In my line of work, when one was faced with an unknown, due its hazardous nature, one was taught to 'shoot first, and ask questions later'. I had no weapon, so the first thing I did...

I jerked my right hand up at the creature, fingers curling into a fist. I felt a solid impact as my bludgeon of a fist impacted the side of the thing's head, and following the momentum of the punch, I leaned upwards. With my left hand, I reached behind my head, to my neck, and grabbed the cover of my adaptive helmet, pulling the face-mask over my head as fast as I could. As I flipped myself over to the far side of the pod, I shot a glance in the directions of the group of... horses..? And I drew my right hand back to the side holster I always wore. With my left, I tapped the side of my helmet, activating the augmented reality, heads-up-display, information gatherer, active projection devices, and everything else in the package. The HUD pulsed once, and I could see the last known locations and projected movements of the creatures, as well as the ammo counter of my now drawn side-arm and mag-rifle resting on my back in addition to my armor status and estimated body condition.

My back fell against the pod as I crouched behind it for cover. I spun the pistol in my hand around the trigger guard, inspecting it for damage, as I felt the last vestiges of cryo-strain leave my body. After a deep breath, I called out to the technicolor equines on the other side of the pod.

"What the fuck are you, and where the god-damned world am I?" I was never one to cuss, but the confusion and panic of being woken up from cryo, after the end of the world by nuclear winter, by strange, as far as I could tell, equine creatures that seemed intelligent, was probably getting to me. My hands tightened on the pistol, the familiar groves where my fingers still fit doing miracles to my state of mind, calming me down and hardening my thoughts. The feeling was therapeutic.

Another deep breath, and I turned around, kneeling behind the pod, arm braced on it, pistol and gaze towards the creatures.

They hadn't moved. So this projected movement thing didn't work very well. Or maybe they were as shocked as I was, and the augmented reality didn't catch that. None of them seemed to have any indication of advanced technology on them, nor did they wear any clothes. They must be relatively un-advanced. The one I had punched was a few steps back from where I hit it, and it was on its haunches, a hoof up to its muzzle. Its eyes were wide in pain, as well as shock and fear. It had a horn in the center of its forehead, and it was mint-green. On its side, or to be anatomically accurate, flank, was the tattoo of some sort of string instrument, like a harp or something. I was woken from cryo-sleep by a technicolor unicorn then? I don't remember seeing anything remotely like this on earth. It must have been something new from the radioactive fallout. And on that note, its species must have become dominant, as there were more horse-things behind it, watching me with shock and awe.

Something moved suddenly, and I redirected my aim to it, pulling the trigger of my gun twice or thrice, not seeing my entire target. The bullets would have probably eviscerated the purple unicorn who made the movement, had it not been for the safety on my gun being on.

Cursing for my rookie mistake, I flipped my thumb back up, tapping the safety, and I returned my aim to the purple one. Its horn lit up, and a sound passed through the air, a high-pitched noise, like the sound of a building charge. Knowing the sound of something being readied for discharge, I dived to the side, hoping to avoid what the creature was about to fire. I got lucky, and a beam of purple light passed over my old spot, right where my chest would have been.

Finishing my roll and dropping to my knees, I pulled off two shots in quick, succession, keeping close eye on my ammo counter and the target in my sights. Two thunderclaps later, two orange lines appeared on my augmented reality, tracing my bullet paths. My first shot went wide, bouncing off the wall somewhere, as indicated by my HUD. My second shot, however, pinged off the horn of the unicorn, deflected by it. Had my aim been a few inches lower, the creature would have a hole in its head. My augmented reality flashed information to me. The horn was obviously strong enough to deflect a gunshot, and it seemed to be sensitive to the creature, as it was now on the ground, incapacitated.

I redirected my aim around to the still-stunned creatures, obviously not accustomed to combat or anything remotely like it, and shouted again. "Answer my damn question!" I realized, after the first traces of panic left me, that I may or may not be over-reacting. Then, quieter, I spoke to them. "Where am I? Please tell me." It helped to be the one holding the gun, but I was seriously doubting they spoke English, let alone anything remotely like human speech.

And I was proven wrong, when one stuttered out something indistinguishable, but clearly in my own tongue.

"What?" I questioned, the previous statement lost in the lack of clarity in the creature's speech.

"D-don't h-h-hurt us."

My mind instantly left the place, thinking back to Earth. I was always good with kids, back before I was a soldier. The creature's voice sounded surprisingly like a little girl's. This could really be its voice, or it could be some sort of devious distracting or debilitating predatory adaptation.

I lowered my sidearm, body still tensed for action, adrenaline beginning to wear off. "Where. Am. I?" I spoke slowly and quietly, trying not to scare the thing earlier. Yeah, I definitely overreacted. Two creatures incapacitated, one nursing a darkening patch on its face, and the other in the fetal position, hit with a high-velocity projectile in what was probably the sensitive equivalent of a guy's... well, you know.

"I won't attack anymore, unless you do. Will you PLEASE, for heaven's sake, tell me where I am?" This was getting tiring. These creatures should know better than annoy a highly trained killer with a gun.

One spoke up, the same as before. "You're i-in Equestria, in an a-archaeological dig site of the o-old b-biped, your, civilization."

My ears perked up. Archaeological dig site? We're history now? It was like just yesterday when human civilization was at its pinnacle. I was hit by a wave of fear. The great human race, reduced to 'old biped'? It was not possible. After all, I survived. Some others must have too. I needed to know, and there was one very valid, direct source of information I could use.

I moved back over to the cryo pod, making sure to watch the horses. Using my left hand, I tapped the command panel. It lit up, and a holo-panel lit up above it. Navigating through a menu and some sub-menus, I selected the information tab. A status report materialized in front of me, and through it, I could see the horses watching me, less with fear, and now with more intrigue. They seemed fascinated by the ease with which my fingers flew across the holographic surface. Attention reverting to the status report, I scanned it and other tidbits of information until I finally found what I was looking for.

The most recent 'freeze' had lasted -2375742 years. My brows furrowed for a moment, pondering the negative number where time should be, and then my augmented vision displayed two words. Integer overflow. Then it hit me, numbers never went negative when they shouldn't unless they were really big. My augmented vision began displaying calculations. The current model of the pod had a 32-bit counting system in its counter, which meant the largest number it could reach was... 4,294,967,295. The calculation scrolled for a moment, and then projected itself above the holo-panel.

My arms went limp and my legs turned to jelly. I fell to my knees, tears pooling at the edges of my eyes inside my helmet. I didn't believe it, I couldn't believe it. My mind reeled as it processed the number in front of me.

4,292,591,554. I had been asleep, no, frozen, for 4,292,591,554 years. I had lived, if one could call it that, for 4,292,591,554 years inside a pod. It had been 4,292,591,554 years since the humans initiated nuclear winter. The number burned itself into my mind. 4,292,591,554.

My mind could hardly comprehend the sheer size of the number indicated. It wasn't possible. I shouldn't be alive. How could I be over four billion years old? The cryo pod should have broken, or something! Something must have failed. This room should have collapsed. The world should have eaten me up. How in the damnedest form of hell could I still be alive? I very nearly put a hole in my head right there.

I was entering the first stages of a panic attack, and I knew it. The information was too much. I slapped my head, shutting the augmented reality device off, and pulled my helmet off, allowing the nano-plastics to hang loosely behind my head. My hands grew numb and I dropped my pistol on the floor, despair and shock overwhelming my senses. 4,292,591,554. How?

I buried my head in my hands, and I cried, for the world, for humanity, and for myself. I was alone.

Author's Note

If you wanted to know, the augmented reality is like having Splinter Cell's last known position, burning atium like a Seer misting or mistborn, the Halo HUD without the crosshair, and the Pip Boy's body thing, but smaller and with vitals next to it...
Or, imagine it how you will.

Tell me if I got that overflow calculation off...