//------------------------------//
// Better Off Dead 
// Story: From the Ruins 
// by Doctor Derpin 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 1

Better Off Dead

---Spark---

Why are so many ponies so damn stupid? Galvanic Spark wondered to himself as he wandered through the ruins of Philidelphia. He had seen so much death in the past month; almost all of it was simply because somepony did something stupid. It isn’t always the stupid pony that dies is it? He reminded himself. Just the memory of what had happened almost drove him to tears. I cannot go wallowing in the past. That sort of thing is what will get you killed out here! It took a long while for him to shove the memories to the back of his mind; he just could not keep her face from his mind. The haunting yellow mare that he had loved for so long; she had died because he made a stupid mistake. I. NEED. TO. MOVE. He got up and kept walking, not for himself, but for her.

He eventually came across a group of homeless ponies that were convening around a bonfire. Little communities like this were commonplace now. Spark got close enough to hear what was being said, without looking like he wanted to steal some of their precious food. What Spark heard shocked him a little: civil war in Equestria. From what he could piece together, there was a group of ponies claiming that Luna and Celestia were to blame for the coming of the destroyers. This claim was not too uncommon; this group, however, was acting in a violent way. The story they put fourth had “lie” written all over it. A power grab. Spark thought, The pony in charge of that revolt has no idea whether or not the claim is true, he DOES know is that ponies are willing to rally behind it.

While the idea of somepony lying to everypony else and calling for violence was supposed to be evil, Galvanic Spark had never understood the rigid definitions of “good” and “evil.” So all he thought of this revolutionary was that he was smart enough to, not only survive this barren hellscape, but come up with a plan to gain a lot more power. The realization that he was attracting stares from the gathered ponies snapped him back to reality. He left before anything go wrong.

An hour later Spark found himself at the edge of a small reservoir. Water is always helpful. He told himself as he shrugged his supply bags to the ground. Taking the canteen out of his bag he found himself examining the reflection the water created. His dark grey hide was battered and dirty. As he examined more closely he saw that he had more cuts from his last fight on his body than he realized. I’ll clean them up later. As the canteen went under he continued to examine himself; his deep purple mane was caked with dirt and his eyelids were stained with dried tears; the sense of hopelessness had made his eyes, once a bright blue, a pale version of their former selves.

After a few moments of silent contemplation he heard a voice behind him “Looks like ya gotta lotta stuff in dat bag boy.” Spark turned to meet the speaker. It was a Pale green earth pony that had a scar over one eye. “Imma be honest here, give me da stuff or Imma have ta gut ya like a fish.” The thug said as he pulled out a knife.

Spark thought for a moment; he was smaller than most of the ponies a full four years younger than himself. What he always had was his mind and magic. This pony obviously had been relying on strength to get his way. Somepony that tall and muscular would not be used to being outwardly defied by anypony smaller than he was. “I do not believe I will be doing that, sir.” Spark said in his most formal voice.

The brute looked confused for a moment and finally said “I waz hoppin’ for a little fun today, anyways.” Then he lunged; but spark had prepared for this possibility and simply used telekenisis to move a larger rock from the pile into the attacker’s path. After his impact, the thug was dazed. Spark took the opportunity to end the conflict entirely. There was a crunch as a medium sized stone hit the assailant’s head. His neck had snapped.

Galvanic Spark looked at the body and felt nothing. Then, he turned back to his now full canteen. He died because he wasn’t smart enough to live, and out here; if you’re not smart enough to live, you’re better off dead.