Ponyville, Equestria, 203 years ago...

The sun rose in the east. It's crimson and gold rays signaled a new day. The inhabitants of the small town of Ponyville slowly woke up from their slumber. The shops and vendors began their day selling their wares as a strange awkwardness hung over them. The only store that remained untouched by such dreariness was the colorful Sugarcube Corner, and that was only because it was closed for the day.

Inside, a pink coated Earth Pony Mare stood in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on two large, three layered cakes. She stood on her hind legs as she held the icing bag in her forehooves, slowly making a nearly life-like rose bud. Her eyes where closed as she finally stood back and looked at the two cakes. Both looked more like small bouquets of assorted flowers than dessert.

She stood still, looking at the two cakes, her bloodshot eyes focusing more on the cake filled with violets and pink mums. She finally sat down and closed her eyes, her pink hair flat and devoid of it’s typical bounce. She took a few deep breaths, each one seemingly inflating and curling her hair till it was a mess of cotton candy colored madness. As she opened her eyes, she could see the silhouette of Mrs. Cake, her landlady/employer as she stood at the door leading to the kitchen.

“Pinkie? I thought you finished the cakes last night? Why are you…” She began to say before looking at the cakes themselves. “My word… How long have you been working on this?”

“Eleven hours and forty-six minutes. Went through two pots of coffee, went to the bathroom six times, and only hallucinated twice this time.” Pinkie said with a smile, recounting the last time she pulled an all-nighter where it ended with her thinking she was a Bug Bear, buzzing around and eating intruders into the bakery, which resulted in her accidently tackling and biting Nigel...

The memory hit Pinkie like a ton of bricks, wiping the small smile she had on her face as she looked back at the cake she made for him. Mrs. Cake put a fore hoof around Pinkie, pulling her into a hug. “I know this is hard for you, Pinkie. Carrot Cake will take care of getting the cakes into the wagon. Try and get some shut eye, alright? I’ll wake you up and help you into your dress before the funeral, okay?”

Pinkie nodded quietly as she made her way up to her room. Her hoofsteps rang through her ears as she did her best not to think of the rest of the day. She reached her room and, with barely a sound, fell into her bed. Her eyes closed tightly as she tried to force sleep on herself, thinking of the day she first met Nigel.

“Ow! What in blazes was that for?” The tall, dark skinned man said as he rubbed his shin, nursing a bite from the now pinned down Pinkie Pie, slowly writhing underneath his posterior.

“I am so so so so sorry, Mr. Tennant! Pinkie just pulled an all-nighter… she isn’t dangerous…” Carrot Cake said as he looked down in horror.

“Giiive meeeee honeeeeey….” Pinkie Pie groaned into the floor, her forehooves waving out as though as if she was trying to cast a spell.

“… I can’t really be mad at that… I’ve been there myself. I know an easy way to knock some sense into her.” Nigel pulled out a flask and opened it. He managed to hold the flask under Pinkie’s nose long enough for her to begin coughing.

“OH, CELESTIA! What is that!?” She coughed, her hooves covering her nose as her eyes watered. “It smells horrible!”

“That is Pick-me-up juice.” Nigel said, closing the flask as he looked down at Pinkie. “Now, are you of sound mind?”

Pinkie looked up at Nigel, still looking tired, but smiling. “Never. Now, if you asked if I was back too normal, I’d say sort of…” Nigel chuckled at that as he slowly got off Pinkie. Pinkie stood up and began to walk away, only to look back. “I hope I can see you again soon, Mr. Tennant. I still owe you and your family a party.”

Nigel smiled back, giving a wave. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Mr. Cake looked at the two, as they stood looking at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. He cleared his throat and the two were knocked back into reality. Pinkie Pie blushed as she turned back to the stairs and went up the stairs.

Pinkie woke from the dream… the memory… to reality by a sudden weight on her belly. She looked down and saw Pumpkin looking worried, the small foal’s eyes glistening from worry. Pinkie smiled sadly as she picked up Pumpkin and hugged her, patting her gently on the back. “It’s okay, Pumpkin. I’ll be alright.” She said, half lying to herself as she got up from the bed. She looked at the time and noticed that it was an hour till the funeral.

She sighed to herself as she set Pumpkin down. “Stay right there, alright? Auntie Pinkie just has to get dressed, and I’ll play with you a bit.” She smiled, but the hair on her head remained half way inflated, even, as she gave her big, warm smile before jumping into her closet and closing it. In a matter of seconds, she jumps out, dressed in her Galloping Gala dress. “Ooopsie doozle… wrong dress.” She said to Pumpkin, making the baby filly giggle. She jumped back in and came back out dressed in a black suit that was obviously a few sizes too small, with pants two sizes too bit, and human shoes that made her stand on her hind legs, making her walk an awkward penguin-esque walk as she wore a small boulder hat on her head.

She held up a sign next to her, reading:

“It’s alright, Kid. I know how Modern Times would have you think that A Woman in A Busy Day would be only Getting Acquainted with Work like today’s, but we all have things we have to do. It’s all a matter of going out there to Show People that we aren’t an Idle Class. We’ll show that we aren’t just Making a Living, but that we are Shanghaied by love.”

She stopped, and looked at the sign, and smiled.

“Silly me. You can’t read this, can you, Pumpkin…?” She said as she gave a laugh, and slowly took off the costume. She had a tear come down from her cheek, but the smile remained as she reached into the closet and pulled out a black dress.

One that was made by her mother. She slipped it on, and found that, strangely enough, it didn’t constrict around her. The midsection felt a bit tight, but not restrictive, which she tested by leaning backwards and standing on her forehooves without the rest of the dress flipping down. She got back to her regular position and smiled. “She knows me too well, Pumpkin.” She chuckled as she brushed off a few patches of dust on her dress.

She walked back to the foal and picked her up, setting her on her back. A few calming breaths, and the party mare made her way to the door to her room. She turned and looked on her dresser drawer a few pictures she had, one of her family when she was younger, standing in front of the Rock Farm. The second was a picture of her and her friends at the corner booth of Donut Joe’s, everyone wearing the dresses made by Rarity. The final one, the one her eyes where focused on was a much more recent photo.

It was her and Nigel, sitting near the water fountain in the park, and the first time she had smiled that way to anyone. The memory of that day played through her head both eased her pain and spurred her like a caravan brahmin. Her eyes closed and, tears falling down, turned back as she put on that same smile again, just for him.

////////////////////////////////////

I sat outside the orphanage, looking at the door as Ragdoll sat next to me. We waited for Jerry to return. Ragdoll was doing her best to be silent, her worry more than evident on her face, but either her loyalty or fear of me kept her from voicing her opinions.

When we saw Jerry, his face was pale and he looked far more on edge than when I first met him. As he walked towards us, he waved me closer to him as he stood just outside the gate. With how he looked, I could tell that it was something that was better left between him and I, so I motioned for Ragdoll to stay put. Again, she relented, but not without letting out a very discontent sigh.

I got to Jerry’s side when he started to talk. I couldn’t get it all, but it went something like this…

“Pop culture reference, pop culture reference, some unimportant information, I chose Discord as my OS, pop culture reference.”

It took me a moment to realize what he had just told me, but when I did, I reacted in the most dignified, and professional of ways.

////////////////////

She put her hooves around my neck and tried to strangle me! I never knew that hooves could squeeze like that! The bloody hell!

///////////////////

I regained my composure.

/////////////////

She yelled “YOU DID WHAT!?” right into my face when she let go. I almost thought an eardrum burst.

///////////////

And he explained the situation further, telling me about how Rebecca was capable of seeing the spirit of chaos inhabiting his Pip Boy, and that he was fully integrated with said Pip Boy.

/////////////

After a while, she looked up at me, and with her usual neutral expression, asked the one question I wasn’t expecting.

“Has this changed anything?”

I couldn’t help but pause. I couldn’t really tell what she meant by that. Well, not at first. I smiled and shook my head. “I suppose not. Besides, it’s too late now. I made a promise, and I got no intention of pissing off my grandparents by going against my word.” I joked. I turned back to look at the orphanage, and saw Rebecca looking out at me, waving sadly back at me. I gave a sad smile back, waving in return. I know that I was returning. She knew I would… at least I think she knew.

I turned back to Fleur, and she had a look in her eyes that looked like… pity.

////////////

It was pity…

////////////

“Then I suppose that means that we have to work just as hard to make sure she has a safe place to call home.” She started to say as the pity became anger. “Now, onto the fact that you picked… and hid Discord of all creatures in your pip boy!”

“Alright, I chose Discord from two programs, the other choice being Sombra, or at least I think it was. Now, granted, when I made the choice, I had no idea that I was literally downloading someone… again, I have no frickin’ idea how magic and technology works here! Clean bloody slate this mind is!”

“He’s right. It’s like a freshly painted bathroom stall… and I have a lifetime supply of permanent markers!” Discord said with a squeal of delight.

“Hush it, dude!”

“What did he say?” Fleur demanded.

“Is that Fleur?” Discord’s face turned to Fleur. “Oh, dear Celestia! What a mess! What happened to her face?”

Have to clean that up a bit. “He says that you look well for what you’ve been through.”

She glared at me, as did Discord.

“Alright, he said that you look horrible!” I then realized something. “How do you two know each other?”

“We don’t, really.” Flure said as she looked at me “We met a few times, the first being at the Grand Galloping Gala when he brought his… FRIEND… along.”

“Smooze is more of an acquaintance than a friend…” The image of Discord held up a jar with a small, green gem-like item inside it. “He’s a horrible conversationalist, and his manners are more than wanting…”

“So you only invited him because you were jealous.” I said with a smirk.

“Jealous? Who was he… Ooooh!” Fleur’s lips turned up in a grin as Discord began to blush! Oh, this is too good to be true!

“Could we talk of something else, please? Maybe get something to eat?”

I turned to Fleur with a smile. “You know, as a fan of the show, I had a lot of theory’s on how things worked, especially relationships. You think you could tell me if one of my theories are true, Boss?”

Fleur smile became smugger as she looked at me. “Consider it part of your first paycheck, Jerry. We still have a bit to talk about, but for now… let’s get back to the others, alright?”

I nodded and began to walk back to Rag Doll, who had been stareing at us, worried. As soon as I passed her, she followed me, and began to ask the questions.

“Why was The Boss choking you?”

“I passed gas.”

“Brahmin Shit. What did you do?”

I looked over at her, smiling as I ruffled her hair. “I’m saying this once, Rag Doll. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask The Boss. It’s her secret to tell now.”

Rag Doll didn’t like the answer, but she didn’t look like she wanted to risk getting her head chewed off by Fleur… yet.

“So… on an unrelated note… I remember you telling me that you, Sunday and Daisy are sisters. But…”

Rag Doll nodded as her smile slowly returned to her lips. “But Daisy got the whole Hybrid deal, right? Long story short, Mommy had to make caps, and we’ve never knew our fathers.”

“Huh…” yeah, I got nothing after that.

Seriously! How do you follow up when your friend tells you her mother was a prostitute?

“Yeah… by what I understand, Daisy’s father was a Zebra Hybrid who was a member of the Legion. My dad was a merc who saved Mom from a Super Mutant Overlord that took control of a Minotaur Mutant hide out. So, in short, I was the freebie.” She chuckled at her rather dark joke. “Sunday and Wi-“ she stopped in mid-sentence, not just verbally, but physically. I looked back at her, and noticed a bit of a sad and worried look in her eyes. “That’s her business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I looked at her, a bit confused. “Did she have a Siamese twin or something?”

“What the hell is a Siamese twin?” Ragdoll looked like she took a bite of a bad peanut when I said that.

I blinked a bit, then realized my faux pas. “Right, the politically correct term is conjoined twin… still don’t get why they used to use that other term…”

Discord rolled his eyes a bit. “One bad night in New York with P.T. Barnham, that’s what.”

… What?

“I saw a pair of brothers that needed money, got them to New York, and sort of… sold them to P.T. Barnham…”

H….how?

“My body was the only thing that was turned to stone, thick head. I just… sort of… possessed a guy. You know, to cause problems.”

… You… you and I are going to have to have a long discussion listing the things you can and won’t do when your inside me.

“Pfft…”

Don’t start with me, Q!

“You alright, Jerry? You kind of blanked out there.” Ragdoll said, waking me from my other discussion.

“Y-yeah… and if you don’t want to talk about it, I gotcha. I’ll just get it from her when she’s ready to tell me.” I masterfully redirected the question… before my face was masterfully smacked by a low hanging metal sign for armor cleaning. And before I could hiss and say how much it smarted, I felt another smack to the back of the head, bringing me into unconsciousness.

“Haha!”

Shut it… DeLancey….

////////////////////////////////////////////////

Oh, that must have hurt.

Jerry took the hit to the front of his head pretty well, but when it swung around and smacked him in the back of the head. I was surprised that he hit it that hard, and that he actually managed to knock himself out. I managed to get to his side quickly enough and set him against the wall. I wasn’t as worried about his condition as you’d think, mainly because I took a look at his Pip Boy and saw that he was still in good shape. I let out a sigh of relief as I took a quick look around and noticed that we where pretty much alone in the street.

I… started to get curious and began to look through it, and found out some interesting things, namely that he had a perk called “Head-on assault”, something that made his front side of his body a lot tougher than his back side. Out of curiosity, I… um… experimented that, and poked his chest, which actually had a good amount of definition to it. His back was a bit softer, but not in a bad way.

I continued to look at the list of perks and saw one called “Unlikely Allies”. It’s description was a bit stranger than the other. “Friends come naturally to you, and you don’t really have a choice in the matter on where they come from. Just roll with it, and see where it takes you.”

It sort of made me wonder about this situation, existentially. Am I… or anyone in the gang, for that matter, friends with Jerry because we want to be? Or is it the effect of some strange unknowable power? I wouldn’t be halfway interested in him if I knew I was being manipulated to… would I? Wait, when I say “interested” I didn’t mean it like…. THAT! Platonically!

I shook my head to stay focused. I decided against looking further into the perks, not wanting to further abuse my mind with philosophical ramblings. I changed the screen, and it showed what looked like the inside of a cottage. Something straight out of a fairytale’s illustrations. It was pretty nice to look at, but I was kind of worried on what would be on it.

I had a good right to be.

On the top of the screen it slithered down. A long, snake-like body with miss-matched body parts looking right at me, wearing what looked like a maid’s outfit. He was cleaning and dusting the cottage, and I could hear his whistling from the screen. I thought little of it at first, poking at him on the screen, moving him around to watch his reaction. It was fun, till…

“Alright, Ragdoll, you’ve had your fun. Now sit yourself down on the Fat Man’s lap and behave yourself!” He half-yelled at me as I felt an unnatural pressure making me sit in Jerry’s lap. “I’m going to set some guidelines for you. No messing with the Pip-Boy is the first one, got it?”

I didn’t have the option to resist my head from nodding in agreement.

“Good. Secondly, no talking about this to anyone who doesn’t know about me. And I mean this, literally no talking. Won’t give you a chance to blow it. Understood?”

“Hai…” I said in a heavily accented, not-me voice.

“And thirdly, you make sure to keep the girls off his jiblies, alright? If he gets sexed up, he’ll die… Side effect of having awesome, next generation Pip-boys on your wrists, I’m afraid.” He said with a smirk on his face. I blushed a bit harder, and found myself unable to say anything untill the thing slid out of sight, leaving me wondering, and saying aloud…

“What the Fuck just happened?”

////////////////////

Dumbass and I walked through the streets of Buck’it Town without any problems. Our weapons where a great detractor to keep the stupider jackasses from attacking us, while I kept the (relitivly) smarter elements from getting the best of us with the use of minimal force and tactical strikes.

“Please stop kicking me in the balls!” The blonde haired human begged as his voice reached new, higher ranges that he ever knew of as he floated behind me. Whump! His body fell to the ground like a puppet with it’s strings cut.

“Then stop trying to take our caps.”

“Yes sir…” he squeaked as we left him curled up in a ball for his friends to look after. Dumbass was barely able to keep himself from laughing at the human piñata as he followed close behind me.

“Sunday, you think that they said that as an insult, or an honest mistake?” He said with a chuckle. I gave him a shove as we neared our destination, my smile the only proof I gave him that I wasn’t mad at him… yet.

“If they start more shit, you can ask him yourself.”

We stood at the store front, and saw a familiar looking face berating someone inside. The fat, red coated yet short stallion managed to stare down the taller, and obviously more powerful mare guard as he lifted up a piece of paper and brought her attention to the bill.

“... I swear by the Sun’s Blood, that if you keep on acting like a piss stain when your out in the bar, I won’t just fire you. I’ll fucking toss you to…” he stopped at he looked at us, then smirked. “I’ll toss you to Bloody Sunday. She’s a nasty butch wanna-be who’ll punch the ever loving shit out of ya. And don’t get me started on her partner there. He’d probablly bend you over and-“

“Fatass! What the actual Fuck!?” Dumbass butted in in slight anger and embarrassment. The guard, a bit more than confused, was shoed away outside to the door as we walked forward.

“I’ve got to keep my employees in line, Dumbass. And if anyone should be angry, it should be me. You guys go out for three months without saying “hello” to Good ol’ Fatty?” He was trying hard to win me and DA over.

It halfway worked.

“Well, sorry about that, Fatass. We’ve just been real busy with helping The Boss. We haven’t had the time to really come and see you.” DA stumbled as he talked with his childhood friend. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but… have you heard from Badass and Smartass recently?”

Fatass’ smile faltered as he turned back to his counter, where his guns where laid out in maticulous order, with mods and ammo boxes nearby. “Smartass is doing alright… he’s been helping some folks up north near Broken Heart. He said he might have found a shard.” He explained with an exagerated sigh. DA smiled as he heard the news, till it slowly fell.

“What about Badass?”

Fatass took out a scroll and tossed it to DA. “Here. Read for yourself.”

DA slowly unfurlled it and began to read it. I was close enough to read the paragraph near the end.

“ We are running low on food, water is being rationed, and the Enclave Outcast’s are losing a lot of ground to Unity forces. Not from a lack of trying, but because the faux alicorns don’t want to fight fair. Every time we kill their troops, they collect all the parts they can, stitch them back together, and reanimate them. The humans of Zenith have been hit hard with the Rage spells, cutting our forces down by ten percent. Our CO has been trying to hide the mini nuke launcher in his tent. We know that he plans on leaving us and the people without the means to protect ourselves, hoping the lone griffon with a pack filled with blood stained gems and caps can get by either unnoticed by Unity because of the larger population of “convertee’s”, or simply being too afraid to fight against a Fat Man toting mad-grif.

I don’t know if I’m going to make it out of this, Fatass. I know you’ll be in Buck’ Et Town, as will Wiseass. Tell the others as soon as you can. If you don’t hear from me in five months, It’s because I’m dead.

If that’s the case, remember the good times. I wish I could end this better, but I just can’t think of it right now. Don’t give Wiseass any grief, alright?

See ya later,

Badass.”

DA looked at the letter, doing his best to hide his tears as he handed it back to Fatass. “How long ago did you get it?”

“Three months ago… but word is that Zenith was flattened. Kenny’s dead, Dumbass. Just accept it.” Fatass said pretty bluntly as he rolled the scroll back up. “The Jew took it pretty well.” Fatass’ smile looked sadder, and for a brief second, forced his eyes to focus on DA. “If you guys want, I’m planning on going to the bar for a bit. He should be done with his shit.”

DA wanted to argue, I could tell, but I put a hoof on his shoulder. Fatass was a lot more hurt by this than he put on. He didn’t need a debate. He needed a friend. He looked at me, and I sighed.

“We’ll go when we finish our buisness here.” I turned to Fatass, smirking. “We’ve got crap to sell to you.” I lifted the backpack on my back with my magic and set it on the counter behind Fatass as I walked over to it. The look on his face showed that I had his attention. Anything to be there for DA. Hopfully he doesn’t take it too hard.

////////////////////////////////

I’m back…

In the dark, scary room…

And I’m pretty sure I see eyes looking at me from the shadows.

“Fricken Discord…” I say as I look at my hand to notice Discord looking at the shadows, looking… perturbed.

“Don’t give me that, Fat Boy. You didn’t notice the sign hanging right in front of you.” He defended himself with logic and concise reasoning, which made me worry. For the longest of seconds, I looked back at the darkness, hoping beyond hope that I didn’t see those red eyes looking back at me, wanting to rip my flesh from my bones.

“… what’s going on.” I ask as I finally regain the ability to talk.

“A few Discords came back, but I don’t think they are the kind you really want to meet.” He said in a refrained manner. Again, scary crap when Chaos incarnate is trying to keep a low profile.

“Is that the Lover I smell?” A familiar hiss could be heard as Discord… MY Discord, I suppose… flinched as though as if his name was thrown into his face.

I saw a figure in the darkness, slithering about just outside the light as yellowish/red eyes glowed back at us.

“You know damn well who I am, Idol.” Discord said as I noticed that the serpentine body was far from the smaller sized giant python body I expected. The section I saw must have been about as thick as a small car, and the scraping of claws on the floor sent chills up my spine. But it was when the head showed itself when it hit me.

How do you describe terror and madness in one face? It looked vaugely like the Discord I liked, that I knew, but it was lined with horns and thorns. His eyes where feline-like, and his teeth where pearly white with splotches of crimson. His smile, though…

I turned away from him, closing my eyes as I found myself panting with terror.

I wanted Randle Flag back.

“No… you don’t.” The voice… The Idol… said in his hissed way. I had thought that only Discord could read my thoughts, but I was wrong… or was I right? This was, for all intents and purposes a Discord. I suppose it doesn’t matter.

“Your right.” Discord said as he locked eyes with the monstrous version of himself. “It doesn’t matter. Idol, what brings you here? I had thought that your wishes where to be left alone in your “kingdom”. “Discord said with no shortage of courage, considering he was one step away from being a Muppet.

Idol’s smile vanished quickly as he looked at Discord. “My Kingdom is dead. And it was not by my hands.” His head slowly leaned forward, and I began to see his diseased neck, filled with sickening sores and what I thought where tumors, only to make out the faces of humans, ponies and other creatures filled with pain and a similar horror I had felt just looking at the horror.

“Serves you right, abomination.” A chuckle, one filled by hundreds of voices, entered my mind. I slowly turned and was met by eyes. Billions of eyes, and an impossibly wide mouth with untold numbers of teeth surrounded my vision, and I knew what and where I remembered this version of Discord. If I was in my body, my trousers would have been darkened.

“Scholar, none of that!” Discord actually SCOLDED the Scholar, and I swear… I think that I am just… just… wow… I think my brain broke.

“No, just read your mind to get the gist of who you are, Jerry Stein. And thank you, I do my best.”

Discord looked at me, almost glaring.

“Don’t look at me like that. I like X-Com. And the guy who wrote the fic did a great job at conveying absolute horror of the unknown. I had NO idea that he was actually real.”

“Suck up.” Discord sighed as he looked over at both of them. “Look… I don’t know what is going on. I’ve been in a computer for God knows how long…” Idol began to grin, only for Discord to bring a hand up. “No. None of that. I don’t need that right now.” Discord said as he straightened himself out. “I need-“

“No.” Idol said with a growl. “I barely have enough Chaotic energy to maintain this form on this realm. I’m waiting for one of my cults to give sacrifices so I can actually resettle someplace else, so I have to keep my energy rationed. Noticed that I didn’t try and turn your fat friend into one of those… oh, what are those little furry creatures called? Eat a lot, have no gentiles, but multiply like mad.”

It’s at this moment, I did a stupid thing. One of the greatest stupid things I have ever done in my life. I talked to the demonic spawn of some talkshow hosts with a major dragon fetish.

“Internet trolls?”

“JERRY, NO!”

Ever felt your mind breaking and reforming several dozen times in an instant? I did. It hurt. Not as much as you might think, though. But it still hurt.

Now, you’ll ask how I managed to survive that. Well, part of it was Discord. I couldn’t tell if the Scholar did anything to me, but I didn’t feel anything else.

Maybe that was for the better.

“Keep. Quiet. He doesn’t have any qualms with shattering your brain just because you gave a better quip than he had.” He turned back to The Idol, growling at him. “And YOU! You know that The Balance would hunt you down these corridors and any realm you go to if you do try and break my Host Body!”

“Correction, Lover… your host is a glorified wrist watch.” The Idol said once more, raising his head up as his claws spread out, showing him to be several stories tall and wide, and I still doubt I’ve seen him stretch to his fullest. “The fat one is simply a conduit. I could kill him with a swipe of my claw, and The Balance wouldn’t raise a finger.”

“True… but I would.” The Scholar interjected as he rose to meet The Idol’s gaze. “And the difference is that I have a surplus of energy. I don’t have any intention of giving this one a handout, but I won’t let you kill such a wonderfully demented mind, either. Besides, you’ve already had your fun with him. It wouldn’t be right to take away the fun for our brothers and sisters, don’t you think?”

The Idol glared at The Scholar. The seconds felt like hours. It wasn’t until The Idol pulled away from the light that I finally realized I was holding my breath.

Wait… this is supposed to be, like, the “Realm of the mind” or some crap like that, right? Why do I breath? I mean, honestly, my lungs aren’t even really here. It’s like my brain is saying “I’m used to breathing, so I better make sure it seems like I’m breathing, despite the lack of any organs. Enjoy.”

“Will you stop it with that? It’s ridiculous.” Discord hissed at me with annoyance. I sighed and slumped my shoulders as he continued, looking up at the two titans. “We’ve gotten off subject a bit… if it is alright with the both of you, may we continue? I wouldn’t want to keep you further.” He said sassily to the two. I’m not exactly sure it was wise to poke at these demi-gods, but what do I know? I’m just a fat guy who likes a show about multi-colored horses!

The two shifted their gaze down at Discord, and… and they began to twist and change. It didn’t take long for them to revert to their… well, I’ll just call it “default setting” to be safe, and both wore on their chests a sticker with their respective names, which was the only way to tell them apart now. The more I looked at them, the more I realized something.

What if Discord’s shape… the one in my Pip-boy, mind you… what if he really looks very different than what I see him as?

And… what would it take to release that form?

Considering that their “true forms” had nothing to do with their Names, who knows what Discord really looked like.

As that thought hit me, I realized that I wasn’t hearing the three’s conversation any longer. Not in the sense that there wasn’t any noise, but it was as if they had made the noise I heard gibberish. I stood there and waited, not knowing what was going on, and the words being said making me feel like I was being brought a hair’s width from madness.

Or, you know… dropping me in the middle of Friday night at Wal-mart. It’s pretty much the same feeling, really.

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203 years before…

Donut Joe stood at the mirror at his home, straightening his tie with his magic. It was something he didn’t, exceptionally, like to do, but it was something he learned to do. One of the drawbacks of being the owner of your own business, even if it is a bakery, was the need to look sharp when you need to get a loan from a bank. He looked at his suit, and couldn’t help but smile as he remembered when he met one of Pinkie’s friends during a train ride to a bake-off in Canterlot. A very attractive unicorn that just exuded sophistication. She suggested that he should wear suits, saying he would look “dashing” in a tuxedo.

He was simply going to see friends that he hadn’t seen in years. Nothing as nerve wracking as getting a loan or looking good for a business deal here or there. But he still felt his nerves shake him as he put on his saddle bag and headed towards the door. He had an hour to get to Speedy’s apartment, which gave him just enough time to get a gift for his kids.

As he walked, he thought to himself about New Pittsburg. Since the morning he saw his old friend, Speedy, he saw the problems that where popping up in his loved home town. He saw a few stories in the newspaper about some poor bastard that was found beaten half to death right at the front of a synagogue. Some ponies thought it was the local human centric gangs that where doing some “cleaning up amongst the rabble”, as one bigoted earth pony said before he found himself being “accidentally” hit by a rock in the back of the head.

Joe didn’t do it, but he would have liked to of known who it was so he could give them a free six pack and a years supply of donuts. Yet, he digressed as his attention went to a man in a black trench coat and a matching fedora. He was about to walk past, when he noticed the man’s hand.

An almost scab-like complexion with flakes dropping down with every curling of his hand, the overpowering smell of mint that hid another scent from Joe’s more delicate nose. Before he could dismiss any of this as an early Nightmare’s Night prank, he heard the heavy breathing and noticed the swaying from the man’s stance. A ghoul that was suffering the last few stages of Elysium Sickness.

“Are you alright, sir?” He knew the answer as he walked to the man’s side, but he had to ask. The ghoul looked down at him, blinking with a smile. Joe returned the smile, a tinge of sadness as he looked up at him. “Would you like to sit down?”

“Yeah… thanks…” The sick man said as Joe let him lean against him. The two of them walked across the street to the nearest bench, where a group of children, one being the little girl from days ago, her wide, innocent eyes filled with worry as she walked over.

Joe sat next to the man and looked over at the girl standing, staring at the man. “H-hey, kiddo, why don’t you go and tell your mom to call the hosp-“

The Ghoul shook his head as he waved. “No. No hospitals.” His garbled voice was weak, but not filled with any worry. A strange phenomenon that happened as the radiation inside of a Ghoul’s body was being converted to magic was that instead of a body’s instinct to find radiation and feed driving the Ghoul feral, the body was being fed Magic energy, something the body could not use, but would sate their hunger. Normally, Ghouls would only spend a few weeks on this side of the gate without any adverse effects. Some Ghouls found the idea of a peaceful death in a beautiful world to be better than life in the Wastelands.

“Are you okay, mister?” The child asked as she walked closer to them.

Joe wanted to stop her, to chase her off, but as the man’s face turned to look at the child, he smiled warmly. “Did you know I helped with making this city?” he said with a happy sigh.

Joe couldn’t help himself as he chuckled. “We don’t even know your name, buddy.” He said as tactfully as he could.

“Huh… could have sworn I said it.” He blinked as he looked up at the buildings around him. “Just call me Zomboni… a stage name I had before The War.” He smiled down at the girl again. “Before your people where around, I was just a singer. Worked in The Green when it was just a bunch of ruins covered in moss as a lounge singer in an ugly bar. Got caught up in the fighting, and saw the Portal flicker to life. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He coughed a bit as he looked over at Joe. “Your people… God bless the lot of you, you all saved us from ourselves. You compare a human from here to one from the Wastes, and you’d see the difference almost immediately.” He chuckled a little bit, and began to cough.

Joe patted the man on the back as he noticed Zomboni take out a cigarette and put it in his mouth. “You know… before I turned into a Ghoul, I had cancer. Was given a few months. That was the day right before the bombs fell. I think I can say I beat the damn thing.” He chuckled again, smoke shooting out of his mouth in large puffs.

Joe finally shooed the little girl and the other children away as Zomboni took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

“How long?”

“Just a few more hours… but knowing my luck, I’ll probably last a few more years like this.” Zomboni said, his cigarette dancing on his lips as he took a few more puffs, letting the ashes fly with the night wind.

Joe sat with Zomboni, and only left after Zomboni died and his remains where taken by the city mortician. A policeman, an Earth Pony hybrid with golden orange coat, stood next to Joe as he took his statement.

“Did you know the gentleman?” The officer asked.

“No… never met him before in my life.” Joe said as a tear fell down his cheek.

The officer’s face hardened a little bit as he looked at him. “Then… why did you stay with him?” An honest question. Joe’s mind was stuck on one moment in his life.

“My mom… told me about when she worked on the other side. She was a cook at a restaurant. Her boss was a Ghoul named Gob. One of the nicest guys you’d ever meet, according to her. A former slave, a lot of shit happening to him. He didn’t talk too much about his past, but it was pretty bad. He was there for Mom and Dad when they were saving up bits to come back over to start their own business. He gave them a loan, and everything.” He gave a sad smile as he looked at the bench.

The officer nodded, hiding his own sad smile as he wrote something in a pad of paper. “So… do you know his name at least?”

“He called himself Zomboni.”

The police officer smiled and chuckled at that as he finished writing down the statement. “Heh… that would be something. I remember doing a report about the Battle of the Arch. The Ghoul Charge was one of those things I remember the most from it. If he was a part of The Charge, then he deserved a nice, quiet death.” The police officer tore a piece of paper from his note book and handed it to Joe. “I’ll get in touch with you later, sir. If you have any questions, here is the number to the local police precinct. They’ll be able to answer any questions you may have.” And with that, he left Joe.

Joe stood, looking at the bench as the hours passed. A sudden recollection of the dinner had hit him, and he cursed himself as he debated whether he should go to Speedy’s home or to go home. He decided to go to Speedy’s home, in the hopes of apologizing if they were still awake, maybe even rescheduling, but as he got to the street that they lived on, he was met by Speedy sitting on the steps, smoking a cigarette.

He walked to his friend’s side, sitting next to him as Speedy took out a carton, and pulled a cig for Joe. Joe took the cigarette and put it in his mouth, and took a deep drag. They sat there, Speedy and Joe not saying a word to each other as they looked at the streets and the night sky.