Most were the size of a single pony. Only two or three would be big enough to fit Chrysalis. I let out a sigh.

“Let’s take a break,” I said. “I think it’s evening, anyway.”

“An’ ah’m hungry besides.” Midnight nodded.

* * * * *

We slept after eating, I do not know for how long. I woke first, feeling mostly rested. I channeled a dim light from my horn and looked around. Chrysalis was peering into one of the tunnel entrances, Pitch at her side. I raised an eyebrow and trotted over. The alicorn sent pulses of light from her horn, then waited. After a moment she muttered something to Pitch, who nodded in response. Then she sent another series of pulses.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Oh!” Pitch jumped at my voice. “Goodness Worker, you scared me. We’re taking some measurements. We don’t sleep, you know, and I figured it might help us get through a bit faster.”

“Measurements? How?”

“Yes, with some improvised sonar. Chrysalis has very limited magic—”

“This body has limits, not me!”

“—and I don’t know much about spell casting anyway, so we can’t use a sound spell, but I realized we could get to the same effect with very careful manipulation of a heat laser spell. Heat gradients can produce pressure waves which is really just what sound is. So we’ve been probing the depth of some of these tunnels.”

“Neat... I guess. Do we know if any lead anywhere?”

“We’ve eliminated a few that definitely go nowhere, but it’s very hard to judge by ear. The one thing I can say for sure is that the four largest ones do indeed seem to go on for a long while. They’re worth pursuing.”

I nodded. “Well, that’s good. I’ll go wake up the others, then we’ll decide what to do.”

I roused the others and filled them in. Chrysalis suggested splitting up to cover more ground, but Hairpins rejected it vehemently. It was far to dangerous, she argued, and I agreed. I saw no reason to risk all of us getting lost on our own. Better to get lost together, if we had to get lost at all. We chose the largest looking tunnel, then went through.

We wandered the darkness for two days, and exhausted all routes that tunnel lead us to.

We doubled back, moved into the next tunnel, and wandered for another three days.

“Here,” Chrysalis stated. She was searing another arrow to mark our latest choice. I had lost track of where we were, exactly. We were at least seven tunnels in, but after trudging through dozens and dozens of identical caverns each and every bend had all blurred together.

“How are our food supplies?” I asked.

“Still got about a week’s worth, ah figure. And we still got plenty t’ bargain with, if we retreat.”

I nodded, not bothering to reply. I asked the question at least once each day, and Hairpins had said something similar each time. Plenty of food. Plenty of time to retrace our steps.

* * * * *

Another three days passed. We were back at the seventeen-tunnel split. The third largest tunnel loomed before us.

“It is shorter,” Chrysalis stated. She had been practicing the spell technique Pitch had come up with as we had wandered. Apparently she had grown more sensitive in her measurements. “It will end after a while, or else it narrows severely enough to make no difference.”

“How long until we’d reach that end, do ya reckon?”

She shook her head. “I do not know.”

“I can do another day,” Midnight offered. “We can make it back to the town in just one day, and that leaves us plenty of wiggle room.”

“Ah, tho I miss th’ sun...” Hairpins drawled.

Pitch and I looked between the two, then at each other. “Well,” I said, “you’re the only two that need food. If Hairpins feels like we need to go back now...”

“Nah, Midnight’s right. It won’t hurt to cover what distance we can. ‘Specially if we know there’s a dead end or two t’ find.”

I started forward, eager to find another dead end. I had long ago stopped hoping to stumble upon an exit, and found myself satisfied each time the cave walls came together to block our path. It was one less unknown. One more trail finalized on our map of this place.

The tunnel gradually widened as we proceeded through it. Soon puddles of water began to form at our feet, and soon they grew to shallow pools we could not help but splash through as we walked. The ground became more varied, rising and falling more dramatically. Small spikes of rock poked up up from below and above us, and the trails of water that had created these features twinkled in Midnight’s light. The air here seemed warmer.

“Stalagmites, stalactites... This seems more naturally formed,” Pitch commented. “I wonder, did the Empire create these caves, then? But I know they had a train system before the war... why such a complicated path? Surely the Heart was enough to keep anything threatening at bay... Unless it predates the Empire? I wonder...”

I listened to her mutter on. I enjoyed her speculations, even if they ended inconclusively. Though she claimed to have forgotten a lot, I could always pick out little bits of information about old Equestria, or the mechanics of the world, or even just new words. I glanced back as I heard her come to a sudden stop. We were in the middle of the widest pool we had found thus far. The water was barely up to my fetlocks, but the chill of it crept up to my spine.

“Hairpins,” she asked, voice low and soft.

“Yeah?” The orange mare turned her ears back toward the ghoul but kept trotting forward, toward me. Chrysalis had stopped to look down curiously at Pitch, just at the edge of the pool. Midnight was at my side.

“You said you lost your companions in these caves, and we saw a wall of names in Snowbite, but... these caves have been completely empty. Not even a skeleton, yet there's nothing here to cause decomposition. Where are all the bodies?”

Hairpins stopped to look back this time. I saw her brow furrow in thought as mine did the same.

“Yer right... ah have no idea...”

Chrysalis shrugged, then stepped forward into the pool of water. Pitch followed automatically, even as she continued to speak. Whatever she was saying was drowned out by the deep cracking sound that boomed around us. The tunnel shook. Water splashed around me as we all tried no to topple over. The light from Midnight’s horn sent shadows dancing on every wall. My eyes lost focus on anything but the stray images of rocks. Then there was another great cracking sound, and I felt my stomach leap into my throat.

I realized I was falling.

Oh no.

Oh Celestia!

“Aw fuck!”

I gasped, the air forced from my lungs. I was in water. I was in freezing water. The chill had already drenched my clothes. I felt my limbs going numb. I felt my lungs burn for air.

Help! Somepony!

Not like this, please!

What the fuck!? What the fuck!? Fuck!

Their cries filled my mind.I had to move. I had to act. I had to save them. I triggered my magic.

I’m here. I’m coming for you. Midnight, use your light.

As a seapony I could see through the murkiest of waters, but that power was useless when no light source was present. I wriggled out of my outer layers with my flippers and tail, letting the soaked cloth sink into the darkness. The water was still cold, but my new skin gave me some resistance. I could keep moving. My body would not start shutting down. At least not yet.

Midnight! I need your light! NOW!

A flare erupted above me. In the pure, clear water it might as well have been Celestia’s own sun. In one sweep I saw three bodies falling into the darkness around me, bubbles trailing their paths. I saw no ground or sky or structure of any kind. We were silhouettes floating in a void, drifting downward.

Help! Help!

I dashed to the lowest one. It was Hairpins, judging by the battle saddle. I grabbed her mane in my mouth and jerked upward, swimming with all my might. We broke the surface, I heard her gasp, and then I darted downward. Already Midnight’s light was fading.

I’m coming, I’m on my way Midnight!

Worker...

I had her by the mane. I was swimming upwards. Her light flickered.

One more second...!

I had to support her as she took her first breath. But I could not afford to wait.

Help! Help!

I’m coming, Pitch!

I tried to dive down again, but Midnight clung to me with her forehooves.

What are you—!?

Worker... she’s already dead...

No, I can save her! Let go—!

“Worker—” She coughed. “She’s already dead—a ghoul.”

Oh. Right.

Oh goodness. Pitch thought. I completely forgot. I... yes, it seems I’m fine. Cold, but the water in my lungs doesn’t seem to be an issue.

I almost laughed. But then something else occurred to me.

Hairpins? Hairpins where are you?

Paddlin’. Ah don’t know how much long ah c’n keep this up... it’s too cold...

I started to move toward the sound of her splashing, Midnight still in tow.

“We’ve got to get to land... we’ve got to get... dry...” Her teeth chattered in my ear. Her light still burned weakly. I reached Hairpins, and had both the mares wrap their arms around my torso. It was awkward to swim at the surface like this, especially with my armor and saddlebags, but it was the best I could do.

Sorry professor, you’re on your own for a bit.

Oh don’t spare a thought for me. Get safe!

I swam on, looking for any sign of an end to the water. Then all at once a flipper scrapped against rock, and I found myself beached. I undisguised as Hairpins scrambled out of the last few feet of water. Midnight tried to stand, but she was already too weak. I gripped her neck with my mouth, careful not to bite through any skin, and dragged her up next to Hairpins. Both mares were on their sides, breathing heavily.

Get... clothes off...

I was shivering just as they were, but managed to help them wriggled out of the sweaters and scarves they had been wearing, now heavy with water. I shoved them aside, along with our saddlebags and equipment. We huddled together, trying to get as much body contact as possible, shivering in total darkness.

Thank Celestia...

Gratitude flooded my senses. I did not hesitate to eat it.

* * * * *

“Where th’ hell,” Hairpins asked once our shivering had reduced to an occasional shudder, “is that damned alicorn?”

I have been thinking the same thing. I’ve reached out, but I can’t sense her anywhere. She should have fallen with us...

Did she drown? Midnight wondered, a wave of concern passing through her mind. What a terrible way to go...

I haven’t seen anything but rocks down here, Pitch interjected. And I would be surprised if an alicorn could drown... but then again, I don’t really know what mutations Unity underwent. Oh dear, I do hope she hasn’t died. I think we were starting to become friends...

Really? I asked.

Oh yes. We talked quite a bit whenever you were asleep. She was very interested in some of the theories on science-magic coupling. I think she was trying to find a way to fabricate a new Chrystal Heart, or at least replace a piece.

Just one piece? Does she not have all of the Shards after all?

Hmm... I couldn’t say. Honestly, I was just happy somepony shared my interests. I didn’t think too hard about her motivations, but now that you bring it up...

None of that will matter if we can’t find her again. Whatever pieces she has, only she has, Midnight thought.

An’ none of that will matter if we don’t find a way t’ get th’ hell out of here. Ya’ found anything yet, Pitch?

As we had been communicating, I had begun to get a picture of the thoughts passing through my mind. I was the mediator for all of our thought-speak, and the more we spoke the more firm the connections between us. As Pitch wandered the dark depths of this underground lake I became attuned to the distance between us. My telepathy, it seemed, took some time to travel between minds. Although this lag was nearly imperceptible, I realized I was tracking her unconsciously, using Hairpins and Midnight as reference. She was not as distant as I had first thought, and was moving very slowly. Perhaps the water around us was not as infinite as the darkness suggested.

Pitch, I thought, interrupting whatever exchange she had been having with Hairpins. Turn to your right, then walk forward.

My right?

Yes, just like that. Okay stop. Now walk forward. Try to stay in a straight line. We need to find where this water ends.

Oh yes, I know, but there’s not current. How do you know I need to go right?

It’s complicated... I can feel how distant you are from me, sort of. Just trust me.

Alright worker, I’m walking. I’ll let you know when I find an edge.

And I’ll let you know if you start wandering off.

I felt her move away and then, gradually, I felt her begin to rise closer even as the distance between us increased. I smiled, letting her know she was on the right track. Hope radiated from all three of my friends as Pitch hit a steep slope.

I can feel the pressure dropping!

She was still blind when she stepped out of the water, but at least we knew the limit in that direction. She began to circle back toward us, following the curve of the smooth shore.

You’re close, Midnight stated. I can hear you swimming toward us.

What? I’m not swimming...

Chrysalis?

I turned toward the new sound. Something was splashing toward us. I swivelled my ears around, and thought for a moment I was hearing an echo. I realized I was hearing another splasher. Then another. My veins turned to ice as the surrounding darkness frothed with sound.

Turn up yer light!

The three of us grouped together, back-to-back-to-back. We had left our supplies to dry on the rock around us, and did not have time to dawn our armor. As Midnight’s horn light up I could sense my companions taking stock of their weapons. Midnight held a shotgun in her magic, and had her eyes on her saddlebag where her extra ammunition was. Hairpins held a pistol in her mouth, cartridges beneath her hooves, not having enough time to equip her battle saddle. I levitated two knives before me, knowing I was not good enough with a gun at close range. The splashing surrounded us.

Their eyes glowed in Midnight’s magic light. The figures burst from the water, icy spray stinging my skin as I moved to meet their charge. The monsters were small, almost the size of a filly. Their flesh hung from their bones, wet and decayed hair dragging on the ground around their hooves. This was all the detail I could take in before I slashed at the first one, driving my knives across its face and into its soaked coat. A shrill braying noise surrounded me as Hairpins and Midnight opened fire.

On your left!

Midnight, throw me ammo!

Step back, everyone!

Right! Right!

The monsters did not stop screaming. I slashed and cut at my attackers. As soon as I pushed one back into the lake another was already leaping at me. I slashed one through the face twice and still had to back away as it tried to bite my face. Another three stabs through the head took it down, and it slid back into the water. The next one that charged me was already missing a chunk out of its neck. Whatever these things were, they were zombified.

“Fuck!”

Hairpins broke formation, dodging away from a pair of monsters into the darkness. I tried to compensate, turning to bring my knives down on them. I dragged the blade through their skulls and jumped to Hairpins’ side. Midnight was there a second later, ammo floating around her even as she blasted another beast with her gun. Water lapped at our hooves. We had nowhere else to retreat to.

Another wave fell. I heard a gun click.

“Worker, knife!”

I tossed one of my weapons to Hairpins and she brought it down on an enemy just a moment before it would have put its mouth around her neck. Three of them were coming at me, climbing over corpses that still crawled forward. I charged forward, not wanting to be overwhelmed. I embedded my knife in the head of the middle monster as I jammed my horn into the throat of the one on the right. I twisted, using its body as a shield, and shoved all three of them back into the water. Two rose, and I manged to take one down with my knife before the other was on me. I blocked its teeth with a forehoof. I pushed up with my other foreleg and ripped its jaw off, then drove my blade into its eye. A shotgun blast ring in my ears, and something slumped against me. I stepped back toward Midnight. Something hit me from behind. I rolled forward, flying forward to avoid stumbling. I twisted in the air and brought my knife down blindly. I hit the thing across the nose, then fell on it, pinning it long enough to stab through its brain. Two more figures were on me, biting my leg, biting my neck. I screamed as I brought my knife down. The one on my neck released, but no blood spewed from me. I jumped and twisted to avoid another attacker, landing on the back of the monster that was gnawing on my foreleg. I saw the new one running at Hairpins’ back. I threw my knife into its back, knowing where to hit the spine. I turned my teeth to the one below me, tearing out a chunk of its neck. I swallowed without thinking. I rolled toward Midnight’s position, hearing more shotgun blasts, but I was tackled to the ground. Pain split through my head as I hit the rock. I felt another set of dull teeth chomping at my neck, painful but not immediately fatal. I felt pain from Hairpins and Midnight, dread from Pitch. Panic raced through all our minds. Rage erupted into my chest.

Not like this.

Pain swept through me as I triggered my magic. My body grew, my wings expanded, my forelegs formed into claws. Hunger flowed through my mind. My attackers were driven back by my transformation, but only for a moment. As they leaped back at me I drove my beak downward. Their flesh was soft, weak from years of decay. I ripped them apart with beak and talons, swallowing flesh to sustain my form. Midnight’s light was not enough to stave off the darkness now. I did not register my attackers anymore, or weather I sustained any injuries. I felt the minds of my friends, and killed anything else. I gagged as the taste of rotten meat filled my senses, but my stomach absorbed the matter before it could think to be sick. It was not enough. Weakness filled me. I slashed and stabbed and bit, but the monsters did not relent. I could still hear them swimming. I could still hear Hairpins shouting as she cut at the horde. I could still hear Midnight’s gun. I could still sense their fear.

But the delay was enough.

I dropped my disguise the moment before I passed out, and found I had a moment to breathe. I was covered in gore and surrounded by corpses, but Midnight and Hairpins still stood. The sound of their splashing had lessened. Their war cries echoed faintly.

Help me get this thing on!

Hairpins had immediately taken advantage of the respite. Midnight and I scrambled to her side and helped her put on the battle saddle. We finished up just as the splashing got close again, then jumped back into our formation. Midnight took up the pistol in her magic, with plenty of ammo for both her weapons. I had both my knives back.

Round two.

Three figures jumped at us from the water. Three bodies slumped to the ground a moment later.

The cave went silent.

* * * * *

“They look like... ewes...” Pitch said when she rejoined us. “Rabid, decaying ewes.”

None of us bothered to reply. Hairpins was ready with her battle saddle while Midnight and I salvaged our supplies. Between the fall, the water, and the battle we had lost more than just ammo. We had just under a day’s worth of food left, half our healing potions had been shattered (thankfully the ewes’ dull teeth had not caused more than pain and bruising), and all our bandages and warm clothing were thoroughly soaked. The clothes would dry eventually, but the medical supplies were less resilient. Only three packages of gauze and one roll of tape had survived.

Once we gathered everything up we did what we could to clean and ready our weapons. I knew from Pitch that the shore was not very far. I was not strong enough to fly Midnight and Hairpins over, but I could move our supplies safely through the air. It was a slow but sure process. After our things were safely across, I disguised as a sea pony and ferried Midnight through the water. I stayed with her until she had dried again, then went back for Hairpins. Pitch had stayed with her, but now crossed with us, paddling slowly. I had to fly back to the island to retrieve Hairpin’s battle saddle, and then our transition was complete.

Again we pressed our bodies together for warmth. It reminded me of my hive; of resting with my brothers and sisters, pressed together and awaiting our Queen’s next command. This was a different sort of intimacy. Bodies close but minds still separate. Well, more separate than what I was used to anyway.

Midnight, I thought, are you alright? You’re still shivering. I knew it was not from the cold.

You know, I’ve never been in a battle. A few fights, sure, but nothing like that. Nopony’s ever tried to kill me for no reason. I always had something besides a gun to fall back on, or the other ponies in Seeds to look out for me, but here I felt so... naked...

The three of us were already shoulder to shoulder, but I put a foreleg around her and squeezed. Hairpins gave her a friendly nudge.

“Ain’t no thang. Ah’m sure half th’ wasteland ain’t seen shit like what we just did. Even zombies don’t come in groups that large. Ya’ did good when ya’ needed to.”

Midnight hugged us both back. “Thanks.”

* * * * *

We warmed ourselves as best we could and gathered our things. Our saddlebags, thankfully, had dried quickly, and Pitch volunteered to carry every article that was still wet. I was grateful for her help, but felt a bit guilty of taking so much advantage of her condition. I had been mostly ignoring her since we had fallen into the water except when she could be useful for getting us to safety. But now that we were in (relative) safety, I realize how bravely she had acted during the ordeal. I would not have been able to keep my composure if I had ended up at the bottom of the lake, surrounded by darkness, lungs full of water. Undead or not, I would have been driven mad with panic.

“Thanks,” I told her.

“Oh, it’s no problem dear, really.”

The next step was figuring out which was to go from here. We had lost all sense of direction long before falling into the water, and the combined light from Midnight did nothing but reveal a few more feet of rock around us. The darkness was all-consuming.

“If only Chrysalis were here,” Pitch muttered. “You’re sure you can’t contact her at all? There’s not way she would have ended up very far away.”

I shook my head even as I reached out again with my senses, probing for some other mind. Where could she have gone? Surely she would not have died—

I stopped in my tracks. I felt something. Not Chrysalis, but something. I focused on it.

Ah.

Worker? What is it?

I felt another cold spot. Another statuette, far off in the distance. I double-checked the ones I had. All were accounted for. There was a new one somewhere, not quite in the same plane as me, but very close to it. I told my friends what I sensed.

“Well, somepony probably had one on themselves,” Pitch stated. “So it’s probably at a dead-end.”

The coldness surged from the figurines in my bag. I shivered. Did I even want another one? Whatever they were, they had grown more... well, not powerful, but more aware since I had brought them together. A fragmented mind... I had compared it to such when I first sensed it, but now I was beginning to believe that to be what they literally were. If I gathered all (presumably six) of them, would that be enough? The rational, survival-focused part of me wanted to dump them all out into the water and never think of them again. But my curiosity had long ago won out. I wanted to know what they were. I wanted to see what bringing them together would do.

“I think it’s worth checking out,” I said. Midnight agreed with me. Hairpins had no comment.

We began walking slowly forward as I honed in on the feeling. It was distant but it’s direction was clear. We moved in silence for what felt like an hour but what could have been mere minutes. Suddenly the cavern walls greeted us, and our progress was turned leftward. A tunnel opened up, and I gasped.

We had been lead to the den of our attackers. A trails of wet hair and encrusted rot ran into a passage filled with bones. We stepped through with our weapons at the ready. Midnight’s light was almost blinding. Crushed and broken skulls stared up at us, splinters and dust twinkled. They had been picked clean. If any of these ponies had carried supplies with them, they had been lost to time, or chewed to nothing but rabid ewes with nothing else to do. I kicked at one of the bones near me.

“Ah think we found yer answer, professor,” Hairpins stated. “About where th’ bodies went.”

“I didn’t know bones were so shiny,” I said.

“They aren’t,” Hairpins drawled. I raised an eyebrow at her.

“These are though?”

“Oh!” Pitch gasped. “Normal ponies don’t sparkle, but crystal ponies do. This is fantastic!”

I felt Midnight’s shock at her comment. “Pitch? These ponies died horribly...!”

“Oh, no, I’m not that heartless, I only mean—have any of you ever seen a crystal pony?” We shook our heads. “Exactly. Even in my time they never left the Empire. They tried to remain as far removed from the war as possible. I seriously doubt any would have ended up on our side of the mountains, let alone get lost trying to get back, which means that, for any of their bones to end up here—”

“We must be headed in the right direction,” I said.

“Well, we must be connected. I don’t know about close. Although, I don’t know why rabid ewes would be down here in the first place... I guess it stands to reason we might be closer to the exit.”

“Th’ tunnel keeps goin’ back. Let’s follow it fer a while.”

“I think we should check out the rest of the shoreline. There might be more tunnels,” Midnight said.

The cold spot is still ahead of me. I think this tunnel might be the connection. I thought.

“Well, I guess I’m outvoted,” Midnight stated. “Let’s go.”

I kept my focus on the statuette’s aura even as the tunnel twisted away from it. We wandered for a long time, stopping sometimes to huddle or check on the garments we still had. When our armor finally dried we hissed and cursed as we put it on. It was frigid at first, but after a few minutes of shivering together they became wearable.

“We’re close,” I said. “I can feel it.”

The tunnel narrowed. We had to walk single-file up a bumpy slope. Something glittered before us. I stepped closer and realized it was snow. My heart leapt. I felt the cold spot reaching out to me. I broke into a trot.

“Worker!?”

I sprinted up the last few feet, hooves crunching through untrodden snow. The tunnel ended, and daylight reined. A pure white expanse lay before me. I was at the center of a circle of mountains, which extended far back beyond the horizon. In front of me I saw distant structures buried in snow. They formed a roughly circular pattern, getting bigger as they radiated inward. In their center rose the tower, still brilliantly shimmering. It channelled the sun’s light like a prism, sending rainbows streaking through the sky. There was more blue above me than I had ever seen in my entire life. My eyes watered at the sight, hurting after so long in the dark.

It’s so beautiful.

I heard the others gasp as they appeared behind me. My own trance did not break until I heard Hairpins weeping. I pulled my gaze away to see her curled on the ground. Midnight shook next to her, tears running down her face.

Ah could die. Ah could die right now and it would all be worth it...

Was it like this? Was this what Equestria looked like before the war?

No, Pitch answered. She did not share the same joy as I felt in all three of us. Something deeper filled her mind. Nostalgia, or melancholy; something that went beyond regret or wonder which came from a lifetime I could not fathom. It was green when I saw it. And full of life. Utter hope and desolation mixed in the same image.

“We can make it green again,” I managed to whisper. “Even if we can’t bring Equestria back.”

* * * * *

The cold spot was a few paces away. I brushed away snow to find another skeleton. It stared at it for a moment, confused. I had seen nothing like it before. It looked like that of a pony, but with two long teeth and a few strange notches on its back and head.

Oh, I realized. It’s a changeling.

A Fluttershy statuette was lodged between its forehooves. I tried to recall what we had been doing here. What they had been doing here. Looking for love, I knew. The Empire was the last place we had tried to persist. But why had the statuette been taken? Was this just a last, futile attempt to eek out some love?

I put the small yellow figure into my bag, and piled snow over my long-lost sibling.

Are we ready? I asked my companions.

Yes, they answered.

Chrysalis or no, the Crystal Empire awaited.

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Telepathy (Level 3) - All minds are open to you, and you may now send and receive complete thoughts to those you are familiar with, even over great distances.

Author's Note

Another chapter! Only three more to go until it's all over! :O

Happy Holidays! Or, close enough I guess.

Chapter 18: Failure

“I just don’t know what went wrong!”

“Pitch? Isn’t there supposed to be a huge storm?”

We were about halfway to the city’s outskirts when Midnight asked the question. We all stopped and looked at her.

“Oh. Your right. That’s what I’d been told.”

I glanced back at the mountains we had come from. The clouds still loured there, crowning the mountain peaks with dark greys and black. Their smooth edges spoke of high turbulence, Pitch informed us, suggesting the wind was fierce up there. Yet within the Empire it was serene.

Maybe the storm moved on? Or died down?

Maybe th’ pegasi are finally doin’ their job...

Both options are doubtful, as far as I know. Hmm... truly perplexing...

We could come to no further conclusion, and the day was turning to afternoon. We didn’t have time to wait around. We needed to find shelter in the Empire, and start a fire if we could.

We found a set of rusted metal bars along the ground when we reached the outskirts. Old train tracks, Pitch explained. That rubble over there was probably the station. It was little more than a cement foundation covered with snow and wood that had been frozen through. Further on we found more indiscernible rubble. And then the first body.

What shocked me was not that we found somepony dead, but that we found somepony preserved. The figure stood in the frame of a small house, encased in clear ice. It was a crystal pony, its luster made all the brighter by the shine of the ice that surrounded it. Its coat looked as if it had been brushed only the day before, and its mane stood up as if freshly gelled. But its eyes had been frozen through. The matter in its skull had hardened and expanded, leaving only a chunky whiteness where pupils should have been. I saw evidence of similar burstings from its veins and arteries. Clots of black blood pooled at its extremities and along its underbelly. Brown crystal poked through the most congested regions. The stallion had been flash frozen where he stood.

“Oh fuck,” Midnight muttered. We all felt each other's reactions, but that did not dull the horror. My stomach churned, and even though I looked away I could still see it through Midnight, so strong was the impact it had upon her mind.

“An’ ah’d thought ah’d seen it all. Let’s keep movin’ b’fore ya’ll get sick.”

“Well, on the bright side,” Pitch stuttered as we pulled ourselves away. “I’ve just learned that I can’t vomit anymore. I think my stomach muscles have atrophied away.”

Another wave of nausea struck me. “I did not need that detail.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Most buildings were in ruins. Untold time under the snow and ice had collapsed roofs and shattered walls. Pitch explained to us how water expands as it freezes, and how even rocks could be split in half by the slow cycle of melt and expansion as the seasons went by. If we found a roof it would be a miracle.

We found more frozen ponies as we explored. First they were just inside the buildings. But as we wound our way through the streets more and more began to appear. Some were posed in conversation, others I saw carried saddlebags or pulled carts behind themselves. One was on his hind legs, waving a newspaper above him. The rest were lost to time.

“What did all this?” I wondered.

“I have no idea,” Pitch said, poking at the block of ice that surrounded a mare on a bench. “Whatever it was, it happened all at once. Some magical disaster?”

“Maybe when th’ Heart failed this is th’ result?”

“Seems reasonable...”

“Well, let’s not join them,” Midnight said as she shivered. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this cold.”

I nodded in agreement. My nose and ears were numb, and my shivering had become rhythmic enough that I was starting to ignore it. Hairpins looked unfazed, somehow. She had collected scraps of wood as we had moved through the city. We’d found a faded book in a drawer and all of us were dragging several large planks behind us. We had enough for a nice fire, yet we had found nowhere suitable for shelter.

“I think,” I said. “We’ll have to try the castle.”

It loomed above us, three legs rising from the ice to support that massive central tower. Made of crystal and coated in ice, the whole thing glistened. From a distance it had sprouted rainbows, up close it was covered in a shimmering aura of color. The thing looked almost alive, radiating a blissful happiness over the cold death at its feet. I could not see the top of the tower, so intense were the reflections and refractions of the light.

We stopped probing the ruins and headed straight for the castle. We followed the streets and the journey was easy. The temperature dropped as we neared the tower. It was hungry for light, its shadow bringing an ever deeper chill. I almost longed for the air of the caves. It was stable there; even the light breeze that whistled through the town cut me to the bone.

The central plaza below the tower was full of frozen ponies. They were so densely packed we had to double back several times as we found our way blocked. Many looked like they had been selling wears or serving food. Another marketplace. This chill had come so suddenly...

We found an entrance at the base of one of the legs. It ran straight up, uniting with two others at a resting area. Two guards were stationed here, each encased in ice. I stared at them for a long while, fighting with my bad memories. They both looked like New Canterlot soldiers. Same white coat. Same blue hair. Even a similar military demeanor.

Odd. They’re not crystal ponies.

The inside of the castle was well-lit. The walls themselves pulsed with light. No doubt some spell had imbued them with such power a long time ago. It was a miracle that it had persisted for so long... perhaps it absorbed the light from outside? Pitch would be interested in studying them, I knew, if we had the time.

It’s incredible, Midnight added.

We proceeded through the castle. The first floor was bare except for a reception room and an empty storage space. A central staircase connected every level, but I still could not see all the way to the top. We were winded by the time we made it to the second floor. This place was massive. It would take us quite a while to explore all of it.

Let’s find a room and rest for the night. Tomorrow we’ll go looking for what’s what.

We all agreed. The first room we found was a lounge, with three old couches and a table still set for tea. Shelves full of what were once books lined the back wall, and decorative curtains were set on the other two. The cloth in the room was remarkably preserved: it only shredded when we touched it instead of disintegrating. We decided against starting a fire in such a confined space, instead stacking the couches against a wall such that two propped up one above our heads. The small fort was just big enough for all of us to squeeze into, and kept enough air in so that our body heat could build up. Pitch volunteered wordlessly to keep watch as we slept, and plopped down near the door with a stack of tomes that looked like they might still have some readable paragraphs inside.

I curled up the moment we finished the set up. Hairpins shrugged off her battle-saddle and joined immediately. Midnight squeezed in between us. We let out a collective sigh, already feeling the increased warmth. I knew I was not the only one with aching legs from our journey, and it was nice to finally have something to sleep on that wasn’t rock.

Goodnight, everyone...

* * * * *

When I awoke, Midnight and Hairpins were already up.

“Ah’m just sayin’ we gotta start thinkin’ about long-term survival.” The strain in Hairpin’s voice jerked me awake. I felt anger and repulsion form Midnight as well.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, stumbling to my feet. The air in the room was cool, but tolerable.

“Hairpins has a terrible idea,” Midnight grumbled. She was frowning at the older mare.

“Ah’m just bein’ practical... look, Worker, ah was jus’ thinking: we made it here, sure, but Chrysalis is gone, we don’t know how t’ get back through the caves, an’ nopony else knows how t’ get t’ us. We need t’ think about how to survive. Like, make a home here fer a while, probably. An’ that means shelter, water, an’ food.”

I nodded, eyes widening a bit. I hadn’t really considered the long-term of our situation. We were trapped here, effectively.

“Shelter we got covered, an’ we got plenty of wood fer heat an’ meltin’ snow. Food’s the big problem. Th’ only source of any sorta nutrition is...”

“The ponies in the ice,” I said, already knowing her thoughts. I shared Midnight’s revulsion.

“Yeah...”

I turned to Midnight. “You know she’s right.”

“We could at least consider some other options,” she retorted. “This was an Empire, surely they would have had stores of some kind? We haven’t explored much.”

“Ah know, an’ ah agree. But whatever froze everypony here did so all at once. They wouldn’t a’ been able t’ prepare or put away any foodstuff they already hadn’t set aside. We might get lucky an’ find some stuff that’s still good, but we gotta be realistic. We need t’ think about the long-term. We could be stuck here months, dependin’ on how fast we can find a way back through th’ caves.”

Midnight stared at her hooves. The three of us stewed in the silence. I frowned as another thought struck me.

Pitch? Where are you?

Oh! Are you awake? I’m in the library!

“She let us know she was leaving,” Midnight informed me. “She already went through all the books in this room.”

You should come. I’ve found a few interesting things.

* * * * *

The library was on the third floor. We passed two more frozen guards on our way up, each seemingly in the midst of walking down when they were frozen. The doors to the library were quite obvious: they were three times the size of a pony, with great steel hinges and made of thick wood engraved with mares and stallions pose in all varieties of dress. Magical symbols lined the floor below.

The room we entered was something to behold. Rows of books stretched out in either direction, curving away along with the rest of the room. Although we could see the back wall from where I stood, it seemed to go on forever. I saw more stairwells leading up and down to further levels, and light glinting from every direction. For all I could tell, the library extended throughout the entire outer layer of the tower.

Oh no, it stops after ten stories, Pitch corrected.

I shifted focus away from my sense of awe to find her location. She was close, reading a book on time dilation. As we trotted toward her I was taken aback by how well these tomes had held up. Whatever magic was in this place had preserved them well. It had also preserved the librarians. Several tombs of ice greeted us before we found the professor.

“Anything interesting?” Midnight asked.

“Oh yes! They have a whole section just on theoretical physics. I’m familiar with a lot of the general concepts, of course, but it’s always fascinating to read the work that’s being done. Or was being done, I guess. I’m amazed these books survived—as far as I can tell everything in this library is still intact.”

“Anything about the Heart?” I asked.

“Yes, I found a whole sub-section about it in the Imperial History Collection. I haven’t read it yet. But there are also several histories of Equestria, as well as a lot of documents from the war. Ah, and I haven’t even touched the fiction section... I’m sure it makes up at least half of this place... oh, I could spend another two hundred years in here and still not scratch the surface... Worker, this place is priceless. There is knowledge here that doesn’t exist anywhere else.”

I felt her awe, and I drank from her elation. Happiness bloomed between the four of us as the immensity of this discovery set in.

I went straight for the history books. The information on the Heart was disappointingly sparse. Most of its history was concerned with who had control of it and the politics surrounding it. It’s powers were rarely talked about, and all the authors I read seemed to assume the reader would know what it did in the first place. It was so fundamental to the existence of the Empire it didn’t need to be stated. They had not considered it could ever collapse utterly.

“It keep back the storm,” one text stated. “Without it we would be engulfed by a mountain of snow.”

They were a bit off on that point, I thought.

Which is strange, Pitch replied, because even King Sombra believed it was fundamental to the Empire’s existence.

Sombra?

I believe the Princesses defeated him in order to restore the Empire, Pitch replied. It should be in one of the histories. Cadence was given the throne after he was vanquished.

I skipped ahead to the more recent history. Sombra, his banishment, and his return. The story of his second defeat at the hooves of the Princesses was quite detailed, and I found myself sympathetic to the plight of the crystal ponies. I knew what it was to be enslaved, in both body and mind. The final pages added images of the battle between him and the Equestrian royalty. Two stood out to me: an image of a weeping Twilight Sparkle, engulfed by Sombra’s darkness with eyes glowing green, and an image of Celestia standing at the top of the tower, the sun drawn in caricature behind her. Sombra was awash in her light, cracks running through his visage as he fell to the ground below. Luna was beside her sister, protecting the Crystal Heart from the last tendrils of the king’s darkness, as well as sending a piercing beam of dark light through his heart.

“Although Twilight Sparkle was unable to stop King Sombra from entering the Empire and acquiring the Heart, the Princesses Celestia and Luna were swift to arrive upon sensing her defeat. With their supreme experience they did not suffer the King to curse the Empire once again, and quickly discorporated him while retaining control of the Crystal Heart. Twilight Sparkle, as well as the Empress and all her subjects, were freed from Sombra’s grasp.” These words sat just below the final picture.

Pitch, why did the Princesses send their pupil to defeat him first? Why take the risk?

Oh, goodness. I almost forgot about that part of the story. It was a test for Twilight, you see. I don’t know what for. I don’t think it affected their relationship much, but Twilight was very embarrassed about her failure. The Ministry quietly buried that part of history... not too harshly, though, compared to some of their other actions...

Are you alright, Pitch?

Well, I haven’t done much looking back on my life, really. It’s been too painful, but now... well, I’m realizing that the Equestria I loved was dead a long time before the bombs fell. The war killed our spirit before it killed our bodies.

I nodded. Love was very hard to find. I remember that much... say, what would have happened had Twilight succeeded? Would she have been Empress then?

No, Mi Amore Cadenza was always destined for that. I do not know what destiny Celestia had planned for her pupil. The war probably ruined any plans she might have made anyway.

True...

The histories did not go much farther than the fall of King Sombra. Cadence’s early rule was peaceful and kind, and Shining Armor was a beacon of pride and honor.

“Their bond alone is said to match the power of the Heart, for as it uplifts the spirits of ponies all across Equestria, so does their love bring joy to all who behold it, and prosperity to all who live under their rule. Theirs is a harmonious matrimony all others dream of.” The book concluded with another drawing, this of the happy couple standing in the plaza below, the Crystal Heart above them. Their combined aura radiated outward to a crowd of jubilant onlookers, and spread to the margins which depicted small outlines off all the lands affected by the Heart’s power.

I smiled. It could help restore the world. This picture proved it.

Ah don’t mean t’ be a downer, but that don’t mean shit if we can’t find Chrysalis again.

Yeah, I know. I stretched out my mind again, and of course found nothing. Was she really dead? Just sitting at the bottom of that lake we fell into? I could think of no other explanation for her prolonged absence. But it was such an underwhelming fate that I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. Part of me hated her, part of me loved her, and part of me still held onto the echoes of her pride. She did not deserve such a sad, random death.

“Let’s keep going,” I said, putting the books back where I had found them. “We should take stock of the rest of the castle. There might be a few shards of the heart left.” And if the rest are still at the bottom of that lake, we’ll want to look for something to help us dredge them up.

Oh, let me get the map then!

Map?

Yes, I found a map!

* * * * *

The rest of the castle was the same: rooms decayed by time, lacking whatever protection enveloped the library, and ponies frozen in all manners of pose. We did not linger long in any of the guest rooms or the hallways. We headed straight for the throne room. It was prominent on the map, and showed a connection to a stairway that led to the very top of the tower. The Crystal Heart was drawn at the top. If any shards of it were in the Empire, they would be there on in the throne room itself.

“Well shit.”

The chamber was before us. Gold and silver crowns were etched into its great double-doors. Symbols of the sun and moon sat inside hearts carved from sapphire, jade, and amethyst. They still glittered, even as they were sealed behind a layer of ice as thick as my horn was long. The doors were frozen shut.

“That’s a bust.”

“Can we melt it?”

“Maybe, if we collect enough wood.”

“There were spell books in the library, something there could probably help. We’ve got enough magic between the two of us to melt some ice, I think.”

“Hmm, that’s a good idea. Pitch, do you mind looking for that while we keep exploring?” I asked.

“Not at all, dearie. I’ll let you know what I find.”

Midnight and Hairpins had already started poking around our surroundings. I held the map in my magic as I looked for any alternate route. Unfortunately, it appeared there was only one entrance. I considered trying to enter from the outside, but I could not recall seeing any windows and I was not sure I would be able to break through them while mid-flight. And if they existed at all they might also be covered in ice for all I knew. I frowned, still scanning the map.

Washroom... waiting room... dining hall... royal bedchamber... Hmm. There might be something in the Empress’s quarters. I’m going to check it out.

I’ll poke around the dining hall, Midnight thought.

Ah’m just gunna start going through everything.

I nodded, putting the map away as I trotted to the bed chamber. It was on the opposite side of the castle, but on the same floor as the throne room. Ice began to appear on the walls and floor as I approached, and I saw the door was open, a mound of snow spilling out. I stepped over it, and found it covered the whole floor of the bedchamber. The only furniture that remained in the room were a bronze bed frame, a steel vanity near an open balcony, and the rotten remains of a table between them. The window was open, and I could see it lead to a balcony that overlooked the Empire.

Two ponies were frozen here. One on the precipice of the balcony, facing away. The other just before the table, facing the first. I stared at the latter for a long while, not sure what I was seeing.

Shining Armor. He was a dead ringer for his mad descendant. A very dead dead-ringer. I shivered. A desiccated vision of Gleaming Armor was not what I had hoped to find here. But if this was Shining, that would mean the second... I walked around to see the front of the ice block. It was Mi Amore Cadenza. The Empress herself.

Goodness. I hadn’t really thought we’d find them still here, Pitch stated. Midnight shared our awe.

Cadence looked out at the world, face stuck in a scowl. Her eyes, unlike the others, were still intact. They burned a deep purple. The colors in her mane were just as vibrant. Around her neck was the symbol of the empire: a heart lined by a wall of mountains. I turned to look out upon the vista before us. The sky was dark this morning, growing darker as it approached the mountains. The storm still churned there. Below me I saw only a blanket of white sprinkled with rubble. The roadways were barely discernible from this height. I turned back to Cadence and frowned.

A soft blue glow surrounded her. It was barely visible, but it was there. In fact, as I stared at it, I realized it had been there the whole time. I had simply mistaken it for a trick of the light on the ice, but she was definitely glowing.

What does it mean? I wondered.

Your guess is as good as ours.

Curious, I touched a hoof to the ice. It was cold. The glow did not change, nor did Cadence shift in any way. She couldn’t still be alive, could she? Yet as soon as the thought struck me I reached out with my mind. I felt a presence before me, cold, like the statuettes, but whole. It was not an active mind, not a web of thoughts and feelings, but it was stable and it was open to my probing.

I reached out with my magic, driven by curiosity, not entirely sure what I was doing. Suddenly, it was dark.A single emotion subsumed me: hate. And then I was falling.

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

Another memory orb. Yet without the orb.

Cadence was standing on the balcony, staring at the sky. It was clear as far as the eye could see. Below her the city shone with every color. I saw ponies moving in great masses in the streets. Laughter and babble drifted up from below. The heat of mid day flowed across Cadence’s body. I felt her breathe in deeply. I felt the ache in her cheeks, and the way she fought to keep another sob from rising in her chest.

I heard a knock from behind her. Three sturdy thumps. She released her breath.

She turned around. Shining Armor marched into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. It did not close all the way. His expression was glacial.

“Cadence. We need to talk.”

“Oh do we?”

The bed was neatly made. On the table was a figurine of a songbird, made from gold and silver. The vanity was strewn with parchment and quills. A single sheet of paper set atop the mess, its envelope just below it.

“How long have you been building tunnels behind my back?” Shining demanded. “Why are we closing off the railway in favor of a damned maze? Isolation will not keep us safe.”

“We will be safe,” Cadence stated. “We can be sure of that now.”

Shining snorted, looking away from his wife with a grimace. “I kept my promise, Cadence. I didn’t send a single soldier to help Equestria. How long have you been falsifying the trade records you send me? How long has Equestria been missing our supplies?”

“They don’t need them,” Cadence whispered.

“Ponies are dying!” Shining snapped, taking a step toward her. He was shaking with rage. “I know you want to protect us, I know you want to protect your Empire, and your people, but my sister wants to protect hers. I want to protect you both—but this... I trusted you, Cadence. You don’t get to make this decision for the both of us. If you don’t reopen the mountain—actually open it, not this labyrinth bullshit—then... then I’m taking my guard and leaving. I’ll help Equestria, even if you won’t.”

She turned back to the window. “I wanted to keep... our daughter safe. And I have. That is all that matters.” Storm clouds were gathering, dark and ominous. I felt a chill run through her spine. Strangely, neither of them reacted to the sudden shift in weather.

“Don’t use Amethyst to justify your negligence,” Shining growled. “She loves Equestria as much as I do, and the Empire as much as you.”

“Then today will break her heart,” Cadence stated, turning to her desk. The single letter sat there, stained with her tears. She levitated it to her husband, and stared at him through the mirror as he read it. “I am sorry for you both, Shining. I truly am. But this only shows that I was right. Aid would only have lost us more lives. And all for naught.”

The room was blanketed in darkness. The wind whistled around the tower.

“This can’t be,” Shining stammered. “Oh Celestia... Twilight... mom, dad...”

“All of my advisors confirmed it.” Cadence swallowed as another wave of grief rushed through her. “I am so sorry. I loved them too.”

“Fuck you,” Shining said. Cadence whipped around to meet his eyes. The two stared at each other, hate boiling between them.

“The war is over. The Empire is unscathed. Our daughter is safe,” Cadence stated.

Shining broke away, squeezing his eyes shut. He shook his head. Tears were already streaming down his cheeks. Cadence’s eyes went wide, though she did not move another muscle. The wind screamed into the room, bringing flecks of white powder and a descending darkness.

“Shining. Where is my daughter?” She spoke so quietly I could not hear it over the wind.

“I let her go,” Shining managed to say. “To visit her friends.”

Cadence turned around, numbness spreading through her chest even as it crept up her legs. Behind her Shining spoke.

“We could have stopped this. We could have saved all of them...”

“Get out,” Cadence said. “Get out!”

“We need to send a rescue party to Baltimare. We need to—”

“Get out. You killed my daughter. Get out!”

Her tears froze as they fell, the wind was a gale now, the snow poured onto the floor, piling up around her hooves. I felt the ice form before I saw it. It crept up her legs, encasing her even as her grief and rage spilled out.

“We could have stopped this!” Shining howled. “This never should have happened!”

“Get out... get out...” Cadence tried to yell, but the ice was around her neck now. Her head was locked in place. I saw the sky outside the balcony, completely dark now. The snowstorm whirled around the tower, the sudden storm reaching its crescendo.

As the ice filled her vision, as it grew to seal her away just as it was no doubt doing to Shining and all her citizens, I saw in the storm a figure. A large pony, but not a pony, made of snow and ice, with no tail and an elongated face. Its eyes glowed an icy blue as it flew toward us, mixing with the snow that filled the room. The chill that surrounded me rushed inward, and as I felt the last vestiges of Cadence’s consciousness fade away I managed to make out the words she mouthed on the edge of oblivion:

“Shining. I never want to see you again.”

<-=======ooO Ooo=======->

I screamed as I emerged, the piercing cold still stabbing at my mind. A wind blew from behind me, making me shiver. I stumbled back into the center of the room, blinking fiercely as I readjusted to my own body. What had I just seen? What was that thing that came with the storm? Why had they frozen at that moment?

Worker? Are you alright? What happened?

A memory. Her memory. Yet how—?

My eyes went wide. Before me was the beast I had seen in Cadence’s memory. It sat near the bed, snow and wind billowing from its bottom half. It breathed slowly, letting out jets of frigid air. Its mane seemed to be made of ice, yet somehow it waved as if under a current. It stared at me with eyes that glowed pale blue. Its mind was closed to me. I felt nothing from it.

I stepped toward the room’s exit. It tracked my movement. I stepped out into the hallway. It followed. I stopped. It stopped.

Strange.

Worker? Worker what is going on? Midnight and Hairpins were coming for me.

Careful. A monster is here.

How big is it?

Are you hurt?

I walked backwards slowly. The icy figure kept pace with me, but did not get any closer. Tentatively, I took a step forward. It took a step back. I took another. It retreated again.

I heard Midnight and Hairpins trotting up behind me.

“Worker? Where’s it at?” I glanced back. Hairpins had her battle saddle at the ready, but was looking around as if to find a target. Midnight too seemed to be still searching for the monster. I frowned.

“Can you not see it? It’s right there, down the hall.” I pointed at it.

“...ah don’t see shit.” Midnight shook her head in agreement.

Very strange.

Can you describe it, Worker? Pitch suggested.

“Well, it’s like a pony made of snow and ice. A really big pony. With blank eyes.”

“Uh... shit. Ah know what that sounds like, but ah didn’t know they’d be invisible.” I raised an eyebrow at Hairpin’s comment. I hadn’t expected my description to be recognized. “That’s a Windigo. Er at least it sure sounds like one. Ya say it’s right down th’ hall?”

“Yes, but, what’s a Windigo—?”

I jumped as she fired three volleys down the hall without warning. The first two went wide, but the third set of bullets went straight through. Water and ice spilled out of the Windigo’s chest and back, and the thing let out a screech as it reeled back from the hit. Midnight covered her ears beside me. Before I could react Hairpins stepped forward and continued to fire. More screeching and ice spilled into the hall, and I had to cover my own ears to avoid a headache. Another second passed, and the Windigo fell silent.

“Well, ah still can’t see anything, but ah assume ah got it?” Hairpins grinned at me. I nodded tentatively.

Midnight scowled at her. “Could you warn us next time, maybe?”

“Oh... sorry. Ah didn’t want t’ take chances. Ah’ve heard they suck out yer soul.”

I shook my head. Water pooled around the body, which seemed to itself be melting. “I don’t think they take souls. I think this is the thing that froze this place. I saw it in a memory.”

“A memory orb?”

“The Empress’s memory. She’s... well she’s still alive, I think.”

“What? You mean, in the ice?”

“Yeah. Somehow. Maybe she was just powerful enough not to succumb. But I was able to see into her mind. I saw this thing bring a storm, yet she didn’t seem to react to it. I felt her freeze.”

“Well shit, let’s see if killin’ that thing brought her back then!”

It had not. Nothing had changed in the room. Nor did I sense any heightened activity in her mind. Just a cold, steady hatred on the edge of my perception.

“Holy shit,” Hairpins drawled, gawking at Shining. “This fucker looks so like his bastard of a great-great-great- grandson it makes me sick!”

“Be nice, Pins,” Midnight chided. “He was too dead to raise his descendants well.”

I turned back to the hallway. To my surprise the Wendigo was getting back up. As it rose I saw its wounds closing—the water that had rushed out was being sucked back in and refreezing. I tensed, expecting some sort of retaliation, but once it had healed it returned to its sitting position. It continued to stare at me.

Well shit.

Don’t shoot it, Hairpins. Can you see it now?

Nah, but ah c’n kinda feel where it is from ya. Not sure if that’s freakier than th’ revivin’, honestly.

I stared at the monster, unsure what to do, until I could stand the frigid air no longer. I took a tentative step forward. As before, the Windigo retreated as I advanced. I could still sense nothing from it. No fear, no hate, no curiosity; nothing like what I would have felt after being shot to death.

I lead the way as we pushed it back toward the throne room. I wasn’t sure what else to do, but I did not want to stay in the tower with an immortal beast that supposedly sucked out souls, regardless of its current aversion to us.

Pitch? Are you there?

Yes. I’m looking for a bestiary right now. Or anything that might reference a Windigo. I know I’ve heard of them before, but I can’t quite recall...

Ah only know th’ stories ah heard th’ first time ah was here. An’ they ain’t much more than what ah said earlier. They live in th’ ice an’ suck out yer soul.

Thanks Pitch. I think we’re safe here, but it wouldn’t hurt to hurry.

Hairpins nodded in agreement.

We pushed the creature back to the doors of the throne room, where the stairs were, and stopped. It’s haunch was pressed against the covering of ice, still billowing snow and water vapor. I stepped forward and it slid away. It was clearly trying to avoid me. Yet it had chosen not to flee.

Let’s trap it, Midnight suggested. Spread out and walk forward. Tell us where to stand, Worker.

I nodded. We had it trapped against the throne room’s doors. On my call, we stepped forward, each equidistant from the other. I pushed itself back against the doors, almost as if trying to climb away from us. But it could not escape. When we were about two paces away water burst from its flesh. It screeched, it’s voice like a tea kettle being ground to dust. I urged the others forward, and we closed in. The water turned to steam, and the creature’s flesh frothed and foamed. The screeching faded as it evaporated away, vaulting high above my range of hearing when I was a leg’s length from the door. I could not see past the steam that billowed forth. I closed my eyes as the wet heat rushed passed my skin, almost too hot to bear. I felt Hairpins and Midnight’s discomfort as if it were my own. We took a final step forward, our muzzles almost touching. A final burst of steam signaled the end. The foyer was quiet once more. Nothing remained of the Windigo.

Celestia’s tears...

I opened my eyes as I felt the air around me cool again. The ice that had covered the doors had started to melt. A hole had formed around the spot we had converged on. Water ran down its sides, and I could see that the metal of the door was exposed directly before me. It would not open yet, but I saw that the heat was still working its way through the seal. The melting did not speed up, but it steadily worked its way through the ice. We stepped back in awe. Hairpins swiveled her head around, looking for any signs of more Windigo. I followed her eyeline, confirming that there was nothing else in this room.

Is this a good or bad sign? Midnight wondered.

I have no idea. If that Windigo was the source of this ice... are they what brought the storm?

The gates to the throne room creaked as the last of the ice dripped away. Some mechanism, long stuck or broken, gave way with a sharp squeal, and the doors lumbered open. A cold fog billowed out to greet us as we stepped forward, and as it cleared we could finally see the throne room before us.

The floor was slick with ice. Black stone shone through the covering, still polished as the day it froze over. The walls were the same, black and shimmering. A chandelier of glowing gemstones hovered in the air above us. It's light blotted out the ceiling even as it filled the room's windows with vibrant colors. The stained glass rose high above us, depicting events from the histories I had read about in the library below. The luster of the room was overwhelming; ice and gemstones and obsidian. Everything shimmered and glinted as we moved forward. It took my eyes several seconds to focus on the throne itself.

The chair was carved from marble and veined with a strange pink mineral I did not recognize. The lines spiraled inward to the center of the throne. A gold crown rested on its seat, untouched by frost or rust. A small sliver of crystal along its edge was all that adorned it. At the foot of the throne were two more guards encased in ice. They stood at their posts, as proud looking as the day they had died.

A small figure rested on one of the throne's arms. I approached it cautiously. Midnight's attention was on the crown, while Hairpins was scouring every inch of the room with her vision. Midnight and I gasped as we reached out for our respective prizes.

"It's warm," Midnight exclaimed, donning the crown.

"It's Twilight Sparkle," I stated. The sixth figurine was before me. It stared at me, untouched by ice, it's coat radiant in the room's aura. I could barely feel the coldness inside. I took it in my magic, and stowed it in my saddlebag.

A chill fell heavily around me. I shivered as it passed. Then... nothing. The six were together, but it seemed it was not enough. Whatever soul had made them, it was still lacking some pieces. I let the cold presence of the statuettes sink to the back of my mind.

"Hey!" Hairpins shouted to us. "Ah think ah found somethin'."

She had found a break in the ice: a roughly rectangular spot of the floor behind the throne that had not frozen over. I put a good on it. The black stone was warm.

"The same magic as the crown," Midnight suggested. I nodded in agreement.

This must be the secret entrance to the outer stairwell, I realized. I recalled it being mentioned in the story of Twilight’s failure. She had used Sombra’s magic to open it, but had been overcome by his subsequent illusions. She had been unable to reach the heart; she had doubted herself and her friends for a moment too long, and so was imprisoned by Sombra until Celestia and Luna intervened. But how do we open it?

“Maybe we knock?” Hairpins said with a grin, rapping on the stone with a hoof.

“No, it will take some kind of magic. Maybe there’s a lock underneath the floor?” I reached out with my telekinesis, feeling around blindly for anything that I could grip below the stone. I reached nothing. There seemed to be only a solid slab of rock. I frowned. “Maybe there’s a spell in the library—?”

“What about this?” I turned to see Midnight pointing to the back of the throne. A small lever stuck out from its base, attached to a strange mechanism. I blinked in surprise as she pulled it down and something beneath me clicked. The warm obsidian rumbled as it slid downward, turning into a narrow stairway that led into further darkness. Hairpin whistled.

Seems they installed a switch, Midnight commented. I could feel her amusement at my shock.

This was... easier than I expected. The story made it seem like this passage was a big deal.

“Back then, sure,” Hairpins drawled, already poking her nose down into the hole. “Now, we’ve got th’ benefit a’ not bein’ th’ first t’ discover this place. No reason t’ keep using evil magic once you know it’s there, right?”

“Makes sense,” I said. I felt Midnight and Pitch agree.

Midnight went down the stairs first and I took up the rear. The light from our horns revealed a simple chamber, made of the same stone. The stairwell was bare until we reached the bottom. There was a doorway, its wood long ago rotted away, and beyond I could see the beginning of the external stairway. I tried to imagine where exactly we were relative to the castle’s outside, but I had been turned around too many times. We stepped out onto the stairs. Around us was a white void; a sparkling mist that blinded us to whatever view might have existed here otherwise. The reflective effect that had blinded me to the top of the tower from the ground now blinded us to anything but what was ten steps ahead. We began our ascent slowly.

Oh, good news, Pitch added. I found some information on the Windigo.

Let’s hear it.

They appear in the Hearth’s Warming Eve story. I found a book on it. I can’t believe it slipped my mind; we celebrated it all the time when I was a foal! I don’t know how much of the story is true, or simply allegory, but the Windigos appeared to freeze the quarreling heads of the pony races. It was only the friendship of some of the lower classes that brought together all pony kind and unfroze their leaders.

There’s some literature on the Windigos appearing during the war, but for the most part they posed little threat to either side. It seems they feed off of discord between people. The freezing effect seems to be their way of establishing themselves in an area. Like a coral rooting itself to a reef.

Pitch, I have no idea what a coral is.

Oh... Well, it’s not important. The point is that all these frozen ponies mean that the WIndigos should be heavily entrenched here. But it’s strange you’ve only seen the one.

It was probably invisible until Worker went into Cadence’s mind, Midnight thought for all of us. Maybe we can’t see them normally. Your vision showed the royals not reacting to the ice, right? And it seems nopony else was trying to escape the ice they wound up in...

I nodded. So there’s definitely more Windigos around. It was not surprising; just a confirmation of the suspicions we had all held. But why did the one we find... melt? We didn’t do anything but walk toward it.

Bein’ friendly save ‘em in th’ story, right? Maybe ‘s ‘cuz yer good friends an’ all...

Midnight nodded. It made the most sense out of anything. As long as we’re together, we’re safe.

We walked for a long while. The stairs seemed never ending. The glittering fog that surrounded us gave no hint to what progress we might be making. Each time we glanced backwards it appeared the same.

“How tall’s this thang anyway?” Hairpins asked. I wondered the same.

I can look for an answer, if you’d like. There must be blueprints or at least some architectural texts about the castle here somewhere. Pitch’s thoughts were faint, barely a whisper. I sent my approval, but also warned that we wouldn’t be able to hear her soon. Oh, no worries. Honestly you’ll probably reach the top by the time I’d find such a specific fact anyway.

I glanced at Midnight’s crown as we walked. The crystal embedded in its golden surface was strangely dim. Perhaps the reflections around us were simply too bright by comparison. Do you think it’s one of the Crystal Shards? Midnight wondered.

“Maybe,” I said. “Although, the Heart was what kept the storm at bay. And if the Empire was stable until the Windigos appeared, that would mean the Heart would have been shattered afterwards. Shattered and scattered... I wonder how it happened? And who would make a crown out of just one of its pieces but put the others all across Equestria?”

Midnight frowned. “Maybe the Windigos did it? They would like a storm, I’m sure.”

“Maybe...” Something felt off about that answer. I had sensed nothing from the Windigo: no malice, no fear, not even curiosity. The statuettes I carried in my saddlebag had more prevalent minds than whatever lay behind the Windigo’s dead eyes. Even as it died I had sensed no emotion behind its pain. Would they bother to make crowns? Did they think enough to shatter the Heart? The one we had encountered seemed more a force of nature, or, as Pitch had said, like unthinking coral. It was another mystery to solve.

I glanced back again, to see if any progress was notable. Hairpins was gone. Midnight spun around upon sensing my shock.

“Pins?” she called out.

Hairpins? Are you there? I reached out with my mind, searching for her presence. I found nothing.

“What the hell?” My eyes went wide with panic. I scrambled down the stairs, looking over the side, fearing the worst. “Hairpins! Hairpins!”

“Worker, where are you—?”

I found her two flights down. Frozen.

How!?

She was completely encased in ice, her face locked into a gaping expression of shock. Her prison blocked off the path back down, and it seemed to cling to the stone around it. Tendrils of ice had embedded themselves in the marble. I stared, agog, unable to process what I was seeing. Had this just happened? Why now? Why here? I didn’t understand...

Midnight! I turned around, now panicked that I had left her alone, even for that brief moment. She was not behind me, and I galloped back upwards. She was not where I had left her. I blinked in surprise as I continued to dash up the stairs. After another few seconds of not finding her, I lifted off, spiraling up to check the flights above me—

The stairs ended. I found myself hovering above the top of the tower. The sun shone down from behind me, projecting faint rainbows across its surface. In its center was a stone pillar, and hovering above it the Crystal Heart. It shone like a second sun. My heartbeat was in my ears. Two figures stood at the threshold where the stairs ended: Midnight, who looked as bewildered as I was, and Chrysalis, fully encased in ice.

What!?

“Worker?” Midnight turned her head toward me, frozen tears in her eyes. “Worker, how did you get there? Where’s Hairpins? Why did you fly away?”

“What? Midnight, what are you say—?”

“Why did you leave me?”

The ice had already glued her hooves to the crystal below her. It crawled up her legs, growing thicker each moment. Before I could so much as gasp it engulfed her, locking her face into that last expression of hurt and confusion. My vision blurred. I blinked back the tears. I moved toward her, extending a hoof as I descended.

“Midnight—!?”

Stay... away... little one...

A dozen Windigos appeared before me. They cluttered up the tower's pinnacle, their tails billowing mist that poured over the edges in eternal waterfalls. Their blue eyes stared at me, all piercing, all devoid of emotion. A wave of cold hit me like a hammer. I cried out in terror and fell backwards in the air, still reaching out in futility toward my friend. I passed by Hairpins, and caught a glance of two more smokey pale figures standing near her. I screamed, weeping as I let myself fall. My grief turned to rage, and I thrust out my wings, pulling out of the dive and rocketing back up. I charged up my magic. I had plenty of energy left. During all our travels I had not hungered. Each moment I had spent with them, each triumph and failure that had brought us closer, had fed me. I had not had to think about eating for all this time, not actively, not as a desperate animal, and I had not had to steal or deceive. To come all this way and lose them so pointlessly—

The top of the tower was before me again. I thought of Lute, recalled her lasers. My horn glowed, the green tint overwhelming the rainbows below. The Windigos looked up at me, not even curious. A few had begun to float toward me lazily, seemingly unafraid of the power I was displaying. I saw red.

Away...

I ignored Chrysalis’ pleas. I could do it. I could wipe them out. If they all melted, my friends would be free. I felt power build within me. I felt the magic channel to my horn. I would use all of the love they had given me. I would use all of their power.

Away... little one...

The cold gripped my chest. My eyes widened. My power dissipated. I felt something leaving me. Something draining. I felt ice crystals form on my wings and hooves. Suddenly, I felt fear. Then elation.

I understand now. I let myself drop again. The ice crept up my body as I fell. I took a deep breath. Past the stairs. Another breath. Out of the mist. I breathed in deeply. The ground approached, and still the ice only stopped its crawl. I had time for a breath in. At the last moment I spread my wings, and only as I soared over the landscape and past the ruins of the train station did it start to fall off. I landed in the snow near the mountains, releasing my last sigh. Only then did I let myself feel again. Only then did I rage and cry.

* * * * *

They feed off of hate. I understood them now. That one touch from their cold minds was all I needed. Like coral planting their roots. I still didn’t understand what a coral was, but I knew how roots worked. A plant needs roots. A plant dries up when its roots can’t find water. I would have to cut off the Widigos’ source of hate. I would starve them out.

I had considered trying to meet up with Pitch, but for all I knew she could have been frozen by now. I had spent half an hour or so cursing and crying, trying to get all my negative emotions out. I knew what I needed to do, and I knew how to do it, I just had to remain calm. Not even for that long, but any slip would be a moment where they could freeze me. For it seemed all they needed was a moment...

I still did not understand how Hairpins had been frozen. Had she lingered to catch her breath? But then why had the Windigos waited so long to catch one of us? Why not freeze us in the castle? Surely there must have been more than just the one? Had she simply had a bad thought at the wrong time? And why had Midnight ran upwards? Why did she think I had abandoned her?

I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved that thought away. I focused on my breathing. I could not afford to break down again. The sun was beginning to slip toward the horizon.

I stood up straight. The castle loomed, even from this distance. The mist swirled around its top. I saw Windigos drifting around it in the air, moving through the streets, and perching on the tops of buildings. They had always been there. Only now I could somehow see them. Only after Chrysalis’ mind had reached out to mine. Just as I had only been able to see the first after peering into Cadence.

I spread my wings and flew straight for the castle. The Windigos moved toward me, drawn as if by a gentle current. I knew I could not think of nothing, so instead I thought on new mysteries.

Why had Chrysalis been there? How had she gotten ahead of us without me noticing her mind?

I was halfway to the castle.

I had seen the Crystal Heart upon the pedestal. How could that be? Had Chrysalis simply lied about the shards? But I had seen them myself. Was it a fake? A replacement? I remembered the delay tactic Twilight and her friends had employed when they had first visited the Empire. Had Cadence done the same? But then what magic was keeping the storm back? Or had that always been a metaphor for the Windigos? I would have plenty of time to think on it later.

I flew upward, and landed on the Empress’s balcony. Mi Amore Cadenza was before me, still frozen. Still gazing forward.

Pitch? I called out. Are you there?

Worker? Where have you all been? I think I found a good lead on the blueprints—

Don’t worry about that now, Pitch. I need you to do something for me.

The Winidigo sat around me. Two were on the bed near Shining. More drifted in through the hall. I felt the cold surrounding me, pushing inward. I channeled my magic even as I began to probe Cadence’s mind.

What is it, Worker?

I want you to think happy thoughts. Think of your best days, and your friends. I need you to feel happy for me for a while. I need to do something that might hurt me, and I need you to be there for me.

Oh, of course, Worker, but what—?

I don’t have time, Pitch. Please, just focus on being happy. On good things.

Of course. I can do that. I know I complain a lot about my life, but I do feel blessed about all that I have gotten to see and learn. I’ve had so many good times, even with just you all. You... I never knew how to thank you for all the support you’ve given me, just in being there. Just in letting me tag along...

I felt her warmth glow within me, keeping back the cold. Water pooled at my feet. I smiled, letting her go on thinking happy thoughts. I was disguised as Gleaming Armor now; his soul was still trapped with Twilight and Trixie... and Rolling. Gleaming’s soul was still extant, so his image was still mine to use. A spitting image of Shining.

Cadence? Are you there? It’s me, my love. I pushed inward, feeling the shape of her thoughts. I understood the magic surrounding her now. It was a mental prison. A memory orb, but made from her own mind. If I reached out as I had the first time, I would be sucked into the same memory, into that peak moment of her rage. She was reliving that moment over and over again, anger flaring anew each time. I felt the magic pulse, looping her thoughts back to that inciting moment. I pushed on the barrier, sensing the hate beneath.

Cadence? Cadence, I love you. Please come back to me. I am so sorry.

I channeled more of my magic, extending more tendrils to crawl around her mind. I did not have a plan for what I was doing, only a gut instinct. I was a changeling. The mind was my domain. Whatever lock was here, I could undo. I had to believe it. It was the only way out.

Cadence? Our daughter is back. Amethyst is safe.

Another pulse. As the magic shifted I pushed inward. My tendrils sunk deeper. Around me the room shimmered. Reality and memory leaking into each other. Another pulse. Another layer deeper. I saw the ghosts of the royals’ movements in the room before me. Another pulse. In my peripherals I saw green grass in the distance. I heard the bustling of busy streets. Another pulse. I heard the whistling of wind. Another pulse, and the Windigos vanished.

“Shining. I never want to see you again.”

Cadence looked into my eyes. She was scowling. She blinked.

“Shining!?” She jerked away from me. The real Shining was behind her, frozen in the last instant she remembered of him. It took all my strength not to move my eyes to his form.

“Cadence. Please. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What will your sorries do, Shining? How do you expect to repent for killing your own child?”

Her rage boiled over, seething and squirming around us like a rancid sea. I staggered back, gripping her mind harder with my tendrils to tether myself against the onslaught. Panic rose within me. This was too much hate. She had been caught up in it for too long. I looked into her eyes again even as red fury poured out to scald me. I pushed into her mind, as deep as I could. There was nothing left in there. For almost two-hundred years she had existed in this state, replaying it over and over, and all else had been wiped clean by this one moment. She did not know she had ever loved Shining to begin with.

“Shining. I never want to see you again.” She spat out the words as hissing venom, and they burned holes through my false skin.

I screamed. It took all my effort to keep myself connected to her mind. Her red rage swelled to drown me. It filled the room. It filled the world. I had one option left.

“Cadence!” I gasped. “You truly hate me?”

“I hate you. I never want to see you again.”

“Fuck you, Cadence. I never loved you. I’ve always hated you.”

She screamed as the world disintegrated. Black bile exploded from her being, mixing with the bloody torrent as it rushed to consume me.

I opened my mind, and drank.

The poison was choking. I gagged and vomited in reality. My mind reeled. The power filled me.

So this is what you sought, Fugax? This is how you lived?

It was power, yes, but already it was killing me.

Mi Amore Cadenza. Her special talent was love, and projecting it to those around her. She was once the ultimate prize for a changeling. Now, as a vessel of hate, she was an unceasing tsunami. I drank and drank, feeling myself die over and over again as I forced my body to restore itself with the power that was killing it. Red and black and green swirled together. The rage filled me. Cadence did not stop screaming.

I drank and drank, driving myself deeper and deeper into her mind, ripping out reservoirs and devouring rivers, growing more ravenous even as more and more filled me.

I drank for years unending. And then there was nothing left.

* * * * *

I woke up screaming. The pain was in my body now. I was still on the balcony, but I was looking up, into the sky. A light was there. A yellow pillar that shot upward. I realized it was coming from my horn.

Pitch!?

I’m here for you Worker. I’m coming. I’ll be there in a moment.

Pitch don’t—!

I know what you’re going through, Worker. I can help. I’m almost there.

I can’t... contain it...

The beam was erupting from me. Pure power and magical energy, in a column as wide was one of the tower legs. I dared not try to move my head. I saw the sky buckle, clouds swirling into the apex of the beam. The light blotted out all else, turning the sky to a sickly night even as it lit up the ground. I felt my horn cracking open and repairing itself, and I couldn’t help but scream as the pain ripped through my body.

It’s okay Worker, I’m here for you.

I felt tears rolling down the cheeks. I felt my skin break open and new layers push themselves up to replace the old. My bones splintered as new ones grew in to replace them. My heart beat itself to a pulp even as my magic struggled to reshape it. I heard nothing. The sound that shook through me burst my eardrums each time they tried to reform.

Then all at once it was over.

I collapsed, still screaming. I gasped for breath, shuddering in pain. Above me the sky rumbled. The power I had unleashed seemed to coalesce into a single glowing sphere, just above the castle’s peak. I saw air and clouds still drawn into the spinning orb. The power was so great it had become a self-sustaining system.

I managed to look away. Cadence was beside me, laying in a pool of water. She stared blankly ahead, unblinking but not yet dead. I sensed nothing from her now. I had taken all that was left within her husk and shot it to the heavens.

Worker!

Pitch scampered into the room, splashing through the melted ice and jumping over Shining’s corpse. I saw no signs of the Windigos. I did not know if I had killed them or merely sent them away to hunt elsewhere, but my plan had worked. Cadence had been their anchor point; an infinite source of pure, unbridled rage. I had cut off their source. I had melted the ice.

“I’m here,” I croaked. I tried to stand, but I was still in too much pain. I had no idea what such sudden and repeated regeneration would do to my body. For now I was whole, at least.

“Oh goodness, Worker.” Pitch leaned down to nudge me onto my feet. I smiled despite myself, and gasped onto the warm spot of happiness she had managed to sustain even now. I staggered up.

“Thank you, Pitch,” I managed to whisper. I leaned on her, taking in the sight below me. The ice had melted completely. I saw rivers flowing away and new pools and ponds forming in the streets below. Bodies drifted in some of the larger streams, leaking trails of blood and bile.

“By Celestia...”

I did not have time to reflect on the horror. My plan had worked. But Hairpins and Midnight were near the top of the tower, where all my power had coalesced. And Chrysalis was there too. Also unmelted.

Worker!

Midnight!? It’s alright, I’m—

Worker, it’s—!

Before she could finish her thought the orb above the tower exploded. An arrow of light burned downward through the castle. I saw the hallway glow with red and orange light. The earth below us erupted into fire. There was a roar as the explosion ripped through the ground, its shockwave launching stone and crystal into the city in every direction. I gasped for breath as the glare of the explosion dimmed and its sound passed. The castle quaked around us for a long moment as Pitch and I held each other up. When the shaking stopped, we gawked at what we saw.

The sky. A brilliant chasm of blue had been punched through the swirling mass of clouds above. A rainbow of energy radiated away from the epicenter, pushing the clouds further apart, back to the mountains where they had started. The orb was gone. The power dissipated. Grey smoke rose from the pinnacle far above.

“What the hell was that?” I asked. “Did I do that?”

“Something shot through the castle...” Pitch mumbled, bewildered.

“I need to find Midnight,” I said, pulling away from Pitch. “Stay here, I’ll fly up—”

“I’m going to see what the ground looks like,” Pitch stated.

“But—”

“If that explosion damaged the tower’s legs, we need to know that. I’ll be okay, Worker.”

I nodded, pushing down my panic. The Windigos were gone. One obstacle was down. This situation was the next thing to deal with. “Right. Good thinking. Let me know what you find.”

She nodded, already trotting out into the hallway. I breathed in deeply, taking a moment to stretch my newly reformed body. I felt stable. I crouched, preparing to fly. Another breath. I took one last glance at Cadence’s necklace. An enclosed heart let out no love, just as a steel sun would never give warmth. A lineage of dead empires. I jumped into the air.

I found Hairpins where I had left her. She was sitting in a puddle of water, blinking in confusion. I put a forehoof around her haunches and walked her up the last few flights of stairs. At the top I found Midnight in a similar state: confused, damp, but in one piece. Where Chrysalis should have been there was only a puddle.

“Worker, what happened?” Midnight asked. “I had a terrible dream...”

Later, I thought, sending what few images I could to give them some context. Are you alright? Where’s Chrysalis?

She was just here, Midnight thought, frowning. “Then she...” She pointed toward where the Crystal Heart—or its facsimile or whatever it really was—had been. There was only a gaping hole in the tower’s surface. Smoke rose from deep within it. “She walked toward the Heart just before that ball of light exploded... I think she was blasted away... out into the city...”

I staggered forward, daring to peer down into the hole. The energy blast had bore its way down through the entirety of the structure. I could barely make out some of the upper floors we had reached, but anything below that was obscured by darkness or the glare from some light source reflected and refracted a million times by the crystal structure. I turned back to my companions.

“This place definitely isn’t safe. We need to get down...”

Pitch, are you there?

Worker? I... I...

I felt something strange from her. An emotion I could not place.

Pitch? What is it? What’s wrong?

I... I can’t... it’s...

I shook my head. “Something’s wrong with her. We have—”

“Jus’ fly down, ya’ dummy,” Hairpins muttered. She gave me a stern look. “We’ll be fine. Go help th’ old lady.” Midnight nodded. I swallowed my protests, already sensing their resolve and knowing I would lose any counter-argument. They were safe and uninjured. They would travel just as fast with me as without. I jumped off the stairs and spiraled downward.

Pitch, talk to me. What is it? What’s wrong?

It’s... it’s... it’s...

I landed at the base of one of the castle’s legs. The ground below the tower had been obliterated. Only a smoking crater remained. I saw Pitch standing near its center. I walked toward her, calling out, but she did not respond. To my surprise, I saw that the Crystal Heart was embedded in the earth near her hooves, seemingly intact.

It survived? So it must be the real one? But then what—?

I raised my eyebrows in astonishment and galloped forward. I had noticed a second figure in the very center of the crater. Pitch gawked at it, mouth moving wordlessly. I skidded to a stop next to the professor and looked over the body.

It was a pegasus, clad in a black suit of metal. The armor was cracked and blood stained, with several gaping holes torn in its sides. Through them I saw charred hide and patches of azure hair. The pony’s helmet was split open, revealing the pained expression of a dead-looking mare with a gash in her cheek. Her wings oozed blood, stripped of most of their feathers, and the skin beneath was lined with fresh scrapes and claw marks. Her tail was nothing but a scorched stock of dirty red with a few strands of green mixed in, and her mane was completely gone, burnt off by whatever had caused the other wounds. I cringed at the sight and turned to Pitch. Her jaw hung open in dumbfounded silence.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“It’s... Rainbow Dash,” she replied. “It’s mother-fucking Rainbow Dash.”

Footnote: Level up.
Skill Note: Speech at 100%
New Perk: Magical Laser - You may now shoot lasers from your horn, at the cost of magical power.
Quest Perk: My Little Ponies - You have collected one of each of the six Ministry Mare statuettes. Stronger together than they are apart, they have ~~granted~~ imposed upon you -1 Luck in addition to their normal ~~benefits~~ detriments.
Quest Perk: Loose Ends - Sometimes it is you who must write the next chapter of history. Reading pre-war books yields 20% more knowledge.
Special Perk: Blast from the Past - Even the fastest mare in the world is 200 years too late, but at least she still knows how to make an entrance! You take 10% less damage from falls and explosions.

Author's Note

Now I've had some bad break ups, but Cadence is really givin' him the cold shoulder, am I right fellas?

Chapter 19: Continuity

“Dash her friend or Dash the drug?”

A breeze whistled above me. The crater I stood in held the air stagnant; a pocket of warmth under the bitter cold. Yet even here my breath blew out fog. It puffed into the air, fading as it sank to the ground. The pegasus in front of me let out pitifully small wisps. The water condensed on the twisted metal and plastic near her mouth, hydrating the stained blood that coated the inside of her helmet.

“What did you say?” I asked Pitch after I had started to understand her words.

“It’s fucking Rainbow Dash!” Pitch squealed in elation. “In the flesh!”

“Wait... Rainbow Dash?” Somehow, Pitch’s swearing was the part my mind had first struggled to comprehend. “Like, the Rainbow Dash?”

What d’ya mean ‘Rainbow Dash’?

“Yes! Isn’t it obvious? Her classic armor, her Cutie Mark, it’s all spot on! This is Rainbow Dash!”

I glanced at her haunches. I could just barely make out the edge of the cloud and rainbow-bolt symbol through the ruin of her suit. I frowned. Out of curiosity I triggered my magic. The disguise worked this time; I was Rainbow Dash. I dropped it a moment later. Above me the wind dropped to nothing, then reversed, flowing south.

Worker? Is everything alright?

I think... I think she’s right, Midnight, I replied. I can disguise as her now...

“What the fuck. Pitch?” I gave her a baffled look.

“Oh, like I’m supposed to know how she’s here?” The ghoul pouted defiantly. “We can ask her all about the how and why later. Right now she’s clearly injured, help me carry her!”

I stood for a moment, disconnected from my body. Rainbow Dash gave a weak cough, which turned into a painful hack. More blood trickled out of her mouth. I felt a jolt in Pitch’s gut, and crouched down beside her automatically. I used my magic to help pitch heave Rainbow Dash over my back. I felt a mix of relief, confusion, and frustration from Hairpins.

Worker, Rainbow Dash would be hundreds of years old... is she a ghoul?

No. She’s beat up, but alive.

Maybe a relative?

I shook my head. It’s the same Cutie Mark. I can disguise as her now. I couldn’t before. And Pitch recognizes her armor. It must be.

Pitch nodded vigorously in agreement.

Anyway, Midnight, Hairpins, how far are you?

We’re still on the stairs.

There’s too fuckin’ many of ‘em! An’ what th’ hell happened anyhow? One secon’ we’re arguing, th’ next ah’m wakin’ up in a puddle a’ melted ice! An’ another Ministry Mare turns up alive?

I don’t... wait Worker, why did you fly away as soon as Hairpins disappeared? How did you know we were so close to the top?

What were they talking about? I sensed confusion reverberating through the three of us. Pitch was off in her own mind, at once ecstatic and worried about her idol crashing in from the sky. Midnight, I ran down to check on Hairpins as soon as we saw she was missing. You ran away from me, remember? And Hairpins, what argument? We weren’t even talking about much when you fell behind.

I... well, I don’t know. I’m having trouble remembering, exactly. I just thought... I felt like you had left me for some reason, Midnight stated.

Ah... hell, ah can’t recall neither.

Pitch walked beside me, helping to support Rainbow’s weight. I picked up the Heart with magic and shoved it into my saddlebag. It didn’t fit in all the way, but it was secure enough for the moment. We trotted slowly toward one of the castle’s legs at the edge of the impact crater. It was the safest place to be, Pitch knew, if the tower were to collapse. I shivered as we entered the cooler air.

We can work out the details later. Let’s just meet up first, I decided. Pitch and I have enough to worry about right now. Let me know if you need anything.

Got it, Midnight replied curtly.

We set Rainbow Dash down against the edge of the northmost leg. I glanced at the surrounding city. The water had stopped flowing for the most part. The ice blocks that had filled the street were now corpses, lying as dark shadows in the pools of water. Many were near enough that I could see the faded colors of their coats. I turned back to Rainbow Dash. Her breathing was ragged and pained, but steady. Pitch fiddled with her armor while I retrieved the healing potions I had in my bags. She pressed on something, and a small panel popped open near Rainbow Dash’s underbelly. Pitch frowned.

“What is it?”

“Her meds. There should be an entire suite of medications in here, but all the dispensers are empty... what the hell was she doing? It says these were deployed only a few minutes ago... strange...”

“Pitch. She’s supposed to be dead,” I stated. “How can you say that a few missing healing potions is ‘strange’ in this situation? How is she here? Alive?”

“Hold on... let me check... oh. Oh! Oh no. Oh...”

Her thoughts were moving too fast for me to track, and she was too focused for me to pry very deep into her mind. I felt curiosity, then fear, then elation. Then she turned to me.

“Are the potions ready?” I levitated them to her, and she began pouring them into Rainbow’s most grievous wounds. She saved the last vial for her mouth, pouring it slowly in. Pitch nodded as Rainbow swallowed automatically. “Good, good...” I saw gashes closing, and a hint of feather regrowth. Her internal injuries must have been extensive for so many potions to have so little an effect.

I could do nothing but stare as Pitch worked. I found myself shaking. Not because of the cold, but because of the energy still left within me. I wanted to move, or to fly, but there was nothing to do. I looked out at the city again. The noon light filled the streets with low shadows, turning the water into a dark covering. Already it was beginning to re-freeze; I saw patches gleam and glint both near and far. I sighed. My body was too energized; I felt myself getting frustrated by the relative inaction.

“Pitch...?”

“Sorry, Worker. I... I think I understand the what, but not the why or how of this situation. And...” She put a hoof to her mouth to suppress a giggle. “Oh, I—I still can’t believe this. Rainbow Dash... in the flesh!”

“Pitch.” I did not share her excitement, and seeing her act so giddy when Midnight and Hairpins were still in danger left a sour taste in my mouth.

“Oh, right. Well, first off: all her drugs are depleted. Dash, buck, heal meds, blood pressure regulators... the whole cocktail. And according to the logs in her suit’s med file, they were injected at roughly the same time. Now, that sort of thing would kill a normal pony, but the Ministry Mares were not normal even before the war. So she’s relatively stable for the moment; her wounds are closing and her heart rate is steady. Whatever trauma caused those wounds, it seems like her automated systems were just enough to keep her alive.”

“That’s... great, I guess,” I said. “But I was more asking about how she is here at all? Y’know, two-hundred years after she should have died?”

“Well, this is, by all conceivable scenarios, impossible,” Pitch admitted. “A-as far as I was concerned Rainbow Dash was supposed to have died the day the bombs fell, just like all the other ministry mares... her friends. But, as seems to be the case with those mares, she is actually alive somehow—according to your magic (which was indeterminate earlier)—so this must be the real Rainbow Dash. Another important detail: Mrs. Dash, despite her extensive injuries, looks no older than the last time I saw her on a war-time poster, and unless she became a particularly lazy ghoul, I doubt she was hanging around in the clouds all these years waiting for such an un-opportune moment as this to make her dramatically unconscious return. Also, she was clearly in a fight with someone recently, just look at her injuries—”

“Okay... so she was in a bad fight, is here now, and not a ghoul... that means...?”

“Have you heard of the Sonic Rainboom?” I had, in fact, when I’d overheard Pitch and Midnight talking one day as we had been sailing, but I wasn’t sure how it was relevant. “It was what happened when Rainbow Dash broke the sound barrier. She was an incredible battle asset during the war. If she was able to break the sound barrier with stunning regularity years before the war’s technological renaissance, then there’s no telling what she would be capable of at her peak, augmented with a personal suit of armor.”

“Pitch, where is this going—?”

“Oh, Worker, you need to read more science fiction! Anyway, Rainbow Dash was famous for never needing combat drugs and disavowing any kind of enhancements, so clearly she was in a tight spot if she broke down and took everything. And you’ve seen first hand what a Ministry Mare is capable of when ‘enhanced.’ Remember Pinkie Pie?”

I blinked. “The memory orb? When she caused an explosion by moving so fast?”

“Yes. And she wasn’t even known for her speed. Rainbow Dash’s talent was the Sonic Rainboom. Put her into overclock with adrenaline, then give her an overdose of Dash, Buck, and every other drug in her suit and... well, I’m not a physicist, but I’ve read enough books in these last two centuries to have crazy ideas, and my idea is this: Rainbow Dash, clearly, flew fast enough to break the light barrier and travel forward in time to now. That is how she got here. I’m not sure what she was trying to accomplish, but she’s here now, and whomever she was fighting is long gone.”

I blinked. “You’re saying she time traveled?”

“Yes, she time traveled!” Pitch nearly jumped with excitement. “Rainbow Dash took some Dash and broke the laws of physics!”

I blinked again. “Okay.”

“That’s it? Just ‘okay?’ We’ve just learned that time travel is possible! And that Rainbow Dash is here, alive! Right in front of us!”

Around us the wind died down. I heard a distant creaking of stone and metal, and prayed that it did not come from the structure above me. I paced back and forth, unable to stand still any longer. I felt confusion from Pitch. Above me I sensed a mild anxiety from Midnight, but Hairpins was still calm. I took a deep breath in, and the faint smell of rot hit my nostrils.

“I’m... glad you’re happy,” I said diplomatically. “But right now, my concern is keeping everyone from my time safe. We... look, we have the Crystal Heart, we know Chrysalis is around somewhere. She might still be friendly, she might not. We need to be prepared for anything. And since, apparently, the Heart has been here this whole time, we need to figure out what the heck those other crystals she’s been collecting are—”

The corpses in the water raised their heads and stared directly at me.

I froze, choking on my terror. Pitch swiveled around and shrieked, shriveling up against the ground. A grotesque groan rose from the city around us, turning into a wheezing, wet roar. The corpses jerked as one. Some staggered up and shambled forward, others could only crawl, but all that I could see around me were moving. And heading straight for us. They cried a white ooze as the matter of their eyes dripped down their faces.

—fuck—what—?

“Run.” It was the only coherent thought in my mind. “Pitch, run!”

Not without her—

She tore her vision away from the oncoming monstrosities, but only moved closer to Rainbow Dash, blathering nonsense. I stared for half a second before helping her to pick up the injured mare. My ears filled with the shuffled of hooves and the scrape of bone on stone. I managed to shove Rainbow Dash onto Pitch’s back and then made for the stairs at the bottom of the castle leg. Already corpses were nearing us.

I tugged at Pitch with my magic, urging her forward. She moved up the stairs just as the corpses began converging on us. I hovered, moving backwards behind Pitch, charging up the magic in my horn. The dead ponies made no sound. They did not let out any more moans or cry or even breath; the sound of their splashing filled the air, but nothing else.

The first one set foot on the bottom step. I sent a beam of light through its face. It staggered back, but did not fall. It took another step forward, just as a second joined it. I sent a flurry of bolts through the both, pushing as much energy through my horn as I could as fast as possible. Only after I severed their legs did they stop advancing, and only because the wiggling of their stumps was not enough to surmount the stairway. I dashed up to Pitch, and urged her to keep moving.

What the fuck is this?

Worker, what’s wrong? Worker?

Midnight’s worry had been tugging on my mind since that first spike of horror, but only now could I spare a thought for her.

The crystal ponies... they’re zombies. They’ve all turned to zombies!

No, Pitch interjected. I could sense her panic had receded to a manageable level. Her mind was clicking back into problem-solving mode. Zombies die when you take out the brain. Zombies and ghouls do not spontaneously animate after centuries of being dead... this is... I don’t know...

I felt fear from Midnight and Hairpins. I tried not to mix our emotions too strongly and risk overwhelming one or all of us.

Are you inside yet? I asked. Can you start work on a barricade somewhere?

We’re still on the stairs—oh shit.

What? What is it!?

For a brief moment I saw through Midnight’s eyes: she was still on the stairway, the opening to the castle still several flights below her. The mist which had blinded us earlier had dissipated, revealing the ground far below. I saw, as Midnight did, a mass of writhing color splayed across the city. The horde of corpses was moving as one toward the tower, spiraling inward like water draining into a basin. We gasped; I felt her frozen in fear.

Worker? Can you see this?

Yes. I... Our minds must be getting used to each other. The Hive was much the same. We shared thoughts and visions alike. You can always kick me out if you want.

Ah c’n see th’ benefit, but please don’t do that t’ me without warning. More importantly... are those things all coming fer us? What the fuck is happenin’?

Yes... I don’t know... hold on...

I drew my attention back to my own body. Pitch and I stared at the castle's central staircase. It was partially mangled and barely connected in a few places, but its main supports looked to still be intact. I looked up and saw more of the damage Rainbow Dash had caused during her descent. We could make it to the second floor, maybe. After that it was hard to judge. A huge hole was in the floor in front of us, and below it I could see the crater. Already corpses were swarming down there.

“What caused this?” Pitch wondered. “What’s animating them?”

I heard more corpses approaching from behind us. I turned and sent another barrage of lasers, this time aiming for their legs. My aim was not good; it took far too many shots to disable the three that were approaching. And already more were spilling in from all three entrances. We were about to be overwhelmed.

We’ll figure it out later. Move!

Pitch was already climbing the stairs by the time I was done with the first trio. I leapt to her side and hovered in the air, pulling Rainbow Dash off of her back so she could move faster. I was partially successful. We had not had time to remove her old enclave armor, so she was too heavy for me to carry alone, but even with just my slight support Pitch was able to move faster.

“ I’ll have you know I can run and think at the same time!” Pitch shouted. “We’ve just walked into so many mysteries...”

We came to a gap in the stairs, and had to slow as we skirted the last few bits of metal and stone that were still available to step on. Behind us the horde surged forward. The corpses ran up the stairs with no regard for safety, still eerily silent but for the clattering of their hooves. My heart pounded in my ears as we paused to surmount a small gap.

Jump on three. One-two-three!

Another gap. And then we were on the second floor. Another giant hole greeted us. I let out a sigh and glanced back, ready to fire more laser bolts. The corpses were near. I saw several had splayed themselves over the gaps in the stairway, making themselves bridges for their fellows. They moved side-by-side up the stairs, coming in lines of three. They were not moving mindlessly. They were an army. A well-coordinated, unspeaking, dead army. A black gulf of terror opened below me, but I clamped down on it before I could panic.

Cut them off!

I nodded in agreement a moment before firing more lasers. I aimed for the stairs themselves, burning away more stone and steel to widen the final gap between us and the monsters. I did not hold back my power. The energy that filled me was potent: already I could feel it rotting away at me. The hate Cadence had left in me would have to be purged, one way or another, and so I unleashed its heat on the path before me. Molten rock and steel dripped away as I kept up my barrage, firing over and over until the gap had grown as wide as two ponies. There was no way to bridge it now.

The horde stopped before us a moment later, unable to cross. I panted in the silence. After only a moment they moved again. A few of those farther back started to climb on the backs of those in front of them. I frowned, confused. My eyes widened as more began to clamber on top of others. They were trying to stack themselves high enough to lean over. I took a step back and began firing at the corpses nearest to the ground. I managed to sever a few limbs, and the burgeoning tower toppled into empty space. A series of wet splats echoed back up. But the horde did not relent in their efforts. I had to keep firing. If I stopped, they might get some across—

“Worker!”

I saw, through Pitch, a white figure falling from above us. It was headed right for me. I dodged aside at the last moment, then had to dodge again as a second figure nearly landed on top of me. The corpses of the royal guards from the floor above rose. I could tell their limbs had broken in several places from the fall, but that did not stop them from lunging at me. I flew into the air and blasted the one closest to me in the face. It staggered back, and another four shots took off its forelegs. I turned to help Pitch, but she had already bucked the second guard into the hole in the floor.

They’re too coordinated, I thought even as I turned my attention back to the stairs. The corpses had managed to stack themselves high enough, and they toppled over, extending hooves to grasp at the threshold of the second floor. I sent another volley, but it only dislodged a single pony. The corpse-bridge held itself together, and the army rushed forward. We did not have time to move. I couldn’t hope to take them all out, I simply didn’t have the right aim—

Fuckin’ let me—!

I sensed Hairpins’ intention and the push of her mind. I relented without pause, and felt my eyes move by a will not my own. I channeled my magic, and my laser bolt struck true. Three more times I felt my aim shift, focus, and three times I channeled a shot.

Bullseyes! Hairpins’ joy surged in tandem with my relief and gratitude.

The precision shots had cut through the limbs of the corpses holding onto the bridge’s edge. The whole amalgamation fell down before the first wave could make it across. The sound of their impacts made my stomach churn.

Thank you, Hairpins, I thought.

No problem. Jus’ glad ah could actually do it. Ah’d no idea if it’d work ‘er not.

What, exactly, did you do? Pitch inquired.

She aimed for me, I explained. I don’t actually know if we did such things much in the Hive. If anything Chrysalis took control from us when she wanted, but otherwise we all stuck to our default roles.

I stared at the corpses across from me, finally taking a moment to breathe. They tried once more to start their bridge, but after another volley of lasers they gave up. They stood, staring at nothing with their destroyed eyes, eerily still.

They act like they’re a hivemind, I stated. But I don’t sense anything from them. They’re just like the Windigos.

Is this what happens if you’re frozen by a Windigo for too long? Midnight wondered.

There was nothing like this in anything I read...

I shook my head, agreeing with Pitch’s intuition. They’re highly coordinated, and intelligent enough to problem solve, but somehow I can’t actually sense any minds there... it’s like... it’s like they’re controlled by an overmind, but only an overmind. The amount of concentration that would take... the amount of power... who is doing this?

I sensed movement; Midnight had glanced something from her peripheral. My attention was suddenly split between my own body and hers. She was on the stairs, looking up. Hairpins was in front of her. Their attention had been drawn to the figure that had swooped up from below the castle and now stood a few steps above them. I was hit by our collective surprise. It was Chrysalis. But something was wrong. Blood seeped from numerous wounds across her body. Chunks of ice—no! I realized they were crystals. The crystals she had been collecting, whatever they were, seemed to have activated. Shards had embedded themselves into her body, poking out from her sides and neck. They pulsed with green and purple energy, turning her body a pale and sickly blue, as if they were driving the life force from her. Her eyes frothed black and red, a mix of foul magic and burst blood vessels. On her head she wore the crown Midnight had collected; the crystal there was consumed by a dark fog which billowed out around her neck, forming a magnanimous and ethereal mane.

Chrysalis? I reached out with my mind. I heard laughter, and some force shoved my probe away. The body of the alicorn took a step toward Hairpins, wings spread. More smoke billowed out from underneath them, mixing with dripping blood.

Little ones... give me... the Heart...

“Who th’ hell’r you?” Hairpins gasped. This mind was not Chrysalis.

Oh shit. I felt Pitch’s eyes widen as the revelation hit her. It’s Sombra.

Crystal... Heart...

Dark magic burst from Chrysalis/Sombra’s horn, flashing suddenly into the form of a massive curved sword. They brought their head down, and the sword with it, crashing through the steps where Hairpins had been only a moment earlier. Both she and Midnight were already moving backwards by the time the next blow came. I heard stone crack even as I brought my attention briefly to my own body. The corpses were trying to cross again. I blasted them back, and retreated toward the stairs to the next floor. Pitch was already climbing, Rainbow Dash draped over her.

I thought Sombra was dead!? Midnight cried out as she ducked under the sweep of his dark blade. I helped channel her magic into a laser blast, but its energy dissipated before even reaching the alicorn’s skin. The crystals embedded in Sombra glowed briefly, absorbing the magic we had just thrown at them. Fear and panic flowed through all of us, and I could not tell from whom it originated.

Fools...

I felt the voice push into my mind. I tried to reach back into it, but was met by a wall of steel. It was so much more powerful than anything I had felt before. Even Unity lacked the strength to force such a one-way connection.

All the stories said he was defeated... he was shattered... into a million pieces... oh no...

It was obvious in hindsight; but so was everything. I glanced at the Crystal Heart I carried in my saddlebag. It had never left the Empire. It had never been shattered, or scattered across the land. The storm was held back by its power, even now. The pieces Chrysalis had been collecting were the remains of Sombra, which had now taken over her body that they were all assembled. They had been scattered to stop this from happening, and she had unwittingly undone that last precaution.

Anger flashed through us, and sadness from Midnight. If Chrysalis was still in there, locked behind that steel wall, I wanted one last chance to berate her for her stupidity. Had she not researched these crystals? Had she not read the ponies’ history or sought information on what she was collecting? Had she not—?

But another part of me wondered, how long had the crystal held sway over her? How long had the pieces of Sombra’s mind been weaving their way into her consciousness? A few details changed, one or two small illusions, and the allure of power would be enough to overlook details like the why and how of the Crystal Heart’s destruction. I had felt the push on my mind of the small statuettes, how the cold feeling sunk into me at night, gave me nightmares. What had their influence been on me, I wondered. What compulsions had they enhanced as I carried them?

Corpses spilled over the edge of the stairs. Some made the jump, others fell to the floor below. I fired off more lasers, walking backwards up the stairs. More corpses were still surging into the castle. I saw the pilling up near columns that supported the stairs, building themselves into towers by sheer number. How many did Sombra have control over? How many ponies could live in this city? How many would be coming for us? The grim reality of our situation sunk in. This was not just a fight, this was a siege. And we had no provisions. And they had already breached the gates.

Midnight and Hairpins neared the end of the tower stairs. Another blow from Sombra’s greatsword sent cracks through the side of the tower. Shards flew into Midnight’s face, slashing her cheek. I felt the sting on my own. Hairpins, finally on level ground on the ledge before the doorway, aimed her battle saddle at the alicorn. She fired off two shots, but a shield of black magic erupted from the ground around Sombra, and the bullets shattered on impact.

“Fuck!” was all she could gasp before ducking back into the chamber below the throne room. Sombra’s sword cut through the hairs of her tail. Midnight was already climbing the stone stairwell, and Hairpins clambered up behind her. I grit my teeth, realizing that it would be impossible for them to outrun an alicorn up stairs. I saw through both mare’s eyes as they looked at each other, having made the same calculation. They could run no further.

I froze, desperately trying to give them my wings. But mind-magic could do only so much.

Worker, Midnight began, I just want to say—

Ya’ll shut up now!!

Hairpins whipped around just as Sombra stepped back into view. The fear I felt was somehow absent from her mind. The sword rose again, bristling with magical power. It fell, and Hairpins leapt forward. The blade cut through the air, searing her side. She dove to the floor, twisting as she fell. She landed on her back, underneath the alicorn’s stomach. Using her momentum, she brought her hind legs up and bucked with all her might. Sombra let out a guttural grunt, staggering forward as he tried to shift away from Hairpins. The mare rolled and scrambled to stay underneath her foe. The sword plunged down again, but the moment it took Sombra to aim gave Hairpins time to line up her own attack. She fired twice. Sombra gasped in pain as his rear legs buckled, blood bursting onto the ground behind him. The alicorn flapped his wings, trying to stay upright. Hairpins fired again, into his chest, and he fell back, stumbling out of the doorway, landing awkwardly on his haunches. The magical shield went up again, blocking her last shot. Hairpins charged, crashing through the shield before Sombra had a chance to retaliate. The impact shoved the alicorn back, over the edge of the ledge. Sombra spread his wings to stop his fall, but Hairpins did not let up. Another volley cut through her feathers. A churning cloud of smoke and blood engulfed Sombra as he fell.

Relief and awe flooded through me, even as I felt Hairpins grinning in triumph.

“Hairpins,” Midnight said, eyes still wide, heart pounding.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m in heat now.”

The orange mare barked out a laugh as she started up the stairs after Midnight. “Well don’t slip on yer way up.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as the two mares fled to safety. In the seconds it had taken to dispatch Sombra's new body, the corpses had overwhelmed the second story. I pumped out as much energy as I could, melting the staircase behind me as I continued to make my way up. Thankfully, this section was less damaged, and Pitch was able to make her way to the third story unaided. I staggered up behind her, my horn hot with energy. I focused all my energy on a weakened section, and managed to carve another molten hole before the corpses could reach us. Again we stood at an impasse.

Little ones... give me... the Crystal...

“So how the hell do we kill this thing?” Midnight wondered. They had just closed off the secret entrance to the throne room, and paused for a moment to catch their breath. “Because if that action didn’t work...”

I shook my head. “I have no idea. Hairpins? Pitch?”

Hairpins shrugged. “What about th’ Crystal?”

“Can it be used offensively?” I wondered. Without looking back, I tested a small portion of my magic on the crystal. I felt no response, either mentally or physically. Did it have its own magic? Was it simply an amplifier? Would it respond if I put more energy into it? Or did a specific spell activate it? I had too many questions to answer and no time to test... no way to eliminate hypotheses...

The professor was stumped. “I... I don’t know. Was there anything in the story?”

“They... Celestia and Luna defeated him. It didn’t say how. It seemed like they simply overwhelmed him, but we don’t have their magic. Even if I could absorb enough love to match their power, I don’t know the right spells...”

“Maybe Miss Dash’d know?”

“I don’t know if she’s in a condition to talk. But we do have a library,” Pitch stated.

I glanced back at her, then down at the sea of corpses. “Then get studying. I don’t know how long it’ll take them to overwhelm us.”

“I’ll—”

Rainbow Dash moaned. It was the first noise she had made since we’d found her. Pitch’s eyes widened. She lowered the pegasus to the ground carefully, and lowered her ears to better hear. “Rainbow Dash?” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”

“Clear... Gilda... I’m sorry...”

“What is she saying?”

“It’s a name... I don’t know. She’s still delirious.”

“Gilda,” Rainbow Dash whispered, eyes squeezed shut. “Gilda there’s still time... we can still...”

Around me the horde roared. I jumped back, firing a laser without thinking. It went wide, but I followed it up with several more precise shots at the legs of the closet corpses. Thanks, Hairpins. They did not cease their roaring, but they did not try to cross the gap. My shock quickly turned to confusion.

“What are they doing?” Pitch and Midnight shouted through the cacophony.

A low gurgling noise rose from far below, rising in volume to overwhelm even the roaring of the horde. I stepped to a nearby edge, keeping one eye on the corpses while glancing down. I could not believe what I saw. Water gushed into the castle, pouring upward from the crater far below. It swirled, sweeping up the corpses that teemed through the space below. For a moment my heart leapt; some new force had come to wash away Sombra’s improvised army! But the water was rising. And it did not stop. The corpses did not fight the current. They simply stared up at me, getting close each second.

The bodies waiting on the stairs near me laughed. The sound was raspy and grotesque; air forced through the throat both ways by lungs that had long since atrophied into uselessness. I fired more lasers into them, but it was a pointless gesture. Once the water was at our level the chokepoint would be gone. And if the water climbed higher...

I looked up. The stairs to the rest of the castle were shattered. The damage caused by Rainbow Dash’s entrance was too extensive. I was the only one who could get any higher.

“Worker!” Pitch shouted.

“I know,” I said, already backing up to her position. She had made for the library as soon as we’d realized what was happening, dragging Rainbow Dash with her. The doors there could be barricaded, and there was, potentially, enough space to withstand the flooding. It was a faint hope. I had no idea the extent of Sombra’s control over the water, or how much was available, or if he was generating his own somehow. But it would buy us time.

“We’re coming Worker,” Midnight said. I felt desperation clawing at her mind. Hairpins had steeled herself. She was entirely focused on getting to the lower floors. The damage up there was even more extensive.

I shook my head. “Keep yourself safe; you might need to climb higher. Don’t do anything rash. Please.”

The library doors slammed shut behind me, and Pitch shoved the heavy bolts into place.

“Why does this place lock from th’ inside?” Hairpins wondered.

“For times like this,” Pitch stated. “Ideally you seal yourself with your food, but any sufficiently large space could be used as an inner stronghold when necessary. It’s what castles are for.”

I nodded, thankful for the break. I could already hear corpses scratching at the outside, but the water was far away. We had a few minutes of peace.

“Gilda... I have to... please...”

Rainbow Dash was splayed out below a nearby bookshelf. I felt the flicker of her mind as it struggled to rise from the depths of unconsciousness. Pitch was already crouched near her, whispering in her ear.

“Rainbow Dash, can you hear me? Are you alright? I’m a huge fan! Can you hear my voice?”

“Pitch,” I said, poking her side. “I’m sorry, but could you help me look for info on the Crystal? We don’t have time to worry about her right now. She’s stable.”

“Oh, I know, but... oh, I still can’t really believe it... Rainbow Dash, right in front of me, after all this time...! It’s a miracle.”

“It’ll be a miracle if we get out of here alive.” I was already trotting toward the history section where I had first read about Sombra. None of the books I’d gone through had specifics about the Crystal Heart’s power, but there were plenty I had overlooked. I picked out one at random and started reading.

The scratching at the door grew to become a continuous rake of bone on metal.

“Too slow,” Pitch commented as she joined me. “Here, don’t read each page. Skim the titles, and then look through only the chapters that look promising. Like studying for a final.”

“I’ve never studied for anything before,” I muttered.

We’re about t’ take our final with th’ Goddesses unless ya’ll step to it!

I watched Pitch through her eyes, copying her methodologies. Midnight helped me work, working through one page while I scanned the other. I even felt Hairpins adding her own concentration to the professor; the two could do little else to help us. It sped up the process tremendously. I managed to get through the first book in a little over a minute and a half. The professor was done with two already.

Three more books. No information about the Heart’s magic. I heard the first splashes from outside. Pitch flinched.

“We can worry about Rainbow later. We need a solution now.”

We did not have time to put the books back in their proper place. We were tossing them on the floor behind us as soon as we moved on from them. Pages splayed out on the ground, spines cracking form the impact. The sound of water was steady. And yet still we found nothing.

“Try using it,” Pitch demanded, even as she moved to the next book. “Just do this empirically. We don’t have time to look for a theory.”

I nodded, already taking the Heart out of my saddlebags. I focused entirely on the crystal this time, probing it with all my mental powers. Nothing. I surrounded it with my magic, trying to push into it like it was a memory orb. Nothing. I fired a weak laser at it. The energy scattered around the surface and dissipated. I tried a stronger laser. Same effect. I tired the most powerful one I could muster. Nothing. Light spells. Levitation. I let Midnight channel a few of the recreational spells she had picked up. No response.

“Fuck.” I was not a mage. I knew magic by instinct, and the basic functional spells. None of us had had the opportunity to study its deeper meanings or methods. “Fuck!”

Water trickled past my hoof. The noise outside was a grotesque gurgling. Like a bottle being slowly filled with blood and sinew.

“Worker.” Pitch was at my side. I shook my head, already knowing what she was going to say. “We’re out of time. There’s nothing here, nothing we can get to quickly at least. I think... I think you should leave me here.”

“Pitch—”

“I’m already dead. I can survive a flood. And I can hide for as long as I need to. Please, this place is big. I’ll be fine... I just...”

“I know. I’ll take care of Rainbow Dash. But help me get her out of her armor first.”

The rest did need to be said. I did not bring up the fact that Pitch might be ripped to shreds by Sombra’s horde out of spite, because my staying would not change the situation. Pitch did not need to say that her life was not worth letting Sombra get his hooves on the Heart, for that was obvious. I did not cry that I wanted her alive because she was my friend; I felt her love for me already.

“I need...” Rainbow Dash muttered. “I need to clear the skies...”

The pegasus pony looked small outside of her armor. The blue mare was light on my back, and it was easy to fly with her, even in my undisguised state. I thanked Pitch for her help.

“Go hide somewhere. We still have time before I need to open the doors.”

The water did not stop coming. It drained across the floor, dousing the bookshelves that had so long hidden from the withering of time. I regretted moving on from this place so quickly before. So much history would be lost. So much knowledge we would never get back. But I could not let that distract me now. The water felt warm on my hooves, like fresh blood. I shivered.

I think, Pitch began, that I have a guess as to why Rainbow Dash is here. She was galloping away, to the opposite side of the caste. She had found a small reading room there, with plenty of bookshelves to barricade and hide behind.

You said she time-traveled.

I kept my eyes ahead, holding off for as long as I could. I had no idea what to expect outside of that door, but I had no doubt I would have to be fast to get through unscathed. Pitch was as terrified as I was. Her mind was whirring, clinging to the only problem available that she had a chance of figuring out. I knew now we should probably have been thinking about a way out of the situation, but I let her ramble on about Rainbow Dash’s journey.

Yes, but why to now? That is the real question. Really, out of every time and place she could have landed, this time is one of the more useless ones. She’s a smart mare, and she always wanted to do what’s right. If she were to travel of her own volition, I think she would have gone to some time before the war to try and stop it. I don’t think she had control over her trajectory.

And that means...?

Well, she appeared from that huge concentration of energy you pumped into the sky, right?

Yes... That detail had not been lost on me, but I had not had time to muse on the connections between the two events. Cadence’s hate, the power I had channeled, Rainbow Dash arriving, and then Sombra’s revival. Too much had happened too fast.

I think... I think that is what summoned her. When she broke through the light barrier, that would have released a huge amount of energy. If she had no target... well, I don’t know how much you know about magnets—

Absolutely nothing.

—but, one enormous energy event might act as a pole to another. Or maybe, somehow, the explosions connected, making a bridge? Or.. I don’t know. I don’t know why here, why now. Rainbow Dash, what was she trying to do? Clear the skies? She wouldn’t need to fly faster than reality for that... would she lose control? Maybe there’s no reason. Maybe... oh, maybe it’s all for nothing... oh Rainbow, why...?

Stop, I told her. Focus on now. We can get through this. Then we can worry about the why.

I steeled myself. I could not afford to wait any longer. I could not indulge Pitch in her desperate ravings. I leapt into the air, hovering for a moment. With my magic, I pulled at the lock. The doors burst open. A wave of water and corpses rushed inward. I darted forward, keeping as high as I could. The corpses had stacked themselves against the door, and as they collapsed forward a few managed to vault toward me. Two got close enough to be threatening, and I shot them down. Behind me I heard bookshelves topple and water splash in every direction. Below me the horde moaned and water gurgled.

I was back in the central space in an instant. The water level held steady, having risen to cover the third floor. Corpses were still clogging the waves, bobbing or trying to climb up the walls and stairs. It looked almost mindless, but I knew Sombra was simply trying every pathway he could find. The water had surged upward as soon as I had appeared, but it was still slow.

I flew upwards, careful to keep Rainbow Dash steady on my back. Midnight and Hairpins had fallen back to the throne room, already thinking of climbing back up the outer stairwell. I saw no other path to safety, but even that would be temporary. We needed a way out. We needed something more.

“Gilda...” Rainbow muttered again. “We can... clear the skies... we need to...”

“Rainbow Dash,” I said as I swooped toward the massive doors of the throne room. “Can you hear me?”

Midnight met me as I landed. Hairpins was pacing near the throne, her mind running through every resource we’d seen in the castle so far. Nothing came to mind. There were no arms here. No siege weapons or further fortifications.

“Help me... clear...”

“She’s getting more coherent,” I stated. “I don’t understand why she won’t wake.”

“Maybe th’ drugs are still workin’? Med potions don’t clear a high,” Hairpins said. “They were designed t’ be used t’gether in battle. Gal’s still crashin’, ah’d bet.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Pitch muttered to herself. I still don’t understand... I could hear the water swirling around her. I could feel that she had pressed herself into the farthest corner of the room, under an old desk and chair. I pulled my mind back, not wanting our link to give her position away.

Hide yourself, Pitch, I told her. Keep your mind as quiet as you can.

I felt her acknowledgement a moment before I heard hooffalls nearing us from the hallway.

No— How—? So fast!

I turned, but it was too late to shut the doors. A figure stood before us. Not one of the horde, for the water could not have risen so quickly; it was Sombra himself. He grinned a smile full of malice and power, and let the triumph radiate from his mind. His form was that of a pony, clad in black and grey armor. The crown on his head billowed smoke which swept back into an ethereal mane. His body was covered with jagged scars—cracks where the shattered crystals of his form had stitched themselves back together. Silver liquid seeped from those cracks, giving his coat an unusual sheen. His eyes were a mix of purple and green, changing at each line of the cracks that ran through them. He licked his lips, drooling silver and smoke. His horn glowed with power.

“What magnanimous gifts you have brought me, little ones. The Crystal Heart, and this relic from Celestia’s fallen kingdom. I will humbly accept these supplications once I ascend to my throne.”

Hairpins shot him. The bullets bored into his chest. Smoke, blood, and grey liquid spilled out in long trails behind him. He did not so much as flinch.

He threw back his head and laughed. “Oh little one, were I so easy to kill, I would not have required the crude banishment of the Princesses to be dethroned.”

More bullets added to the apparent damage, but none of it seemed to faze him as he walked forward. Midnight and I grabbed Rainbow Dash in our magic and hefted her onto my back. Hairpins kept shooting as she moved backwards with us. We hit the lever and flew down the secret stairwell, knowing there was nowhere left to flee to.

What do we do? I wondered. Midnight had tears in her eyes. How do we get out of this?

The stairs were before us, broken in places by Sombra’s earlier attack, but still climbable. Below us I saw the water flowing through the Empire’s streets, still drawn toward the base of the tower by Sombra’s power. The horde was not yet all inside either, black shapes still moved, some swimming, some simply being carried by the current. All that matter funneled into the castle, steam rising from it with the smell of roasting compost.

Ah don’t know if we do, Hairpins stated. We were galloping up the stairs now, buying ourselves as much distance as we could. Sombra’s cackle echoed in the back of our minds. Only one of us c’n fly.

I’m not leaving you, I said. I can’t—

Ya can. And ya’ will. Hairpins was not mad as she spoke. I knew the memories she carried with her. I felt the sadness of this situation multiplied in her past. My own vision blurred as she kept speaking. It feels good, t’ think we might all die t’gether, die fer the sake of one another. But yer own survival is what’s important. Dying here for us does nothin’. It ain’t yer fault this happened. It ain’t wrong t’ save yer own skin when ya’ can. An’ besides, ya’ c’n carry one other pony, right? Take Midnight an’ go. Find th’ right ponies who c’n help ya’ fix this mess.

Midnight could no longer run. We were crying too hard.

It’s hard, she told us. It’s really hard. But ya’ll can live with it, and ya’ll got t’ live, if ya can. Who else is gunna remember me, anyhow? Who else is gunna make me a proper grave?

I stomped my foot down.

“Only if we have to,” I managed to choke out. “Only when there’s no other choice.”

Hairpins nodded. “Thanks. Ah appreciate it. Now let’s keep moving.”

When we reached the top, the sun had just touched the edge of the clouds. The air was still around us, and the smoke that had billowed up through the gaping hole in the tower was gone. I could see nothing but blackness below, and I heard the faint echoes of splashing and gurgling. I turned away from it.

“Well... fuck.”

We stood in a triangle, the Crystal Heart and Rainbow Dash between us. The churning agony in my gut told me to act, to do something, but we were out of ideas. None of us had a clue how to activate the Heart. Rainbow still had not stirred.

“Do we have any medicine left?”

“No. It’s all been either used or broken by this point.”

I tried reaching out to Pitch with my mind, but she had cut herself off, or else was too far away. I sighed. With any luck, Sombra would not notice her presence. Out of frustration, I jabbed a hoof into the blue mare’s side. I felt her mind respond at last.

“Rainbow Dash?” Midnight whispered into her ear. “Can you hear me?”

“Hold on,” I said. “I have an idea.”

I took a deep breath, then disguised as Rarity. Sorry, Spike, I thought to myself. The coldness from the statuettes grew stronger in my mind.

“Rainbow Dash!” I shouted, jabbing harder this time. “Wake up!” She grunted. I sighed, then gave her a kick to the side. “On your feet, soldier!”

“Ah! I’m up, I’m—!” She jolted to her feet, eyes open wide. Whatever dreams or thoughts she may have had vanished in a burst of emotion which suddenly coalesced into a single pulse of awe. She stared, mouth agape, at the sky. “It’s clear...”

A wave of joy washed through her, followed by grief. She fell back on her haunches, tears streaming down her cheeks. I drank from the plethora of emotion that came from her, hoping that somehow more power would save me. I felt it begin to cleanse the foul energies that Cadance’s hate had left in me. I sighed.

Midnight’s eyebrows rose, and she glanced down at the Heart. Worker—

“Rainbow,” I began. “Rainbow Dash, we need your help.”

“I can’t believe it worked... I...” She blinked, and slowly looked at me. She blinked again. “Rarity? Where...” She glanced around herself, finally taking in where she was. “Why are we... in the Empire? Who are you two? I was headed to... how long was I—?”

Little ones. Give me my Heart.

Sombra crested the top of the tower, stepping into view a moment after his demand slammed into our minds. Behind me I heard the water gurgling. Our flight had bought us a minute of rest. I prayed it would be enough.

“Sombra!?” Rainbow Dash gasped. “What the hell? Rarity, what’s happe—?”

Sombra rushed us, his sword of dark energy emerging from the smoke of his mane. We scattered; Hairpins right, Midnight left, and I backwards. Rainbow jumped into the air on instinct, and the sword cut through the area she had just occupied. Sombra swiveled, bringing the blade down on Midnight. Hairpins and I surged forward in our minds. Midnight rolled, firing a laser as she did so, all the time clutching the Crystal Heart to her chest. The laser burnt through Sombra’s head, and he staggered back. But only a moment later the wound was gone.

“Rainbow, grab the Heart!”

Without missing a beat, Midnight flung the Heart into the air. She stepped back, erecting a flimsy shield to withstand Sombra’s next strike. It shattered on impact, but it was enough. The blade passed a hair’s length from her nose. Sombra paused in his assault, and looked up.

Rainbow Dash had, thankfully, enough of her wits about her to heed our cry. She had the Heart in her arms and was hovering a safe distance away from the tower, watching us with wide eyes.

“Go—” I began.

“Will you abandon them?” Sombra boomed. “Will you flee, as you did before? Will you let another of your friends die?” He leveled his blade in my direction. I took another step back, and felt that I was at the edge of the hole. The water was very near. Soon the horde would be upon us as well.

I’m sorry, Hairpins.

Don’t be. Ah’ve made my peace. Ah’m tellin’ ya’ll t’ leave me.

She fired another round into Sombra. The beastly king turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised.

“Stop fuckin’ with us an’ get it over with, ya’ coward. Ya’ve lost! Dash’s got th’ Heart, an’ you’ll never see it again, so help me Celestia. Ah—”

“Silence.” His magic flared as he turned to face Midnight—

Water erupted from the hole. I tumbled forward as corpses spilled out and reached for me. I leapt away, regaining my footing, and fired a barrage of lasers into the bodies that crawled toward me. Their skin sloughed off them as they moved, the water having broken the last few barriers that had kept their decay at bay. I saw Hairpins retreat down the stairs, taking pot-shots at Sombra as he pursued her in a reenactment of their earlier chase. I glanced at Midnight—

Worker... Worker I need you to listen to me...

She was curled up and holding her stomach closed. Blood spread out from around her.

“Midnight!”

Worker... I need you... to listen...

I was at her side, holding her head in my forelegs. I tried to trigger my magic, but I did not know any healing spells. Could I cauterize the wound? Would a laser spell—?

Worker. Listen.

I’m listening. I held back the flood in my chest. I did not let myself think.

I am your friend. I want to thank you, for being my friend. I know you’ve had a very unhappy life. But I want you, now, to be happy. I need you to be happy. Because I’m happy to have known you, and I want you to know this was worth it. Seeing all this... I am happy.

And I felt it. I felt her joy, even as her life faded. I felt her focus on the memories that made her happiest; I saw the best times of her life. And I felt where that energy was going. I understood.

Thank you, Midnight, I thought, placing my head against hers. I could not stop from sobbing, even as I tried to add to her good feelings. Thank you for being my friend... for showing me it was possible. For accepting me... I... I can’t express how much you mean to me.

And the moment I thought it I realized it was true. Midnight, Pitch, and Hairpins. They were my friends. I had learned to understand them, and to value them as who they were, not simply as sources for my feedings. I had not had to think about finding love for a long while now. I had not even had to feed consciously. They gave their love freely, as they had given me their trust. I had found a better way; they had shown me a better way. Midnight had supported me when no one else would; she had defended who I was, and had accepted me for what I was. She had shown me how to live peacefully in a world full of war.

Thank you, Midnight, I said one last time. You are my friend, and I love you.

I love you too, Worker. I’m glad I got to see all this.

I felt my own emotions lift away from me. They floated up, joining with Midnight’s, drawn inexorable to the same place: The Crystal Heart. The vessel was an amplifier. ‘It uplifts the spirits of ponies all across Equestria,’ the book had read. It was no more complex than that. It took love, and made it stronger. It took the energy that made ponies good, and spread it to the world.

Sombra appeared before us, face twisted in rage and fear, but it was too late. The Heart was glowing with energy. Rainbow Dash looked on in utter confusion as the glow increased, but she did not loosen her grip. Sombra leapt into the air with a desperate shriek, but the energy from Midnight and I had been enough.

For a moment, the Crystal Heart glowed brighter than the sun, then its energies flowed outward, rushing past us in a blinding wall of light. It reminded me of when Chrysalis and her army had been flung from Canterlot, but this time I was not pushed away. I heard a horrible cry, and the sound of glass twisting and shattering. Air rushed by us, stinging my cheeks with cold. A moment later silence reigned.

I looked up, still holding Midnight. The corpses around us were still. Sombra was nowhere to be seen, and the Heart glowed gently in Rainbow’s grasp.

It worked...

Good...

I felt her mind fading, felt her emotions flicker, her thoughts become incoherent. I let myself feel grief, then. I wept, clutching her to my chest. The ground shook around us, but I did not react. I heard a cacophony from far below as the water that had been suspended by Sombra’s magic crashed back through the castle. A deep groaning followed, even as the shaking stopped.

“Ah... fuck...” I heard Hairpins drawl.

The groaning grew louder, and I felt the world move around me. I wept into Midnight’s mane, her blood staining my coat. I did not let go as the tower started to topple. I did not transform as the castle’s legs gave out and we slid off into the air. I did not even think of letting go as we fell. I stayed with Midnight as I felt her mind slip away. I wrapped my mind around her soul, feeling her joy, giving her my own, making sure she did not feel alone as she slipped away into nothing.

Then she was gone.

Then I let go.

Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Hive Mind - When the collective HP of your party drops below 30%, all conscious members of your party (including yourself) roll whenever a check is performed by any member of your party for any reason. The highest roll (after all modifiers) is what is applied to that member’s action. Additionally, your party cannot critically fail any action and gains immunity to critical hits. Death during battle does not invalidate a party member’s contribution to collective HP while that battle is still in progress. (Note: Hive Mind and the perk The Magic of Friendship are mutually exclusive.)

Author's Note

Thanks again to everyone who's made it this far. I hope you all are faring well during these trying times. Wash your hands and stay safe!

Only one chapter left; I'll try to get it out as soon as I can!

(Also here's another plug for my book!)

Chapter 20: Fallout

“It will be a slow extinction from apathy, indifference, and undernourishment.”

I woke up in ruins. The sky was red, and growing dark.

I took in a single breath, and then burst into tears. It took several seconds of sobbing for me to feel the pain in my body. My back ached, my limbs felt like rubber, and bright spurts of pain shot through my chest on every inhale. I curled into a ball and kept weeping. I stared at the ground in front of me, thinking of nothing. The wind howled in the distance. The air grew colder.

As I grieved, a small part of my mind began to take stock of my situation. I was undisguised. My energy was low. I must have hurt myself badly in the fall. I must have regenerated as much as I could. I had let go of Midnight too late to fly away from the collapsing tower, but early enough to avoid splattering myself on the ground. I did not want to think about Midnight’s body.

Midnight. Midnight was dead. My friend was gone.

Death, for the Hive, had hurt. Chrysalis raged and wept over every child she lost. That pain was spread out over our minds. We had shared it, borne it for her, and kept moving. I had been a drone then. I had loved my family, but I had not known what it was to think for myself. I still missed Maggy. I was horrified at what Fugax had done. But Midnight, now, hurt the most. I had no one to share this pain with. No other mind to held me bare the loss—

I jerked up, dread coursing through me.

Hairpins!? Pitch!?

Silence. The tower had fallen at an angle, listing over before cracking in half. The legs still stood, supporting a jagged mess of dull crystal. Rock had split and spewed out into the southern part of the city. I was at the western edge of that streak of destruction, still near the castle. I cried out again for Hairpins and Pitch, and heard only my echo. My vision blurred again.

Help...

I snapped my head toward the mind I felt. The shadows were growing long across the ground, making it almost impossible to see anything in the ruins of the tower. I stumbled forward, picking my way slowly over the large stones and boulders that now littered the central plaza. I felt the mind respond to the noise I made.

Pitch? Hairpins?

Ah... my child...

Chrysalis lay only a few paces before me, utterly ruined. Her body was full of holes and deep gashes where Sombra’s crystals had clung to her. Her wings were in tatters, all her legs broken. Cracks ran from her neck up to her horn, leaking a faint white substance. She was covered in dust and small rocks, miraculously spared from the tower’s collapse; or perhaps one of her shields had been enough. But her energy was now spent completely. She was barely able to raise her head to look at me—the soft glow of eyes was already fading. I stared at her, and shuddered.

I am... sorry, she stated. I was deceived.

I could not muster up the rage I wished to feel. I could blame her for Midnight’s death, for Sombra’s return, for my whole lot in life up to this point if I really wanted to. Yet I found I could not be angry at her anymore. I knew the effort to take all those experiences and place them before her would not bring me peace. Hate would not drive away sorrow. Justice would not undo the damage already dealt.

I felt, in that moment, that our past was moot. Midnight was dead. I did not know where my friends were. What did Chrysalis mean to me in light of my current misery? What would causing her more pain do for me?

We have the Heart now... we can fix you, I thought. I need... I need to find it...

I am sorry, my child, Chrysalis said again. I... the moment we stepped close enough; the moment he was in range of the last shard of his being, he overwhelmed me. Before I understood what happened, I was teleporting outside of the caves. He would have taken the Heart... it was only the Wendigos that stopped him... I should have sensed his presence. I should have known... I should not have lost a battle of the mind to such a foul creature...

She struggled to rise, or to move closer. I shook my head, already looking away and searching for the Heart.

Don’t move. I might be able to save you. I might...

“My child...” she said, her voice ragged. “I am sorry.”

“Stop!” I shouted, venom in my voice. “I don’t care anymore. I can’t... I can fix you. I need... I just need the heart...”

Hairpins? Pitch!?

I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling. It had happened again. Rolling Stone. Surprise... Just as I had learned to be better. Just as I had finally made friends, it was all gone. My efforts amounted to nothing in the face of the powers around me. Gleaming, Unity, the Wendigos, Sombra... I had survived them all, but I had lost my friends in the process. I had been powerless to help them, even as they had saved me. I would be alone again. I would have to start over, or die in this cold wasteland—

“Pitch!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “Hairpins!?”

“Hello? Rarity!?”

The voice came from behind me, still distant. I turned around, disguising reflexively. I felt a cold presence surge into my mind, but I shoved it back down into my saddlebags. A blue figure climbed into view, emerging from behind a pack of rubble with a grunt. Rainbow Dash looked up at me, her face and mind flooding with relief. My heart leapt to my throat: Hairpins was slumped over her back, unconscious but breathing steadily. I let out a sob of relief.

“Rarity! Thank Celestia!” Rainbow started to pick her way toward me. She had taken the time to don Hairpin’s gear. The battle-saddle fit loosely around her, and I saw the Crystal Heart poking out of her saddlebags. I was again flooded with emotion. Maybe I could fix this. Maybe this time would be different... Maybe Midnight had saved us all...

“Rarity, what the hell is going on? Who is this mare? What was that on the tower? Why was Sombra here? Why are we here—?” She stopped, eyes narrowing. She took a step back, and pointed her guns at something behind me. I blinked in surprise, turning to look. Chrysalis had shifted into view, managing to rest her head against a nearby boulder. Blood coated the ground around her.

“What is that!?” Rainbow asked.

“Help...” was all Chrysalis could manage.

I turned back to Rainbow Dash, my mind clicking slowly back into gear. Hairpins was alive. Rainbow Dash had the Heart. She had no reason to suspect me now, but she would know about changelings. I had no idea what she was going through, besides utter confusion, but she believed me to be her friend. I needed to calm her down, use the Heart to heal Chrysalis, if I could, and then we could work things out. Honesty would come last; I couldn’t risk whatever her reaction might be if I confessed everything right away.

“Rainbow,” I started. “Please, calm down. She’s not dangerous. She’s very hurt. I need your help to heal her.”

“I... okay... but, Rarity, what is she?” The mare took a step closer.

“She is... an alicorn.”

Rainbow’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not... that’s not either of the Goddesses... Rarity, what the hell do you mean?”

Chrysalis started to speak, but I urged her quite with my mind.

“No, she’s not one of the Goddesses... Rainbow, she’s... well, it’s hard to explain, but... Twilight made her.” I tried to dig through what I had gleaned from Trixie’s mind when I had connected to Unity. An experiment gone wrong... that was all I remembered. “She was trying... to help the war effort.” I could think of no other reason for trying to manufacture alicorns.

“Twilight...?” Rainbow Dash blinked. “Wait, where is Twilight? Where’s everypony else? ” I knew she was referring to her friends. I felt the fear in her gut, but I also had her trust. She looked at me with a desperate expression, like a lost child looking for their mother. I took a deep breath in.

“Rainbow, how much do you... remember... from before now?”

“I... I had just left Canterlot. The pegasi...” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Those numbskulls... they’d closed off the sky. Like that was going to help anypony. Gilda was waiting for me, and I was out of gas. I... fuck, Gilda... I’m so sorry.” She swallowed a sob. “I realized, I could clear the sky... they could shut me out, but they couldn’t do anything against a Sonic Rainboom. But I was so tired... I didn’t think I was going to last much longer, so I... I took everything. And I aimed for the center of Equestria...” She shook her head, looking at me again. “Rarity, did it work? Is that why I’m here? Did I clear the skies? Did I overshoot?”

I felt pressure from the statuettes as they resonated with her grief.

I bit my lip, unsure on how to proceed. I felt her hope, I felt her despair. How could I possibly start to tell her what had happened? “Rainbow, we don’t have time to explain what you did—but you did do something. Right now, I want to save her.” I pointed to Chrysalis. “Because she is injured, and I’m tired of ponies dying around me. The Crystal Heart might be able to do it. Can you give it to me?”

“I... sure... okay. One thing at a time. I get it.” She nodded, still blinking back tears. She craned her neck back to grab the Heart, and took a step closer to me. I reached out with my magic—

The cold magic of the statuettes gripped me for just a moment. All of their strength, and they pulled the channels of my magic just a step off from the path I had intended. It was enough. My disguise fell. Rainbow and I froze, staring wide-eyed at each other. Rage erupted across her features.

“You—!”

“I can explain—!”

I dodged a buck from her legs and she whipped around, pulling the Heart away from me just as I tried to grasp it. I flung my saddlebags away, cursing my luck. I managed to keep only a single knife gripped in my magic. The statuettes had survived all my ordeals only to betray me—had I not tried to be better? Could they not see that I was trying to be a good person? Or did they only sense Changeling and automatically work against me? A fraction of a soul, split and frozen across dozens of immutable fetishes must not have the capacity for change or forgiveness.

“Don’t shoot!” I cried, holding the knife before my face as a desperate shield. I was only partially hidden behind a pile of cracked crystal. Rainbow stared daggers at me, her barrels leveled.

“Start talking, Changeling! Why the fuck are we here? What have you done with Rarity?”

“Nothing! I was only using her image to avoid this situation—!”

“Is she still alive—!?”

“Yes! Otherwise I couldn’t disguise as her, I swear—!”

“What are trying to do with the Heart? Why the hell was Sombra here!?”

“I swear, I just want to heal her—”

“What is that thing, really!?”

“An alicorn, I wasn’t lying about Twilight—”

“Where is Twilight? Where is anyone?” She shrugged Hairpins off her back, and stepped away, suddenly fearful. “Is this pony real? How many of you are there?”

“Just me, I promise! Please, calm down, I don’t want to fight—”

“I know you can’t fight! All you and your queen do is trick us! You need to explain—everything starting now. Why are you here? Why was Sombra here? Why—” She glanced around, seeming to take in where she was for the first time. “Where are all the Crystal Ponies? Where is Cadence? Where is Shining? Are you trying to—?”

Motion in the sky above us. My eyes were drawn to it automatically, and Rainbow followed my gaze. She jumped into the air, turning, expecting some new threat. A black streak crested the southeastern ridge of clouds, and started spiraling slowly inward toward the remains of the Empire. Rainbow glanced at me, but I shook my head, as clueless as she.

“I don’t know. Rainbow Dash, I swear I just want to—”

“Shut up!” She continued to hover, keeping both me and the incoming blob of black within view. A minute passed in silence. I stewed in my anxiety. I could hear Chrysalis’ breathing grow more ragged. Yet I knew I could not fight Rainbow Dash in the open, not with how tired I was. The new apparition grew close enough to resolve itself. I sank to my haunches in despair.

Five Enclave pegasi flew toward the castle, each fully clad in their signature black armor.

“Fuck,” Rainbow cursed.

“Let me help you,” I begged. “We can take them. We can hide in the castle legs and—”

“Shut up, dammit!” Rainbow looked between me and the incoming pegasi, face contorting as she struggled to make a decision. I watched the Enclave soldiers begin their descent. They were almost to the threshold of the city proper. I did not know how long it would take them to spot us, but they could reach the castle in a matter of seconds if they aimed right for it.

“Fuck!” Rainbow flew away, low to the ground, sweeping under the remains of the castle and vanishing behind it. I glanced back at the pegasi. They had started to circle the city, scanning every inch before moving inward on their next pass. I was grateful for their caution. I did not hesitate to hoist Hairpins onto my back, checking quickly to see that she had no major injuries. I scrambled over to Chrysalis, and summoned what slime I could muster from the back of my throat. Though it would not repair her body, I could use bits of cocoon to dress the worst of her injuries. Or so I hoped.

My child... thank you...

“Save your strength, Chrysalis,” I urged her. “The Enclave is here.”

Ah. I felt a flicker of rage ignite in her ailing mind. I see.

I spat out the last of my reserves, and stumbled away without waiting for the patches to harden. I made for the closest leg of the castle, hoping that I would not be seen. I did not have time to glance back, not with Hairpins weighing me down. I kept low, pressing myself close to the largest rocks I could find, using the long shadows of the growing dusk to keep myself obscured.

I cursed my luck. I cursed the Enclave. It did not surprise me that they had been attracted here. A massive energy orb, a Sonic Rainboom, and the Crystal Heart’s light? If they’d had so much as a blind foal monitoring any part of the nearby sky they would have noticed something amiss. But why must they come now? Why not minutes earlier, when their firepower might have helped delay Sombra? Why not an hour later, after I might have talked Rainbow Dash down?

Sudden grief ran through my thoughts, and I snarled, cursing my lot in life. I was trying to do better. All I wanted were some friends. I was trying to help. Did I not deserve happiness? Had I not earned at least a respite between my miseries?

The world was silent. But I did not stop.

The stairs were before me, only two pony-lengths away. I stepped forward, and three Enclave soldiers landed before me. I heard the other two touch down behind me. I grit my teeth and sighed. All their weapons were aimed at me. I dropped the knife I had been carrying.

“Holy shit, sarge. It’s a fuckin’ Changeling.” The pony who spoke was directly in front of me.

“I can see that, private.” The pony who answered was behind and to my right. I could barely tell them apart by their voices; they all looked identical.

“What the hell is one doing here?” The pony to my left.

“Let’s ask it,” the sergeant said, stepping around to face me. A thin red patch across his chest was all that distinguished him. “Changeling. Why are you here?”

I stared at the strange bug-like eyes of the sergeant's suit. I found that I was not scared, nor could I feel the hate or sadness that had filled me moments before. I had to find a way out of this situation, or my fate would be death or worse, but my emotions had disconnected from that fact. I tried to reach out with my mind, but all I could sense around me was a vague hostility. I sighed, my numbness turning to a great weariness.

“I was trying to help,” I said.

“Help who?”

“Equestria,” I stated. “The Crystal Heart is supposed to restore ponies’ happiness.”

“Is that what those energy events were? Did you activate the Heart?”

“Yes.”

“You’re trying to find love? Is that why you did it?”

I sighed. Of course they would know how Changelings worked. They had dissected us.

“I had love. I had friends.” I motioned to Hairpins on my back. “One of them died. I wanted... I just wanted to help.”

“Huh. And here I thought you bugs were supposed to be good at lying. What caused the tower to collapse? The Heart does not have that kind of power.”

“It was old, bound to topple. The Heart just gave it the right nudge.” There was no way they would believe me if I brought up Sombra.

They were silent for a moment. Then the sergeant shook his head. I saw small movements from the other Enclave around me. I cursed to myself. They were using their radios to talk. I would get no insight from them. My skills were useless here. I doubted I could kill even one of them, what with their armor to block my teeth and horn. I saw no path out of this predicament.

Pitch? I called. Pitch are you there?

Nothing.

“Changeling,” the sergeant’s voice was suddenly threatening. “Where is the Heart?”

“I don’t have it—”

“Where is it?”

“I... someone else took it. She flew away. I don’t know where she went.”

He cocked his head. “You’re saying a pegasus took it? Private, are there any deserters known to lurk around this area?”

“No, Sir.”

“Changeling. Do not insult our nation in your lies.”

I sighed again, lowering my head to the ground. Another patriot. Another kingdom hoping to dominate the Wasteland. I was so tired.

“I’m not lying. She’s not from here. She’s from very far away. That’s all I know. But she flew away just after you showed up. She’s very fast. If you don’t start looking now, I don’t think you’ll find her.”

“Do not worry about us, Changeling. And do not think we can’t see through your lies. You have yet to mention what happened to the frozen ponies in this city, and we know the castle was stable. We also observed energy events with significantly different signatures. You need to start from the beginning, and explain in full. Or I will wake up your friend—” He pointed the guns mounted at his sides at Hairpins. “—and start breaking her legs. Talk.”

I looked up at him, more exhausted by his cruelty than afraid. My cheeks hurt, but I swallowed my sadness.

“If I told you Sombra came back, would you believe me?”

“Sombra?” Another moment of silent radio chatter. “Changeling, are you insane?”

“Or Rainbow Dash? What if I told you that four out of the six ministry mares are still alive, in one sense or another.”

He barked out a laugh. “Is this your recourse? Are you playing the mental patient?”

“I’ll talk all you want,” I said. “But those are the only answers I can offer. I won’t resist. But please don’t hurt my friend. She’s just a normal pony.”

The sergeant clicked his tongue. “This is an odd specimen. But at least I believe you will be compliant. T-ought, T-sev, do another sweep. See if we missed any other heat signatures. Four, two, prepare the prisoners for extrication.”

Two of the ponies before me lifted off as the others stepped closer. They lifted Hairpins off my back, and set her on the ground. They brought out a strange metallic device that clamped onto my shell. I felt a strange, soft fire course through me, and my wings cramped. I found myself unable to bring them away from my sides. Whatever magic or technology this was, it meant I wouldn’t be flying of my own power any time soon. They did not seem to have any null rings, however.

A gunshot rang out.

The three Enclave soldiers were on alert. One of the privates pushed me to the ground, standing over me and keeping me pinned with a hoof while they scanned the sky, weapons ready. The three soldiers twitched their heads left and right, ears flicking in a nervous gesture. I felt anxiety in the one holding me down, but barely a hint of feeling from the sergeant. Another gunshot echoed from behind the tower. A jolt of shock came from the pony above me. Seconds later, I heard the distant thud of heavy metal impacting the ground. One of the Enclave had fallen.

The sound of gunfire reverberated across the city.

Rainbow Dash? I tried to reach out to her. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, but I desperately wanted her to understand I was on her side. But I could not find her mind. She was too closed off. Instead I only felt the flickering consciousness of Chrysalis, barely aware of what was transpiring.

“Move it, Changeling!” I yelped as the soldier bit down on my neck and heaved me to my feet. She shoved me toward the castle stairs as her companion carried Hairpins forward. The sergeant was backing up, tracking the air with his weapons as if he were trying to aim through the castle remains. When we reached the castle I was shoved rudely against the wall, and again pinned by my captors. The other private dumped Hairpins next to us and leapt into the sky, vanishing from my vision. The sergeant followed.

The sporadic gunfire became a constant rattle as the sound bounced back and forth off the ruins before us. I covered my ears and squirmed under the hoof of the last Enclave soldier.

“Stay still, Changeling,” she demanded, anger seeping into her voice. “We can always take the other one prisoner instead.

“I’m the only one left,” I said. “Hairpins is a real pony, I swear. Test her. I’m sure you have a way to do that.”

“Do you think we’re stupid, bug?” I felt her rage break through her calm veneer. “You idiots can look like anypony, and you decide to look like a 200-year-old dead mare? Fucking morons.” I grunted as she pushed her hoof into my back.

I blinked in confusion. “You mean... Rainbow Dash?” Did she not realize I had been trying to defend Hairpins? Did that mean she already believed she was a real pony? Outside, the gunfire lessened for a moment.

“You fucker!” I felt her emotions spike again. This time she kicked me. “This was supposed to be a recon job. How the fuck... Your ‘Rainbow Dash’ just killed another one of my friends! Drop the act or I’ll fucking gut you right now.”

“I swear—”

“Actually, no. You know what? I think I’ll get the sarge to take her in alive. Then you can watch as we dissect her, layer by layer. Yeah... yeah, that sounds good to me. We’ll see how much of a pony your ‘Rainbow Dash’ is on the inside.” She pressed down harder, and I cried out in pain. Despair rushed through me, and I gave myself over to weeping again. I just wanted my friends to be safe. I just wanted the misery to end. What was the point of this cruelty?

A new presence in my mind silenced me. I gasped. In my focus on the soldiers around me, I had not felt Hairpins waking up. She was scanning my mind, catching up on the details she had missed since the tower’s collapse: Enclave. Captured.

Without wasting a moment she sprang up, slamming into the Enclave soldier with all her weight. The pegasus only staggered, but it was enough for me to roll out from underneath her. I channeled my meager magic reserves. I could not generate a laser, but I had just enough to heat up my horn. I stabbed at her neck, screaming as melting metal seared my scalp. But I pierced her armor, and the rush of blood that came when I jerked out was enough to cool the molten glob before it could drip any farther down. I kept screaming as I ripped it off with my magic. I clutched at my forehead and scalp, feeling the blood bubble up from the mess of chitin, skin, and exposed bone.

“Fuck! Fuck!” I could do little else but scream and cry.

Hold on, now. Keep yer calm! I watched through my mind’s eye as Hairpins fiddled with the dead mare’s suit. I recalled where Pitch had searched when examining Rainbow Dash and directed her to the medical compartment. We were lucky: the Enclave soldier had a single healing potion jacked into her suit. Hairpins popped it open and helped pour it into my wound. I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt my scalp stitch back together. The pain subsided enough for me to open my eyes.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Don’t ya’ worry about it,” Hairpins said, giving me a weak smile. “Ah jus’ don’t want t’ lose another friend.” A pulse of grief went through us both, but we could not afford to indulge it. I stood up, wobbly on my feet. Hairpins fiddled with my wing restraints until she found the release button. I breathed a sigh of relief as they clattered to the ground.

“Help me get her armor off. If I can help Rainbow Dash—”

I heard another crash from outside. I glanced up from the dead pegasus to see what it was. My heart sank in my chest.

Rainbow Dash lay in a pile of rubble, struggling to stand. Blood stained her coat, coming from innumerable scrapes and cuts where bullets had grazed her skin. Her left eye was swollen shut, and her wings had lost clumps of feathers. I saw two bullets had hit their mark: one hole on her foreleg oozed blood, another had obliterated her left ear, leaving half her face covered in red. Another volley of gunshots rang out, and somehow she managed to scramble behind a rock just in time. Hairpins ground her teeth.

“A damn bug, wearing the skin of a traitor, kills three of my soldiers,” the sergeant's voice boomed from the sky. “You’ll die slowly, Changeling! You and all your kind: the last scourge of the old world.”

Hairpins and I pressed ourselves against the entrance to the castle. The sergeant and the remaining private hovered in the air a ways away, weapons trained on Rainbow Dash’s location. The blue mare looked over at us, her face contorted in pain. Her eyes moved to the dead Enclave soldier, and I felt her surprise. I reached out my mind again, and found that now she was receptive.

Rainbow Dash.

Changeling. I’m sorry. She didn’t seem to care that I suddenly had access to her thoughts. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here. I need some help.

How many bullets ya’ got left? Hairpins asked.

One clip.

I glanced at the ground. My knife was halfway between Rainbow Dash and I. I started thinking of options.

There’s three of us and two of them...

But only two of us are any threat.

If ah jus’ had a gun...

Rainbow Dash started to loosen the straps on her battle saddle.

If I had my suit...

The Enclave soldiers moved before we could consider other options. Rainbow Dash rushed into the air, letting the battle saddle clatter to the ground. I jumped up as well, flapping with all my might toward the sergeant. Hairpins ran forward, scooping up the knife in her mouth before leaping toward the battle-saddle. Rainbow Dash had flown in the opposite direction from us, drawing the Enclave’s attention. I made it half-way to the sergeant before he noticed me. He turned in the air, bringing his weapons to bear on me, but I had enough velocity to make it inside of his range before he could fire. I saw Rainbow Dash change her trajectory and aim for the other soldier the moment before I crashed into him. The sergeant and I tumbled through the air. I fought to cling to him and grab at his wings while he tried to push me off and stab at me with his tail. I did not register the blows as I focused on disrupting his flight. We crashed into the ground and flew apart. I bounced once and crashed into a nearby rock, the wind leaving my chest.

I heard a burst of gunfire I sensed elation from Hairpins.

I gasped for breath, feeling like I was drowning. I felt blood seeping from my back and neck. The sergeant's tail had punched me several times, but not deeply. I watched helplessly as he rose from where he had landed. He staggered, but did not fall again. He swiveled his head, looking for where I had fallen. It seemed the growing darkness had obscured me. It bought me a second of time.

Hairpins...

Ah’m comin’!

“Fucking... bug...” I grabbed one of his gun barrels in my magic and jerked him off-balance, and he fell onto his side. I had bought another second.

“Fucking! Bug!” His rage was a boiling sea. In desperation I tried to drink it, but the power backfired, sending a wave of nausea through me. I fired a laser but it went wide, and pain shot through my horn as the foul energy left me. Whatever torrent Cadance had forced through me, it had not given me the same tolerance Fuagx must have acquired from years of leeching negative emotions.

The sergeant finally managed to stand, only to be slammed to the ground again, this time by Rainbow Dash. She rolled away, clearly as beaten as I. I could sense Hairpins nearing us. The rubble impeded her, but she was only moments away. Again I tried to rise to no avail.

“You... fucking... insolent bugs...” The sergeant rolled to his hooves, wings spread to balance himself. All I could do was hiss angrily. I needed his attention on me. Hairpins was almost in range—

Rainbow Dash rushed him, prancing on her three good legs. He pivoted, firing just a moment before she would have impacted and leaping backwards. The one bullet ripped through her chest, the other entered her mouth and blew out the back of her skull. She fell to the ground, dead.

“You annoying—” The sergeant’s comment was cut off by Hairpin’s shot. She pierced his right wing, and he cried out as he crashed to the ground besides Rainbow Dash. Another shot cut through his foreleg, and he curled up in pain.

“Well shit... ah’m out a’ bullets.”

Hairpins stood at the top of a small ridge of rubble. She tossed my knife down to me as I finally managed to stand, having carried it in her mouth even as she had fired her battle-saddle. I gripped it in my mouth and moved forward. I stood over the sergeant.

“You’ve only delayed the inevitable, bug. The Enclave will—”

I stabbed downwards, aiming for a weak point near the joints around his neck. He jerked once.

I fell back on my haunches. I stared at Rainbow Dash’s ruined form. Something about it felt fake, like her appearance had all been a hallucination. The sight of her corpse should have revolted me; saddened me; but again I only felt numb. The Crystal Heart was on the ground next to her, having spilled out when she had fallen. Hairpins trotted to my side, and sat with me. Now that the battle was over, she was crying.

“Why’m ah always th’ one t’ live? Ah been through th’ shit so many times, ah...”

I shook my head, not knowing what to say.

“Oh, Tumble... an’ Midnight too... it’s always th’ younger ones... ah feel like ah’m leechin’ everypony else’s life away...”

I put a hoof on her shoulder as we leaned on each other for support. I could barely see the bodies in front of me anymore. The daylight was almost gone.

Worker...?

Pitch? For a moment I was happy. Then a crushing despair gripped me. Pitch. I’m so sorry...

Worker, why? What—oh no—no!

I did not keep her from my mind. Midight’s death, and now Rainbow Dash’s, they both hit her at the same moment. I let her grief flood all of us. I felt Hairpins grip onto it, and we wept together in silence.

Pitch, I’m so sorry, there was nothing we could do—

No! No no no! Nononononononono—!

To my horror, I felt her grief grow into something worse. She was still in the tower ruins, working her way outside, but the revelation had stopped her dead in her tracks. Her mind whirled with memories: of watching Rainbow Dash as a foal, of wanting so badly to fly, of watching her brothers Yaw and Roll soar above her while she was stuck on the ground. Rainbow Dash had been the foundation for so much of her life before and during the war, and now here she was: unceremoniously dead, lost, and alone. Emotions spiraled into dark depths I had never seen before, and I felt her mind following.

Nonononononononono—!

I tried to reach out to her. I tried to bring her back from the edge. But I did not know what to do. I saw the structure of her thoughts disintegrating around me. The strings that had woven themselves into the tapestry of her being were fraying and unfurling into nothing. It was like watching the chaos of unity, but formed from only one splintering mind. I was appalled. This was not a melt down; this was not grief; this was Pitch’s obliteration.

I realized what I was seeing: she was becoming a zombie. This last straw had broken her.

Pitch? Pitch!? Hairpins and I cried out for her. But I could only sense the chaos. Sadness and rage, unfocused. A brilliant machine reduced to molten slag. Pitch!? I felt sick to my stomach.

My child... let me... try...

I sensed what Chrysalis wanted to do. She pushed into my mind. I let her. I let her fall past me, out of her dying body and into Pitch’s empty husk. I could not stop myself. I had no way to sense her true intentions, but I had no other hope but to let her in and trust her.

She could have taken over the body, as she had done with the alicorn. She could have used that broken chaos to build herself a new housing, and eked out some life where she might have earned my forgiveness. But she did not. I felt her magic work its way through Pitch. I felt her pick up the threads of memory and emotion and tie them back together. It was a slow process, and her being was fading even now. Without a body to retreat to, each piece she rebuilt pushed her that much farther out of the mental space she was occupying.

I reached out to help her. I followed what she did, and copied her steps. I found myself growing stronger each moment, more confident in my motions. Soon she was only guiding me. The structure grew, and then I was only helping it as it reformed. Pitch’s mind blinked back into existence, and the remaining fibers snapped into place. We had acted in time.

Ah, Worker, I... oh, it’s so horrible... I had hoped I was done with such tragedy in my life...

I breathed a sigh of relief. We were still in pain. Our sadness was immense. But we were stable. Pitch was back. Hairpins had survived. Midnight had not died in vain.

Thank you, mother, I thought.

No response came. I reached out as far as I could, but her mind was gone. I knew I should not have expected any differently. There was no space for her left. The alicorn had died the moment she had left it, and just as a body could not go help but wither without a mind, how could a mind persist without a body?

I opened my eyes to look up at the sky. It was night now, the first stars were starting to shine through the dark blue blanket above. At my feet the Crystal Heart was glowing gently. I felt a warm energy coming off of it.

It is an amplifier. It takes love and makes it stronger.

Love. Midnight’ last gift to me; to us. Genuine, and strong enough to kick-start the power of the Crystal Heart. I sighed, and found I had yet more tears to shed.

We wept for all we had lost until the stars faded into the dawn’s light.

* * * * *

It has been a long time since that night. I did not count the days, or the weeks, but the ice around us is gone now, and flowers bloom in grass that has overtaken the city streets.

We buried the bodies of Midnight, Chrysalis, and Rainbow Dash at the edge of the mountains, next to the resting place of my nameless sibling from so long ago. We dug them a grave as well. For markers, we used chunks of splintered crystal: blue sapphire, goldstone, opal, and Malachite. I had lain the statuettes with Rainbow Dash, and set her broken helmet on top of her marker. I found an old chisel the month before last, and have since been practicing making engravings. Once I feel confident enough I will engrave their names and their likenesses, so that everyone who finds them might know who they were. It is the least I can do for Midnight.

The enclave soldiers we buried nearby after stripping their armor. We used only black stone from the collapsed castle to mark them, and I have already given them their resting names: four Privates, and one Sergeant, all Enclave.

The corpses of the crystal ponies had ended up throughout the castle ruins. Those that had fallen straight into the crater below the tower had been the easiest to take care of: we simply burned them after sealing the hole above with a tarp. The rest we had mopped up from the stories above. It was sickening work, and I never quite grew numb to the sight of so much meat splattered onto rock. We only managed to finish cleaning in the past week, and in the end I simply scoured the rotting dregs from the rock with my laser; there was simply too little left to drag anywhere for burning.

The stench of rot and char will probably linger for months, if not years. I cleaned out what I could of the higher levels (or what remained of them). But it is impossible to assure we have removed every trace, and the tower’s collapse has sealed off certain sections that would have otherwise survived the collapse.

Pitch has spent as much of her time collecting as she has cleaning. The books that had survived so perfectly in the library are now at great risk. Whatever magic might have protected them is gone. We have decided the best place to store them is underground. Midnight's hunch had been right: the Empire had maintained stores of food and water. They were scattered throughout the city, under trap doors that lead to a large labyrinth of bunkers. The space meant for crystal ponies to take shelter in now housed their history, and the grains and preserves they had left could have fed a small town for centuries. They still might, if we are successful.

* * * * *

“Thanks for everything,” I said to Hairpins.

Pitch and I stood before her at the edge of the mountains, the graves of our comrades a few paces away. The entrance to the caves was just behind her. The day was bright and cloudless. Even the storm at the mountain’s peak seemed to be calm this morning.

“Ah, it’s nothin’. Ah’m jus’ glad ah’ve made up fer all th’ harm ah’ve caused ya’.” She smiled at me. I smiled back, drinking in her love. I had still yet to feel the claws of hunger return to my mind. Though we had endured deep loss, we had borne it together. Our friendship had only grown since that day, and I had never run short on energy. They both knew I drank from them, but their love was given, and so long as we remained friends it would be inexhaustible.

“Oh, do be safe,” Pitch said, stepping forward to give Hairpins a parting hug. “Are you absolutely sure I shouldn’t come with you? One pony alone is still dangerous.”

We had, during the past two weeks, slowly started to map out the caverns that had thus far trapped us here. I had wandered through that darkness, using the other’s minds as a beacon to find my way back, until I had finally found a connection to the path we had been on before the cavern collapsed around us. I had found another system of caves on the far side of the lake, and one off-shoot that slowly spiraled upwards. At its end I had found a cavern with our markings burned into the rock. Hairpins had seen the image in my mind, and was confident she could make the rest of the journey from there.

“Ah’ll be fine, ah swear. Even if they do recognize me, ah still got th’ best chance a’ gettin’ through to ‘em. They either gotta b’lieve ah somehow survived in th’ frozen wilderness fer months, or that ah really did find a connection. An’ ah guarantee ah’m a better shot than anypony they’ve got. ‘S not like they get any action up in these parts, hah!” She grinned at us, and with a final bow trotted off into the darkness.

She was not truly gone, and our mental link would last at least until she reached Snowbite, so this goodbye was more of formality. It would not be until she crossed the sea again that she would truly leave us.

“Well, back to work I guess,” Pitch said a moment later. I nodded. She rarely stopped moving these days. She did not need sleep or sustenance, but still her progress on moving the library underground had been slow. I spent my time dismantling the tower, stone by stone, rock by rock. I did not intend to bring down the remainder, but any loose material or completely ruined sections would, eventually, be cleared away. When I was done only the first three stories or so would still remain. My magic was strong, and on a good day I could cut out and carry away almost a room’s worth of material. I had nowhere to put it in particular, so I had simply started dumping it into the crater below the tower. The space was almost full now.

The goal of Hairpin’s journey—our goal—was to find more ponies willing to help rebuild. Her first stop was Snowbite. It was the most promising place to start looking, as they already knew about the Empire and would only need to be convinced that the way in had been found. If that proved successful, she would escort them back, then return to the town and wait for Pipsqueak’s ship. Then she would be on her own, gathering recruits who wanted a reprieve from the misery of the Wasteland. We had decided that traveling alone was our best chance of making restoration a success: Unity had no grudge against her, the Steel Rangers and the Enclave would not take special interest in her, and she had the most experience surviving alone. She knew how to make friends fast.

Meanwhile, we would work. The underground bunker could serve as lodging for hundreds of ponies, but the seeds we had found in storage would need to be planted soon and tended to. Additional infrastructure would also need to be built: wells, irrigation channels, bath houses, sewage systems, forges, tailors—all the basic necessities of comfort and protection. Pitch and I were already working on a plan; all we needed was more horsepower to get it done. We would also need to start mining the rubble and mountainside for usable ore—we were severely lacking in bullets and guns. The Enclave had not sent more soldiers to investigate since that last deadly patrol. I did not know why they would have ignored the disappearance of one of their squads, but I did not question our luck. I knew it would run out eventually.

I took in a deep breath, and let it out. Every time I thought about how much work was still to be done it felt overwhelming, but each time I reflected on how much we had accomplished so far I grew hopeful. It could be done. Given enough time and effort, we could carve out our own paradise here. And we could share it with any who were willing to help.

I turned to follow Pitch. My eye caught the glint of metal, far off to my left. I tilted my head, curious, and trotted over to investigate. I let out a short burst of laughter when I saw what it was: a rusted spritebot. It must have been buried under the snow until the recent melt. I picked it up in my magic and stowed it in my saddlebags. I could probably turn it into a heater, or maybe a radio if enough of it was intact.

I galloped back toward the center of the city, full of nervous energy. We had been planning for Hairpin’s departure for the past week, but it still felt somewhat surreal. I made a note to practice a teleportation spell. If I had enough energy, perhaps distance wouldn’t be an issue and I could join her in a bind...

I shook my head. One thing at a time. I reached the center of the city. Today I wanted to finish cleaning up a twisted section of the upper ruins. I believed it would be enough to finish filling in the crater. Tomorrow I would start building a tiller for the northern fields, which Pitch said would be the best place to start our farmland.

I flew up, passing the balcony where Cadance had stood for so long. Although her bedchamber had survived, the hallway which it connected to had collapsed completely, and I had not yet started to clear it. The Crystal Heart hovered on a pillar where the bed used to be, still glowing gently. I had no idea if it’s power had done anything to the greater Equestira. Had our efforts changed anything? Or was its power truly limited to the Empire alone? I thought briefly of trying to contact Spike, but I had no idea if I could. It would be a challenge enough to build a radio, even with Pitch’s help.

A pang of sadness passed through my chest. I still thought of Midnight at least once a day, and every time I glanced upon the Heart. Her friendship had meant the world to me. I would never stop regretting that I couldn’t save her. She would have been ecstatic to see what we were building.

I hovered at the top of the castle ruins, thinking of which section I would cut away at today. I gave a shout of surprise as a sharp buzzing sound emanated from my saddlebags. I frowned and pulled out the spritebot, levitating it before me. It buzzed again, and sparked to life.

A voice I had never heard before spoke:

“Friends, ponies, rejoice! Although the world about you is bleak, scarred and poisoned by the war of honorless, thoughtless, inferior ponies of the past, we do not have to live in the shadow of their greed and wickedness. Together, we can raise Equestria back to its former beauty! Together, we can build a new kingdom where all live together in perfect unity! It’s already happening, my good ponies. Already, the foundation for a new and wonderful age is being built. Yes, it’s hard work, but don’t we owe it to ourselves, and to future generations of ponies, to be better? No, to be the best we can possibly be? I’m telling you now, as your friend, as your leader, that we can. We must. And we WILL!”

The spritebot gave one final wheeze and sputtered out, a puff of smoke rising from its belly. I shook my head, sighing. Another empire-builder. Another would-be king. I did not know who it was, or who they claimed to lead, but I decided not to worry about it. If they reached me, I would deal with them. Until then I would focus on building a home for Pitch, Hairpins, and I; and all who would join us.

I would not rebuild the castle, nor erect walls, nor carve new mazes. I did not wish to build another Empire. I would build my hive of friendship, one pony at a time. I would build a family. I would love and be loved, and wait for the Wasteland to join me. I stowed the dead spritebot and set to work.

For though war never changes, it is we who change, and we may always change for the better.

Footnote: Level up! (Max Level)
Telekinesis (Level 2) - You’re getting better. Slowly. You can now lift Medium objects with your magic. +1 to Big Guns.
Quest Perk: Busy as a Bee - You’ve taken on more jobs than most ponies can bear, but you’re up to the task. +5 to Repair skill.
Global Perk: The Crystal Heart - Denizens of Equestria with positive karma receive a +1 on all Luck rolls.

Epilogue

From The Wasteland Survival Guide

Changelings*

Changelings. They are always hungry. If you learn nothing else from me, learn that. But, you ask, what is a Changeling? What do they eat? What do they look like? The answers are simple: They are parasites. They eat our emotions.

They can look like us. Any of us. But they don’t know what we know. To expose them, catch them in a lie or contradiction. What you do with them after is up to you.

They are a rare sight these days. Before the war, they almost conquered Canterlot, and since the war they almost went extinct. I thought they had gone extinct, actually! So be careful, but don’t get paranoid. They are a threat, but rarely are they deadly. They feed on our emotions; happiness; love; not our bodies. But what is a pony without those good feelings? They are rare enough as it is, these days. Don’t let your fleeting moments of happiness be stolen away.

Don’t become just another hungry monster in the Wasteland.

*This new section was made possible by the contributions of Seel Ranger Kernel and her associate, Surprise.

Author's Note

Well, after seven years and just over 200,000 words, it's finally done. I know I wrote this slowly, and I am incredibly grateful to everyone who has read through to this point, especially those who have stuck with me throughout all these years. Thank you for reading, and I hope you have enjoyed the journey.

If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to post them. I will try to answer whatever I can. I appreciate all the feedback I get, even if I don't always reply to everyone. You're all incredible. :)

I would like to give one last thank you to KKat, as well as all the other FO:E fic writers who contributed to my early inspiration for this story.

As for me, I haven't been active in this fandom for quite a while now, outside of this story and my original plot notes. Details and surviving characters changed quite a bit from the plans I originally had, but the broad flow of the story is basically the same as I had written down back in 2013. This is all to say that I am done writing for the MLP fandom in general. I finished this last project, and I've simply moved on to other interests. I might, at some point, go through this monster and make edits/clean things up, but that won't be for a long while, if ever.

HOWEVER, if you have enjoyed my writing, and you do want something more from me, I have self-published an original sci-fi book, which can be found on Amazon in both ebook and paperback: [https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BGDVSGSX]Thalci Varner and the Red Children of Paradise. Although it is much shorter than this fic, the writing is more refined, and I was able to make a much more cohesive work (at least in my opinion). Plus I also have a sequel planned, so there's more to look forward to!

Regardless, I hope you are all staying safe during this trying time, and keeping your friendships strong. Thanks again!

Prologue

War. War changes everything. It affects everyone. Those who are not soldiers fight to supply them. Those who remember peace kill to find it again. Those who lead the charge die in the crossfire. Moral or physical, the sacrifice is the same, and everyone must make it. In war, every foe vanquished is a friend lost; a lover taken; a family torn. Every nation that falls is a people destroyed, and at the end of the war between Ponies and Zebras the people of Equestria were nearly annihilated. The survivors retreated into their Stables, condemned to eke out an existence in twisted societies, while outside a nuclear winter dragged on throughout decades. Not all people were so lucky.

For the Changeling Empire, the war spelled out a more certain death and doom than for any of the ponies caught in the balefire. All love had been drained from the world, and so, faced with extinction, they vanished to places unknown. Now, a lone worker has awoken, confused and alone, to try and find love in a land filled with hate...

Fallout: Equestria - Change