• Published 27th May 2012
  • 5,543 Views, 845 Comments

Fallout Equestria : New Roam - Delvius



The city of Roam is tortured by ambient and open hostility. Finally, a Praetorian arises to protect the city like the Legionnaires of old, and nothing will stop him. Nothing but himself, that is.

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Chapter 1 - Blind Justice


Chapter 1
Blind Justice
"Dear Princess Celestia, I wanted to share my thoughts with you... I didn't learn anything! I was right all along!"






There comes a time in every stallion's life when he has to just buck up and do his duty. Because everyone, me included, has a duty that has to be fulfilled. It has to take priority over everything else, even if it hurts. And if it hurts too much, then you have to let go of what's holding you back, even if that hurts too. It's called growing numb, so I've been told by someone I know. Someone whom... I'm not sure if I hate or appreciate beyond compare.

HOWEVER, what annoyed me was that my 'duty' -- and that's a massive overstatement -- was flying up to the ceiling of my Stable to replace the damned light bulbs. Light bulbs, who gives a damn about light bulbs...

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

It was a fine morning in Stable Fifty. The bed was soft, the sheets were wrinkled just right, and the aircon was just at the right temperature. It felt like a little piece of soft, cool heaven amidst all the terrible and crappy hours -- pun intended -- of working as a fucking maintenance pony.

I was so engrossed feeling the cool air and soft mattress that I didn't even hear the door open.

"Goldwreath!" Yelled Lighthouse, a green earth pony buck with a messy gray mane and a coach's mustache, and also our Stable's chief mechanic and my mentor. And also a professional pain in the ass -- the highlight of his skill set, actually.

"Goldwreath! Get up, use those wings of yours, replace the light bulbs, or I'm going to have to get the taser gun I fixed yesterday!" He yelled. Say, did I mention professional pain in the ass? Well, that's because he's a particularly good shot with those taser things, especially at getting people in the flanks. Oooh, that sentence brings back some bad memories...

"Alright, alright. Just stop shouting," I murmured as I covered my face with my pillow. "I'll get up in a minute," I muttered, and pulled the pillow over my head, nearly dosing off again.

Then he pulled the pillow away and smothered me with it, yanking me away from the blissful paradise of miniature hills of bed sheet wrinkles and the veritable winter of aircon. "Ah! Allright! I'm getting up, see?" I grumbled through a face full of pillow, and lots of drool. Sweet Celestia, did I drool that much? Oh, of course I do, who was I kidding? It was like the one thing I could say for certain about my mouth.

"It's about time. Look, if you finish replacing those light bulbs early, we can continue on your gladius training. Shouldn't be hard. Only a few levels have light bulbs that need replacing," He said with minimal interest. I, though, had my eyes snap open at the word 'gladius'.

I immediately got up as quickly as possible, freshened up, and raced down the halls past the steely grey doors and hard metal floor to those damned light bulbs. Five years; I spent five years replacing those things every few days, only occasionally getting a different job. Such horrible and tedious experiences stay with people for their entire lives. How dare those light bulbs get in the way of gladius training?

Oh, wait... you're probably wondering just what is with gladius training, or what a gladius even is. The answer to the latter is simple: a gladius is short stabbing sword used by the ancient Roaman legionnaires. It was NOT primarily a slashing weapon, remember that.

Now, thing is, gladius training suits me. It's not like replacing light bulbs, it's something I enjoy and it feels like a part of me. It's one of the few things I get to do in this place, being a 'technician' (even though I wasn't, and admittedly still not, very good at it), that didn't involved getting shot in the ass with a taser because I accidentally turned on a welder. How was I supposed to know it was on? He told me it wasn't powered! Long story short, I was shot thrice, one on both cheeks, with a taser. The last shot... well, it's not important.

Anyway, back to the topic.

I was gliding down the stairs to the basement, hurriedly and with no attention to making little noise. The basement was also our museum for ancient Roaman stuff. Things like pilums, more gladiuses, scutums, caligae, lorica chest plates, and squatamatas -- the standard equipment of Roaman soldiers.

Amidst all the things that I could think about, the exasperation of the moment made me spare a look at my flanks. My cutie mark was a pair of golden wreaths on each side of a golden Roaman numeral 'III', shaped like the columns of a Roaman pavillion.

Now, what did that even mean? I got it the first time I played the role of a praetorian in one of our class plays, but I still didn't get what it meant, or for that matter why I even got it for a cutie mark. But if there was one thing I was sure about, it was that my cutie mark -- the symbol of post Flavian emeperor praetorians, who held a high rank in the army and represented their power with the triple numeral -- did NOT mean that I was supposed to be in fucking Maintenance.

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, exasperated and sleep-deprived, and asked aloud, "Why in Celestia's name am I a mechanic?" I looked specifically at one of the light bulbs above me, pretending it was Celestia's sun. Suddenly, it flickered and went dark for several moments before coming back to life, still flickering. Ah, light bulbs, why does it seem like you things don't only function this crapily in this one particular fallout shelter. Granted, I had never even been in other fallout shelters (as of that time in my life), but I was pretty sure that good lighting was a priority, it just had to be!

I looked at it's number with no enthusiasm. "B-20. Hmmm...let's see...B-20... You aren't on the list, but I might as well replace you anyway." I flew up to it and started unscrewing the bulb with my hooves.

That was, of course, when a mare's voice from below called out, "Probably because you can reach the ceiling. It's not like any of the zebras or earth ponies, or unicorns in here have the ability to maintain that place. Well the unicorns could, if they weren't lazy as hell."

I knew that voice. That was the voice of one aqua blue earth pony mare with a silver mane and a cutie mark of a bottle of wonderglue next to a broken vase, and one of our Stable's REAL mechanics, and also my good friend, Wonderglue. You know, it's kind of strange how when a pony is named something, say... me, Goldwreath, that their cutie mark often times becomes something really similar to their name. It's like a conspiracy about names...

I looked down at her, just a little bit cheerier than before, and said, "Yeah well, if they weren't lazy asses then I could focus on gladius training. This has got to be the worst job in the Stable." Seriously, what other job could be as boring? Or, generally, pointless.

"Oh don't be so sure about that. Rainydays' job is worse. I don't think any pony or zebra would want to a be toilet cleaner," She said as I finished screwing in the new bulb and tossed the old one into a bin marked 'light bulbs'.

"Yeah, well, at least her job has some challenge to it. Mine is so simple it bores me to hell. If I were a mechanic -- a GOOD, ACTUAL, CUTIE MARK APPROVED mechanic, which I am not -- then at least I could take some joy in the ridiculous task of changing light bulbs." I replied, which earned me a quick laugh from her.

"Yeah, I never understood why they threw you into Maintenance. Your cutie mark definitely doesn't show it." She paused, scratching her chin as if in thought. "Maybe... maybe it's because they don't know what your cutie mark means? It doesn't exactly fit into any criteria of any of the departments."

Huh. I never thought of it like that. Was... was that true? Was I stuck in this crappy job because no one knew what my cutie mark said I was good at? Great. Now even my cutie mark was screwing with me.

"Yeah..." I drawled, shaking my head. "Hmph. Maybe. Anyway, I got to get the rest of these bulbs screwed in. I have gladius training later, and it's one of the few things on this place that I enjoy." And by 'one of the few things I enjoy', I meant 'basically the only thing I enjoy'... that I could perform on my own and without needing other people.

"Oh? And what are the others?" She asked with a mildly curious, mildly sympathetic look.

"Well, there's Close Combat training, reading my magazines and comics, and mare fl-..." OKAY! I was not going to finish that last word! Come on, Goldwreath! At least change it to something less embarrassing! "...friends! Yes, friends of mine who are mares! Most of the stallions here are boring!" I said with a nervous smile. A smile which, if she weren't looking away from me in thought, I'm sure she would have known was not sincere.

Now, I know what you're thinking. 'Goldwreath, you dog!' 'Goldwreath, pervert!' Well, here's the thing: from where I am now, I look back upon my life on occasion. And, sometimes, I just want to share the stuff that I remember. One such thing is that I had barely ever gotten any social contact in the Stable, especially from mares. I guess that lack of contact over the years slowly made me... curious is all I'll say. And NOT just in the sexual way, mind you. I wasn't THAT kind of pony.

"Not really. For example, Harddrive is really..." She started to say.

That was when I bolted down the hall, saying, "Nope! Boring!" Of course it was quite the opposite; it wasn't boring, rather a nice change from the tedium of day-to-day life, if only it wasn't about... well, stuff that made me uncomfortable.

She disappeared from my line of sight, but I could swear that I heard the phrase 'is really good in bed'. Definitely not something a stallion like me should know! With great disturbance brewing in my head, I raced down the halls as quick as I could and left her behind.

Ugh, why does the one social interaction I get that's different from most have to end up in flames?

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

Well, at least I was done replacing all the light bulbs and was finally slicing through hardened hay dummies. It got my mind off of how 'good' Harddrive was, according to Wonderglue, at... yeah, nevermind. As of now, I'm getting nauseous just from the mere thought of it.

But I digress. What mattered at that particular moment time was that I was at least beating my time record. That meant I was getting good, and that meant I might get into the security department. Which meant -- come on, say it with me -- a MORE EXCITING JOB!

When the last dummy fell to the ground and I stood victorious on their corpses, proudly looking at the ceiling, Lighthouse metaphorically shot me down. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You're good with a gladius. What do you want, a promotion?"

"Well, I could definitely use the additional coupons..." Maybe coupons for extra time in the movie theater...

"Ahh, shut it! Ok, look, you maimed those dummies three seconds quicker than last time. You made a mistake when you accidentally hit the hilt against the wooden support. If you hadn't done that... I'd say you could have gotten five seconds instead of three."

I sat down hard and said, "I could have? Well, then I need to go again!" Okay, I might have sucked at that maintenance crap, but I took my weapons and training (not to mention muscle mass, for the mares -- curiosity, if it is to be piqued, I learned, had to be aroused in both parties, apparently.) more seriously than I had my schooling.

He just gave me a flat look, and finally said, "Yeah, listen, 'hero', those were my last dummies. We'll have to wait 'till the recyclers can cough up enough material to make more. Should take about a week." WHAT?! A WEEK?!

"What?! I can't wait that long! What will I do while waiting?!" I screamed like a foal who'd been told they could have their dessert after they ate their veggies.

"Don't know, don't care. Try seeing if Harddrive or Wonderglue have a job for you. Those light bulbs should last a while, anyway," He said with minimal interest in my plight, and started trotting out of the room.

"Dad... please?" I called out weakly, then shoved a hoof in my mouth. Had I just said that word?

He stopped where he was, slowly averting his gaze to the floor. Then he sighed as he looked over his shoulder at me. "Kiddo..." he started, trotting over to me. "I'm sorry kid. I know it ain't easy being the only orphan in the Stable's history... and I can't sympathize with that, no matter what I'll try." He sat down next to me and patted my back. "And I'm sorry that I can't make you feel like you still have parents. I ain't one." With that last word he patted me on the back again, then opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out but a cracked little whine, and he looked away from me.

"I gotta go," he said at last, then hastily trotted out of the room. I didn't try to call after him this time. I always did freeze up when... stuff I didn't like popped up. Events that shocked me, words that got to me, suggestions that concerned me; you name it, and if it's something that I'm not gonna like, chances are I'll freeze up.

A few minutes passed and I had finally gotten over the immensely uncomfortable interaction I had just had. "Well, fuck. What can I do...." I looked up at the light bulb on the ceiling. It was taunting me...

'...come replace some more light bulbs, Goldwreath. Come replace some more...'

Okay, I was just told the news less than thirty seconds ago, and I was already going insane! I had to find something to do! Hell, even something along the lines of 'clean some toilets' would... be, ugh, welcome.

And so, with the intent of finding something to keep my sanity in check until new dummies were made, I got up and started trotting out of the room and into the hallway, where the many light bulbs and not a single pony or zebra made me cringe. Everything seemed so... creepy...

'Oh, Celestia, please not the light bulbs! Please, anything but the light bulbs!' I thought to myself, terrified at the sight of the dozens of light bulbs.

After a few moments of trotting in the hall to find Wonderglue (I had completely ruled out Harddrive, because I just didn't feel comfortable around him), I finally came upon her room; it was only a few dozen feet from mine. I knocked on it twice, and their were the sounds of hoofsteps immediately after.

The door opened, and Wonderglue peeked out, looking me over with slight tiredness in her eyes, signified by her eye bags. "Oh. Goldwreath. What do you need?" She asked with a tired, sleepy tone. Well, not everyone in Maintenance finished as early as me, I guess. Or for that matter, got as much sleep as me; one of the perks of having a job where I do almost nothing time-consuming.

"Hey, Glue. Due to the sad, sad truth of not being able to practice for another week, I need you to give me a job that doesn't involve..." I looked away from her at the light bulbs around me, and shivered. "... light bulbs." It may have been a little dramatic for something as benign as a bulb, I know, but trust me when I say that, if you've done nothing but replace them your entire working life, that you would also become paranoid.

She considered me for a moment, eyeing me up and down curiously. For just a second, there was this suspicious look on her face that suggested she was trying to discern possible ulterior motives for my appearance. That confused me; what could she suspect a stallion like me would be doing in her room?

Then she smiled good-naturedly, sweeping aside my own anxiety, and finally let me into her room.

"You know weapons, right? 'Cause the Security department needs me to maintain their weapons. Guns and melee included. I would, but since you offered to help, and because you know weapons better than me, you do it," She said as she climbed back onto her bed. I just watched her as she lay down, feeling a curiosity in me stir. She noticed me, and I turned my head away and watched her floor like it was the most interesting thing in existence, but I just know my burning cheeks betrayed me.

"That's, uh... nice. So, is that it? Nothing else?" I asked awkwardly, feeling myself stupid and sluggish. If there WAS something else, she would have told me, right?

"Hmmm..." She replied, looking up at the ceiling. "Nope. Just that. Not much going on with the Stable right now, actually. Good for us Maintenance ponies and zebras, though. We get a break!" She said with a delighted little chuckle.

"Yeah, I know. Though, uh, you and the other REAL maintenance guys might appreciate it more than I do. All I do is replace light bulbs," I replied, to which she shrugged in indifference.

I stood there for a few more moments, catching her attention. She looked at me strangely for one moment, then said, "Well, you can go now, if you want to, you know. Not much else to talk about right now." There was this tone in her voice suggesting she was wondering just what I was still doing in there. Even I was wondering just WHAT I was still doing there.

I probably sounded like a broken audio recorder, but I managed to say, "I can? Oh, great! I usually wait for people to dismiss me before I go. Hehe..." Wow, the stammering wasn't in my mental visualization either.

My response was already lame in my mind, but even more so in real life -- probably because most of my head was flooded with a nagging curiosity that just screamed for me to get on the bed. I wondered why it was tempting me to do that.

"Anyyyyway... seeya!" I said as I backed out of the room and darted around the corner in the least rushed manner possible.

But I was stunned mid-flight when I heard her giggling. And that wasn't exactly a giggle a mare gets when tickled. I looked back behind me at the doorway to see her peeking at me, just locking my gaze at me with those eyes... those beautiful, green eyes.

Then she closed the door on me. Of course she did. Mares did that when you stay in their rooms too long. And when you were sporting burning cheeks. And when you wanted to get on their beds. Yeah... I didn't exactly know what that meant back then.

Sweeping away all thoughts of that rather strange event, I started making my way down the halls, just smiling back at any pony or zebra I just so happened to come across. Only some of them returned it, much to my confusion.

'I really need to make more friends,' I thought. Or at least I thought it was me... basically that feeling you get when you think something even if you didn't actually think it. Still, I shook my head and cleared my thoughts, just to be safe. You never know when insanity takes you in the type of world I live in.

"No, you're not crazy yet," I reassured myself, though I got the strangest little nag of a feeling that I was going to be very wrong very soon.

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

Well, at least I actually knew how to maintain and repair these guns. Honestly though, when I caught sight of all these weapons of organized destruction, I could have sworn that a part of me that I never knew existed took over. How did I even know that the shotgun I was cleaning was an IF-90 Striker? Probably from that magazine on weapons I read a few weeks back, but I just skimmed. I didn't actually really read that magazine, just looked at the pictures which were MUCH more interesting than three pages of text all about a loading mechanism. I read, sure, but I happened to want the subject to change after each paragraph.

At least someone was appreciating what I was doing, and I knew that because the Security pony watching me, Kevlar Vest, actually decided to compensate me for my work with a coupon to a 'Free CALIBER Magazine, issue #12'. Well, it would give me something to read later on, when I finished a book series about magic hoof rings.

I wiped and I wiped, and did just that for about an hour. Boredom was not a problem, as I had long sought a different job aside from replacing you-know-whats. Even this job, which I'm sure some people would find tedious, was welcome.

Upon turning to the next weapon, I think my body orgasmed. Such magnificent weapons of war and calculated slaughter were just appealing to me, I don't quite know why.

That was a HEV Anti Armor, 50.cal, high velocity, 'Lightningbolt' sniper rifle, modified with a barrel for extra large explosive rounds. It didn't even look like a regular sniper rifle! It was practically a tank gun that was somehow capable of being fired by a pony or zebra on the ground. I turned to Kevlar Vest, questions flaring up in my head.

"How the hell do you fire this thing? And why do we even need a sniper rifle of such power in the Stable?" I asked, and he chuckled in my direction, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

"Well, the Overmare thinks that in the long, narrow hallways of the Stable, that, if we were under threat, whatever hostiles were inside would probably line up single file, then BLAM! Thing could punch through ten bodies, maybe more. Of course, since we haven't been attacked or anything, it's just gathering dust. Shame really, that thing could do some serious damage. It can only be handled by unicorns, or a really strong battle saddle with a sure-legged pony or zebra" He said, taking in the sight of the immensely powerful weapon and whistled.

I marveled at the gun, and handled it with the utmost respect and care as I cleaned it and wiped away the dust. Then I applied some grease on the parts where the mechanism made raspy noises when shifted.

The next weapons weren't of nearly as much power as the HEV rifle, but each was still capable of killing me in one shot, if it hit me in the right place, and for that I gave them all due respect. My eyes noticed a unicorn mare with a bright red mane, a yellow coat, and crosshair cutie mark enter the room, and I saw her eyes scan the room with this look of deranged paranoia.

Bloodshot was her name. I wouldn't have known if it weren't for her name tag, though. Even if I HAD seen her before. Like I said, I didn't get much formal contact with many other members of the Stable.

She galloped to Kevlar crazily, and for just a moment he seemed like he would have pulled out his weapon and shot her. She reached him, skidding to a stop, and started ranting unintelligibly. From their talk, I discerned she was in Security too. Apparently, she had lost her shotgun and was hoping beyond hope that it was here.

"Try checking the table," The stallion said, causing her to snap her eyes to my direction. She trotted over briskly and looked over the collection for a long moment, eyeing each gun with eyes like magnifying glasses.

Then, finally, her eyes lit up and she declared in triumph, "AHA, there you are you little SoB!" She picked up one of the IF-90 strikers in her hooves and raised it up in the air proudly, grinning like a maniac.She looked at the polished metal, then turned to me with a gracious little nod, and said, "Thanks for cleaning my shotty, pal! Thing gets dustier than a hundred year old table when I leave it for ten minutes, I swear..." Her voice trailed off.

"No problem," I replied with a little nod. "Just... doing my job," I said with a grin of my own. Hey, I might actually get this job if I was good enough at it!

She then left, leaving me to my duties. Well, I just had to clean thirty three more guns. That wasn't so much, right? I looked at the number of guns I had cleaned. Six. Oh well, thirty three wasn't so much. It had only taken an hour to clean those six. It wouldn't take that long, and definitely the fact that I liked this job would help me out.

Right?

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

I was exhausted. I really didn't think that cleaning guns would take a lot out of my energy. There were only thirty nine! Was I really letting myself go that bad? Clearly there was some kind of conspiracy here; I just knew that I was still fit as I ever was.

I looked at myself in my mirror, and I saw my crimson coat glistening from grease and sweat, as well as being darkened by dirt. My golden eyes were red and puffy -- I had teared a bit from the dust. My body trembled from fatigue, and I just wanted to sleep. Still, I did spend a minute admiring those glorious leg muscles I spent weeks building up. It's a shame that they were shaking under the weight of my numb upper body.

I went to my bed, curled up under the sheet, locked my door (in your face, Lighthouse) and fell asleep almost immediately.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I was trotting down the hallway to the Atrium. I barely ever got to go to the Atrium, as I spent most of my time on the lower maintenance levels. At most I got to go, what, once a week? Proper social interaction was extremely rare for me, as I said.

As I continued down the hall, there was a loud, metallic 'JING' behind me. I turned around and saw that one of the pipes had exploded, and that foul-smelling brown water was flowing out in great rivulets. Wonderglue came from around a corner and nearly puked at the reek of the stench coming from it. As she started diagnosing it, she gestured at me with her hooves in a way that said 'go, I got this'. Leaving her, I continued on my way to the main hub of social activity in the Stable. Then I heard another loud, mechanical 'JING'. Then another, and another and another...

'She's got a lot of work on her hooves,' I thought, and grimaced at the disgusting thought.

I was about to turn the corner to the wide open and circular space of the Atrium, when she screamed. And not just a regular 'Celestia, this stinks like shit!' scream, it was a scream someone gave when something real bad happened. I turned and galloped towards her, and from the sounds of hooves behind me, I wasn't the only one. My heart started thundering in my ears as my adrenaline shot through my veins like electricity on power cables. If she was in distress, I would do everything in my power to get her out of it; I was not letting one of my few friends get hurt.

When I got to her, closing her eyes and shaking in a corner, I saw it.

Bloody gore.

Dried drops of crimson liquid and shredded guts and flesh stuck to the steel walls of the room like moss to a rock. Limb bits and muscle strings lay littered about the floor like unswept confetti at a party. All of this was coming from a corpse so split open and horribly disfigured that I puked, along with several others. And what hit me next was that I knew who it was : it was Lighthouse.

I approached her cautiously and with no intent but to get her out of this horrible place, but then everyone simply started screaming at me, "YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!" Their accusations thundered throughout the halls and echoed off the steel, rumbling through the floor and up my legs.

I rounded on them in utter bafflement. "What? What the hell do you mean? I didn't do anything! You people are mad!" My confusion spiked as I saw them approach, seeming angry and disgusted. I tried to escape, flying above the crowd, but some of the zebras in the crowd jumped up and pulled me down. They pounded and stomped me to near unconsciousness, and I felt my bones starting to flex under the pressure of their blows. At last they stopped and lifted me over their heads, and started carrying me away.

I struggled against their grip, grunting and yelling for help. Through the blurriness of it all I saw Wonderglue and the Overmare -- who had always been fair and wise in judgments -- glaring at me from the edge of the crowd. I kicked away my attackers and galloped for them, only to have myself tripped as they gripped my hindlegs. I reached out to them, yelling, "You! Help me! This -- AGH! -- this is madness!"

But no. They would not help. Only glare and shake their heads. There was to be no justice for the actions against me or Lighthouse. Only betrayal, and the thought of it all left me furious and my mind focused on nothing but killing them all.

But before those thoughts could continue, I felt several pairs of hooves reach up to grab my wings.

I wailed in pure agony and thrashed for all I was worth as the burning sting of my skin tearing surged through my nerves like lava. The crackling of cartilage and tendon rippled through the air in sickening snaps, and with each twist it felt as though my very uniqueness as a pegasus was falling further and further away from me. And then at last, with a resounding crack of cartilage and bone, my wings were gone. The agony receded to a pulsating throb, and I ceased my futile struggle. I only cried to myself quietly, furious and humiliated.

We reached our destination: the door. It groaned and rumbled through the ground as it slowly swung to the side, revealing my first ever glimpse of the outside: it was absolutely nothing -- a pure, unbreakable darkness that was so thick I could almost feel it flooding into the Stable like shadowy tentacles from the depths of zebra culture Tartarus. And then, all at once, they threw me into the abyss.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I woke up, and I found myself still in my room, my heart palpitating in my chest like an overworked... well, heart. The sight of a bloodless room was an immense relief. That dream... it felt so real. I didn't actually kill anyone, did I? Surely, someone like me would never do that. Then again, I was in Maintenance, and that meant that maybe something might have broken... welll, that was probably ridiculous, but still.

I got off my bed and checked the time. Six AM. Well, my alarm was just a few minutes from now, anyway. I checked the door; still locked. I fixed my bed, got in my maintenance barding and turned off the alarm clock, then went outside. I greeted my earth pony neighbor in front of me as he yawned and rubbed his eyes while he stood underneath his doorway. He peeked at me and gave me a sleepy smile, and waved back at me.

Well, it was nice to know that the day started on a good note.

Everything was normal, the occasional zebra or pony trotting about doing whatever their job was. Well, no light bulbs needed replacing, no weapons needed cleaning, Rainyday was in charge of toilets, Wonderglue for general maintenance, Screwdriver was maintaining the wiring. Could that mean...

I stopped in front of Lighthouse's office, and found a note. Strange. He never left me notes, not even when he went missing for two days because he was in medical for his colon... yeah, I probably shouldn't say.

Still, change could come whenever it wanted, I guess. This is what the note said:

"Goldwreath,

No maintenance needed today, all the light bulbs are still fine. Just get some more shuteye or something. If you need me, I'll be in the Atrium in case some maintenance job pops up. Don't bother me unless you have to, got it?

Lighthouse"

"Well, weird dream aside, today's looking good. Now... what should I do?" I trotted over to the staircase leading down and into the museum, finding that the ancient armor and weapons were still in good condition, not to mention the well preserved ancient Roaman robes and sashes. Probably from the magical enchantment on the glass, no metal or cloth could avoid rust and decay for two centuries without some kind of magic.

For quite a while, I just stood down there and admired how the ancient Zebras crafted their equipment. All the armor pieces were of uniform thickness, and were made of steel. Of course, these were probably modern remakes, but the general design was still the same. All the weapons were built to follow a specific purpose, with the gladius being an excellent stabbing weapon. When I was still a colt, I once actually broke into the glass casings with a lockpick and a screwdriver. Of course, I got punished afterwards. Still, I felt pretty awesome wearing that stuff, even if it was much bigger than me.

And then there was this magnificent suit of ancient Roaman praetorian armor, standing gleaming upon it's pedestal at the center of the room. I had always liked that piece the most; the plumes were an excellent touch on the Roaman's part. Oh, how I many times dreamt of having it for my own after visiting the museum.

But that was ridiculous. The very first Overmare of the Stable had been given specific orders from... well, someone, that the Stable's directive was to safeguard the cultural greatness of Roam and her empire, and that no one, not even the Overmare, was allowed to handle the pieces.

Which is probably why the Overmare back when I was young cut down my family's rations for two days...

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

When I finally got bored two hours later, I at last decided to head back up to get some more shuteye. After all, while I DID feel better than I did last night, I was still pretty fatigued. Some more sleep would do me good, anyway.

It was when I turned a corner on the seventh basement of the Stable that I ran into a sizable crowd right outside a utility office. There were worried murmurs and more than a few 'what happened?' inquiries. My arrival got me a few strange and even worried looks, though why I couldn't tell. What bothered me, though, was that there was security tape right outside the door, with a Security pony guarding the entrance.

I went over to him, shoving my way as respectfully as possible past the others, and asked the million bit question: "What the hell happened here?" He just looked at me for a moment, examining me with this hard look in his eye. It would have intimidated me if I wasn't bigger than him.

At last he answered, "There was an incident here. Something that's never happened before in the history of the Stable." He grimaced, and looked at the ground with brewing disgust. "There's... there's blood all over the place. What kind of sick bastard did this? Everything was fine in the Stable, why the hell would anyone want to ruin two-hundred years of peace? Why, when I find out who did this, I'm gonna shove my baton so far up their ass-..."

"Yeah, okay, no need to get in the details there," The zebra mare next to me said, stopping him short of revealing the... details of his threat.

I had to agree with that. Nobody really needed to know what he was going to do with his baton, much less if he was going to use it for penetrating something instead of whacking. But now my head was clouded with worry, my heart heavy with rage and disbelief at this event. Who was dead, and WHY would that imbecile ruin the Stable's peaceful history? I really hoped it wasn't Lighthouse or someone else; I had read more than one book where the dream the character had was some kind of foreshadowing for some kind of similar event. In fact, I hoped this was just some sick prank or something. There was more than one time where I thought that the ketchup from the cafeteria was blood, not least of all because I once thought I cut off my hoof when I sliced open a packet of tomato sauce.

So, I asked the other million bit question, "Who was killed? Was it... was it Lighthouse? Please don't tell me it was him!" I was shaking now. I never really liked the guy, but he was kind of a father figure to me. Really, he was one of the few in the Stable who at least seemed interested, or at least concerned, with what I did. He was one of the few who cared and was there for me when my parents both died in a sub-basement fire. He took me in when I was just a colt. I never really appreciated him much, but if he was dead... well, then I would have a lot of stuff to say to his corpse

The guard just looked at me with a grave and sad expression, then finally, "No."

My heart let out a joyous whoop of relief. Oh, this was such good news! I could only imagine what I would have done if he died...

I was about to let out a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding when he spoke up again, "Not just him."

I froze right there, and slowly turned to face him.

"He's... dead?" But... but... n-no! NO!

I couldn't bear it, not at that time. Anger and pure disbelief flooded into my mind, causing me to fall hard on my haunches and look at the ground, seething. I could already feel my eyes starting to produce tears, even if I had more anger than sadness inside me.

One earth pony mare had the kindness to comfort me, placing her hoof on my shoulder. I didn't care; I was much to emotionally overcome to care.

Finally, after about a minute and more worried statements, I looked back at the guard, tears on my cheeks and rage burning in my chest. "Who else was killed?" I asked. He looked particularly saddened at that, eyes looking down to the floor. I could sense a similar fury in him; I could see the strain on his face, past his own tears.

I was almost convinced he wouldn't answer, when he said with a voice so strained it thrummed, "All the head of departments, and... my father."

Oh, fuck. So, whoever this bastard was decided to kill MORE than just one person huh? Still, I could at least give him some sympathy. I was about to get up to give him some kind of comforting gesture, when the door slid open. Immediately, he wiped his face with his hoof, and put on a sterner expression.

"We have the security cam footage, we can find out who did this as soon as this mess is cleaned up," Said Kevlar Vest, eyes hard as steel and face grim. He looked over at me and the guard, and his expression softened a bit. "I'm sorry, Goldwreath. You too, Muzzleflash. I know what some of the people inside meant to you," He said in a tone far more gentle that I would have thought to come from him. "Don't worry, we're gonna put this fucker to the electric chair." He glanced back inside and called, "You done yet, Bloodshot? We have to let Maintenance in to clean up the mess so we can start processing the footage."

A reply came from the workshop inside, slightly muffled by the walls. "Almost, this bastard rigged the power tools to overload next time they were used. Probably in an effort to get us to waste our time. The damage is pretty severe, though. We might need to get new tools entirely."

At that, Kevlar just sighed. "Again, I'm sorry... but you and the rest of Maintenance are going to have to clean up this mess."

My heart sank at that. Not only was I suffering the loss of a dear friend, but I was going to have to shove his corpse into cremator? This... this just stank of all forms of injustice! Well... at least I wasn't alone, and that I could take a little comfort in. I don't think I could have bore it if I were alone. This... all this... it was too sudden.

The crowd was beginning to disperse, even the security team. Muzzleflash had expressed desire to stay, though, and Kevlar decided to give him at least that. Wonderglue and the whatever maintenance personnel there were stayed behind, and she trotted towards me along with the others. I just looked at them, tears streaking down my face.

"Come on. We have to do this," She said in such a soft and kind tone that I almost cried again. But I couldn't. I had to be strong right now. Lighthouse wouldn't want me to break down -- he'd trained me hard, it would be a shame to bawl right now. And so, hard as it was, I got up and got in with them.

The stench wasn't that bad, actually. It was just a really strong, coppery, slightly rancid stench. Nonetheless, I was forced to find a corner where there was a minimal amount of gore and let it loose there. Cards and a few bottles of plant juice were scattered about the floor, making the place look like it had been the sight of a party of some sort. My eyes took in the trails of coppery fluid on the ground.

Then I saw all the bodies.

Whoever this person was, he or she had killed all the head of departments in a brutal and unnecessary manner, though from the looks of it, he or she had probably taken the time to mutilate the corpses after they were already dead.

There was Syringe from medical, stomach split open from gunshots and hooves cut off, on the workshop table. There was Recoil from Security, head blown off, sitting in a corner. And there, in the training area, was a green corpse with a messy gray mane. At the sight of his many, many blade wounds and severed limbs, I almost collapsed and my stomach decided to void itself again. Luckily, there was nothing left inside.

As I stood there in a fit of coughing and attempted puking, Wonderglue trotted up to me and helped me steady myself. "If you want, I can take care of him," she offered, looking me in the eye. She really would, I could tell.

I managed to find my voice. "Thanks... but no. I have to do this myself. He would want me to get my own shit done," I replied, and to my comfort she smiled and pulled me closer, and told me something I really needed to hear.

"You are strong," She whispered, and then she went away to help the others remove Syringe from the table. They were having a hard time of it not because of anything like his skin being plastered to the surface, but simply because they too looked like they could barely stand the sight of it. I slowly approached Lighthouse's corpse.

"Hey, Lighthouse," I said to his lifeless body. It was ridiculous; he was dead, he couldn't respond. But I didn't care right now. The last thing I said to him was just a bunch of whining, so I guess I wanted to make up for that a bit. "Damn, you look like crap." I was about to lay my hoof on his sides, but then I took a few steps closer to his head and whispered, "Don't worry. We're gonna get justice for this. Just wait." And it was true. No matter what would happen later on, I would. Justice was absolute; it could NOT be avoided forever.

I began shifting his body slowly, careful to not seem like I was desecrating his corpse, but then froze. This... this was already a personal attack that I wanted justice for. Now it was even more personal, and I wanted to rip this guy's chest open at this point! I would tear out his or her heart and shove it down their fucking throat!

This monster not only killed a person I cared for and people loved by my friends, but this bastard also used Lighthouse's own gladius to kill him! I slowly removed the blade from the body, looked at it, and said as sincerely as I could, "Whoever you are, you're gonna die by this blade."

I looked to the body in front of me, still seething in rage. I grimaced, knowing what had to be done. The others were doing their jobs, even if they didn't want to. It was their duty, even if they didn't like it.

Right now, this was my duty.

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

I was lying down in my room, cleaning the blade that had taken the life of my friend. It was still sharp; Lighthouse must have loved this blade and took care of it. And he must have cared for me to let me use it in the first place. You know, as he and the others were being cremated, surrounded by more than half of the Stable's population, I silently asked him for permission to have the blade. I would take good care of it, just like he did. I would never part with it, no matter what. It was ridiculous, I know, but... well, at times even I did things that didn't really have a profound affect on things.

Suddenly, there was Kevlar's voice over the intercoms. His voice was tired and shaky as he said, "All citizens, please report to the Atrium. The footage is done processing and we will exact justice on the murderer. Security ponies and zebras will make sure the rest of the Stable is empty. We're gonna get this bastard."

At that, I sheathed the blade, put on my barding, and started trotting to the Atrium.

"Yes. Exact justice," I murmured darkly, and opened my door and started trotting out. I ignored the others joining me in the halls, and continued on in silence.

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

I was within the spherical chamber of the Atrium, among all the hundreds of the the Stable's population. The heat of all their presences and all their breathing was slightly suffocating. Thank goodness for the Stable's usage of aircon. They were all whispering to one another, worried expressions on most of their faces.

Wonderglue came from somewhere within the crowd and got up beside me and asked just loud enough to be heard over the crowd, "Who do you think it is?"

"I don't know, but I'm gonna' make sure he doesn't get away with this." was all I replied. She gave me a troubled look, then looked away at the platform above. I looked around as well, and I spotted at least two guards at each entrance, each armed with a non-lethal crowd control shotgun. Good, I didn't want this murderer getting away.

Then Kevlar, Bloodshot, The Overmare, a unicorn mare I recognized from past interactions as Torchlight, and two other security ponies I didn't know got onto the platform on the second floor of the circular Atrium. The platform extended forward, bringing them near the center of the chamber, right below the oculus-like hole at the Stable's roof that provided most of the illumination for the Atrium. After that, a large screen extended from behind them. Pointed down so that all we had to do was look up.

"Settle down!" Kevlar yelled into a microphone, silencing the crowd in his aftermath. "This madness has to stop. This INJUSTICE will be addressed."

The Overmare then took her turn, declaring, "Whoever this murderer is will be revealed in this footage. All the entrances are guarded, so if the murderer would like to just give up now, do so." No one stepped forward, much to my anger and disgust. What a fucking coward.

"Very well," She said, sounding just a touch disappointed, and slid the tape into the Atrium projector. Immediately, the black and white footage began to play. Why the cameras were limited to crappy black and white, I don't know; our movies and television were HD, why not the security cams?

For the first few moments, nothing happened, although we could hear the sounds of cards being shuffled and laughter from inside the office. Bottles clinked on their surfaces, and the thumping of hoofsteps on the metal floor came time and time again.

"Hey Lighthouse, got an ace?" Asked a mare which I assumed was Syringe.

"Nope," Lighthouse replied simply, and someone snickered from within the room. More bottles clinked against each other, followed by some suppressed laughter.

After a few more moments, it turned out the victor was Recoil. And, apparently, the reward was all their plant juice bottles. That bit of info got strange looks from the great majority of us within the Atrium.

As the third bottle was popped open with a soft 'hiss', there was movement in the hall. The form of a pony began to appear out of the shadows, with a silenced SMG on one side of a battle saddle and and a silenced assault rifle on the other.

My eyes widened and I tensed, staring at the screen like it was the last thing I would ever see. My anxiety and anger blended together in my head to make me feel like I needed to punch the very image of that murdering bastard just to fell better. Wonderglue noticed my tension, and put a hoof on my shoulder. I relaxed a bit, a bit... but enough to not attack a mere object.

As the murderer approached the light coming from the door, we got our first good look at the killer. The Overmare immediately paused the footage, and we all stepped forward to observe the screen. What I saw nearly stopped my heart right then and there.

The murderer was a pegasus stallion with a slightly long, messy mane. The color of his coat and mane could only be seen in black and white. But what made everyone gasp and look at me was the stallion's cutie mark. It was a pair of wreaths, each on one side of a Roaman numeral 'III'. We knew who the killer was now.

It was me.

Everyone I looked at looked back at me with a look of horror, and even Wonderglue was stunned by the footage. I just looked back at each of them, their faces mirroring my own shock and surprise. "It wasn't me!" I hissed at them. They just continued looking at me, staring at me like I was a monster, a piece of filth. This... this wasn't right! IT COULDN'T BE!

I tried to take a step back, still overcome with confusion and a rage screaming for the truth, when the overmare yelled out over the crowd, "ARREST HIM! Don't let him get away!"

I turned to look up at her glaring daggers down at me. She seemed to be promising all kinds of hell in store for me, which was a shocking sight to see from someone who had seemed so kind for the length of her term. I disregarded that and galloped through the crowd, gaining enough momentum to take off. None of them tried to stop me; I think that they were too surprised to believe it themselves.

An agonizing sting shot through my spine like an icicle had stabbed my flesh, making me yelp in suppressed pain. One of the guards shot at me! The non-lethal pellets didn't penetrate my skin, but it really hurt! But it wasn't enough to bring me down, though. I could still get away! Find someway to prove my innocence. I could...

But that train of though was broken as each one of the guards were starting to take shots at me. Blast after blast shot out at me, hitting my wings. They were going to bring me down to the ground! I tried to take cover on a platform of the second floor, but just as I reached the guard rail, Muzzleflash popped out of the corner and blasted me once in the face, and twice in the chest. I fell off the guard rail, trying to flap my wings.

Then everything went black as I hit the ground.

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

I woke up to find myself in the Security station. My limbs were bound tightly to the wall and my wings were wrapped in thick cloth, suppressing all but the barest of movements. I panicked and started tugging with futility against my restraints, creating quite a hassle as I did.

"This isn't happening," I murmured, and my breath quickened its pace as I began to panic and struggle to break free. "This isn't happening this isn't happening this isn't happening..."

A guard who had been sitting down in the corner of the room noticed all the noise I was making and promptly checked up on me. "He's awake," He said, and a zebra mare entered from the doorway. They started making their way towards me, only fanning the flames of my panic.

"Look, this is all a misunderstanding, I'm not the-..." I started, hoping to still be able to escape undue persecution. I was framed, dammit! Did NONE of them trust me enough to know that? None at all?

Then he knocked the wind out of me with a very painful buck to my chest. I choked on my words, and ended up in a fit of coughing.

As I fought to gather some air, he turned back to me and said, "Shut it. There's no point. We checked the footage over and over again, and we confirmed that it wasn't tampered with in anyway. I don't care what you have to say in your defense, you're going to brought to justice."

After gathering up enough breath, I finally managed to ask, "Yeah? And what punishment is that?" He just looked at me with a disturbing grin, the zebra mare looking a bit worried at his expression. She seemed almost as disturbed about his grin as I was.

Eventually, he answered, "Oh, nothing. Just execution." Well, that wasn't SO ba-... wait, WHAT?!

"What? You're going to execute me? But... but I didn't do anything! I'm serious! I don't know how they changed the footage, but it wasn't me!" I protested, only to get an even more disturbing grin from him. The zebra, on the other hoof, was just staring at me. She was looking right into my eyes... almost as if she were trying to mind control me or something. After a while, he just snorted and faced the zebra.

"Come on, Zeina. Let's leave this guy to take in the fact that he's going to die." He looked at me with that grin again. The zebra stared at me for one more moment before turning back to him.

"Very well," Was all she responded, and they turned and started trotting out, leaving me with a great many protests still un-said. As they were trotting out the door, she looked at me one more time before shutting it closed.

Now that they were gone, I did my best to try and break free of my bonds, to no avail. I tried to free my wings from the cloth, but they were tied. "YOU IDIOTS!" I screamed, "I'm fucking innocent! This is madness, injustice! You CAN'T DO THIS!"

Was I really going to die? It certainly felt that way at the time, even if I knew that the Stable hadn't EVER executed anyone. And I didn't do anything! I prayed to Celestia and Luna with whatever piety I had to not let this mistake happen, yet I didn't feel in the least bit better. They were just wasting time while the real murderer was out there, trotting around like an innocent! I had done nothing!

'Or did you?' Asked a voice in my head, impish in voice and sarcastic in tone. I had assumed it was just a part of my head questioning me after what I had been shown, and I have to admit that question really got to me. Did I really kill those people? Of course not, that was ridiculous. But... what else could explain it? No disguise could be so good as to trick magical analysis; no disguise could be so well-crafted as to elude my Stable's security measures. Sleep-walking was out of the question, I had locked my door. And surely SOMEONE would have noticed if I had left, right? There had to be someone at the Security station, there just had to be!

But what if it was me? What if I had indeed somehow broke through my Stable to kill my mentor? My stomach lurched at the malicious and unlikely thought, but I couldn't help but dwell on it. How else could it have happened? No matter what I told myself, the thought didn't leave. It just stayed in my head, tormenting me... and despite all my assurances, the thought just grew and grew, until I nearly choked from the speed it was making my heart beat and how dry it was making my mouth.

At last my thoughts moved elsewhere, and I glanced up at my bindings with desperation. I jerked and spasmed and yanked, but for all my training I could not in even the slightest loosen the knots at all. My heart broke and fell to the ground like shards of glass, and in one final demanding cry, shouted at the ceiling until my lungs gave out. Then I relaxed and gave in. In my mind, I was thinking of an apology to Lighthouse. An apology saying sorry for how I couldn't exact justice, as I had promised him. How I had failed to live up to what he and I had both expected from me: a stallion who could hold his own, and not take bullshit from anyone. The ultimate slap to my face was that not only was I now in captivity because of what someone else had done, but also because my dignity, my image as a person, was now in ruins in the eyes of the people. For that... their was no atonement for the monster who had done this.

Then I saw that my gladius was on the security table, just a few feet away from me. A small spark of hope lit up in my heart. I tried to reach for it, but my jaw couldn't even touch the table, no matter how much I strained my neck. Finally, I just hung my head and surrendered.

'I'm doomed,' Was the last thought that crept into my mind before I hung my head from exhaustion and depression.

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

I woke up to the sound of metal being placed on the table. My eyes were still having trouble opening, but when they did, I saw that the zebra mare I saw earlier was placing a cloth sack filled with metal on the table. When she noticed me, she trotted over. Literally just inches from my face, she stared at me again.

'Ok... this is getting kind of creepy,' I thought as I tried to do all sorts of things to stop her staring. I moved my head, blew at her eyes, even yelling. Hell, I even tried to stare back at her! That just ended up with sore eyes for me. So, for another minute after my failed attempts, she just stared at me. She didn't blink, didn't move. She just stared.

Finally, she spoke up in that strange, exotic accent that zebras have. "Did you kill them?" She asked. There was no accusation in her voice, no scorn. Just an honest question.

This was a question I expected people to ask right now, so my answer didn't take too long to come out.

"No, I didn't. But while you people are wasting time on me, the real killer is out there." I sighed deeply, then asked her, "What do you think? Do you think I'm guilty?" She just stared at me again. Great, the last thing I needed was to waste my last hours talking to this mare. Couldn't I at least get a few hours to myself?

Finally, though, she responded. "You promised him you would find the killer, didn't you? You promised him you would seek out justice? That whoever did this would pay for what they did?" She asked. It caught me off guard.

"Well, yeah... but how did you know?" She considered me for a moment, looking me over.

Finally, she said, "It shows. You just aren't the type that does things like this. You seem honorable, honest, self-sacrificing even. Those are what I see in you, not a murderer." She breathed in deep through her nostrils without closing her eyes and said, "And, for what it's worth, I believe you are innocent." Well, that was comforting, but I was still going to die. I needed to NOT die.

"Well, thanks, I guess. But you're probably the only one here who thinks that. Hell, even my friends think I'm guilty." At that she gave a soft chuckle, and stepped aside. There was a mare standing in the doorway.

"Wonderglue?" I asked, pleasantly surprised despite my situation. But what could she possibly be doing here? "What are you doing here?"

She looked at me for a short moment, before smiling at me softly. "Helping you escape," Was her response.

"Oh, okay... wait, what? How? It's not like the Stable door can be opened. Even if it could, how? Doesn't it need a code or something?" I asked, but she just smiled as Zeina picked up the gladius on the table and started cutting my bonds. She didn't cut it cleanly, making it look rough and forced. When I was free, I was shocked as she proceeded to cut herself in the cheek, arms, and even took off her barding, stabbed into it, stabbed herself in the stomach (though, not deep enough to reach the organs), and put it back on.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked in pure disbelief. Her response was level and calm, and showed no pain from her wounds.

"Making your escape look forced," Was all she said. Oh, right. That made sense. They didn't want the others to think that they helped me. Smart.

"Goldwreath, put this on," Wonderglue said from behind me. I turned around to face her, and my jaw dropped.

What stood before me was a glimmering suit of steel, segmented, metal armor plates modified with a kevlar vest on the outside. The helmet had straps, and a bright red plume arched from the front to the back. The armor stopped at the flanks, but the flanks themselves were protected by chainmail with leather strips hanging down. The kevlar itself was reinforced with a steel plate inserted into the fabric. There were also some healing potions and a few apples on the table.

And most of all, it was the praetorian armor I had always admired and desired to possess.

I just looked at it for a moment, then at her. Zeina was already lying down on the ground, smearing blood around her. She looked up at us one more time, then dropped her head.

I stared at the armor for a moment, until I got a gentle nudge from Wonderglue. She looked between me and the doorway worriedly, and nodded at the suit. I nodded back, and proceeded to put it on.

After I finished putting on the zebra praetorian armor, I turned to face her. "Why are you helping me escape? I... thought you believed I was a murderer," I said sullenly, yet not without a hint of joy at what she was doing.

She looked at me with a soft smile and then said, "You're my friend, Goldwreath. I know you; you're a good pony." Then she snickered, "Not to mention, our rooms are just a few dozen feet away. If you had left, I would have known. You aren't exactly the quietest pony around." Well, that was true. Oh, Godessess, that meant she heard me whenever I... well, it's not really important. I also wondered just how she would have heard me if I left; she would need to be awake, which wasn't likely, given how hard she worked on her job.

"But what about the video? They confirmed it wasn't tampered with." At that, her smile disappeared.

"I don't know. But I do know that you're innocent. I know you. You aren't a killer. And I know you want justice. But if you stay here, you'll die." She looked at Zeina, who was already staying still on the floor, and said, "Alright, here's the plan. Kevlar Vest is currently in possession of the door code. Zeina couldn't get it from him, but you can. Just don't kill him." I nodded and grabbed the gladius, then turned around to face her, and saw that she was just standing there.

"Thanks so much for helping me, Glue. But, uh, aren't you going to get caught if you just stay here?" I asked, to which her eyes widened in sudden revelation.

"Wow. I Actually didn't think of that." She shook her head a bit, then began galloping past me briskly. She turned to face me, and said with finality, "Goodbye, Goldwreath. Stay safe out there." Then she sped up the stairs, and disappeared from sight.

"Goodbye," I found myself murmuring into the air. Well, I was leaving huh? I was going to be leaving all of my friends (or what few I had) and all of my stuff (also what little I had), huh? I was leaving all that behind? Well... better than being dead, I guess.

Still, I couldn't help but fight a choke and some tears as I sped out of the room like a madpony.

Thank goodness everyone seemed to be asleep.

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

Kevlar Vest was just around the corner. He was reading security reports on his desk, his back turned to me. The door code was on a gold card next to him, but I couldn't get close without him seeing me. I thought of my options.

Kill him? No, I wasn't a killer, and I wasn't going to start now -- only if it was necessary. Just run in and take it? No, he would put up a fight, and he had a gun. Distract him? That seemed feasible.

There was only one entrance, though, so I would have to knock him the moment he got out.

'Alright, let's do this,' I thought.

I tapped my steel-coated hoof on the wall, and flew up to the ceiling. I heard him getting up and trotting towards the door. He poked his head out, but he went back in too quick. I tried tapping again, and this time he came out. Immediately, I swooped down at him.

But he was fast. He probably heard the metal sliding against the kevlar, but whatever it was, he immediately went prone, and I slammed against the wall. As I struggled to get up, he turned and tried to connect his hindlegs to my face in what would have been a jaw-breaking buck. I went prone as well, and he hit nothing, sending him off balance. Immediately, I sprung up at his unbalanced body and tackled him, my superior weight pinning him to the ground on his belly.

He glared up at me with disappointment and hate. "Why'd you do this?" He asked in a hiss. "What madness drove you to become a fucking murderer?"

I looked back down at, him just shaking my head. "I didn't do this, Kevlar Vest. And as much as I'd like to not have to do this, I don't want to die. So... I'm sorry," I said, and raised up a hoof to knock him out with.

But he was in Security, and he knew tricks I didn't. He shifted on to his side, then onto his back, pushed me away with strong punches from his hooves, and sent a buck into my side. I wasn't sent flying, but he took the opportunity to try to get his gun and try to reach the intercom. Before he could do either, I got up again and tackled him, slamming his face against the metal floor. As he screamed desperately for help, I brought both my forelimbs down on his head. There was a wet crunch, and he stopped struggling. Well, at least I didn't kill him. I grabbed the golden card and looked at the code.

"CMC3BFF, huh? Well then, I have to go." Sparing Kevlar a glance, I said, "Sorry about that." Leaving him behind, I flew up to the first floor: The Stable door.

* * * Magnus et Potens Roamanus * * *

"It's a good thing it's evening. If not, most of these people would be awake, and I don't know how I would have gotten here," I said as I stood in front of the controls for the door. I was already typing in the code. "I really hope this works. If not, I'm fucked. Alright, let's see. CMC3B..."

Then there was a loud crackle on the intercom. "All Security personnel, Goldwreath has escaped! He's at the Stable door, don't let him get away!" Shit. Damn you, Kevlar. I hurriedly finished typing the code in, and waited for a few moments in terrible anxiety.

Nothing.

'I'm fucked,' I thought. Maybe the code was wrong? Maybe it was a trap? Or... maybe the door was broken? Could that even happen?

Then, suddenly, the door gave a great metallic groan as it started to shift to the side. It was rotating achingly slow. But then a thought hit me: What's the outside like? Is it just some great, dark void, like in my dream? Was it even habitable? What would I do once there?

As these thoughts were occurring to me, a bullet whizzed past my head. I looked behind me: guns. Lots of guns. The door to the rest of the Stable was open, and dozens of guards were flooding into the door chamber, shooting real rounds at me.

"Celestia dammit!" I yelled as I dove for cover. The door was open now. Revealing, to my immense relief, that it was not a great dark void. Rather, the outside was full of rotten wood and cracking walls. There was dust floating around everywhere outside, and the smell of it was this really strange, musty, old stench. It actually wasn't as bad as I thought, though.

Then one bullet struck the floor right in front of me, the bullet breaking and sending a few pieces of shrapnel at my face. No time to care how the outside looked now! I dove out off my cover, and flew out the Stable door. One bullet struck me in the back, but luckily it was stopped by the kevlar. I took cover behind a concrete pillar as the guards continued to fire after me.

"Get that piece of shit! Don't let him get away!" Shouted Muzzleflash. They continued firing down range, seemingly driven by a collective hatred of me.

But finally Kevlar Vest ordered them to stop, "That's enough! Change the code and close the door if you have to. He wants to die outside? Fine. Just close the damned door." At the sound of his voice, all the firing stopped, if seemingly unwillingly. With the sudden silence, I even thought I heard Muzzleflash grinding his teeth in frustration.

As I sat there, listening to the guards retreating back into the Stable, the door gave another metallic groan. Finally, with a hiss of pressurized air and the clang of metal on metal, the door was sealed.

Forever.

Now it was at this point that I just crashed for a moment. My legs became wobbly and my heart beats deepened, pumping the queerest feeling of weakness into my body. I staggered to and slumped against the stable door, so cold and unwelcoming to a pony who'd just lost everything.

'How had it all happened?' I wondered. I mean... I was just a freaking maintenance pony. I didn't have that many friends, that many connections... never made much enemies, too; though that last part may have been caused by the fact that I didn't get much interaction. Who would have framed ME, and why? All kinds of confused and lost feelings warped themselves into a staggering tempest in my head, threatening imminent breakdown into either a pitiful crying session or hours and hours of hyperventilating.

But I was better than that. I had to be. Lighthouse had always trained me to try to receive things with some optimism, I couldn't do this to him... or to myself. But what was the point? Life in there was boring, but it was the only life I had. What was out here for a pony like me? A vast field of radiated soil? A never-ending toxic terrain of black earth? Just... what was the point of it all? Why do anything else aside from curling up and starving?

'The point is that we must keep living until we have fulfilled our obligations,' a voice seemed to say in my head. I didn't recognize it, but it... felt familiar, like it'd always been there, just waiting to say that line.

I spent a moment musing over the thought and sighed. Obligations, huh? Well, there was nothing for it. There was no point in dying, not like that. If I was going to die... I was going to die remembered fondly, not just as a murderer. It was hard, harder than most other things I did in my life, but I managed to tear myself away from the door that sealed my home away and turned around.

"Well... what the heck? No way am I going to kill myself." I saw a ladder in the corner of the chamber. I trotted over to it, crunching wood and pebbles beneath my hooves, and then flew up and opened the door to the outside.





Footnote: Level Up
New perk gained : Combat Mechanic -- Your knowledge of weapons and armor and your experiences as a mechanic have taught you well. You get an additional 5 points to the 'Repair' and 'Small Guns' skills.

Author's Note:

Oh, hey, guys! Just so you know, chapters 4-10 are being edited right now to make them on par with the quality of the later chapters. Nothing major, just more narrative, more descriptions, maybe a little more convo, but it's still the same story. So hopefully the current quality of those chapters -- misspells, errors in general -- won't dissuade you.

You may also notice that chapters 1-5 have a scene seperator of 'Magnus et Potens Roamanus' -- great and powerful Roam -- while some of the later ones still have the dashes. This is part of the editing, along with paragraph indents.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story!