Storm.

All around me, chaotically churning sand and dust swirled and shifted and raged violently in the howling wind of the storm. It was constricting, thick, and it even gave the air itself a malevolent reddish ochre color that showed no signs of altering. Even through my full-body combat armor and the metal helmet covering my head, cheeks, and muzzle, I felt on my own hide as the sand pelted away at the protective plates, the wind smashing against them to try and make me stumble in my walk. And with this furious sandy tempest, tainted red-orange light shined down from a distorted and seemingly freckled sphere of pale illumination in the sky, the sand traveling on the powerful gusts working to conceal what should’ve been Celestia’s beautiful sun from the surface of this forsaken place… this place that was nothing whatsoever like the place I wanted to be in – my home. Merciful Luna… my home was nothing like this blasted ruin. Calm winds, pleasant temperatures, gentle rain showers, and thriving vegetation were just some of the many things about home that I missed as I pushed through the dust; here though… it was almost nightmarishly different. Perhaps what it had once been was something that I could’ve compared to my home, but even that seemed like a longshot, especially given what I had seen and how very little I knew about what this place actually was. No. All I knew was that it was a particularly blasted and violent landscape… some shadow of Equestria’s history… and in my humble opinion, it was no place for a Private of the Talon Legion.

For whatever reason, command had not bothered to provide me with any specific details as to my objective… they didn’t even provide me a name for this place. In fact, not the military bigwigs nor the Hayward City Council could have possibly made a more obnoxious situation for me. Freshly graduated from basic training, I had only been given four days with my parents, my little sister, and my marefriend before I had received my very first assignment from my superiors – a scouting mission. Once I had gotten word of this, I was immediately sent to the officers coordinating this assignment and then rushed off to where our forces outside the fighting in the Equestrian southeast were gathering. Company after company had been marching out of Hayward for days on end once the war with our old enemies in Challenger was back on, and with only a desolate wasteland between the mapped borders of Challenger’s territory and The Halo, with sparse population clusters scattered in between, our forces met no conflict en route to the Equestrian southeast. And while over half of the companies that had left Hayward behind marched south into the fighting, the one I had traveled with was one of those that were assigned to set up a staging area for some sort of operation outside the warzone; in their good grace, the brass left me out of the loop on this operation of theirs as well, all the while making me a part of the damn thing.

No. What I had come to find out about all of this on my own was very limited. I learned first that there was something in the southeast, something outside the war effort, which interested the Legion commanders and the Hayward Council. And having decided that the city had maintained a high enough population, they were more than willing to throw a couple new companies’ worth of ponies outside Challenger’s sphere of influence, and then some. I had then learned that this new area of interest, curiously, sat just outside the southeast’s mapped out perimeter. From Challenger’s sister settlement of Ashton, the western edge of this newly discovered area sat only about a nine to ten hours’ walk away, and from our staging ground that we had chosen, the distance to familiar territory was almost double that.

This was when I was finally able to acquire some concrete facts about this discovery that the Legion had made. It had been just over two weeks ago when a Talon griffin had stumbled across this uncharted region on a patrol flight, deciding to scout out the sandstorm anomaly beyond Ashton while the main force was concentrated in Marefax in preparation for Hayward’s Second Campaign. The initial reports said that the clouds of sand and dust had cloaked an unimaginably huge area, making a storm system that spanned for miles to the west and an unknown many more miles to the south. That alone was enough to draw concern, creating the possibility of ignoring the area outright and devoting all the Legion’s assets to the war in the southeast. But even before crossing into the sandstorm, the first and subsequent arrivals to the site had reported debris and scattered rubble, landmarks thinly layered on the surface, and within the dust itself, the black silhouette of a massive skyline of some Old World city that had sat almost fully concealed. That was when the leadership gave the order to move in, and within hours, the Legion had confirmed their observations, setting hoof into a large city called Harbinger… or rather, what was left of it.

Harbinger was the sight of a balefire detonation, the city having been leveled by a zebra missile on the Last Day like most major Equestrian cities. However, it was quickly discovered that there was something different about it… something rather ominous… that sole difference being that there had not been a single living thing within the rather vast expanse of its ruins. There was nothing that I had been warned of when my company had entered the city, no feral ghouls, no tribals, no raiders, and no mutated creatures… quite contrary to that of Marefax. In Harbinger, there had only been scattered radiation pockets, roads and buildings that were immediately avoided because of the necromantic pink cloud that had been found thickly concentrated closer to the city skyline, and of course, the roaring sandstorm. But this was all that I had encountered upon my own arrival to the city two days ago; before the Talons, nothing alive had lived among the ashes of the city.

Now, with an unfortunately minimal amount of rest between my arrival and the present, I was already on the move… except this time, I was on my own as one of the Talons’ advance scouts, and the environment had changed drastically. In my short debriefing before my departure from our command post in Harbinger, I had been given very little information to go on. All I had been issued was a pipbuck with both a local and general map as well as a set of programmed destination coordinates and a map marker to guide my way. And all that had been said to me was that between Harbinger and my objective was an open wasteland, a field of sand and dust like the southeast. But that was until the other scouts had brought in the reports of their initial observations, several of the teams telling of a pair of highway systems, two separate skyways built at least a hundred yards above the surface that had once carried wagon traffic from the city out to unknown destinations; one of these rolled out to the south, and the other to the southwest.

The latter of these skyways was the road I had taken up to this point. It was the only route that was available to use without leaving the region entirely and getting lost, as the scouts’ reports had also noted a lethal radiation wall between Harbinger’s southwestern border and the open wasteland, some of which lingered in the city itself. This immediately made the open fields beyond a hazard zone that everypony was forbidden to travel through. Even on this highway I had taken to pass it by – nicknamed Griffin’s Bridge by the other scouts – radiation was a constant problem to me, and I found myself going through the majority of the medical supplies I had been issued just to keep myself from absorbing a fatal dosage. However, curiously enough, I had been able to sustain myself along the way by scavenging. Griffin’s Bridge was the site, or rather the final resting place, of countless Old World vehicles, wrecked chariots and other wagons of various sizes and purposes that had clustered in periodic traffic clogs along the old highway. But along the way, I had also found other more curious things – medical wagons with faded blue symbols on their equipment, armored vehicles with delivery documentation for their weapon and munitions crates, and even multiple wrecked air units, both Equestrian vertibucks as well as aircraft of the zebra make, reconnaissance vessels and armed versions of them. There was never a moment on that highway where a vehicle was not in front of me, beside me, or behind me, and where chunks of the road had collapsed to the ground below sat even more wrecked wagons partly buried under the irradiated earth; Griffin’s Bridge was one massive graveyard for hundreds, if not thousands of vehicles.

But finally, after several hours, the highway begun to lower in a gradual downward slope back to the surface, and what had once been nothing but ash and dirt and radiation was replaced with the ruined hulks of buildings formerly hidden in the blowing dust. At first sight, this place already showed itself as a stark contrast from the city under Talon occupation, as I had immediately encountered structures that extended high up, the tops completely concealed within the dust like the buildings of the skyline in Harbinger. There were no suburban districts separating the new buildings from the wasteland beyond either, and what was more than this was that I had instantly found myself facing tremendous obstacles in the terrain. Griffin’s Bridge had ended on a wide street, and though two large buildings flanked it, both buildings that had once been their neighbors farther down the road had fully collapsed on themselves, burying the street under a mound of rubble and forcing me to climb over it to continue forward. Beyond that, I had found that another skyscraper had likewise fallen, but instead of collapsing entirely, had toppled over against the building parallel to it across the street, leaning against it and creating a deadly archway over the road. And then, beyond that, I had lost the street entirely, the whole thing concealed under a high layer of rubble, twisted metal, and wrecked vehicles, both land and air, that spread out in every direction. For several minutes, formerly standing structures made the terrain itself, which was spaced only with the decapitated husks of more buildings, those that had collapsed upon themselves and had lost most of their floors, but not enough to be completely leveled. Those dead structures were my landmarks, allowing me to follow where roads had used to sit, until I had finally found another street unburied by collapsed towers. That road, and the others I had walked upon up to this point, was the only thing that brought a similarity between this place and Harbinger. Harbinger was a ruined city, of course, and it was marked with plenty of wrecked buildings of its own that was the consequence of a balefire strike. However, this city I now found myself in showed far more excessive damage than Harbinger, with over three-fourths of what had formerly been a downtown sector (at least that of which I had walked through) being completely destroyed, leveled to the ground to make an almost impassible maze of demolished Old World architecture; the greater majority of Harbinger’s streets were at least still visible and traversable.

Now I was walking along one of this city’s unburied urban streets, moving on a westerly course as I finally neared my pipbuck’s waypoint. At this point, leaving that graveyard at my back, I was traversing a new portion of the city’s downtown sector whose structures had both shortened and spread out, creating a number of debris-littered yards and other clearings. Though these buildings still spaced out along either side of the street like before, they had amounted to only between ten to fifteen stories each. The tops of these structures were hard enough to see in the thick swirling dust, but the silhouettes were still visible, and they ended just above where I could physically see the details of each building. And yet with this, I couldn’t help but think to myself, as I had continuously done throughout the past several hours, as to how such a powerful sandstorm like this could exist, let alone span across the entire distance of at least six hours of walking. The sandstorm had accompanied me without pause, mercilessly churning around me and, on more than one occasion, threatening to make me lose my way. Hell, without my pipbuck, I would have likely gotten lost anyway, and would’ve almost certainly never found my way back. In Harbinger, the dust and wind had been bearable, the storm thinner, and our forces within had been able to move with relative ease, encountering fewer obstructions and only minor hindrances from the weather. But over the course of the past few hours, the sandstorm had seemed to amplify its strength at least threefold, the wind gradually intensifying as I had progressed along Griffin’s Bridge and into this unknown city while the sand itself darkened to this reddish color from its former yellow-brown state. By now it had to have been early to midafternoon, bringing up the very real threat of having to traverse this sandstorm during the dark of night… but then again, with how this storm spanned for miles and still remained strong throughout the entirety of the day… there was the possibility of having to find a place to hide out and sleep within this ruin tonight as well; I wasn’t overly fond of either option.

A particularly strong gust of wind revived my attention from my thoughts, and I brought my eyes forward once more. But right away I found myself jumping with a start as a metal post just ahead of me crashed down onto the concrete. The same blast of air had knocked down a bent streetlight, adding the clang of the blackened metal against the cracked concrete to the distant groans and rumbles that occasionally sounded through the symphony of wind and shifting sand. Taking the opportunity that stopping had presented, I raised my left foreleg to check over my pipbuck’s local map. On the display screen, I was very close to the waypoint now, with only a short distance on this street and then a quick walk through two more roads plus a large clearing separating my target location from me; perhaps just another few minutes of this would get me there.

But now that I was close, I needed to take a moment to rest, just long enough for me to ease away some of the burn in my hooves from my nonstop walking, to let myself recuperate and to get a drink of water. But more importantly, I needed to find out if I could get in touch with my superiors and inform them of where I was. With any luck, they would have some more information about this place that I’d be able to use. I was still very much in the dark about my objective; simply telling me to go somewhere and then kicking me out the door was not the most informative of mission directives.

Looking left and then right, I scanned along the street at the buildings I could see. The majority of these structures had become so deteriorated that portions of their walls had fallen out to liter the street and the surrounding yards. Even though they remained standing, they were full of structural holes and weaknesses, likely putting them into a state of near collapse. It seemed a miracle to me that any of them were still standing in this gale, and though perhaps a little more exploration would’ve warranted a better shelter from the blowing sand, I moved instead across the left lanes of the street to what looked to be the strongest of the buildings in the immediate vicinity. Being one of the few whose entrance hadn’t been entirely clogged off due to collapsed rubble, it was really the only option presented to me.

I took it greedily, trotting the rest of the way across the street and inside the building through the collapsed metal door that had once sealed it. Like the rest of the road I had walked up to this point, not a single living thing was present inside the wrecked remains of this building’s entrance chamber. At first sight, the room was rather sizeable, with the walls on both sides of me spread several yards apart and the ceiling at least three pony-length’s high. A tattered carpet of near colorless fabric was rolled out from the lip of the entrance to the front of what remained of a rectangular lobby counter. Behind the bulky wooden reception desk was another wall, at either side of which were entrances to another chamber further back. But despite my eagerness to get out of the direct path of the gale outside, I found myself pausing in my stride as I traced along the walls. Both the right and left walls were lined with windows, the glass having shattered long ago to litter the floor with shards of varying sizes, leaving only rectangular openings for the sand and the wind to whip and churn through the room. But on the far wall, somehow having remained attached despite the storm, were two picture frames facing me from their place above the desk. Both of them were rather portable, no larger than a newspaper, and both looked to be modified with a protective glass cover built to shelter the pictures inside. The frame on the left had not survived the years and years of weathering, the glass shield having also shattered and the picture inside no more than a dead sheet of wrinkled and colorless paper. However, the frame on the right was still intact, glass shield and all, and as I approached, I saw the picture inside…

The perfectly preserved picture, rich with color, that was inside.

Trotting towards the desk I focused on the item, my horn flaring up with light as I wrapped the frame in an orange telekinetic glow. With a quick tug the frame came loose and floated down towards me, the old screws once holding it there falling to the floor. As the picture hovered down to my visor, I came to a stop to let myself take in the rather out-of-place scene that was trapped within this violent and grim sandstorm. The picture was an aerial photograph that showed to me a city sitting at peace beneath a young golden sunrise, a large metropolis with a sprawling skyline whose buildings were glowing bright from their countless light sources both within and without. A large cluster of mighty skyscrapers made the heart of this city, with spaced shorter towers shaping an outer ring around them, together making the city’s downtown sector which sat as, considering its position relative to the rising sun, the city’s eastern side. And finally, sprawling outward to the west of these buildings and stretching down all the way to the base of the picture itself was a great expanse of houses, shops, and a myriad of other suburban and city structures – market centers, factories, warehouses, public transportation stations, city utility plants, and much more – all arranged into neat city blocks.

“So,” I mumbled, reaching up a hoof to trace along the picture frame’s right side. “maybe this was what this place once looked like?” Either that, or perhaps Harbinger… although, looking at the picture more closely, I spotted an interesting detail, an addition of the aerial image that had previously been hidden from me behind the city skyline. There were highways, two of them that branched out at an acute angle from the city’s east end, one stretching out to the northeast, and the second one to the southeast. Both of these highways were built on stone pillars that suspended them above the ground, a sprawling expanse of lush grassy meadowland that seemed to roll out into the sun itself. “Now I definitely know I’ve walked on one of those highways.” I observed aloud to myself.

Griffin’s Bridge.

Griffin’s Bridge had to have been one of those skyways in the portrait. Yes. Having traveled southwest, I could see the road I’d walked to get here, and I knew for certain that this picture was definitely a portrait preserving the spirit of this place. “I’ve got to say, it’s a far sight better in this picture than what it is now.” In fact, seeing this city as it had been made during Equestria’s wartime era, or pre-war era, made me think of my own home, the city of the canyon ring, city in The Halo… but thinking of home wouldn’t get me any closer to finishing my task. I had to stop dwelling now, prevent it from getting in the way of my focus, at least until I was done here and out of this wretched sandstorm.

With a grunt, I turned my head to look to my right-side saddlepack, opening the flap to set the picture inside before closing it back up. Right afterwards, there came a short chirp from my pipbuck, and raising the computer up to see, I found my inventory screen displayed with a new item added at the very bottom of the alphabetized list –Trinity Sunrise. But though I noted the addition, I moved on, looking toward the top of the far wall and reaching a hoof up to my helmet’s lower jaw plate. There was a single switch there at its base, small, but large enough to be felt at the pass of a hoof. And flipping it, the jaw plate fell free and swung down on its hinge built into the front of the helmet, and with the plate cleared, I fired up my horn again to lift the helmet up and off my head.

I was immediately assaulted by the blowing sand that passed through the room’s windows, the grains like dozens of tiny needles that stung at my right cheek. It forced me to turn away, putting my back to the airstream even as I let out an involuntary grunt of surprise, momentarily shielding my eyes with my right foreleg. Then, setting my helmet at my side on the floor, I sat myself down on my haunches and raised my pipbuck back up, using my horn to call up my communications screen. According to the display, my channel was still open and my pipbuck was actively broadcasting my signal. But the narrower waves of gold light crossing the screen showed me that it was a weak and unstable link, and that its strength had been deteriorating for at least the past few hours; it wasn’t promising, but I had to try to call somepony… I was tired of radio silence.

“Harbinger Base… this is Traveler Seven Seven…” Over the sounds of the storm, I could only barely hear the static that answered my call. And listening close, that static was all that responded to me for several seconds. “Harbinger Base, this is Traveler Seven Seven!” I repeated, speaking up to combat the weather. “Colonel, do you read me?”

“Traveler Seven Seven, this is Colonel Seras Silverwing.” Over the shaky coms signal came a firm authoritative female voice, the griffin commander of the Talon forces operating in Harbinger; her words were a welcome sound over the hours of silence that had preceded them. “Have you reached your waypoint yet, Tinderbox?”

Flinching as a sharp gust of sand brushed over my muzzle, nearly catching me in the eyes, I replied, “Ma’am… according to my pipbuck, I should only be a few minutes out now. But… Goddesses, I don’t know how it is back at base, but this sandstorm’s really picked up over here… And, well, frankly I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I’ve been out here for hours and all I have to go by is this map marker.”

“Yes, I know, and I’d like to apologize for the lack of proper intel at your debriefing.” the Colonel responded. “But I’m afraid that there’s a reason for that, and it’s because my fellow officers and I know just as much about this region as you or anyone else does. That’s to say, we know almost nothing about it.”

Well, at least she was being honest. “Have you possibly gathered any additional information on the region, ma’am?” I questioned hopefully.

“We actually have. You called at just the right time, because another scout recently brought back some new information about what exactly this region is on her last patrol.” the Colonel answered. “She found some preserved documentation in the ruins of a city administration site that describes both Harbinger itself and the region that it was built upon. It’s not much to go on, but it still gives us a better understanding of things.”

“Anything on where I’m at right now?”

“Yes.” Seras replied. “According to the records, Harbinger is just one part of a vastly larger region that the pre-war and wartime denizens here called Arcadia. This region actually contains three cities built roughly twenty miles apart from each other, all of them connected together by a system of highways. The one you took to get to your current location, Griffin’s Bridge, ties Harbinger to a city the records call Trinity, and both of these are similarly connected to the region’s third city – Haven. On the map that the scout returned to me, we discovered that the three cities and their bridging highways were built in such a way as to shape a perfect triangle, with each city making one of its points. And within the perimeter that the highways made was nothing but an uninhabited grassland that the ponies living here preserved. This was the composition of the region before the bombs fell, but we still have no idea how this sandstorm came to be or how long it’s been around. I’d already held the belief that this weather had covered a great majority of this region, but with you telling me that the storm is even worse down there than it is in Harbinger, I think we can safely say that this storm is one big weather anomaly that blankets all of Arcadia.”

“So I must be in the city of Trinity then.” I observed in reply, glancing back to my saddlebag where my newly acquired picture rested. “I found an undamaged picture of this city, Colonel, an aerial photo of what it looked like long ago. It’s not much, but at least it’s something until I find what I’m actually supposed to be looking for.”

“Regarding that, I have a little more intel for you, something that will make your assignment clear.” the Colonel said. “I initially held back some information before you left because it didn’t amount to a reliable source to follow. But with these new reports, I’ve managed to establish a couple facts. The first of these is that both Harbinger and Haven were built before the outbreak of the war, but Trinity was constructed during the wartime era as the third and final Arcadian installation, completing this network of coexisting cities. And secondly, Trinity was recorded to have been the city of the three that was built with the purpose of providing an efficient means for this region to fight effectively in the war with the zebras. This is where you come in, Private.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Military, ma’am?”

“Yes. One of the uncovered dossiers carried a pair of files on the city layout of Trinity itself.” she explained. “Trinity is, in fact, one large base, the region’s center for wartime operations. The city is home to several war production factories, military installations, and weaponized fortifications, all built within its array of skyscrapers and suburban districts. We don’t yet know names or specifics on these facilities, nor do we know any locations… except one.”

“My waypoint?” I asked, the pieces clicking together as I followed the Colonel along.

“That’s right. Your waypoint is set within the general area of a supposed command site in Trinity called the Vanguard High Command Base. But more specifically, you’re waypoint is set with the intent of locating the general area of a facility within this base called the Broadsword Bunker. The file we uncovered about this bunker included its location in the base as well as a supply order for weapon parts, salvage, and tools that was to be loaded onto a military transport and sent to Harbinger from there. This is what leads me to believe that the Broadsword Bunker is a storage depot of some kind, maybe even an armory. Your mission is to find this base, locate the bunker within, and explore it to discover what exactly it is and to assess if it’s important enough for me to encourage the use of a larger force to sweep through Arcadia and gather resources for the war in the southeast. I’ve already made a case to General Vance about deploying a full brigade here because of Trinity and its role during the wartime era, but if he’s hesitant, I want to have a good wealth of information to back up my position on the matter. It’s my belief that Trinity will be an excellent trove for additional resources that we can use to sustain our campaign against Challenger, but the decision is ultimately the General’s. I still answer to him.”

“I understand, ma’am.” I replied, nodding as I took in her plan of action. “I guess that if the entire city was devoted to serving as a military base, then there’s bound to be weapons and other resources that haven’t been claimed or destroyed, sandstorm aside. And considering that I haven’t seen a single living soul along Griffin’s Bridge and now in Trinity thus far, I’m willing to hold tight to that belief.”

“Exactly. And we’ll need whatever we can scavenge out of Arcadia to fight Challenger.” the Colonel said back. “The region’s gotten stronger since the Talons last stepped hoof onto its territory, and that’s made Challenger even more of a threat than it already was. But you remember Hayward’s history – this campaign isn’t about territorial expansion, not like the last one. This is about taking action and acquire the means to eliminate every threat to Hayward and its citizens, both those that have already risen at home and those that only need time to do so outside our walls, and I’m not going to make the same mistake the Talon leaders did ten years ago and leave this region unexplored. The General may have his eyes set on Guardian, but my gut instinct tells me that we’re going to need more than even that, and I see Trinity as having the greatest potential to provide us with the tools we need to achieve victory both out here and at home. It’s my hope that you and the other scouts I’ve been sending out to explore will soon allow me to prove that to General Vance.”

To that, I gave her another nod. “I’ll get it done, Colonel.”

“Good.” came her reply. “When you arrive at your destination and you find this bunker, enter the facility and then contact me again to report whatever you find inside. Afterwards, you can make your way back to Harbinger via Griffin’s Bridge and return to headquarters. I’ve sent another scout from the Traveler unit towards Trinity to rendezvous with you out on the highway when you’ve completed your mission. You should meet each other around the halfway point of that road.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

“Good luck out there, Private.”

With that, my commanding officer closed the link, and I lowered away my pipbuck with a sigh as I looked around to my left-side saddlebag. “Well, at least I know what I’m looking for now.” Opening up my right-side saddlebag, I removed my issued canteen and levitated it to me, unscrewing the cap from the metal flask. “I just hope I can get out of here soon… even Harbinger’s better than this place.” I interrupted myself with my canteen, bringing the container to my lips to take a long drink from my water supply. Right after the first gulp came the familiar sound of my pipbuck’s geiger counter, a short series of clicks indicating the radiation levels within the water. Irradiated as it was, it was still the only water source I had after my purified supply ran out, coming directly from four water bottles I had scavenged from a wrecked cargo wagon on Griffin’s Bridge.

And now, I only had about a quarter of that supply left.

I floated the canteen away to keep myself from drinking too much in one sitting, screwing on the cap and tucking it away into its place in my saddlebag. “I’m going to have to scavenge around before I leave here.” I mumbled lowly, turning to my helmet and slowly lifting it back up off the floor. “Damn it…”

Then, a sudden gust of wind brought me away from my more apprehensive inner thoughts, making me flinch with a grunt as the sand tried once again to sting at my eyes. I brought my helmet back up above my head in response, quickly setting it back into place to give me relief from the sand. And then, lifting up the lower jaw plate and securing it to the collar of my combat armor, I stood back up to all fours and faced the entrance of my temporary shelter. “Time to move…” I muttered to myself, trotting forward as I telekinetically reached for the last addition of my gear. “Can’t turn back now… not when I’m so close.”

Exhaling, I stepped back out into the street, immediately reunited with the full force of the ongoing storm outside as I brought my weapon forward, letting it hover before my chest. The semi-automatic bullpup rifle I had been issued for this mission was a Talon hybrid weapon made in the homeland, constructed from a culmination of several wartime schematics that resulted in a compact, lightweight, yet powerful five-fifty-six caliber carbine that was swiftly working its way to becoming the Legion’s signature infantry weapon, one that would soon surpass its standard assault rifle ancestor stemming from the Old World Equestrian E91 rifle line. Everything with this rifle was set and ready, the thirty-round clip loaded in with another round in the chamber, the safety off. And while I hadn’t yet needed the rifle on this mission, or the combat knife that was sheathed and secured to my chest plate that made my fallback weapon, I found that looking it over again just to make sure it was ready for battle made me feel more confident as I moved down the street against the howling wind.

And with that, of course, looking up from my rifle and to the road ahead made me discover a formerly hidden sensation of edginess, something I hadn’t felt back in Harbinger or even on Griffin’s Bridge. Maybe it was because this was the first time I had really considered my situation, no longer needing to focus on keeping my hooves on solid ground to keep myself from falling into a radiation field like back on the highway. But the nervous spell hit me like a runaway train, a painful reminder that I was alone in uncharted territory, that I was twenty miles from headquarters and from any form of backup, that my communication link was weak and continuing to diminish, and that I was almost dangerously low on water and food… oh yeah, there was that deep pit in my belly, that lump in my throat… Goddesses it did not feel good.

Up ahead, the buildings on either side of me gave way to a clearing, street corners that preceded a four-way intersection. The street I was on came to an end here, with the road on the opposite side of the perpendicular street being choked off by a towering mass of rubble, both buildings on the far two street corners having respectively lost the wall that faced the path, as well as several floors, which contributed to the pile. But this was also where my pipbuck’s map had indicated my next turn, and while the road to the left disappeared into the dust, I turned right at the intersection and followed the road down. With the direction change came a welcomed break from the wind, and though it still swirled all around me, it was no longer fighting my every step, letting me move just a little easier. “Okay Tinderbox… you can do this.” I spoke aloud, picking up my pace to a slower trot with my newly acquired freedom as I let out a breath. “The Colonel’s counting on you…… You’re a soldier, right?” But as I continued through the street, passing by a quartet of wrecked passenger chariots, I found myself chuckling at my previous attempt at a self-motivating pep talk; given the situation and the place I found myself in, being a soldier didn’t feel like it held too much value. “Right… yeah, sure… It’s not like you’re just a week out of basic training or anything…” But still, there was a lot that being a soldier had given me – knowledge and power, strength and courage… all of which I needed to gather to me. “Oh come on, get it together Tinderbox. You’ve got nothing to worry about… but you do have plenty back home to fight for… now focus, come on.”

I guess for now, that would have to do for my attempt at instilling inspiration.

Ahead of me, more old vehicles emerged from the concealing dust curtain. Closest to me was one of the larger city transports, a public transportation shuttle of some kind, that had been turned over onto its left side. Behind that was a mess of smaller taxis, cargo wagons, and other chariots that had come together into a cluster of scattered wreckage. The pileup spread along the majority of the road, almost creating a full roadblock that would’ve made progress slow-going. The right side of the street, however, was still open for easy travel, and I followed the curve to keep moving at a solid pace. Drawing closer to the right side of the street, pulling up alongside the sidewalk, the buildings at the opposite side were almost fully concealed by the sand. To my right, I saw the finer details of what was left of other structures, each unnamed and, as far as I could tell, inaccessible. This stretch of buildings was characterized by entrances made from metal doors, with their walls in various states of decay, and on two of them, intact panels that held a series of white buttons as well as what looked to be an intercom; this street must’ve been home to a group of apartment buildings.

About a half minute later and I had passed by the wagon cluster. Now, only a pair of vehicles occupied the road ahead, one chariot having drawn up to the sidewalk on the street’s left side, and the second wagon lying completely overturned in the road’s center with only one intact wheel. But suddenly, just as I was about to move back towards the center of the street, two consecutive metal crashes brought me to a startled halt as my eyes snapped to the sidewalk just ahead. Only a couple of yards in front of me, the metal door of the next apartment building on the road had sharply swung open and struck the wall, and from behind it came a bloodcurdling scream of agony.

And immediately following it, a pony came stumbling through the entrance and out onto the street.

I found myself frozen at the sight of her, at her torn and bloody form. The earth pony’s body was ravaged by deep gaping wounds, entire chunks of her looking to have literally been ripped away, along with a fair portion of the patchwork scavenging vest that she wore. The crimson splotches and trails that stained her sides and flanks nearly concealed her natural color in its entirety; she was more red than white. But the worst injury of them all came from her neck, blood pouring freely to the concrete from where her throat had been torn open, and even as I watched in shock, the blood-soaked mare found me as she trembled on her hooves, wide hazel eyes with shrunken pupils coming up to meet my own. But only a moment later, taking only a single shaky step towards me, and the suffering mare collapsed onto her left side, only giving a twitch as her blood begun to pool around her.

But then a hoof pressed down on her side, and I snapped my eyes back up to…

Standing over the dying mare was another pony… or something that mirrored one’s body… but it was different, with what was left of its mane and tail nothing more than dry strands of dead gray. It somewhat resembled a feral ghoul at first glance, but instead of pale and dead flesh, the creature’s smoother hide was pitch black, almost like it’s entire body had been burned to a crisp. And instead of the near colorless eyes of a feral, I found myself as the target of a pair of ominously glowing red eyes that zeroed in on me with murderous focus. The creature looking back at me maintained the build of an average-sized earth pony, even resembling the slightly sleeker shape of a mare… but spattered on its muzzle and chest were fresh stains of crimson that gave it a glossy coating, glistening even in the pale sunlight as sand begun to accumulate rapidly over them; this thing was some kind of animal… a predator… something I had never seen before…

The creature then raised its hoof off its newest kill and took a slow step towards me, beginning to crouch as it stared, studying me. And as I begun to step back and away, slowly backtracking as I kept my eyes locked on the frightening creature, its bloody muzzle opened to reveal an alarming set of broad serrated fangs stained with gore that set into a wide chilling grin. And as it followed me, keeping pace with me as it stalked forward, it suddenly stamped down a hoof and opened its jaws wide to cry out, releasing a grating high-pitched scream.

And then it charged me!

With a cry, I dodged to the side, diving to my left just as the monster rushed straight through where I had once stood. But even before I could recover from my landing, the creature pivoted sharply and sprang again, pouncing right for me. I had only a second to respond, and with horn flaring bright, my rifle swung sharply up and around with a telekinetic kick, the weapon stock smashing into the left side of the beast’s head. It toppled to the ground, losing its traction on the concrete from the momentum of its lunge and giving me enough time to properly raise the weapon’s iron sights to my eye level. With another piercing shriek, the abomination scrambled up to its hooves, and the rifle rang in reply. I fired shot after shot, as fast as my telekinesis could pull on the trigger, and I saw as seven rounds punched into its chest one after another. I was spot on my mark with every bullet, easily so with how close my target was to me… but the creature didn’t even flinch as it sprang once again! Then it was right on me, and I only got my rifle up between us just in time to halt its charge. The rifle, floating horizontal before me, intercepted the creature by the chest, making a bar between us. But the thing was thrashing violently as it was momentarily held in place, hooves flailing to reach me and lethal fangs gnashing as it tried to chomp down on me. And even through the telekinesis that held it in place, the rifle was beginning to push towards me as the creature roared and screamed in my face, fighting harder to get to me! I struggled, I pushed and shoved and fought to keep my magic up! But it wouldn’t hold!

With a yelp of alarm, my telekinesis cancelled out, delivering a light but perceptible jolt of pain to my horn and skull as my rifle clattered to the street. Then the monster attacked, and I fought through the headache to rear up on my hind legs, catching the beast’s hooves in my own. Right away the creature shoved as we locked together in a grapple, throwing its weight against me and catching me off balance as it snapped its teeth at me. I managed to keep myself upright on my hind hooves, losing a step but bringing myself to face front as I was shoved again. I could tell already that I was outmatched in physical strength as my muscles tensed with the effort of holding the ravenous creature back, even as I was pushed into standing completely straight, the creature nearly on me as it continued to put more force into its effort; another shove and I’d be on my back! But my rifle was right under me, waiting for me to act, and with another flash of my horn, the rifle shifted as an idea sprung to life.

The weapon quickly rose up, the barrel turning to point straight up between us, then tilting to its target…

BLAM!!

The creature’s head jerked up and back as it went silent, its full weight finally thrown off of me as the killing shot punched through its jaw and into its skull, splattering my helmet’s visor with spots of mucky black. And with a mighty heave, I turned and threw the beast to the pavement, finally breaking free as it fell motionless to the street. The adrenaline was pumping through me, I was panting heavily, and I backed up and away from the limp body of my opponent, eagerly putting distance between us as I fought to catch my breath. “Mother Celestia, that thing was angry…… wh… what the??”

The creature moved! Only seconds later and the dead body moved!!... From its place on the street, the creature’s legs and head begun to twitch as thick black slime slowly oozed out around it. And with a low and murderous growl, the creature begun to rise, its head snapping right back to me for its fiery red eyes to meet mine once again. The shot had punched clean through its head, evident by the hole that was almost concealed by the front of its patchy gray mane. The same bullet had also displaced the creature’s lower jaw, which now disgustingly hung from one hinge as it faced me. But from both the hole on its forehead and the gruesome wound on its muzzle, a pink haze was drifting out and moving in the wind, encircling the injuries… the hole in the creature’s head was shrinking at its touch, its jaw beginning to rise back into place…

Oh Goddesses… this thing was regenerating!

The creature screamed once more as it continued to heal before my eyes, more pink haze continuing to emit from the wounds as they closed. At that point, I simply faced forward and bolted, galloping full-speed down the road and past the regenerating abomination. But no sooner had I begun to run, bypassing the overturned wagon, when another bellowing cry echoed on the street, cutting through the noise of the blowing wind with ease. This one was not behind me either, but just ahead of me, sounding farther down the road before a third cry came from my right, coming from an alleyway between two standing structures nearby. And when I looked forward again, I skidded to a startled halt as another of the creatures just like the first roared out and lunged for a tackle, springing from concealment in the curtain of churning dust.

Tucking my rifle up close to me, I threw myself into a roll to the left, letting myself drop to my side as my momentum threw me out of the way, the creature grabbing at the air where my head had been. I scrambled back up to all fours as the monster pivoted on its hind legs, and as it braced for another attack, I reared up tall and brought my rifle to bear before activating S.A.T.S., time now slowing to a merciful crawl. With the break I received, I dialed in three attacks to the monster’s left front leg, and prayed that it was enough to slow it down; if this one regenerated like its friend, then there was no conventional way that I could kill it… but I could still do something.

With a final command, I executed the spell, each of the attacks sending a burst of two rounds downrange. Each hit its mark on the upper part of the limb, and with a sickening crunch, the creature’s leg buckled under it as it fell with a screech to the ground. As I dropped back to all fours, I could see that my shots had almost completely severed the target extremity. But almost immediately came a plume of pink from the exposed flesh of the gaping wound that resulted from my countermove, the lower portion of the injured limb breaking completely free from the monster as the haze begun to regenerate the lost meat and bone. Even as the creature pulled itself toward me, I could hear over the wind a gentle hum of magic from the pink fog as it wove an entirely new leg to replace the lost one, its outline already visible as a dimly glowing pink outline while the haze swirled and churned around it like armoring; this thing, this haze that, I realized with shock, closely… no, exactly resembled the pink cloud megaspell, was definitely magic-based… this wasn’t something natural… and that was my cue to get the hell away from it!

As another pair of red eyes materialized in the blowing dust of the sandstorm, I turned and bolted farther down the street, following my objective waypoint as I poured on the speed to get away. But now, the screams of these creatures were growing more frequent, and they were calling one after another, first from behind me, then from closer by my right side, and then again from up ahead. My ears perked at the latter, the closest of the three, and focusing ahead, I spotted the silhouette of another vehicle emerging swiftly through the dust curtain. Though keeping myself alert, I kept my momentum going, diverting away to the left and running along the sidewalk to give the larger transport some space. But it was when I was focusing on the wagon, searching for more of the beasts, that another scream assaulted my ears, seemingly right in front of me. And I only had time to gasp before yet another one of the regenerators dashed in to attack.

The beast rammed me full force, completely halting my gallop as the wind rushed out of me all at once. Then I was slammed down onto my back, and I was face to face with a mouth full of saw-like teeth as the creature stood over me, a mouth that opened wide and lunged down. A violent grating of metal ripped into my ears before I could react, and I felt tremendous pressure on my helmet as the monster chomped down on the metal plating protecting my muzzle. I cried out as the metal begun to bend, the creature’s fangs threatening to puncture the plate as it jerked and thrashed, attempting to sink its teeth into the flesh inside the armor. With my head being jerked around every which way, I was nearly panicking as I fought to shove and kick the beast off me. And then I felt with a deep jolt of shock as the creature’s jaws crushed down even harder, the fangs piercing through the metal and digging into my muzzle! The taste of blood drove it onward, and I couldn’t even cry out the pain I felt as the creature suddenly pulled with a sharp jerk, its teeth then slashing down my skin, drawing blood and tearing away more metal before it finally released me. Finally I cried, but through the pain that stung harshly at my face, I found my rifle laying just nearby. And as the monster on top of me made for another attack, my horn fired up once more, and the weapon lifted up off the ground to point right for my carnivorous assailant. Shot after shot rang out as I fired desperately, and I thanked the Goddesses as the weight of the creature was finally lifted off me, the beast staggering from five hits and falling down by my right side.

Doing my best to ignore the burn on my muzzle, I forced myself to move, the creature already regenerating the chunk of its head that had been painted against the wall next to us as it twitched. For just a moment, pink mist hovered in front of me as it begun to swirl around the monster’s head and neck, brushing up along the torn metal of my muzzle plate with just a wisp of it passing over my visor before I scrambled back and away from the dangerous gas. A few hurried steps back, and I stopped only long enough to look over my pipbuck’s local map; the next road was my final turn towards my waypoint, and it’d be my way out of this nest of city wildlife I had walked into.

From farther down the road where I had come from, the other members of the regenerator pack came running, both of them that I had encountered galloping with shocking speed into my field of view from the dust screen. In response I once again activated S.A.T.S., the spell slowing the two monsters down enough for me to take aim. Two shots, both targeting for the head, and I activated the spell. Both bursts of fire from the programmed attack found their marks, and the headshots halted their charges as pink cloud puffed out from the wounds, healing them rapidly… but it appeared also to slow their movements… the creatures no longer galloping, but only hobbling forward with their crimson eyes still set on their prey.

It was easy to catch on, and that was something that I needed to remember – the healing process drained their energy, made them slower while they recovered from damage.

I used that precious time to run, the three abominations disappearing back into the dust screen as I bolted for my next turn. Within seconds my last corner came into view, the street hooking to the left at a ninety-degree bend while widening into six lanes. There was no intersection here, only another pair of larger buildings occupying the space beyond the hoofpaths that dictated the shape of the street. But in the same corner, I spotted another one of the regenerators early as it sprang from its hiding place behind a single wagon tucked up along the far sidewalk, screaming with bloodlust as it moved in to intercept me. I kept myself running as I leveled my rifle and turned the corner, and when it drew close I opened up, seven more shots lashing out until the trigger clicked on an empty chamber. I wasn’t sure if I had hit, but the monster nonetheless diverted from its collision course, retreating back into the dust to hide once again. But more screams took its place, and as I reached with my horn for another magazine to reload, I halted once again as two more of them emerged from just down the road, one coming from the far right lanes, and another stalking forward directly in front of me, both of them with their lethal jaws opened, teeth bared and slickened with drool.

CRACK!

From behind me, a tremendous clap of sound punched through the blowing winds, and was proceeded by a steady ominous rumbling that begun to rise in a swift crescendo. Right as I craned my head around to look, a square hunk of rebar smashed down onto the street nearby, followed immediately by a second block that landed less than a meter away from me, a chunk that was easily twice my size! Proceeding them came the steady shower of lighter debris, shards of stone and panels of wood raining down onto the street, and when I looked up… The building directly behind me, towering up into the sandstorm to disappear from sight, was deteriorating, cracks swiftly snaking up the face of the structure as entire sections of the wall fell free. And then I jerked with shock as another huge crack of noise sounded, my eyes going wide when the entire building begun to shift, groaning as it listed dangerously!

The tower was collapsing!

“Oh Goddesses!!” Wasting not another second, I turned and pushed myself forward even as the two regenerating monsters in front of me charged, completely oblivious to the tower that was coming down. But whether that was the case, or they simply didn’t care, I was forced to throw myself to the left when the closest of the pair sprung to catch me. It leaped right past me, gnashing its teeth at me as it tried to correct itself in midflight and latch onto me. But its partner was right on me to counter the first’s mistake, taking full advantage of the speed I had sacrificed for my maneuver. This time I wasn’t fast enough to dodge, and I only managed to bring my rifle up between us before the creature chomped down. With a crunch, powerful jaws plunged into the body of my rifle, immediately crushing it down as the regenerator fell to all four hooves. Then it greedily pulled at the weapon in my telekinetic grip, and with the adrenaline pumping, my mind screaming at me to bolt, I willingly canceled out my telekinesis, letting the creature drag my rifle down and onto the street before I ran for all my worth.

With the regenerators at my back, I now had the street to worry about, as already, more hunks of the failing building were smashing into the road ahead. Pouring on the speed as I ran down the final stretch towards my waypoint, two wrecked wagons came into view, both close together in the center of the street. Up above, all around, the rumbling of the falling tower was intensifying to overpower the noise of the sandstorm itself, driving me to push myself even faster, and I stuck to the left sidewalk to quickly bypass the chariots. Three other wagons emerged behind them as I desperately pressed forward, another bulky block of the tower’s wall crashing into the street just to my right, kicking up concrete dust into my visor to mix with the blowing sand. A second one then landed right in front of me, concrete spilling out in a wave that nearly caught my hooves as I hurriedly adjusted my course to bypass the obstacle. Right when I dug my hooves into the surface to spring to the right and gallop around, another crash sounded just to my right, wooden shards spilling out onto the road from the heavy dresser that had landed there. Galloping between both obstacles, hopping over a metal support beam that had jutted out from the former, I moved back to the center of the street to run past another of the wagons in the street just as a heavy refrigerator unit smashed into the street’s right-side walkway, bouncing from the impact to land again as yet another block of rebar smashed down behind it.

The roar of the collapsing structure was all I could hear now, sounding even over my hooves striking the pavement; it was nearly on top of me!

Ahead emerged another trio of old wagons, two of them larger public transportation shuttles that were sitting one behind the other on the right side of the street with the third a smaller taxi wagon in the center of the road. I was forced to divert again, hugging the street’s left sidewalk as another large metal container fell and dug into the street just in front of me. As soon as I drew upon the wagons, the lead vehicle of the two transports was flattened with a screeching metallic crunch by another concrete piece of the collapsing tower while two more large chunks crashed to the street, one in the road’s inner lanes, and the second right behind me, seeming to almost nick my tail. And as a sudden wave of debris showered the entire street, splashing over my armor and my helmet as I stampeded forward, the sandstorm in my line of sight was replaced entirely by the thick gray of concrete dust and debris as a deafening explosive roar filled my ears.

With a cry, I lost my pacing, and the momentum of my frantic gallop was halted entirely as the wave of rolling rubble connected with my hooves, sweeping me off the surface and carrying me head over tail.

Only for a moment did I see my world as it spun, my vision washed over in gray as I fought to grab something, anything to get me solidly back onto my hooves. Then there was a jolt, a heavy metal clang as something struck my helmet on the right side of my head, pain splitting through my skull. And like the fading of the evening, the gray dust and the thundering cacophony of sound all yielded to a tide of silent darkness, a black curtain that took me away from the sandstorm and the falling tower… took me away from this place…

Away from the world…

*** *** ***

With a cry, I ceased my movements and surrendered to the moment, and under me, crying out in chorus with me, my mare hugged me even tighter, all four legs wrapped around me as we shared our moment of unrestrained passion. In just a few seconds, the tremendous shockwave of ecstasy finished its course through me, and my senses begun to return. Beside me, my mare’s left cheek was pressed against mine, and I heard her heavy panting with my own as she clung to me – her breathing was the sweetest music to my ears. For a few more moments, the two of us remained locked together, our bodies joined, our minds and our hearts as one, and then I opened my eyes, craning my head back to see her, to see my lover.

Beautiful golden eyes looked up at mine as she lowered her head back down onto the plush pillow, her legs easing their hold around me. And when her head touched the soft cushion, she cast a tired smile as she squirmed happily underneath me. Still we remained silent, only looking into each other’s eyes while I returned her smile with one of my own, letting out another heavy breath as I recovered from my exertion. The silence was a comfortable silence, a powerful and meaningful silence, one that froze the wasteland itself as we stayed locked together. It was the silence that reminded me of my many blessings, that I was a soldier now, and that despite the fact that it had torn me out of my quiet former lifestyle that it was this road that gave me the chance at more than just subsistence. Soldiers were loved here, honored as Hayward’s heroes by those who lived the civilian life, and it was this that would now allow me to be better, to expand upon what I already had, and make it stronger. It would allow me to become strong enough to sustain not just myself anymore, but to support my greatest gift – the beautiful, royal blue unicorn mare that lay on her back under me, who’s beauty was amplified by the white backdrop made by the thick, heavily wrinkled sheets nestled around her… the mare that I shared this moment with… that I intended to share my future with. And it was the silence that spoke our words in this moment, only the ones that needed to be spoken – that we treasured this time together, this peaceful night we spent in each other’s company, that we loved each other so very much, and that we were proud of each other for our accomplishments that we had witnessed in our four years together, both those we had done alone and together.

This was a moment that I didn't want to end.

Lowering my head down, I gave my love another kiss, the two of us locking lips as her hooves, previously resting on my shoulders, traveled along my coat to run through my mane and to the back of my head before she hugged me closer once more, forbidding me from leaving the embrace we shared on our bed. It was only when we needed to breathe again that she and I broke the kiss, and as I shifted and pulled out, still remaining over her, it was then that the silence was broken, tenderly dispersed by the escape of a soft feminine giggle.

Her voice was beauty in its own right, sweet and pure like soft music, every word, every sound, a revitalizing angelic note that rejuvenated my spirit. And at hearing her, I met her eyes once more as she laid her head back down onto the pillow. “This was a good day… and an even better night.” she spoke, her left front hoof running along my neck to brush up against my cheek. “I’m so happy that I got to spend that time with you, Tinderbox.”

“Seeing you again was the best gift of all in these past four days.” I replied, raising a hoof to gently brush back a lock of her lavender-colored mane. “All those letters I sent were never enough for me… I still missed you so much when I was away in training.”

“The Legion tore you down and built you back up, transformed you from a simple merchant into a proud fighter. You came back to us a changed stallion, everything about you, mentally and… physically…” Even in the tenderness of the moment, I easily caught the playfully suggestive tone of her last word, and with a smirk to match the one touching her lips, I lowered my head down to take a quick nip at her neck, on the left side where it met her shoulder. Adorably, she squeaked at my attack on one of her several ticklish spots, and she gave my head a light shove as the both of us shared a round of light laughter. Quickly though, it subsided to yield to the original atmosphere, my mare’s loving smile returning to her as she picked up where she left off. “You’re stronger now, more confident in yourself. Everything changed with you… everything except your heart. Those letters you sent me were a symbol of that, a testament to the stallion you are…” Pausing, she once again lifted her head from the pillow, just long enough to place another kiss on my lips. “Only your blood family could be more proud of you than I am.”

I returned her kiss by nuzzling along her right cheek, taking just enough time to hear her let out a light happy sigh. “Hearing you say that means all the world to me.”

“You did a good thing for yourself, Tinderbox.” she replied, running a hoof along my mane. “And I know you’re only going to keep doing better while you’re in the southeast.”

Here, however, on the subject of the southeast, I felt just a pang of hesitation, even guilt. “Even though I’m a part of Hayward’s armies, part of me still doesn’t want to go.” I said back, leaning down to nuzzle along her right cheek again. “This assignment was so sudden… I just wish I had more time to spend here with my family… with you.”

“I know.” she replied softly, letting out a sigh as she likewise nuzzled up against me. “But with any luck, this campaign will finally let Hayward achieve its goals, to secure the safety it once had in its early years in the wasteland. That’s what the Talons fight for now, and it’s what everypony wishes for… no more basic impulses, no more pointless ambitions. Those are history’s scars and they belong to history. There’s a real goal now, and you’re a part of the solution to accomplishing that goal.”

I let out a light breath, lifting my head back up to look her in the eyes; they showed understanding sympathy for my desire to stay, but there was an insistence behind them as well, a strong quality that reminded me of the duty I had to take on. “I know you’d all expect it of me to do my part now that I’ve joined the Legion’s ranks. And the last thing I want is to disappoint you, you and my family both…”

“Oh, Tinderbox.” At my words, the blue unicorn guided my head down to give me another kiss, one that she quickly broke in order to look back to me. “You wouldn’t disappoint any of us even if you dismissed yourself from the Legion. You know that… but I think that deep inside, you also know that this is a step in life that you’ve really wanted to take for yourself, something that you want to follow for at least a little while.”

“Things in the canyon territories are getting worse.” I remarked lowly. “Now I’ve got the skills and the training to protect you… but the threat is big, and it requires the efforts of everypony to beat it… so if going on this scouting mission brings Hayward one step closer to beating down its enemies, then that’s what I need to do to keep you safe.” And that was the truth of the matter, as the threat to Hayward was more than just a couple of tribal raiders. If that was the threat, I would’ve gladly made a case to stay home with my loved ones. But this situation Hayward found itself in now needed a different kind of action outside simple home defense, sitting on the porch with a rifle hovering nearby to take out a robber should he find your house an appetizing target. The wars needed ponies to act together, to work towards the same objective as one unit, and my assertion made it clear, both to her and myself, that I knew what I had to do next.

My words won a smile from my beloved, and she once again draped her forelegs around my neck, this time hugging me close as I nuzzled along her right ear. “Just come back alive.” she whispered, her hold around me tightening just enough to emphasize her point.

I could hear the worry etched in her words, and the sense of guilt I felt for being the source of the nervousness that turned within her was painful. Her life in the city as an herbalist required her to remain behind Hayward’s walls, where her medicines and spices could flourish and be cared for. She had every right to be worried… but I also knew that she herself had great inner strength, and I knew that she believed in my own confidence on the matter, especially because of what we had to look forward to. It was something that I happily reminded her of as I replied, “I promise I will, Cheyanne. Besides,” Lifting my head up and away, I reached my muzzle over to bump Cheyanne’s horn, nudging the thin but shining silver band wrapped around it – the predecessor to a wedding ring. “when I come back, I’m marrying you.”

My reminder of the things to come put a smile back onto my lover’s face, and she giggled again as she pulled me back into a hug. “That’s right, Tinderbox…”

…

… “Tinderbox…”

…

… “Tinderbox…”

…

*** *** ***

“Tinderbox…”

Her voice…

Cheyanne…

Her voice traversed the darkness, bringing with it a soft roar of sound… faded… distorted… but still recognizable…

“Cheyanne…”

I felt the word as it left my lips… and I definitely remembered the word, the mare it belonged to… but the name only faintly reached my ears before it was quickly devoured by the roaring around it…

Roaring… the constant rumble of sound was growing louder in the blackness, and it grew quickly to a level that sparked recognition… ignited my memory…

Wind! Yes, the howling and blowing wind was the source of the sound, and with it came the cyclic hissing of churning sand as it grazed the earth and danced in the air. Yes, where I was, the sand and the wind were one entity, always moving, always roaring… but where was I… where?

As sound returned to my ears, so did feeling to the rest of my body… and I was attacked by a hard-hitting jolt of pain. It made me shudder, and I let out a weak grunt as I forced myself to try and move. My forelegs shifted together, both able to move freely, and I felt that my head was resting on my left leg as it moved away. When it was free, my head slid down to a hard surface, a jagged one which grated against something metal… the helmet I was wearing. The sound of the iron against the stone send a light shock through me, a motivational shove to get me to try and open my eyes. And just barely, they opened up, just enough for me to see out into a hazy but vast expanse of red-orange. I took that as a sign of encouragement, and though they fell closed once more, I forced my eyes to cooperate, and this time, got them to open properly. Though my vision was still fuzzy, I could now clearly see the colors of the area, recognize the swirling sand as it rushed past me and churned around me. But with that, I could see scattered debris layered out ahead, with only scant sections of what I remembered to be a street remaining unconcealed by chunks of concrete and wood and plastic… all of this rubble…

The tower!

I remembered now – I remembered the falling building… I remembered running for my life… and the… the ponies… no, the monsters!

I was becoming aware now, energy returning to me despite the pain that was circulating through my head, and as my vision begun to focus, settling into a clearer image, I begun to look around, turning my head left and right to see where I was. To my left I saw the corner of a nearby structure, in front of which was a sidewalk that rounded that corner and stretched away in that direction to disappear into the dust screen made by the continuing sandstorm. To my right, my vision of the surface was concealed entirely by a pile of rubble, jagged blocks of rebar and twisted protruding metal beams piling up just beside me, with what looked to be some kind of couch sitting broken and upside-down at the top of the mound. And with my vision returning, I also saw that my helmet’s visor had been cracked in two places on the right side, creating a winding split in the glass that crossed over my eye.

But there was no black-coated creatures nearby, no grinning jaws with jagged fangs.

Letting out a breath of relief, I relaxed slightly at that knowledge. But there was something else however, a weight that I felt pressing down against my back, something that had fallen over me. When I looked, I saw a heavy wooden beam as the culprit for the pressure, the rafter lying fully against me with its right end submerged within the rubble. Thankfully though, this looked to be the only large thing that had fallen on me, with only a layer of concrete dust coating my combat armor and another smaller and much lighter plank of wood laying across my flanks.

Now I just needed to move. Though I was conscious now, I felt dazed, light-headed, and I still had to find out what happened to me, as my headache was still as strong as before. Still, I pushed myself onward, focusing on the heavy beam as I begun to adjust myself. Without magic, I first pushed away the concrete chunk my head had fallen on before I tried to pull myself forward with my front hooves, pressing them down onto the street to use them as supports. The wooden board on my flanks tilted and slid down my left hind leg to fall onto the street, and a portion of the concrete dust on my armor cascaded along my sides and down to the ground. But the heavy beam didn’t yield, and I gained very little ground from its hold on me. “Magic it is then.” I remarked, swallowing to remedy the dryness in my throat. Then, focusing on the obstruction, my horn flickered to life and enveloped the beam in magic. Though it took effort on my part, and the use of magic painfully intensified my headache, the beam shifted on my first try, lifting up just slightly as a pair of small loose blocks of stone fell away from it. It was that small shift that was all I needed, and focusing my strength for a quick effort, I pulled myself forward and out from under the beam, falling onto my side as I gladly let my spell fade.

With a crash the beam fell back onto the street, and I let out a sigh of relief, then checking each of my legs individually; I spoke a silent but heartfelt thanks to the Goddesses at my luck as each limb moved normally. And with my torso likewise free of pain, I thanked them for the fact that I had been wearing a full rig of Talon combat armor, as I had the distinct feeling that without it, that beam would’ve caused some major damage. The only exception, however, was my head, as it was now ringing with a pounding headache that continued to leave me feeling woozy… and with the cracked visor still in my vision, I also had the feeling that I had still sustained a nasty injury; it definitely didn’t feel right.

Carefully, I rolled back onto my belly, and putting my front hooves under me once more, I slowly raised myself up to a shaky stand, taking just a moment afterwards to make sure that I had a solid purchase on the ground. Then, I reached a hoof up to my helmet’s lower jaw plate, and I froze at feeling the texture of the metal. There was damage here, tears in the armor that left a bumpy and jagged trail as I traced my hoof along its length. “That’s right…” I commented aloud, sighing; one of those creatures had gotten to me. However, the release latch for the plate was still intact despite the attack from those… things… and upon finding it, I flicked it to release the jaw plate, which swung down on its hinge and hung free from the helmet’s front. Then with a quick telekinetic shove, I gratefully pulled the helmet off of me, letting it fall to the ground at my hooves with a metallic thud.

Right away though, I found myself looking upon a worrying sight as the helmet rolled to show its interior. Blood stained the interior, spread in a sizeable dark splotch along the entire right side… and it looked rather fresh. With this was also another collection of blood, this one smeared along the muzzle of the helmet, spreading along the front and down onto the torn jaw plate. The sight of it made me wince, and though a part of me told me not to, the better just to not know, I raised a hoof up to delicately trace my chin. At the touch, the burn was instant, as was the moisture, the liquid texture of blood and the fresh coppery scent. But at the same time, I tilted my head to guide the same hoof up to the right side of my skull, where an even greater burn met my touch. There was a wound there, a nasty bump that was still bleeding freely, and with a sigh, I took my hoof away and pressed it to the chest plate of my combat armor, unceremoniously smearing the accumulated blood across the trio of white slashes designating my faction.

“Okay, so… head’s bleeding…” I remarked aloud, bitter as I craned my head around to look over my saddlebags. The right-side pack was still intact, minus only a single thin tear that stretched along the side. But the left pack had been considerably damaged, a much wider tear spanning right down its middle all the way to the bottom… where a wide purple stain had welled. “Oh no…” In a flash of light, my horn glowed as I telekinetically reached for the damaged pack and gave it a shake. I cringed in worry at the sound of shifting glass shards that met my ears, and opening the flap of the saddlebag, I hurriedly reached deeper and took hold of a cluster of the glass, raising it up for me to see. With a sigh, I tossed it away, then working to pull out the rest of the shards one load at a time, and with two more telekinetic scoops, my pack was completely emptied; my healing potions, both of them, had been lost.

“Ah shit…” I muttered in defeat, ending my spell and facing forward. Up ahead of me, aside from the layer of debris that coated the majority of the street, was a clearing that was, as far as I could tell, completely clear of buildings. The thick masking dust screen was still only a couple yards ahead because of the strength of the sandstorm, but there were still no structures that I could see close by. Now they were all behind me, and to either side of me, I could make out the silhouettes of other tall structures branching out in both directions, following the path of a new street that crossed perpendicular to the road I had taken to get here… here to my waypoint…

With a start I looked down to my left foreleg, raising the pipbuck still secured around it just above my hoof. Thankfully the terminal was functional, but it had also not escaped undamaged from the tower collapse, as aside from a series of shallow gashes and dents along the metal frame, the main screen had cracked both on its far left side and in its upper right corner. Despite these though, the medical screen that was shown was still clearly visible, as was the medical warning it revealed to me. The little cartoonish unicorn on the display wore a pained frown, a little teardrop below its closed left eye, as its head was outlined in a dotted red line. I grimaced as my body then saw fit to remind me of the truth behind the image, a pulse of pain coursing through my skull that came from the bump I had gotten there. Whatever happened, something had hit me hard when the tower collapsed, and upon looking down to my helmet, I could see where that something had struck the plate, carving a gash into the metal and caving a portion of the right side inward; the helmet had undoubtedly saved my life.

But now, I was still wounded, still a little unsteady, and I had no means to cure my aching head or my bleeding muzzle. And with my helmet now properly junked, the sandstorm was free to blow full-force into my wounds, currently stinging at them without remorse. Now I only had one mission, and that was getting into a secure building and finding medicine; whether it was a concussion or just a very jarring strike, I knew that I needed a healing potion sooner rather than later.

Silent, I used my horn to type away on my pipbuck, navigating the display away from the medical screen and pulling up my inventory list. Two magazines for my rifle, each with thirty rounds, remained in my right saddlebag. These were utterly useless to me now, as I remembered the fate of my primary weapon, the rifle having been taken from me by one of those creatures; now only my combat knife remained, the blade having survived in good condition according to my computer. With the rifle mags, my water canteen and my box of preserved oats had also survived, and lastly on the list of remaining items I possessed in my pack was the Trinity Sunrise, damaged, but certainly not destroyed like my healing potions had been. “Trinity…” Yes. That was the name of this place. I remembered now, and I remembered also that I was searching for something, following a waypoint. But what was it again?… With a quick series of button presses I changed the display once again, bringing up my computer’s local map to see just where I was. According to the map, I was close to the flashing map marker – very close.

“Just ahead…” I muttered, lowering my pipbuck away to stare into the clearing. At first, nothing was visible to me in the dust screen, not until a stronger gust of wind stirred the churning sand, forcing me to jerk away and protect the wounds on my head as the sand thrashed painfully against them. And as I squinted my eyes to look, I could see… I could see the silhouette of something, some kind of fence. “I’ve got to move…” I urged myself, taking a slow step forward. “Goddesses I hope I find something at… at wherever I’m supposed to be going…”

Slowly but surely, I begun to pick my way over the rubble, treading carefully over the jutting wooden boards and blocky rebar between me and my target location. The sandstorm was my only enemy as I walked, as it had immediately begun to pick up to an even stronger level, as if sensing that I was on the move. The whistling wind and the blowing sand made an annoyingly painful combination, forcing me to bow my head low and to turn away from the direction of the gale. But within only a minute, I found myself approaching the fence as it emerged clearly into sight, its finer details coming into focus.

The fence was chain-link, taller with worn coils of barbed wire mounting the top. Sections of the fence had been blown down entirely by the storm and now lay flat on the surface, while the rest of the fence in view leaned away from me and shifted back and forth on its weakened foundation as the storm continued to ravage it. But directly in front of me, the remains of a chain-link gate sat ajar from the fence, partially opened and held to its bent iron support beam with only one of its three hinge assemblies, the other two having deteriorated to uselessness. But it was the white metal sign on the gate itself that had drawn in my attention, because it was the name done up in red block writing on that signboard that I remembered hearing before, the name that the Colonel had given to my target location.

Vanguard High Command Base – Broadsword Bunker East Access Gate

I was here.

Beyond the gate, the front of a single-story rectangular building was visible through the dust, the whole structure looking to be more or less intact. It was an inspirational sight, not only because I had finally found my objective, but also because the building itself was not just standing, but looked to actually be stable. With any luck, it’d be a place I could hunker down in for a while, a place that I could make a shelter from, and hopefully it would be a place where I could heal. “Anything’s better than this damn storm.” I spoke sourly, pushing myself forward and up to the gate. The entrance was just wide enough for me to move through, and walking past, I emerged onto a wide wagon lane. From either side, another road branched off into the dust, perhaps to other buildings of the complex, while directly ahead the lane begun to narrow into a walkway. Off to the right, lying on its side in a dirt yard just beyond the lanes, was another wagon, cargo door and tailgate fully opened to reveal a trio of damaged shipping crates within its hold, similar to many I had seen early on while traversing Griffin’s Bridge. However, when I briefly detoured from my path to check over the wreck, each crate yielded no items that I could use; and all the while, the storm continued to throw sand against my wounds.

Forbidding any further delay, I set myself to a steady trot to close the distance between myself and my soon-to-be shelter. The walkway led straight to (what I guessed to be) the southeast corner of the structure, the rest branching off to the north to fade into the dust screen. I came upon a set of intact double doors, both of them windowless and made from sturdy iron, and with an eager tug of my telekinesis, the right-side door handle turned, and the door pushed open and swung into the building. “Finally some honest shelter.” With a grateful sigh I trotted into the entry lobby of the structure, then shutting the door behind me before I let the light of my horn fade out once again. Inside the first room, I was face to face with some kind of security booth, a small chamber built into the back wall that was surrounded by an iron plate foundation topped with cracked but intact glass panels that spanned up to the ceiling. Two of these panels faced me directly, showing a whole mess of cracks that spider-webbed along the entirety of the panes. But what was curious – on either side of the booth, two entryways led to another chamber behind the wall. The left entrance was sealed by a slotted security shutter, and the right side was only partially open, the shutter having only come down partway before the bottom had snagged onto the frame, denting the gate and preventing it from fully closing. But above each entrance was a sign labeling the location beyond the gates… glowing signs flickering with light.

“Electricity…” Even as realization struck, I looked along the ceiling to confirm my new discovery. Sure enough, a single light fixture was fastened into the tiling, a long narrow bulb casting a dim but steady white light into the entrance chamber. And to my right, where a short hallway branched off deeper into the building, I could see other similar light sources illuminating the remains of an office suite, casting its light over the scattered papers and toppled desks within. This building had a functioning power source, somehow remaining intact and keeping the structures undamaged lights active despite the sandstorm that continued to rage outside; even through the walls I could hear the howl of the wind.

However, my focus quickly turned back to the security booth, and the two electrical signposts fixed to the wall above the entrances that flanked it. Both were labeled with the same thing, the black letters against the flicking white light spelling out four words – Broadsword Bunker Elevator Access.

“Elevator…” I mumbled, narrowing my eyes in thought as I approached. “Don’t see those very often.”

Advancing at a slow walk, I moved along the security stall’s left side where a single door had been damaged, its hinges loosened and a large round dent plastered into the iron. Up ahead was a small room, the cracked floor of which was littered with debris from the ceiling tiles that had fallen loose over the years. And at the far wall was a single closed access point, another glowing sign designating it as the elevator door, while to the left of the entrance, a crooked but fully legible placard of metal displayed a short bulletin in black print.

“Pilots?” Now that caught my attention, that single word making me stop to look over the signboard once again. “What the hell kind of place is this?” Looking over the message, I was now beginning to appreciate the goal behind my mission in Trinity; this message was showing me potentially promising results. “Heh. Maybe there’ll be some medicine in there, too.” I mumbled, flicking my eyes over to the elevator door. Opposite of the message sign was the elevator’s control panel, a simple assembly consisting only of a single rectangular plate with one button that was built into the wall. And closing the distance to the door, I reached up and gave the button a press with a hoof.

Something within the wall shifted in response, a mechanism sliding upward with a heavy click. Then the elevator door moved, and I flinched at the grinding of metal against metal as the door gradually slid left and disappeared behind the wall. Behind it was the elevator itself, a spacious compartment made to hold about ten to fifteen ponies per load. The elevator opened from both sides, another door like the first having been built at the opposite wall with a similar single-button control panel next to it. Peeking into the elevator, I saw two rectangular ventilation covers on the ceiling, both of them containing lazily turning fans within their frames, all of which showed moderate wear.

Stepping into the elevator, I instinctively eased my steps as the carriage gave a short groan under my weight, reacting with just a light level of noise as each hoof stepped onto the elevator’s metal floor. Then, upon pressing the next button, the door behind me closed, once again grinding against its compartment before shutting with the locking of the door mechanisms. “This thing’s definitely worn down…” I observed with a flick of my ear, feeling as the entire elevator lightly jerked before, with the sound of whirring pulleys, the elevator begun to move. “It’s amazing this rickety thing still works.” Even as I reflected aloud, the elevator picked up speed to settle into a light rattle as it descended, the occasional clang sounding outside the walls as the worn-down assembly worked to push the elevator down the shaft.

The ride down was relatively short though, and within less than half a minute, I felt in my legs as the elevator begun to slow and come to an eventual stop. Then with a heavy click, the door in front of me slid open, this one smoothly retracting into the wall to reveal an access corridor. The hallway was laid out into a singular path with no turns, merely built as a straight shot to the other side, the door of which I could just make out at the other end of the abnormally lengthy passageway. Still I pushed myself forward, doing my best to ignore the headache that was beginning to return, cutting through my focus to get at me. As I crossed the first couple yards of the hall, my ears perked as the elevator door slid closed behind me, the lift assembly firing up once again as the elevator returned to the upper floor of the facility… or rather, I then realized with interest, the ground floor.

Yes. Having entered the Vanguard High Command Base from the city surface, it hit me that this access corridor, and likely the Broadsword Bunker itself, was all built underground. That brought up another curiosity about my target location, as the only underground structures I had come to learn about were the famous Stables built during the war. No structure back home had been built entirely under the surface, and applying that fact here to the present, I docked a point off from my initial doubt that I had brought into Trinity. If the ponies that lived here had the resources to build an underground facility of some kind, regardless if Stable-Tec had a hoof in it or not, then there had to be something left behind that the Talons could use.

Having traversed nearly half the hallway, my eyes flicked to an emerging signboard as I came across a new corridor, one that branched off and away to the right. At the corner where the two halls connected, the signboard held on it a number of labels, names with arrows pointing towards their respective positions. According to the board, this new hallway led to the Broadsword Flight Room, while the corridor I walked through led to multiple sites. Chief among them was the Broadsword Bunker itself, but there were two other locations that this hall apparently led to, including the access point to something called the Eclipse Chamber, as well as the Broadsword Runway Control Room…

Wait… runway??

Cocking an eyebrow, I froze midstride to double-check the list of locations on the sign… but sure enough, my eyes didn’t deceive me. I snapped my eyes to face front, my formerly subtle curiosity bump igniting, and set my pace to a steady trot, ignoring the protests of my aching head and muzzle as I pushed myself onward. “What the hell is this place?” That was the silent question echoing again in the confines of my thoughts as I begun to close the distance to the opposite end of the long corridor. Back on the surface, in that building, I had immediately been curious at the mentioning of ‘pilots’ listed in what was clearly a military-based notification board. Then came the indication of a ‘Flight Room’, and now this ‘Broadsword Runway’. Those three pieces were fitting together into a hypothesis, one that I didn’t outright believe but… one that, if true, might very well get the General’s approval to occupy this region.

With the corridor exit now only yards away, I pushed myself to a gallop as I passed by a second passageway that branched to the right of the main hall, the signboard indicating it as a path to a maintenance area. I hardly gave it a second glance as I closed the remaining distance between myself and the door, and as the letters of the glowing sign above the corridor exit became clear, I slowed myself to a walk before falling to a complete stop. “This is it.” I remarked after a breath, nodding at the glowing sign designating the doorway as the Broadsword Bunker’s entrance. “Alright… remember your training.” Though the urge to barge in was strong, I forced myself to take a step back so that I could focus. Right now, I still needed to find a healing potion, or at the very least some bandaging. And if at all possible, I needed to find a replacement rifle and some ammo to give me something to use to… well… at least increase my chances of getting back to headquarters. At the moment, however, all I had left was my combat knife, sheathed vertical by my right shoulder. “Well… better than nothing.” I thought aloud, lighting up my horn to pull the blade from its sheath. Glinting steel met me, the light from the sign above creating a tiny spark on the knife’s sharp tip, and giving a nod, I let the weapon hover off to the side as I raised up my pipbuck. For now, the E.F.S. compass was clean, detecting no enemy presence beyond the door or, when I turned around to check, in the maintenance corridor and the main hall. “Good. Last thing I need is to run into one of those creatures with just a knife…” I muttered, turning back around to the front and facing the door.

The mechanism was more complex, comprised of a wheel at the center to which multiple metal arms were attached, each connecting to a gear that opened the security door. Focusing on the wheel, I enveloped the component in my telekinesis and gave it a tug to the right… nothing budged. With a grunt I forced the wheel back the other way, at which point the parts begun to move in concert. The wheel spun a full rotation, pushing the arms over and towards the edges of the door before the gears begun to click one after another. Then the door tilted, and with a gasp and a hurried step back, I dropped my spell before the entire thing fell backwards, landing with a jarring crash onto the stone floor. The thunderous impact left a ringing echo, and as it faded away I remained still, grimacing at the painful volume of the door’s collapse; it certainly didn’t help my headache any.

“Oops…” Gradually, I let myself stand up straight as the echo of the impact mercifully fell away into nothing. But as I flared up my horn to scoop up my knife again, my daze from the unexpected door malfunction followed the echo into oblivion as my eyes fell upon what lay beyond the main corridor. Keeping my blade hovering close and at the ready, I moved on through the entrance, whereupon my eyes were immediately drawn upward… up to the roof that sat suspended high above me… the massive ceiling that sprawled out farther and farther away, stretching almost endlessly to the north for what had to easily be at least a whole mile! The ceiling was aglow in a virtual army of service lights that combining together to reflect against the array of iron support beams that followed the monstrous ceiling down its entire length, spanning horizontally from wall to wall to support it. Each connected to both walls, which spanned maybe even seventy full meters apart! And each large beam was welded into a number of smaller bars that connected it to the ceiling itself, reinforcing the array and adding additional structural support. But as my eyes backtracked along the ceiling, I followed the tall right-side wall connected to it and traced it down to the surface… and I froze at the sight I beheld on the floor of the colossal chamber…

Vehicles…

The aircraft clad in grey-white plating were divided into two separate rows, one line against each wall. Each of them was fully intact, perfectly preserved down to the cockpit windshields that glinted in the dim orange light of the bunker, and each was parked in its own designated space sitting only a couple yards apart from its neighboring aircraft. They bore a startlingly close resemblance to the vertibucks in Hayward’s Altus Air Force Base, possessing the same overall design as those that my home city had preserved – the same tail assembly, the same twin engines, and the same landing mechanics. However, it was easy for me to discover a key difference that separated these vehicles from the ones I knew of, and that was their size. These aircraft were larger all around, just enough so to make a notable difference. The fuselage was broader, the body longer, and the nose rounder, the craft as a whole still sleek but still heavier. The wingspan was wider too, separating the aircraft’s twin propeller engines farther away from the body, and each one was armed with a weapon system that Hayward’s vertibucks did not possess – there was a minigun mounted under the nose of each vessel, a larger gatling-style cannon with five barrels, and on each of the two stub-wings mounted in a middle position on the hull just behind the cockpit were two rocket pods, cylindrical weapon units with multiple projectiles in each, as well as a missile pack with four warheads attached. Perhaps these aircraft were some kind of new model, or maybe an older one… I had never seen this type before. But with so many resemblances to Hayward’s own aircraft, I had no doubt that what I was looking at was a massive assembly of vertibucks. And judging by the heavy firepower attached to each one, I felt it safe to assume that these craft weren’t just attack units, but full-on assault units.

But best of all, the two rows of aircraft stretched down the full length of the Broadsword Bunker. This place housed dozens of these aircraft! And yet, when I managed to tear myself away from the vast line of pristine fighting craft, looking back to the left to the opposite end of the bunker, my eyes fell upon something else, the final vehicle stored here.

My jaw fell open.

A monstrous behemoth of an aircraft took up my vision, facing towards me from its place in the back left corner of the great chamber. The beast sat on three pairs of smooth tires, making a modified tricycle-type landing gear that partly resembled a standard vertibuck landing assembly. On this craft, two smaller tires were built parallel on the nose gear, and the other two pairs of larger tires were built in tandem on the main landing gears placed on either side of the main body right under the wings, built within what looked to be rounded extensions of the already tubby fuselage. The aircraft itself was absolutely huge, with a round nose at the top of which sat a whole line of cockpit windows, all standing at least three pony-lengths’ taller than me. Over the top of the aircraft’s fuselage, I could see the vertical fin on the vehicle’s fuselage-mounted tail assembly, the upright stabilizer stretching up even higher to max out the aircraft’s tallness. This was accompanied by the great length of the fuselage itself as well as its enormous wings mounted center at the very top of the body, spanning to well over three times the aircraft’s height and stretching out even longer than the fuselage from wingtip to wingtip. On each of the lengthy wings was not one, but two large four-propeller engines, facing front and seemingly fused into the wings themselves. But on top of all that, this massive aircraft was armed, containing within it an arsenal of weaponry whose firepower complemented the machine’s staggering size. On the port side of the aircraft, five different weapon barrels jutted out from open slots in the fuselage. Closest to the nose, just in front of the aircraft’s engines, were two miniguns with six barrels set side-by-side. On the opposite side of the extended main landing gear compartment were the longer and narrower barrels of two repeating guns, looking like that of a twenty millimeter. But the last weapon jutting out from the fuselage, sitting just in front of a lowered cargo ramp at the rear of the aircraft, was the much larger and even longer barrel of a cannon, some kind of heavy artillery piece.

And tracing the whole thing back to the front, taking in the sight of the whole craft once more, I found a single word done up in cursive blue and black paint positioned on the left side of the nose, giving the aircraft a name to complete it.

Sapphire

This… thing… was something that I had never seen before, something that I never imagined could have existed. Back home, Hayward vertibucks were mechanical marvels all on their own, from their ability to take off vertically and hover, to attack from the air without pegasi soldiers, to their whole ability to function being based on gem-powered engine assemblies. There were many models of vertibuck, both civilian and military, armed and unarmed, that had been covered in the history books back home, and each and every one of them was a significant step forward from the pegasi-pulled chariots of the pre-war world. The vertibuck, and their aerial brethren under the command of the mysterious Pegasi Enclave, was among the crown jewels of the Equestrian effort to rise to the challenge that the zebras gave to them in the war, and Hayward prized the aircraft that it possessed. But this vessel, Sapphire, was something else, something that, in all honesty, I felt belonged to the Enclave itself. It was a fortress in its own right, an aerial powerhouse, and it was here amidst an entire fleet of unique vertibucks.

Looking away from Sapphire and out into the vast expanse of the Broadsword Bunker, I recalled the signboard in the access corridor, the board that pointed me in the direction of the Broadsword Runway Control Room. The hypothesis I had formed previously was beginning to shine as truth as I fit the facts together. Between both rows of vertibucks was a wide open lane of smooth concrete, stretching further and further away down the expanse of the Broadsword Bunker. Having seen Sapphire, I knew now what the purpose behind it was. That lane was the Broadsword Runway, a route designed for the giant aircraft behind me to take off. And though I would’ve dubbed that impossible upon my arrival to this installation, I now knew something else about this facility as my eyes traced up along the walls. This installation was underground, which therefore would make me question the logic behind storing air units below the surface. However, carved into both walls was an expanse of dozens of wide steel tracks, each pair of steel bars containing between them closely-spaced indents for a corresponding notched wheel, the closest one to me sticking partly out from the floor nearby like the rest of them, to travel vertical up the wall. It was mind-blowing, but with the fact that the ceiling was lined with what looked to be giant hinge assemblies, spaced between each set of wall tracks, the conclusion was ultimately sound.

The Broadsword Bunker wasn’t a parts warehouse, nor was it just a simple armory like the Colonel had first predicted. No. The Broadsword Bunker was an underground airfield, a single massive elevator platform that could rise up to the surface to deploy an entire fleet of air units.

I let out a sigh, cracking a small smile at my discovery. Goddesses, I had just stepped into a veritable goldmine! These vertibucks, Sapphire, if we had all of these units in our ranks, the Talon Legion would secure the southeast and restore safety and order to its home turf in mere weeks, days even! These could tip the scale and bring an end to the consequences of eleven years of stupid mistakes and reckless decisions!

“The Colonel’s going to want to hear about this.” I remarked aloud, letting out a single light note of laughter as I raised my pipbuck to eye level, finding myself in much better spirits despite my current position. Hurt and tired as I was, I felt a rather comforting sense of accomplishment as I pulled up my computer’s communication screen. This place and the vehicular arsenal stored within was a relic of the Old World, a treasure of the most powerful military force on the planet, a true model of the strength and knowledge that Equestria held in its days of glory, and it had all been spared the destruction on the surface, just waiting to be revived; and the time for that was close.

Now I just had to hope that my weak signal was enough for me to reach the Colonel and give her the good news. On the communication screen, the waves made by the line of golden light that showed the strength of my pipbuck’s signal were very narrow, dangerously close to reaching the base of the screen. While the last thing I needed was an inoperative com-link, I didn’t want to throw myself back out onto the surface right away either. In fact, a very persistent part of me felt that I needed to remain here in this bunker, to keep watch over the site, maybe set up a little camp by Sapphire and wait for reinforcements that the Colonel would surely send to secure this place. That, and I really needed to find some medicine and clean myself up, which I felt I had a better chance of accomplishing in this facility, especially because it had not been leveled like the entire city above it. “And I should explore the rest of this place, too.” I mumbled aloud, nodding in agreement with my own thoughts as I thought back to the signboards in the main corridor. While I had come across this airfield already, there was the chance that the Broadsword Runway Control Room and this Eclipse Chamber might also yield something important, something else that the Talons could use; whether or not it was as significant as this airfield… well, I had my doubts on that one.

“Harbinger Base…” I spoke to my pipbuck. “This is Traveler Seven Seven.” Unsurprisingly, there was a curtain of static that met my voice, buzzing soft as I let a few seconds pass. But when there was no reply, I continued without waiting for acknowledgement, “Harbinger Base, this is Traveler Seven Seven… I’ve found something big in Trinity. This Broadsword Bunker – it’s a-”

BOOM!!

An explosion of sound tore into my ears, a deep echoing boom that filled the chamber just as white-hot agony ripped through my torso! Screaming, I was knocked clean off my hooves from the blow, and I landed hard on my left side as my combat knife broke from my telekinesis and clattered to the floor nearby. The searing pain immediately begun to constrict itself around me, clamping down and crushing me without mercy. It was literally blinding, my vision going dark as I screamed again.

“Traveler Seven Seven report!!”

The Colonel’s voice suddenly punched through the fog of the horrible pain. Desperately I opened my eyes in response, snapping my gaze to my right side to look upon the single gunshot wound – the shockingly large hole that had been torn into my combat armor was already spilling a snaking trail blood that flowed to the floor; I couldn’t see the actual wound under the thick plate protecting my right side, but I felt as the bullet that had made it shifted inside me.

“Traveler Seven Seven COME IN!!” Silverwing shouted through the static, her words confused and tense.

With a grunt I put my forehooves under me, breathing heavily as I fought to push myself up to a stand. But just as I got my front hooves under me, the burn in my side exploded to its original level as something else smashed into me. I only barely kept myself from screaming out again, the hit drawing a pained yelp from me at having landed right on my wound, and I lost my fragile balance on the floor and toppled back onto my side. But then, I felt a weight press on my left foreleg, stepping down firmly on my pipbuck and pinning it to the floor.

A hoof… a foreleg… clad in armor and adorned with a silver pistol in its holster… and it shifted over my pipbuck to tap a single key, navigating back to my map screen to terminate my communication link.

“Black and white…” A voice spoke, the words carried on a firm tenor voice that reached my ears from just above me. And as my pained heavy breathing fell to short sharp breaths, I managed to raise my head up, my eyes traveling along the armored foreleg and chest to eventually fall upon another face… another living pony.

Looking down at me with a cautious stare, blue eyes slightly narrowed and face set into a small frown, was a dark-brown stallion with a short black mane that spanned from his head to the base of his neck, edges touched with grey to show the beginnings of age. Atop the stallion’s head was a plain black patrol cap tucked between his ears, and with it he wore a light armored overcoat made of thick black and blue fabric, underneath which was what looked to be a combat vest. Secured around his middle was a battle saddle with a different weapon on both sides, the right-side weapon what I recognized to be a heavy .50 caliber rifle, and the left-side weapon a stockless submachine gun of blue-grey metal. His overcoat covered the whole of his body up to the base of his neck, leaving only his head, throat, and black tail exposed… and a pair of brown-feathered wings folded against his sides just above his saddle weapons…

My attacker was a pegasus pony…

With a pained grunt, I tried to move, pushing with my hind hooves and my free foreleg to try and put some distance between myself and this newcomer; he didn’t even retaliate, letting his hoof slide off my computer as I pushed myself away on the floor. “I know those colors.” the stallion said, lowering his hoof to the floor as his stare continued to follow me. “Should’ve known too that they would’ve returned to the southeast… but I didn’t think that they’d come here. They didn’t when they first came to Challenger’s land.” I hissed at the lasting burn in my side, forcing myself to stop as my eyes shut tight; I tried to respond… but the stabbing pain that lingered from my gunshot wound didn’t ease to let me speak. “I saw you on the streets of Trinity as you marched through the dust.” the pegasus stallion continued; through my closed eyes, I heard as his hooves moved along the floor. “The city almost claimed you when its inhabitants found you, and then again when that tower fell. But you survived.” Finally, I got the strength to surpass the sting in my side, opening my eyes and finding the stallion a few paces away, looking out into the Broadsword Runway. “I took that as inspiration for a time… but only until I saw the symbol you follow.” he said, craning his head around to look back at me where I lay.

With a pant, I forced a foreleg under me to prop myself. “I follow… I follow orders…” I managed to croak in reply, saying the first thing that came to my mind.

“Orders…” the pegasus repeated. “What you say still shows where your allegiance lies.” When I managed to look up again, I found the pegasus as he turned fully around to face me, his eyes still set into that cautious stare. “But the insignia of the Talons is a herald of great danger, always has been… but especially when it is present here.”

Though it took effort, I finally got myself to stand on all fours, and as my legs trembled under me, I managed to keep my eyes on his. “What are you… what are you talking about?” I questioned. “What is this place?”

“Once… it was the home of another symbol and the ponies following it, different from the Talons.” the pegasus replied. “Those that once lived here – they believed in a nation. In the Old World, they fought for a place they believed was going to be a beacon of hope, an idea that would carry the strength of the past to restore the peace and prosperity that ponykind had basked in for a thousand years before the Great War. They cherished it so much that they devoted themselves to protecting it and its pre-war virtues, to putting themselves before the eyes and the guns of the zebras so that others from that nation didn’t have to. They bled for it, sacrificed themselves so that it could live on, so that it could carry the code of honor that the ponies here had built and preserved as the war tainted the world around them. But it was the very symbol that they had put their faith in that eventually committed itself to a course of action, an act that eventually destroyed this place. And all the while, it was the ponies here who failed to realize that it was they themselves, all that they had built and cherished, that was becoming the beacon of hope they saw in the Sun and the Moon, that was becoming the idea of the Old World that would bring the peace that they wished to see returned.” Here, the stallion paused, only long enough to look past me, eyes coming upon the aircraft behind me. “This place is the heart of it, a place that houses the legacy of the dead here,” Then he looked back to me, his eyes slightly narrowing. “a place that you’ve trespassed upon… threatened…” At the stallion’s… ominous last words, I only remained silent as my wound forced my focus to my injured body. But now, I was feeling even weaker… whether it was blood loss or… if the bullet had hit something vital… I didn’t know… but even though I fought to remain upright, my body just wasn’t going to allow it, and with an agonized grunt, I crumpled back down to the floor, falling onto my uninjured side once again.

“Whether you know it or not,” the pegasus spoke up, completely ignoring the pitiful state that his anti-material rifle had put me in. “Hayward follows in Equestria’s steps by its actions here. Its decision to return to the southeast, to restart the war it had waged ten years ago, speaks of its spirit, of its recklessness that guides itself and all it sees as its enemies to destruction.” A hoof then crossed in front of my darkening vision, drawing my fading attention back up to see the stallion’s blue eyes upon me. “Your presence here shows me that that threat is closer now than it was ten years ago.” he said. “And now I have to ensure that Hayward can’t finish history’s work.”

As he continued, I once again tried to force myself to move. This time though, I was searching desperately for a weapon, my knife… the blade that was sitting only a short distance from me. “You and those who stand with you mustn’t come here. It is for those who follow the virtue that was forged here, my family, and for them alone.” the pegasus’ said beside me as my horn begun to weakly flicker, the knife shifting in its place and slowly rising. “I can’t allow you to bring the Talons here.”

…*click

At the sound proceeding his words, I felt a cold chill pass through me, rippling from muzzle to tail as my eyes flicked up to the pegasus… and the 9mm pistol he held by the firing bit in his jaws, the weapon barrel looking me in the eye…

Then a flash of light…

A blast of sound…

Dark…

Nothingness…