I had no idea how much time had passed between when I’d collapsed and when I finally woke up. I was still just outside of the Stable, so the Overmare hadn’t come out to get me, at least. I found I was lying in a pool of what I assumed was my own vomit (I had no recollection of throwing up, but the proof was there). A sideways look at Velvet’s corpse and I almost did it again. Keeping my back to the Stable door and what was left of my friend’s body, I pulled a can of water from my saddlebags and washed myself off. I did the same for the Overmare’s datatape, and for the second datatape I found lying in my puddle of sick. It was unlabeled, and I received an error when I inserted it into my PipBuck, so I assumed it was the magically compressed datatape of all the Stable’s books. Now, I just need somepony who could magically decompress it for me. I didn’t trust myself to be able to look through Velvet’s remains for any more supplies, so I left the Stable door behind me and moved on.

It was hard to believe I was really outside of the Stable, mostly because I was still surrounded by the same dull gray, utilitarian walls. The room I was trotting through was much larger than any room in the Stable, excluding the atrium, agriculture area, and reactors, but it was largely empty. Faded signs on the walls welcomed Stable 85’s residents to their new home, pointing them to the very visible Stable door and warning that once it shut, it would not open again. A few lights still flickered on the walls, but most had gone out over time. As I moved through the room, I passed the refuse of the old world; broken baggage racks and suitcases and supply crates abandoned in a mad rush to enter the Stable before it sealed.

It was obvious that other ponies had been here over the years. The crates and suitcases were pried open, everything valuable removed. Also, the floor was littered with the bones of ponies who had died trapped outside when the Stable sealed, begging to get in until starvation, dehydration, or radiation killed them. I did my best not to step on any of them, but as many as there were, it was unavoidable. I still cringed every time I heard the crunch beneath my hooves.

At last I reached the other end of the chamber, where a lift large enough to hold a dozen ponies at a time was situated. Stepping onto the platform, I pressed the large “UP” button and waited for it to begin moving.

“Caution: please remain clear of lift while in motion, and keep all extremities behind the rail,” a tinny voice came from speakers mounted to the lift as it began to rise, “Stable-Tec is not liable for any injuries sustained from misuse of this lift.”

The ceiling above me folded up and away as the lift neared it. The platform came to a noisy stop within another large room, this time less Stable-like. The floor and walls were both tiled, though they were filthy and pieces were broken off in places, and the cork ceiling was at a normal height. Here too there was abandoned luggage, though it was piled up against the walls instead of being strewn across the floor. Dividers, most knocked down or missing their ropes, dominated the room. When they’d been intact, they would have formed an orderly queue for ponies to follow to reach the lift and travel down to the Stable.

Passing by the broken dividers, I stepped through the room’s single doorway into a hallway. At my hooves was a tile bearing a logo with a six-pointed star and wings, ringed by “Ministry of Arcane Sciences.” Velvet hadn’t mentioned any such Ministry, but judging by the word “arcane,” it was the official name of the Ministry of Magic she belonged to. Looking up and down the hall, I could see there were five other rooms, each with the logo of a different Ministry. I peeked into the adjoining room for the Ministry of Wartime Technology, and confirmed that each room was set up the same, with a lift for each Ministry.

As I passed by the Ministry of Awesome’s designated room, I heard a skittering from within. I looked to my left and jumped back as I caught a glimpse of the creature leaping toward me. A giant cockroach (most likely the radroach Velvet had mentioned back in the Stable) landed in the hallway with me. It angrily hissed as it turned to jump at me again. I had no weapons on me, but swinging my foreleg around, I struck it with my PipBuck. I heard its carapace crunch as I threw it against the wall. When it tried to get up, I struck it with my PipBuck again. I continued to strike it until it stopped moving and my arm-mounted computer was coated with goo.

Wiping my PipBuck’s screen off, I stepped away from the dead bug and continued down the hallway. Not intending to be taken by surprise again, I activated my EFS before stepping through the door. Two pips appeared, hopefully both still just radroaches. I pushed the door open slowly to get a glimpse of one of my targets, confirming that it was just another of the oversized bugs. It noticed me watching it and began to skitter my way. As it reached me, I slammed the door on it, shearing it in half. As the front bits began to move toward me, I stomped on them with my hooves until they stopped.

I listened as the radroach on the other side began to move toward the door. When the time was right, I threw the door open, flinging the bug across the room. I charged in before it could recover, searching for something to use as a weapon. A chair caught my eye, and I sent it rolling across the floor toward the remaining radroach. It was too smart to let itself be crushed, however, and jumped up on the chair, using it to launch itself at me. I deflected with a swipe of my foreleg, sending the radroach spinning. Before it could get up, I wedged my hooves behind a nearby filing cabinet and tipped it over. The metal let out a loud clang as it impacted with the floor, crushing the radroach into paste.

Now that I wasn’t fighting radioactive, mutated bugs, I was able to get a better look around the room I was standing in. It was narrow, with just enough room for two ponies to walk side by side along its length. The wall opposite the door I’d come in through was made up of teller windows with metal shutters down over most of them, many in very bad shape. To the right, the room ended in a wall, but to the left was a sturdy metal door that would have kept out almost anything, had its lock not been blown off some time ago.

I exited through the doorway into the larger room the radroach-infested room had only been a smaller part of. It was built in the same style as the waiting rooms behind me, but there was very little luggage piled up here. Instead, the space against the walls was taken up by worn-out coaches. In the center of the wall opposite the teller windows was a set of double doors, which I pushed open to step deeper into this building.

I found myself standing in the back part of a bus station, looking out at the platform where passengers once stepped onto earthbound and flying buses. I knew this because their rusted hulks still rested there, waiting for passengers that would never come. Looking behind me, I could see that on this side of the doors was printed: “Area open only to Stable-Tec personnel and Ministry personnel in emergencies. KEEP OUT.” Apparently, Stable-Tec had tried to keep this Stable a secret from all but the ponies who would be allowed in.

A map of the bus routes and stops was posted on the wall, but had faded to be almost unrecognizable over time, with the exception being the names of the locations the buses ran to. Every one of them was the Vanhoover Hub of one Ministry or another, so I had to assume this bus system was exclusive to Ministry members. The signs posted telling bus riders to have their Ministry IDs ready to present only reinforced this idea. This, of course, also explained why Stable-Tec had elected to build this particular Stable beneath this bus station, since it would guarantee everypony who entered would be a member of a Ministry.

As I stepped out into the light, I was struck by a sudden wave of nausea. Everything was so much brighter than it had been in the Stable, and the world was so much more expansive. It stretched out forever in all directions, except for up, and there it was halted only by a dark layer of clouds miles away. As I adjusted to my newfound world, I could only imagine how bad it would be for ponies who had spent their whole lives in a Stable, never knowing an open space larger than the atrium or a light brighter than the “realistic” lighting in the agriculture area.

Once the world stopped spinning, I stepped off the platform and onto the cracked asphalt of an ancient road. To the north, the road led to a twisted forest of blackened trees, but to the south I could make out the outlines of nearby houses, and in the distance the silhouettes of skyscrapers. Just a short distance from the bus station, a sign still stood, proclaiming:

Among the buildings of Majikland I could see a few thin plumes of smoke. Hopefully it was a sign of civilization, and not something more ominous. I didn’t dare risk the forest, so since I had nothing better to follow, I decided to head to the south. Checking to make sure everything was balanced in my saddlebags and they were secure on my back, I journeyed out toward Majikland.

As I should have expected, the homes of Majikland were mostly in ruin. So far as I could tell, this was not the direct result of a megaspell detonation, though a resulting shockwave could have contributed it. Rather, decades of harsh conditions had worn these buildings down until only a few broken walls were left. I scavenged for what I could—a few bits here, a pack of snack cakes there—but most of the buildings were bare or not even worth the effort to pick the door to get in. Still, it gave me more practice picking locks, a skill it seemed I would need to find shelter in this wasteland. Back in the Stable, Charity had taught me how to pick locks as an exercise to help rebuild my recovering magic with fine manipulation of tools. It looked like all that fiddling around with bobby pins would finally pay off.

I was still a ways away when I saw that in the center of Majikland the style of building changed. In the middle of all these houses, there appeared to be a small district of shops where Majikland’s residents once purchased their household goods. This was where the smoke had been coming from, but now no more appeared in the sky. I paused in my traveling when I heard the sound of gunfire and muffled explosions. Without a doubt, the sounds of fighting were coming from the shop district.

Perhaps heading toward the first sign of civilization I’d seen hadn’t been a good idea, if it just led me into another battle. Wanting to avoid fighting as much as possible, I decided to detour around the shops, and I left the main road, passing through the wrecks of homes. Velvet had claimed the doctor’s coat I was wearing would protect me from harm, but I doubted I’d stand much chance in a straight-up fight without a weapon of my own. Passing through one of the ruined houses, I grabbed a rusty pipe from the bathroom. After giving it a few practice swings, my magic was still holding up, so I felt confident enough to move on.

As I tried to circumvent the shops, piles of rubble kept forcing me back toward them. Eventually I found myself trotting down a back alley behind the main street. The sounds of gunfire occurred less frequently now, but I still tried to tread lightly. I was nearing a road and preparing to turn back when an earth pony came suddenly careening around the corner, dressed in armor made from scrap metal and wielding a piece of rebar tipped with concrete in her mouth. Her eyes widened as she saw me, but by then she was almost on top of me, and couldn’t react in time as I hit her over the head with my pipe. She dropped to the ground and her makeshift weapon clattered away.

Before she got up, I intended to get out of here. That plan was dashed, however, when a door opened right in front of me and a blast came from it that blew my pipe away. A red unicorn mare stepped through the doorway, levitating a shotgun with her magic. She pointed the barrel at me, until she heard the moan of the pony at my hooves, and swung it around to blast her instead.

Run! my mind told my body Run while you’ve got a chance! but I was too paralyzed to move. Then it was too late, as the unicorn swung her shotgun up to point at me again. She didn’t fire; instead, her eyes drifted down to latch on the PipBuck on my foreleg.

“Well, well, well; what’ve we got here?” she asked, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth and an evil glint in her eye.

“Ripcord!” I heard a stallion’s voice from above, and I looked up to see a lime green stallion perched above with a hunting rifle balanced on the ledge, “If yer gonna take all day, I’ll just shoot him m’self.”

“If you do, I’ll personally gut you,” I heard Ripcord say, “This one’s valuable.”

When I looked back down, all I saw was the butt of a shotgun. And then the lights went out.

When I awoke, I felt an intense burning in half my body. Cracking an eye open, I saw the ground sliding past me. Both my forehooves and hindhooves were bound, and I was being dragged across the ground, which would explain why my entire side felt raw. I didn’t dare take a look around to get a good view of my captors, but I could listen in on them, at least.

“I just don’t see why we had to leave the market right away,” the stallion from the rooftop said, “It was a defensible position. We coulda held out the night there, or at least until he woke up.”

“Chalice, my dear,” the unicorn, Ripcord, responded in a condescending tone, “Are you absolutely sure we got all the Deltas? What if one got away and came back for us?”

“Then I’d shoot them,” Chalice grumbled, “We oughta find their nest and put a bullet into each and every one o’ their brains for what they did to us.”

“At half force? What good would getting the rest of us killed do?” Ripcord replied, “Besides, we’re gonna be able to annihilate ‘em after this little deal.”

“Better be worf draggin’ hif aff acroff town,” a second stallion’s voice chimed in, his speech hindered by something in his mouth, most likely the rope I was being pulled by.

“I’m with Rock on this one,” Chalice said, “Why’d you go an’ knock him unconscious?”

“Did I have any rope on me to tie him up?” Ripcord asked, “For all I knew, the fight wasn’t over yet, and we couldn’t spare the horsepower to guard him until it was.”

“That’f it!” Rock proclaimed, spitting out the rope, “I’m not draggin’ him any farther, not unless I get to have a little fun first!”

“We can’t cut him up,” Ripcord said, “The Steel Rangers want him unspoiled.”

My first thought was what’s a Steel Ranger? My second was cut me up!?!

“Technically, they just want him able to operate that Pip-thingy on his foreleg,” Chalice pointed out.

“Right,” Rock said, “We can at least cut up his hindlegs. He doesn’t need those.”

“He does if you don’t want to haul him the rest of the way,” Ripcord said, hardness in her voice.

“I might have to do that anyway!” Rock protested, “How long ‘fore he wakes up?”

“Let’s see,” Ripcord said.

I heard hoofsteps trotting toward me, and I tried to look as unconscious as possible. I cried out and doubled over as I received a sharp kick in the stomach.

“Wakey, wakey,” Ripcord said, bending down and leering at me, “Get up!”

When I failed to do so fast enough, she kicked me again. Shaking, I managed to prop myself up into a sitting position, at least. Ripcord loosened the bonds with her magic enough that I could stand up all the way. I wouldn’t be able to run, but I could hobble along, at least. The rope that had originally been tied to the bonds on my hindlegs was retied around my neck as a leash.

“Come now, my merry band of miscreants,” Ripcord said, propping her shotgun on her shoulder as she took the lead, “The school’s not far now.”

In well under an hour, the Majikland Elementary School reared up in front of us. The massive stone and metal structure had weathered the apocalypse well. There were only a few places where the roof had caved in, and most of the windows were still in their frames. A large sign out front announced the first game of the hockey season would be held at the school next weekend.

During the journey, I’d kept my mouth closed and simply listened to the conversation between the three foul ponies I was stuck with. Most of what they said was so vile, I found myself cringing at it, which only caused them to talk about such subjects even more to discomfort me. Even if only half of what they said was true, my PipBuck had saved me from a very grisly fate indeed. Apparently the Steel Rangers (who I still knew nothing about and had the good sense not to ask about) were offering a large sum of money for a pony who could operate a PipBuck. If it weren’t for that, dying would have been a kinder fate than what they could plan for me.

Ripcord appeared to the leader of the group, deciding what the gang would do and beating down anypony who disagreed with her. Her barding was of considerably higher quality than the other two’s, with what looked like riot police armor covering her chest and back. Her primary weapon was her shotgun, and by the way her saddlebags jingled, I assume she had plenty of shells for it, but she also had a bandolier across her chest holding a few grenades shaped like metal apples. That explained the thuds I’d heard during the fight earlier.

Ripcord was the boss, but Chalice’s word seemed to carry nearly as much weight. If he and Ripcord hadn’t been on such good terms, I would’ve expected him to be a rival. Then again, that could be the case and I just didn’t understand the criminal mind. Chalice was a more than proficient markspony, as he proved several times on our journey, picking off the radroaches that lurked in the shadows, waiting for nightfall. Apparently his brother, Stang, had also been part of the gang before the fight I’d witnessed. Two more ponies, Dirk and Cudgel, had also died in the skirmish.

The final member of Ripcord’s gang was Rock, a dull gray earth pony with very unimaginative parents. That and they’d also been addicts to some drug I was unfamiliar with called Dash, which Rock also seemed to have a craving for. His weapon of choice was a shovel with the edges sharpened. He also had a few knives, but those seemed less for combat and more for carving ponies up for sport, like he’d wanted to do with me. With Ripcord and Chalice so chummy, Rock often seemed to end up stuck with the grunt work, such as carrying supplies, which he now did with my saddlebags.

“This is where we’re supposed to be, right?” Chalice asked as we neared the school’s doors, kicking the saddle-like contraption on his back to deploy his rifle, “I don’t see any Steel Rangers.”

“They’re here,” Ripcord said, pushing a door open with the muzzle of her shotgun.

Rock dragged me into the school’s lobby. Not much was left of the once magnificent foyer. Time had caused the plaster to peel off the walls, and the floor tiles were cracked and broken. Banners that had once proclaimed the school’s achievements were now no more than stained shreds of cloth, and one of the chandeliers had fallen from the ceiling, crashing halfway through the floor and into the basement. Trophy cases had been smashed and looted, and everything that hadn’t been fastened down had been taken.

“Come on out, Steel Rangers! We know you’re he-ere!” Ripcord yelled, her voice echoing within the empty room, “We brought a present for ya. A pony with one’a them Pip-computers ya wanted.”

Heavy hoofsteps came from the second floor, and the remaining chandelier swung back and forth. A pony emerged from each side, fully encased in a suit of armor that let out mechanical sounds as it moved. Headlamps fixed to their helmets illuminated the space ahead of them as they turned and descended the lobby’s stairs, their armored hooves crushing the tiles into shards of broken ceramic. Fused to the sides of their armor were heavy weapons, a minigun and missile launcher on one, and a grenade launcher and high-powered rifle on the other. Out of a first floor office stepped a third pony, this one with red markings on his armor. The Steel Rangers (I assumed) came to a step just a few paces away from Ripcord.

“Show us the PipBuck,” the one with the red markings (assumedly the leader) demanded, the armor making his voice sound metallic and menacing.

Rock cut the bonds around my forelegs, and I raised the PipBuck up for the Steel Ranger leader to examine.

“Are you fit to operate that device?” he asked, the dull, expressionless mask of his helmet giving nothing away.

“Y-yes,” I answered, hoping I wasn’t being traded to a worse fate than the one I was already in.

“Initiate, bring out the caps,” the Steel Ranger ordered.

Another door opened on the first floor, and an earth pony stepped out, pushing a cart laden with ammo crates. Unlike the others, he wasn’t wearing the mechanical armor. Instead, he wore a military uniform with pieces of metal barding over it. He came to a stop next to the two Steel Rangers who had first showed up, and done nothing but stand like statues after arriving.

“Ten thousand caps, as promised,” the Steel Ranger leader announced, and even through his armor I could hear the spite in his voice, “Take it and get out of here.”

“Y’know, we went t’ a lot of trouble to get you this pony,” Ripcord said nonchalantly, stepping closer to the head Ranger, “I don’t know if we can part with him for that price. Make it twelve thousand caps and you’ve got a deal.”

“What did you just say to me?” the Steel Ranger asked, the anger in his voice more plain now.

“I’m just sayin’,” Ripcord said as she closed the distance with the Ranger and swung her shotgun around to point at him, “You obviously want this pony pretty badly, and it can’t be that hard to scrounge up two thousand more caps.”

“Now you listen to me, you little maggot,” the Steel Ranger said, all the Rangers in the room tensing up as he did, “You’re lucky we deal with raider scum like you in the first place, but there’s one thing you need to know about the Steel Rangers.”

“Oh, yeah. And what’s that?” Ripcord said, either not comprehending the situation she was in or completely ignoring it.

“We do not negotiate.”

The Steel Ranger followed up by swinging his foreleg up, the blade mounted to it slicing Ripcord’s head cleanly off. Her shotgun went off as she died, but the angle was off, and all it managed to do was glance off the Steel Ranger’s helmet, smashing his headlamp, but doing no other damage. Chalice jumped out of the way before the shooting started, taking cover behind the chandelier. Rock dragged me behind him, tipping what was left of a wooden table up to serve as makeshift cover, and both of us hid behind it.

Against my better judgement, I peeked over the edge of the table to get a look at the fight. Surprisingly, Chalice was holding his own against the Steel Rangers, or at least keeping them from killing him. The chandelier was swiftly decreasing in quality as cover, however, as the Steel Rangers chipped away at it. As they exchanged fire, one of Chalice’s shots went wide, and he struck the cart of ammo crates. The entire stack exploded without warning, sending flaming bottle caps flying in all directions. The unarmored Steel Ranger who’d been standing next to it was sent flying, two of his legs blown off.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rock hissed at me as he tugged me down so hard my jaw struck the floor.

I was beginning to push myself back up when a flurry of minigun fire tore through the table. One of the shots hit Rock squarely in the head, blowing his brains out the other side. I vomited for the second time that day, then. After wiping the sick from my muzzle, I used Rock’s shovel to cut the bonds still around my hindlegs. When Chalice tossed a metal apple at the Steel Rangers and ran for better cover, I grabbed my saddlebags from Rock’s back and ran. I ran out of the school and into the street, and I ran down the road as fast as I could. I ran and ran until I was sure the Steel Rangers weren’t following me.

I didn’t even consider stopping until I was far away from the school. I had run for hours and wasn’t even sure if I was still in Majikland anymore. The sickly yellow light that covered the Wasteland was turning to sickly orange, signaling the setting of the invisible Sun, as I came to a stop before a rearing structure of stone and metal. My PipBuck chimed at me, and I checked the screen to see that two new notifications had appeared. The most recent one read New Location Discovered: Vanhoover Sports Center and the other one had appeared several hours earlier, notifying me that I had discovered Majikland Elementary. Somehow my PipBuck had recognized the locations from before the War, and had marked them on a new, larger map that had appeared in the menu.

So, the Vanhoover Sports Center was the monstrosity that loomed before me. The stadium and attached building had weathered the years fairly well, all things considered. If I looked closely, I could even make out the writing that had once adorned the building’s front. “VANHOOVER SPORTS CENTER, HOME OF THE MANTICORES.” I prayed to Celestia that there were no real manticores here as I entered the building, searching for a place to sleep for the night and hide from the Steel Rangers.

Much like everywhere else I’d been today, the Vanhoover Sports Center had been looted of everything useful long ago. Hallways were empty, save for broken chairs and mangled filing cabinets. Posters advertising games held at the stadium lined the walls, hanging in cases lined with shattered glass. I used my PipBuck’s lamp to navigate the dark hallways, and my EFS to avoid the creatures hiding in the rooms around me. The raiders had left no weapons in my saddlebags, so I was still unarmed. While I was fairly confident I could take on a radroach and win, I didn’t trust my PipBuck to be an effective tool for bludgeoning to death anything larger. They had kept my Stable jumpsuit and doctor’s coat in my saddlebags instead of keeping them for themselves, though, and I was grateful to still have those.

Eventually I settled on an office in the back of the building, not far from the attached stadium. There didn’t appear to be any signs of Wasteland creatures bedding down in it for the night, and it had a door that was mostly intact; one that would keep out anything that couldn’t turn a doorknob at least. I hadn’t thought to bring anything for bedding, so it looked like I’d be sleeping on the cold, cracked tiles tonight. Before I did so, however, I decided to take a look around the office.

A metal desk (bolts securing it to the floor explaining how it was still here) sat in the center of the room with a dusty old terminal perched upon it, wires snaking down into the floor. Behind the desk there was a sturdy looking safe built into the wall. Speaking of the walls, everywhere but the safe was covered in posters, many of them featuring the sports team the Baltimare Gryphons. Those posters that didn’t include ponies decked out in hoofball attire instead featured “friendly reminders from the Ministry of Morale.” One was particularly disturbing, featuring a crazy-maned mare that still appeared ridiculously pink on the poster even after years of fading. “Pinkie Pie is Watching You Forever” it proclaimed. I tore it down to keep the mare’s eyes from watching me in my sleep.

I decided to try my luck at opening the safe, but after the loss of a few bobby pins, I gave up. Instead, I did what I should have started with; searching the desk for the safe’s key. I had no luck there, however, as all the drawers were also locked, and judging by the damage done by other ponies trying to get them open, I wouldn’t have any more luck. As I searched the desk, I picked up a slight hum in the air. Bending in close, I realized that the terminal was still active after all these years. After a little fiddling with the wiring, the screen came to life.

Welcome to the Ministry of Morale Database – Vanhoover
Officer Fairbanks please sign in--
[If you’re not Officer Fairbanks, you’re a very naughty pony. Leave this terminal alone or you will be punished!]

It appeared I’d found a terminal that had once belonged to the Ministry of Morale, the same Ministry that had spawned the Pinks. If I knew anything about them based on how Overmare Fairy Floss and her gang acted, and from these threatening posters on the walls, the MoM had been a pretty malignant organization. However, so many years had passed since the megaspells had fallen, I seriously doubted I’d receive any punishment for hacking into this terminal short of the Pinks of Stable 85 coming out to discipline me themselves. Considering how they hadn’t even been willing to step just outside the Stable door to get me, I doubted this was a realistic scenario.

It was a bit tougher than I thought it would be, but not beyond my abilities, and I soon found the correct password. In hindsight, it was obvious: BaltimareGryphons; I should have known based on all the nearby posters. All the files I could access were corrupted, so I’d be getting no information out of this terminal. There was, however, a command that would unlock the safe, which would have saved me both time and bobby pins earlier had I considered it.

With a button press, the safe popped open, and I was able to take a peek inside. Within was a stack of papers, a pistol and box of ammunition, a small wooden box, and some kind of electronic device. Most of the papers had decayed into nothingness over the years, but one was perfectly preserved, covered in a slick substance. I drew it out and took a look at it to discern why it had been preserved.

Without context, I couldn’t make much out of the ancient notice, except for a confirmation that the MoM was a fairly sinister organization. Somehow, it also seemed to be involved in entertainment, however that was possible. Personally, I imagined it was merely a sham, something to back up their title as Ministry of Morale while they spied on everypony in search of “zebra sympathizers.”

Next, I examined the pistol. It was light and compact enough that I could easily wield it with my magic, and should serve me well in any fight where I couldn’t simply squish my opponent. I tucked it and its ammunition into my saddlebags and reached for the next item in the safe: the out-of-place wooden box.

I had no idea what somepony would be storing in something like this, but I imagined it would be some kind of keepsake. A tag attached to it made that idea seem less plausible: Ministry of Morale Official Evidence; Do Not Tamper With. Once more, I ignored the MoM’s warning and cracked open the box. Within, tucked carefully in a velvet lining, was a small glassy orb. No more notes indicated what its purpose could be, so I had no idea. But, if it had been worth storing in a secure safe, it might prove to have some purpose, and I dropped the box into my saddlebags.

The final item appeared to be in the same style as my PipBuck. I immediately recognized that it could be slotted into the device on my foreleg. There wasn’t much ornamentation on it, except for two faded logos, one of which I could make out to be a star with wings and a horn, the logo of the Ministry of Arcane Sciences. Curious, I attached it to my PipBuck. Words scrolled across the PipBuck’s screen as it recognized the device as compatible, and I was soon greeted with a menu.

StealthBuck v. 1.5.2, © 1343 RoBronco/MAS
>Activate
>Help

I selected Help, and was presented with a page of text.

This StealthBuck is the latest and greatest in our lineup of personal invisibility devices created by RoBronco with the help of the Ministry of Arcane Sciences. For the 1.5 models, we have greatly reduced the amount of air shimmer caused by the user, practically eliminating the possibility of being seen. The longevity of the invisibility field produced has also been greatly increased; in field tests, the user was able to remain unseen between 2-3 ½ hours. Certainly a drastic improvement! We have also eliminated the need to adjust the settings of the StealthBuck based on your body type. To use it, simply slot it into a compatible PipBuck (© Stable-Tec) and select “Activate.” An invisibility field will instantly be projected over your body. Be aware, however, that this item has enough magic within for only one use, so choose wisely.
NOTICE: This device is authorized for use by Ministry and Equestrian Military personnel only

I tucked the StealthBuck into my saddlebags along with everything else I’d looted from the safe. Being able to turn invisible without having to cast a spell was sure to come in handy one day. There was nothing else that appeared useful or valuable in the safe, so I shut it and prepared to bed down for the night. I stripped off the doctor’s coat over my Stable jumpsuit and used it as a blanket for bedding down.

Before I went to sleep, I decided to fiddle around with my PipBuck and see what new features had appeared after wandering out into the Wasteland. As I already knew, I now had a larger map than the one preloaded on my PipBuck to help me navigate Stable 85. This map displayed the pre-War city of Vanhoover, but was largely blank except for the clump of three locations I’d discovered (the third being the entrance to my home Stable). After a bit of messing with the map, I found I was able to expand it out to show the entirety of pre-War Equestria. Dozens of cities were marked—too many to examine all at once—so I limited the map’s scope to Equestria’s north. There wasn’t anything very close to Vanhoover, but far to the east, connected by a line I assumed to be some kind of transportation route like a road, was the city of Stalliongrad. Farther east still was Flankorage, so far that it barely fit on the map. The east-west transportation line between Stalliongrad and Flankorage was crossed by another line running from Canterlot in the south to the northern edge of the map.

Some more searching revealed that something called the Stable-dweller’s Survival Guide had been loaded onto the PipBuck and had only become available after I left the Stable. It was filled with information on how to survive now that I’d left the safety and comfort of an underground fallout shelter. After perusing warnings to exercise extreme caution in the Wasteland and instructions on how to do basic tasks, I grew bored and moved on. My PipBuck’s radio functioned exactly the same as before, but now had more than just one station. The Stable 85 P.A. System was now darkened and unable to be selected since I’d moved out of range, but there were three other stations I could select. I began with the one my PipBuck had labeled SR Broadcast.

“. . . are offering a reward of ten thousand caps to anypony who can bring us a Model 3000 PipBuck foreleg-worn computer along with somepony who is able to operate it. Bring the PipBuck and operator undamaged to the Majikland Elementary School to collect your reward. Contact a Steel Ranger if you need more information regarding the PipBuck. Message repeats. The Vanhoover Steel Rangers are offering a reward of . . .”

So this was the message Ripcord’s gang had been talking about. It didn’t reveal much more than I’d already known; that the Steel Rangers (which I’d now had a terrifying encounter with) were offering a substantial reward to anypony who could operate and owned a PipBuck. It seemed so awful, but at least the message had one upside. Anypony who had heard it would most likely take me alive and unharmed in order to get the ten thousand bottle caps (apparently some form of currency in the Wasteland). I doubted any but the most sadistic pony would pass up that kind of reward just to torture or kill me. I scrolled on to the next radio station: Radio Free Wasteland. A charismatic stallion’s voice bellowed from my speakers, and I was forced to turn down the volume.

“Goo~ood eve~en~ing child~ren! This is DJ Pon3, bringing you news on the good fight out there in the Equestrian Wasteland! Tonight, I’d like to talk to you about hope. Life in the Equestrian Wasteland may seem pointless sometimes, what with all the rampant hatred and death around you. Raiders, slavers, hellhounds, alicorns, and even the hypocritically noble Steel Rangers; the list goes on and on. ‘DJ Pon3,’ you might ask, ‘What cause have we to hope?’ Because we must have hope that things will get better. If everypony were to give up on hope, and hang their heads in despair, now what would that accomplish? The evils of the wastes would only grow stronger. But when we fight back, with the hope that our actions may make things better, then we will surely make a difference. When the wind blows strong in the darkness of night, and the cloud cover breaks just for a moment, we can look up and see the infinite blackness of the night sky. But within that blackness are the stars; tiny pinpricks of light that for the moment make the night a little bit brighter, a little bit better, a little bit more bearable. In the darkness of the Wasteland we need stars as well; ponies that will stand up and do what is right even as the world around them does what is wrong. The Wasteland needs heroes like that, even small ones. So don’t give up children, don’t give into the darkness. Thanks for listening children! Now here’s that timeless classic ‘Mighty, Mighty Mare’ on your Radio Free Wasteland!”

I listened for a bit to the music before switching over to the next station: Enclave Radio. As soon as I selected it, the melodious singing was replaced by the sound of trombones, tubas, and clashing cymbals. Clearly this song had been meant to inspire patriotism during the Great War. Just before I shut the radio off, the music ceased and was replaced by the silky voice of another stallion.

“Hello again Equestria, this is President Snowmane, and it’s time we had a talk. A talk about government, or, more specifically, your government. How could things have gotten so bad? How could such a just, upright, and perfect government have allowed the tragedy of War to plague our peaceful land? In a word, stubbornness. They refused to change their outdated ways. For centuries, Equestria flourished under the reigns of the Princesses, but their time had come. Desperately we clung to the old ideals and a rapidly decaying monarchist government determined to stay in power. But, the old ideals had failed and nopony wanted to admit it. Instead we refused to change, refused to rise up and challenge our oppressive government. Instead, we tried to improve upon it. Like building a home on a pile of rubble, it was doomed to fail from the start. With the abdication of Princess Celestia, we should have overthrown the Lunar monarchy and started over. Instead, they formed the Ministries. While the Ministries were supposed to represent some form of the ponies’ wills, they only made the monarchy stronger. Instead of elected officials, the Ministries were led by ponies hoof-picked by Luna, little more than pawns in her web. And they formed a new aristocracy, adding to an already stagnant royalty system that had become greedy and corrupt. And we accepted it. We allowed them to take our freedom because we were scared. Scared of change. We allowed them to violate our privacy, tell us what to think and believe, force us to build things that would hurt us, give up our powers, give up our youth to be soldiers, and turn us into something we were not. All because we were scared of change. And in the end, the Zebras didn’t kill Equestria; the stagnant, greedy, corrupt, decaying, monarchist, aristocratic, unfeeling, blind, oppressive government did it. They forced us up to the edge of destruction, and when we fell over, they just watched.”

“But, from the ashes of this destruction, the Enclave rose up. The Enclave is not afraid of change, we embrace it. We know the mistakes of our ancestors, and we do not intend to repeat them. We are not a broken monarchy, we are a democracy! A society of the ponies, by the ponies, and for the ponies. We do not have a high and mighty monarch with Goddess-like powers ruling over us with an iron hoof. We have a president. A pony elected by ponies to act in the interests of the very ponies that elected them. And if the ponies do not like what the President is doing, they do not cower in fear from a monarch, they vote them out, and put a new, better President in their place. We do not have Ministries. Establishments run by a corrupt aristocracy pushing their own personal agendas at the cost of the ponies they are supposed to be protecting. No, we have Congress. A governing body made up of ponies, elected by ponies, to represent ponies. Just like the President, Congress is not answerable to any all-powerful ruler that will threaten not to bring the sun up if they disagree, they are only answerable to the ponies who elected them.”

“And we do not have war. You may ask, ‘President Snowmane, if there is no war, then why does the Grand Pegasus Enclave have such a large and impressive military.’ Well, that is a fine question, a fine question indeed. You see Wastelanders, that is where you come in. We know there are good ponies down there. We have been watching. And we have been waiting. Waiting for the perfect moment to open the clouds and swoop down to save all of Equestria. But, it saddens me to say that that time has not yet come. As many good ponies are down there, the Enclave’s military is still not large enough to defeat every raider, slaver, monster, and vagabond the Wasteland holds. But take comfort in the fact that we are watching, and we are ready. And we will come to your rescue at the first possible moment. And on that glorious day, the sun will shine on Equestria once again. But, until that day, do not give up hope Wastelanders. The Enclave is there for you.”

As President Snowmane finished his speech, the marching music returned, even louder than before. I switched my PipBuck off and considered what I had just heard. Two voices cried for order in the Wasteland, and I felt I far preferred the first. DJ Pon3 had at least not spoken ill of the Goddesses Celestia and Luna, and he seemed far more caring for the ponies of the Wasteland than the Enclave’s President Snowmane, who hadn’t done much more than to tell them how the Enclave was superior to them in every way.

I turned away from my PipBuck and tried to get into a comfortable position for sleeping. I could hear creatures skittering around in the far corners of the building, but I felt secure enough in the room for the night to go to sleep. Considering the harrowing day I’d had, it didn’t take long.

I awoke quite suddenly a few hours later. At first I thought I’d simply awoken from a bad dream, but as I lay there I began to realize that something didn’t seem quite right. The sounds of monsters in the dark were gone, replace by heavy hooffalls. Pulling up my EFS, I saw that a swarm of red dots were approaching me. Judging by the awful mechanical racket made by them, I had to assume the Steel Rangers had found me.

“Not this floor,” I heard from beneath me, “Try the next; his EFS tag is still showing he’s non-hostile, so capturing him should be easy.”

I panicked as I heard them mention EFS. Apparently the spell was built into their armor much as it was built into my PipBuck. There was no way I could hide now if they could see exactly where I was; it was only a matter of time. Except, maybe there was a way out after all. I pulled the StealthBuck from my saddlebags and slotted it into my PipBuck. One button press later, I was completely invisible. It was a disorienting experience, not being able to see my body, but I was able to back into the corner of the room before the Steel Rangers found me.

“Location reached, but still no tag,” I heard a voice boom from outside the room just before the door exploded into splinters.

A Steel Ranger strode into the office, headlamp lighting things up. She slowly scanned the room, and I tried to remain as still as possible as the light passed over me. The StealthBuck appeared to be working perfectly, and as I’d suspected it had also made me impossible to detect with EFS. I waited as the Steel Ranger stood motionless in the center of the room. I wanted so badly to run out of the room, but I feared I wouldn’t be able to squeeze past the Steel Ranger and out the doorway without bumping into her.

Without warning, the Ranger suddenly grabbed the desk with her forehooves and ripped it out of the ground. It terrified me how little effort it had taken for the armored pony to tear the metal cabinet up. Still, she had given me the opportunity to escape. As she scanned the ground under where the desk had been, I ran past her and out into the hallway.

She turned sharply, looking at the corner I’d been hiding in, but by then I was long gone. I galloped down the hallway as fast as I could, and very nearly ran into another Steel Ranger as she emerged from another room. I scrambled against the floor with my hooves, stopping myself before I impacted with the Ranger’s armor. I ducked as the Ranger turned away from me, her armored tail swinging over my head.

As she cantered off into the distance, her headlamp lighting the whole corridor, I headed in the opposite direction. I cursed myself for being so careless and nearly crashing into her when it easily could have been avoided. I paid closer attention to my EFS as I avoided the Steel Rangers, though it was often difficult to tell which Rangers I had to avoid, since my EFS told me nothing about whether it was detecting targets above or below me.

I tried to reach the building’s entrance, but it seemed there was no way to get there without running into Steel Rangers. I was continuously forced back deeper into the building no matter what I tried, as if the Steel Rangers were herding me. Eventually I found myself entering the stadium.

I had to watch my step carefully, as the steep incline of the seating and stairs made it difficult to make my way around in the dark. Unfortunately, I was unable to use my PipBuck’s lamp to see where I was going without attracting the attention of the Steel Rangers searching the stadium, so I had to move mostly by touch.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Steel Rangers stopped searching the stadium and retreated back into the Vanhoover Sports Center’s main building. I was able to breathe a sigh of relief and let my guard down a bit, but I still kept an eye on my EFS, waiting for the Steel Rangers to give up entirely. Through the night I waited, hoping and praying that they would leave, and that they would do so before my StealthBuck ran out.

Level Up
New Perk: Thick Skin – Your hide is unusually tough and resistant to damage. +25 to damage resistance.
Weapon added: 10mm Pistol
New Quest: Home Sweet Wasteland – Find someplace to belong in the North Equestrian Wasteland
Lockpick +5 (35)
Melee Weapons +1 (6)
Science +4 (44)
Sneak +6 (21)
Unarmed +2 (15)