1: Prologue

        A bullet pinged off of the rusted off car you were hiding behind. The wind picked up and threw the desert sand everywhere.

        “Get out here boy! We’ll make ‘ur death quick,” a bandit said in a thick southern accent.

        Like that ever actually works, you popped up and let off a couple shots into the direction they were coming from, but with the sand everywhere, you couldn't see too well. You were sure you didn't actually hit anything.

        “All we want is ‘ur stuff, we don't need none of ‘ur hassle,” he tried to haggle with you. This was the third time this week you’ve woken up to bandits trying to rob your sleeping figure. You’d think they'd be smart enough to see if you were actually dead or just asleep. You think you’d be smart enough to stop sleeping where they could find you.

        You pop up, let out a couple more shots and yell out, “I ain't givin you shit.” Sure, you could actually give it to them, but knowing the bandits, they'd just kill you afterwards anyway. It was too late for negotiating anyway, you put three bullets in the guy frisking you out of your slumber before running off.

        A barrage of pings and whizzes around you forced you back to the cover of the old car. Its not like you were going to hit anything in this pseudo sand storm anyway.

        You think there were three of them, not counting the dead one, at least, that's what you judged by the number of shots coming in your direction.

        “Get out here and fight us like a man!” the bandit yelled at you. Judging by the volume of his voice, he was getting closer.

        You popped up again and let out a couple of shots at the silhouette making its way through the sand. “Fuck off!” you told them.

        You got out another magazine to replace the one you just emptied when a series of erratic giggles erupted from your left. A dirty looking bandit without a shirt and a maniacal grin popped up and lunged at you with a rusty knife as soon as you noticed him.

        You caught his knife wielding hand just before it entered you, flipping him over your shoulder. With him on his back you attempted to fight him for the knife, but his erratic movements made grabbing it difficult. You sat there struggling for a moment before the rest of the bandits decided to join the party.

        “I'm gonna’ rip you apart!” one said as he rounded the corner of the car. You heard his voice from behind you and snapped the bandit underneath you to ontop of you. The other one proceeded to unload the magazine on his beat up smg into his buddy. Luckily none of it got through to you.

        You pulled out your 1911 and put three shots in his chest, watching him grip the wounds before falling to the ground.

        The wind was really picking up now, turning a bit of sandy haze into a full blown sand storm. You pushed the bloody bandit away from you before running off into the cover of the storm away from the bandits.

        “George? Did you get ‘em?” You heard as you ran, you didn't want to stick around for them finding the two bodies with you between them.

        You ran in the general direction you thought might be the Everfree forest. It was only just now morning. You had plenty of time to get to your next destination if you didn't run into any more touchy bandits.

                ___________________________________________________________

        The wind blew through your hair as you walked out of the damp everfree forest into another clearing. You looked up and gave your surroundings a thought for the first time in hours.

        Just another windy day in the wasteland.

        Every clearing you walked through was unnecessarily windy now, from the dusty flatland of the deserts, to the outer regions of the forgotten cities, with the dark creep of decay they all shared the same thing, and this place was no different.

        It was just another windy day.

        You stepped over a corpse that was charred and rotted beyond recognition, paying no mind to it, after all, the clearing was covered with them. Rusted machines of war and bodies of their operators and support littered the clearing. A small skirmishes like this were found in random places just about all over the country, for now, you'd just rather not think about it.

        Stepping over dead of all kinds you couldn't help it though. Bodies lay half rotted, some with bullet holes littering their appearance, others with the black smear of an explosion covering a portion of their tattered body, and some didn't even lay fully in one piece. Shriveled limbs and entrails covered certain portions of the ground as you continued your path through the clearing. Poor kids didn't even know what they were getting into when they signed up. Yet here they are anyway, in this forgotten battlefield, all these souls who died painfully and full of anguish in the seemingly peaceful forest clearing.

        Focusing out of your thoughts and back into the world before you, the smell of ash and rusted metal filled the air you walked through, and you take a larger step to make your way over a large piece of shrapnel. Doing so causes the rifle on your back to clank against your canteen, reminding you of your dry mouth. You didn't really care at the moment. You'd find water, you always did. Dying of dehydration would be the last thing that would get you out here. Though it was still high on the list, you decided to ignore it until you reached your current destination.

        You had been to many different cities and settlements, ranging from the massive war torn city of fillydelphia, to the smallest village that didn't even have a name. Every one of them succumbed to the curse of the wasteland, little supplies and plentiful armaments drove a seemingly peaceful people to become bandits and thieves, with the rest struggling to simply exist. All you wanted now was a place to call home, and maybe even someone you could actually call a friend.

        Maybe this place will be different, you thought. Your newest destination was the town of Ponyville. All of the people you've talked to who have been from there have said good things about it, hopefully that lasted through the war. You knew that was a far cry from the more likely truth, but without a purpose, you didn't even see the point of living anymore.

        In your thoughtful stupor, you forgot to carefully inspect the ground for debri. Catching your foot into something that didn't quite want to let go, you fall forward. Trying to catch yourself you put your hand out to the lump of metal that used to be a jeep of some kind. You find grip on a latch that betrays you by opening the door and spinning you around to fall on your back, but something seems to have fallen out of the vehicle with you. Opening your eyes you find the smiling face of the decayed driver, seemingly holding you down with its decayed limbs.

        You make a mad scramble to get the corpse off of you and let out a less than manly scream at the situation. After you get rid of the sudden deathly embrace you sit up and attempt to catch your breath. As desensitized as you were, that didn't stop you from having a bit of a panic attack. From an outside source that may have looked hilarious, but you weren't laughing. You looked up to the sky to find Celestia’s sun hanging low in the sky, signifying the coming night, and your growing need for shelter.

        The realization was met by a distant howl, followed by sinister replies from what may be lurking in the forest. You hop to your feet and quickly search for any viable shelter. Fowl things lurk this forest at night, searching for any food they may find, or so the campfire stories from vagabonds and passersby tell you. You've met man made monstrosities, you didn't want to meet the natural ones, not this night anyway.

        Skimming across the landscape you find a tank that only looks to have lost its tread, the hatch is even open, seemingly inviting you. You decided to take it as a blessing and stride towards the metal behemoth, careful of the trip hazards this time.

        Climbing up the tank you find that one of its occupants was not so lucky, and seems to have been at the wrong end of a .45, you're thankful its been long enough that the smell of death has mostly disappeared. You drag the would be room mate out of the cabin of the tank and crawl into it, closing the hatch behind you. You find the most comfortable spot you can, the drivers chair, which still leaves much to be desired and attempt to drift off to sleep with the hopes of a bright new town in your future. You pull the piece of canvas you use as a duster over you and hope for a restful nights sleep.

        But things are never that simple, are they?

        No matter how you evade your past in your conscious mind, the memories always flood back in your sleep. Forcing you to relive events that you'd rather repress. It’s always about the war. You can never escape your past, no matter how hard you try.

        You pray that Luna will be your salvation this night, but wishful thinking hasn't gotten you very far before, so you hunker down and attempt to rest through it anyway.

        You stare out of the drivers peep-hole into the darkening sky, you clear your mind to attempt to sleep through the dangerous night.

                (..................................................................................................)

        You get off the train and stride into the Baltimare train station. You adjust the package of masterfully crafted rifle parts that your father crafted to be more comfortable in your backpack.

        You lived an easy life in Dodge Junction as a gunsmiths apprentice, hoping to follow one day in your fathers footsteps as the best damn gunsmith in equestria, or at least as far as you were concerned. You were happy with the life in Dodge, you had a lot of good people you could consider friends, even a crush that everyone said was way too old for you, but that didn't stop you from volunteering at her cherry farm from time to time, just to be able to see her. You still couldn't figure out for the life of you why Mrs. Jubilee didn't have a husband, though you planned to fill that void if you got your way.

        You were always your Dad’s delivery boy, you always insisted to just send it in the mail, but he always said,“That ain’t how we do things son, the best product deserves the best service, and I'll be damned if some second rate mail service loses my pride and joy.” Your father was a hard man, but you knew he cared for you every step of the way. Your mother died giving birth to you, but your father loved you the all the same, and never remarried either, so you two were as close as you could be.

        You stride up to the ticket booth, only having an address, and never being to the city before, had to ask for directions, as much as you resented the Idea. The boy in the ticket booth gave you a map with the street and apartment circled, you gave him a couple of dollars for his trouble and tipped your stetson to him, like a true southern gentleman.

        You've been to a lot of different cities, each of them was as awe-inspiring as the last. The marvelous architecture and massive buildings always caught your eye, and it was interesting to see all the new technology that was being pumped out of the nearby factories that Dodge didn't have the good grace to see yet. Equestria was being industrialized in your time and you loved it, the machinery and intricacy of all the new gadgets always caught your eye. You knew that a lot of countries were following Equestria in suit for this. All of the more advanced civilizations wanted to get in on the new technology. Zebras, Griffins, and Diamond dogs all wanted in on the newfound technology. The only problem was, while the humans of Equestria lacked the useful physical traits that blessed the other races, they more than made up for it in magic, which ran all of the machinery, which became a problem for the other races who didn't have these abilities, except for the zebras, the had some weird alchemy that worked wonders. You remember something about a bunch of unsatisfactory trade attempts with the Griffins for gems, the only thing that already had stored magic in it upon creation, with them being the closest to Equestria. You also remember all the nonsense they tried to use in its place, like natural gas and nuclear energy, what a load of bad ideas, using something that can explode for energy. It didn't really matter to you, last you heard, the Griffins had ceased contact, so it wasn't really a problem any more.

        After flipping the map around a couple of times, and doubling back a couple of blocks, you finally arrived at the correct apartment, and delivered the package to the correct door number. You didn't get much more than an “Oh, thank you...” and the right payment, which is different from the way your town would do it, but everything was always weird in these big cities, so you didn't pay it much mind.

        Leaving the apartment, you checked the time. It was only around noon, and your train didn't leave to go back home until tomorrow morning. You didn't really feel like finding a hotel right now, so you looked to your map for the nearest bar. You weren't of age yet, but that isn't what your five o’clock shadow said. You've gotten by most of the time, and you were just trying to pass the time anyway. Maybe you could even find a couple of city girls to charm, they always liked cowboy demeanor.

        You push the door open to find the entirety of the bar staring at the television screen mounted over the bar, it was the news, but you didn't really pay attention, you just kind of tuned it out as you walked up to the bar and took a place on the stool in front of the bartender who had his eyes glued to the screen with an incredulous look.

        “Howdy barkeep, you mind sendin’ somethin’ my way?” You let out in your southern drawl. It was always there to keep up appearances, but you never really stuck to it that much.

        “Have you...seen the news kid?” Shit, you thought you were busted on your age, but look up to the T.V. anyway.

        You see the title BREAKING NEWS above a woman who looked dead serious and a little bit trussed up. You listen in to what shes saying.

        ....The nation watches in shock, as the town of Dodge junction lays in ashes today from an assault by the Griffin Empire. The army came through the cover of night and attacked around mid-morning, leaving no survivors and burning the entire town to the ground.  Aerial reconnaissance has discovered all the citizens to either by dead or being executed by the unexpected military force. There has been no word from the Princesses on the state of affairs, whether this is a singled out terrorist attack or not, but after seeing the size of the force and the armaments, I believe this is nothing short than an act of war...

You sit there in shock and denial. You had just left this morning, there was no Griffin army, no impromptu massacre. The television panned to shots of the burned town from a helicopters view. There was almost nothing left, the people who you knew and loved lay dead in the streets, Griffins walking over them. You could even make out your house, or what was left of it, nothing lay standing. You didn't know why they would do something like this, why they would go to such an extreme. You knew the were warriors, but they hadn't been at war for many decades. Why now, why dodge?

        You didn't know what to do. You were filled with rage that you couldn't take out on anything. A sadness came over you that you couldn't share with anyone. You just stare at the table, as the bartender gave you a bottle with pitying eyes.

        You spent the next couple of days in a haze, waking up anywhere from an alley to a jail cell, getting drunk and starting fights, passing out, rinse and repeat. You didn't know what else to do except drown your sorrows, hoping it killed you. You didn't have a home to go back to, no one even knew your name anymore. Everybody you cared for was dead.

        Walking through the city in your matted clothes and alcohol on your breath, you look up to find a building you hadn't seen before. You read the big bold leaders adorned with the Equestrian flag.

RECRUITMENT OFFCE

        You dropped the bottle you were holding like a bum and march into the building with a newfound purpose, after signing some papers you demanded a spot on the frontlines to be the first to get at those Griffins. The recruiter promised he’d give you just that. After a short bus ride to another city, you went through two weeks of monotonous basic training that taught you everything they thought you would need to know on the battlefield. You go through most of it in a determined haze, just ready to get your revenge.

        On the last day of training, they give you a rifle, a backpack, and put you on a plane headed for the frontlines.

                (..............................................................................................................)

        You wake up with the sun cascading onto you from the peep hole on the tank, pushing you to open your eyes. You wake up with full recollection of the dream you just had. You've had it before, it was the most mild one, the beginning, you hated having to relive hearing the news, but it'd been so long that now it really didn't matter.

        You knew what happened next all too well. The memories after that just got darker and more disturbing. Covered in the screams of the dying and the blood soaked moments of sin. You couldn't hide from it, you couldn't run away. Death would be no escape from what you've seen, from what you've done. Every time a memory comes to you, you just push it away, not wanting to suffer through it again, but knowing it will come in a dream to you anyway.

        You gave a shudder to the thought, shifting around in the uncomfortable seat. You remember the first time you saw a griffin. With her beautiful brown and white wings, and white feathers adorning parts of her body, you thought she was an angel. Not so much anymore.

        Eventually, the Princesses declared total war on the Empire, each side giving every resource at their disposal towards the war effort. With new technology being used every battle, and new monstrosities being created from experiments to make super soldiers, the battles just got longer, more deadly, and exponentially more brutal. The tools of war new no retribution to their sin. Chemical and biological warfare, espionage, and terrorism were common from both ends of the war. You don't know how or why the Princesses could condone such a thing. It didn't matter now though, you didn't even know if they were even still alive, let alone making any big decisions like that.

        The disease and destruction wiped both countries almost clean of their forms of life, eventually the plague got into settlements from the battlefields and turned the population from both countries, as far as you know, to more dead than living. You don't know which side started the plague, but you know that eventually both sides were attempting to use it, with dire consequences.

        There was no treaty made, no one surrendered, yet the war ended. Both sides had exhausted all means to fight, there was almost no one left from the plague and destruction that swept through the lands, none who wanted to continue the fight anyway. Any progress made by the two countries was halted and lost to time. Besides the remnants, socially and technologically the population was thrown back almost 100 years. Some towns were wiped off the map, while others were reduced to torn down buildings filled with thieves and beggars who made it through the plague, but were barely making it through the present. The people of a once proud country reduced to murderers who would kill you over a spoiled can of beans. You know from experience, you've had to kill more of your own fellow countrymen than you'd like to count.

        It had been three years since the war “ended”. Now you've spent the last year or so looking for a place to call home. A place you might be able to rebuild a decent life. Or at least a place where someone won't try to stab you for a pair of torn work gloves.

        You just wanted a life like it was, even though you knew you could never go back, body or mind. Just some Peace that you may never find.

        The tank groans ominously with the low sound of shifting metal under its own weight. You take this as a signal to begin your journey for the day. You climb out of the tank and stand on the turret, stretching for a moment in the morning sun. You idly rub a spot on your back where the drivers seat just didn't want to conform to you and then jump off of the tank.

        With a quick reorientation against the direction of the rising sun, and the direction you know that ponyville is, you stride off back into the dark everfree forest to get to your destination.

        You hated traveling through the pseudo jungle, vines and thorns of all sizes obstructed your path, only to be interrupted by the occasional spot of dead leaves. The sun is all but absorbed by the canopy of trees above, leaving the ground level dark as night and filled with shadows.

        While walking, your stomach interrupts you with a loud growl. Forget the perfect home, I’d settle for a pack of five year old crackers and a dirty water bottle from some post-apocalyptic shack store-wannabe, you thought as you brought a hand up to your stomach to attempt to reassure it sustenance is not far off. After a couple hours of walking through the dank jungle, you see a break in the treeline and promptly pick up your pace, wanting to leave your current wretched surroundings behind. It seemed almost like the light at the end of the tunnel, the single bastion of hope in the dark unforgiving forest environment.

        You pushed onwards into the fields, excited and terrified of what you might find over the tallest hill obscuring the valley. Walking through the peaceful meadow, you make your way up the hill, with one last powerful step you reach the crest of the hilltop and gaze out into the valley below.