An Unexpected Journey, Discovery of the Heart

by Final_Draft

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Human, Dark, Adventure
Length: 11595

An unlikely hero finds himself thrust into a new world, and in the middle of yet another war that's been raging for some time. His memories are fuzzy, but are they blocked by a supernatural force? Or something else entirely?

Dustin "Ghost" Echoes finds himself – somehow – tossed into another reality. Nothing makes sense, as he can't seem to recall the circumstances that led to him being there. Soon, however, he finds that he is being forced into another war in this new land. He didn't like being involved in the power struggle between the greedy NCR, the tyranny of Caesar's Legion, the enigmatic Mr. House, and that bastard Benny; and does not want to be involved in another war!

Even more distressing, is that Dustin can't seem to remember anything relating specifically to himself, the Mojave or his past. In a mental war between his old self and a developing new persona, Dustin feels like he needs to uncover his past – as it may be the key to returning home. The only problem? Shadows peer into his mind, images of past events that make him unsure whether or not he wants to recover from whatever robbed him of his memories.

So what's a deadly braincase to do?

A/N: Background image by CosmicUnicorn. He/she owns that background, but the horribly cropped courier is mine… -_-

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-08 20:11:02 UTC

That Same Old Song...

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

An Unexpected Journey, Discovery of the Heart

Written by: TOOS0BER

Chapter 1: That Same Old Song...

Heat.

Intense heat washed over my goatee-bearded face as I rested where – where was I?

I would have bolted upright at that thought, but my aching body just protested louder than my desire to rise. Leather armor with assassin plates (a 'gift' from a certain high-tech hellhole), while ideal at stopping most forms of minor attacks, wasnot good at keeping one cool. I was used to the blistering, cruel sun of the Mojave, and the daylight that poured on to my face felt similar enough.

Aside from that, my body felt like it had been pummeled with scores of ball-point hammers swung by Nightkin – those bastardshurt! I recalled that pain from infiltrating RobCo's launch facility some distance from my home, Novac.

That in mind, and my limited knowledge of medicine, I slowly tested my movements. Finger, palms and arms all moved with no problem – no broken bones there, good. I took a deep breath, expanding my chest as far as I dared. No hideous sting of pain assaulted me – good, no broken or bruised ribs.

A roaring lightning strike of sound caught my attention, and I opened my tired, old eyes at the sight.

And then they shot wide at the scene before me.

The perfect blue sky was marred by a whirling dark gray and purple vortex of cloud in the sky, an ominous red glow directly in the center. The sound I heard was one of the random, and frequent, energy bolts shooting off in random directions, emanating from the eerie threatening glow. Just beyond the fringes of the swirling cloud arms, space itself seemed to be distorted, as though I were looking through crystal clear water.

What the fuck? I blinked rapidly at the strange... whatever it was. I'd seen some fucked up, crazy shit in the Mojave that took two, sometimes three slices of cake – butthis took the whole damned pastry.

The anomaly gave a screeching metallic whine, and rapidly shrunk into itself, the angry storm cloud arms receding at demonic speeds to the red glow. It brightened with each passing second, and when all the cloud had disappeared, the hurricane thingexploded. I heard and saw the shock wave before my body, still prone on where I had landed, was assaulted by the whirling wind that was produced thereafter.

I shielded my face, which protected me from the minor debris that was swept up. The resulting whirlwind pelted me with dozens of small rocks and other random junk.

When I dared to peek out from my leather bound arms, the anomaly was gone – poof, like it never even existed. The groaning screech, likewise, disappeared and was replaced by a peaceful calmness.

I sighed in relief, grateful that I wasn't being blown up for the umpteenth time in my relatively short life. With the Wasteland, getting shot at, exploded on, or just in general getting massacred was a way of life.

I pushed myself up with my right arm, the muscles sore and protesting with the effort. I groaned in pain, but knew that I needed to figure out where I was. If I was lucky, I'd be near New Vegas or another peaceful wasteland settlement. If not... well... let's just say that I hate surprises.

The first apparent thing was that I wasn't in the dead and dreary wasteland anymore. I was surrounded by neatly groomed and trimmed plants. Some of them I recognized despite the fact that the only ones I'd seen were dead and defaced shrubs. Others I had absolutely no idea. Beyond that vegetation, I could make out white-washed and golden towers. At first I wondered if House had managed to paint and spruce up the entire Strip since I last visited.

I scoffed at my own thoughts. There wasno way that House and the Three Families could have possibly done that in less than a week – even if they managed to contract and/or conscript the whole populace of Vegas.

No, it was quite clear I wasn't in the Mojave any more.

The next apparent detail was one I had made myself. Just beyond my black-booted feet was a gouging dirt trail, the colorful grass and trees bent apart and obliterated. After a moment of consideration, the perfectly straight trail pointed in the exact same direction as that mysterious anomaly that vanished just moments ago.

It was still too early to tell... but did I possibly do that?

I tried to recall what I was doing before this, where I was and when. And I drew a complete blank. It was like my memory just started over from square one. Iknew I had done things, Iknew I accomplished stuff – could recall acquaintances, enemies, and what few friends I had made; but the specifics were gone. I did recall Mr. House, and knew that he was... well, important. But beyond that... nothing. I tried a little harder to remember...

...and was rewarded with a massive migraine that made me scream out in pain. My gloved hands clutched at my temples, my back spasmed, forcing me to collapse back onto the ground. Jesus Christ! It felt like someone was drilling straight into my forehead with a mining drill! Augh!

So intense was the pain, that a small inkling of tears ran from the corners of my eyes as I lay there, fighting to keep consciousness.

Okay, no thinking about the past. Got it. I thought sarcastically, mouth grimacing on my face.

I waited for maybe a minute, but that constant throbbing made it feel like hours, and the heat still bearing down on me didn't help one bit. Eventually though, the pain dulled down to analmost absent ache. Even so it didn't go away, but it was bearable. I shifted myself up once again...

I heard a voice. No,lots of voices. They sounded frantic, accompanied by rapid... footsteps?

I've heard the tell tale sounds of others before, and being so practiced, I could tell who or what it was by the sound. This was completely foreign and unfamiliar – and that scared me. Gathering as much information on enemies before confronting them was how I survived the Mojave for so long. Those precious moments to prepare and select the perfect plan of action, and the most appropriate, effective weapon. Victory lies in preparation, and I wasnot prepared!

I glanced around quickly. The rest of the supplies I was – or must have been – toting were scattered around me. I spotted my duffel bag with basic supplies and extra ammunition, saw various boxes and other trash. Apparently some of the junk around me came through with me; I made a mental note to check, something could help shed some light on where I was before, and how I got here. If I ever get the chance that is.

I spotted what I really wanted a mere ten yards away; my customized twelve gauge, lever-action shotgun, lovingly nicknamedRetribution. As well as the upgraded anti-material rifle with it.

I grinned at the weapons. I might not have been prepared, but those two guns could handlealmost any situation with relative ease. The rapid footsteps were getting closer – I had maybe a minute before they were on top of me. I made to move...

...andagain fell to the ground yelling in pain, this time clutching my right leg.

“Augh!Fuck!!” I screamed aloud, and fumed at my non-responsive leg.

Almost immediately I wanted to hurl. Halfway down my shin, the leg was twisted at the most unnatural angle.My limb was almost snapped in two! The thick and heavy jeans I wore concealed the true horror of the injury, but even through the clothing's black color I could see the dampness of blood soaked through –oh not good...

Ten yards may as well be tenmiles now. There was no way in hell that I could possibly reach the weapons in time. Fuck! I kicked out my uninjured leg in frustration.

The figures drew closer into sight now, figures clad in armor. Damn!

I forced myself to kneel on one knee, steadying myself with my one good foot. Quickly, I patted myself down, looking for my auxiliary weapons. The footsteps were deafening now, and I could tell without looking up that my potential enemies were upon me. I drew the Ranger sequoia and the scoped hunting revolver. My outstretched arms held the two heavy revolvers at opposite ends; it was the best position I could muster, with each gun covering roughly half of my flanks.

The rumbling noise stopped, and I finally got to examine whatever had me surrounded.

Figures clad in armor had me covered from every angle. My eyes and head swerved back and forth, the shade of my desperado hat shielding my eyes from the sun. Damn it, there were maybe three or fourdozen of these things.

Fuck. Outnumbered, injured, and in some place I didn't recognize in the slightest.

My chest tightened as it dawned on me that I was probably fucked, hard.

Then the strangest thing occurred to me – I was still alive. They weren't attacking me outright. All of them stood there, staring at me. The adrenaline in my blood hadn't subsided, but my mind calmed and I began examining the creatures in earnest.

Obvious things first, these were no creatures I had ever seen in the Mojave. All of them were quadrupeds, and the vast majority were an almost perfect white color with large, expressive eyes uncovered by the armored helmets they wore. Just behind them I could make out various furry tails, most of them different colors that could not have possibly been natural. Neon blue, a fiery red, and a few even had colors I didn't really recognize; I blinked several times, contemplating this. Perhaps the oddest fact was that the creatures were similar to horses – which I saw in the occasional undamaged pre-war book. The only exception was that they were much smaller. With me kneeling on the ground, their heads would come up,maybe, to my chest.

My muscles tensed when I saw their armor. It reminded me much of Caesar's legion – especially the helmets with the artificial mohawks dividing the head. The exception would have to be the color scheme; Caesar had a thing for white, red, and black, while these guys wore gold, silver, and perhaps some black.

I was still wary of them. Even if the coloration was vastly different, the only ones who wore armor in that style were the Legionnaires.

As if to further confound me, I took note of the weapons they wielded; some of them pointed in my direction, while others just stood neutral. Spears, swords, maces, shields, and other such close-quarters combat implements. No guns, no energy weapons, and certainly no explosive-launching bazookas.

I inwardly grinned. That gave me some advantage at least.

That grin disappeared when I saw what looked like crossbowsfloating above their heads, wrapped in... how the hell should I know what!? It just looked like multi-colored faint light.The fuck!? My eyes lingered on the weapons, wondering how the hell that was even possible, as my ranged advantage was flushed down the proverbial toilet.

It was then that I noticed a similar glow surround a few of the creature's foreheads. Said opponents had what looked like some kind of bony appendage or horn, surrounded by that same creepy glowing light. So was there some kind of connection? Worry about that later...

If there was a later... I deadpanned that uncharacteristic optimism.

It seemed like we were all in some kind of awkward stalemate. I couldn't move and had nowhere to go, and they didn't appear to know how to proceed. If I had to guess, perhaps they were just as surprised to see me as I was to them. I caught several of them cocking confused eyebrows at the two revolvers clutched tightly in my hands. What, had they never seen a gun before?

Suddenly, a group of the strange things off to my left parted ways – some even tookflight – to allow an evenlarger creature to come into view. The thing was significantly larger than the rest, taller by perhaps two or three heads worth. From the forehead jutted another of the horns, but much larger. If there was any indication, this meant it was more powerful by far. From the thing's sides there were a pair of wings – perfectly white, matching the coat. It had long hair that flowed all on its own, a multitude of unnatural colors. Honestly, it felt almost odd to call that stuff hair, the way it seemed to wave and weave all on its own – there was no breeze that I could detect.

The figure slowly approached, and I jerked both pistols to aim directly at it.

The figure stopped, and there was a shuffling of armor. The guards that stood idly by, the ones that didn't already have their weapons pointed at me, now had them all aimed directly for my head. If the stature wasn't indication enough, their protectiveness was; this larger, winged and horned, creature was their leader – and they apparently revered it significantly.

The figure glanced at the guards surrounding us, and waved a long, blunt foreleg at them. They all hesitated, and then lowered their weapons begrudgingly. I didn't expect that, and almost felt like a jerk for not doing the same. I couldn't. There were too many unknowns.

“Be at ease my little ponies,” the giant figurespoke, in perfect English no less. I visibly winced in surprise, clearly taken aback by this. The voice also sounded very feminine and regal.

At me being startled by that act, she smiled warmly.

I narrowed my own eyes in apparent confusion and stark suspicion. The only smile I'd ever gotten like that came from psychopathic raiders, and/or men in business suits whom were just snakes in human form. So, I was wondering whether she was going to kick or bite me.

“It seems he doesn't trust you Princess,” another of the winged and horned creatures strolled up. This one was noticeably shorter, with a dark purple coat and indigo hair; a large... was that a tiara?... crown thingie, a gem shaped like a star burst centered on top, on her head.

I pointed my left revolver, the sequoia, at the new one.

She halted in her tracks, staring at the weapon, and chuckled nervously. “Seems he doesn't trust anypony...”Pony? These things were ponies? I thought my brain had broken.

“Shall we introduce ourselves then, my faithful student?” The large white one asked, turning that smile to her companion.

“Yes!” the new one beamed before looking back at me. “I am Twilight Sparkle, Princess, and student to Princess Celestia.” At the last word she nodded her head toward the larger being – whom bowed.

“Uh...” I coughed and cleared my throat. “I'm...”

The one identified as Twilight Sparkle spoke up in alarm, “Injured! Oh my, your leg! You need medical treatment immediately...” she made to move closer to me, that large horn on her head began to glow a stark purple.

Again she froze as I aimed both revolvers at her and said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

I paused, and waited to make sure she wasn't going to do anything else, before continuing, “Just what the hell do you think you're doing?” a sweat began to break out across my forehead, and I got the feeling it wasn't from the heat.

Twilight recoiled from my words, which seemed odd, and then gave me a flat look, “And justwhere else are you going to get that leg treated?” she gestured at my mangled limb with a forehoof.

I grudgingly took my eyes off her to stare at the leg. It was bad. I had the tools in my duffel bag, but I wasn't sure I could properly mend the injury. At best, I would have a bad limp the rest of my life; at worst, I'd be crippled, and for all intents and purposes, dead. On top of that, I'd have to decide quickly. The blood loss was starting to become noticeable as slow drips of my life liquid began to lightly pool on the dirt ground.

Oh jeez...

I sighed, and partially lowered the pair of revolvers in defeat, holding them at my waist, still pointed in Twilight's direction. She took that as a cue, smiled, and trotted slowly towards my maimed leg. The pony bent her head down low, the horn pointed at the leg, and the glow came up again. I felt the tingling in the limb as she began muttering to herself.

“Torn muscle, broken shin, rapid blood loss,and massive blunt trauma.” as Twilight named off my various ailments, I must have been hallucinating because it seemed her fur was going pale. Could fur even do that? I had no idea.

“Goodness...” Twilight gasped as she brought her head back up, and stared at me in pity. “how in the world areyou still awake!?” I blinked at her statement, glanced at the leg, and shrugged.

“Years’ practice?” I chuckled softly. Pricelessly, she gaped at me in shock.

“If you would like,” the larger white pony, Celestia, spoke again. “we can take you to get medical treatment in the castle... mister...?” she trailed off and looked to me expectantly.

“Echoes,” I said. “Dustin Echoes.”

“Well Mr. Echoes,” Celestia continued, “Welcome to...”

Celestia was cut off by a sudden roar.

The two winged and horned ponies, the armored guards around us, and myself turned our heads up to the sky. There was a massive black cloud rising from the horizon... and appeared to be moving towards us!

“Changelings...” Celestia muttered, and then turned towards the guards. “to your stations! Defend Canterlot!”

Now the regal horse turned to Twilight, “Mend his injury, we will need all the help we can get.”

Wait, what!? Now I'm dragged intoanother war!? My headache returned with a vengeance, and I clutched my head in pain.Right, don't think about the past! Any protest became impossible with that throbbing.

“Yes Princess!” Twilight said, and started to move down low next to me. “Brace against me. We need to get you inside before I can mend that!”

I didn't argue. Anything to regain the use of my leg.

“Wait,” I said, and looked back at my possessions strewn across the ground. “my stuff.”

“Right,” Twilight yelled for one of the guards, whom grabbed everything I pointed out and quickly followed after us as I hobbled next to her.

I looked again to the mass of what Celestia had called 'changelings', and wondered what horror I'd be subjected to next.

Definitely not in the Mojave anymore...

Deja Vu...

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

An Unexpected Journey, Discovery of the Heart

Written by: TOOS0BER

Chapter 2: Deja Vu...

Pain.

I was assaulted by incredible pain while Twilight helped me along through hallway after hallway. Every jostling step sent lightning up my leg and to my brain. Multiple times we simply had to stop, lest I pass out completely. Although, as I glanced at the passages we just passed, fainting seemed inevitable unless something was done fast; dotting the polished, white tiled floor was a trail of blood – my blood. This aggravation was making my leg bleed even faster! Damn it...

“Okay,” I whined. “stop,please stop!” I needed another rest; my still gruesomely twisted limb burned with a fire that surely must have rivaled the sun. Twilight helped me brace against the wall, next to a mostly clear mosaic window that overlooked the majestic city.

“I know you're in pain,” Twilight said gently, “but we need to keep moving! The changelings will be here soon, and we need to get you somewhere safe – and the faster we get there, the sooner we can heal that.” she gestured at my leg with a hoof, then grimaced as she noticed the blood down the hallway.

“I know,” I unintentionally growled, face still tightly grimaced in pain. I realized I'd been rude, and changed my tone, “I know... okay, let's go...”

Just block it out Dustin, I thought, desperately trying to close that door.You've been through worse. Just. Block. It. Damn it that was easier said than done! Aside from taking a bullet to the brain, this was definitely in my top five of most agonizing injuries. When I woke up, I had a sanity-splitting headache fordays. Quickly I also had to shove that thought away; the throbbing leg was bad enough, and I needed my head clear of that mysterious headache.

Twilight patiently waited for me to compose myself, and once more I leaned partially against her. The fact that she barely came to my chest made that exceedingly difficult. It was pretty literal; I had my right hand on her back, using my arm and her body to support my right side since that leg couldn't support so much as an empty Nuka cola bottle – damn it! Thatheadache again! Arrugh!

Luckily this one wasn't as intense as the previous two, and I manged to keep it from slowing us down.

I decided it would be better to focus more on my surroundings.

Every dozen feet or so, along the wall to our left, was more of those mosaic windows, brilliant sunlight pouring in to illuminate the hallway. To our right was a plethora of mostly unmarked wooden doors – also adorned with elegant carvings. The whitewashed stone walls matched the exterior I gazed at earlier, even down to the gold trimming. This place, wherever it was, certainly outdid even the best weathered structures in the Mojave.

For the first few minutes there were more of the armored ponies making their way in the opposite direction that Twilight and I traveled. Nearly all of them slowed to a trot to gaze at me – either confused or frightened at my appearance; many even stared at me in complete, unbridled mistrust. I couldn't blame them.

I wouldn't really trust me either, I chuckled at the dark thought. Somehow that was linked to my memories, but it must have been vague enough to not trigger that headache – for which I was extremely grateful.

In that second later, I was disturbed and slightly confused. Why had I just thought that about myself? Why wouldn't I trust myself? Did I do something in the past? I had no answers at this time; and truthfully, wasn't sure I wanted to know. My mouth turned to a grimace at that thought, a new dark cloud of uncertainty hung over my psyche.

“Incoming!” the startled voice of a nearby armored stallion knocked me out of my thoughts.

The whole room began to change colors; the perfect white and stunning gold took on a shifting, eerie green as freshly cast shadows rapidly danced along the hall. I looked curiously out a nearby window – and felt a shiver rush down my spine as my eyes widened in horror.

Acting on instinct, I picked up a startled Twilight, momentarily balanced on my one good leg. “What are you –?”

I cut her off, “No time!” I shouted as I threw the small horse thing as far down the hall as I could muster, she shrieked the whole way.

As soon as Twilight cleared several yards, the world exploded around me. Once more I could feel intense heat as I brought my leather bound arms up to shield myself again. Before closing my eyes, they swam with an eldritch green flame. The sound of screaming was nearly drowned out by the cacophony of smashing stone and breaking glass. The sound of destruction completely dominated my hearing scape.

So loud was the... I guessed it was an explosion... that I didn't realize I was being hurled backwards until my body came in hard contact with the, now rubble covered and blackened, floor.

“Aaauughh!” I screamed again as my bad leg bounced off a large piece of wall chunk, splattering it wetly with blood – my blood, accompanied by that sickening wet smacking sound. If I wasn't in complete agony, that sound alone would have made me hurl.

I breathed rapidly – which turned into a raucous coughing, since the air was still filled with settling dust. The dust cleared surprisingly quickly, and I just started to make out the damage. A good twenty-foot section of the wall was just...gone. A gouging, ragged canyon separated my side of the hallway from the other. The 'ground' was littered with debris – burnt and blackened stone no longer white, twisted golden metal marred by soot and partially melted, and glittering shards of multi-colored glass; even some chunks of wood were strewn about, some of the nearby doors had been shredded by the impact of...

What the hell hit us?

At first I thought that maybe it was an artillery shell, but that thought was quickly disproved. In the crater dug out from the ground, a figure was rising. Momentarily I thought it was Twilight, and was about to call out in concern for her health. The figure seemed to match, I made out the head and the horn that protruded from the forehead, with the wings unfurled on the creature's back.

Or at least I thought that was her, until an important fact dawned on me: Moments before impact, I had thrown Twilight a good twenty-something feet in order to get her to relative safety. Whomever, orwhatever, was in front of me was barely a couple yards away.

Or, I tried to placate myself.Maybe I didn't throw her... as far as... I... thought?

My own thoughts trailed and ground to a halt as the obscuring layer of dust finally cleared completely, and the mysterious figure was revealed. It had dark fur, no, some form of hard, scaly chitin that looked like it could absorb quite a bit of punishment. The wings I saw earlier were not the graceful purple feathers, but some kind of ghastly translucent green... wings? The only relatable image I could conjure was that of an insect – a ratherdangerous insect, with orange wings, that I must have been familiar with in the Mojave. This was clearly not the same creature, but those characteristics told me that said mystery creature was a huge threat. The horn and hooves were different as well, permeated with holes that could be clearly seen through to the other side.

I stared, jaw agape at what stood before me.No, definitely not Twilight Sparkle...

The dust had long settled to levels that allowed all to be visible once more. I glanced around, and saw Twilight on the far side. She was kneeling on the ground, possibly reeling from me throwing her like an over-sized bowling ball. Just beyond her was another pair of the black chitin covered creatures.

I winced.Damn it! I berated myself,I almost tossed her into anotherof those impacts!

I didn't have any more time to contemplate Twilight, as the first creature – the one closest to me – turned its head in my direction. Its eyes were starkly different from the ponies I'd seen before. They glowed blue and empty, almost soulless. The thing bent its head low, and snarled at me – showing off razor sharp fangs. It turned the rest of its body in my direction, and slowly advanced out of the crater, growling the whole way.

An almost primal fear rushed its way inside my mind, while my body reacted in the complete opposite – completely and utterly calm. The creature before me was practically anightmare come alive! And yet, my physical self was completely unmoved. What the hell was this? I should be trembling, why was I so damn calm?

My eyes examined the, I now realized this was one of the changelings mentioned earlier, it could be nothing else, thing as it approached. Somehow, I knew what it was doing. It was gauging me, judging my stature as a threat, evaluating how much challenge I would present. It sniffed the air mildly – the changeling must be able to smell my blood as it pooled quickly on to the floor. And, was it my imagination, or did it justsmile evilly at me? Uh oh.

The changeling lowered to the ground, muscles tensing underneath the scales – ready to pounce.

In that instant the world swirled away...

…and was replaced with a rock canyon. Around me were dozens of large, rusting vehicles sporting dozer blades of various size and purposes held by bolted mechanical arms and wide steel cables. Towering above was a metal tower construct, a half dozen conveyor belt trams led from the peak to the ground. The hallway before was gone, replaced by blue skies with an unforgiving, more familiar sun. I could smell the cordite of recently spent brass.

I glanced around, and indeed there were dozens of brass shell casings – recently used ammunition. I recognized various calibers; medium rounds that reminded me of five-five-six rounds, the typical red casings that signaled that a shotgun was recently used, along with the massive shells of a fifty caliber weapon. Whoever was fighting here had come prepared with adamned impressive arsenal.

That's when I noticed the bodies.

They all belonged to the same kind of creature, but most of them were sized differently. Some were small, barely coming up to my chest. Others were quite large, and I was certain that they would have dwarfed me by a head or two if I were standing upright. All of them were pale skinned with horns and very long, scary claws – they looked sharp enough to sheer through hardened steel – accompanied by huge maws filled with equally sharp fangs.

With a – somehow – practiced eye, I could tell how each of them died.

Some were riddled with a great many bullet holes, made from a heavy weapon that must have fired five-five-six rounds – perhaps even armor piercing variety, as the exit wounds appeared to have carried much more residual power. Despite this obvious spray, it was clear that whoever shot them had impeccable skill with whatever firearm they used. Others were far more gruesome. With missing heads or limbs; probably created by the fifty from a distance (possibly a form of sniper weapon), or from the shotgun up close.

A snarling growl caught my attention.

Just a few feet from where I laid on the ground, was one of the smaller varieties of whatever ugly creatures these were – except it wasalive, absent the bullet wounds, and very pissed off! With a sudden shot, and making eerie eye contact with those cold, scowling eyes, I realized where I 'was' and what these creatures were...

Oh shit...

The Deathclaw charged, and my body reacted of its own accord.

It opened its wide, drooling canyon of teeth to bite down hard at my face; I blocked with my left forearm. It was then that I noticed my arm wasn't clad in a leather duster, but hardened steel that had been shaped to a human arm.When the hell...?

My mouth screamed while I was transfixed with this fact. The creature, despite the formidable looking armor, bit almost straight through into my flesh, gnawing on my appendage.

I spewed a colorful litany of curses at the damnable thing, my other arm – also covered in an armored sleeve – bashed it repeatedly in its butt-ugly face with a familiar revolver, a Ranger sequoia. Finally the thing had had enough, or I'd given it a concussion, and it released my arm, recoiling and shaking its head wildly.

That was all the opportunity I needed.

Time slowed down, and the forty-five-seventy gov't pistol discharged three times with monstrous booms of power; the recoil rattled my hand, but muscle memory and thousands of rounds of practice kept me on target. The Deathclaw's horribly misshapen head practicallydisintegrated from the heavy rounds, spouting gore and blood like some garish, macabre fountain.

The body fell to the ground in a wet heap.

I paused, listening and searching with my ears and eyes at my surroundings. There wasn't a single sound, and not so much as a tumbleweed's worth of movement. Utter tranquility left in the face of annihilating death and destruction. It was almost therapeutic in a highly disturbing kind of way.

What is this? I thought, transfixed by what had just happened. I had no control over the events, but it felt... natural somehow.

What is this? I got a sense of deja-vu, like it was... I couldn't even really describe it.

What is this, I don't even...?

A voice called my name, “Dustin? Dustin, are you okay?”

It was alien, sweet and full of concern. But completely alien. I didn't recognize it as anyone I knew, but, I also felt like I'd heard it recently.

It called out again, “Wake up! Dustin, wake up! We need to go!” This time a plethora of different and familiar smells assaulted my nose. Cordite, like from before, but freshly expended, with the burning, dry grit of recently disturbed rubble – and fresh blood.

The canyon blurred and disappeared...

…and I was back in the decimated hallway in the city, Twilight looking down at me in concern.

“Dustin! Thank Celestia, you're awake!” she sighed in relief.

“Wh-what...” I swallowed as I tried to clear my voice. “what happened?”

“The changelings arrived faster than expected. You and I were attacked on our way to the medical wing... you...” Twilight trailed off, and her face grimaced in worry and suspicion.

“I what?” I asked, flatly staring into her own face.

Instead of replying, she helped me sit up. The headache had returned, much to my regret. Although I didn't have time to ponder why it came back, or what that oddly familiar vision was. Twilight pointed ahead of us with a hoof.

I nearly jumped in surprise and shock at what I saw. At my feet lay that black chitin covered creature – the changeling – its head completely gone, ripped off in meaty tendrils with an iridescent green liquid slowly pooled on the dust-covered floor, utterly motionless. The floor – in addition to the thing's blood – was speckled with shattered pieces of black chitin.

I then noticed two other things – in my left hand was a smoking Ranger sequoia, clearly it had just been fired; that explained the cordite I could smell, and why the changeling lacked a head. The second was a rapidly spreading burn in my right arm. I examined the leather sleeve, and noted red crimson dripping underneath.

Oh great, just one more place I need to bleed from. Wonderful... I groaned at the sarcastic thought. There were four holes; two on the top of my forearm, and two more on the opposing side, underneath. I recalled that the changeling had fangs, and guessed that it must have bitten me on the arm.

I tested my hand's movement, and all digits, plus wrist, moved without effort. A flesh wound at best.

“What did you do?” Twilight's worried voice dragged me from my meager medical examination.

“I defended myself,” I answered honestly, and more than a little defensively.

“Well, yes, obviously, but the sheer power of that... weapon...” she gestured at the sequoia while taking a step back. I didn't know what Twilight was afraid of – I'd never turn my weapon on someone that was trying to help me.

“We should get moving,” I suggested, and tried to stand. “leg... remember?”

Twilight hesitated for but a moment, but then stood up straight to allow me to brace against her.

It seemed like the hallway we were just in was the only one that had been assaulted, as the hall curved slightly and I couldn't see any other smoking holes further down. Twilight explained that it was a form of 'shock trooper' attack that the changelings used. I was only partially correct when I thought we were hit by artillery – the kamikaze creatures used it as a form of destruction,and a way to get their troops where they needed them. Ialmost admired the brilliant tactic.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I flailed as my feet began to leave the floor! It briefly felt like gravity was either reversed or disappeared entirely! Either I'm crazy, or I had too much alcohol at one point or another.

“Hold,” Twilight grunted next to me. “still! This isn't as easy as it looks.”

I looked in Twilight's direction, and that massive horn was glowing again. After that I glanced at my uninjured arm, which still held the half-empty sequoia, realizing that it was surrounded by the same purple aura; along with the rest of me.

It was a little difficult, but I froze myself in place despite the panic rising in my chest. Twilight, satisfied with the absence of movement, spread her own wings and began to fly. Together, we both glided over the canyon gap to the other side of the mangled hall.

Taking advantage of the view, and since I couldn't do anything else until we set down, I turned my gaze outside the gaping hole. Even though the battle had only just started, much of Canterlot was engulfed in red and green hued flames. On the ground, ponies in their gleaming armor and changelings with their chitinous plate battled for control. None of the details were visible, as the two of us were in one of the taller towers. I did catch brief glimpses of strong light, and fleeting images of a tall white figure blasting away with what looked like, to me at least, a combination of lightning arcs and glowing plasma.

I grimaced at the scene.Yup, I was dragged into anotherwar. I groaned at the thought.

“Chrysalis is invading again,” Twilight said solemnly as she flapped next to me. “she never learns...”

“Chrysalis?” I asked the standard question. Even so, I could guess that whoever this 'Chrysalis' was, they were leading this attack.

“Queen of the Changeling race,” the winged and horned pony answered as she gently propped me against a wall, then offered her back as my crutch again. We proceeded, leaving the decimated hallway behind when another thought occurred to me. Weren't there two changelings with Twilight while I was fighting my one changeling?

I asked as much, and she smiled at me. “We know how to deal with our enemy,” she answered somewhat cryptically. I cocked an eyebrow at her, but Twilight didn't seem to notice.

While I didn't have any idea what sort of weapons or tactics these ponies used, a two-on-one fight is usually fairly difficult. The changelings had wings and a horn, just like Twilight had; so I assumed they had similar abilities maybe? Oh who am I kidding! I know next tonothing about these ponies; orchangelings for that matter! Arrugh!

With that I let the subject mentally drop.

“I don't think we're on the right floor,” Twilight said next to me.

I thought getting lost was supposed to be my job...?

“Uh, okay?” I said uncertainly.

Just then a carriage appeared outside the window, pulled by a pair of armored white ponies with wings. The door opened, seemingly to beckon me inside.

I looked down questioningly to Twilight, and she looked at me slightly annoyed, “Well you don't want tofall all the way down to the medical wing, right?” she seemed to smile deviously at me – like she was pondering just that if I took too long.

My eye twitched a moment, and the thought of plummeting down hundreds of feet to the ground was... unnerving, to say the least.

As I was about to climb into the...flying... vehicle, a purple enigma once more enshrouded my body. “What the... Twilight?” I looked to her questioningly, and noted that while I was surrounded by the translucent energy, her horn wasn't. Did that mean shewasn't using her... whatever it was... on me? Then why was I...

“Dustin!” I heard Twilight's panicked voice, but her mouth wasn't moving, and it came from a short distancebehind her.Huh? I think I'm losing it.

From a shattered window flew inanother Twilight Sparkle. My jaw, as well as the first Twilight's, dropped.

The second Twilight glared daggers at the first, then turned that gaze to me. She looked more frazzled, a few scrapes marred her purple coat as she looked to me accusingly. “You're with them!?”

I blinked, frozen in place by the second Twilight's magic, with my mind still reeling from the fact that there's two of them.

“Huh?” I answered, “with who?”

The first Twilight smiled maniacally, oh, and her eyes changed colors to an eerie green, and once more that purple aura enveloped me. Although this time it was far more forceful, her intention was to try and force me into the still waiting carriage outside the window. I got the feeling that Idid not want to get in this carriage. I grabbed the top of the window frame and braced my one good foot on the sill, fighting against the mystery force.

Jesus! Whatever this was, it was fuckingstrong! My muscles strained and trembled under the force; especially my right arm with the new holes punched into it. My teeth grit under the pressure, as I looked again to the not-Twilight. The now obvious impostor simply continued to smile and glare at me – the effort appeared to be minimal for her... it. It was only a matter of time before my weakened body gave.

My breath was suddenly forced from my lungs as more pressure – from the opposing direction – started to press against my body. The second Twilight, now inside the broken window, several feet behind the first, had her own horn glowing as she tried to prevent the first from shoving me inside. Despite the fact that I had two forces pinning me in place, I still held fast against the window frame.

Blood built in my face as a sweat broke out on my forehead, face grimaced in agony. It felt like I was pinned in a garbage compactor! A lightheaded fog formed in my brain, a combination of lack of oxygen and increased blood loss that flowed from my right arm and leg.I can't take much more of this!

As abruptly as an explosion, one half of the energy disappeared, and I reflexively sucked in a breath at first opportunity...

...only to have it immediately forced from my lungs as a pair of hooves violently slammed into my chest. My grip faltered, and I was sent careening outside the window. I don't know how far I fell, but knew I was falling because the wind whipped my leather duster about like a wind sock in a category five hurricane. Despite being able to breath again, I lost consciousness.

Hard Landing is Hard...

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust

An Unexpected Journey, Discovery of the Heart

Written by: TOOS0BER

Chapter 3: Hard Landing is Hard...

Accuracy.

The red cross hairs of the modified .308 rifle rested just above the man's chest, a fraction of an inch above his collar bone. He was difficult to make out in his dark armor and the waning moon night, but he was definitely there; evidenced by his slow, cautious walking. Like a shadow moving amongst shadows.

“Target spotted,” a deep voice called out monotonously to my right.

I gave a nod, and added, “Firing for a fact.” I squeezed the trigger.

The long ranged rifle gave a quietsnip instead of a crackingboom. A fraction of a second later, my target's head disappeared as the armor piercing round punctured the crude helmet that he wore. Another fraction, and the body joined the giblets on the ground next to the rest of the fresh corpses that I knew were there, hidden just out of sight by a nearly flat hill. I blinked, and then there were no more targets.

“That should be the last of them,” Boone stated casually.

“Confirmed,” I added, “no further targets. Looks like we did it.” Even as I said that, there was no mirth in my voice; no sense of satisfaction, no righteous globe throbbed in my chest. It was just another tally mark on my weapon. Another spent cartridge. More carrion for the wildlife of the Wasteland. Simply no change whatsoever.

Despite the waning heat of the previous day that persisted into the night, I felt cold.

Boone and I packed up what little equipment we deployed for the improvised sniper's nest we'd set up outside Bittersprings, and settle down for the night. Neither of us were big on talking. Whatever needed to be said could wait until the morning, as I drifted off to a dreamless, uneasy sleep.

Some time later, I heard the rapid beating and fluttering of wings.

I opened my eyes. The morning sun was just cresting the horizon, painting the sky a collage of reds, purples and grays with the various clouds in the sky. There was also orange, with black.

I blinked several more times as the picture began to register in my head. Floating just above me, and descendingfast, was a monstrously sized Cazadore – an incredibly dangerous, poisonous insect mutated by radiation of the apocalypse some two hundred years ago.

“Shit!” I shouted as I scrambled for the revolver that perpetually stayed at my side.

The over sized bug was nearly upon me, its two-foot long stinger pointed menacingly in my direction, intentionspainfully clear. I brought up the .45-70 gov't hunting revolver, and sprayed away. It didn't matter that two bullets, or even one if I had the presence of mind to use the supercomputer on my wrist, would have done the job just fine; my body, in cold panic, acted of its own accord and emptied the chambers. Each round hit a variety of marks. Gouging holes formed in the thorax, which spouted dark green ichor. A wing was sheared off, and the creature shrieked when one of its eyes exploded. The extensive damage caused the predatory animal to nearly fall apart. It was dead before it hit the ground in a crumpled heap.

Fuck! Where the hell did thatcome from!?

My body remained calm, and the panic in my head – which was little more than being startled – subsided quickly. Or at least it did for a moment until...

“Auugh!” I heard a human scream.

Boone was being assaulted by another of the hideous insects. I turned my head just in time to watch the stinger penetrate his gut. My mind went numb, and I jumped up and charged on instinct, two combat knives drawn immediately. By the time I had closed the short distance between the Cazadore and myself, it had withdrawn the stinger and started to turn in my direction.

But it was too late.

I tackled the thing, wedging the blades like a pair of scissors to the base of its 'neck' – if insects even had a neck. Regardless, it worked. The thing's head separated from its body, the hard exoskeleton giving way to my knives and momentum.

And now my plans went how they usually go...

In my haste, I neglected to consider the short bluff we had camped out on, and plummeted over the edge...

(-0-)==========<[0]>==========(-0-)

I woke up to the feeling of unfamiliar, chaotic momentum. Every few seconds something jostled the... whatever I was in, while a resounding boom roared a few scant yards away. It was a sound I recognized somehow; but like everything, my mind drew a blank. That was getting annoying, even if it did result in a headache. I wanted to move...

… and winced.

My chest burned with a fire, and my lungs had a hard time providing me with breath so desperately needed. The sensation of moving was felt everywhere, like I was inside one of the NCR's vertibirds. I'd only ridden in one once, and did not enjoy it at all. The one time I did, I re-decorated the floor with breakfast. Since this felt almost exactly like that, and the regrettably familiar nausea assaulting me, I assumed I was flying; falling felt very different.

I opened my eyes.

I was inside a cramped compartment. It was bright and colorful, decorated with lacy furnishings; obviously meant for those that thought they were better than others. There were windows, but the curtains had been drawn and fastened into place, denying me any information of what was outside. Sound was muffled, but the reverberating boom of explosions could be heard through the door; I assumed that whatever I was in was still over the city.

Purple movement caught my eye, and I looked over to see Twilight standing on one of the cushions with an intense look on her face, and those wings splayed high. Somehow she had sensed that I was awake, or she saw my head move in her peripheral vision, and turned to face me. The pony grinned at me, her eyes scowling.

I blinked, about to ask her what the hell happened...

… when her eyes suddenly flared green.

Oh, I thought, another major panic forming in my chest as my eyes widened.Not Twilight. Not Twilight!

That was definitely confirmed when her entire, wickedly smiling, body was engulfed in searing green flames that –somehow – didn't catch the delicate fabric ablaze. A mere two seconds later, and the purple pony was replace by a black creature with insectoid wings and a horn that was pierced with multiple holes.

Well, I thought,now I know why they're called 'Changelings'. Go figure.

I forced myself to lean against the opposite bench, and readied for whatever attack that must have been coming. The changeling snarled at me, just like the first one, and lowered into a crouch. I already knew what was coming, and prepared.

It launched itself at me, forehooves outstretched, with translucent wings flapping rapidly to give it more power.

The angle and power forced me from the base of the bench, and up against the carriage wall. I had my gloved hands in a deadlock with the changeling's holey hooves; our limbs trembling as we tried to overpower one another. My right forearm began to strain and burn, reminding me that I had a semi-fresh injury there. But, damn it, there was no time for that in a life-or-death struggle!

The changeling figured out that its strength wasn't enough to overpower me outright, and began to beat its wings again to gain more ground. My elbows bent, giving way slightly and slowly, my back pressing more against the wall, that fiery burn increased ten fold, and I grit my teeth.

Any thought process I had going was interrupted when I had to weave my head back and forth to dodge the thing's, apparently verysharp, horn. The changeling, its wings bringing it closer to my face, was trying to impale me with the appendage on its forehead.

After several near misses, one even came so close that my left ear was now bleeding, it snarled again in frustration... and its horn wrapped in an eerie green glow.

My eyes widened, I was certain that whatever the changeling was doing was going to end badly –for me. Although as luck would have it, whatever weapon it was trying to deploy needed time and concentration. Tensing, I flung my arms out to the side, knocking the chitin covered hooves away. The creature balked in surprise, its lifeless blue eyes widened, not expecting my sudden counter-attack as it stumbled forward.

I reached out with my left hand and grasped the glowing horn tightly.

A tingling combination of burning fire, crackling electricity, and a freezing chill ran through my entire arm. I screamed out in pain, but kept my hand firmly gripped on the horn-thing. I looked directly at the changeling through wet eyes, its face was contorted in shock and fear, the jaw that held so many fanged teeth hung open. My opponent tried to scurry away on its hooves and wings, but only succeeded in scuffing the wooden floor of the carriage. That movement also began to cut through the material of my glove, and flay my hand as my blood started to drip down the horn.

A manic grin crossed my mouth. I'm not one-hundred percent sure, but I think the changeling knew what I was about to do, as it started shaking its head rapidly – not to try and get loose, but pleading with me not to do what I was about to do. This was pretty much lost on me with the adrenaline, and then I twisted my wrist, hard.

All at once the pain stopped, and the sickly green aura that surrounded the horn disappeared in a mild explosion of force, causing me to bounce lightly off the carriage wall. The changeling, however, was flung towards the opposite, and bounced unceremoniously back in front of me with a loud thud. I had no idea how much pain it must have been in, but I could guess. It pawed at the jagged stump on its forehead with forehooves, the wings and rear legs flailing wildly while its mouth gaped open soundlessly, tears flowing from its soulless eyes.

I can't believe I'm saying this, I stared at the changeling.I almost feel sorry for it.

Again I scoffed at my own thoughts. This creature was ready tokill me. I may not have known exactly what it was doing with that horn, but it wasnot trying to give me a present, that was for damn sure. A part of me – a part I was steadily beginning to not like – wanted to leave the thing there, writhing in agony.

I winced.No, I was never that heartless... or at least I don't think so. Either way, I'm not going to be now...

Wordlessly, I clutched the changeling's jaw, and its head by one of its ears. It didn't acknowledge that I was making contact, its senses blocked by intense pain. I frowned, and hesitated for only a moment, uncertain of whether this was the right course of action. I wasn't sure whether or not the changeling could die from this sort of injury, nor did I consider that the horn might possibly be re-attached. Although, if I were in this situation, a mercy killing is what I would have wanted right now...

I was frozen. Caught in a crossroads of what to do. Conflict between myself: one side wants to end its pain, let the changeling rest in peace... a mercy killing. Another wants to help it, give it painkiller and tell the thing to hang on. The last also wants to kill it, but...

With another jerk, I snapped its neck. The changeling's head went limp in my hands, and its body ceased its quivering on the floor.

A red hot needle jabbed in my brain, and I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

That was nothing compared to the headaches earlier, but it had me rubbing my temple nonetheless as I stared at the fresh corpse.

A jarring movement almost sent me careening into the wall, my left arm prevented me from slamming my shoulder.

Now to deal with the 'ponies' driving this thing.

Once more I reached for my ranger sequoia and checked the load: half empty. Most of my extra ammo was in the bag that came through with me, but I also kept a few reloads worth on my person. Exchanging the three empty shells for press ones, I then pocketed the spent brass. With any luck, maybe they can be reloaded for later; although that seems unlikely if the weapons the creatures used were any indication. There was a possibility I may have to learn how to use swords and bows... that'll be interesting.

I stood on my good leg, and braced my good arm on the ceiling, and was hunched over uncomfortably as a result. Clearly this thing wasn't designed with humans in mind. My crooked, still steadily bleeding leg had long ago gone numb – thank God. I aimed the revolver near the front, or what I assumed was the front from the way the momentum felt. From what I saw outside, I made an educated guess of where the drivers were.

Bang! Bang!

Two rounds tore through the left side, the I swiveled the gun to the right.

Bang! Bang!

Another pair of identical holes appeared on the right.

For a moment, the ride leveled out and went smooth...

… then started to slant away from me... downward.

With a chilling realization, what was happening hit me like a sack of bricks.

Oh shit...!

How could I have been so stupid!? Carriage flying through the air, kill the drivers and it falls! Nofucking duh! How could I have known that the drivers werealso the engine!? Oh stupid, stupid, stupid! For each 'stupid' I thwacked myself with the revolver's spine for emphasis.

For whatever reason, I emptied the sequoia and reloaded with fresh rounds, again pocketing the spent casings out of sheer habit. The dawning realization had a cold sweat form on my brow, and I braced as firmly as I could in the cramped carriage interior. I was almost vertical with the ground, and could feel the velocity building.

Ugh, I'm going to die... again!

I imagined the carriage, what little I saw from the outside before I became a sandwich, splattering into the ground. Ironically, in the exact same place I crashed in to earlier.

The thing suddenly lurched, and began to spin wildly. I felt like I was now in a blender, my body spinning one way while the carriage another. Every impact of my body hitting some random surface – the bench, the ceiling, the floor and back – knocking me about like marble in a sack.

“Oof!” my back hit the wall.

“Ack!” my good leg hit the bullet ridden wall – which cracked and splintered alarmingly.

“Why did I –ouch – have to –damn it – shoot the pilots!?” I cursed my idiotic actions over and over again as I tumbled inside the 'egg'.

I heard something snap, and then the whole ride came to a sudden stop. Something hard whacked the back of my head, and all I saw was black, and heard nothing but silence.

(-0-)==========<[0]>==========(-0-)

“Ooogh...” I groaned.

My head hurt more than ever right now; worse than that headache, it felt similar to the hangovers I would get at the Atomic Wrangler. The sun beat down on my face again, and I felt relieved. At least that meant I wouldn't suffocate under debris. Every breath I took was labored, there was a lot of something heavy just sitting on my chest. It was just that sensation that something was there, no pain along with it.

In fact, my whole body felt numb.

Oh... not good. It seems that consent was becoming a theme today, as I cracked my eyes open.

The world was tinted in red – blood from my forehead had seeped into my right eye – and I tried in vain to clear my vision. The carriage I occupied just moments – or maybe hours, I had no way of knowing how much time had passed – was in chaotic ruins around me. Splintered, broken wood, torn, shredded fabric surrounded me. The 'roof' of the ruined carriage had collapsed onto my chest, pinning me to the floor.

First order of business, I needed to get out from under this debris.

My arms were just as pinned as the rest of me. Although my body was numbed from pain, every time I tried to  pull out my arms, I couldfeel something snagging, tearing with each tug. I grimaced, and thought about what that would mean. At best, it was just my sleeves getting caught by the wood. At worst... well, at worst my arm was shredded hamburger meat getting perforated by jagged wood spikes and twisted metal. Right now I wasn't sure which idea made me sicker – flying, or the mental image of another maimed limb.

Just then my face was peppered with dust and small debris propelled by a powerful gust of wind. An explosion blew up almost right next to me! The dust stung in my eyes, and I blinked rapidly. I brought my arm up to rub my eyes...

Wait, my arm? I stared at my left arm, the sleeve was indeed shredded, several shallow gashes and cuts decorated its length, but it wasn't the visceral tendrils of destroyed meat like I thought it'd be. I looked down at my chest with my burning eyes. The force of the nearby explosion had tossed the carriage roof off of me.

Slowly, unsteadily, I grabbed onto some of the more sturdy looking debris and tried to pull myself up. Every muscle screamed in protest, and at any second it felt like what meager strength I had left would just evaporate in an instant. I nearly fell when I almost tried to stand on both feet. I froze myself, aware that my leg was useless.

Fuckin' son of a...

I groaned, and punched a nearby beam – and nearly yelped whenthat arm complained loudly. My left fist was mangled – not twisted and malformed like my leg, but I knew I must've broken at least a few fingers. Not only that, but there was this odd... feeling, right in the center of my palm, and spread halfway up my fingers. It was the same hand I used to snap the changeling's horn off; the same one that got brutalized by that thing's sharpness, decorated in more gashes and cuts. I breathed a sigh, and my chest tightened...

Oh boy... I think one of my ribs was broken now.

A sense of urgency took over, and I turned my wrist to look at the pip-boy. Pain was currently absent of consciousness, but the computer could visibly tell me what was wrong with me. Everything from mild scrapes and bruises, to broken legs and crippled arms. Somehow it could also calculate that damage into an overall point system.

Or at least it would have... if the screen wasn't currently dark.

“God fuckingdamn it!” I broke out into a brief litany of curses as my predicament got that much worse. Could my luck getany worse today!? Everything I've been through, and the damned thing breaksnow!?

I examined the damage a bit more closely once my head cleared. At least a little bit of credit had to be given to the device. The casing was only dented, not cracked or shattered; same for the display screen with only a small half-inch crack near the bottom left. Some circuitry on the inside must have been knocked loose. Or Ihoped that's all it was, as anything more complex than that would be beyond my ability to fix.

Damn it, I mentally cursed while shaking my head.

Worry about that later. Sound began to return to my tortured ear drums, and the world around me started to come back into reality. Activity flooded my canals, familiar noise that I became more and more acquainted with over time; the sound of battle.

Combat was recognizable in all forms, even though the creatures of this world lacked the roaring noise of guns that cracked in the air. I heard battle cries, the glorious shouts of those that readied themselves for an attack. The clang of metal on metal as weapons made contact with armor perforated repeatedly in an unorganized, chaotic sequence. The occasional explosion joined in, and bounced off the city's blackened towers, which made it seem to come from everywhere at once.

Although I couldn't see it. The crash of the carriage had dug a crater deep enough that I would need to climb out to observe. I found a long piece of wood looked safe enough to use as a crutch, and slowly hobbled my way up the, blessedly, not very steep slope. At least that was going my way...

If there were any doubts that I wasn't involved in another war before, they just evaporated at the sight before me. Just as the sounds before told me, I was surrounded by conflict. The various races of ponies, most of them bound in the same armor as the guards before, were battling hordes of changelings. At first it seemed like the ponies outnumbered the changelings by at least three to one, but that was disproved quickly when I noted that some battles were between armored guards. Three pony soldiers were fighting a trio of eerily similar figures – perfect mirror images, I soon realized.

Well, that complicates things, I thought dourly.

Movement caught my attention, and I turned my head just in time to catch one of the pony creatures charging me, a long, sharp spear thrust from his mouth. I jerked by back and my head, avoiding the spear's path by inches as the armored pony rushed past me. I staggered back on the crutch, always keeping my bad leg in mind.

The pony skid to a halt some ten yards away and paused to stare at me – or at least I assumed he was staring at me; his helmet was fully covered except for the mouth, with only dark slits where the huge eyes would be. His armor matched along with the others, with a few plates added here and there. The forearms, left bare on the others, were covered in gold plates trimmed with silver; along with heavier shoes on the hind hooves while the rear legs were bare, revealing yellow or gold colored fur. Larger pauldrons on his shoulders, as well as a small shield or buckler was attached to his left forearm. In the way the stallion stood he carried an aura of authority and force, a veteran and possibly a leader among the ponies.

I blinked as he lowered into another combat stance.

Definitely higher ranked, I thought as my eyes notices a small detail on his chest. An inset gemstone shaped like a five-pointed star trimmed in some kind of blue metal, a pair of identical, smaller stars flanking it.

To my horror, the stallion scraped the buckler forehoof on the ground repeatedly – a sign that he was about to charge a second time. This wasn't good! I wasn't in any condition to fight, it was a miracle in and of itself that I was still standing at all!

“Shit...” I muttered under my breath.

He charged, the spear thrust out in front of him, intentions clear.

I tensed, and watched his approach carefully, my eyes locked on that pointed tip. All my concentration went into timing this right. Damn it, the blood still seeping from whatever wound was on my forehead wasn't doing me any favors either, and made the task that much more difficult. When he got close enough, and the moment felt right, I acted.

I balanced on my good leg, and lifted up my impromptu crutch to swing it like a club. The armored stallion himself wasn't my target – a stick wasn't very useful against armor – his spear was though. Timing it right, the club made contact with the shaft of the spear just under the metallic tip, knocking the point away, as well as the pony's head.

Continuing the flow, I brought the pole back down with the intention of whacking him on the back. It wouldn't do much better than stun, but if I could pin my opponent, then maybe I could convince him I was on his side. Mid swing, though, he surprised me.

Shortly after I knocked his spear away, negating his charge attack, he must've predicted what I'd do next. My opponent stopped next to me, crouched low, and used his legs to jump away to the side. Despite that heavy armor, and the forward momentum, he was able to perform such a maneuver to avoid my attack entirely, and as a result my crutch-turned-war club smacked harmlessly into the dirt.

He rolled out of reach, and quickly got to his hooves and faced me again. There was a pause, and he didn't charge immediately – which gave me the time I needed to right myself, which wasn't something easily done, what with a bum leg.

“Impressive,” the stallion spoke after stabbing the pointed spear into the ground to speak. As suspected, his voice carried the same deep authority that his confident stance held. “your injuries are great, but you can still stand your ground changeling.”

“I'm not a changeling,” I replied with a slight rasp in my voice – breathing was getting more difficult, despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I can't keep this up for too long.

“Sure you aren't,” the stallion tersely responded, clearly not buying a single word. “there are no other creatures like you that I am aware of. Some new trick by the changelings to confuse us,” he thrust out an accusing armored hoof at me, and his volume rose, “and it won't work! Your trickerydies now!” With that, he picked up the spear again; only this time his mouth gripped more in the middle of the shaft, rather than the very base.

There wasn't a point in trying to convince him now. The conviction in his tone was evidence enough that he would not believe anything I could possibly say. Somehow I'd need to prove to him I wasn't one of the changelings, and I could think of only one way...

With my left arm I drew one of the two combat knives I had, and held it hilt down.

Awkwardly, thanks to the improvised crutch, I steadied myself in a combat stance, ready to reluctantly fight.