The Student Six learn about the Fallout World thanks to a series of lore videos from The Storyteller
Having been assigned a project about researching lost civilizations, and learning how friendship could have helped them survive, the Student Six try to find something unique. They find in the form of a sphere hologram projection, which tells about a different world that is plagued by ghouls, deathclaws, and super mutants. A world where various factions fight for survival, and to rebuild the human race in their image. A world that is both harsh and dangerous where friendship and decent kindness are a rarity.
The Storyteller series belongs to ShoddyCast who I recommend you follow. I also suggest watching the series of the Storyteller if you are a Fallout Fan or want to get into the Fallout series which belongs to Bethesda.
None of the students at the School of Friendship would deny that their school was a fun place to learn. Sure, it wasn’t the coolest thing at first, but they could forgive the lame tests, boring lectures, and horrible food after the major changes to it. Still, it was a school, and they had the occasional standard homework assignment that any average teenager would find hard to do. While every teacher gave projects, the one Professor Twilight had given Sandbar and his friends was the toughest one yet. They had to find a civilization that no longer existed, research it, and explain how friendship could have either saved or improved the lost kingdom before its demise.
It was a group project, so you could team up with as many students as you want. For Sandbar and his friends, it was no brainer that they wanted to work together so they booked a study room to use for their Friday afternoon after classes ended. Sandbar thought it would be easy at first since all three of the pony races had their own kingdoms before the Great Winter. It would have been easy to just use what every foal knew from Hearth's Warming Eve to pass for an easy A. Of course, all his non-pony friends had their own ideas for what pre-modern civilization they wanted to do.
“Yona wants to do ancient Yak three kingdom era of Yei, Yu, and Y’hu! It most famous and glorious era of Yaks! Besides Yakyakistan of course!”
“Yeah, you’ve told us a hundred times. Seriously, I’m starting to hear Yakyakistan’s greatness in my sleep,” Gallus replied, rolling his eyes as he floated in the air. “I still think we should do Griffinstone after King Grover united us all. Grandpa Gruff can mail us a few books to let us fly by this homework easy.”
“Please, if we’re gonna pass we need to do something new and exciting. Not something everyone already knows about. We dragons once had a great empire that spanned the entire world before your races even started to write,” Smolder proclaimed, crossing her arms with a prideful smirk. “You can see how great we were before the War of the Flames, and learn something new about us dragons.”
“Ooh, that sounds exciting!” Silverstream shouted, shivering with excitement before turning to Gallus and Yona. “Oh, but your ideas sound exciting too!” She then gasped. “But it would be even more exciting if I told you of the time before we went into the sea for a long long long long time until Princess Twilight visited us! What do you think?!”
Sandbar sighed as his friends continue to blather on as he looked at Ocellus who was looking through some history books she borrowed from the library. “You wanna suggest something?”
“Oh, well,” her wings folded in disappointment. “We changelings don’t remember our past very well. Chrysalis burned all our history when she rose into power and killed all who tried to resist. Before King Thorax, everything was about her and her alone. I don’t really wanna focus on that.”
Nodding in understanding, Sandbar walked to the middle of his friends just as Gallus and Yona were about to have an arm wrestling match to decide. “Okay, how about this? Since neither of us can agree on what to do, why don’t we find a civilization outside of our races? That way we can do this without any bias? Sound good?”
“I guess,” Smolder muttered, rolling her eyes. “But what other races are there?”
“Oh, well there are the Diamond Dogs, the Deer, the Minotaurs, the Parrots, the Breezies, the Centaurs-“
“I think we get it Ocellus,” Gallus interrupted, lifting himself back into the air. “So, let’s head to the library and just pick something already. I wanna get this over and done with.”
“Oh, I get to learn about a new civilization! Amazing! Let’s go!” Silverstream shouted as she flew on ahead with her usual vigor. The others just smirked at their friend’s excitement before following out of their study room.
***
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Smolder yelled. “All the history and civilization books have been checked out?!”
“W-w-w-well, the students just came out of nowhere and got them all. Something about a big project that Twilight gave them?” Spike replied, nervously staring up at the glaring dragon. Sure, she wasn’t as big as Ember, but she still had the same fire in her eyes. “Uh, I can put you on the waitlist? How does next weekend sound?”
“The assignment is due before then! We’ll never get them in time!” Gallus shouted, growling in frustration.
“Chill, guys,” Sandbar said, putting his hooves on both his pissed off friends. “I’m sure there are a few books they missed. Let’s look around and see what we find?”
They all nodded as Spike sighed in relief. Splitting up, the six of them spent the next hour looking through every corner of the library for what they were looking for, but reunited with empty hooves, claws, and talons.
“Yona not find books on other races. Can we agree to do Yona’s suggestion now?” Yona asked with excitement.
“I guess we’ll have to choose one of ours,” Gallus replied.
“Guys! Guys! I found it! I found it!” Silverstream shouted, flying towards them with glee on her face.
“You found a history book?” Ocellus asked with excitement.
“No! I found a copy of the next book in the Prancy Jackson series! I’ve been waiting weeks for this to return!” Silverstream answered, showing them a cover of what looked to be a teenage pony holding a sword and shield while thunder was crashing around him. The glares she received made her giggle nervously as she hid the book behind her back. “Um, right. No luck on the history book. Sorry.”
“Great, so back to square one, huh?” Smolder asked.
“Guess so. Come on, let’s get out of here,” Sandbar replied as he led the others towards the exit.
Spike noticed them leaving and, upon seeing the upset looks on their faces, walked over to check on them. “Didn’t find what you were looking for?”
“No, all the other students took the books. So, we’re going to have to figure something else out,” Sandbar answered.
“Hmm,” Spike rubbed his chin before snapping his claw, “Well, I don’t know about books, but I know something else that can help you.”
The six of them raised an eyebrow.
***
“Woah! This is amazing!” Silversteam shouted, and for once the others agreed with her.
Spike led them to a special room in the library that contained hundreds of glowing spheres in various colors, swirling with magic inside of them. Smiling, Spike led them inside as he began to explain what the room was. “This is the Sphere Watcher Room. Before his imprisonment, Starswirl the Bearded traveled all over the world learning magic and history. He used a special spell to record his findings with these spheres that created life-sized hologram views of what it was recording. When he learned Twilight was opening her own school, he gave her a few of these for the students. It’s not open yet, but I’m sure Twilight won’t mind you taking one... if you return it before she notices.”
“This amazing! Any glowing orbs of Yakyakistan in here?” Yona asked as she rushed forward before tripping on her braids. “Woah!”
The others gasped as she bumped into one of the sphere shelves, knocking them over. With quick reflexes, the others rushed or flew forward and caught as many as they could before they could shatter. Spike even catching one in his mouth before spitting them out. They all glared at Yona who nervously apologized before putting them back one by one.
Before Gallus could put in the last one, they heard somepony coming and paused in his efforts as he heard voices. Spike panicked and said, “It’s Twilight and Starlight! Quick, through the other door!”
The seven of them rushed out just in time as Twilight and Starlight entered the room. “So, you sure it’s around here?”
“Positive? I made sure to keep all the spheres in proper order. Although I don’t know why you and Sunburst want a sphere version of the... Ponysutra is what you called it?” Twilight asked, raising her eyebrow in curiosity. “I never heard of such a thing. What’s it for?”
Blushing, Starlight muttered, “Oh, you know. Research.”
“What kind of research?”
“The private kind?”
Twilight stopped in front of a shelf before her eyes widened. “Hey! These spheres are out of order! I thought I gave Spike the list on what goes where. Ugh, now I’ll have to spend the rest of the evening making sure nothing else is out of order.”
“Well, my sphere is here, so do you mind if I take it and go?” Starlight asked, taking a glowing pink and blue sphere and putting it in her saddlebags.
“Hmm? Oh sure, go ahead. Let me know how your research goes. If it's interesting I might want to try it myself,” Twilight replied, using her magic to rearrange the orbs.
Looking at her mentor with a deadpan expression, Starlight asked, “You lead a sheltered life, didn’t you?”
***
With Twilight now in the control of the room for the next few hours, the group of six retreated to Sandbar and Gallus’s dorm room while Spike went back to help Twilight. Lying around, the group sighed in defeat except for a smirking Gallus who lay on his bed. “Well, that was close. Guess we’ll have to decide one of our race’s civilizations after all,” Ocellus said.
“Or we could check out this one?” Gallus lifted a swirling sphere with one claw. “I didn’t let go of it when we fled.”
“Wait, you stole it?” Silverstream asked, frowning at the sphere.
“I didn’t steal it… just… forgot to give it back,” Gallus answered with a shrug as he jumped off his bed and tossed the sphere in the air before catching it. “Besides, we needed a civilization. This one sounded cool.”
“Which is it?” Sandbar questioned.
“From what I read on where it was supposed to go, it’s called The World of The WastelandBy The Storyteller,” Gallus read.“Whoever that is.”
“I never heard of any wasteland in Equestria,” Smolder said, confused.
“Or on Equus for that matter,” replied Sandbar.
“Maybe... it’s another world?” Ocellus said. The others looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Professor Sparkle gave a lesson on how Starswirl the Bearded did create a mirror that could travel between worlds. She used it herself to visit an alternate world where she found alternate versions of her friends and saved them from danger. Maybe this world is from one of the worlds in the mirror?”
“Oh, yeah! Yona remember that lesson. It fun hearing evil demon singing fish being defeated by friendship!” Yuna commented with a smile.
“Okay, I don’t remember that lesson. So how did Yona?” Smolder asked.
“I think it was the day after you all tried Yona’s cooking,” Ocellus replied. “You were all physically ill for a week. I only managed to avoid getting sick cause Changelings are immune to all poisons.”
Everyone, besides Yona, slowly turned green upon remembering their friends’ home style cooking. It had been for another project where they had to taste something from home and Yona… went overboard.
Yona huffed. “Yona’s friends not know good cooking.”
“No, just know the difference between food and death,” Gallus muttered, shivering. “Well, if Ocellus said it’s true then I’m willing to believe it. What about you guys?”
They all nodded in agreement as they sat down with the sphere in the middle, waiting for it to activate. When nothing happened, Sandbar asked, “Wait, how does this thing work?”
“Maybe it needs a phrase word?” Ocellus suggested, looking at it carefully. “Something like… play? Hmm, on? Uh, activate?”
The sphere seemed to respond by glowing a bright white glow as the group covered their eyes for a moment before the light concentrated into a large holographic viewing screen sort of like what they would see in the movie theaters. The group rearranged themselves to get a better view of the screen as they saw what seemed to be a normal town. There were trees, houses, green grass, and a street. There were some things they didn’t recognize like strange metal carriages with black wheels in fancy colors. Long wooden poles with black wires connecting to one another. Street signs in a language they never saw before, but the numbers they recognized.
“Woah, what is this place. Looks kinda like Ponyville,” Sandbar noted, eyes widen.
“What is that thing?! And that thing?! Oh, and that thing?!” Silverstream squealed, pointing at the various objects on the screen.
“Their lettering is so different, but they have the same numbers as we do. Fascinating,” Ocellus reasoned as she quickly grabbed some pen and paper to write things down.
Smolder snorted. “Looks boring. Wish something would happen already.”
Her wish was soon granted as a large explosion, bigger than anything either of them had ever seen, erupted over the distance towering over the location in a mushroom cloud. Thick black clouds of ash and fire began to sweep away the area and soon that perfect setting was nothing more then rubble in its wake. The six watched in stunned silence as the destruction raged on before them.
“Way to open your mouth, Smolder,” Gallus whispered, but she didn’t respond as a voice soon took over.
It talked about the discovery of something called an ‘atomic bomb’ which gave a race called humanity a question. That question was what would happen if they destroyed themselves with this said bomb, and what would come after?
“I know what a bomb is, but what is an Atomic Bomb? Is that what gave off that explosion?” Sandbar asked.
“Looks bigger then that dive bomb that Professor Rainbow Dash did with the Sonic Rainboom one time!” Gallus proclaimed.
“Humanity, huh?” Ocellus rolled the word around her mind a bit. “Is that the name of the species we’re learning about?”
The image soon changed to that of a skeleton which made the six gulped. It was a skeleton they hadn’t seen before, lying in a ditch of sand and dirt. The narrator continued, bysaying how it wasn’t the end, but another chapter in an otherwise bloody history of mankind.
“I’m guessing that is a human? Or at least what remains of one,” Gallus noted.
“Bloody chapter, huh? I guess they’re a warlike species,” Smolder said, holding some respect. At least they weren’t learning about a race of wussies.
Her guess proved true when the next image showed a burning town with rubble scattered around and smoke clouds filling the air. A lone red flag with what looked to be a golden four legged minotaur in the center stood tall amidst the ruins.
“Hey, flag look like it have yak on it!” Yona pointed out. “Did Yaks do this?”
“I think that head looks more like a minotaur’s,” Ocellus observed, writing down notes. Did this mean they had minotaur’s in this world as well? Or other races of their world living here too?
The images then showed rockets, as big as buildings, firing into the sky faster then any pegasi they had ever seen. Fires like the flames of dragons spewed from beneath them as they saw a title come out and knew they were in for something they had never experienced before:
The group of six saw the words on the screen, waiting in anticipation. While there had been many wars in the past, only one such event had been given the title of “Great War”. It was a war where all the species of the world fought one another thousands of years ago during the Ancient Golden Era. Records, books, and tales told of the massive battles, destructive changes to the environment, and the heroes forged in those lands. Back then, different nations ruled, some completely wiped out and never seen again. It was a time before there was even an Equestria, and a time when the sun and moon moved on their own. That same great war was said to be the reason why they couldn’t move on their own today, requiring magic to ensure life could go on. What caused the war was lost to time as well as many other details.
If this “Great War” was as earth shattering as the one in their world, it was clear that the things they were going to learn were going to be a bit more serious than expected.
The screen began to show what looked to be an army of hairless minotaur like creatures in uniform, marching with strange sticks and flags. They stood on two legs, had two arms, and didn’t seem to have much hair except on their faces or heads. Gallus, Yona, and Smolder were a bit disappointed. Sure, they were taller than the average pony from their judgement, but they didn’t seem to strong or scary. Nothing about them really screamed “warriors” in their appearance. The others saw them as unique, a creature they had never seen before as they scaled what looked to be a building of some kind with a red flag in one of the creature’s upper limbs that looked like claws, but not as sharp. Ocellus was writing down as many notes as possible as she tried to keep her eyes on the screen and her paper at the same time.
The narrator talked about the aspect of change and how it came easily to the nations on this world. It talked about a place called Russia, ruled by Czars who met their downfall at the hands of revolutions. Another place was called Western Europe who fought against a group of “fascists” named “Reich” who tried to make an empire that would last for a thousand years, but it fell in less than ten.
Gallus snorted. “Ten years? And they aimed for a thousand? Losers.”
“Yakyakistan around far longer than loser reich fascists!” Yona proclaimed with pride.
“What is a fascist?” Sandbar asked, rubbing his head.
“And what’s a Czar of Russia?” Silverstream asked.
“Well, fascist or fascism is negative term applied to someone who holds absolute power in their kingdom,” Ocellus replied.
“What’s wrong with that?” Everyone asked. After all, they all came from lands that were ruled, or once ruled, by a single authority with absolute power.
“It’s kind of meant as an insult for bad rulers. Like King Sombra or Queen Crystals,” Ocellus replied, shrugging her shoulders. “As for Czar of Russia? I guess it’s another word for king or something with Russia being the kingdom. Of course maybe-”
“What the hay?!” Sandbar shouted as he stared at the screen. The others turned to face it and were just as surprised as they were.
“Is that… a pony?” Silverstream asked in disbelief. “And is that… creature riding him?”
The others stood in shock as they did indeed see what looked to be a pony, only around the princesses’ height, being ridden by a soldier. This one was in a different uniform and had a different facial structure compared to the Western Europeans. It reminded them of a student, named Tenzo, who had come from the nation of Neighpony.
“He’s got a saddle and spurs on him as well,” Gallus laughed as he punched Sandbar in the shoulder. “Guess you ponies really are submissive to these guys, huh? Where’s yours, Sandbar?”
“Shut up, Gallus,” replied Sandbar, rolling his eyes. “Still, I have to admit I didn’t imagine there would be ponies in this world.”
“Maybe we’ll see hippogriffs here as well!” Silverstream gasped. “That would be awesome.”
“Yaks! Yaks would be better!” replied Yona.
Smolder interrupted them by pointing to the strange machines behind the horse riding creature. “Are those tanks? Didn’t Professor Pinkie Pie ride a ‘party tank’ with her friend Cheese Sandwich one time?”
“Yeah, but those look cooler. Definitely made for battle,” Gallus pointed out with a nod of approval.
It turned out they were called “Japanese” who lived under what seemed to be eternal imperial rule, but their pride had been shattered by atomic fire. The word atomic entered everyone’s ears again as they listened in, wondering what atomic fire was. That’swhen they saw the ruins of a devastated city. “Woah, looks like a hurricane went through there,” Gallus replied.
“Or this atomic fire he mentioned,” Smolder suggested, rubbing her chin. There had been various types of fire created by dragons before but never an atomic one. If it could do something like this to a city, it would be a very powerful tool for her kind. She thought of the shocked faces of her fellow dragons with a smile if she could learn this and impress them.
Smolder ended her thoughts when a new army appeared, this time showing off what looked to be a parade with more soldiers wielding those strange sticks with pointy spears on top. What really shocked them was the moving box like carriages with black wheels and even bigger sticks on them. It was made of metal, and looked to move on its own without anyone or anything pushing or pulling it.
“H-how are they doing that? Magic?” Sandbar asked.
“Maybe… or they could be machines?” Ocellus theorized, rubbing her chin. “In fact, can these creatures do magic?”
“If not, how can they move those metal carriages?” Sandbar asked, but he was interrupted when another of those mushroom explosions happened. Thankfully, there was no large kaboom, but there was the narrator.
He went on to explain about the world’s greatest superpower nation, The United States of America. A name that Yona said was quite a handful to say. It turned out that what made them such a superpower was the fact that they had nuclear arsenals which apparently ended open warfare. A “cold war” was made between America and her enemies, allowing a status quo to go on for a hundred years of peace.
“Yeah, being frozen with fear from war on all sides sounds like great peace,” Gallus snorted.
“Actually, it kinda makes sense,” Ocellus replied as the others stared at her. “Well, let’s say Equestria and the Dragon Lands had powerful weapons that would have made war a stalemate each time? Wouldn’t it be pointless to go to war with each other?” The others nodded in understanding.
Horror soon struck them as they saw what looked to be… well, ruins was an understatement. The screen showed a city that one could imagine must have looked amazing before whatever catastrophe happened. It looked nearly obliterated, barley standing from whatever attack it suffered from. There didn’t seem to be any life around, and it wouldn’t be impossible to think there wasn’t any anymore.
“What did that?” Silverstream asked without her usual zeal of excitement. No, this was a question asked in terror and the others couldn’t help but feel the same.
It turned out that this was the Wasteland they had heard so much about. It looked even worse than the Dragon Lands worst areas, almost as if nothing lived, or could live, anymore. Apparently, this all happened two hundred years ago, according to the narrator, and what was once a rich nation of wealth and power was nothing but a crumbling version of itself now filled with deathclaws, super mutants, and ghouls.
“What’s a deathclaw?” Sandbar asked, feeling a shiver down his spine upon speaking the name.
“What’s a super mutant?” Gallus asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Ghouls as in zombies?!” Ocellus shouted, grabbing a nearby pillow and hiding underneath it. “I… I don’t like undead things…”
Silverstream patted her friend’s back and helped ease her out of her hiding place. “Hey, come on. I’m sure whatever these things are they don’t exist in our world, so we don’t have to worry about it.”
Ocellus nodded but kept shivering as she nervously wrote down what the screen was telling her. Unsurprisingly, people before the Wasteland didn’t have to fight for survival or scavenge supplies. The Pre-Wasteland era had factories that produced everything needed for them with currency to purchase them. Food. medicine, weapons, ammo, clothing and more. All for them to buy and use, with only one major problem of where to put it all.
They saw what looked to be a smaller version of the creatures they had seen, but younger looking. They quickly guessed it as a child version of the world’s inhabitants and watched as he held in his strange claws something big, long, and metal. The words “The Fat Man” appearing on the screen.
“Weird name,” Sandbar replied. “Although, the whole factories thing sounds like they made a lot of stuff.”
“Yeah, sounds like this race was always making things before this war ruined it all,” Silverstream said, frowning. “Imagine having to live for survival by salvaging just for a meal?”
“Eh, dragons do it all the time,” Smolder replied, liking this race more and more.
“And that’s worked out so well for you these past hundreds of years, right?” Gallus commented with a smirk.
The screen changed again, showing what looked to be a local hangout. More of those strange metal carriages were there as well although they were each in different designs. The creatures who owned them were busy hanging out, drinking something, or putting some cylinder like object connected to a tube into the carriage. Then it showed a grill, but what was on the grill made some of them either puke or lick their chops. It was meat, but what kind of meat they didn’t know. It had taken the non-meat eaters to get used to some of the dietary needs that Smolder and Gallus had for meals, but it still made them queasy each time.
“I guess we can rule these creatures as meat eaters,” Ocellus replied, writing it down with some hesitation.
“Hmm, I’m getting hungry. Anybody mind being a snack?” Gallus joked, earning him some glares. “Relax, I’m kidding.”
Of course, he wasn’t laughing when it was revealed what mankind ate. When it was revealed, all six of them were ready to puke.
“A COW?!” Sandbar shouted in disbelief. “Those are sentient beings! Why on earth would they eat them?! What kind of monsters are they?!”
“Yeah, I like meat and all too, but I wouldn’t eat anything sentient,” Gallus gagged. “That’s just barbaric.”
“Yona starting to not like strange creatures,” Yona frowned, crossing her hooves.
Their attention shifted to seeing another of the creatures, this time leaning against a red metal carriage that was called a car. It then shifted to what looked to be a fridge filled with the teens easily could easily recognize as soda bottles. It stopped on a large lounge area with a coffee machine, cups, and donuts as the narrator explained how much the Americans enjoyed their way of life. They were so secure that it would never change, or be challenged. Their minds turned back to the vision of the Wasteland, and couldn’t help but find irony in that statement.
“Cars…” Ocellus rolled the name on the tip of her tongue. “Sounds like the name of those metal carriages.”
“Are we still going to ignore the fact that these Americans are eating sentient beings?” Sandbar asked, huffing.
“Hey, come on. A thousand years ago we dragons and griffins were eating you guys for food. Maybe they’re the superior species on this world and they eat the lesser ones,” Smolder suggested. “It’s just survival of the fittest. I’m not agreeing with it, but things are different in this world. Maybe we can write that in our project about how friendship could get these Americans to be friends with other races like cows and ponies?”
The others nodded about the idea and filed that away in their minds.
The screen continued as it showed two sinks in a bathroom which didn’t seem too interesting, but that was soon replaced with something that did look completely out of this world. An invention that the narrator explained was something beyond normal. It was metal, had three eyes attached to its head, and multiple limbs with different tools on the end such as claws or saw blades. The most amazing thing was these things were levitating in the air not from wings or magic, but a fire coming out of a big tube underneath them. Yona yelled and was about to charge forth but Gallus and Sandbar held her back. Thankfully, she backed down when the strange things disappeared and instead there were large square like objects with blinking lights. What she saw, according to the narrator, was a robot.
“Woah, woah! Stop right there!” Gallus yelled with stars in his eyes. “Robots?! As in metal robots?! Those cool awesome machines from those comic books and sci-fi movies?! They made them?!”
“Sounds like it,” Smolder shrugging as Gallus zoomed in for a closer look with awe. She couldn’t help but chuckle as he attempted to hide his fanboy behavior by coughing into his claw and retreating into his previous spot. “Careful, Gallus. Your geek side is showing.”
Gallus growled, crossing his arms as his cheeks turned red. “I like cool things. Robots are cool.”
“Whatever nerd,” Smolder teased.
“I guess that seals what I was thinking all along,” Ocellus replied as she wrote down her theory. “These creatures invent stuff. I’m guessing they have no magic, so they invent things with science and reason to survive in this world, like the minotaurs. They must be highly advanced than us on a technological level. I mean, this computer thing sounds like an oracle! Can you imagine having something like that in our world?”
“Can it do Yona’s homework?” Yona asked.
They soon saw more of the robots features as another one came up, helping what looked to be a cheerful and happy American family as they sat down for a morning breakfast. It then showed them watching a strange box with a screen on it, not to different from what they were doing now. It was called a Mister Handy robot, created by the company known as RobCo.
“Wow, I wonder what they make with a name like that?” Smolder asked, snorting.
Apparently, for such a weird looking machine, it could do a number of things according to the narrator. It could walk your dog, do the laundry, watch over your kids and more. All while leaving you to do whatever such as go out for a date with your spouse or watch shows on some metal box with a screen called a “TV set”. It looked very similar to what the six of them were doing right now.
“Dude, if I had a robot? I would so have it do all those chores I have at home,” Gallus replied with a smirk.
“I would have it dig for gems to eat.”
“Ohh! I would have it make me breakfast like this one. It would be amazing!”
“I guess I could always use a robot to help study.”
“Yona want it to do homework!”
Sandbar just shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, I wouldn’t want one.” The others looked at him with disbelief. “Don’t get me wrong, it sounds kinda cool, but it also sounds so… lazy. Like did these creatures really invent stuff to do everything for them?”
“Eh, I say it’s worth it,” Gallus replied. “But how do they work exactly?”
Gallus’ answer came via the narrator who explained they were made by something called gasoline. The narrator explained, while showing a giant tank with two strange letters on it, that it had once been everywhere around this world for hundreds of years. However, around the twenty-first century, they began to run out of it on their planet. Another machine was shown with rods attached to it glowing with power and giving of sparks of lightning. A new energy source had been found to replace it, called atomic energy, which made everyone wonder if this was the energy that created the atomic bomb.
“Wow, how much energy do you have to use to dry up such a resource?” Smolder asked.
“Well, there were times when the hive would run out of love, so we would always have to get more from other races,” Ocellus replied, thinking about those terrible days. “It was why we tried to take over Equestria twice. We were starving from low love storage, but we couldn’t change our energy like these creatures did. At least not until we were reformed.”
Back on the screen, they saw what looked to be a bright lit city in the middle of a desert, mostly likely fueled by atomic energy. The narrator explained how it would light cities, keep robots and computers running, and even fueled up their cars. Though he did warn that the cars still had fuel cells which shouldn’t be used for target practice. His warning was proven correct when they saw one of the creatures near a burning car. He held what looked to be a crossbow holder, but it was short, metal, and had a hole at the end of the barrel. It was firing something, but it wasn’t arrows. It was too fast to see. Whatever it was it seemed to do its damage as the weapon caused the car to explode and blow the creature sky high.
Everyone, but Ocellus, couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, though she did giggle a bit at the mistake of the creature. Apparently, for such a technological advance society, they were a stupid species.
The narrator then began to explain how everything was soon made with atomic energy, including toys, bikes, and comic books. Ocellus and Silverstream “d’awwed” upon seeing the teddy bears while Sandbar and Gallus’s eyes perked upon noticing the costume super heroes styled in action poses.
“I wonder what superheroes they have in this world?” Sandbar wondered, hoping they were as awesome as the Power Ponies.
More objects of such desire were shown to them such as a man drinking a mix of rum and soda. A lady enjoying her new clothes for the spring. Shelves of food and goodies in a store that made the six lick their lips, wondering if Professor Pinkie Pie could recreate some of these. Best of all, according to the narrator, they could stay preserved for years. The narrator said it best: when it came to consumerism, America was the best.
“Wow, really? I never would have guessed,” Smolder commented, rolling her eyes.
“Good thing, this narrator is telling you then,” Silverstream said with a smile.
“Sarcasm, Silverstream. We talked about this…”
Yet the narrator mentioned something that made the six of their jaws drop. Apparently, there wasn’t enough atomic energy to go around, which wasn’t a surprised when your planet had a population of billions.
“Did… did he say… billions?” Sandbar whispered, eyes widened.
“Uh, Ocellus? What’s the total population of our world?” Gallus asked.
“Over twenty-five million,” Ocellus answered, writing it down. “Ponies make the highest population with eight million in Equestria and around the world. These beings must breed like crazy to have such a high number. No wonder they were losing resources.”
“How much is billions?” Yona asked, tilting her head. “Numbers not Yona’s strong thing.”
“Let’s just say that if you were to make a hundred Yakyakistans, you still wouldn’t be as big as these guys,” Sandbar answered, making Yona stare at the screen in awe as it showed the large cities and its people going about their day.
The narrator went on to explain how resources, such as oil and petroleum, were becoming more expensive and precious as years went on. Oil had been around in their world for awhile, powering up machines and stuff, but they didn’t know it was this precious for humanity.
“Makes you wonder what they would do if they discovered our fields?” Sandbar asked, unsure of the answer.
A place called the “Middle-East” was in charge of the wells, but even they were wiped out of their supplies. Uranium mines had been stripped clean, and there was soon little means to power up their shiny technology.
“I bet I know what happens next,” Ocellus replied, grimly.
The change the narrator had spoke of earlier had come. And with it came war.
“I was right.”
Instead of using their limited stock of power to keep going for a few decades, the Middle East turned to using them as weapons to settle old scores. The group watched in horror as bombs fell from the sky, cannons were fired, and buildings were lit aflame as the narrator continued through the destruction. The European Commonwealth, which once prided itself of becoming a glorious united state of nations, betrayed each other and scrambled for the last drops of oil in their lands. “Figures,” Gallus scoffed, “as soon as it gets tough they just backstab each other for their own selfish needs. Maybe they should be invited to the academy to learn friendship?”
“It does almost sound like what Princess Twilight hopes to do,” Ocellus replied, as her friends looked to her. “I overheard her talking about a dream of hers of uniting the nations as one set of government. One culture. One curracy. To promote unity and friendship. What if what happened to this Commonwealth happened to such a thing here?”
“No way! We’re better than that... right?” Silverstream asked, nervously.
They then saw a map appear before them, filed with contents and oceans that were alien to them. One area in the west that was colored blue was called Alaska, the last place of resources held by the Americans. Another area in the east, colored red, was called China and they desired the land for their own use.
“Couldn’t these two countries just come to some agreement to share?” Sandbar asked, shaking his head in disappointment.
“If what we heard was right, it didn’t sound like there was much to even share,” Smolder answered.
“Yona would share with friends if friends need something!” Yona declared, but then sadly looked down. “Not all Yaks might agree to share with others if Yaks needed it too.” She then smiled at her friends and looked determined. “But Yona find someway to make it work!”
The narrator explained that between the two superpowers was a place called Canada, which soon became covered by the same blue color as America and Alaska. According to him, the Americans annexed their northern neighbors to be united in the war against the Chinese invaders. Yet, Canadians, and the six students, saw it as a ruthless conquest to control power. The Resources Wars had come, and Canada was a part of it whether they liked it or not.
“These Americans sound like jerks,” Silverstream huffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t just waltz over and take someone’s home like that.”
“When war comes you do what you gotta do,” Smolder replied.
The map disappeared on the screen and soon showed what they soon learned was a Chinese in a lab coat. He was beside a computer and other gear while staring at them with determination. On the desk in front of him was a very thin black glove that looked like a cross between armor and a t-shirt. The group then watched as they saw a single soldier go completely invisible, lost to their eyes, before reappearing and aiming one of those strange rod weapons. His armor was unlike anything they had ever seen before. Pure black as night and yet an orange face screen for his head. The narrator said it was stealth technology, allowing those who wield it to go completely invisible and assassinate key targets with easy shots.
“Sounds a lot like the changelings, only turning invisible instead of a different shape,” replied Ocellus, writing it down. “Imagine having an assassin that can turn invisible? You could kill any target and get away with it without anyone seeing you.”
The others shivered at the thought of their leaders being taken down mysteriously with no witness. Sandbar visioned all four princesses brought down with holes in their head. If such a thing happened it would be chaos all over Equestria.
The Americans weren’t ones to be outshined either as the narrated explained they had their own answers to war. Such marvels included robots that could fire laser beams. A giant robot the size of a building that was being worked on by engineers. More of the unique shooting weapons only these were firing rays of light, similar to magic beams, that was making cars explode with each shot. The companies of RobCo and Poseidon Energy began using their skills and factories to make war on America's enemies with tools such as combat robots, energy weapons, and cybernetics. According to the narrator, everything was being used to fight against the Chinese.
Smolder whistled with a nod. “Okay, these Americans might not look tough, but they can make some seriously deadly stuff.”
“You see those robots? Including, the big one? Wow, imagine if that thing was set loose on Tirek when he invaded Equestria,” Sandbar said in awe.
More of the American arsenal of war was shown on screen from a man holding and firing that “Fat Man” object they saw earlier which caused a mini explosion. Their awe soon turned to disgust when they saw a dog, its brain, and robotic limbs attached to it body. Apparently, even animals were used to fight wars, something Professor Fluttershy would give a stern disapproval of it, if she had her way. Of course, they all laughed when they saw one of the robot butlers fighting off scared Chinese with a flamethrower. The idea just seemed so ludicrous.
“Actually, the butlers in my Auntie Novo’s castle are all trained to defend themselves, and my family if need be. So, it’s not that weird,”Silverstream said.
The narrator continued to explain that there was even plans to engineer a new super soldier, but they didn’t have the time so they went with power armor instead. The screen showed a female scientist looking over a hovering creature that made the six turn green in disgust. It looked like one of the other creatures, but its skin was green, rotting, and so skinny you could see its bones.
“I think the power armor was the better choice,” Gallus reasoned.
Seconds later, they saw this power armor and gazed with impressed eyes. It looked tougher than any amour they had ever seen, and it was wielding a large blasting gun that was rotating very fast. It shot magic like blasts faster then even Twilight Sparkle could do and was taking down the Chinese soldiers by the number. All done by one single soldier. Although they were put off by the sight of the killing, they couldn’t help but be in awe of the power behind the suit of armor. With pride behind his voice, the narrator explained that power armor especially made a single soldier a living tank with the power of a fire squad behind him. That state was proven true as they watched the scene of slaughter after slaughter of Chinese soldiers. All powerless against the might of a single soldier in power armor who posed in front of them, holding his unique green glowing weapon in his hand. A blueprint of the armor, labeled “T-51b” appeared before them as Ocellus cursed for not writing fast enough.The narrator explained how it was this armor that helped liberate Alaska from the Chinese and that it was once the last great invention of America before The Great War. Today, or at least in the modern time of the recording, it was the symbol of a group called The Brotherhood of Steel.
“Who is Brotherhood of Steel?” Yona asked, scratching her head. “Are they brothers made out of steel?”
“More to the point, how do I join?” Gallus eyes were lid up just gazing at the armor. “I want me one of those suits, but griffin shaped.”
The others nodded in agreement. Even some of the less violent ones couldn’t help but admit it would be cool to have a suit of armor like that. Even if it was designed for war.
The excited mood was quickly squandered upon seeing a battlefield full of dead soldiers. Ocellus and Silverstream turned away with tears in their eyes. Gallus and Sandbar closed their eyes too, but held their sorrow in. Even Smolder and Yona, who had seen battlefields before in their lives, couldn’t help but look at the death and destruction with pity. This wasn’t a war fought against some unnatural evil, this was all over energy and resources. Resources they could have shared, but stubbornly desired it for themselves.
“All those lives… wasted…” Sandbar muttered, shaking his head. “I’m really wondering if such a world can be fixed with friendship?”
None of them answered that question, and just focused on the screen in front of the while the narrator continued. The war had finished after ten years, and the Americans believed that peace had finally arrived. .
“Well, that’s good!” Silverstream said with a perky smile.
However, according to the narrator, it wasn’t the end. A final confrontation was coming.
Silverstream sighed and deflated a bit. “And that’s not.”
He went on to explain that victory and rebuilding were no longer viable options. The next war was going to bring a destruction unlike any other and survival was all that mattered. There was a secret group who foresaw this and planned to save what they could of humanity. They sat in lab coats or suits, talking among another in some underground bunker. For some reason, the group was getting a bad vibe of these people even though they were supposedly trying to save lives. Ideas were tossed around from taking shelter in the mountains, hiding in an oil rig, or even leaving their planet for a new one by colonizing space.
“Wait, they can go into space?!” Ocellus asked, her eyes as wide as dinner plates She cleared her ears out to make sure she heard the narrator correctly. “That’s impossible!”
“After all we’ve seen? I can believe it,” Sandbar replied, shaking his head. “I just hope they don’t discover our planet, no offence.”
Apparently, the narrator claimed a group known as the Enclave were descendants of the elites who tried to save humanity. Although he said that most wastelanders think it takes more than a flag and something called “veritibirds” to govern people as the screen showed another large vehicle but with large windmills attached to it.
“What’s a vertibird? Another species? And who are the Enclave?” Silverstream asked.
Before anyone could reply, they were interrupted upon seeing what looked to be a large vault door slowly opening with the words “112” on it. They saw, past the door, was a large underground shelter that looked ready to take on anything thrown at it. People were seen entering and walking around the grey-bluish steel hallways, looking relieved and relaxed. The narrator introduced them as “The Vaults”. Since most of America’s population didn’t have access to the more radical ideas of escaping distruction a new plan was made. The company known as Vault-Tec provided underground homes for thousands of people to keep them safe from the war. Not enough for everyone, the narrator minded, but enough to keep hope up.
“Well, thanks heavens for that,” Sandbar sighed in relief. “At least one group was dedicating themselves to saving others.”
“I wonder why they didn’t have enough for everyone?” Smolder asked.
“They had billions of people. I guess they ran out of time or the means to do it,” Ocellus suggested.
“Uh oh,” Yona muttered as she and the others saw children hiding under desks with fear in their eyes. The narrator gave a specific date, October 23rd, 2077. Alarms had been rung all over the country, signaling an attack. Some were ducking and covering for whatever shelter they could hide in, others just ignored the end of days happening right in front of them. According to the narrator, they believed it was just another false alarm, only to realize it too late.
“Big uh oh,” Gallus gulped as he saw people running inside the vaults with their families, friends, and few processions.
The narrator suggest that some people were laughing as neighbors raced to the Vaults. Only to feel silly when the bombs did actually come on top of them.
“Yeah, I’d feel silly too if I suddenly got blown up to bits. I’d be laughing franticly,” Smolder said, rolling her eyes.
“I know we kinda have been disgusted by some of the acts of… humanity,” Ocellus said, as she looked at the panicked people with sorrow. “But surely, they couldn’t be all bad? Does anyone deserve this?”
None of her friends questioned what she said and instead looked at the screen with regret. Regret that they couldn’t do anything to help these people. Regret that here was going to be an end of so many lives. Regret that it had even come to this.
“At least some survived. Maybe they’ll learn from it? We ponies did before founding Equestria,” Sandbar said, trying to find some positivity in all this.
According to the narrator, the historians of the modern times didn’t know what happened the day the bombs fell outside of the vault. After all, writing journals wasn’t exactly a priority when trying to run for your life. Fortunately, there were apparently survivors of the war who could tell all about it, but they weren’t what the six of them were expecting. Ocellus screamed as she saw what looked to be a zombie, glowing green as it stood behind a large computer. She changed into a green rat and scuttered under a nearby pillow.
“Ocellus, its not here. It’s just an image,” Sandbar said, lifting the pillow to reveal the shivering mouse. “Granted, it’s uglier than Gallus’ on a bad mane day-”
“Hey!”
“-but its not real.”
“I… I know…” Ocellus whispered in her mouse form. “I just don’t like z-z-z-zombies…”
Smiling, Sandbar held her close and whispered, “Then, how about I hold you until you feel better? Okay?”
“Um, okay,” replied Ocellus, blushing as Sandbar brought them back to group who was grinning at the sight. Not that Sandbar knew why.
The group focused on the screen, learning that these beings were called ghouls. People who were hit by radiation hard, and survived to become what they are now.
“Woah, they can talk? Huh, you’d think their brains be mush by now,” Gallus said.
The narrator explained others from that day survived via other means as well. Such as five robots with brains floating in color jars that held monitors with eyes or lips on them. A weird way to showcase a face for a faceless being.
“Brains in jars? Well, I guess if we ever decide to go the mad science route we’ll just need a small one for Yona’s,” Gallus teased, earning him a kick in the stomach from Yona. He got sent flying to the wall as the others just high fived Yona for her action. “M-medic?”
The others ignored him and focused on a strange machine with a clear glass cover of something… not entirely human yet not fully rotten either. It was connected to the machine with tubes and wires while appearing to be near dead yet breathing.
“If that’s what you’ll look like upon living for so long, I’ll gladly take my normal lifespan, thanks,” Silverstream replied.
The screen then showed two scientist looking females going through junk while surrounded by lab equipment and machines. Some of the junk was being scanned by other machines, while others were in beakers or bottles. Apparently, people were trying to find ways of using the old tech to use to help the wasteland. A noble goal, according to the narrator, but some of the discoveries were better off hidden. The screen then changed to a new machine room, but behind them were bubbling tubes of water, with something shadowy lying inside. The group narrowed their eyes to get a closer view, even Ocellus changing back to normal to get a better look. Whatever it was, it was too murky to see, but it was big… and green.
The narrator finished off the chapter by saying how despite how much humanity tried to avoid change, they couldn't. There was only one thing that always never changed. A word that echoed in each of the six’s heads.
After figuring out how to pause the recording, the group took a moment to collect themselves on what they had discovered. Ignoring the fascination that they were learning about a different world for their project, they had learned of horrors and technology that were beyond anything they could ever dream up.
For Sandbar, he didn’t like how this world fell into corruption and greed. He also had a very negative view of humanity. They seemed more intent on building things for their own personal gain, or gain power without working for the betterment of their kind. Sure, maybe they weren’t all like that, but he still couldn’t forgive them for eating sentient beings like cows or even using his kind like a farm animal. Not mention causing a war that killed billions. What did happen to the ponies of this world? Did they get into the vaults too, or were they all killed in the Great War?
On the opposite mindset, Gallus and Smolder had a more positive view of humanity. Despite seeing such horrible traits, it was clear that the humans were warriors like their own species. They dominated their world with technological wonders and weapons that could rival even the legendary Elements of Harmony. Gallus was really interested in the robots as he dreamed about controlling such a force against his bullies back home. A good laser blast to the tail feathers for each of those swirlies they gave me.
Smolder, however, saw the humans as something to respect for the ingenuity and fighting spirit. Dragons had to fight it rough each day to survive in their lands, and it looked like these humans had to do the same thing as well. I wonder who would win in a fight? Dragons or humans?
Their eager note taker, Ocellus, had already burned through six pages writing down what she knew. Not only did the changeling feel confident about the grade she and her friends were going to get from this, but the fact she was learning something no average being knew about was exciting. Despite the grim situations she saw, Ocellus was determined to see more.
She wasn’t the only one. Silverstream had been just in awe of what she had seen. She had thought the surface of her world was amazing, but what the humans created was magical. While frightened a bit by the monstrous weapons designed by the humans, she was too into the fascinating wonders they had built such as the cars or inventions. Some of the pre-war buildings she saw could even rival the architecture back home. I wonder if Auntie Novo wouldn’t mind redecorating?
For the last one, well, Yona said it best when she shouted, “Yona wants to learn more. This fun to learn.”
“I guess we might as well continue,” Ocellus replied as she commanded it to continue.
“Isn’t Vault-Tec the group that made the vaults for the humans to survive?”
“Yeah, they sound like really good people if they managed to do that,” Silverstream said, sitting down in anticipation.
The first thing they saw was another nuclear explosion which made Smolder roll her eyes. “Yes, we get it. Big boom and all that. Seriously, how many times are we gonna see that?”
“It is getting a bit dull,” Ocellus admitted.
The narrator started the chapter by talking how the day that everyone feared had arrived. The bombs went off, and with it came a nightmare unlike anything ever seen. People from scientists to school children ducked under anything they could find near them from desks to cars. It made the six students wince to see so many lives futility trying to prevent their demise. No harder was this hit home then when they saw a couple in bed hide behind their blankets only to appear as burned skeletons moments later. All the six could do was hope their deaths were quick.
“Hey, Ocellus? Has anything like nuclear bombs ever be developed before?” Sandbar asked, keeping his eyes on the destruction in front of him.
“Not to my knowledge, but then again a lot of magic has been lost before. Most of it powerful stuff,” Ocellus answered with a nervous shake. “I just hope that if its as dangerous as these bombs it stays hidden forever.”
The others nodded in agreement before focusing back on the screen in front of them. The narrator went on to explain that any effort to escape the blasts were mostly in vain. The armies of the opposite sides mattered little anymore as destruction raged everywhere killing millions in seconds and billions more in the aftermath from something called radiation. No place was safe from it not even in the sky or the water. This made Silverstream gasp as she wondered if her home down in the ocean could survive such an event as this. If these nuclear weapons can even reach the sea, and poison the air, where would hippogriffs go to be safe?
“Could Equestria fix a land that’s been hit by a nuke?” Gallus asked to Sandbar. “You guys do know how to control nature to an extent. It sounds like this radiation thing poisons everything from the sky to the earth to the water itself.”
“I... don’t know...” Sandbar answered, biting his lip. “Maybe magic can do something to fix it...”
“Or it might not react at all to this radiation stuff,” Ocellus pointed out.
Sandbar shivered at the thought of something completely immune to magic and poison to everything it touches. I really hope we never build such horrible things in the future.
Fortunately, the narrator did tell them that certain safe areas outside of the blasts. The survivors would go on to find tribes that would make the first citizens of the new Wasteland. However, there were also those who were safe thanks to the Vaults; about a hundred thousands survivors chosen to live underground like Diamond Dogs.
“That enough for town in Yakyakistan” Yona exclaimed.
“Really? How many yaks can you fit in a town?” Gallus asked.
“Uh, a lot?”
The narrator explained how a few years after the war, some of the vaults opened up. The group saw males, females, children, and elderly of all kinds leave the vault and head out into a desert. The vaults were apparently scattered throughout the entire country with tales of them spreading as time went on. The screen showed two important humans, both male, dressed in fancy suits as they talked around what looked to be some kind of rec room designed inside one of the vaults. Just like the last time he mentioned it, the narrator said the US government and its elite knew the end times were coming. So they made plans to make sure that their citizens could survive in the upcoming event of total annihilation.
“Hey, why don’t we have a pool table?” Smolder asked, noticing it on screen.
“We have a pool, silly,” Silverstream answered with a giggle. “Although I don’t know why you want to put a table on it since it would sink.”
“Not that kind of pool. I’ll explain later,” Smolder said, rolling her eyes.
The vaults were sturdy stuff. Designed to withstand not only nuclear bombs, but every other disaster one could think of from meteorites to floods. Yet, despite the warning signs, most normal people didn’t believe such a war was coming. Thus, there were only a hundred or so vaults made with some even holding less of a population then intended. “Bah, these people idiots. When leaders say danger coming, you prepare for danger coming,” Yona proclaimed. “Talking voice right. These vault humans smarter.”
“I notice that this Vault 101 is getting a lot of attention on screen,” Ocellus pointed out as she saw it for the third time. “I wonder if it holds some significance?”
Inside the vaults, it was apparent that the designers at Vault-Tec designed their vaults to last a long time. Giant generators that were geothermal (a theory Ocellus said was about taking energy from underground heat), plenty of vegetation to plant and grow food, and a water purification system that came with a twist.
“Ew! They were drinking their own pee! Gross!” Ocellus shouted as the others made a disgusted face except for Silverstream.
“Why is that gross?” the hippogriff asked.
“Uh, because your drinking the same water you go to the bathroom in?” Gallus pointed out.
“So? Hippogriffs do it all the time,” Silverstream replied.
The others paused as they had to remember again that their friend had lived underwater her entire life. There really wasn’t much of a need for toilets in a place that was one hundred percent H2O. “Uh, Silverstream, where do you go to the bathroom?” Ocellus asked, closing her eyes in hoping the answer wasn’t gross.
Her hope went unanswered as Silverstream replied with a smile. “Oh, I just go outside in the water that leads to school. Why?”
“The same water we sometimes swim in for fun?”
“Yup! That’s the one!”
The others quickly turned green.
“I need to take a shower now!” Gallus and Sandbar shouted at the same time as they struggled to get into the shower in their dorm room first. They shut the door as the sound of their tussle could be heard from outside.
“Me/Yona too!” the girls shouted as they ran out of the room leaving a confused Silverstream to wonder what she did wrong.
***
After washing their bodies repeatedly, (As well as the two boys swearing to never talk about sharing a shower again) the group first told Silverstream to properly use a toilet from now on while also making plans to never visit her home in the future. In an attempt to push what had just happened from their minds, the group refocused their attention on the screen.
In addition to the basics needed for survival, the vaults were designed to be comforting as well such as diners to hang out at, advanced medical supplies, and good food. It was an exact opposite from the surface world as they saw the ruins and devastation above after the bombs fell. Many had died from radiation, injuries, illnesses, and violence. The only problems the vaults seem to have was being clustered as evidenced by one of the darker skinned humans watching in amusement from his bed as others tried to share a single bed despite being four people. It made the group laugh at the sight, something they welcomed after seeing the previous destruction.
“Reminds me of home,” Yona replied with a melancholy sigh. “Always fighting to get best place to sleep. Sometimes Yona forced to sleep outside at night. Yona love pony beds. Very bouncy!” She said this as she jumped up and down on Sandbar’s mattress.
The leaders of the vaults were called Overseers. They had complete control over every decision for the vaults. Almost like a mayor, only with more power. He then explained that after ten years, the radiation from the bombs began to fade away from most of the country which meant that it was soon time to rebuild society and start anew. Vault-Tec had prepared them for anything that could have happened in the new devastated world as well as gave knowledge of the old world for them to use. Although only Gallus found an appreciation for the multiple ideas on how to cook and eat rats. Mmm, I miss Rat Veal.
“Maybe these humans learned from their mistakes? I mean it took ponies their near extinction to come together in harmony,” Sandbar said with hope. “Who can say it couldn’t happen to them?”
“If that’s true, why is it still called The Wasteland?” Smolder asked, scoffing at the optimism. “I have a feeling things are still rough out there.”
Her suspicions proved correct as the narrator explained how the Wasteland was indeed a harsh place to live in. He pointed out that if the pre-war days were such a golden era for humanity, the apocalypse wouldn’t have happened. No, it had just as many bad apples then as it did in the current Wasteland. And Vault-Tec was no exception.
“Wait, what?” the others all said upon hearing this.
“... I have a bad feeling about this,” Ocellus replied upon hearing that the so called saviors of humanity weren’t as noble as they believed.
The narrator mention a paradise city called Vault City which was able to become what it was thanks to some kind of device that was given to the residents of Vault 8 called the Garden of Eden Creation Kit or G.E.C.K. Unfortunately, this was only given to a few rare vaults because the truth of the vaults had made each of the six drop their jaws.
The vaults, and all those involved, were part of one large series of experiments. Each sabotaged or given special conditions to see how the human psyche could react in such situations before it cracked.
“What the what?” Smolder whispered in disbelief. “That’s just sick!”
“Experiments? Like lab rats? Why would you do that to your own people?!” Silverstream shouted in disbelief.
“Yona would never be experiment!”
The ones behind all of this were none other then the very leaders who promised to save them. They saw what looked like contamination suit wielding humans in front of a giant tube that had a living brain in it much to their disgust. These so called elite had their own safe houses, protected and working of course, where they monitored all the vaults to see how their experiments were doing. The excuse was to rebuilt society by seeing how they could monitor the human mind, but in the eyes of the others it was just a farce to play god.
There were entire vaults sealed for generations by orders of Vault-Tec. Not designed to open for eighty years, hundreds, or even never. Entire generations of humans never seeing the surface world once in their entire lives. None of them could image such a thing. No touching the soft earth. No flying in the skies. Not even swimming in the ocean. Ever.
I’d go insane trying to break free, they all thought at the same time.
Other vaults had experiments that just made them sick to their stomachs like a thousand man with only one woman. The grasp of how bad this situation was hit home upon seeing the female cornered by a bunch of men, looking at her with lust in their eyes.
“Oh god, does that imply what I think it implies?” Sandbar asked, tearing his eyes away from the screen.
“I think it does... bastards...” Smolder growled. If it was her in there she’d fight every last one of them so they didn’t touch her.
“Yona don’t get it. Just find it silly. Why it bad?” Yona asked innocently.
“We’ll... tell you later,” Ocellus answered.
The screen then showed a thousand women with one man who looked like had hit the lottery. Gallus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, someone sees to be happy.”
“Yeah, but think of it this way,” Ocellus replied, narrowing her eyes. “That single man and woman in those vaults? They’re the only ones who are key to breeding a new generation. That woman would have to deal with being the mother of all those men’s breed while the male has to be the father of all the women’s children. Now imagine that?”
“... I am, and now I’m thinking of going celibate.”
The weirdest one had to be the one where it was just one man .Nobody else. No other humans. Only a box of puppets for him to use forever. Gallus shivered. “I hate puppets. So creepy. Imaging having to spend years with them as companions? I’d go mad.”
“I think that’s the point,” Silverstream answered, shaking her head. “I was really hoping Vault-Tec wasn’t this...”
“Evil?” Smolder suggested.
“Well, I don’t know about evil,” Silverstream started until the video mentioned one vault being a holographic world. All to the amusement of a sick minded Vault-Tec employee who wanted to be a god and torture the simulations occupants with endless death and rebirth. “Never mind. Evil it is.”
“Seriously, what the actual buck is all this?! What kind of sick leaders would do something like this to their own people?! And what happened to the cows and ponies?! Did they make it out alive as well?” Sandbar asked, growling as he stomped the floor. “Damnit! Everyone of these bastards are just a bunch of greed selfish flankholes!”
He gasped for breath as his friends just stared at him with wide eyes. Usually, Sandbar was the most relaxed out of all of them. To see him like this was a bit unsettling to say the least.
“Geez, dude. You never get this angry on... anything,” Gallus pointed out, eyebrow raised.
“I know... it’s just this... this is just so... wrong,” he emphasized, holding his hooves to his face as he looked ready to cry. “How could a world like this even exist? How can you even save a world like this?”
None of them had answers, but Ocellus walked over and patted his back. Looking up, he saw her smile and blushed a bit as she said, “Hey, I know how you feel, but we need to learn this. Not only for our project, but also maybe to learn from their mistakes. I don’t know if we’ll ever get to the point of such a great disaster, but we need to know about this for everyone’s sake.” She then held his hoof. “Of course, if you want we can take a break. I don’t mind.”
He stared at their hooves touching and shook his head. “Nah, I just needed to vent. You’re right, let’s continue.”
The two nodded and went back to watching, but a little closer to each other much to their friends amusement. The narrator pondered the question of whether or not the vault dwellers knew they were nothing but tools for Vault-Tec. Did they know that their lives meant nothing? That the problems they had to deal with were deliberate and not accidental? The others hoped they did and managed to either break free or get revenge on Vault-Tec for what they went through. The narrator said it was unknown if the elites managed to get any useful data from all this, but as Gallus put it, “Whatever they gained they can shove it up their butts.”
Still, despite the suffering, the vaults did open and others escaped into the Wasteland. Trading one living nightmare for another, yet there were apparently people of importance who managed to do great things in the Wasteland. Such as one vault dweller who managed to bring clean water back to the former capital area of the country.
“Well, I guess the vaults were good for something if there were good people that came out of it,” Smolder admitted.
“I wonder who this hero is?” Ocellus asked, rubbing her quill under her chin. “Creating the means to have clean water in a place whose water is poisoned would be a miracle to these people.”
“I’m sure we’ll learn about him in the future if he’s that important,” Sandbar said, with a sigh of relief. “I’m just glad there are some good people in this Celestia forsaken world.”
While it was possible to get advance tech and equipment from the vaults, which would be useful in the Wasteland, the narrator warned them of the dangers that came out of them. Including the Super Mutants. The group gasped upon seeing one in one of the tanks being controlled by the suited up scientist. It was green, big, and nasty looking. It reminded them of the ogres they read in class one time. The size and angry expression they saw made each of them back away a bit, gulping at the thought of facing such dangerous creatures.
“Yona not scared. M-m-me can beat green giant,” Yona argued, but she was still shaking.
Her shaking only increased when she saw the next scene that looked like the entrance to an underground vampire’s mansion. The skull up top didn’t really help calm any of them down, as they learned it was the home of ghouls that once lived in Vault 12. Their vault didn’t close all the way, exposing them to radiation which turned them from human to the undead looking abominations.
Still, most people stayed away from the vaults or used ones that were known to be safe. To the groups surprised, they saw what looked like a city (yet clearly needing some renovation work) with bright lights and everything. Casinos were seen as well as a giant sign that said “Vault 21 Hotel”.
“Wait, they took one of the underground shelters designed to save humanity and turn it into a hotel? Ha! I like it,” Gallus replied, grinning.
“Ohh, so many pretty lights! What is this New Vegas place?” Silversteam asked, wide eyed at all the dazzling sights.
“I’m sure we’ll learn about it in the future too,” Smolder replied. “Although, I don’t see what so great about a... woah...”
The six began to blush as they saw what kind of a hotel this one was. Near naked female humans, dressed in the most scantily clad of underwear were shaking and dancing rather... erotically for some male humans. The underwear was something you would see in the red lantern district of Canterlot, only there seemed to be added stuff to cover the teats too. Gallus and Sandbar couldn’t help but... stare at the rump shaking in front of them. Even if they werent the same species they weren’t half bad looking. They stared for a long time, taking notice of everything until the girls smacked sense into them.
“Oww, come on. I was just... paying close attention to what we were learning,” Gallus replied, rubbing his head.
“Oh, I’m sure it was very educational,” Smolder snorted.
“Wait... New Vegas... Las Pegasus.... Am I the only one seeing a connection?” Sandbar pointed out.
“Yes, I suppose even in a Wasteland you need a place for males to piss their money away for drinks and whores,” Ocellus replied, huffing with her cheeks pouted out as she glared at Sandbar who just looked away with a red face.
The screen changed (Much to Gallus disappointment) to show another hidden vault. Even after so many vaults it turned out that there were still some hidden away. Ready to be opened. That could mean entire generations of people were still unground. Descendants of the survivors of the end of the world.
“Imagine if Equestria had built such things? I wonder how that would be?” Sandbar pondered.
“Eh, I couldn’t see it unless you guys got into a major war with some faction or another,” Smolder answered.
Speaking of factions, the narrator went on to explain how the citizens of these locked vaults would find out just how different the world 200 years after the Great War. Like who was in charge or trying to take charge. And those in charge might want to use them for their own gain. Yes, the vaults had goods and technology, but the dwellers were the only ones currently in the world who had a pure gene-pool untouched by radiation.
“So? What does genes have to do with anything?” Gallus asked.
“Genes important. Strong genes make strong children for yaks. Make all yaks stronger as a result,” answered Yona.
“Huh, I think that actually makes sense,” Ocellus thought out loud.
Yaks weren’t the only ones to think so, because apparently there were those in the Wasteland who thought the same thing. They watched as the screen changed into a dark shadowy figure that seemed to be a series of machines, computers, and... flesh?
Whoever it was, or whatever it was, it was a story for another day.
“Oh, great. I was hoping we wouldn’t see these guys again,” Gallus muttered as he saw the usual explosion that indicated the start of a new chapter. The others couldn’t help but agree. The sight of that green monstrous ogre like creature filled with rage in its eyes was the stuff of nightmares.
“What are Nightkin? Are they like night versions of Super Mutants? Does this mean normal ones only come out in the day?” Silverstream asked.
“That would be an interesting weakness. Strong during the day, but weak at night while the reverse for these Nightkin,” Ocellus said.
“Yona still think she can take one on.”
The narrator finally started as the images on the screen showed ruined stores, homes, and buildings. The survivors may have lived through the apocalypse, but they had lost everything to do so. Family, friends, leaders, and personal objects were all lost in the annihilation of America. It was a daily struggle to find food, water, medicine, weapons, and other means of survival. However, the worst of it was the culture of America was gone. The identity of these people lost as they struggled to find who they were and what to make in the ashes that lay before them.
The thought of losing their people’s culture was something most of the six didn’t want to experience. For Sandbar, the idea of Equestria’s philosophy of peace, harmony, and friendship being wiped out from existence was unthinkable. Ponies were able to survive the Great Winter because of this philosophy. Would the three races go to war again if it was ever gone? Ocellus felt the same. Her people were just beginning to develop a new culture and identity for themselves ever since Thorax came into power. To lose it all again, forced to return to the old ways? Ocellus didn’t like thinking it often, but she knew that deep down she never would have survived for long in Chrysalis’ method of living as she got older.
Both Yona and Silverstream were slowly turning white at the thought of losing their culture. For their races, culture was everything. From the yaks method of stomping things to their music and good. All of it was important to yaks and they would die before losing it. Hippogriffs had lost much when the Storm King took over their lands. What little they managed to preserve was kept as sacred as any treasure while their new freedom allowed them to restore old unused aspects of their society for the first time in years.
Only Gallus and Smolder didn’t feel too attached to their culture. Having been in Equestria for so long and learn more about other races, Smolder realized, as much as she hated to admit it, that dragon culture was way behind. It wasn’t always that way. Stories told of how dragons once had an empire that lasted for thousands of years all over the world, but it crumbled. The fact that they were still fighting for treasure instead of making a suitable government was proof of how low they had fallen. Gallus, of course, didn’t care if griffin culture was lost. Heck, in was already lost thanks to the lost Idol of Boreas. Now they just barely stopped each other from killing one another. He could only hope that griffins one day found a new identity compared to their current one.
The humans seemed to have had the same problem, as they were left with bits and pieces to put together to establish new civilizations for their people. The scene then showed the giant green monsters, working underground as they lifted large metal objects and began to weld them together. It turned out that there was a bigger threat to humanity instead of just lost identities. Their very humanity was at stake by something that was even more dangerous than the bombs even a century after the war.
“I can’t think of anything more dangerous than those nukes. Whatever it is it must be pretty deadly,” Smolder replied.
The screen then showed something that made all six of them tilt their heads. They didn’t know what it was but it was grey and moving. “Is that a fish or something?” Ocellus asked, as it split into two
“I’ve seen a lot of fish, but that doesn’t look like a fish,” Silverstream answered.
The narrator didn’t help either. He just went on about something called DNA which could cause tumors while radiation could cause wild and unpredictable results when exposed to someone. It didn’t make sense, but that confusion was replaced by yelps as the screen showed what look to be dogs from hell. Their skin turn inside out, balding, and filled with sharp teeth that could rip a filly in two. Their pure yellow eyes filled with barbaric rage and the spines of teeth on their bodies only further ruined their grotesque appearance. “I pretty sure that’s a puppy that even Professor Fluttershy couldn’t tame,” Ocellus remarked.
“Yona don’t like strange dogs.”
The narrator continued to talk, explaining more about DNA and mutation. Finally, Ocellus figured it out. “The radiation! It makes them mutate!”
“Wait, that’s what radiation does? Geez, I’d think I’ll take oblivion over that,” Smolder stated.
While this explained many of the monsters out in the wasteland, it didn’t explain all of them as a Super Mutant, decked in steel armor, appeared in the darkness. The description of them being big, bad and dangerous only continued to make the group fear them more. Yet the surprise was that these beings were not made by accident, but manufactured in a sense.
Switching to a scene where scientists were working with chemicals, it was revealed that the United States at one point started with good intentions. Rival nations had used biological weapons against America, resulting in a plague epidemic that resulted in many deaths. Some of students remembered learning about the Black Death Plague in history, which resulted in half the world's population being wiped out. The idea of using sickness as a weapon only further showed just how deadly humans could be in warfare. In response to this, America decided to create a virus of their own, only it would make normal human beings into super like beings. Faster. Stronger. Smarter. Able to survive against anything and any disease. The Perfect Race.
The Forced Evolutionary Virus, or FEV, did indeed work, but not as intended. The group was grossed out by the sight of a bunch of naked vermin looking critters with large pincer buck tooth teeth. It turned out that the cost of all that power and intelligence was a monstrous ugly form if animal testing was any proof. “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t give up my looks for super powers,” Sandbar stated.
“Amen,” the others replied.
In some place called Maryland, the FEV virus was stored in one of Vault-Tec’s vaults, but for one of their cruel experiments. The group watched in horror upon seeing one of the mutated humans. A giant sack of flesh and meat, its bones horrible disfigured or grown out of size. The agonizing look on it’s face as it died screaming in pain. “Gods, I hope he didn’t live long...” Smolder whispered, shaking her head. To be forced into a mutation that was not only painful, but robbed you of your very looks? Death was a better fate.
And it wasn’t just one, according to the narrator. Vault-Tec had continued to expose people to the virus which only made their hatred of the sick bastards grow even higher. What the poor souls thought was their ticket to salvation ended up becoming their path into a nightmare. It was either painful death, or turned into a monster for those dipped in the virus. Neither of which were great fates as far as its victims were concerned.
“I’d rather slit my own throat,” Gallus muttered, cross his arms.
“I get the feeling Chrysalis would do this if she had the choice,” Ocellus thought out loud as she continued to take notes. She took note of the five heavy green giants who wielded metal weapons and armor that only partially covered them as they charged forward screaming in rage. “I really hope these Super Mutants got their revenge.”
Apparently, being turned into a monstrous green brute wasn’t just enough of a problem you had to face. According to the narrator, the Super Mutants also suffered from reduced cognitive capability. Or as Ocellus explained, they became stupid despite the FEV’s initial design to increase intelligence. In fact, their brains were so small they were barely the size of a peanut which made some of the group laugh at that.
“Man, these guys must be dumber than Yona,” Gallus chuckled.
“Yeah... wait a minute!”
After preventing Yona for gorging Gallus with her horns, they continued to watch as they saw bigger and bigger Super Mutants. While losing their intelligence was a problem, the fact that they got super strength was still a nice bonus. Plus, they could grow up to be really tall. Up to ten to fifteen feet tall. The only one unimpressed was Smolder who grew up with dragons even taller then that. Still even she had to whistle in impressment as a giant Super Mutant, wielding a fire hydrant as a club charged against a group of wanders while ignoring their gun and laser fire. Some of them were even in Power Armor but still got their butts handed to them.
“Man, it would take the princesses to bring them down. Together,” whispered Sandbar in awe.
“Yaks could defeat green monsters... if there were a lot of yaks that is,” Yona said.
Fortunately, the only reason they hadn’t taken over the East Coast was because of one factor. Every Super Mutant was sterile. Meaning they couldn’t breed. “I really don’t want to think of the idea of these things breeding,” Silverstream muttered, closing her eyes in disgust.
“Ugh, why did you have to give me mental images,” Gallus grumbled as he rubbed his eyes in an effort to rid them.
Unfortunately, according to the narrator, they found a way to get around that. Just like Ocellus hoped, the Super Mutants turned on their creators and managed to get their revenge by dipping them into the FEV virus as well, turning them into what they had created. It was a grim ironic outcome, but the others didn’t feel to bad for them. What did become a problem was when the entire Vault became nothing BUT Super Mutants who soon ran out into the world and began causing chaos. Anything that wasn’t a Super Mutant was an enemy to this angry bunch of giants. Small villages of survivors fled or were destroyed by their rampaging raids. Many were even kidnapped and brought back to the vault so they could become Super Mutants as well, thus growing the army. They couldn't be reasoned, and they were such filled with rage at their change from being human they saw all humans as enemies, whose only advantage was that they outnumbered the giants.
“I wonder what would happened if our races were made into Super Mutants?” Ocellus asked as everyone quickly visionsed themselves, green, big, ugly, and stupid. They quickly shook their heads and shivered; agreeing that it wasn’t worth it.
Back in the West Coast, they were facing problems involving the Super Mutants as well, but in a much different way. Unlike their East Coast brethren, who were part of a sinister experiment that went to far, these West Super Mutants were part of a plan to set the world right in someone else’s image. Not only did these West Coast mutants look just as mean and bad, they looked more organized and methodical. Something different from the brutal and barbaric methods of the eastern ones. Both sides were smart enough to kidnap humans to make more of themselves, but the eastern ones wanted those with as little exposure to radiation as possible.
“I see,” Ocellus stated as the narrator explained the reasoning for wanting pure DNA humans to build their master race, “the radiation must do something to change the humans body, even if they aren’t mutanting like the ghouls or Super Mutants. So the less radiation you have on you, the more likely you’ll keep your mind when you mutate.”
“But everywhere is filled with radiation. Even the water and sky,” Silverstream recalled.
“Not the vaults,” Sandbar realized. “Those people weren’t affected by the bombs.”
The narrator stated that the Super Mutants were trying to create a new master race to replace humanity. One that would be united without the mistakes of their past selves. With organizations such as the New California Republic, Enclave, and Brotherhood of Steel not yet formed, hidden, or reluctant to act, there was nobody to stop an army united by such a simple and yet powerful unity. The others watched as innocent humans were kidnaped by the Super Mutants from their homes to be dragged to a painful death or a painful fate that awaited them.
Yet, to the Super Mutants, this was to fix the mistake that was humanity. They weren’t bothered by such things as race, religion, or philosophy. They all believed in some Dark God that was uniting them, and destroying the problems of the old world to build a new. Said Dark God appeared before them and in an instant, everyone’s instincts reacted to it. Ocellus screamed as she hid behind the bed with Sandbar, their shaking rumps shivering at the sight. Despite roaring and breathing fire, Smolder backed up on all fours with her wings spread out and her teeth ready. Gallus was the same, only he used his claws to position himself on the ceiling and screech. Silverstream took a lesson from Fluttershy’s class on avoiding scary animals by playing dead while Yona did her best to stomp and intimidate this... monster.
Even if it was not there, just an image on a floating screen, all six of them could feel a terror in their souls that was begging for mercy to every god above it. It was... an abomination was the closesting thing one could say about it. It was like something from the darkest pit of the underworld. A nightmare that even Nightmare Moon couldn’t dream of. It was a pus like blob of flesh and bone, mixed together in an ooze of tentacles, eyeballs, and wires. A giant computer machine was fused into it, making it both flesh and steel. Computer screens with numbers and graphs glitched as part of its body, while it's sinister stretched face glowed with eyes like fire and death. Just looking at it, even from a video, you could feel a sense of darkness, madness, sinisterism, and evil. Despite the narrator's questioning tone, it was clear that his was the master of Super Mutants.
They watched in horrified silence, those whose eyes were still on the screen anyway, as humans were experimented on and pushed through the FEV vats to become Super Mutants. What made this worse than the others was this Dark God did trial and error until he found that those with low levels of radiation exposure could keep their intelligence after mutation. How many souls suffered from this creature’s experiments and wraith?
Even if they all could admit that Humanity was a flawed species, there was no reason to force them to change into something they didn’t want to be. Neither of them could even imagine changing their current bodies, even if was for a good cause. Especially for something as evil as this thing despite its reasoning.
It was like the friendship they were all learning... but twisted.
Just as Sandbar reasoned, the Super Mutants learned about the vaults from old age computers and set out to overtake them for their precious pure human gene pools. Thankfully, much to their relief, the Super Mutants were stopped thanks to the actions of a Vault Dweller who saved the Wasteland from the conquest of the Super Mutants and their master. The others relaxed and soon gained control of themselves although Silverstream continued to play dead until Gallus poured cold water on her.
“I’m just glad that thing is dead,” Smolder muttered as she shivered. “I hate to admit it, but that thing was scary.”
The others nodded in agreement, praising whoever it was that was brave enough to kill that thing. Despite their master’s death, however, the Super Mutants still existed and wandered around for a new purpose. One of the groups was their leader’s personal guard, the best of the best called Nightkin. Not only were they super strong, but they also had the ability to go invisible.
“Wait, wait wait! These things had access to technology that made them disappear?! Ugh, I don’t know how I’d be able to sleep at night knowing that,” Gallus muttered, before rubbing his chin. “Although, turning invisible would be kinda fun.”
“Knowing you, you’d be pulling pranks left and right,” Sandbar chuckled.
“That and a few other things,” Gallus said, smirking at the thought of sneaking into each Professor’s office and copying the answers to future tests.
The Nightkin today still had their Stealth Boys, but it came at a cost. Using them too much caused their skin to turn dark grey while slowly turning them insane with hallucinations and schizophrenia. One of the easier ways to tell if a Nightkin was nearby was if it was talking to itself or some imaginary friend. Still, a crazy Super Mutant was just as dangerous as a sane one; maybe even more so.
There was some positivity that did happen as the screen showed one Super Mutant with goggles standing outside a town that had a sign that said “Jacobstown” in white paint. Some of them formed communities or even managed to follow charismatic leaders who guided them to better paths. Of course there were insane ones like some female Super Mutant with funny heart glasses that wanted to become the next master of their race, but the narrator was doubtful and the others were too based on her silly look.
Yet not all Super Mutants were insane or looking to cause trouble. Some of them were good guys who helped others out. They saw one Super Mutant, armed with a laser cannon, firing beside a vault human who was using a rifle against enemies off screen. The students realized that having such a strong and long lived friend as an ally sounded really appealing, and it made them smile knowing not all the Super Mutants were bad. This was a bit squandered when the narrator noted that even though some communities allowed humans, ghouls, and Super Mutants to live together, there were still those on all three sides that hated each other. If there's one thing the Dark God did get right, it was that humanity would never fully get along with itself or with others.
“Even when the world is burning around them, they still can’t get along,” Sandbar whispered, shaking his head in pity.
Thankfully, if the Super Mutants do ever form an army again, they’ll find the Wasteland a bit harder to take over. There were powerful factions now that had taken over parts of the Wasteland. And one of them was an order of Power Armored knights with a vow to never let the old worlds mistakes lead to another catastrophic event.
The others couldn’t help but be excited over this next part. They were going to learn more about the amazing Power Armor they saw in the beginning, and about this mysterious Brotherhood of Steel. It sounded like a group of knights, protecting the innocent with their advance weapons against the monsters that lurked in the Wasteland. Each of them already could envision wearing Power Armor themselves and blasting timberwolves with lasers or pounding a bandit in the face with a kick full of steel.
When the title appeared, the group was surprised they were learning about a specific Brotherhood of Steel: The West Coast. “I wonder how many divisions of this faction exist, and if we’ll learn then all?” Ocellus asked.
Immediately, the action had already begun after the title vanished. Various humans in Power Armor were fighting in a battle against some unknown enemy using laser weapons while taking cover behind a broken brick wall. They wished they had popcorn as one of powered humans stood out with a gatling laser canon and fired rapid shots while not caring for the blows that hit him; shrugging them off as if they were spitballs. The narrator quoted someone saying that weapons didn’t matter in war compared to those who wielded them. Still, having an army with guns that could turn you into ash didn’t hurt. If there was one constant thing that mankind was good at it was making weapons that evolved into more dangerous and deadly outcomes. Not to mention the constant misuse of them for their ill gains.
“Bronze. Iron. Steel. I don’t know what plutonium is, but I wonder what our next major weapon will be in our world?” replied Silverstream.
“Wouldn’t it be better to live in a world without such a thing?” Sandbar muttered.
“Hey, not everyone wants to play nice. Cozy Glow sure didn’t when she tried to rule Equestria,” Gallus pointed out. “Who knows what she could have done if she was older with her charisma?”
The video changed scenes, showing the steel armored soldiers walking down the road with their laster guns out while a neary farmer, with his lesser impressive shotgun, just watched. The heavily armored troops didn’t pay much attention to him, seeing him as no threat as the narrator talked. He told about how there were those who believed that nobody deserved to hold the power that mankind once had during The Great War. Something all six of the students agreed upon knowing the aftermath. However, there were also those who felt that they alone deserved to hold such power to prevent it from being used in the wrong hands.
Apparently, the Brotherhood of Steel were a well known group of warriors compared to others thanks to their advance equipment. Blueprints of the Power Armor were showed again, giving Ocellus time to quickly finish her drawings of it. Yona looked at it and asked, “Would Yak in Power Armor make good stomping?”
“Yona, I think you could bring the whole school down if you wore that,” Gallus said, chuckling before frowning. “Although, it doesn’t look like it can be used to fly.”
“Yeah, I noticed that. Do you think we could make metal wings to go with that armor?” Smolder asked, grinning. “It would look pretty sick.”
“I wonder if I could use it to swim?” Silverstream asked.
“Unless you want to explore the bottom of the ocean, be my guest.”
Standing in front of a flag designed to a sword with wings and a few gears behind it, a member of the elite order stood proud with his weapon drawn. While they were few in number, The Brotherhood of Steel was one of the more technologically advance factions in the Wasteland. Power and courage were their strengths, as well as their skill and legacy. In fact, according to the narrator, their origins were from a time before The Great War itself.
In the days leading to the Great War, a small military base was experimenting with the FEV virus. The very same sick science that made the Super Mutants which only made the six growl in remembrance of what the people behind such a thing had done to the poor souls in The East Coast. The soldiers there didn’t know what unethical horrors were going on, only that they were ordered to guard it with their lives. It only made the group wish they did know as they saw the evil scientists experimenting on a twisted flesh like being with their tools.
However, they did eventually find out the truth, and the knowledge that they had unknowingly been part of such a horrible act of inhumanity enraged them. It was made worse when it turned out some of their very fellow soldiers were used as guinea pigs. The commanding officer was unable to deal with the knowledge, and his fate was revealed to the group as he stood on chair while a warm gun lay by his hand. Freshly fired into the side of his head by his own finger.
Order quickly restored as his second in command, Roger Maxson, took command to deal with the scenario presented in front of him. This Maxson stood in front of his soldiers, talking to them with vigor and charisma as they all stared at him with reverence. According to the narrator, Maxson was still a figure looked at by the modern Brotherhood members as a paragon similar to religious worship. They honored him then and they still did so today.
“He’s got a warrior’s look in his eyes,” Smolter replied, nodding with a smile. “I like him. He’d make a good Dragon Lord.”
Her approval only increased as Maxson interrogated and executed all the scientists, as shown by them being lined up and blasted into ashes or melted into piles of goo. Despite the violent outcome, the six couldn’t help but cheer at the sight of seeing some justice delivered. Maxson eventually declared secession from his government upon learning they had ties to this.
Yona stomped in approval. “Maxson great leader! Maxson teach bad science men lesson! Yona approve!”
“Same here!” Gallus said as the two slapped paw/hoof.
Curious, Ocellus turned to Sandbar and asked, “Say, Sandbar? Would you ever go against the Princesses if they ever did something like this?”
“What? There’s no way they would ever do anything as evil as this!” Sandbar argued.
“I know, but I’m just curious,” Ocellus said, shrugging her shoulders. “Call it a ‘what if’ scenario.”
The five all looked at Sandbar who was busy biting his lip. He had been taught at a young age to always respect and look up to the Princesses as the best force of good in Equestria. They lead by example, using wisdom and kindness to guide their subjects while protecting them from any threat. Sure, Princess Luna had turned evil before, but she did get better. Yet, what if they did become evil for some reason? What if they started experimenting with dark magic on subjects? What if they took the same path as King Sombra or Queen Chrysalis did? What if they destroyed everything good in Equestria like The United State’s government did? Could he be like Roger Maxson and sacrifice his loyalty to his country for the sake of what was right?
“... yes,” Sandbar answered with a heavy sigh. “I’d be reluctant to do so...but I would. Even if it would look like a losing battle since they’re so powerful and everything.”
Maxson and his soldiers seemed to think the same thing as Sandbar according to the narrator. Despite knowing that his government wouldn’t treason lying down, Maxson had his troops gather their families before bunkering down at the base. They waited for a response, be it by communication or force, and swore to fight on to whatever end might come. Yet there was nothing. No marching of enemy soldiers, no planes bombing them, not even a stern warning letter.
The US government had all but forgotten them, and with good reason. Because, not soon after Maxson started his rebellion, The Great War began.
Maxson had to have some god watching over him as not only did the bunker provide protection against the bombs, but the war itself would destroy the US government. Allowing Maxson to win his rebellion without even firing a shot. After learning this, Maxson and his top troops pondered their choices. They realized that the nation they once fought and lived under was gone. The world had changed, and what they would decide next would not only determine their fate, but their families and future families fate as well.
Would they be survivors armed with the knowledge and technology of The Old World? Or would they be scavengers crawling to survive with decaying equipment in the New World? The answer was clear as day.
The six watched intently as Maxson lead his family, his troops, and their families across the scorching earth, but not after sealing the base. Their weapons and gear made them suitable to survive the early days of the Wasteland to a hidden military bunker known as The Lost HIlls. There, they would rebuild and survive.
“Just like the original founders of Equestria,” Sandbar whispered in awe. For group, they couldn’t help but find some relief in all this. All day they had heard of horrible people doing horrible things with very few heroes acting in the best interest of others. Yet, at long last, they found Roger Maxson. A soldier who rebelled for the sake of what was right, and lead those under his leadership to a new future for the sake of their children and their children’s children.
It wasn’t hard to see why the Brotherhood nearly worshiped Maxson. They were alive because of him and owed it all to his leadership. Generation after generation would learn their military discipline, technology, and the history of the past in order to keep them strong and hidden from the dangers of the world outside the Lost Hills.
It was revealed they rarely ever interacted with outside survivors, except in moments of trade. They preferred to keep to themselves which was understandable to a point. The world was still trying to restore itself from the breakdown of society, and there were plenty of dangers to go with it.
“Kinda sounds like us Griffins. We really don’t like interacting with others,” Gallus said, but smirked at his friends. “Well, almost all others.”
“Aw, we love you too, Gallus,” Silverstream cheerful said as she hugged him.
“Yeah. Yeah. Enough with the mushy stuff,” Gallus complained as he gently pushed her off.
However, the greatest strength of the Brotherhood wasn’t in their armors and weapons, but their technological knowledge of pre-war equipment. They saw two Brotherhood members holding up a group of dirty look farmers with rusty farm equipment. Obviously trying to get the thing working, but didn’t know how. It was established that much was lost to humanity, including the knowledge of how to use some of that advance equipment work. The Brotherhood knew how to make it work and how to fix it, but rarely did they share it with outsides. In fact, it was becoming clear they kept a lot of things to themselves.
“They seem kinda... selfish,” Ocellus pointed out with a frown.
“Eh, I’ve seen selfisher,” Smolder replied with a wave of her hand. Without that knowledge, the humans on the surface became more tribal and started switching their ray guns for spears just to hunt and eat. All except the Brotherhood of Steel who soon had Maxson’s son running things and his son after him. The Brotherhood formed a council of elders who would lead them, with the High Elder being the chief of the group which was usually someone of the Maxson bloodline, but not always. It felt more like a monarchy than anything in the eyes of the six.
The screen showed three groups of two individuals. One group in robes, the other two in Power Armor, but one looked more advanced and heavier. Despite taking some of their military discipline and rankings from the pre-war US army, The Brotherhood of Steel had three main divisions.
The scribes, dressed in robes, whose job was recording history and maintaining their equipment. “I’d be a Scribe most likely,” Ocellus said with a smile. “It would be fun learning all this advance technology.”
“I think I’d like to be one too! It would be so exciting to learn all of it! And those robes look really cool!” Silverstream stated.
Next was the Knight, a title familiar to all six of them as it was also heard often in their world. These Knights, however, were charged with maintaining and keeping check all the weapons and armor. However, as the narrator explained more about the history of “Knights” two things struck the group that made them all freeze in shock, including Sandbar.
Horses, the cousins of the ponies, were extinct. Second, they were referred as animals.
“Horses...are g-g-gone...that means...ponies too?” Sandbar whispered in horror as he looked at the floor, his heart sinking deep into his chest. His kind... his people... wiped off the face of a planet. All gone.
The others soon walked over and began to hug him as he struggled to deal with this knowledge. It was starting to make sense why he hadn’t seen a single pony in this world after the war. They were all dead. Killed by the bombs. Did the humans not care?
“Wait, what did he mean by animals? Is that some kind of negative term?!” Silverstream growled. Ponies and horses were not animals. They were sentient beings.
“Wait...” Ocellus took a moment to stop and think. Her eyes widened as the group turned to her just as she muttered. “Of course...”
“What? What is it?” Yona asked.
“... guys... I think... I think humans are the only sentient species in this world,” Ocellus revealed. “But that can’t be! We saw ponies in this world! And ponies-”
“Are just as intelligent as a pet or animal in our world,” finished Ocellus as she made Sandbar tilt his head. “You all know the Redbrick series? About the mice that fight against cats and such who think they are dragons, but compared to us they’re just pets? Not to mention they can’t talk or invent or have free will like us in the real world? They run on instincts?”
“Yeah, but that’s just fiction,” Gallus said, folding his arms.
“Well, it may be fiction in our world, but what if there is a world where they can speak and do the things we, as sentients, can do. What if in this world...” She pointed to the screen. “Humans are the only advance thinking species, and the rest of our kind either doesn’t exist or has the mindset of a common wood animal?”
The others eyes widened as the realization came to them. They slowly turned and began to think on Ocellus’s theory. Not existing was one thing, but to be a simple animal whose only purpose was to eat, sleep, mate and such?
“Woah...” Yona replied.
“I guess... this would make sense as to why they didn’t...save ponies,” Sandbar bitterly replied, shaking his head. “But I still...I still hate the idea...” The others looked at Sandbar as he took a few deep breaths. Ocellus then walked over to him and hugged him, making him freeze up as his face began to turn red.
“Hey, you’re real here. And you’re a sentient being in this world. More importantly, you’re our friend. And we’ll never let you die in some castarophy like these humans did.” The others all smiled and nodded to Sandbar who felt a small smile grow on his muzzle before he hugged Ocellus back.
Separating, the group sat down and quietly continued to watch the video in their efforts to push away the grim revelations they had learned of this world’s pony population. The narrator continued to explain the last group was the Paladins, the ones most people on the surface saw whose job was to blast stuff and protect their fellow members.
They could fight raiders, Super Mutants, or the crazed ghouls that lurked around with their training and advance equipment. However, their main goal was not to fight, and sadly not to save lives. It was to gather technology. Pre-war technology that was once used to devastate the earth, and now they were on a mission to prevent it from happening again. They didn’t care about others outside of their own. They saw them as unintelligent barbarians who were had no right to carry the advance tech they found. They couldn’t be trusted with it, only the Brotherhood deemed themselves worthy and responsible to do so.
“Wow, so much for the knights in shining armor,” Smolder snorted, folding her arms. “They sound like a bunch of elitist snobs who think they know better than everyone.”
“Still, it's not a bad mission to prevent a second apocalypse. I just wished they helped people more,” Ocellus replied, wincing as the narrator revealed they turned away would be joiners towards suicide missions. It was clear they were an arrogant bunch, but that had a price to pay.
When the Super Mutant army was deemed a threat, even The Brotherhood saw this as a cause to take actual action. While they did help a little, the real threat was stopped by a wanderer in a Vault 13 suit accompanied by his dog.
“I wonder if this is the same Vault Dweller we learned about in the last video?” Sandbar wondered, remembering the information from last time.
“Kinda would have been nice to see them fight against the Super Mutants though,” Gallus sighed, wishing he could see more of the Power Armor in action.
Later on, it was revealed the Brotherhood took heavy losses in a war against a growing faction known as The New California Republic (Another name they kept hearing about but didn’t know much). Despite their advance training and weapons, they lost the war with the biggest defeat at a place called The Mojave Wasteland. One of their elders tried to learn the secrets of some big Pre-War area that was a towering building surrounded by hundreds of mirrors for some reason.
It was then that the group managed to finally get a good look at this “NCR”, and the war they brought to the Brotherhood. They were dressed in green and brown armor, some of them looking cowpony like with stetson hats, coats, and wielded weapons that fired fast and quick. Unlike the Brotherhood’s small number, this was a real army as hundreds of the NCR fought and charged against the bunkered Brotherhood forces. Bullets and laser fire sailed through the air like a storm of death. Faces were melted off. Heads were reared back from sniper shots. Men and woman from both sides took as many blows as they could before expiring. It was chaos. It was war.
The group stared in awe at the two armies kept going at each other with such vigor it seemed there was nothing that mattered accepting taking down as many enemies as possible. Despite losing their numbers faster then the Brotherhoods, the NCR kept on regrouping, using small group tactics, surprises, and faster numbers to overwhelm Brotherhood defence posts. Even using their own weapons from their dead comrade in arms to fight back. Yet, the Brotherhood held on. Taking down so many NCR with their last breath, the group couldn’t help but show watch in awe at their valor. Even the less violent ones like Ocellus and Sandbar couldn’t help but find the blood inside them excited at the sight of such battle. Gallus, Smolter and Yona felt their respect for the Brotherhood and the NCR rise up upon seeing such warrior determination, especially for the former. Silverstream only wished her people had this kind of power and courage during the Storm King’s attack. Maybe then they wouldn’t have had to hide for so long in fear of him.
Still, despite their efforts, the Brotherhood was still outnumbered 10 to 1. After losing half their chapter, they were forced to retreat in defeat. It was a devastating outcome for the Mojave chapter who now struggled to survive while in the safety of their hidden base, tinkering away while sending some recruits to gather supplies just to survive. Or get rid of those who questioned their actions.
“Man, you gotta hand it to the Brotherhood. They know how to keep going,” Gallus said with a nod of approval.
“If this was a group of dragons, they’d be respected by everyone back home,” Smolder stated. “Shame they aren’t such a powerhouse anymore. Sounds like this NCR is the new king of the hill.”
“I wonder what they’re like. I mean, they really have to be something to beat the Brotherhood of Steel and all their advance technology,” Silverstream said, rubbing her chin.
The group refocused as the screen showed The Brotherhood of Steel, but this location was different compared to the previous ones. They had seen the Brotherhood in the deserts, but now it seemed they were in the ruins of an old city. The narrator stated that despite the Brotherhood seeing better days. They were still a powerful group of warriors who always found themselves in conflict. One such group was a disavowed chapter who went to the East Coast where the nation’s former capital was, and fought a war against the Super Mutants there to protect it.
It seemed that the six of them were not done learning about the Brotherhood of Steel. After all, if there was a West Coast version of the group then their had to be an East Coast version as well.
“So what’s so special about these East Coast guys?” Gallus asked, popping some popcorn into his mouth. The group decided to pause it to get some snacks before continuing.
“Well, the narrator said that they were a disavowed chapter,” Sandbar reminded, “I wonder what they did to get that sort of treatment since they were going to the capital of America to save it from the Super Mutants.”
“Maybe they did something that the Brotherhood didn’t like?” Silverstream suggested.
“Yona want to see now! Let mysterious storyteller speak!”
The group activated the visual screen again as the wasteland appeared in all its sun shined glory. The way the wasteland was described by the narrator made it seem like the nation that had once been America was far bigger than any of the six expected from the sear size of it. It would take months from someone on the west coast to get to the east coast without transportation. It didn't even take that long to travel from one side of Equestria to the other as the other compared it to the map Sandbar had.
If anything, the United States Wasteland was as almost as big as the Dragon Lands, if not bigger. Of course, just like in their world, the humans used to have means of travel that could get you to your destination in a single day, but apparently, there wasn’t exactly a means to do that thanks to the war. The one thing that really interested them was something called “wireless communication” thanks to the works of “satellites.” It allowed you to talk to talk to people across the country, or even the world, without being there.
“Sounds a lot like fire mail,” Smolder said, “it’s our fastest communication method.”
“Can all dragons do it? LIke Spike?” Sandbar asked, tilting his head.
“Nah, it’s something only a few dragons are given by birth. Maybe it's the gods, maybe it's magic or just dumb luck, but you gotta be born with the gift. Dragons who do have it are often considered important because of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lord Ember wanted Spike to be her official messenger when he gets older.”
“I think it would be pretty neat to have a way to talk to your family from long distances. It takes forever to hear back from my folks back home,” Silverstream said.
“Yona like means to talk to yaks back at Yakyakistan!” Yona seconded.
“I guess it would be nice to talk to my little siblings once and awhile,” Ocellus agreed.
Gallus just bit his beak and turned away which Sandbar saw and quickly replied, “Uh, yeah. Let’s focus on the narrator. I think this sounds interesting.” He sent an apologetic smile to Gallus who just rolled his eyes.
“I wasn’t bothered by it..” whispered Gallus, but Sandbar’s knowing look made him sigh. “Okay, not that much.”
While most wastelanders didn’t move outside of the area they were born, there were always those who wanted to venture out and find out new sights. Organizations, like the Brotherhood of Steel, were some of those people. Seeking out new technology, the Brotherhood sent out a chapter out to the East Coast capital which had advanced military equipment and gear. Since the group remembered the goal of keeping such technology away from others to prevent another disaster like the Great War, this made sense. Interesting enough, the Brotherhood did send out expeditions before to places called “Chicago” and “Boston,” but those weren’t as important as this one.
The chosen leader was a paladin by the name of Owen Lyons, who the group was surprised to see was an elderly man in a steel made coat leading a group of younger looking humans in the standard Power Armor. They marched through mountains, hills, and rivers with Lyons never looking fatigued or worried during the entire journey. If anything, his expression spoke of determination and eagerness. Still, they faced challenges such as going through some kind of nightmare like a place called “The Pitt” which was once a city called “Pittsburg.”
“Wow, sounds like it was... quite the pits, huh?!” Silverstream said with an awkward laugh that got her five deadpan expressions. There as a moment of silence along with a chirping sound coming from Ocellus who transformed some cricket wings for herself. “Oh, I thought it was funny,” Silverstream pouted, folding her arms.
Apparently, the Pitt was so bad that Lyons led a scourging of the area and killed many in his path as evidenced by the Brotherhood members firing lasers into an enemy outside of view while taking cover behind some half-destroyed walls in the city. They also found something mysterious in that city, but only the Elder Lyons knew what it was. Yet, the one thing that opened up everyone’s ears was the fact that Lyons didn’t just go there to cause damage, he also saved innocent children.
While the Brotherhood would call it controversial, Lyons was seen approaching a scared looking human child with what many would call a grandfatherly face. He didn’t just save these kids though, he made them into initiates of the Brotherhood which went against the organization's principles as they were all the descendants from the original members and their families.
“I don’t care if he went against tradition, he did the right thing!” Sandbar shouted with his friends nodding in agreement. Their impression of Lyons only went more up as they saw him training them into full-on power wearing soldiers under his command. After The Pitt, they entered a place called Maryland and fought raiders, slavers, and mutants until reaching the Capital at long last. Yet waiting for them were some of the biggest, badest, and worst Super Mutants since the days of The Master as evidence by two scouts of the BOS seeing a group of Super Mutants killing an innocent human.
“Aren’t these the Super Mutants that Vault-Tec created?” Smolder asked.
“So this all Vault-Tec fault?” Yona asked.
“I think it's safe to say that’s a yes,” Gallus replied as the narrator explained that the human settlements in the Capital Wasteland were too divided and apart to really help each other. They could barely keep the raiders and slavers at bay. Heck, they were stupid enough to build a town right were a ficken bomb was.
The Brotherhood was able to fight their way to the center of the city, hoping to find some hint of the old world government, but all they saw was mutants, mutants, and more mutants.
“Just how much of that FEV stuff was there?!” Ocellus asked, slowly turning pale by the size of the Super Mutant army and how numerous it was.
Lyons eventually found a building with five sides on it that used to be the home base of the military of the United States, but it was crumbling apart. Yet, they seemed to have struck gold as old war intel, weapons, machines, manufacturing equipment, and more were all found. The Brotherhood had found their lost tech at last.
Along with a big giant killer robot. His name? Liberty Prime. Designed to install fear into the hearts of America’s enemies. With iron stomping boots, death lasers from his eyes, and mini-nuke footballs? Even the Elements of Harmony would have a hard time taking it out.
“Holy smokes that thing is huge!” Gallus shouted in excitement, his eyes nearly bugling out of his sockets. The others were in just as shocked having seen this monster of a machine before, but the angle of it showing the Brotherhood just under the giant was breathtaking. Gallus even had a tear in his eye as he wiped it away and sighed, “It’s so beautiful. Never before have I wished for anything in my life more than that.”
“What is with you and robots anyway?” Smolder asked, eating a nearby candy bar. “You always go on about how things like this are normally nerdy so what’s the big deal?”
Gallus sighed before rubbing the back of his head. “Okay, look... you know I have no...f-family, right?” They nodded. “Well, I live in an orphanage whenever I’m not...here... it sucks with cold water, broken heater, broken toilet. It’s just horrible” The others were quiet now as they frowned realizing how bad their friend had it when he was back home alone. “But one of the things that we had were books... and comics. And one of my favorites was about this robot superhero who always saved the world, and I thought it was the coolest thing ever. When I was young, I used to wish I was a robot so I could be like a superhero... and maybe not feel the pain of being a lonely griffin with no parents or siblings or anything...”
“Gallus...” Ocellus whispered tears in her eyes.
“But, hey, that was when I was a dumb kid. Let’s just continue watching,” Gallus replied before refocusing back on the screen. The others slowly did so, but they nodded to each other to talk later without Gallus.
While Liberty Prime didn’t get his great debut to fight against the “Commies” of the old world, it would get its chance to fight for the Brotherhood. Even if it only took twenty years to get it operational. While this was happening, Lyons and his followers fought against the Super Mutants, being the only ones strong enough to stand up to them. It was a long and brutal war as the groups saw the Brotherhood training hard, firing their green and red lasers at oncoming hordes of the green barbarian monsters, and fortify their new home. It also seems Lyons wasn’t done recruiting outsiders as he recruited those around them from the various settlements and build an army unlike anything in Washington since the Great War.
“Smart Lion-man. Need soldiers for war. Angry Green Giants hate humans. Get humans to fight together,” Yona applauded with a few stomps.
“I’m just glad he’s defending the innocent people in the wasteland, unlike his members back west,” Sandbar said, smiling. There was finally a man in his wasteland who was doing something for the sake of it being the right thing to do. While the Brotherhood wasn’t the worst he had seen so far, they didn’t exactly help others like ponies would do in this situation. Lyons, however, ignored his original goal and decided to help out those who needed help even when he didn’t need to. In Sandbar’s opinion, that made him the best human so far in this series.
However, it turned out that not every Brotherhood member under Lyons agreed with his crusade. They felt he had abandoned their original goal of getting pre-war technology and instead focused on matters not vital to the original mission. They formed a band of rebels who rejected Lyons beliefs and set out to do what they originally promised to do for the Brotherhood. The Outcasts took over a nearby military base, its equipment, robots, and changed their colors as a final insult to Lyons. They gathered technology from the wasteland as they watched the group march around in their shiny new colors and robots while shooting nearby humans who also had advanced weapons like them.
“If the original values of the Brotherhood are to just horde tech from innocent people and just use violence under the excuse ‘I know better’ then I think Lyons is the real hero and these guys the traitors,” Occelus growled.
“At least they take care of the raiders and Super Mutants too,” Smolder pointed out. “Granted, it's not for saving the day, but at least it's something.’
Yona spat in disgust before raising her head with a huff. “If Outcast yaks who deserted be hanged for treason.” The others just stared at Yona with wide eyes, even Gallus and Smolder looks shocked by such a brutal thing coming from their normally kind friend. “What?”
“Um, you hang yaks if they commit treason?” Sandbar said in disbelief. “And you’re okay with that?”
“It yak law. Since the day of Yak King Genyak Khan. Treason is betrayal of people. Worst of kind,” Yona firmly stated. The others just slowly nodded before turning away with learning something new they didn’t expect from their friend.
“You know, I gotta ask, what is the overall goal of the Brotherhood of Steel?” Silverstream asked, scratching her head. “You gather all this advanced technology and then do...what? Take over the world? Build a new country? What’s the end goal? What happens when you’ve gotten all the technology needed?”
“Maybe they don’t have one. Kinda stupid if that’s true,” Gallus said with a shrug as he watched the two groups, one black, and one silver, fight against one another while a group of wastelanders watched in horror.
To the average wastelander, they didn’t care who was who. To them, it was a bunch of scary guys in power armor with weapons of death. Politics didn’t matter, survival and trade mattered to them. That was especially true when the Enclave arrived.
“Who?” the group of six asked as some strange floating eye like robot started flying around with a jolly tune coming out of it.
It turned out they were another group in power armor with scary guns, but not quite like the Brotherhood of Steel, Lyons Brotherhood, or the Outcasts. However, they all knew who the Enclave, and it was clear that the two groups hated each other. The group gasped as another battle appeared on the screen. With the Brotherhood of Steel on one side of cover while coming towards them, defecting their ray guns, was another army in green power armor that was shaped differently and looked a lot more advanced. Their green energy weapons were blowing up small bits of cover and even turning the occasional soldier into goo. All while Liberty Prime was slowly making his way to the battlefield over a bridge.
“Who are these guys? They’ve given the Brotherhood a run for their money!” Sandbar asked.
Whoever the “Enclave” was, it was a story for another day.
Whoever the Enclave were, they had interested the six into knowing more about them. After all, they were fighting against the Brotherhood of Steel evenly before starting this chapter on the orb. It seemed like they were just as technologically advanced as the Brotherhood only their armor was much different and they were shooting green energy bolts instead of red lasers. The screen started by showing the strange little eye like designed robot that was hovering across the wasteland as the narrator went on about it and how the rest of the world was affected by the war.
“Aww, that thing is so cute. I want one,” Silverstream said, looking at the little guy with sparkles i her eyes. “I would name him Floaty.”
“Yeah, but what’s it do? Does it fight or anything?” Gallus asked, eyes raised.
Silverstream rolled her eyes. “Not every robot needs to be designed for war, Gallus. Wouldn’t it be fine just having a robot that could do other stuff besides kill things?” Just as she said it, someone with a rifle blew up the robot on screen. “Floaty! Noooooo!”
She began pounding the floor over and over again. “Damn you! Damn you all to R’yeh’s Locker!”
“At least the ones designed for war could last longer,” Gallus chuckled, earning a glare and rashberry from the hippogriff. “Also, R’yehs Locker?”
“Hippogriff’s version of where the dead who did bad things go,” Ocellus said, with a smile. “I read it up on Religions Around The World. I believe the good place is the White Shores?”
Perking up, Silverstream nodded. “Yup, that’s where my grandparents are right now, bless their souls.”
“Well, imaginary places where we go when we die aside, let’s focus on why things are suddenly green again in the world,” Smolder pointed out as the screen changed to suddenly lush forests and happy sunlight.
“Wait, what do you mean 'imaginary'?” Silverstream asked, tilting her head.
“Oh no! We’re not having a religious conversation!” Gallus said, crossing his arms in an “X” formation. “We’ll be at it for hours, and I want to watch more of this.”
Agreeing to put aside theological discussions aside, the group refocused their attention on the hologram screen. Apparently, even though the Wasteland was a far cry from what it used to be from before the war, there was always some group or another trying to take it over. The government of the US was long gone after the war ended, and what was once a country of laws, order, and structure fell back into simple tribal methods. Only the strongest were the leaders, a primitive way of doing things, but Smolder and Yona both agreed it was often the easiest to understand from experience.
Although later on in time, various mayors and towns in California would come together to start a new nation known as the New California Republic. However, they weren’t THE government of the US. Just A government that happened to be well structured and organized. Most had forgotten about the former US government, but it turns out they weren’t all gone as most people thought.
“Figures, of all the things to still not die out, even in the apocalypse, its politicians,” Sandbar joked as the others chuckled.
“Isn’t this also the same government that experimented on their own kind? And were behind Vault-Tec?” Silverstream asked, getting a nod from Ocellus in return. “I wonder how they survived? A vault of their own?”
“Yona wish they dead. Greedy leaders.”
Those same ‘greedy leaders’ appeared on screen in a secret meeting discussing plans that the group couldn’t understand, but the narrator was there to explain how it all went down. The top ranking politicians and industry leaders, the elite of the elite, decided that they needed to take measures to protect themselves as top priority over their citizens. They took themselves, their families, and top private security to a secret offshore hiding spot where they survived the end of the world. An event they helped caused. And for two hundred years this Enclave stood safe while the rest of the world suffered.
“So the Enclave is the remnants of the US Government who later had children and they continued to grow in number as the years went on,” Ocellus said, while taking notes. “Why would they be treated in such a negative way by the narrator? I mean, sure they did play a part in causing the war, but so did China if I recall.”
“And why didn’t they set out others to help the other survivors?” Sandbar asked, scratching his head.
“And why were they fighting the Brotherhood earlier?” Gallus also questioned.
“And who ate all the popcorn?!” Smolder demanded, holding an empty bowl. A burp from Yona quickly answered that last one.
Compared to the children who had to grow up in the harsh world of the Wasteland, the children of the Enclave, as well as their children, had it easy. They had nice clothes, good warm food served by robot chefs, and hung out with smiles and joy on their faces while being protected by powerful looking power armored soldiers. These were the children who never had to sleep on cold floors, hunt for food, or get sick from radiation. While the six couldn’t find it in them to blame these children for surviving they still felt a sense of injustice over the fact that the government of the US had all but abandoned most of the population save for a few elitists.
“I get the feeling the nobles in Canterlot would do this if they had the means,” Sandbar grumbled, flicking a nearby candy wrapper in frustration.
However, a safe haven from the Wasteland wasn’t the only thing the Enclave had. They also had the largest Pre-War tech in their arsenal, especially in weapons that would make the Brotherhood only dream of having. They even had their own labs and scientists creating weapons and technologies even superior to what the Pre-War America had. All of this done on a man made island of steel and armor that was once an oil rig. The group gasped at the size of it, finding it to be as big as a palace with enough protection to deal with even a dragon raid. Plus, it was far away from the mainland so nobody knew it even existed in the first place.
“Huh, I didn’t know you could get oil from the ocean floor.” Sandbar turned to Silverstream who shrugged.
“Don’t look at me. I didn’t even know what oil was until recently.”
“Uh, guys, you may want to see this,” Ocellus warned with wide eyes as she got them to look at the screen. On it was a strange vehicle that was flying in the air and yet it didn’t have wings or balloons to levitate it. It was flying fast, fast as a pegasus, and propellers were spinning around as it flew over the ocean and into the desert land.
“Woah, what metal bird thing?” Yona asked, eyes wide.
“It’s not an air balloon or any airship I’ve seen. How does it fly?” Sandbar asked, watching it sail through the clouds.
“Maybe through those propeller things?” Ocellus theorized as she wrote it down in a haste. “But what causes those to work? The air itself?”
Their amazement was soon replaced with caution as the narrator quickly said that they had a plan to rid the Wasteland of those who didn’t fit their “criteria” of being an American. This sent of warning bells inside their heads as they all got a bad feeling about that statement.
Unlike the Brotherhood, who only knew how to work old tech and find it, the Enclave had the resources to make bigger tech and they had a mission for it. One of those was the flying thing they had been watching which soon joined a whole squad of similar designs although some were bigger than others. They were called Virtibirds and they gave the Enclave the advantage in the sky as no other force had such air power.
Such power, much to the groups dismay, was not used for the right intentions. Just like their predecessors before them, the Enclave would land near villages to kidnap people for experiments before flying away with them. It seemed even after ten generations, the Enclave was still playing with innocent lives much to their disgust; even Ocellus was too upset to draw the designs of the Virtibird when it showed up on screen. In fact, she made a mental note to never draw them as she watched them fire upon an innocent farm. Worst of all, nobody could stop them because nobody had the means to travel to their secret base.
Well, almost nobody.
The screen changed to a sight that would have seemed like a joke, but it was real. A non-hostile looking Super Mutant was with a normal human in a number 13 Vault Suit with a cyber dog that had its brain in a jar. It played around the other two who were focusing on repairing an old car. Apparently, not only did this human fix the car, but he also managed to fix a ship alongside a group of followers. To everycreature’s joy they took that ship to the head base of the Enclave and destroyed it.
“Alright! That was for the little guy!” Gallus cheered, clapping his talons.
“Man, whoever these guys were that took down the Enclave had stones,” Smolder replied in approval while giving a thumbs up.
Such an adventure did more than just free people from the wrath of the Enclave. It inspired hope for those in the Wasteland that they could rebuild the world into a better place. Ironically, that was what the Enclave wanted as well in their own twisted way. They didn’t just want to live in a seclusion with all the benefits they had. They wanted the country back. They wanted America back from all the subhuman filth they saw ruining it.
“Jeez, what a bunch of jerks,” Silverstream said, glaring at the screen. “I mean, I can understand the mutations being things to fear, but there were humans too.”
Apparently, the Enclave didn’t share such sentiments as they believed anyone exposed to the radiation of the bombs was considered no longer human, but a mutant that needed to be destroyed. Even those who weren't ghouls or Super Mutants were just considered not human enough for the Enclave. To the Enclave, they were only true humans left and it was up to them to bring back America from the inferiors that had plagued it. It was why the engineered a virus designed to kill anything that had an above mutation rate, create super soldiers with inhuman experiments, they even took one of the scariest monsters alive and created a means for them to speak. It was the only kind of science you would see in a sci-fi movie, but this was the sort of thing the Enclave was good at. They may have been ruthless, but they were brilliant.
“I hate to see what else they could have designed,” Ocellus said, just as the narrator was about to introduce their deadliest creation which lead to them seeing Enclave scientists experimenting on a single human being. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
The person on the operating table was named Frank Horrigan. From what the narrator went on about his killing abilities, he didn’t seem like such a big threat despite the warning. It was only when he revealed that the Enclave found the FEV virus in the remains of the Mariposa Base that the group began to really worry. Frank got exposed and became the first new Super Mutant since the end of The Master. However, the Enclave thought they could do better then the abomination and in turned they made Frank something even the Master would be afraid of.
The group stood there in silence as they saw the figure that was bigger than the average Super Mutant, but had a lot more muscle. He wore the biggest amount of Power Armor that only a beast such as him could have used. His eyes were like lava, filled with rage and an utter taste for destruction. He looked like he could crush any of the six’s heads like peanuts or slice them in half with those large wrist blades. He was by no means physically scary like The Master, but for some reason he seemed even more deadly due to his figure.
“Okay, you must never tell any other dragon this, but I don’t think I would ever want to face a guy like that,” Smolder whispered, shaking in her seat. The others nodded in agreement. Facing someone like Cozy Glow was a breeze compared to this monster.
Thankfully, their fear soon faded when they saw Frank dead, torn in half with his guts coming out, next to the same Vault Suit person they saw earlier. Apparently, he was a “Chosen One” who had not only managed to defeat Frank, but also destroyed the Enclave’s base and send them packing.
“Well, whatever gods choose him they choose well,” Sandbar said, nodding in approval as he added this Chosen One to his small but growing list of heroes in the Wasteland next to Roger Maxson and Lyons.
However, even though the Enclave lost their home, their leaders, and their most loyal soldier, they weren’t going to give up. The screen showed the remnants of the Enclave marching and flying together while being lead by a stern looking man with yellowish-green long coat. His nane was Autumn, the highest ranking senior scientist left, and they rallied behind him as they headed East after being contacted by the new Enclave President.
“Wait, why was their President hiding in the East when they were in the West?” Silverstream asked.
“I think they had one but he died during the Chosen One’s assault and I guess they had a back up on the other side of the country?” Ocellus reasoned, but there was some doubt in her tone.
Arriving in Washington D.C., the Enclave set up in some military bases that were said to be impenetrable (Which caused Yona to state Yaks could smash the walls of super base easily). While there, they started sending out the robots which would carry messages about how the Enclave would rebuild America back to the golden ages. Yet it wasn’t going to be easy to do as they had to deal with the Super Mutants and the Brotherhood of Steel who both were making territories in D.C. as well. Still, the Enclave had their Virtibirds, advance tech, and had the means to fire missiles from satellites in space.
“These guys really like the whole kill everything and let the gods sort it out method, huh?” Gallus said, whistling with wonder as he watched the missiles descend into a fiery death for those below.
Yet the Enclave also used deceit and deception to battle their enemies and there was a possible chance that they turned a Brotherhood ally, a Vault Suit wearing human with the number “101” on his back, to betray his allies and work for them. Yet, even if it did happen, the Enclave were once again doomed to defeat as the others, especially Gallus, cheered upon seeing the big robot himself, Liberty Prime, walk all over the Enclave and tear them apart with his weapons.
“Take that you genocidal freaks!” Ocellus shouted with a loud happy cry which made the others stare at her a bit in surprise. “What? I can wish destruction upon bad guys too you know.”
The defeat that the Enclave suffered was even worse than their previous one. Their leaders dead, huge numbers missing, their bases destroyed, and what little remains of them were being hunted down and eliminated with extreme prejudice. It looked liked their dream of bringing America back in their image was done for good.
“You can’t bring back the glory days. All you can do is move forward. Something I wish griffins would do,” Gallus whispered, thinking about the times he wished his home could be better than it was. Gilda, and a few others, were trying to fix things into something new, but back then he thought it was a waste of time. But now? After everything I’ve learned here? Maybe it doesn’t seem as lame anymore.
The screen changed to show elderly looking folk, huddled around a fire, drinking and talking to one another. It turned out these former Enclave members just gave up on the dream they once had as did many others in the years to come. After two devastating defeats, they’re just wasn’t coming back. All they wanted was just to live their remaining days in peace and so they hid among the Wasteland they tried so hard to destroy and yet ironically became a part of it.
Yet back in the East, there were still some remnants of the Enclave still fighting for their dream. A few soldiers in their ruining Power Armor were firing their weapons in a building while dodging blasts from outside. They often harassed the Brotherhood or those who came to close to what little bases they had, but they were still a shell of their old selves with no new plans to create a new America.
However, the narrator presented a possible scenario. Could the Enclave, an organization that held so much resources and tech really be gone for good? Were they planning a new secret plan somewhere? Would they resurface sometime in the future with a new goal in mind?
“If they do come back, I hope they get their butts kicked a third time,” Smolder snorted.
However, as one organization falls, another one flourishes with prosperity. The group saw the familiar armies of the New California Republic watching the sun set with their guns drawn, preparing for a fight. While they created an empire of peace and prosperity, it seems even they were threatened by a would be tyrant.
“I’m guessing we’re going to learn about the NCR next,” Sandbar said as a interesting jingle started to play that got the group to hum it.
But it wasn’t the NCR they were going to learn about, but also the ones that threatened them with equal power.
The narrator didn't waste any time in telling the listening students on how things such as humility and virtue was no longer a common daily occurrence in the Wasteland. It was rare to come by, and people had to take comfort in the fact that they had to be thankful for what they had because it could all disappearing in a single moment's notice. Things had changed so much now that people who were once privileged in the world were now just as equal as those of lesser status. From the regular farmer to the begging ghoul to the orphan child running in the ruined streets. Everyone was coming from a more humble beginning, then most were before the war. And it was these humble beginnings that helped build those who would one day build armies, lead empires, and change the Wasteland for better or worse.
The students focused on statues of two different armored beings shaking hands while Sandbar noted a fact that came to him. "You know, other then Professor Sparkle, all the other Elements were born or lived here in Ponyville. Most of them from average or lesser off families."
"Kinda shows how you don't need some rich noble to change the world," Gallus said.
The narrator agreed with that statement. While many had tried to build a new world out of the ashes of the old, only one has come to making one, and it came from the middle of nowhere. A place named Shady Sands.
A little village whose people came from a vault fifty years after the war, each made out of people who Vault-Tec knew would not get along. Despite this, they managed to survive until the Vault opened and various groups went their separate ways. Many of which would become gangs and raiders who would terrorize the Wasteland for years including the famous Great Khans.
"Why would they just split up after finally getting out of the vault only to become a bunch of murderers and thieves?" Silverstream said in disgust. "Wouldn't it make more sense to work together?"
"You heard what the narrator said. Vault-Tec purposely made it so that they wouldn't get along. I'm surprised they didn't kill each other for fifty years," Ocellus stated.
Thankfully, not everyone from the vault decided to become a gang. Some chose to settle down in a town called Shady Sands. The six watched how the small farming town ended up being an oasis in the desert with water, food, hospitality, and everyone working together like a real town. It was small and homey, just like Ponyville, though some parts of it were still looking like ruins like Griffinstone.
"Yona like Shady Village. Looks nice. Not as good as Yak's home," she proclaimed.
"Yeah, but I bet all that niceness isn't going to account for the dangers," Gallus pointed out as raiders dressed in bones and rags began attacking a trading caravan who were doing their best to fight back. The town indeed dealt with danger from all directions regularly. Even the Mayor's daughter was kidnapped, making the group fear for the little girl as she was taken away by raiders. However, a strange heroic like music began to play as the screen then showed a man in a Vault 13 jumpsuit fighting giant scorpions with a gun. The narrator went on to say how the man they saw, The Vault Dweller, was believed by many to have arrived in Shady Sands due to the wheels of destiny. For Shady Sands was the Vault Dweller's first stop in his quest to save his home and would eventually become the hero of the Wasteland.
"Wait, isn't this the same guy who defeated that creepy Master and his Super Mutant army?" Sandbar asked.
"I guess so, but I wonder why we can't see his face?" Smolder asked, leaning in closer. He didn't look like much from what she could see, and yet this skinny thing defeated that abomination? Then again, if she had learned anything from her time in Equestria, it's that you never underestimate the smaller creatures.
A map soon appeared with the logo of a two-headed bear (Which some of them found funny) that had names and locations written on it. It was the map of the entire New California Republic which was all started thanks to the actions of the Vault Dweller who would inspire the people of Shady Sands, and its neighboring cities, to begin a dream that would grow over time.
The Mayor of Shady Sands, Aradesh, would gather those who helped save the Wasteland and those of like-mindedness into forming a new nation that would work together to see a new future for the survivors of the Great War. Even the Brotherhood of Steel was an ally for a time.
"Kinda reminds me of the founding of Equestria," Sandbar started with a smile. "All the tribes putting themselves together for the greater good of the group."
"It's good to see that friendship can help make a nation in such a nightmarish world as this one," Silverstream said with a smile.
"United cities would also be usefully in fighting off evil raiders," Yona pointed out.
"And hey, if the Brotherhood were allies at one point, I guess they were cool," Gallus said, smirking.
"But didn't they break away from each other and cause that big fight by Helios One?" Smolder pointed out.
"True, but good thing something like that never happened in Equestria," Sandbar said with a prideful smile.
"What about the Night Pony persecutions?" Ocellus asked, making the others turn to her in shock. "Wait, you didn't know that?"
"Woah, woah, woah! Are you saying that the ponies of Equestria, the happy go lucky and smiles for everyone creatures of the world, actually persecuted their own race?!" Smolder shouted in shock.
"I... I never heard of this!" Sandbar shouted in horror. "What happened?"
"Well, from what I read in the book I found, for about two hundred years after Nightmare Moon's rebellion, Night Ponies aka the Bat Ponies, were often discriminated against the others because they were often associated or loyal to Princess Luna before she turned. They faced a lot of prejudiced for a long time. Many ended up being exiled from their homes, overpriced for foods and goods, and some were ever hurt really bad by angry mobs," Ocellus explained, much to their growing disgust.
"Didn't Princess Celestia ever get involved?" Silverstream asked.
"Well, during those times Equestria's enemies were often trying to go to war or attack the nation due to losing one of their princesses," Ocellus continued. "The nations of Griffinstone, the Dragons, the Minotaurs were always attacking. Even Saddle Arabia was an enemy at the time. There were even Nightmare Moon worshiping cults that Celestia had to constantly fight from all over the nation, and it didn't help that some of the Night Ponies felt there was no choice but to join them to save themselves."
"How Night Ponies become equals?" Yona asked.
"Princess Celestia came up with an idea on using the Night Ponies as a night strike group on their enemies. Over time, they became respected again. Generations went on, and ponies forgot about Princess Luna over time, so the hatred dissipated."
The others were silent as they pondered over what they had just learned from their bookworm friend. For so long they had assumed, especially Sandbar, that Equestria hadn't done anything negative like the things they saw from this Wasteland. Yet, even Equestria wasn't immune to things like prejudice, war, and hatred.
"Well, no nation goes through things perfectly, and they get better over time. So let's see how the New California Republic did," Ocellus said before they continued to watch, however, she noticed how Sandbar looked a lot more down now upon what she revealed. It wasn't a surprise. He took pride in his home country's principles and to learn they were broken once must have been a severe blow to him.
Ocellus made a mental note to talk to him when they took a break.
After the NCR was formed, Aradesh was made "President For Life" and lived for a long time until he decided to wander out into the Wasteland and disappeared. Maybe he went to find his old friend the Vault Dweller? Regardless, his name would forever be remembered in the history books for starting something more significant than he ever dreamed. But while he may have made the NCR's starting grounds, his daughter, Tandy, made it the powerhouse it was today.
While the official records didn't talk about her kidnapping for obvious propaganda reasons (a fact that made all six of them snort), it was apparent that being pulled into that situation made her into the ambitious leader she became after her father left.
"Woah, Old Lady lived to be one hundred? Long-lived," Yona said, nodding her head in respect.
"Kinda not that big of a deal when you got ageless alicorn princesses," Sandbar stated.
"Or long-lived changeling royalty."
"Or thousand-year-old dragon lords."
They turned their attention back to the screen which showed troops of the NCR scouting and taking over various lands. While some cities and areas were willing to join the NCR, others had to be taken over with force. The Republic had some of the pre-war technology from their original vault home, but that was nothing compared to Vault City. One of the few Vaults that actually went right, Vault City was a paradise in the Wasteland with advanced technology, food, and servants. While it may have been advanced, the residents were very tight on their control to the point of even having outsiders being forced to serve them just for a safe place to live in paradise.
"Guess some people will do anything to be safe," Gallus snorted. He would never trade his freedom for servitude.
Vault City wasn't the only group that didn't want to join the NCR. Some other cities like New Reno or Vaults like Vault 13 didn't want anything to do with them. The six could see why with the latter as it turned out, the Vault was filled with the most dangerous kind of creatures in the Wastelands. One that nearly made the group pass out from the terror that was the Deathclaw.
It was a monster of a beast that looked like a horned demon with sharp claws and teeth that could tear a house apart in seconds. Tartarus itself must have birthed these monsters because they were taller than even Super Mutants while their ash burned skin and red eyes made them look like your worst nightmare.
"And there is a Vault full of these things? I wouldn't even go in there for all the gems in the world," said Smolder, shivering.
For all its good intentions, The New California Republic wasn't keen on just letting these areas like Vault City and New Reno go. They expanded and forced others to join, whether they wanted to or not, using diplomacy, sabotage, or even forced to become a part of them.
"I don't like the idea of forcing others to join you," Sandbar stated, shaking his head. "That's not friendship, even if your intentions are good."
"I think the rules apply differently here, buddy," Gallus replied, crossing his arms. "The world's gone to the crapper so I think it would be best to get everyone together and work on making it a better place. Sure, they might complain about it, but they'll get used to it."
"But what stops the NCR from becoming a dictatorship?" Ocellus asked while writing notes. "I mean, it's good that the goal is to help everyone work together, but what if it gets too powerful or someone gets to be too controlling, and it becomes corrupt like the previous US government?"
"You can't get rid of corruption forever, Ocellus. It's something that happens, regardless. The best you can do is control it," Smolder said. "Personally, I think the NCR's got the right idea in taking over places. You build a new nation out of the ashes of the old one and make it better then it was before."
"Plus, it would provide safety and comfort for all, wouldn't it?" Silverstream asked.
"But it's not a choice to be NCR. You join or forced to join. Not free will" Yona countered.
Before their discussions could be continued, the narrator talked about how the NCR continued even after Tandy, but not in the glorious days as it was. Despite gaining so much land, the NCR continued to move forward in its efforts to expand spreading all over the west and heading towards the east towards a place called Nevada. However, other factions ruled the area for a long time such as the Brotherhood of Steel as shown with two members of the military organization arguing with some NCR troops.
Despite having been allies for a time, the amount of pre-war technology soon divided their friendship as the group remembered the events from the previous videos. It was Helios One that their conflict came: a mass station that could provide energy for half the country while also using its power to activate a powerful satellite weapon that could fire a beam of energy onto the earth like the wrath of a god.
"Cooool," Smolder, and Gallus said with awe, imagining the destructive power of such a weapon.
"Naturally, the two didn't agree, and they fought. Why are they showing this again?" Sandbar asked.
"Nothing wrong with going over some of your past notes. I do it all the time," Ocellus said with a smile.
"Yeah, and we're always late on the lunch line because of it," Smolder muttered causing the changeling to blush.
Since the Brotherhood was all about weapons, they didn't want anybody else but them to control Helios One, even if the NCR had good intentions of using it for energy. Once again, the Student Six were forced to watch the battle that had lead to many needless deaths that could have been resolved if someone, anyone, just decided to talk instead of fight. But it was as the narrator said in the beginning.
War never changes.
Sandbar turned away, not wanting to see the deaths while the others stomached it in. Despite having seen it before, even admitting that it was cool to see such a battle in an action movie sort of way, it was still the fact that this was a real event that caused them to hold their applause. Even if some of them did hold respect for the warriors dying for their cause.
"Remind me to never visit this place," Silverstream said, shivering. "I have a feeling I'd go only a few miles before something tried to kill me."
While the Brotherhood has their paladins and their armor, the Republic had an army of patriotic and loyal soldiers who were willing to die for their country and their dream of a united world. Although numbers weren't the only thing the NCR had.
The also had the Rangers.
A cool and yet dramatic tone in the music changed as the video showed armored humans dressed in cowpony hats shooting with such precision and skill that it was like watching a dance of death. With one shot, heads burst, and bodies went down as the Rangers were swift like water but struck like lightning. All while doing it with a level of coolness and aura that the others couldn't help but stare... while also wishing that they had those shades. There was even a squad of armored soldiers with long barrel guns aimed at enemies far away with the sun shining beside them as it fades to dusk. Their brown coats blowing in the winds as the darker skies allowed their glowing red eyelids on their helmets to give an early specter-like glow that only further increased their frightening aura.
According to the narrator, the title of "Ranger" was usually given to special lawmen who traveled around the country delivering justice and order upon the wicked and corrupt. Similar to the ancient knights in the medieval days. In this new west, they were the best of the best in the NCR. Not for their weapons or armor, but their skills and abilities to get the job done. They were not born or forged to fight like the Brotherhood or the Enclave, they were trained in the harshest way possible to create a loyal soldier who would die for their country and fellow Republicans.
With this edge, it wasn't a surprise now how the NCR managed to beat the Brotherhood of Steel for Helios One. Even if it did take a good number of them out. Of course, it kinda seemed like a waste because despite all that sacrifice the NCR couldn't get the thing fully powered yet.
"Well, that seems like most of those soldiers died for nothing," Sandbar grumbled.
"Still, taking down the Brotherhood of Steel was an impressive feat in of itself," Gallus pointed out. "Despite all those laser weapons and power armor, it looks like the numbers game and Rangers managed to prove the deciding factor."
"Dragon Lord Torch said it best once," Smolder nodded in agreement. "You can have the most powerful weapons in the world, but it's useless against somebody more skilled than you."
However, Helios One was only one of many ways the Republic was planning to save the world as the slide showed a great big dam with a large river. It made the others give an impressive whistle based on how well designed and big it was.
"Ooohhh, Yak wants to try smashing that!" Yona yelled with stars in her eyes.
"Sure, if you can avoid getting drowned to death afterward," Ocellus joked making Yona start to second guess.
The Hoover Dam wasn't just a means to bring about freshwater, but it also could provide electricity to the nation. Yet, the dam was also blocking something else. Across the Colorado River was another nation. Another army, one that the NCR had never faced before, with a leader that could rival the Master in terms of both charisma and cruelty.
“So what kind of an army could be giving one as big as the NCR trouble?” Gallus asked, raising an eyebrow. The NCR had managed to beat both the Enclave and the Brotherhood of Steel despite its losses. Not to mention it had expanded its territory like none other had managed to do in the Wasteland. “For this Legion to be giving them a challenge, they sound mighty powerful.”
“I don’t know, but they must be something,” Sandbar replied as he and the others waited for the narrator to start. “I just hope we don’t see too much bloodshed.”
The scene started in a way that seemed a bit strange: a bunch of human looking children in a school learning about history. Silverstream cooed and said the human children were so cute looking while Smolder just snorted and said they looked like monkeys. The narrator started the lesson by saying a very important line that the others couldn’t help but take to heart: “Those who never learned from the past are condemned to repeat it.”
“Wish dragons could do that,” Smolder muttered, crossing her arms. How many times had the dragons, claiming their might and superiority, managed to be beaten by the other races or fall into infighting? One thing she hated to admit, ever since coming to Equestria, was that the dragon race might have been mighty beasts of terror, but they were among the least technological, economical, and cultural nations in the world. Heck, even the tribes and nations in the Wasteland had done more then the dragon race had done in the last three thousand years.
Yet, according to the narrator, it seemed that even the Wastelanders were doomed to repeat their own historical mistakes as well. Most of their books, knowledge, and documents had been destroyed in the Great War. They were forced to start over and learn again. Yet, there was one man who was deliberately causing those mistakes. And his name was...
“Wait, is it Sea-zar?” Silverstream asked.
“I think it was Kai-sar,” Gallus pointed out.
“I think his people call him Kaisar and everyone else calls him Caesar,” Ocellus said, writing both names down. “Maybe they’re titles?”
“Why have two names? Yak confused,” Yona pondered.
They took a look at this “Caesar” person who sat on his throne under a big red tent decorated with gold including a bright shiny place of his face written in a language the group couldn’t understand. Flanking him were soldiers who wore armor very similar to the Royal Guard armor in Canterlot, only it was red and black with scars showing wear and tear through battle and bloodshed. Equally as intimidating, were the large black dogs growling beside them and showing their terrible teeth.
The fire pits surrounding Caesar gave him an unearthly glow as he stared at them. His cold dark eyes making each of them shiver from top to bottom.
“Yona not like bald creature.” A statement that the rest of Yona’s friends agree with. There was something about this human that was bad news and you could tell just by looking into his eyes. There was a level of intelligence in them, but also a spark of madness.
Apparently, this Caesar was named after a famous general and warlord who ruled an empire two thousand years ago. This new Caesar was out to finish what the original started, as they saw the ruler standing before his troops which numbered so far that it was enough to fit a small gorge. He was giving a large speech that, while unheard to the others, seemed to be rally the troops who saluted in unison to him.
Rather then try to make America great again as it was in the old days, like the NCR was trying to do, Caesar was trying something different. He wanted to create a new nation with new ideas and purpose, while using the old Roman Empire as an inspiration behind it.
“Oh yeah, that’s a king’s attitude alright,” Smolder said, nodding her head. “I can tell he’s the military type. Reminds me a bit of Ember’s father when he ruled.”
“It kinda bothers me how similar those uniforms look to the Royal Guard’s armor,” Sandbar pointed out.
“Hmm, that is an interesting point. I wonder which world created the armor first and how did it advance to this sort of level?” Ocellus asked, writing down more notes. “I wonder if this guy is that original Caesar’s descendant or something?
According to the narrator he wasn’t. Caesar wasn’t even his real name. He was really Edward Sallow, born in the NCR territory known as the Boneyard. There he was raised by the Followers of the Apocalypse.
“Oh not another doomsday cult,” Silverstream groaned, facepalming.
“Wait, you know a doomsday cult?” Sandbar asked, eyebrows raised.
“Kinda. Let’s just say there are some hippogriffs back home who believe the ‘old ones’ will rise again and flood the earth to devour us all,” Silverstream replied, rolling her eyes. “Auntie Novo has to keep dealing with them and their insane babble every six months or so. Personally, I think they’re just eating purple seaweed. That stuff messes with your mind.”
Despite the name, the followers weren’t a doomsday cult, but rather a group of doctors, scientists, and historians who gathered knowledge of the old world. With it, they dedicated their lives to make the world a better place. They shunned violence, and advocated for a world without weapons which put them at odds with groups such as the Brotherhood and even the NCR.
“Sounds like my kind of group!” Ocellus cried out with cheers. “I’d love to be working for a group that uses science and learning to help make the world a better place.
“When you think about it, the school already does that,” Sandbar pointed out. “After all, we all come from different places and we can use what we learn her to help our people.’
The others all nodded in agreement, smiling as they thought about how each of their races could benefit from learning friendship. The griffins and dragons could actually end their isolated and depressed states to seek help from others and grow their societies. Hippogriffs could adapt better to the world after being in the ocean for so long. Yaks could seek more peaceful means of cooperation rather than just using force. And ponies could learn more about the other races rather then being afraid or shunning them.
Yet sadly, it seemed that such a vision was not going to be easy in the Wasteland. It was hard to imagine that the man who would be an Emperor would come from such a humble and kind place, but life was ironic in many ways. When he became a young man, Edward Sallow was chosen to go on an expedition into researching various tribes of the wasteland to learn about their cultures. Yet Edward seemed to be too smart for his own good. He saw the tribes as barbaric savages that he held both in contempt and pity. He felt it was his duty to civilize them.
“Does that mean he educated them with knowledge and wisdom?” Silverstream asked, hopefully.
“Somehow I doubt it,” Gallus answered, getting a bad feeling in his stomach.
It was among the so called “savages” that Edward found books related to the original Caesar and the Roman Empire. They watched as the young sandy blonde read book after book faster than even Twilight could read. Each sentence enticing him further and further like a siren searching for her next meal.
“Looks like Ocellus on an average day,” Smolder jokes, getting a high five from Gallus.
“Hey!” Ocellus snarled before changing into a skunk and aiming her tail end at the dragon. “Care to have another tomato bath with Professor Pinkie Pie?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Smolder replied, raising her claws as Ocellus turned back into a changeling and continued her notes.
“When did she skunk you the first time?” Gallus whispered, curious.
“When I caught her checking out Sandbar’s rump during gym practice,” Smolder giggled before turning her attention back to the narrator.
The Romans by their time were the most civilized empire the human world had seen for its time. An empire that spread throughout the world. Advance medicine and technology. Art and culture unlike anything ever seen before. One of the most advanced forms of government and more. Even when it fell, its discoveries and actions would influence the western sphere of the world for a long time. The problem was the Roman way was born of brutal conquest, cultural takeover, subservite, slavery, and elitism. It’s moral decay and lost principles gave way to corruption, apathy, and destitution. Eventually, Rome fell to the armies of the barbarians they had long taken over. Even though Edward could have avoided the same mistakes Rome made during its time, Edward believed he was smart enough to avoid them.
Edward took the title of Caesar and forged a new army, his Legion, under the tribes of Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and Colorado. The group watched in horror as the Legion butched an entire tribe with brutal tactics that left hundreds dead and in pieces. Women and children were torn apart by the various swords and spears. Heads of tribal leaders were put on stakes. And entire villages burned with the ashes of its owners smoking the heavens. It was something nothing seen before in Equestria. It was total warfare.
“I’m gonna be sick!” Silverstream shouted as she rushed into the bathroom, her gagging sounds heard soon after.
“Yona too!” Yona shouted, making for the nearby trash can.
“By Celestia and Luna... why?” That was all Sandbar could say as he began to shed tears upon seeing the Legion utterly destroy a family despite their pleas for mercy. Ocellus had long stopped taking notes and just turned into a rabbit out of fear to hid behind a pillow. Gallus was doing his best to hold his lunch as well, nearly tempted to just leave and find a toilet to throw up in.
“This is... this is wrong...” Smolder muttered, trying to hide the fact she was starting to tear up as well. Dragons were fighters, it was true, but this wasn’t fighting. This was slaughter.
In the end, eighty-six tribes had been united under one leadership. Something never before seen in the wasteland. There were only two fates for those who stood again the Legion: Assimilation or Annihilation.
“I can’t believe some nerd from a bunch of pacificts did such a thing...” Gallus stated, shaking his head in disgust. “Like, was he born wrong in the head or something?!”
“How many tribes do you think got killed off out of those eighty-seven?” Smolder asked, grimly.
“H-H-He killed them? Even the children?” Silverstream asked, poking her head out the door while wiping her beak. “How can someone be so... evil... not even the Storm King did this.”
“Or Chrysalis,” Ocellus whispered, still in her rabbit form, teary eyed. “She was cruel, but never like this...”
It only got worse. The males who survived the attacks were forced to become Legionaries. Their entire culture was wiped out with any traces of what they once were eliminated. They were no longer the savages but the “enlightened” members of the legion. The had no will of their own and only one purpose: To fight and die in the name of Caesar.
“Some of those soldiers look to be just children! He lets children fight in his wars?!” Sandbar shouted in horror and disgust. What looked like a teenager boy was holding a heavy machine gun and marching with men much taller than him. Yet he was showing no sign of complaints. “This flankhole is sick! A sick sick monster!”
“Not even the Enclave was this bad,” Ocellus replied, slowly making her way towards Sandbar and hiding behind him. He noticed and quickly took her into his hooves, keeping her close and calm against his chest.
Yona had finally stopped puking before shaking her head and looking less green. “Yona don’t feel good.”
“Neither do I,” Gallus muttered, holding his stomach. Even he couldn’t crack a joke or sarcastic statement against this.
Yet for all the brutality, it had indeed brought order to the territory that Caesar had taken over. He ruled with fear and violence, but peace was the result. A brutal peace that spoke of death if you dare questioned the might of Caesar, but for some it was enough.
“This isn’t peace, its tyranny,” Smolder muttered.
“Isn’t that how Dragon Lords usually rule?” Silverstream asked, tilting her head. “I thought strength and violence was the norm?”
“Yeah, but... not like this... this is just...I don’t know...” Smolder brought her knees to her chest and felt small. All her life she was told that strength was the greatest thing a dragon could have. Strength made others follow and respect you. It got you a horde, land, even a mate if you could woo him or her with your abilities. After all, the Dragon Lord was always chosen among the strongest. Coming to Equestria had made Smolder realize there was more to life than just strength. There was friendship, love, trust, and kindness. Thing she didn’t fully understand until meeting her friends and teachers. Seeing the Legion not only live that same philosophy of ‘might makes right’, but utilize it to the fullest of extent, made her wonder if dragons would go down such a road one day. Ember might have been trying to change things, but she was still just one Dragon Lord. A Dragon Lord trying to change thousands of lifetimes traditions and philosophies. There was no telling the next Dragon Lord would keep the same viewpoint as Ember, or if Ember would even live long enough to bring real progress. Dragon Lords died after all, sometimes from those challenging them for the position or from the many dangers of their land.
Would the dragons ever, at some point, be just like Caesar's Legion? It made Smolder sick just thinking of such a thing. If they ever did, she would have to not only abandon her friends but even fight them... maybe even kill them to prove her dominance. She could never do it. Even if Ember ordered her to betray her friends, she couldn’t do it.
“At least this not any worse,” Yona pointed out, thinking they had seen the worst yet.
And then they learn what happened to the females. Their reactions were instantaneous.
Silverstream screamed in horror and had nearly fainted. Yona started puking in the trash again. Gallus couldn’t hold it in this time and rushed to the bathroom to let out his dinner. Ocellus started crying into the chest of an equally crying Sandbar who looked like the last of his innocence had been shattered. Smolder just stood there in horror upon seeing the utter evil in front of her as she began to tear up as well.
The women of the legion were, for lack of a better word, sex slaves. Their entire purpose was to be to the subservatude of the males. To be raped over and over again and producing more children. Those who were girls were taken away to be made into slaves and baby makers. Those who were boys were trained to be soldiers to die for the legion.
There was no freedom, no dignity, not even a single care for the females. They were just tools for Caesar to increase his army’s ranks. It didn’t matter how strong, wise, or talented a female was. They were only good for breeding an nothing more. It was a fate worse than death for many, and a fate all tired to avoid when dealing with the Legion.
While slavery had been practiced by many in their worlds history, almost every creature was able to finally end the barbarici practice in the years since the ancient days save for a few kingdoms. The last official nation to do it were the Centaurs, but Equestria defeated them in a war and forced them to end the practice. Since then, only tyrants like Sombra and the Storm King, had ever practiced it but they were often defeated before they could spread the practice.
When it came to rape? It was just unthinkable to even imagine such a practice being normal for a nation. No race on this planet ever approved of it. Not even dragons or changelings under their cruelest of leaders had made such a disgusting act legal. Such a thing was not only unthinkable but rarely ever done. When it was done, it was punished so harshly that it all but encouraged the fear of performing the action. The last pony to even try such a thing in Equestria was over eight hundred years ago, successfully attacking six mares before he was caught. Celestia didn’t just jail him for life, she used him as an example by publicly cutting of his... equipment, and burning the rest off with her horn. Since then, no other attempts at rape had even been seen in the land of ponies.
Other races just straight up executed rapists or had them thrown into Tartarus as punishment. It was one of the worst acts one could do to another living being. Yet here was a society, a nation, that not only practiced such horrible acts as genocide, rape, and slavery, but encouraged it. Prided itself on it. Lived on it. Every evil villain from Sombra to the Storm King to Triek himself was nothing compared to this lone human. This Edward Sallow. This Caesar.
The silent six watched in horror as the women were huddled in iron pens like animals. Their clothes, if they even had any, were washed out rags that looked covered in mud and waste. Their bodies brutally bruised to the point where it was hard to find a single area not damaged. Some were crying in masses, others were just staring out into the abyss with void like eyes. The souls dead inside of them as they prayed for a quick death to their endless nightmare.
According to Caesar, this was a better option than their previous lives. In his mind, being a slave was a way for the defeated and punished loser tribes to become something of worth. Something greater than the savages they once were.
“He needs to die...” Silverstream whispered, much to the shock of everyone as she stood up. There was something in her eyes that only Gallus had seen once during their trials with the Tree of Harmony. Silverstream looked ready to jump at the smiling smug face of Caesar himself and rip his throat out. “I don’t care if its the NCR, Brotherhood, Enclave, or even some courier in the desert. Someone needs to kill him.”
“Silverstream...” Gallus said in shock.
“Don’t say you don’t want it either!” she shouted at the others, eyes weeping despite her angry expression. “Don’t you dare say that someone this... evil deserves to live! If I ever met this horrible, disgusting, death worshiping, tyrannical piece of filth I will personally take my Aunt’s Spear and shove it down his bucking throat!”
She turned away and then started to sob sofly, trying to hide her rage and sorrow at the fact that there were so many dying and being raped. And she could do nothing to stop it. Gallus got up and slowly hugged her, letting her cry on his shoulder. The others soon joined in. Their tears mixing as one as they continued to hear the horror before them.
It would horrify their teachers to think this, but they believed Silverstream was right. Friendship couldn’t stop such a man as Caesar. Only death could. Even the narrator agreed with them while stating that nothing Edward Sallow did justified his actions. Even if it was ultimately a path for greater peace despite all dying in the name of servitude to a tyrant.
“I think... I think we need to stop here,” Ocellus said, turning back to her normal form as she ordered he sphere to stop. “We can continue tomorrow, but... I really just want to go to bed.”
None of the others could disagree with her, but Silverstream didn’t let go of Gallus much to his embarrassment. Although a part of him kinda liked it. “Um, Silver?”
“Can I stay here tonight?” Silverstream asked, her eyes pleading. “With every creature here? I... I don’t want to sleep alone...”
The others look at each other and nodded. Yet for some reason they doubted they were going to get any sleep tonight.
It took a long time for everycreature to sleep, but they eventually did. Some like Ocellus and Silverstream slept with their arms wrapped around Sandbar and Gallus, two of whom didn’t mind if it helped their crushes get to sleep easier. Smolder took the longest to fall asleep as she spent the night silently thinking in her head all that she learned before finally closing her eyes. Yona was the first to sleep, but from the amount of movement she made told that it wasn’t a pretty dream.
When Dawn came, Ocellus was the first to wake up before noticing she was snuggling against Sandbar like a teddy bear. If it was possible to die of embarrassment, Ocellus would have just dropped dead right there. She managed to transform herself into a fly before turning back to escape. Realizing that the others wouldn't wake up for awhile, she decided to get everyone breakfast and left the room.
Very few students were up this early. In fact, save for Professor Applejack who was making breakfast in the cafeteria, there were only a few bat ponies who looked ready to hit the hay with night classes being over. “Mornin’ Ocellus. Had a nice night?”
“Not really,” Ocellus muttered as she looked at the options presented to her. Levitating some trays over to pick everycreature’s favorites. “It started off nice when I was at Helio-One and then I got caught in a battle between the Brotherhood of Steel and the NCR.”
Applejack tilted her head. “Helio-What? The Brotherhood of Who?”
Realizing her mistake, Ocellus nervously replied, “Oh! Um, sorry! Just this uh... new series I’m reading. I dreamed I was in it last night.”
“Oh, what’s it about?” Applejack asked, putting a bowl of apples on one of the trays.
“Um, it’s about the world coming to an end... and various groups try to rule it with different intentions,” Ocellus answered.
“Sounds mighty interestin’. What’s the series called?” Applejack asked, smiling.
“Um... The Wasteland?” Ocellus half lied.
“Ah’ll look into it. Need anythin’ else?” Applejack asked as Ocellus finished.
The changeling was about to say ‘no’ when she paused and asked a question. “Professor? Can I ask you a question? Do you think there are some places where friendship can’t work? That no amount of magic can help?”
Applejack pondered for a bit before sighing and answer, “Well, don’t tell Twilight this, Ocellus, but Ah’m kinda of a realist. Friendship can work in many ways. Yer kind and the dragons are proof of that. But Ah’ve met terrible creatures who just can’t change their ways nor will they ever. And there are some places Ah’ve been too that are just down right rotten. So maybe there are places where friendship can’t work out. But, Ah think what matters is tryin’ and taking the victories that ya can get. Ya can’t always win, but yer never gonna always lose either.”
“I see,” Ocellus replied, thinking a bit harder before nodding. “Thanks Professor Applejack.”
Applejack tilted her head as Ocellus walked away with her head deep in thought.
***
By the time Ocellus got back, everyone was awake and talking about their dreams last night. Ocellus had just answered as Silverstream and Sandbar were hugging a teary-eyed Yona. “... and mean Caeser man took Yona’s siblings and Yona do nothing. Yona watch home burn... Yona saw scary Legion humans come and... and... Yona woke up...”
“Hey, it was just a dream, Yona. They’re aren’t any Legion here and if they ever come here I’m sure the Princesses will send them back to that hellhole of a wasteland,” Sandbar said, comforting the sniffing yak.
“Yeah, and if they dare try to do the crap they pull on others here? I’ll burn them alive,” Smolder vowed, letting out a huff of dragon breath just to iterate.
Smiling softly, Yona hugged Silverstream and Sandbar. “Yak lucky to have great friends.”
Coughing into her hoof, Ocellus got everyone’s attention as she gave them their trays. “I got breakfast for everycreature. I bet you’re all hungry.”
“Starving,” Gallus said, biting into some toast. “You know, if there is one thing these stories of the wasteland are doing right. It’s making me value what we have in our world.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine a world where Equestria is a Wasteland from some super war,” Sandbar said, sipping some juice. “Still, should we continue? I mean, it can’t get any worse.”
“I think we can all agree that this world these humans live in is... how did Professor Dash put it once? BUBAR?” Gallus asked, rubbing his chin.
“Yeah, I can’t think of a way friendship can save a world like this... Not with things like Super Mutants, The Enclave, The Legion, and everyone just trying to kill themselves over land that’s pretty much dead,” Sandbar agreed.
“... I disagree,” Smolder replied, getting their attention. “We should learn all of this. We should learn everything.” “Why? I mean, we kind saw the worst thing ever in our lives just last night,” Silverstream pointed out, shivering. “I don’t want to see more people suffering.”
“I know but...” Smolder bit her lip and sighed. “Guys... when the narrator told us about Caesar... It reminded me a lot of dragon's back home.” The others were silent as their eyes widened. “Look, I know that I haven’t been as boisterous about dragons as Yona is about Yaks-”
“Because Yaks are best!”
“-but there is a reason for that,” Smolder took a moment to take a breath before continuing. “Most dragons would rather see other races bow down to them or hurt the if in means dominance. Heck, my brother even believes that once. He said that if he was the Dragon Lord instead of Ember he would have made all the ponies bow down to them or burn their homes down.”
“But you aren’t doing that! The dragons are trying to be friends with us!” Sandbar pointed out.
“Yeah, cause Ember is the Dragon Lord now. But what happens when she’s no longer the Dragon Lord? What if someone else becomes the Dragon Lord and decides to enslave everyone else or kill them for some bit of building an empire!” Smolder replied, shaking her head. “Power is everything to dragons. Strength is the foundation of our society. It’s survival of the fittest and I used to think that way, even when I came here, but meeting you guys and seeing... what power can do to others... I feel like I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Smolder closed her eyes as her friends looked at each other. Unsure of what to do. It was true that out of all the cultures they came from it was Smolder who came from the most brutal. The thought of the Dragons acting like Caesar's Legion painted a terrible future for them all if such a thing were to happen.
“So... what should we do?” Silverstream asked.
“I think... we need to see these videos. Just because its not happening now, doesn’t mean it can’t happen in the future. The future is never set in stone as my dad always says,” Smolder reasoned.
“...I guess we can watch a couple more,” Ocellus said, softly.
“Maybe there will be some good ones instead of horror ones,” Gallus suggested.
“Yak... kinda interested to learn.”
Sandbar saw that he was outnumbered and sighed. “Alright, I really don’t want too, but I see your point. Let’s at least get the rest of the Caesar one finished.”
(AN: Head to 6:20 to continue where they left off)
The group slowly nodded their heads and turned back to the sphere which had been at paused mode since last night. Setting it to play again, the narrator continued where he left off about how Caesar's hypocrisy knew no bounds as Legion soldiers armed themselves with guns and advanced weapons. For all his love and value of old time martialism and ethics, he was quite a lover of modern day weapons and gear. The Legion’s main advantage was their skill in hand to hand combat, something that they all preferred to fight under. Even using power gauntlets to crush the heads of their enemies.
The group nearly lost their breakfast upon seeing a set of burning tires that were the final resting place of those burned on the pyre. Blackened skeletons decorated it which only served a reminder of just how brutal the Legion was. Failure was punished by death and the executions were both slow and horrifying. Burning. Crucifixion. Even fighting to the death in gladiatorial combat. The punishments served as a reminder to the soldiers of what failure could bring and that it was better to die in combat then to return home in defeat.
“What a monster,” Silverstream said, shaking her head.
“Still, there is something to be said for his fear tactics if they make such a strong army,” Gallus pointed out. “I mean, he defeated and took over eighty-six tribes to build an empire. That’s a lot.”
Such brutal tactics did bring forth a mighty army that had crushed almost every foe it had come across. However, it eventually came to stand with the one force big enough and equally powerful enough to challenge them: The New California Republic.
The two nations clashed at the banks of the Colorado River at the site of Hoover Dam. It was here that the Legion face their first real defeat at the hands of the NCR and it’s Rangers. This brought a cheer to the others who quickly sided with the NCR. For all its problems, it was still a better choice then the slave nation the Legion had become.
The plan that lead to their defeat was a tactical masterstroke. After hours of heavy fighting, the NCR faked a retreat and lured the blindsided Legion to their doom at the abandoned Boulder City. While Caesar himself might have realized this was a trap, his soldiers were too high on their own bloodlust and upcoming victory to see the end coming. It also didn’t help that his highest ranking Legate was just as clueless as the rest of them. The students watched with wide eyes as the Legion was blown to bits thanks to explosions placed all over the city.
“Holy... that’s awesome!” Smolder shouted with awe.
“A bit overkill, but considering who fell before it I can’t feel any sympathy,” Ocellus replied.
The result was an NCR victory with them controlling Hoover Dam while the Legion was forced to retreat to the other side of the river to lick their wounds. Meanwhile, the Legate who lead the attack, Joshua Graham, was forced to face his punishment. He was one of Caesar's oldest friends, back when he was known as Edward Sallow, but this wasn’t enough to save him from his wraith. For the first time since it was formed, the Legion had known defeat. Their once streak of invincibility was now done.
The students watched as Graham was pushed near the edge of one of the biggest canyons they had ever seen as Legion soldiers with tanks on their backs with hoses aimed as the failed Legate. Suddenly, flames shot out of the hoses like the breath of a dragon. Silverstream and Ocellus screamed as they saw Joshua set a blaze before falling down what was known as the Grand Canyon.
“Oh my Celestia, he set him on fire!” Sandbar shouted in horror.
“Geeze, they can shoot out fire like dragons! Woah!” Smolder said in awe.
Yet to the shock of everyone, it turned out that Joshua Graham survived! Not only had been set aflame, thrown off a deepest cliff in the Wasteland, and survived the impact, but he also walked out to recover from his execution. A tall proud man wrapped in bandages all over his face stood over a park with a pair of pistols by his side, the sun beaming down on him like a miracle from heaven. The narrator went on to explain that rumors of his survival was one of the few things that scared Caesar in fear of his old friend coming to exact revenge.
“How the hay can anyone survive that?! He must be made of iron or something!” Gallus said in awe.
“Yona don’t think any yak could survive that,” Yona confessed. It was rare for her to say anything was better than a yak, but this time she couldn’t deny what she was seeing.
“At least he’s alive... but he must be suffering from all that pain,” Silverstream whispered, solemnly.
But Josha wasn’t the only fear Caesar had on his plate. He knows his army must continue to conquer if it is to survive. It produces little, and only takes what it can get while leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. However, the Legion is now stalled. It’s enemy equally waiting on the other side of the Hoover Dam. A final clash was coming to decide the fate of not only two nations, but the Wasteland as well.
Hoover Dam might mean nothing to the Legion, but in truth to Caesar it’s everything he’s been wanting. It’s the key to turning his vast horde of slave soldiers into the Empire he’s been dreaming of making for years. Until that final battle, Caesar does his best to weaken the NCR by sending in small troops and camps to the other side. Each with various missions to raid, attack, or cause chaos to weaken the NCR’s chances of winning in the big battle. The horrific attacks remind everyone that the Legion is eventually coming in full force.
The NCR isn’t just the enemy Caesar needs, but one he wants. To him, it will be the final testament to everything he’s been working so hard to achieve. If he cannot defeat the nation that is the opposite in everything he has built, then he has no right to rule as the next Emperor of the Wasteland.
“I think I speak for everyone when I say: Go NCR!” Sandbar shouted, which the others agreed with cheers of their own.
However, the Dam isn’t just the only key location Casear wishes to take on the Mojave. There’s another equally important jewel in the desert that he wishes to own. It’s a city he needs to make his new Rome, one that was bright and shining in the dark as the students saw a sign with towers in the background. A sign that said “Welcome to New Vegas.”
A place with walls to keep out the worst dangers. A safe area with security robots designed to protect its citizens. And plenty of vices and girls to entertain the fair folk.
“Woah...” Gallus said, turning red as half naked females began dancing rather.. Provaciably.
“Wow, that’s an interesting dance,” Silverstream said with interest.
“I think the word you are looking for is perverted. These females are whores!” Ocellus buzzed angrily.
It was home to those who lived in the city of New Vegas. However, the city already has a ruler. One who has been alive since before the Great War. A man who planned on living much longer if he plays his cards right.
“Tell me we’re not going to look more into this... this... den of sin and lust?” Ocellus grumbled as the five of them waited for Yona to come back from the bathroom. Gallus and Silverstream had decided to sit closer to the sphere to get a closer look at the upcoming chapter about New Vegas. For Silverstream, she wanted to just see the pretty lights and the excitement. For Gallus, well, a teenage boy is a teenage boy. The rest had stayed where they were with Ocellus blushing a storm while Sandbar was doing his best not to notice.
“Why not? Compared to the brutal stuff we saw with Caesar and his cronies, I think we can enjoy taking a look at a place of fun and excitement,” Gallus said, grinning.
“You just want to see the humans shake their naked rumps in your face,” Ocellus pointed out.
“Aren’t we all naked to begin with?” Silverstream pointed out. “Plus a lot of pony dances seem to involve shaking their tail areas.”
“Yes, but they have their tails down to hide their... their...” Ocellus was starting to turn completely red before shaking her head. “Why are we even talking about this?!”
“I don’t know, but I hope Yona comes back soon. I’m bored of waiting,” Smolder muttered, flicking her fingers across some crumbs. She didn’t have to wait long as Yona arrived with a relieved smile on her face. “Finally, now let’s start this already.”
The narrator started by saying how much wasn’t built anymore in the Wasteland, but before the Great War, it was a different story. The students watched as videos of factories and machine making robots were played before focusing on a new type of robot they hadn’t seen before. They had a tire wheel for legs and were built like soldiers with long arms and screens for faces. Each one showing a picture of a cartoon looking cop with a spinning antenna on top of the robot. They stood outside of a bright sign that said: “Welcome To The Strip”.
These robots were not built by the old companies like General Atomics, but by their rivals “RobCo” whose CEO and inventor was running New Vegas right now: Mr. Robert House.
“Wait a minute, that would mean the guy is over two-hundred and fifty-something years old!” Gallus shouted in disbelief. “Can humans live that long?”
“From what the narrator is saying, not really. I think this Robert House might be a one of a kind,” Sandbar said.
After quickly seeing a computer with Mr. House’s face on it, the screen showed a young man, who looked like the picture on the screen from earlier, watching gamblers in a bright red and back casino. With all the bright lights, clothing, and happy chatter it was clear that this was before the Great War. Robert House was indeed born before the Great War, but while he wasn’t the only one alive from that time, it was a mystery to this day how he survived it. Nobody had ever seen him or know what he looked like today. Was he a ghoul? A mutant? A robot? Or something else? There was a focus on a strange pod connecting to many machines with the narrator suggesting he used some advanced life support system to keep himself alive all these years, but nobody was sure of the true answer.
“Could you see yourself living that long?” Sandbar asked Ocellus.
“Hmm, maybe. It would give me time to learn a lot more than in a fifty-year lifespan,” Ocellus said with a shrug.
“Woah, changelings only live for fifty years?” Smolder said in awe as the others looked at Ocellus with wide eyes.
“Does this mean friend Ocellus grow old before us?” Yona asked. “Cause Yaks live up to hundred years!”
“Well, before we changed, only the Queen or King of the hive lived a near-immortal life. Changelings pretty much lived no more than fifty to sixty years. With our bodies now changed, we’re not sure how long we’re going to live now. It might be just the average pony age of eighty to ninety,” Ocellus said with a nervous smile.
“A hippogriff tends to live around a hundred and twenty years so you won’t be growing old on your own Yona!” Silverstream said as she and Yona nodded.
“Eh, Griffins go from seventy to a hundred. It varies,” Gallus shrugged as he gave his out.
“... a thousand years.”
Everyone paused and slowly turned to Smolder who had her knees hugging her chest as she tried to avoid their gaze. “Dragons... live typically between seven hundred to a thousand years... sometimes older...”
None of the others said anything as the mood suddenly got depressing. A realization that none of them realize until now began to echo in their minds. Smolder gave a nervous smile and laughed a bit. “W-well, it’s not going to mean anything in the long run. I mean, I don’t think that there is anything after death so... It’s not like... well...”
“How can you say that? The afterlife is-”
“How about we focus on the video for now and... Discuss this after?” Ocellus decided and everyone quickly nodded, putting their focus on the screen as Smolder sighed softly.
Their focus was now on House’s casino, The Lucky 38. Back then it was a popular gambling resort, now it was his fortress where nobody goes in or comes out; including Mr. House. Because he only communicated through computer screens, nobody was sure if he was human or not.
Yet while the House of today is a mystery, the House of the past is quite known. He was a popular flamboyant figure who mingled with the rich and famous in America from the movies to the military. He was born in 2020 back when New Vegas was called Las Vegas and had a proper upbringing by being raised by rich parents. Unfortunately, he got unlucky when he lost his parents and brother cheated him out of his parents' fortune.
“What a jerk!” Silverstream shouted, huffing. “I’d never do that to my little brother!”
“Yona want to smash cheater brother!”
Despite losing his parents and his money, House had something that couldn’t be stolen: his genius in engineering and business. At twenty-two, he formed RobCo, the top of the line robots company as shown by the robots being lined up for presentation to Gallus’ joy. House quickly regained his wealth and became even richer over time thanks to them. These robots were still working and wandering the Wasteland even today. They were built to be anything from a police officer to even a sexbot.
“A what?!” Ocellus shouted in horror as Smolder and Sandbar couldn’t help but laugh at the idea while struggling to keep air going through their lungs. “What kind of sick creature has sex with a machine?! HOW DO YOU HAVE SEX WITH A MACHINE?!”
“Yeah, I love robots but not that much,” Gallus agreed, shivering at the thought.
Outside of robots, RobCo was famous for building another invention: The PipBoy. It was a wrist device that acted like a mini-computer that was given to everyone inside the vaults. While they were most likely used by the Enclave to keep tabs on their experimental lab rats, the PipBoys were made to last and were quite useful too. More than one heroic wastelander had used them in their adventures.
There was also Liberty Prime, the big giant robot the East Coast Brotherhood of Steel used against the Enclave. House had been part of that project and was so proud of it he even had a portrait of him with his big creation.
“Hey, if he’s the brains behind that big bucket of awesomeness he’s okay in my books!” Gallus said with a thumbs up.
It turned out that Mr. House knew that The Great War was inevitable. War was coming and he wanted to not only survive its aftermath but save his beloved city as well. He used his vast wealth and contacts to turn the Lucky 38 into a military fortress capable of destroying or hacking the nuclear missiles that would come in close contact with the city. If that wasn’t enough, he built an army of securitrons, the robots from earlier, to keep law and order when the crisis was over.
“Wow, he loves his city, huh?” Sandbar said with a nod of approval.
“Yona do the same for Yakyakistan!” Yona declared stomping her hoof on the ground.
“I wonder why he couldn’t save more than just his hometown?” Silverstream asked.
“Maybe he didn’t have enough money or power to do it?” Gallus suggested.
While House was able to defend Las Vegas from the bombs, something must have gone wrong in his plans to rebuild the world. Because for two centuries he just stayed quiet in The Lucky 38 while all of Vegas fell into anarchy. The citizens stopped their gambling and rich lifestyles to fight one another for food, water, and territory. They became the barbarian tribes of New Vegas, each unique in their ways as they ignored the white ivory tower of Mr. House’s casino.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Some of the tribals engaged in an act that was barbaric even in the Wasteland: cannibalism.
“Oh, sweet Celestia!” Sandbar shouted as did the others in a similar fashion. They all turned away as they watched a humans tear up another human and began to eat them raw like a sack of meat. For those who didn’t eat meat, they felt their breakfasts coming up while even those who did look at such a thing with disgust and horror. Cannibalism was all but forbidden in every meat-eating culture. It was one thing to eat the flesh of another creature or animals, but your kind?
“Ugh, just like that serial killer a few years back in Griffinstone,” Gallus gagged as the scene soon ended. “The sick twisted griffin chopped up his victims and made them into a stew.”
“Just when you think we’ve seen the worst out of the Wasteland...” Silverstream groaned, shaking her head.
“I’m surprised we’re not all throwing up right now!” Sandbar pointed out.
“Yona close too. Very close,” Yona gulped as she turned a bit green.
“I think after seeing what the Legion was like its hardened our stomach,” Smolder said, shaking her head. “Even we dragons don’t eat our kind unless we’re very desperate or angry.”
If these Tribes had been further out west, they would have been destroyed by the NCR or the Brotherhood of Steel. If they were further out east, they would have been forced into joining the Legion. Fortunately, they were in the middle and maintained their twisted cultures for generations. The very town they lived in was dark for many years until NCR troops were spotted coming into the Nevada state. For Mr. House, this was the hope that civilization was returning once more and so he lit up New Vegas like a Hearth's Warming Eve tree to beacon all to come and enter.
While Mr. House did have a useful army of robot minions in his securitrons, he needed human hands to rebuild Vegas. The group watched as the robots surrounded tribal after tribal and forced them to surrender or be destroyed. While some did resist, they were filled with bullets a second later while many more lay down their arms and gave in. However, a few were mentioned by the narrator that they left for greener pastures.
The mood then changed to bright lights and a smooth sound as the six watched as humans in fancy clothes sat down at their tables drinking and eating actual good food. It was a major difference in what you normally see in the Wasteland. In front of the guests was a stage, bright and covered in glitter, where dancing male humans in suits began to tap dance on the stage together. The six found themselves interested in the dance routine with Sandbar even bobbing his head to the beat while Smolder snapped her fingers a few times with the rhythm.
The scene then changed to show a big room filled with card tables, craps tables, and slots with humans going back and forth to play them. Many of them were the same humans in fancy suits who seemed to be the owners of the casino. The narrator said that House turned them into the top entertainment side of Vegas reminiscent from his youth. He turned their spear throwing barbarian ways into the gutter and made them smooth-talking swingers who held the best show stage in all of New Vegas.
“Ohhh, sounds like a fun place to be!” Silverstream cheered with delight.
Of course, there was a different kind of entertainment that some wanted besides dancers, singers, and cards. Everycreature blushed as the scene changed to a different casino, one that was blood red with fluffy heart-shaped pillows everywhere. Three guys were cheering and tossing caps towards three bikini-clad women who were dancing rather exotically in front of them. Making sure their teats and rears were right up to the noses of the horny men. One was even dancing on a pole.
“Ah, now here is where the real fun begins,” Gallus said with a wide smile.
Ocellus growled before covering Sandbar’s eyes with her hoof. He turned around to question why, but a quick glare made him stop himself. It turned out House wasn’t afraid for a lower class of entertainment and action, so he turned a tribe of brutes into the owners known as the Omertas. This seedy group of gangsters gave every vice known from sex workers to chem pushing. They were disgusting, but it seemed like plenty were willing to pay to have their darkest desires come true.
Thankfully, where there was a low class there was also a high class. To the relief of everycreature (save Gallus), the change of scenery was a welcomed as they moved from a den of scum and villainy to a blue and oyster-white sparkle of wonder. Home to rich looking socialites dressed in the finest of clothing, with some of them, masked as if they were at a ball. It was like looking at the human version of a casino made for the grand elite of Canterlot. Everyone was in awe of how clean, polish and professional it looked. There was so much wonder and light it if Professor Rarity was watching she would all but demand to live there. Smolder focused on the dresses and masks. Secretly, she wished she had those to wear.
The White Glove Society was House’s biggest success with the tribes. He turned a monstrous gang of savages who did unspeakable acts into a high-class elite of wealth and manners. “Wow, if House can do that to these guys, what do you think he could do with creatures in our world? Like Diamond Dogs?” Sandbar asked. Everyone started thinking of a Diamond dog in a fancy suit and mask serving drinks and cards and just laughed at the idea.
What made the Ultra Lux stand out as a gem among the world of despair was its food. Mouthwatering fresh meats and vegetables were served in a grand ball dinner room where only the finest and richest could afford. Everyone’s mouth water at the sight of things like fresh salad and fried vegetables, smoked salmon with scallops, and big juicy steaks with onions.
“So... good....” Yona muttered, eyeing a warm squash pie.
The narrator continued to talk about all three casinos vying for House’s attention, but the six were too busy talking to one another to care.
“Okay, I’m settled. I think the Ultra Lux is the best!” Smolder said as he imagined herself in a beautiful dress, drinking tea while having a hot steak by her side.
“I agree, it looks like it's the most cultured!” Ocellus seconded.
“Yona like Tops! It bright and fun!”
“Oh, I do too! I’d love to get up there and sing or dance! And the lights are so pretty!” Silverstream said with her eyes glittering.
“Gamora for me baby,” Gallus said as everypony rolled their eyes. “What? I’m a guy, sue me.”
“This is why you’re never going to get a special somecreature in your life,” Ocellus said, shaking her head.
Regardless of which one was better, they all agreed that New Vegas was an oasis utopia in the wasteland. Which explained why both the NCR and the Legion were trying to take it from House. Both were expanding civilizations that needed to take over more land and resources to continue, and New Vegas was in the middle of it all. For now, House was in control, but with the war between the two nations brewing how long could that last?
“So three separate powers are trying to rule the one place that could make it or break it for their efforts to rebuild the world? While I don’t know who would be better, House or NCR, I think we can all agree the Legion should NOT be in control,” Sandbar said, which everyone nodded their heads in agreement. “Still, I don’t know how House is going to come up on top with both armies gunning for him.”
The narrator stated a similar agreement. House may have had his tribals, his securitorns, and a fortress of his own, but was it enough to take out two of the biggest armies in the wasteland? Or did House have an extra card up his sleeve to even the deck? Regardless of who had the advantage, it was clear that a lot of innocent blood was going to be lost in the battle for New Vegas. The Legion was willing to crush or enslave everyone in their way while its leader saw his soldiers as expendable tools built to serve and die for him. The NCR had slaughtered and annexed many in their expanding ‘noble’ efforts to bring democracy to the leaderless. And House was not afraid to use his robots to submit or eliminate any of the tribals who stood in his way for power.
“The way the narrator is talking it's like none of the sides are the good sides,” Smolder said, eyebrow raised.
“Are there any good sides in war?” Ocellus asked out loud.
While many were most likely destined to suffer, there has been no local tribe that has suffered more than The Great Khans. A focus on a rock bearing a strange graffiti showing a mustached warrior with a helmet glaring at the six who were a bit disturbed by the symbol.
Just like the NCR’s origins, they too were from the first vaults that opened and became one of the most infamous raiders in the wasteland. It was hard to feel sorry for a bunch of chem pushing murderers, but even they had a sad story of facing annihilation again and again. Yet, they always somehow survived.
“I think maybe we should talk about a few things before we progress further,” Ocellus said, turning the screen in front of them on pause. “It kinda sounds like we should get a few things out before we decide to continue or not.”
The others all agreed. Save for their eight hours of sleep last night they had done nothing but watch these videos about the horrors of the Wasteland. It was still unbelievable to think that such a nightmare even existed despite it being from another world. Sandbar was the first to speak as he shook his head. “I think we can all agree that this world is beyond saving with friendship. That might not be what Professor Twilight wants to hear, but I can’t think of anything to help these humans.”
“I honestly feel bad for them,” Silversteam muttered, looking downward in near tears. “They had everything ripped from them and destroyed; forcing them to survive in the worst conditions against such horrible things like the Super Mutants or the Legion. Even if they did cause this to happen to themselves, I still wish they could be helped.”
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Smolder asked, leaning back against the wall. “If such a thing could happen in our world.”
“I can’t see it,” Sandbar said, shaking his head. “Equestria is a land of peace and harmony. Sure, we’re willing to defend ourselves but we don’t blow up other creatures to oblivion and ruin their lives for greedy reasons.”
“Sure, but what about in the future?” Smolder pointed out. “Every nation has gone through its problems. I mean, Ocellus just told us there was a time when you were persecuting bat ponies.” Sandbar closed his eyes in remembering that while Ocellus looked down in shame for having exposed that. “Who's to say that Equestria won’t go through some kind of disaster or change in leadership that will make it go a dark path? Even the Princesses won’t always rule forever. Or they could get corrupted like Luna did. I’m just saying that nothing is ever certain in the future. Look at the dragons? Biggest Empire in the world that lasted for thousands of years and then it crumbles.”
“Friend Smolder making it sound like humans and dragons similar,” Yona pointed out.
“Yeah, I kinda do see a lot of similarities between us,” Smolder said, shrugging her shoulders. “To lose so much and keep going despite all the hardship? Definitely dragon levels of respect. I like them.”
“I guess all we can say about humans is that they are just too complex to understand,” Ocellus said, writing down on her notes. “But our report is supposed to be how friendship can save this world. Surely, there has to be something that could be done.”
“Wiping out the Legion, Vault-Tec, and The Enclave sounds like a start,” Gallus muttered to which no creature disagreed with him. “Say what you will about Chrysalis, Cozy Glow, Tirek, and the rest, they got nothing on those guys.”
“I don’t think even the Princesses would find mercy for them,” Sandbar admitted, as deep down he wanted to buck them all in the face earth pony style.
“Still, there are good forces at work,” Ocellus pointed out. “The Followers are helping people. There was the Vault Dweller and The Chosen One who saved the Wasteland. And the NCR seems like the most reasonable faction out there.”
“Ocellus remember they take over lands they don't own, right?” Yona questioned, frowning. “Yak no like that part.”
“It does sound like there is corruption in the ranks of the NCR,” Ocellus agreed, writing more in her notes. “But aside from the Legion and Enclave, who clearly are evil, who else is there that could bring peace to the Wasteland?”
“The Brotherhood of Steel could do it if they were more like the Eastern Branch then the Western Branch,” Gallus said. He still wished he could have a power armor suit like that but could fly. “Maybe with the Western Branch in such a disarray the Eastern Branch could talk over and help things out like they are doing at the capitol?”
“There is also Mr. House,” Silverstream said, lighting up. “He seems like he wants to make things progress better. He made New Vegas, and saved a lot of people.”
“I don’t know,” Smolder said, folding her arms. “He seems a lot more like a dictator who manipulates everything in the shadows. Not to mention he hasn’t really done anything for others save for New Vegas itself.”
“I wish this place had their own Elements of Harmony. Heroes who could inspire others to do the same and make the world a better place,” Sandbar whispered. “Maybe if they had something like that, a group of heroic figures to lead them, they could change for the better.”
“Like the Vault Dweller and Chosen One? They saved the Wasteland,” Silverstream pointed out.
“Yeah, but they never really led people as far as we know,” Sandbar said, shaking his head. “Maybe we’ll find someone or some group later, but I think what they are really lacking is a savior.”
The others slowly looked at each other and agreed. It was clear that while there were good forces out there that were helping the Wasteland it didn’t seem to be enough. They needed more good people doing the right thing to make the world a better place even if it was a living hell. But could such a thing even be possible? Two heroes had come and still things seemed so bad. A nation of slavery and genocide. Monsters made of nightmares. Land that couldn’t be lived on with poisoned water. Greedy and murderous gangs and individuals who would do anything to survive. It was something only a miracle could fix.
“Well, enough about the Wasteland,” Silverstream said before floating over to an eyebrow raised Smolder. “Do you...want to talk about it?”
“About what?” Smolder asked.
“About how you are going to still be kicking a hundred or so years while the rest of us are pushing up daisies in our graves?” Gallus pointed out, seeing no point in beating around the bush. “I mean, I can understand if your feeling-”
“Guys, I’m fine,” Smolder said, shaking her head. “Look, I’ve had this conversation with my parents and even with Princess Twilight. When it became clear...that I was going to outlive you guys, especially when I was growing fond of you, I had to accept that one day you’ll be gone and I’ll still be around.”
“But... it's so sad,” Silverstream whispered, hugging her. “I don’t want to leave you here alone. I mean, there is the afterlife, but-”
“Silverstream, I don’t believe in an afterlife,” Smolder said, rolling her eyes as the others stared at her. “Dragons don’t have religion in their society. We don’t worship gods or goddesses. We don’t think there is some paradice when you die. Just nothing. You die and you're done. Game over. If we did believe in that stuff we gave it up a long time ago after our previous civilization failed. Where were the gods then when we needed them most? Nowhere.”
“Woah, so you’re all atheists?” Ocellus asked, writing it down. “I...I just assumed you were just unique.”
“Yona don't understand? How could one not believe in gods? Gods created everything and showed themselves in the world around us,” the yak asked, scratching his head.
“Some creatures don’t think the gods are real either because they don’t have enough proof to see them or they think that there are other ways to explain everything around them,” Gallus answered. “I mean, Griffins aren’t the most religious either but we still pray to Grandus and believe in him.”
“Fausticorn for us ponies,” Sandbar said, smiling
“Yak has many gods,” Yona proudly stated.
“And we worship the gods of the sea and air who made the world! Aeroda and Aquada!” Silverstream proclaimed.
“Changelings don’t believe in gods, but we do believe that we reincarnate after death. That way life never really ends,” Ocellus said.
“See, so many different beliefs, but they can’t all be right! One of them is either right or they’re all wrong!” Smolder said.
“Actually, most faiths accept the other gods in some form or another,” Sandbar said, raising his hoof. “That each of them all played a role in creating the world and then created us all in their own image.”
“Well, I don’t believe it’s real. Again, if gods were real then they’d be helping us dragons. Or at least whatever god for the humans exist would be helping them,” Smolder pointed out, but shook her head. “But listen. I’m fine guys, really. I’ve long accepted that I’ll outlive you all. If there is something after living that we can continue to be together then I’ll be happy...but for now I just want to make the most memories with you guys so that when you are gone...I’ll at least have that with me for the rest of my life.”
Spotting a tear dripping down Smolder’s eyes, Sandbar got up and hugged his scaly friend and soon the rest of them all did too. “Hey, let’s make a promise,” Sandbar said, ending the hug. “When one of us...passes on, we’ll come say our goodbyes and talk about all the good times we had. We’ll laugh, cry and smile despite the situation. Because I don’t want my friends to be sad at my funeral, I want them to smile knowing I’m at peace.”
“Kinda weird to be smiling at a funeral, but eh, I’m in,” Gallus said as everyone also agreed.
‘What about me? I’ll be the last one once you all kick the bucket,” Smolder said, pointing to herself. “And I have no intention of ending my life. I’ll miss you guys, but not that much.”
“Then I guess whatever friends you make after us will just have to do it for you,” Silverstream said.
“Other friends?”
“Yeah, I mean, you don’t want to be alone forever, right?” Ocellus.
“Yona not want Smolder to feel lonely after she passes on! Find new friends to be happy! We don’t mind!”
Smolder had never thought about having other friends then the ones she had in front of her right now. Then again, did she really want to just be a lonely dragon like so many in her homeland. No, I guess there is nothing wrong with finding new friends.
“Alright, but by the off chance I die first, none of you are getting my gem collection. That goes with me to my grave,” Smolder joked as the others nodded in agreement. They were about to sit down again when Silverstream held Smolder up a bit.
“Look...I know you don’t believe...but I do...and I want you to know that I think there is a heaven for dragons too,” Silverstream said, smiling.
“I find it hard to think some angel hanging out at the pearl gates is going to let my kind in due to all the greed and destruction we’ve done in the past,” Smolder snorted.
“Then try to be the first! You’d look so cute with angel wings and a halo! Oh, and a harp!” Silverstream said, sweetly.
Smolder thought of the image in her head and shivered. “Yeah, no. I think I’ll take oblivion over that.”
“Hey! You guys ready for the next one?!”
‘“Coming!” both girls said as they sat down as the screen played again.
After their talk, the group took a moment to refresh themselves by heading back to their dorm rooms and using the bathroom for their morning needs. Once they were clean and relieved, they returned back to the orb for the next chapter in learning of the Wasteland.
The narrator began by explaining that various settlers would often try to rebuild civilization by finding or building homes to settle down. They slept peacefully in the comfort of their homes knowing they were safe from the beasts and weather. However, that didn’t mean they were protected from everything. Just by seeing the humans in leather jackets with a mustached human, wearing a horned helmet, and chains circling around it, the group could tell they were here to cause trouble. Maybe it was the fact that they were armed for an attack or maybe it was the strange hair, tattoos, and piercings that decorated their bodies.
Or maybe it was the fact they were sneaking around like thieves in the night.
While some settled to crow crops or trade the narrator explained that some survived by taking what they wanted using any means necessary. Thus was the lifestyle of a raider. Survive by taking what you wanted with the strength that you had.
The narrator showed another set of raiders, one that made the others sickened to look at. They were wearing bones and leather armor while surrounded by a fire in the middle of a ruined building. The look in their eyes showed that they were mad and the blood-covered weapons around them indicated what their profession was.
“Do you guys have raiders in your homes? I mean, we get some outlaw gangs down south or mafia groups in the cities, but nothing like this,” Sandbar asked his friends.
“I hate to say it, but the griffin lands have a long history of raiding. We used to raid a lot of nations, including Equestria. Some of them still do so, but most griffins don’t care much to do anything about it unless it affects them,” Gallus explained.
“We only raid when we’re at war,” Smolder said, shrugging. “It’s a popular tactic. Scorch the earth. Take what you can. Leave no survivors.”
“Changelings rarely ever did raids,” Ocellus replied, shaking her head. “It wasn’t our style. We preferred things quiet and without notice. The Invasion of Canterlot was the first of its kind.”
“We had to deal with the Storm King’s raids during his invasion. It wasn’t until we went underwater that we managed to finally have safety,” Silverstream answered.
“Yaks raid enemies. Smash all stuff and take what we want for our people!” Yona said, proudly. “Will not smash innocents though. Only bad yaks or ponies or dragons or whatever.”
“So I guess that’s one thing we all have in common with the Wasteland,” Sandbar said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Wish it was something more positive.”
However, the way the narrator went on about them, it seemed that half the wasteland seemed to be full of them. The Fiends. The Jackals. The Yakuza. All dressed the part of their respective clan's name to be a theatrical nightmare of suffering for the locals. The good thing was that most of the raider gangs didn’t last very long as evidenced by one surrounded by what appeared by inhalers and needles. A warped look was on his face as drool dripped out of his mouth and blood off of his nose. You didn’t need to be a doctor to tell that this guy was dead.
Be it by infighting, overdose, or some group of more powerful survivors there was an absolute certainty you weren’t going to live to your old age years if you were a raider. However, despite this, some raider gangs have managed to live for generations. And the longest of them was the Khans.
The name came from a group of warriors from Mongolia who lived hundreds of years ago as shown on the screen of an old painting showing a group of armored humans wielding spears riding off into battle. “I’m still uncomfortable with the fact that my kind are unintelligent beasts that get used as labor by these humans,” Sandbar whined. “I can’t imagine being one.”
“Well, if you were you’d most likely be dead considering the horses are all gone by now in the wasteland,” Gallus pointed out.
Led by Genghis Khan, The Khans were some of the toughest warriors in human history. They even came close to taking over the entire world once. Farther than any other human army in their history. Even a thousand years later, their names were still known in the Wasteland. Not helped by the gang that took their name despite having no relations to them. They came out of Vault 15 along with other future gangs and the ones who set up Shady Sands which would become the foundation of the future NCR.
“Vault 15 seems to be where everything started for a lot of people,” Ocellus said, writing down her notes.
While the residents who created Shady Sands were focused on rebuilding society and surviving against the Wasteland others liked the way it was. Survival of the fittest. One such gang was called The Vipers and they appeared on screen looking like the vicious killers that they were and armed to the teeth. They were crazies who worshiped snakes for some reason but were such a dangerous threat that they even managed to kill a High Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel.
“I thought we were learning about the Great Khans?” Smolder asked, scratching her head. “How many raiding gangs are there?”
Still, despite the dangerous outlaws the Vipers were they were still nothing compared to the Khans according to the narrator. The first group of Khans they saw earlier were now inside the home of a young couple. Holding them hostage, they began to loot the place while taking whatever looked valuable.
“What a bunch of jerks!” Silverstream said, puffing her cheeks out. “It’s bad enough that the wasteland is such a dangerous place but to do something as horrible as this?!”
“And here I was feeling a bit sorry for all those raiders that Caesar guy wiped out while building his legion,” Gallus snorted.
The Khans valued only one thing in life: Strength. They knew that the world had changed to the point where only the strong would survive and the weak would die. For years, they were a dangerous threat in Arizona and California. Stealing. Murdering. Burning. Everything you could think of they did to survive under the leadership of the one they called Death Hand.
“Death Hand?” Smolder said, snorting before laughing. “Wow, that’s so cheesy.”
Under Death Hand’s guidance, the Khans managed to survive in a time where raider gangs lasted only a few years at most. He even managed to grow old despite his scars and old wounds. That was until his son, Garl, defeated him in combat to the death and took his place as the new “Death Hand”
“He killed his own father?! Just to become head of the gang?!” Sandbar asked as everyone but Smolder looked shocked. The pony noticed this and sighed. “Let me guess. Similar to dragon culture?”
“Very much,” Smolder admitted, nodding her head. “They guys sound very much like dragons. Just give them scales, tails, wings, horns, and fire breath and they are a mirror image.”
“Ember didn’t really kill her father to become Dragon Lord. Did she?” Silverstream asked, biting her nails.
“Nah. A Dragon Lord can be challenged every 300 years for their position and it is to the death, but that hasn’t happened in a long time,” Smolder said. “Remember what I said earlier about how strength is the most important thing for a dragon? It's the same mindset as these guys. I mean, it wasn’t until Ember that dragons started changing to get along with your races. Before that, well, chances are they’d be attacking your lands for jewels or something.”
“Think the Great Khans changed as well?” Ocellus asked.
“Guess we’ll see,” Gallus answered as he turned the screen back on.
It was under Garl that the Khans would go on to raid Shady Sands and become their number one enemy for years. While most saw Garl as just a bloodthirsty bully, others believed he was looking for a worthy foe to test his might again. He would get his chance when the famous Vault Dweller made his first stop in Shady Sands in his west to save his home.
It began with the kidnapping of the Mayor’s daughter, who would become the future president of the NCR, Tandy. The group watched as a young man in a Vault 13 suit with padded leather armor arrived at their campsite demanding Tandy’s release. The Khans had charged upon Garl’s orders believing he had found his worthy foe, but in truth the Khans were nothing compared to the skills of the Vault Dweller. Before the student six could realize what was going on, the Khans all laid dead with the Vault Dweller not having a scratch on him. The Khans were the first threat the legendary hero would face in his great quest, but they were hardly worth even talking about even in the Dweller’s memoirs.
“Ha! Talk about irony!” Gallus laughed, holding his sides. “These guys thought they were the baddest flank-kickers around and they got their butts handed to them by a guy who didn’t even think twice about them! Gahahaha!”
“If you ask me those guys deserve it,” Silverstream said, smirking.
“But Yona not understand something. How did Khans continue if they all dead?”
It turned out that the Vault Dweller didn’t manage to kill all of the Khans. One had managed to survive: a young boy by the name of Darion. Darion had hidden in cowardice while all his fellow Khans were slaughtered. Angry at himself, he tried to atone for his actions by starting a new gang: The New Khans. He rebuilt the legacy of the Khans from the ground up with his gifted leadership and intelligence. He might not have been the strongest, but even the smartest can survive without super brawl abilities as shown with him leading the New Khans in a shootout against NCR troops.
For 80 years, he waged war against President Tandy and the NCR. Perhaps he blamed her for his original gang's death? Or maybe he just saw a target ripe for the picking. Regardless, Darion made the old Khans look like wimps compared to his New Khans. They even managed to gain control of Vault 15 and had access to all its advanced technology.
That was one insult too many for President Tandy and so she sent someone to take care of the New Khans once and for all. Just like before, this individual was able to shoot down the New Khans with such skill it was like Deja Vu. Because by fate or luck, the one that Tandy had sent was the descent of the Vault Dweller: The Chosen One.
“Wait, you’re telling me that the descendant of the original destroyer of the Khans also went toe to toe with New Khans?” Sandbar said with awe. “That’s like something out of a comic book!”
“You have to admit that the odds of such a thing are super unlikely,” Ocellus said, quickly doing the math in her head. “Maybe destiny did play a role in all this?”
“Well, they are a chosen one. So maybe whatever divine powers are left in this world had a hand in it?” Silverstream pointed out
“Shhh! Yak watching bad guys get beaten,” Yona whispered as she watched another New Khan fall to the might of the Chosen One. Strangely enough, they couldn’t tell if the Chosen One was a male or a female.
After going through waves of enemies, The Chosen One stood face to face with Darion who was now an old and crazy man. He was wielding one of those weapons that shot out fire which the six remembered burning Joshua Graham from earlier. Still, even with his crazed state he went down with such a fight that the narrator said he would have made the old Khans proud of how he died.
Despite Darion dying, there were still survivors of the gang who managed to be far enough away from the fighting. These small groups walked through the wasteland together with the biggest being led by Papa Khan, a big man with a small horned helmet on his head, and took the name Great Khans to honor their heritage. Years later, Papa Khan guided his people to the ruins of New Vegas, but at a time long before Robert House used his robots to take over.
Even though New Vegas was surrounded by hardened tribals and raider gangs, the Great Khans saw it as their new home. It was the right place for them to settle and stay strong while rebooting their ranks. For a few good years, the Great Khans had everything going for them until Robert House unleashed his securitons to civilize the tribals into the Three Families seen today. The Khans, however, refused to be part of this change and so the six watched as they were forced out of Vegas by the robots. To make things worse, the NCR was making its way east and they had still not forgotten, nor forgiven, the Khans for their past actions.
“You know, I kinda feel bad for them,” Smolder said, crossing her arms as the others looked at her. “Don’t get me wrong. I think they’re bad guys for sure. But to be always kicked out of your home with the threat of being destroyed? It’s almost similar for some dragon clans back home.”
Knowing that it was suicide to go against two armies, the Great Khans left Vegas which managed to get Mr. House to stop caring about them. However, they still fought against the NCR when they started appearing in the Mojave to annex it. Some grudges were just too deep to let go.
Still, some saw the Great Khans as victims of the NCR. After all, they had become ruthless in their efforts to take control over more land for their ever-increasing nation. To some, the Great Khans were trying to live in peace even if they were a raider gang. Others believed the Great Khans brought it on themselves by attacking the NCR over old grudges of those long dead. Regardless, the one thing everyone agreed on was that they hated each other's guts. They fought with brutality and without mercy towards either side.
The NCR eventually did manage to win a battle that nearly crippled the Great Khans at Bitter Springs. The six watched as NCR Troops and Rangers tactically took down squads of Great Khans who fought tooth and nail to defend their home. Some even were fighting despite how much blood they lost.
“You ever wonder if our races would be like this if things didn’t work out?” Sandbar asked Ocellus who blushed upon seeing him staring at her.
“I...I guess they would. Chrysalis wasn’t going to stop until all ponies were enslaved or dead,” Ocellus whispered, rubbing her hooves. “I’m glad we aren’t enemies though. I’m glad we're friends.”
“Yeah, me too,” Sandbar said smiling with a light blush on his face.
“If you two are done flirting can we get back to the fight?” Gallus teased which made the two blush and turn away in an instant.
The Battle of Bitter Springs, however, had a different name to the people of the Mojave which would paint a dark picture upon the NCR: The Bitter Springs Massacre. The name alone made the six’s eyes widen as a bad feeling came over them like a cold breeze.
NCR intel had determined that Bitter Springs was the Great Khans hideout. While the Khans fighters took to the front, they began to evacuate the camp's children and elderly towards the back using a secret passage they knew. Or so they thought.
The NCR First Recon had learned of the passage and openly fired on what they believed was a Great Khan ambush on their men. By the time they learned who they were really shooting it was too late.
“Oh no...” Silverstream whispered as she realized what had happened. Everyone was silent in horror as the prospect of what the narrator later confirmed to be true. The women who didn’t fight, the elderly, and their children and grandchildren were mostly killed in the ambush. “Those poor innocent people...”
“Not even the Khans deserved that...” Gallus muttered, lowering his head.
“...Yona not sure she like NCR anymore.”
“Me too...” Sandbar whispered, shedding a tear.
Various people tell different stories of what happened that day. Bad intel? Miscommunication? Or was it done on purpose for the sake of genocide? Many soldiers that day left the NCR, including two men in red berets who were drinking heavily in front of a fire that was next to a giant dinosaur statue. Those who left would forever be haunted by the day they pulled the trigger in that battle.
The Great Khans had never forgiven the NCR for what happened at Bitter Springs and now stand close to the edge of destruction. The ones that survived, or didn't leave the gang, went west to Red Rock Canyon to escape the NCR and New Vegas. Despite their new safety, they were wounded and near beaten. No longer able to survive like they used to, the Great Khans were forced to become chem dealers and sell them to others just to make ends meet. They even have started to accept deals with Caesar just so they can have their revenge one day.
“Wait, they’re going to try and work with Caesar? Don’t they know he forces the raiders to join his army or be destroyed?” Silverstream pointed out.
“Yeah, and some of those Great Khans fighting were women. Guess they don’t know what they’ll get in store for them if they join the Legion,” Gallus said, shaking his head. “I can’t tell if this alliance is being made out of stupidity, ignorance, or desperation. Or all three.”
The narrator agreed with Gallus as he called Papa Khan’s desire for revenge a fool's hope, but it might be all the Great Khans have left after losing so much. Focusing on Papa Khan, who looked proud and yet burdened, the narrator said that while the Khans had lost much they weren’t the worst of the lot. That mostly belonged to those whose skin had rotted away. Those who couldn’t be called human anymore.
Ocellus shivered upon learning they were going to be learning about ghouls next. While she felt sorry for their circumstances, the changeling was still creeped out by how undead they looked. She used to hear horrible stories about necromancers raising zombies from the dead and causing destruction upon innocent villages and hives when she was younger. Seeing the ghouls reminded her a lot about those stories, especially the feral ones.
At least being killed by the nuclear bomb, according to the narrator, was instant death. Your entire skin and bones turned to ash, and nothing remained once you were caught in the blast. It might have been a painful way to go, but at least it was quick. Better than suffering the side effects of surviving such a destructive force. The sight of dead human bodies, killed by radiation, or smoking from the explosion itself was enough to nearly make the six sick.
“I still can’t believe they used these at all,” Silverstream said, shaking her head.
“You and me both,” Sandbar commented.
A ghoul in rags appeared on the screen, just relaxing in some abandoned marketplace. The narrator explained the sad and horrible fact that most humans killed ghouls on sight. Mostly out of fear due to their looks. But they weren’t zombies or monsters, but plain humans like them transformed into something hideous. Even these days, it was still common to find people fearful of ghouls even after widespread knowledge. However, that didn’t mean that there wasn't a dangerous kind of ghoul out there, as shown by one of the more hideous ones clawing around like an animal. They called them feral ghouls, and it was the eventual fate of all ghouls to turn into these rabid beasts that would attack anything around them.
Because of this unknown ticking time bomb, most folks were just fine with shooting first and asking questions later. It was better in their minds to be alive and called a bigot than to be eaten apart for dinner.
“If there really is no avoiding that fate? I’d rather end my own life, thank you,” Smolder said, crossing her arms.
“But they still don’t know why they turn into them?” Sandbar asked, upon hearing the narrator. “Hmm, what do you think causes it?”
“Don’t ask me, I’m not a scientist,” Gallus snorted before turning to Ocellus.
“Hey, I can’t make any theories either,” Ocellus said, shrugging. “I don’t even know half of what this radiation stuff is like. Plus, I would need to know the full physiology of a human being.”
It would seem that not even the most advanced scientists of the Wasteland knew the answer either. Despite years of trying to figure it out, all they had were theories. One common idea was that since areas holding the FEV virus were hit during the Great War and released into the atmosphere, the small scattered amounts of it might have caused certain people to turn into ghouls. After all, it was full exposure that turned humans into Super Mutants. So why not a limited dose turning them into ghouls?
Then there was the gene theory, as evidenced by some Enclave scientists taking samples from a ghoul prisoner. Add just the right amount of radiation to a human with a particular gene, and they could maybe turn them into a ghoul.
“Or maybe they just got plain bad luck,” Gallus said, shrugging. “Not really sure why it matters. You’d think the most important thing would be to cure it.”
“Finding out the cause of a problem is one of the main necessities to solve a problem, Gallus,” Ocellus said, rolling her eyes. “Like the reason you get hit a lot is because you don’t know when to shut your mouth sometimes.”
Gallus opened his mouth, but the then paused and shrugged. "Eh, fine. I'll give you that one."
“Oh, look! Another vault!” Yona said, getting their attention. “This good vault or bad vault?”
“My money is bad,” Smolder said. She turned out to be right when the narrator said that Vault 12 was specifically designed to have its front door malfunction and expose the residents to radiation. “Told ya.”
Due to the vault not fully closing all the way, the residents were unable to fully protect themselves from the radiation when the bombs fell. Just enough of it was able to get through and turn the entire residence into an underground bunker full of ghouls who were horrified by their new looks. Considering VaultTech’s history of manipulating and sabotaging the vaults for their experiments, it wouldn’t be far-fetched that the door was disabled on purpose. Another experiment to see how humans reacted when exposed to certain levels of radiation.
“Just when you think VaultTech can’t get any lower,” Sandbar grumbled, shaking his head.
“Yeah, if the end of the world ever comes to our planet? And some group is advocating safe houses like these? I’m going to take my chance outside,” Smolder said.
“I wonder if this means that VaultTech knew about ghoulification before the war?” Silverstream asked, tilting her head. “I mean, what are the odds that shutting the door just enough to expose around a thousand people to radiation manages to turn them all into ghouls instead of having them...well...die?”
The others began to wonder that as well. It did seem kind of odd when Silverstream put it that way.
Regardless of what happened, the ghouls of Vault 12 were able to use their technology to build a suitable home for themselves. They didn’t have to worry about radiation thanks to their new state, and the tech from the vault allowed them to prosper without fear of going hungry or thirsty. Plus, their new looks managed to keep most of the scary outsiders away who were too frightened to deal with the zombified humans.
The six did get a chuckle upon hearing they named the city “Necropolis.”
For around a hundred years, things were good for them. Plus, a ghoul stopped aging upon being turned. There were still plenty of ghouls who were around before the Great War and still kicking today. The only downside was they couldn't have children, just like the Super Mutants.
“Huh,” Yona said, eyes widened. “If true, humans should have Ghoul Humans act as sages and teachers. Use the knowledge of the past to lead them to avoid the same mistakes.”
Unfortunately, the peace ended as the ghouls started to get killed off when The Master unleashed his Super Mutant army on them. The screen showed a fight between the giant green monsters and the ghouls who did everything they could to defend their home, but they were no match for their superior strength and tactics. They had come to find a vault filled with unmutated humans with good genes to use to strengthen their army. Instead, they found an entire city of ghouls.
“Bad luck for both sides,” Gallus said. “Super Mutants don’t get pure human DNA, and the ghouls get taken over by the big green booger beasts. Sucks for both sides.”
"I feel more sorry for the ghouls," Silverstream voiced.
Despite having a small truce for a few years, the Super Mutants betrayed them in the end and killed most of the population. The few survivors left for other settlements that didn’t treat them too kindly or outright refused to let them in. They were forced to wander the Wastelands for a new home. There were some safe havens like Broken Hills, which allowed humans, ghouls, and (later on) Super Mutants to live together in peace. Others looked for heavily radiated areas to set up new homes to avoid humans altogether. They were immune to it now, and it even strengthened them. Turning some into glowing versions of themselves, which reminded the six of Hearth's Warming Eve lights.
The screen then showed a bunch of ghouls in lab coats working on a broken nuclear reactor. Dangerous for most to enter, save for them. They were able to get it mostly working and provided power to the nearby settlements in exchange for supplies, including the advanced medicine of Vault City. It was their hope their advanced medicine and technology could be used to try and find a cure for their condition.
“Think they can be cured?” Gallus asked.
“It’s never too late to try,” Sandbar said, optimistically.
Sadly, there was still no cure for ghouls despite some trying their hardest to find one. This leads some shady people to take advantage of the desperate ones with fake miracles. Or give them something else to save their souls instead, such as religion. A ghoul preacher gave a sermon to his robed followers about how he would take them to a utopia space paradise...if they could get their spaceships prepared.
“Ignoring the obvious crazy cult thing, I’d like to go to space,” Ocellus said with a smile.
“Ohh! Yona would like to taste moon cheese!” Yona said, licking her lips.
“Uh, Yona? The moon isn’t made out of cheese,” Sandbar pointed out, before rubbing his chin. “Although, that would explain how Princess Luna managed to not starve to death up there for a thousand years.”
Yona gasped in horror. “Moon not made out of cheese?! Noooo! Clan Storytellers lied to Yona!” She stared, bonking her head on the floor while sobbing.
“Oh, Yona,” Silverstream said, patting her friend on the back. “It’s okay. We can always use the spaceship to fly towards other areas! Like we can see Pluto! I’ve always loved that planet!”
“Um, Silverstream,” Ocellus chuckled, nervously. “Pluto is no longer considered a planet.”
“What?!” Silverstream shouted with her eyes widened. “Since when?!”
“A few years now, I think,” Ocellus said. “So officially, there are only eight planets in our system now.”
“Nooo! Pluto was so cute! He was my favorite! Damn you, science!” Silverstream cried as he began to sob with Yona. The two holding each other as their dreams were crushed.
The other four just raised an eyebrow before deciding to ignore the two and refocus on the screen. They did so just as the narrator told them how a group of ghouls was tricked by a so-called genius who could cure their condition if he was given cheese flavor snacks. “Geez, now I’m hungry for cheese,” Gallus muttered, which only caused Yona to cry harder.
Most ghoul settlements were rare these days due to many factions not liking them, such as the Enclave or the Brotherhood of Steel. Another negative that the group sadly had to put under the latter. Anything non-human in their eyes was something to be exterminated or treated like an animal. Still, there were safe havens such as “The Underground” in Washington DC, where a ghoul lady, born before the war, did her best to protect her people while helping new ghouls along the way. It didn’t happen often, but it was still possible to turn into a ghoul even in this day and age if you spent too much time in a radioactive area.
Still, there were other ways to turn into ghouls. The FEV had managed to turn humans into ghouls at times. Others ended up having psychic power or other alterations to their bodies or minds. The truth was that it was unknown what your genetic mutation would be when you were exposed to these dangerous environments. Some turned out to be ghouls but with a few differences, and some made themselves essential in many ways. One joined the Followers of the Apocalypse as a founding member early on and could still be living with them today.
Another one claimed to be one of the first to wander the Wasteland not long after the war ended. This ghoul, Harold, claimed that he had seen every critical event from knowing the Master when he was human to meeting and even aiding heroes like the Vault Dweller and Chosen One. While nobody could confirm or deny his proclamations, some people remembered him during those events. These days he is now a tree in Washington DC that was worshiped as a tree god by some cultists. It was all due to a twig growing in his head that grew and began to take over most of his body.
“He looks more tree than ghoul,” Ocellus said, leaning back upon seeing Harold’s new look.
Sadly, Harold's condition ended his wandering, but strange things began happening when he rooted down, so to speak. The forests began to look healthier and fresh fruit was growing both from him and the surrounding plants. He slowly began to gather a group of cultists who saw him as a forest god, slowly bringing the earth back to its natural healthy way.
"I don't know," Sandbar said, shifting around. "Much as I like the idea I was helping cure the earth, being a tree and worshiped as a god would be pretty weird."
"I think Professor Fluttershy said she wanted to be a tree once," Silverstream said.
"Yeah, being a tree is nice and all until someone cuts you down, puts you into a wood chipper, and suddenly your remains are used as toilet paper," Gallus snorted.
Still, despite his condition, Harold was glad for the company. Plus, it was suspected that Harold’s seeds were coughing the vegetation to be pure and healthy to eat. Maybe he wasn’t a tree god like some believed, but he was doing a miracle for the earth.
However, while Harold traveled and saw a lot in the Wasteland, one place he avoided was the Mojave. Some areas there were said to be the worst locations imaginable with monsters and weather conditions that only the bravest or foolish would enter. The screen showed a human in a duster with a flag on the back, looking at a giant missile silo in some underground bunker. The narrator said that there was a man, a courier, who traveled all over the Mojave. He learned its secrets and planted messages for certain people, or maybe a particular person, to read across the desert. From the highest of its mountains to the deepest of its divides, he had been there. Who was this person?
The next video started showing areas of the Wasteland, both pre-war and after, that the narrator called near inhospitable. There were endless deserts, polluted rivers, and fields filled with corpses and bullet holes from endless fighting. Areas of the ruined world that, even to this day, continued to cause explosions, disasters, and chaos, which only doubled from the bombs. Things were so bad in other areas of the world before the war that some people even wanted the apocalypse to happen, so there would be a chance to start over again. To give humanity another chance by going a different direction from the corrupted state they once occupied.
“So even before The Great War, things were bad in this world?” Smolder asked, eyebrows raised. “You gotta wonder just how everything got to be so bad in the first place?”
When the end times came, many new societies and powers grew to enact their ideas to rebuild humanity: The New California Republic, The Brotherhood of Steel, Caesar's Legion, The Enclave, and many others. All proud to wield the flags and uniforms of the factions they had given their loyalty. Nevertheless, the flags of the old world were still flying even to this day. The Red, White, and Blue flag of The United States Of America could be spotted in many places of the Wasteland. A reminder of the once-great empire that fell from grace. However, strangely enough, they could be found nearly all over the Mojave, and it was not by accident.
“Could it be a new faction?” Ocellus asked, biting into her pencil. “Someone or group who wants to restore the old United States?”
“Isn’t that what the Enclave and the NCR are trying to do?” Sandbar asked.
“Well, in some ways, yes, but they both had different ideas of doing it,” Ocellus pointed out. “The Enclave is trying to rebuild America by genocide and military dictatorship with a sense of elitist divine destiny mentality. They think America should go back to how it was with them in control by wiping the slate clean. The NCR is trying to recreate America's spirit with social ethics and annexation while still creating its unique personality. They think America is something to admire and look for inspiration, but still, be their original nation.”
The narrator said that the old world's flags, such as the one drawn on a rock, were not just messages but rather a code. Although nobody, not even the narrator, knew who that message was for but who was making them was well known. That messenger was a tall, dark skin figure who had a long coat and duster jeans with boots that looked like they had seen much traveling. He had braided hair locks in a way none of the six had seen before. The symbol on the back of his coat was the flag of the old USA. He was walking towards a building that said “Mohave Express,” and he seemed to walk with a sense of purpose and power in his stride. They could not get a good look at his face, both from the strange mask he wore and his long dreadlocks.
The man was known as Ulysses, whose name came from a famous general who united two nations divided back into one of America’s most bitter wars. He was a courier for the Mojave Express, but that was just a cover. The group was shocked to learn that he was also one of Caesar's Frumentarii.
“What is a Frumentarii?” Silverstream asked, rubbing her head.
“From what the narrator talks about him,” Gallus spoke, “he sounds like a spy.”
“Well, he is a member of the Legion,” Silverstream huffed, crossing her arms. “So, he cannot be a good guy.”
Good guy or not, the group found themselves interested in him when the narrator explained more about him. Ulysses was a man who respected symbols and the ideals that they represented. His entire life was on trying to find one that he could proudly be a part of. It all started back during his time with his old tribe known as the Twisted Hairs.
“Sounds like a cheesy rock band name,” Sandbar snickered as the screen showed the tribe.
Wrapped in animal skin or covered in tattoos, the most distinguished thing about them was their hairstyle. They braided them to show their accomplishments in life, with each one being unique to the other. Even after the tribe was assimilated into Caesar's Legion, Ulysses kept that tradition throughout his life.
“Oooh! Sounds very similar to Yak braiding!” Yona exclaimed as she happily touched her mane. “Yak gives special hair designs for special occasions like ages, weddings, battle victories, and more!”
“It’s a shame that they had to stop such an interesting practice because of the Legion,” Ocellus muttered, shaking her head. “But, at least it lives on in one of them.”
Despite seeing his tribe enslaved and forced to join the Legion, Ulysses found himself loyal to Caesar, as shown when they saw him now with Caesar's bull symbol on the back of his coat. If there was one thing the man held above all else, it was loyalty to a cause he found worthy. A trait that could be respected by the six, mostly since it was one of the six main Friendship elements they were learning, but it did not sound all that great for a man like Caesar.
Ulysses served the Legion for many years as a scout and spy. He was even the one who discovered the Mojave and New Vegas along with the NCR and their flag: The two-headed bear. Right then and there, Ulysses knew that the Bull and the Bear were destined to fight for the Mojave, and only one would come out as the victor. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t at the First Battle for Hoover Dam and instead was sent further out west with orders to hurt the NCR supply lines from Interstate 15.
The tone suddenly shifted to the past as the screen showed multiple cars driving down the highway at top speed. Then it quickly shifted to the ruin it was today: wrecked and broken cards lined up like broken tombstones, wooden poles with rotten wood and crows waiting for food, and endless desert with nothing but tumbleweeds and bones.
“Kinda sad, isn’t it?” Gallus said, lending back against the wall. “All that achievement for travel and in a split second, it's all gone.”
“Makes you wonder if life is always fleeting?” Smolder asked.
Nevertheless, despite all the damage done to it, it was still used to travel from New California to Nevada. Not just for those seeking to find a new home, but trade caravans, military supplies, and fresh troops to protect the NCR’s assets. They watched as a vast line of NCR soldiers and brahman walked down the highway at full speed. Like in any war, supply lines were vital to making sure the armies could stay armed, feed, and fueled to continue onward. Interstate 15 was the lifeblood of the NCR army occupying the Mojave. It was no wonder that Caesar wanted it torn apart for his conquest against his biggest enemy.
“Smart of evil bald man,” Yona nodded, but reluctantly. “Destroy enemy supplies and enemies too weak to fight.”
“Yeah,” Ocellus said, shaking her head. “He may be an evil bastard, but he isn’t stupid. I’ll give him that.”
However, something happened to Ulysses on his way to Interstate 15. He found himself in a place on the Highway known as Hopeville, as seen with him being greeted warmly by its citizens. Despite having been heavily damaged from the war, people managed to rebuild into a growing and prosperous town again, which made the others smile in known its name meant something. Then, to their confusion, the narrator spoke about another courier outside of Ulysses. Someone who visited the town very often. The narrator then said that despite this other courier and Ulysses visiting the same town many times, they had never met face to face.
“What’s that about?” Gallus asked Silverstream, to which she shrugged with equal confusion.
The courier appeared on the video, dressed in a simple cowboy outfit with a hat that covered his or her face so they couldn’t see what gender they were. They had nothing but the clothes on their back and a gun by their side. Each time the courier moved, the camera seemed to avoid giving them an idea of whether this courier was a man or a woman. Furthermore, it still confused them as to why they were just called “The Courier” and not given a real name.
“Okay, I’m really confused,” Sandbar asked, tilting his head. “Why can’t the narrator give us their real name?”
“Maybe he doesn’t know?” Gallus suggested.
Regardless of who "The Courier" was, they were a crucial asset in helping Hopeville grow as a community as well as its neighbor big brother city, Ashton. Unlike the two major powers, Hopeville and Ashton were united under the old world’s symbols of the stars and stripes. Growing together under a rising power, they could have challenged the NCR and the Legion. Ulysses found himself respecting Hopeville and its symbols. He recognized it had the potential to be greater than either the Legion or the NCR and a safe place to find peace from the war. Yes, this new nation on the verge of a great beginning could be a home worthy of his loyalty.
“Well, anything is better than the Legion,” Smolder said before pausing. “Wait a minute, if this Hopeville place is such a big deal, or at least is going to be, why haven’t we heard about it before?”
The others realized this with wide eyes. The narrator made it sound like Hopeville was going soon to rival some of the biggest superpowers out there. So why only wait until now to mention it?
“I got a bad feeling about this,” Sandbar whispered.
Sandbar’s feelings turned out to be corrected as the narrator revealed a secret to Hopeville and Ashton that nobody, not even its residences, knew about. Deep below the town was a hidden military base that held not tanks or guns or robots, but nuclear missiles. Over a hundred of them. All sleeping quietly underground for two hundred years and yet ready to be lifted off to cause the same amount of destruction the ones all those years ago did.
“They were right under those bombs that caused the world to end?!” Silverstream shouted in horror. “If I learned about that, I would have gotten everyone out of there as soon as possible!”
“If it was such a big secret, how did the narrator know about it?” Ocellus asked.
The only saving grace was that whatever was supposed to activate the bombs during the Great War didn’t arrive to turn them loose upon the world, much to the relief of the six. That relief soon faded when it was revealed that it did eventually arrive.
Everyone’s eyes widened in horror as they saw fiery explosions erupt from the ground all over the areas of Hopeville, Ashton, High Road, and other areas near Interstate 15. Like the fires of hell itself erupting from below and unleashing nuclear death upon the innocent people as their starting nation was blown away without a blink of an eye. The sky turned red and orange, and the ground quaked, and crumbling buildings were turned to rubble in split seconds. A deep and sorrowful silence emerged from the room as all six turned away with tears in their eyes.
A hopeful future for a better tomorrow, a nation that was beginning to take its first steps, blown into oblivion by the very same weapons that killed billions two hundred years ago. How many lives had ended before they even knew what happened to them? What happened to those who were too far away to be killed an instant and yet still close enough to feel the torturous death of nuclear fire?
In their six hearts, all of them swore that no matter what happened, they would ensure that these weapons of utter death never were made in their world. It was a weapon that should never have been created in the first place.
The narrator further explained just how damaging the disaster had been. The very ground had been split into two, with roads torn up and radioactive energy spread through all corners of the area. Dust storms became so intense they could skin a poor soul alive. It even twisted the animal life into horrors never before seen. It became a death trap to all who even dared entered it to the point that it became one of the most feared locations not just in the Mojave but also in the entire Wasteland. All anyone, including the narrator, could wonder was why? Why did they suddenly detonate now two hundred years later? What caused this to happen?
The only person who knew was the only one who made it out alive: Ulysses.
“He survived that?!” Gallus shouted in awe. “Holy moly! He’s got to be the luckiest son of a bitch on that hellhole of a planet!”
“Yona in awe,” Yona whispered, wide-eyed. “Really in awe.”
“It couldn’t have been easy to survive that,” Sandbar muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I doubt he came out unscathed physically or mentally.”
“But to lose his home so soon after finding it,” Silverstream cried as she let out a few tears. “I take back what I said about him. I feel so sorry for poor Ulysses!”
If Ulysses did know what caused the missiles to go off that horrible day, he’s kept it to himself ever since. While Ulysses was the only one to make it out alive and mostly intact, that didn’t mean he was the only survivor. The group gasped in horror upon seeing red looking ghouls with painful and enraged filled faces. Some of them were in Legion armor and others in NCR outfits. They were the soldiers nearby who had been battling each other when the bombs went off, trapping them inside and changing them into a fate worse than death.
The radiation mutated them, but the dust storms had flayed them alive and twisted them even further. It was a painful existence to have your entire skin removed from your body and yet still be alive.
“Wait, all that red is their muscles?! EWWWW!” Ocellus shouted while gagging. The others soon followed, with Yona rushing back into the bathroom with a green colored face.
The poor soldiers were now no longer members of their once respective factions. Pain and hate had united them into killing anything outside of what was now called The Divide. Fortunately, they seemed to get weaker the further they were from their radioactive home, so there was no fear of an invasion from them into other local areas. That did not stop them from brutally killing any fool who dared go inside their territory, however.
The video then showed a wounded and half-burned Ulysses lying in some kind of medical room while Eyebots went to work healing and repairing him. It was only thanks to finding an automatic medical facility that he managed to survive. The base under The Divide had advanced equipment that allowed it to make multiple robots for various uses, including Eyebots that functioned like Auto-Docs.
After his recovery, Ulysses went back to the Legion, seeing as his new home was now a ruin. The groups saw him and other Legionaries, talking to some tribals out in a place called Utah. There he manipulated the White Legs Tribe into waging war in the name of Caesar against Caesar’s most feared enemy: Joshua Graham. The only person Caesar feared due to how he survived execution at Caesar’s hands and was now aiding another tribe.
“First Joshua Graham and now Ulysses,” Smolder counted. “That bald dickhead sure knows how to pick tough guys. That’s for sure.”
Both Graham and Ulysses, with their respective tribes, began to wage war against each other. They were teaching the savages how to fight with guns, tactics, and roman brutality in warfare. Despite their ignorance of what Caesar's Legion would do to them later on, the White Legs Tribe saw Ulysses as a hero and soon began to mimic his braided hair to honor him and still do so to this day.
However, Ulysses saw this as an insult to his dead kin and soon left the group. This lead to his disillusionment of the Legion as well. Soon, he began to wander around the Wasteland on his own for his own goals.
“I still don’t know what to think of this guy,” Sandbar said, confused. “I mean, it's clear he’s just looking for someplace to belong, and I do feel bad for him losing everything at Hopeville. But he still went back to the Legion and taught others how to wage war against an innocent tribe?”
“Well, he did leave them again,” Silverstream pointed out. “So maybe he had a second change of heart?”
“How many changes of heart does one need to go before sticking to a goal?” Smolder asked.
Whatever his mission was, Ulysses was determined to destroy anything of the so-called “New America” that was just repeating the old mistakes. He heard rumors of a weather machine causing the terrible sand storms in The Divine help up in a place called The Big Empty. He fought against brainless slaves and robots to end the nightmarish storms and rebuild the old America again. A noble quest, but ultimately futile based on what he found there.
Still, Ulysses never gave up and left his mark wherever he went as he traveled from one end of the Mojave to the other. All still looking for a way to bring back the America he envisioned during his days in Hopeville. According to the narrator, he was last seen at the town of Primm recently at the Mojave express. He turned down some job to carry a package to New Vegas for some reason, giving it to another courier and disappeared after that back to The Divide.
“Why would he ever want to go back to that place?” Ocellus asked as Yona slowly walked back out from the bathroom.
“You okay?” Sandbar asked, patting her back.
“Yak not going to eat lunch or dinner if that’s okay,” she answered.
It turns out that on his way there, Ulysses had left behind a series of new messages. Ones that were all for a different courier known as Courier Six. Was it the same one that had regularly visited Hopeville? Or one who had taken the mysterious package? Maybe they were both in the same?
“Whoever they are, it looks like Ulysses looks like he wants to settle something with them at The Divide,” Gallus noted.
“Could it be that this courier had something to do with what happened in Hopeville?” Silverstream asked. “If so...how?”
The message must have been heard because the narrator said that he saw a mushroom cloud from a nuclear bomb go off not that long ago.
“Again?! Are they just trying to bomb everything until there is nothing left?!” Smolder asked in frustration as she facepalmed. "Are all humans so stupid?”
Did Ulysses set it off? Or did Courier Six? What happened that caused the town to get nuked a third time? A grudge? A disagreement? An old score? For Ulysses, the new world had failed him time and time again, while the old world gave him the comfort he never knew, only to have it all taken away. Even now, The Divide was still home to him because of what it represented in his eyes.
The group saw a figure standing vigil over The Divide with nothing but silence as the coat with the old world flag flowed in the harsh dust storm. At first, the group thought it was Ulysses, but the narrator said it could have also been the other courier who managed to survive their fateful meeting. Or did something happen that caused them to make peace with one another and part ways as better people?
Either way, the narrator made it clear that whatever happened, it was the end of Ulysses’ journey and that he found peace at last. It was some comfort knowing that man who had been through so much was now free of his troubles. If he was still alive, that is, and not at peace in death.
“A guy like him? I think he’s still around,” Gallus said, nodding his head. “And I got a feeling that the other courier is too.”
“If that’s true, I guess even in the Wasteland you can find peace among your enemies,” Sandbar said with approval.
While Ulysses now might be content to be a guardian of The Divide, it was still worth noting he was once one of the Legion’s best men. However, he was far from the deadliest of them all. Specific individuals, both former and current, who were stronger, faster, and deadlier than Ulysses could ever be.
“Aw man, we’re going to learn more about Caesar's Legion?” Sandbar grumbled while shaking his head in disappointment. “Can’t we learn about anything happy just once? I mean, there is only so much utter death and destruction I can take.”
“What’s a ‘Legate’ anyway?” Smolder asked, tilting her head.
“Must be some commander-like position in his army,” Ocellus theorized as she wrote down more notes.
“Oh, hey! It’s that Graham guy! The one evil bald man burned!” Yona proclaimed as Josuha Graham, decorated in the usual white bandages that made him look like a mummy, appeared on the screen with a pistol in hand.
The narrator talked about how those who walked the Wasteland ended up usually getting scars, both small and big, which could be a good talk for stories. However, some wounds ended up defining a person for the rest of their lives in ways no human being should suffer.
“I think Josuha Graham is one of them,” Gallus said.
They watched as Graham slowly hid behind cover as a trio of raider looking tribals were standing guard. A second later, he fired his gun, blowing off the head of one of them in a burst of gore that made the others lurch back in surprise.
“Holy Celestia!” Sandbar cried out as Graham continued his assault as he gunned down a second of the three. The third tried charging forward, but Graham reloaded faster than the six could see and finished them off as well before he walked away without a second look.
All of this was done in less than fifteen seconds.
“Damn, no wonder he was top of Caesar's army before he got betrayed,” Gallus said.
The flag of the said warlord was soon seen flying in the breeze as the narrator talked about the Legion's arrival upon the great Hoover Dam. Caesar believed it was destiny to cross the Colorado River, similar to how his previous namesake did a long time ago. However, unlike the original one, the current Caesar was facing a foe that could match him: The New California Republic. Two vast different nations based on opposite ideas with only one that could stand supreme over the west of a once-great civilization now long dead.
The six watched as the two sides clashed on the very dam itself. Gunfire in all directions. Sniper fire from Rangers picking off Legion Captains and Centurions. Hordes of red armored warriors cutting their way through waves of brown and green soldiers. Bodies laid everywhere and somewhere thrown from the dam itself to a long drop below.
“Remind me never to take part in a war...ever...” Ocellus whispered as the others silently nodded.
Sadly, for the Legion, Joshua Graham had made several mistakes in that battle, which led to their defeat thanks to a carefully planned trap using explosives and the Legion’s arrogance. However, while it was a hard defeat, they were not done yet. Their vast fortress stood on the other side of the dam, with fresh soldiers and slaves for the upcoming second battle.
The six soon saw Joshua Graham, unburned and smiling, as he stood proud as the Legate of the Legion. One of Caesar's closest friends, he was admired and respected by the soldiers he commanded. That all ended when the defeat at Hoover Dam happened. Maybe Joshua was merely tricked by someone better than him, or perhaps he had limits that Caesar didn’t see in his friend? Regardless, defeat was a defeat, and the Legion only punished such shame with blood and death.
The six turned away as Joshua Graham’s burning body was thrown down the Grand Canyon with him screaming in agony. How the man survived was still a mystery to the six.
“Can you even survive being burned alive?” Silverstream asked. “I mean, I know Joshua here did, but I still find it hard to believe.”
“Yes, but you’ll be scarred for life,” Ocellus answered, shaking her head in sorrow. “The pain he must feel every day...”
The narrator only agreed with Ocellus’ statement. While Joshua Graham had survived his near death experience, he was forever disfigured and forced to suffer the agony of his burns. This only led to the question of who would lead the army now that he was no longer a member of the Legion.
“Hey, yeah, that’s right!” Smolder said eyes widened. “Who is the guy leading the Legion now that Joshua is gone?”
That answer was in the form of a man who was said to bring fear to the NCR troops' hearts. A man whose tall structure soon appeared in a storm of rain and thunder. His sinister-looking mask and armor made the six feel their spines tingle in fear as he held a blade that looked to be both a sword and a spear combined. It was wide and thick enough to cut any of them in two, and the man wielding it, if he could even be called a man, held it like it was a simple stick a child used as a toy.
For this person was no man but a monster, according to the narrator. All kinds of monsters could be seen from the Wasteland, be it from radiation, mutation, cybernetics, or the horrors of war. However, for the ‘Monster of the East’, he created by rage and hatred.
“I...I can feel it...” Ocellus whispered. Her eyes widened as the other five looked at her. “His rage...his anger...so much...”
“How? He’s not even really here,” Sandbar pointed out.
“Just by looking at him. His stance. Those eyes. That aura around him,” Ocellus whimpered as she shivered with terrifying awe. “What...what makes a person so...hateful?”
This person, whose real name was lost to history, was once the fiercest warrior of the Hidebark Tribe. His strength and power were unmatched by anyone in his tribe or those around him. Not even the Legion, seen running away from a hulking figure of a man, could fight him as seen with him cleaving their soldiers in two with his massive blade. They named this warrior “Lanius,” the Latin word for “butcher.” While some of the grim deaths disturbed the six, seeing it happen to Legionaries made it a bit more tolerable.
“That guy looks even bigger than Princess Celestia,” Sandbar commented.
“And look at her body count,” Smolder pointed out. “He’s one tough SOB, that’s for sure.”
Lanius was standing off a cliff of his tribe's walls, looking over at the rising sun while his tribe sat around happy and lazy. They had survived for 200 years thanks to their brutal strength. With Lanius around, they felt so invincible that they started acting more lazy and soft due to their over-dependence on him.
“Idiots, never stand around and be lazy! Always prepare for any future danger!” Smolder chided.
“So why do you sleep in class instead of paying attention to the lessons?” Gallus asked, deadpan.
“Details. Details.” Smolder waved him off.
Things changed for the Hidebarks when the Legion arrived in a greater force than imagined. They needed new slaves for their army, and seeing just how numerous they were, the elders of the tribe realized that this was a threat that not even Lanius could fight. So they surrendered. A coward's way out, but one they hoped would spare them from death. While Caeser did accept their surrender, Lanius did not. He found it a disgrace that the leaders of his tribe would surrender without dying a warrior's death, and so he turned on them.
“Wait, is he...” Sandbar gasped as Lanius drew his blade and began killing his tribesmen. “Holy smokes!”
“You never kill tribe members!” Yona screamed in anger. “Even if you disagree! Tribe shall not hurt tribe!”
He killed sixteen of them before he was finally overpowered with his face deformed and scared during his berserk rage against his tribe. However, Caesar was impressed by Lanius’s power and offered him a place by his side in the Legion. Disillusioned with his tribe, Lanius accepted with only one condition: he’d personally kill all the warriors of his old tribe, which Caesar granted him.
“Not just the leaders, but the warriors too?” Gallus asked in disbelief. “This guy is messed up! What kind of honor allows him to do this?!”
“This no honor,” Yona proclaimed with a huff. “It's just madness.”
Like many other tribes taken over by the Legion, their past is nothing but a footnote in a long record of tribal names that no longer exist, and the Hidebarks are no different. Their women became slaves, and their boys were now grown-up soldiers in the Legion with Lanius as the only full-grown man to survive from the original tribe.
To the surprise of the group, it turns out that Lanius held no love for the Legion in general. He hated the idea of strategy and trickery when he preferred to charge in and use brute force on their enemies. Lanius was loyal to Caesar himself and only fought in his name alone with pride and honor. Nineteen tribes had fallen from his hands, and it was a sure fact that he would lead the charge again in the next battle for Hoover Dam.
His armor was one of the unique things about him. Crafted by the Legion blacksmiths, Lanius’s armor could almost be mistaken for power armor due to its shape and size. However, unlike the Brotherhood’s power armor, it was all carried by Lanius’s weight instead of added gyros and power cores, unlike the advanced suit of armor. Yet no warrior was without a sword and his “Blade of the East” was every bit dangerous as he was as the six saw him tear apart Super Mutants and Brotherhood of Steel paladins with ease.
“But those guys are genetically and mechanically engineered with advanced armor and science!” Ocellus shouted in fear. “How can a mear sword do all that?!”
“I don’t know who would be the worst to face off in a fight,” Gallus said as he pointed to the screen. “This guy or that Frank guy from the Enclave.”
One of the final key elements of Lanius was his helmet. Due to his face disfigured in the fight against his tribe, he wore his helmet all the time. No other has seen his real face with even the slaves he had been blinded. All of this only helped further the enigma of Lanius whose myth sowed fear in the hearts of the Legions enemies, including the NCR.
Suddenly, the group was shown a picture of Ulysses walking down the Wasteland. He was one of the few who managed to escape life in the Legion and had personally known Lanius in person. In his talks of the “Monster from The East,” he strangely stated that if such a person with persuasion skills could meet with Lanius, it was possible to get him to part ways and leave the NCR alone.
“Yeah, right!” The six said at once.
Ulysses also met Joshua Graham, who went to the land of his people, New Cannan, to start life anew. They were a deeply religious people who worshiped one of the old world’s gods even after the bombs had fallen. They saw Graham and these New Canaanites passing out food and supplies to those who needed it. Having helped Graham, he reunited with his old people and began redeeming himself for his past atrocities as a Legate. Graham was already forgiven in the Canaanites' eyes, but he would forever hold the scars of his once dark past.
“At least he knows what he did was wrong and is trying to fix his mistakes,” Sandbar said.
“But can someone be forgiven for all that?” Silverstream wondered with a sad tone.
However, despite Graham’s desire to live in peace, whispers of the “Burned Man” reached Caesar's ear, and he began to fear his old friend would come back for revenge. The six watched in horror as the New Canaanites and a tribe under control of the Legion known as the White Legs started fighting with religious folk. Ironically, this was a tribe that Ulysses had a hand in making, but neither he nor Joshua seemed to hold a grudge. At least, so long as they remained apart from one another.
“Why?” Sandbar whispered, lowering his head. “Why can’t anyone just live in peace.”
“Damn that bald-headed evil flankhole,” Silverstream whispered with tears in his eyes. “I hope he dies.”
“Second,” Yona muttered.
The White Legs were sent to kill Graham but failed. He gathered what survivors he could and united with the Zion tribes to fight back against the White Legs. His skills in the Legion had come in handy in protecting them and reclaiming their homes from the invaders, but it seemed that he was unable to escape fighting from his past despite Graham's efforts.
Ironically, according to the narrator, the two Legates, Graham and Lanius, were very similar. Both served Caesar, either currently or once a long time ago, and we're forever cursed to wear scars because of it. However, while Joshua Graham saw his scars as a means to repent for his crimes as a monster, Lanius cannot see the one he has become since gaining them. One fights to redeem himself for his sins, while the other is a tool for destruction. It’s hard even to believe that at one point, the Legion had come from humble origins as the flag of the Followers of the Apocalypse waved on the screen.
"So, are you going to complain about this?" Gallus asked Smolder upon seeing the title of this video. "I mean, you were kinda critical about religion and all while ago."
"Look, just because I believe that there isn't a god in this universe, with these videos helping me believe that even more, doesn't mean I have a problem with people having such beliefs," Smolder answered, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, I'm not like those crazy snooty atheists who think all religious people are backward unenlightened plebians while acting as some big know it all jackass just to feel superior about myself."
"You know, that does beg the question. What kind of worship did these humans have before the Great War and after? I imagine that with society going the way it is, a lot of people turned to religion and faith to find some kind of answer," Ocellus asked, scratching her head with her pencil.
"Well, we know the Legion worships Caesar like a deity, but that's because he has the ego of one," Sandbar answered.
"Doesn't the Brotherhood of Steel worship technology or at least that Maxton fella who started the organization?" Silverstream questioned.
"I think they just revere him like some kind of great teacher rather than a messiah. They don't seem to be the technology worshiping type either despite their methods," Gallus theorized.
"Yona says we just watch and find out," the yak said as she made the video unpause.
The video showed a series of black and white videos of various humans in fancy robes walking down a large aisle. The clothing reminded the six of different religious garments that their own priests had worn in service to the gods, with Sandbar even comparing them very close to the ones in Equestria. These were the servants of the ancient world religions that most sadly didn't survive the Great War. No time for praying when you were busy surviving so you didn't meet God instead. The following image showed a ruined church with a strange cross-like object on top next. Pretty much every old town and city had destroyed churches, but nobody attended the masses anymore.
If the old world gods were ever going to come back, they were taking their time to do so. Instead, other religions appeared throughout the Wasteland due to man's need to believe in something other than himself. A lot of them were quite weird as well. Such as a town in the far east that worshiped a dud nuclear bomb in the middle of the town square. One that hadn't gone off ever since the Great War.
"What in the name of all that is holy would cause someone to worship the very thing that destroyed their world in the first place?!" Gallus asked in disbelief.
"What would cause anyone to even live near that thing is an even bigger question," Sandbar pointed out.
"Maybe they think it was divine intervention, and they worship it for not going off?" Silverstream suggested until the announcer told them that it was spreading cancer among the residents due to the radiation leaking. "Or maybe they're just idiots."
The name of these crazy bomb worshipers was known as The Children of Atom, and they were obsessed with not just the bomb but nuclear energy as a whole. They preach about the greatness of Atom, the Atomic God, and all those who ascend into a glowing earthly afterlife upon dying of radiation. The only reason the town even lets them evangelize is that they were fantastic engineers.
"Yona not sure if allowing death bomb worshipers in exchange for skills in machines a good trade."
Of course, not all Children of Atom focused on bombs. Others, such as a group in a bunker not far from the bomb holding town, were focused more on radiation and its effects. This group, mostly consistent with ghouls listening to a preacher, believed that being ghoulified was a gift from Atom to help evolve humanity into the next stage of evolution. The Holy Glow was one to be embraced and not feared, according to them.
"So either you die of radiation, or you get turned into a living zombie-looking figure? That's some divine gift," Smolder snorted. "They must have tons of followers waiting to convert."
The scene then changed to show a bunch of mole rats living in some underground cavern with a big one that looked to be the size of a Super Mutant that disgusted the six with how ugly it looked. This kind of Rat King was revered by the other mole rats as some kind of God-King while not worshiped by humans. They even managed to drive off the humans in an organized mass attack, but some adventures came around and killed the rats off. Strangely enough, that wasn't the only rodent 'god' known in the Wasteland.
Many ghouls fell into the control of a giant yellow-looking mole rat who promised the poor turned souls to return to their humanity with their powers. Provided they got plenty of cheese-flavored treats for it.
"You think Professor Fluttershy would ever worship a rat god? Or any animal god?" Ocellus asked, ending her latest note research. "You think she would be tricked into worshiping such a creature?"
"Honestly, I think it's the other way around," Smolder said, smirking. "The way they all follow her around it's like she's a living goddess to them."
"Save for Angel Bunny. He's just the devil," Sandbar muttered as he thought about that fluffy white demon which made him, and everyone else, shiver with both fear and anger at the thought. Fluttershy had once assigned them to watch over her precious bunny for a week for extra credit while she went off to visit her sick parents during flu season. Needless to say, the six of them had to be bailed out of jail by Fluttershy and Twilight since they almost destroyed half the town trying to kill the damn rabbit for all the horrors it inflicted on them.
It made the six of them vow never to get any pets in the future or even for their future kids.
Another cult that increased in power and influence was one known as The Church of the Cathedral. Many communities tolerated them due to their free medical practices, and they had churches all over the Wasteland with their headquarters in the Boneyard. Of course, this was just a cover for their sinister plans, for their Dark God was none other than The Master.
The six all froze up and began to back away upon seeing the shadow of the abomination and hearing the sound of its half human and half machine mutated body. Yona quickly covered her eyes while trembling at the sight of the creature. Despite knowing that it was just a moving picture, Gallus and Smolder looked ready to launch themselves at it while Sandbar held Ocellus in a protective embrace. Neither cared about the embarrassing notion that the two were in, but secretly they both found themselves loving the touch. As for Silverstream, well, she went back to playing dead like before with her rear legs in the air and holding a flower.
The Master might have been one of the most influential leaders with its dark cult along with its army of Super Mutants. However, perhaps the most potent weapon came from the mutation that it suffered from: telepathy. Its psychic powers enabled it to control massive amounts of people, and all the Super Mutants were able to move as a nearly invincible army thanks to its leadership. It was only another reminder of just how deadly the FEV was upon those unfortunate enough to get covered in it.
Everyone soon relaxed when the Master's shadow faded away, with Ocellus and Sandbar still holding each other as they stared into each other's blushing face before turning away. Maybe I should tell him/her how I feel later...both thought as they found themselves wishing they were still hugging. Once Gallus had awakened Silverstream with a bucket of water, they continued to watch.
Despite the hideous form that he had taken, The Master was fortunate in getting his gifts. Meanwhile, the human followers were all under his control that he manipulated into serving him. Some also joined for greed or out of sincere belief in his ideology, and they were willing to get their hands dirty to see his vision of a pure Super Mutant world come to fruition. Their hospitals were all secret bases for holding weapons, setting spies, and capturing essential survivors. It was all to pave the way for the Super Mutant army to come in and take over each of the areas they were operating in.
"Pretty good strategy," Smolder nodded grimly. "Infiltrate the area with false promises and gifts, weaken it from the inside, and then send your main force to smash the place while it's weak."
"Yaks would just smash. No need to infiltrate when you can bring walls down with horns," Yona proclaimed.
However, that was just one of the many dangerous cults that existed in the Wasteland. Another sinister area in Maryland was known to carry shadowy figures that spoke insane and babbling words that meant nothing in any known human language. The group gulped as these shadowy figures who appeared to be glowing ghouls, yet off for some reason, sinisterly walked around near an abandoned building. Inside wasn't much better as there were blood splatters on the wall and skeletons lying in dark hallways. The narrator said that inside, one could hear the sounds of living sacrifices ritualistically murdered on a dark altar to summon the dead back to life. It could be just a bunch of feral ghouls, or maybe it was something else?
"Maybe the humans do have access to magic?" Ocellus asked, nervously writing down her notes. "L-let just hopes it's not..." She gulped upon seeing an eldritch-looking location with a dark glowing pillar with strange symbols and designs. Along with some deformed human body sticking to it and a set of skulls. "N-N-Necromancery."
Thankfully the dark setting changed into a more happy one. Or rather one that was confusing as it showed a man smiling as he stood on top of a large amount of money. This was the man behind the religion known as "Hubology." A pre-war belief that had managed to survive, much to the annoyance in the narrator's tone. A book titled "Scientific Spirituality by Dick Hubbell" was shown, and the narrator said that many people, both pre and post-war, knew that the religion was a hunk of junk. It was a made-up religion by a science fiction writer who claimed that the souls of undead aliens possessing humanity were the cause of all their problems. Or something to that nature.
Of course, the Hubologists could get rid of those pesky ghost aliens for a price. A big one too. Even after surviving the Great War, they were still using the same tricks on poor suckers.
"Wow," Gallus said with a snort. "Dicks."
Thankfully, another old-time religion managed to survive this long that was a lot more helpful and spiritual: Mormonism.
"Hey, isn't that the group of people that help Joshua Graham?" Sandbar asked.
"Yeah, and he used to be one of them before he joined Caesar too," Ocellus said with a smile. "Glad at least one human religion is helping people out."
Mormonism was popular in the Mojave both before and after the war. It focused on helping people and evangelizing their faith to those who would listen. However, it soon caught the attention of Caesar, who seeks to wipe them out. Fortunately, as shown with them holding weapons proudly in the sunlight, they were more resilient than most and fighting back hard.
"Thanks to Joshua helping them out. Go Mormons!" Silverstream said, cheering them on.
"Eh, if they're kicking baldy's butt, then I guess they're okay," Smolder said with a smile.
Ironically, there's a big Mormon fort in New Vegas, but there are no Mormons there. Instead, it's a base for a group known as the Followers of The Apocalypse. With a name like that, most people would assume that they were another doomsday cult, but this was far from the truth. In fact, they weren't even a religious group to begin with but were scientists, doctors, and educators focused on healing the world and its population from the effects of the Great War.
Everyone smiled upon seeing these generous unitarians heal and fed the oppressed and starving. "Finally, some honest to goodness people who are helping others with nothing more than simple kindness," Sandbar sighed in relief.
"It's good to know that there are such good people even in this dark world," Silverstream said with a bright smile.
"Plus, they sound like a group I'd like to get involved with," Ocellus said with great enthusiasm, "Using science and knowledge to fix and educate the world. If we ever managed to find a way into this world, I think the Followers are the first group we should work with to help The Wasteland."
Everyone nodded in agreement with her and made a mental note to suggest this to Princess Twilight should the occurrence ever happen.
The Followers started a while ago in a great big library and realized just how much humanity had lost in the Great War. To ensure that the Great War never happened again, they made a vow to share their knowledge, plus any other knowledge they found in the years since, to drag humanity out of the dark age they had created and prevent such a disaster from happening again. They even played a role in helping the Vault Dweller stop the Master, which earned them further awe in the six's eyes.
Ironically, this made them very similar to the Brotherhood of Steel. Both sides were interested in pre-war tech, but the Brotherhood's focus was just on weapons, and they refused to share what they learned with outsiders. The Followers looked into agriculture, medicine, engineering, and other helpful studies to keep a town fed, warm, and healthy. Plus, they were more than willing to not only show others how to do this but teach them as well—all in exchange for nothing in return. The Followers did their best to keep some of the more dangerous technologies hidden and locked away from other factions such as the Brotherhood, Legion, and the NCR.
"Why the NCR? The Legion makes sense since they're all evil, and the Brotherhood of Steel I can understand because of their principles, but isn't the NCR...kinda okay?" Silverstream asked, tilting her head.
It turns out that the NCR and Followers had a history together. Both sides did have a strong friendship at first, but the NCR's expansionist policies conflicted with the Follower's pacifistic beliefs. Eventually, the two sides had a falling out, but some of the Followers did join the NCR as a specialized scientific group known as the Office of Science and Industry. In a bitter twist of irony, Caesar himself was once a member of the Followers and was raised by them when he was a child. Only he used what he learned to destroy everything around him in a brazen effort to rebuild the world in his image.
"Oh, yeah," Sandbar said, eyes widened. "I forgot about that."
"Bet some of the Followers are kicking themselves in the rump for that fiasco," Gallus muttered.
Still, despite such a bad apple, the Followers of the Apocalypse accepted outsiders regardless of their origins. Even a person, a blonde-haired man with glass, originally from the Enclave, much to the six's surprise, was a member. He took refuge with the Followers and saw their methods as a redemption path for his father's sins.
"Wow, I guess they really are the forgiving type," Smolder whispered.
A photo showed these tired and yet smiling men and women of this helpful group playfully taking their picture as the narrator talked about how they carried such a burden yet determined goal to aid a world filled with suffering. It was proof that one didn't need a religious textbook to find the means to bring kindness to the world or seek some happy afterlife. They were just trying to make a shadowy world a bit brighter before they died.
For the Followers, science was their key in trying to make the world better. Ironic due to the fact it was science that had ruined it in the first place. Primarily by those who took the pursuit of science a little to-SHSSHSHS!
"What the?" Yona asked as the screen fizzled out for a second. "Is orb thing broken?"
For it was these poindexters who, in their arrogance of trying to play god, would end up being more devil-like and-
"What's going on?" Ocellus asked as it fizzled again. "Wait, did anyone see that?"
"That thing that appeared and disappeared?" Smolder asked. "Yeah, what is it?"
More and more images of scientists appeared along with strange other things like brains in jars or-
"Okay, I'm getting freaked-
A hidden field of science for out in the Wasteland had lobotomized zombies, robots, and other science-SHSSHSHS!
"Okay," Gallus said after a long period of awkward silence. "Was anyone else freaked out by what just happened, or was it just me?"
"Not just you," all the others said.
"Whose Mobius?" Sandbar asked, tilting his head. "And what was that...thing that appeared with all the static?"
"It looked like a robot, but...I think I also saw a brain in a jar..." Ocellus said in disgust.
Smolder turned to the changeling and pointed to the screen with her thumb. "Think you can change into...whatever it was so we can get a better look at it?"
"Ew, no! Even if I could, there is no way I'd want to!" Ocellus shouted while sticking out her tongue. "Besides, I need to see it in person before me to observe and copy it physically. I can't just do it from out of a book or a screen."
Gallus snapped his fingers. "Darn. There goes my plan of having you turn into a Deathclaw and scaring the professors out of their wits."
"Can we continue? Yona curious of the shouting figure," their yak friend asked as they agreed to see what this was all about.
It started by showing a video of what appeared to be the great scientists of the Old World before the Great War, showing off their many inventions. It was these men who had created the numerous technological advancements that, hundreds of years ago, would have been impossible to even think of creating. They had developed robots, sent their people to space, and even harnessed the power of atomic energy. Yet for all the good things they had created with science, there was a list of horrors they had invented as well. The group could only nod upon based on all the terrors and nightmarish things that walked the Wasteland in its current time, from the Super Mutants to the experiments of Vault-Tech. It seemed that science, regardless of purpose, was as dangerous as anything else in the hands of humanity. However, what was really impressive was that the narrator told the six that the creators of such things were still around even today.
"Wait, as in, they're ghouls, right?" Sandbar asked, remembering just how long-lived those cursed with that mutation were. However, by the sound of how sinister and depraved these so-called 'scientists' were, it was hard even to think that this was true. Most of the ghouls they had seen were decent people, but the narrator made it sound like these specific scientists were anything but pleasant.
The scene on the screen changed to a different setting, one that showed humans celebrating and cheering on the streets of a city. Three hundred fifty years ago, America had won a war that had changed the world and came up as the top superpower after it. In this war, America had used the first atomic bomb, and it would set their society geared towards the atom going forward. Dreams of atomic rockets heading to the stars, endless amounts of nuclear power cars, and giant robots defending them from their enemies. As evidenced by the numerous robots shown on the screen, what seemed like fiction soon became a reality, helping their human creators with various chores and tasks. Even today, despite the ruin and devastation, the different buildings and monuments to these inventors and geniuses still stand, such as the RobCo factory, Poseidon Energy, and Vault-Tec.
"Yeah, and all of them turned out to be outright greed, evil, or stupid," Silverstream snorted.
"Yona no like science. It not only hard to understand but also causes so many problems," Yona proclaimed.
"I'd say that's kinda bias...but I'm starting to think science might not be the be-all and end-all either," Ocellus agreed with a heavy sigh.
However, there were some secrets that America's most remarkable minds thought best to keep out of the public eye. A painted image of six humans in lab coats, five males and one female, was then shown on screen. These brilliant and yet dangerous people were known as "The Think Tank" and engaged in the unethical experiments of science that you would only see in comic books. They even had their own lair, a massive complex called "Big Mountain," where they could experiment in peace without the care of morals or ethics from the public.
"Yeah, sorry, Ocellus, I think I'm with Yona on this one," Gallus said, shaking his head. "This sounds like this is going to be a brutal one."
Gallus' words proved to be correct as the narrator and the screen began showing the various experiments and inventions of the Think Tank. Giant Robo-scorpions, cybernetic dogs, biological enchantments, a stealth suit that could actually talk to you, which was weird since the purpose of a stealth suit was to be quiet, and toxins that could kill thousands.
It seemed that there was not an end to the number of insane experiments, but there was no end to their destructive capabilities. Even in a world where magic was real, some seem a bit far-fetched to believe, but the screen's images and the narrator's storytelling confirmed what they were seeing was real.
"Yeah, this stuff kinda sounds like it's from a science fiction movie like the narrator is saying," Sandbar said in disbelief. "I find it hard to believe they even did half of this stuff."
"Couldn't they invent something that wasn't designed for war or to kill?" Ocellus asked with a heavy huff. "Is it so hard?! Like is everything when it comes to science supposed to be used for war by these people?!"
That answer came from one of the most terrible secrets of Big Empty. The facility needed test subjects, but not the standard animal kind. Instead, Big Empty had various humans in cages being experimented on by the scientists, much to the six horrors. Horrors such as being infected with multiple diseases, surgically given painful cybernetics, or used as live target practice for various weapons. Due to the war against Communist China, it was deemed acceptable to imprison Chinese and Chinese-Americans for test subjects. They were forced into such unethical experiments that no decent-minded person would ever approve of it, so few people even knew what was going on. They were able to keep their prisoners in check thanks to the use of robotic slave collars. Go out of line or leave the area without permission, and boom. There were still ghouls with these collars on in the Big Empty, still trapped even after two hundred years.
And when there weren't enough communists to use as fodder? The Big Empty wasn't against using unsuspecting American citizens as well.
"That's just...so wrong..." Sandbar whispered while shaking his head in disbelief. "And they did this to their own people?"
"Screw this nation. I'm glad it's dead," Smolder huffed while flaring out some fire from her nostrils. "Maybe it was a great nation before, but when it goes as far as this? No, it deserved what it got."
Nobody decided to correct her over this.
Their technology spread throughout the US from military bases to some small towns to test out holographic technology, specialized vending machines, and the best medical care possible. Outside of that, there was a lot of their work seen in the Wasteland, notably the Mojave area, such as skin ripping dust storms, deadly red mists, and even rumored weather control. If there were any real benevolent plans for these experiments, they've gone horribly awry from their original purpose. Even suits designed to teleport wounded soldiers ended up making them into walking bonemen of rage and vengeance. There was even a toaster with a desire to kill and burn everything around it due to the Think Tank adjusting its programmed personality.
"Dear gods above, what kind of sick and twisted minds are these people?!" Silverstream asked in disgust.
"All in favor of skipping our science classes for the rest of forever?" Gallus asked, raising his hand, to which everyone but Ocellu followed so.
The Think Tank was now a crater surrounded by a circle of mountains, and it was rumored that there was a top for it but got blown off by a powerful weapon they invented. Not only did it keep most people out of the Think Tank, but it also, mercifully, kept the Think Tank inside as well.
"Good, the world is already messed up as it is," Sandbar said with a relaxing sigh. "I hate to see what would happen if these guys got loose."
The others all nodded in agreement, and by the tone of the narrator's voice, he agreed as well.
While most of the scientists and staff at Big Empty died one way or another, the six leading scientists that made up the Think Tank were still alive today. Only they were not ghouls, so they continued to age. They got around this by doing the craziest and insane experiment yet: transferring their living brains into robotic machines, much to the shock and horror of the six.
"T-They put their brains...into machines?!" Ocellus asked in horror. "That's impossible?! There are so many things that could go wrong?! How does the brain even keep thinking?! How is it possible to communicate?! What are the psychological problems that could even arise from it?! What kind of nervous system would you use for it?! This makes no sense!"
"Ocellus! Breathe! Breathe!" Sandbar said, holding her shoulders as she began to take in large breaths. "In and out. Just like that. Good."
"Wow, I never thought I'd see Ocellus lose her mind like that," Smolder whispered to Gallus.
"Yeah, I think she just did what's called Twilighting, according to the other professors," Gallus whispered back.
The six did indeed manage to transfer their brains into new homes, just as explained, but not without consequences. Whatever happened caused some psychological damage to the personalities, and floating around in modified brain jell for the past two centuries doesn't help either. They had codenames now instead of their real names and weren't even human anymore—just giant colored brain jars with tv screen appendages that held pictures of eyes or lips.
The group leader was Klein because the rest of them had become insane to the point of either breaking stuff, ranting about communists, or desiring to feel biological urges again. Not long after they became brains in a jar, Klein had a falling out with another group member: Dr. Mobius.
"That's the guy who kept interrupting the last video!" Sandbar pointed out.
Dr. Mobius was just like the others. Only he looked more damaged and dirty. One of his screens was broken, and he was floating in some military-based with a map of the Big Empty behind him. He lived in a place called "The Forbidden Zone," where he sent Robo-scorpions to the Think Tank to threaten and destroy them. A clash between the two who were constantly trying to outsmart the other, only both sides were mad from isolation and rotten brain jell juice.
"Sounds like a civil war or something is going on there," Silverstream suggested.
"Eh, let them bump each other off. Nobody will miss them," Smolder said with a shrug.
Regardless of the two sides were fighting, the only benefit was that it didn't affect everyone else outside of the Big Empty. Yet woe to anyone who goes in, as shown by the image of a human whose entire brain was scooped out of their skull.
"Oh gods, that's gross!" Ocellus shouted, turning away in disgust as did the others. "I think I'm never going to eat lunch again!"
"Second!" Gallus groaned as he held his stomach. "I'm starting to think these videos aren't good for my health."
Anyone captured by the robots of the Big Empty not only lost their brains but were replaced with electronics that the Think Tank could use to order them around. These lobotomites, as they were called, could be seen taking care of the Big Empty like a bunch of mindless janitors while also acting as guards for those who still have their brains. The energy barrier around the crater keeps the lobotomites from leaving and, thankfully, keeps the Think Tank trapped. The only ones who could go right in or out were those who not only had their brains but in organic tissued bodies. While there had been some poor unfortunate souls who did go in, there were also numerous dangers that came out as well.
Creatures such as the Cazadores. A giant wasp-like bug with a big stinger on it that was among one of the deadliest creatures in the Mojave. It made Ocellus feel offended that such a thing existed, and she quickly gave such a death glare to Gallus, who had opened his mouth, that he promptly stopped whatever joke he was going to say. Another terror from the Big Empty was the Nightstalker, a combination of a rattlesnake and a coyote that had such a venomous bite it could kill you in minutes. They hunted in packs at night, and many people fell victim to their hunts before being ripped apart for a meal. Even Professor Fluttershy would hesitate to befriend these creatures.
"I think a giant steel wall is needed instead of a barrier," Ocellus proclaimed before shaking her head. "Also, who in their right mind would want to go to a horrible place like this?"
In a world where advanced technology was necessary to survive and gain power, there were plenty of people willing to risk their lives and brains to achieve this at the Big Empty. One of these people was an old man who looked to be in Brotherhood Steel robes with a strange gun on his back while checking out a computer in a junk pile. He was a disgraced Elder named Elijah, who wanted to find the means to help the Brotherhood defeat the NCR. The place was a paradise for him and, thanks to his Brotherhood training, he was able to sneak around the Think Tank. He even controlled the machines of the Big Empty for a while. While he experimented and took what he could, he learned of a place with even more amazing gadgets and soon broke out of the Big Empty to travel there and get what he desired.
Elijah was one of the few rare men who could get around the Big Empty thanks to his genius ability with machines and science. Few, however, are so lucky, Such as an unfortunate assassin sent by the Brotherhood of Steel sent to eliminate Elijah before he could do more damage than he had already done. She got caught but was fortunate enough to get in a broken-down auto-doc that was supposed to turn her into a lobotomite. She managed to escape with most of her brains intact but continued on her hunt for Elijah.
"Sounds like there is a story to tell between these two we haven't heard of yet," Gallus pointed out.
"Credit to hunter. She dedicated to catching target," Yona said with respect.
"Hey, look! It's Ulysses!" Silverstream said as she pointed to the familiar figure entering the Big Empty.
The group was shocked to see him, but then again, this was the man who had traveled nearly everywhere in the Mojave for his quest. Apparently, he was one of only two others who made it out of the Big Empty alive. Yet, Ulysses wasn't there to get technology but learn what America was like before the Great War. The Think Tank may have been insane scientists, but they were still proud Americans who lived in the final days of their great empire. The other being who escaped was a different courier, but perhaps the one Ulysses had been looking for all this time? He just stumbled in by accident but managed to make it out alive.
"Man, who would have thought being the mailman made you the biggest badass in the land," Smolder said with a chuckle.
"Makes me wonder if Derpy Hooves would fit right in? That mare always seems to get in trouble and yet comes out no worse for wear," Sandbar said while the group started picturing her dressed as a cowpony shooting mutants and Legionnaires. It sounded cool when they thought about it more.
Yet, despite their current state of mind, it cannot be denied that the Think Tank is some of the most brilliant humans on Earth, and it shows just how far humanity could go with science. But Earth is just one small planet among the stars. As it turns out, there were other visitors from other plants who had been observing Earth. One's more advanced than humanity.
"Wait a minute," Ocellus said, eyes widening. "Don't tell me that we're going to learn about..."
"Aliens?! Cool!" Sandbar said, looking more optimistic than ever. "I've always wanted to know if life existed outside of our own planet!"
"Technically, we're not learning about our planet. Or even our dimension," Silverstream pointed out before asking, "Also, what's an alien?"
"You've never heard the term?" Ocellus asked, to which Silverstream, Yona, and Smolder all shook their heads in response. "An alien, or extraterrestrial, is a sentient being like you or me who lives or comes from a different planet than our own."
"Then would humans be considered aliens to us?" Smolder asked.
"Possibility, but they would be extradimental since they're from an entirely different dimension instead of our own," Ocellus stated as a correction. "It's debated whether aliens really exist or not. This could be the only planet with life in the entire galaxy, or there could be other planets with life outside of our own. Unfortunately, there really isn't any proof to prove either theory."
"Most of the stuff you see in science fiction has them as conquers seeking to enslave us or peaceful beings who want to help us," Gallus said with a smile. "Personally, I'd like to see an alien."
"Well, let's see what the ones the humans have faced are like?" Sandbar said as the video started.
The narrator started off by stating that humanity was no longer the only species that existed on Earth. There were now mutants, ghouls, robots, and dozens of other creatures of various kinds of intelligence that now roamed the Wasteland. However, a race of beings arrived long ago that was non-human and not from this world. Even when America started out as just a bunch of colonies, they were being watched by a dangerous race of space-faring beings.
"Sounds like it's going to be the bad alien kind humanity's going to have to deal with," Sandbar said with a disappointing sigh.
"To be fair, if these were benevolent aliens, they would have helped them the moment everything got nuked," Smolder pointed out.
"Or saw they were so stupid and decided to leave them alone," Gallus suggested.
The group watched in awe as a giant rotating disk in space floated above the planet. It was a flying saucer that was even bigger than the entire school. Everycreature inched closer to get a good look at it and its glowing aura. The narrator pointed out the irony in a world with walking corpses, talking Deathclaws, and brains in jars; few people believed that aliens existed. To them, it was the stuff of pre-war fiction. Still, there was undeniable evidence that aliens did exist, such as a crashed spaceship lying in the middle of the desert, as shown in another image. Some people waved it off as Pre-War experimental airships that looked like UFOs. Still, chances were they were just forcing themselves into denial.
There was a strange ship just North of Washington D.C. that was part of a series of alien aircraft that had been crashing all over Earth for the past 100 years. Even the Vault Dweller was said to have discovered such a craft during his adventures and used an alien ray gun as a weapon. The crew saw him, armed with the ray gun, blasting giant scorpions into atoms with a powerful energy blast. After his death, it fell to the NCR's top scientists, who have tried to recreate it, but it doesn't work anymore, and the power source cannot be made on Earth. The one thing that can be agreed on is that it's so advanced that there was no way that it was made by human hands, even before the war.
Sadly, the item is lost now and was sold off by some merchant who didn't know its value. So it could be anywhere or in anyone's hands.
"How do you lose such an important item! That's ridiculous!" Ocellus shouted with a roll of her eyes.
However, there are other alien artifacts out there, and rumor has that some of the more advanced technology mankind has made is based on unknown design. For example, a group of people mutated with psychic powers that most believed didn't exist. Still, upon seeing the full extent of their abilities, it was clear they were no joke. The only thing keeping them from losing control of their powers and dying was "Psychic Nullifiers," that was said to contain alien tech inside of them. The Master was said to use these to keep his more powerful mutants under control, but the design can still be seen in various parts of the Wasteland.
"What are psychics?" Yona asked.
"Creatures with mental powers like telepathy, telekinesis, and pregoconition," Ocellus answered.
"So...magic?"
"Um, kinda?" Ocellus rubbed the back of her head. "It's more mental than magical."
"Then what big deal if magic does the same thing?" Yona asked.
"I think it's more of an ability that a non-magical creature can do without magic," Gallus said as he pointed to Sandbar. "Like if Sandbar suddenly could lift things by flicking his hooves or read our minds just by looking at us!"
Yona then gasped and closed her eyes which made Silverstream tilt her head. "What are you doing?"
"Yona want thoughts to be private so she shuts her eyes so friend Sandbar can't read them!" Yona declared.
"Yona, I'm not psychic," Sandbar said with a chuckle. "Though I admit it would be cool if I was."
The scene then shifted towards a group the six weren't happy to see again, The Enclave. It turned out that much of the technology they used was rumored to be made by reverse engineering alien technology. At the same time, some military bases held A.I.'s. Artificial Intelligence that were essentially self-thinking machines that could rival, or exceed, human intelligence. The U.S. Government knew that aliens existed but kept it a secret from the common folk to prevent panic or for personal purposes. Just as explained earlier, they knew the apocalypse was coming, and that war was inevitable. While there were multiple ideas on how they could survive ("While leaving everyone else to rot," commented Smolder), such as the Vaults or the Enclave Oil Rig, there was one bold idea to leave the planet itself.
Since there were other life forms besides humanity, there were other habitable worlds that they could colonize and reform society under. There was a bold and giant plan to create rocket ships that could transport humans to these worlds and start anew, but the war started before they could accomplish this goal.
"Question is, would they just try to save themselves with space travel or with all of humanity?" Silverstream asked.
After a moment of thinking, the six quickly answered, "Themselves."
Although considering what these creatures were like, the Enclave was probably lucky. Those who have met these malicious aliens can tell you they aren't the friendly sort and were some of the most brutal fights in their lives. A few years ago, someone from Vault 101 got teleported upon one of the ships, as seen in a video of a man in a blue jumpsuit approaching one of the ships. It turns out that most of the ships seen in the Wasteland are just scout ships. An entire army of them kidnapped and experimented on humans for the past six hundred years in space.
"So not only is human life making twisted science experiments, but alien life as well," Ocellus sighed as she shook her head. "Is this a dimensional problem then? Using science as a means to hurt people?"
"How did the narrator get video footage of the alien's ship to begin with?" Smolder asked as it showed humans floating in some kind of white and blue pods that held them in suspended animation.
The answer never came as the narrator stated that the aliens could have been around as long as medieval times since some of their prisoners were wearing ancient armor and carrying swords. Whatever technology the aliens possess, those that survive the experiments are still around even after being kidnapped all those years ago. Now they come home to an earth that is quite different than what they imagined.
"Wow, that would have to suck," Gallus said grimly. "Imagine waking up hundreds of years later to find everything you know and love ruined and turned into this craphole."
"I wonder if Princess Luna felt something similar when she returned from the moon after a thousand years?" Sandbar asked, sadly. "It couldn't have been easy."
These people who were in suspended animation are one of the few pure non-mutated or radiated beings in the entire world who not only lived in the wayback times but can talk about them with clarity. They also were the few who managed to survive living with their captors and are among the lucky ones, as indicated in a gruesome picture of two grey and greenish-looking aliens in spacesuits experimenting on a human being who was being torn apart with strange tools and equipment. The sight of which made the other wince.
"I can see where the Enclave got their inspiration," Ocellus said in disgust.
The aliens don't see human life as equal to their own. Instead, they see them like cattle or other animals. Perhaps it was a sense of superiority, or maybe they just were outright malicious beings? According to the survivors, after a human is captured, they are interrogated before put into stasis until they are ready to be experimented on. What started out as vivisection soon turned into mutating their "lab rats" into mindless half-human and half-alien freaks that appeared on the screen like living grape men. Perhaps they were foot soldiers for a war they were dealing with? Or maybe it was just a failed experiment? Or perhaps they were just jerks?
Nobody knows, and perhaps mankind never would. Their reasoning was just as alien as they were. Lately, they've been using their teleportation beams to suck up junk from the Earth for some strange purpose. Some rooms in the ship are even designed solely for specific objects, such as an entire room of robot ponies.
"Robot ponies?" Sandbar asked, looking at them with raised eyebrows. "They look nothing like us."
"Yeah, they don't have big rumps as you guys do," Gallus said.
"Yeah, and wait...what?" Sandbar said, covering up his flank. "My rump's not big!"
"Um, compared to other ponies? Not really," Ocellus said with a shrug. "But I think everyone here can agree that you ponies kinda have big rear ends."
"Yeah, kinda hard not to notice when you're walking behind a line of students with their butts jiggling everywhere," Smolder said with a nod.
"Plus, the toilets are much bigger than in Griffinstone," Gallus said, crossing his arms.
"I kinda always thought we hippogriffs had big bottoms, but you ponies take the cake!" Silverstream said with a smile.
"B-But what about Yona! She's big!" Sandbar shouted, pointing at Yona, who smiled back.
"Oh, thank you, friend Sandbar! Having a big butt in yak culture is a sign of good beauty!"
"Sure, Yona's butt is big, but her whole body is big. You guys have small bodies but big heads and butts," Smolder pointed out. "Plus, you show off your special talents by having tattoos on them. Kinda like you want everyone staring at your behinds."
"Let's...just finish the video," Sandbar grumbled as he took a few pillows and surrounded his lower body with them.
Humanity wasn't the only species the aliens experimented on, as evidenced by the decapitated two-headed brahmin. It seems they went through a few of them before realizing that humanity was the most intelligent instead of brahmin despite the creature having two heads.
"Guess two heads are not always better than one," Silverstream joked.
Despite the apparent differences, there were some similarities between humans and aliens. Both needed oxygen to survive and could eat each other's food. The aliens' diet seemed to be based on some kind of space squid and worms that, while gross looking, were edible. Their biogel was also a means to cure wounds, and their strange gel might be the stuff that keeps brains in jars alive such as the Think Tank. Not that the aliens care all that much since they still see humans as lower beings compared to themselves.
Suddenly, the view changed to a giant space battle between one of the motherships against the others in a light show of space lasers and explosions that had the six in awe at the display. It seemed that the one from the vault had staged a rebellion against the aliens with the humans on board. They took over one of the ships and destroyed most, if not all, of the fleet. However, some of the aliens survived, and some farmers in New Vegas swear they have been seeing funny flying ships at night.
So far, there has been no major invasion from the aliens, and instead, it's just the scout ships. Maybe there was nothing worth taking over on Earth since most of it was ruined by the war, but that didn't stop people from claiming they had seen alien species walking among the planet. The problem with mutations is that it's hard to tell the difference between something mutated by radiation or from out of this world. One example was the wanamingos from California were thought to be aliens but were just creatures mutated by the FEV before the war. While they were believed to be wiped out after killing their queen, some are still seen, which means there might still be more queens. Hopefully, they were all dead since they were mighty hard to kill to the point where you needed to burn it and then shoot it in the groin. A fact that made Gallus and Sandbar wince and crossed their legs.
Still, thanks to most of the aliens being wiped out by the rebel humans, the skies were a bit safer, but not completely. So the aliens were still out there that they could still be sighted today. Still, it's hard to think that they're just going to leave like that. An advanced race of beings doesn't fly down thousands of light-years just for raw materials and water.
Speaking of water, the narrator pointed out that it was perhaps the most crucial resource in the Wasteland. For he who controls the water controls power.
The following videos started by showing what appeared to be a group of merchants armed to the teeth and traveling with brahmin that were holding large packs filled with various items. Some were carrying guns, others food and water, and a few other odds and ends. While this group traveled through the Wasteland, the narrator explained that it wasn't hard for small communities to live on their own in isolation. Growing your own food and digging your own well for water could be just enough for a few small shacks, but as you began to grow, you needed to find supplies for your people. And that meant trading and exchanging goods with one another.
"Every creature lives by exchanging," Ocellus quoted as the others looked at her. "Apple Smith. Founder of capitalism. I think Professor Applejack is related to him."
Before the Great War, the old world had so much stuff that they didn't know what to do with it. Thankfully, despite the bombs destroying most of civilization, there was plenty of it still around, and folks were eager to trade for them. Almost every area of the Wasteland had large piles of scrap that could be salvaged and used for repairs. Salvaging was pretty much a must-needed skill for any Wastelander if they wanted to survive. The real gems to find were areas with fresh soil and untainted water so you could grow food and water. In a post-apocalyptic world, the need to eat and drink was the basis of not just survival but also establishing control.
The problem was these areas were few and far from each other, with raiders, mutants, robots, and other nasty things in the way. It took a lot of guts and courage to be a trader, but they were the lifeblood of the new civilizations in the Wasteland. Whether it was the NCR or Caesar's Legion, trade needed to flow to keep flourishing. No better group did this than the Crimson Caravan.
"Make sense," Gallus said with a nod. "Even we griffins, despite being selfish, still trade with our cities and towns."
"Yak clans trade with other yak clans all the time," Yona proclaimed.
"Before the Storm King, Mt. Aries used to be a big trading center," Silverstream explained. "Auntie Novo is looking to restore that glory these days.
For over a hundred years, the Crimson Caravan had been trading all over in California. From north to south, east to west, they were among the few if not the first significant trading organizations in the Wasteland not long after the bombs fell and the vaults opened up. They had managed to survive and prosper thanks to clever business tactics, ruthless determination, and a little bit of luck along the way. They were willing to risk it all. It paid out as they were now one of the biggest influences and businesses in the New California Republic.
The life of the caravan owner wasn't easy. Before the NCR became the powerhouse of the west, the roads were a lot wilder, with dozens of raider gangs like the Vipers and Great Khans roaming the area. The Crimson Caravan made sure to hire the best gunslingers, mercenaries, or hardened wanderers who were willing to risk their lives in a few shootouts for caps or supplies in return. The Vault Dweller was even said to have helped a few caravans himself along his journey sometimes. One of his first companions was a hired gun working for them before joining his buddy in changing the Wasteland. Thankfully, these days, the caravans were smaller, more armed, and could easily fight off raiders looking for easy loot.
"Kinda sounds like one of those old western tales you hear about," Sandbar said with a smirk. "A bunch of cowponies walking the desert with a trading group, fighting off bad guys, and heading into town for a nice cold drink at the saloon."
The scene on the video screen then changed to show what appeared to be one of the Crimson Carvan's branches. It looked like a large armored outpost with an iron steel fence. Workers counting various goods before hooking them up to the brahmin and mercenaries checking their guns could be seen aplenty. Over the years, the Crimson Caravan had expanded its business to even outside California, including the Mojave.
However, things weren't going as smoothly. The Crimson Caravan might have been the top dog in NCR territory, but the Mojave had dozens of family-owned caravans and delivery groups that had been around for years. They weren't too keen on some outsiders coming in and trying to take away all the good work, and thus competition was fierce. One of their biggest rivals was the Mojave Outpost, as shown in the following image. While not a caravan trading company, they were said to have the fastest and best couriers west of the U.S.
Because the Mohave was a lot more dangerous than the trade routes of California, everyone was trying to claim what routes there were. To help out with the competition, the Crimson Caravan sent out an old but tough-looking woman who made the others gulp upon seeing her stern glare. Anyone could tell that this lady was willing to buy out the competition with either diplomacy, threats, or plasma.
"Remind me to never get involved in the business world after we graduate," Gallus whispered to Smolder, who nodded in agreement.
One prominent group didn't fear the Crimson Caravan, and they had also been around just as long as them. Since the Wasteland was dangerous, everyone needed a weapon to protect themselves. If you wanted protection, then the Gun Runners was your group. Unlike other groups which traded or found weapons to sell, the Gun Runners was one of the few, if not the only, business that could make their own firearms and ammo from scratch.
"Wait, they can make the weapons?" Ocellus asked in awe. "That's a huge advantage they have. It's one thing to sell items, but to make and sell them is even better."
The narrator agreed and even stated that both the Gun Runners and Crimson Caravan had similar origins. They used to be a gang near an area known as "The Hub". They often hung out at an abandoned factory, as shown in the video as the gang was looking around in awe at the vast space and machines before them. Seeing an opportunity, they made sure to build up their defense by surrounding the factory with radioactive sludge save for their own personal entrances to ensure that only the most serious customers came to trade with them. The six soon saw the Gun Runner testing out various rifles, pistols, shotguns, and more on target practice dummies while writing down details with each gun. They needed to make sure that their weapons were of top quality so that everyone who came to see them had access to the most severe hardware possible in dealing damage.
"Hmm, between these guys and the Brotherhood, who do you think is more dangerous?" Silverstream.
"I say the Brotherhood of Steel because they got lasers, plasma, and power armor," Gallus picked as he pointed at the screen. "These guys look like they just shoot regular ammunition."
"Yeah, but they have them in such high quality and quantity," Sandbar pointed out. "Plus, it looks like they can build them faster with bigger numbers. Despite a small setback due to some deathclaws at one point, the Gun Runners soon became one of the biggest allies to the New California Republic, who pretty much armed the entire army with their stock. "See? And let's not forget the NCR beat the Brotherhood at Helios One. All the strongest equipment in the world is nothing if you don't have the numbers to use it properly."
The Gun Runners took no chances with their hardware. All their purchases were made at kiosks with robot salesmen who had their entire shops built around them. No way in or out save for a small dispenser to give the merchandise and caps over. A bit paranoid, but it ensured that their secrets remained safe and that nobody stole from them. Funny enough, despite their dealings with death, they were one of the more honest and noble merchant groups who would treat you well if you treated them back the same way.
Some groups were a lot less noble.
The student's eyes widened at the size of a large amount of plasma, laser, and flame-based weapons that looked shiny, new, and very deadly. One could almost forgive them for thinking that this was some station of the Brotherhood of Steel or the Enclave. Instead, it was a store for the Van Graffs.
Unlike the Gun Runners, the narrator called the Van Graffs merchants of death and for a good reason. Their shop was cold, dark, and armed with dozens of heavily armored guards who looked like a nasty bunch. Each was armed with a laser or plasma rifle, and the snarling expressions on them made it clear that they didn't want to deal with small talk but just caps.
"I got a bad feeling about these guys," Silverstream whispered, and the others nodded their heads in agreement.
The Van Graffs took no shit from anyone. They were as likely to shoot you with a plasma pistol just as much as they were to sell it to you. They were a family-owned operation from California that only recently started operations in the Mojave in a pre-war casino in Freeside called "The Silver Rush."
Unlike the Crimson Caravan or the Gun Runners, the Van Graffs were willing to use underhanded tactics and work with shady groups to get money and power. They were more like a mob family than a business, and they didn't care who they hurt or killed to get their way. This was even more evident when one of the Van Graffs immediately executed a tied-up and helpless person with a laser rifle that turned them into ash.
"How horrible," Ocellus whispered as the Van Graffs looked away from the charred remains without a hint of remorse.
"Ruthless sons of bitches, huh?" Smolder said, crossing her arms.
"Well, if I ever end up there, I'm never doing business with them," Silverstream growled.
Still, even with shiny plasma weapons, there were some problems that even weapons couldn't solve, such as dehydration. If a person hadn't had any water in days, they would be willing to trade their shiny plasma pistol for a single bottle of water. Such was evident in the video that showed one trader giving a poor dying man his bottle of water while taking said plasma pistol.
Silverstream shivered. "I couldn't imagine dying of thirst. That's one of the worst ways to go. I'd rather end my own life."
Water was perhaps the most precious resource in the entire Wasteland, and people drank it whenever and wherever they could. From rain in the sky to holes in the ground. Even from toilet bowls that were hundreds of years old.
"Too much information!" Ocellus screamed as everycreature gagged.
"Okay, maybe dying of thirst sounds less bad..." Silverstream groaned in disgust.
The problem was most of the water around still contained radioactive atoms from the bombs, and anyone who drank it could face a minimal risk of being sick over time. In the old day, water was fresher, and some machines could purify it just in case something was wrong, but those days were few and far between save for Washington D.C., where the water was as fresh as new.
If anyone had access to fresh, clean water, they had perhaps the most precious resource in the entire world. In the days after the Great War, a group of Water Merchants who lived in The Hub had access to one of these areas and controlled it as a means of influence and protection. They were one of the most powerful factions at the time. Even the Vault Dweller turned to them in Vault 13's time of need with their water chip breaking down. Nowadays, the NCR made sure that almost all of their citizens had access to fresh water, but there was never such a thing as too much as they eyed the Mojave's Lake Mead with desire. Those living there were lucky that Hoover Dam was built so that pretty much anyone could get it if they did good enough engineering.
Out east, there was no Crimson Caravan or anything similar to it. Most of the trading hubs and businesses were small and independent. Still, thanks to the big cities and towns devastated by the war, they were ripe for the picking. The closest to being the most influential was one trade hub near Cadbury Commons. However, that didn't last long due to a superhero and supervillain fighting it out with giant robots and ants.
"...what?" Every creature asked as they tilted their heads upon seeing a human dressed in some robot suit fighting with a female in ant armor. Both were controlling armies of robots and ants that were tearing the city apart.
Since East America was more anarchistic, it was up to the foolish or brave to be traders and messengers who dealt with all the rotten luck that came down their path. Fortunately, some skilled fighters were out there, and some were willing to give gear to help them out like military-grade robots for protection.
When the video changed, Gallus's eyes went wide. "Wow, that's a lot of robots and broken parts."
The narrator explained how a single item in the Wasteland could hold such great value even if the person who found it didn't understand what it meant. After all, it was a single water chip that started the first significant change in The Wasteland. So who's to say having the right amount of scrap metal, electronics, and sensor modules couldn't give you a best friend that would end up saving lots of lives? In the end, everything was owed to those who were willing, for whatever reason, to haul things from one end of the world to the next.
Suddenly, the music began to change to a more hip and jive tune, which surprised the group. The narrator explained how, despite civilization being built one scrap yard at a time, some believed that the world wasn't being made fast enough. There were still goodies from the old world that had value and could change the world for the better. Or worse, depending on who you asked.
One of these men, dressed in robes with a strange rifle on his back, believed this to be accurate and slowly walked into a new area the group hadn't seen before. There was a golden gate with two words that dazzled the dark red sky like a siren in the night.
When the video started the group of six was confused by how different the world suddenly looked. It looked all black and white, drawn by an artist, and the humans and their horses were acting differently as well. “Uh, did we suddenly go into a new world?” Smolder asked.
“Wait a minute...oh these are cartoons!” Sandbar said with a smirk.
“Like the cartoons they have in the Sunday newspapers?” Silverstream asked, excitedly. “I always love those! Those Walnuts ponies are some of my favorites! Especially that little dog and tiny bird!”
“Kinda, but these are animated cartoons. They sometimes appear in movie theaters as attractions for audiences before the main movie starts. Like a starting show before the main one,” Sandbar said with a smile. “It’s a new thing that’s starting to spread around more theaters. I only remember it 'cause I saw one with my family at a movie theater in Manehatten last year.”
The said cartoon was apparently about one of the old folk tales that Americans grew up on in their old times. Figures such as Pecos Bill, John Henry, and Paul Bunyan. They ranged from wild outlaws who went on fantastic adventures to big men who could cut down numerous trees with a giant ax. They were used as fairy tales to make children believe the world was a more imaginative place, but these days such things were not needed due to how much the world had changed in the last two hundred years.
However, there was still one folk tale that was told and it was a legend that has spread far and wide: The Sierra Madre. A poster appeared on the screen showing a woman in a fancy suit with the said name down below in bright gold. There were posters of the place all over the Wasteland and like sirens to sailors they answered the call to find it. Of course, the fate petty much for all of these poor fools was death in the desert as not only was the Sierra Madre near impossible to find, many didn’t know where it existed.
“So it’s like the Wasteland’s version of Shangri-La,” Smolder said with interest.
“Shangri-La?” Silverstream asked, curious.
“An old dragon’s tale that talks about a land far east of here that is a paradise for dragons. They say the dragons there live thousands of years old, drink sacred water, and are thin and long like serpents while flying in the air without wings. It’s just a legend though, many explorers went looking for such a place and never returned,” Smolder explained.
“Wouldn’t Discord count as a serpent dragon?” Ocellus asked.
“I think Discord is a creature in and of himself,” Gallus pointed out.
The concept of searching for treasure, glory, or paradise was something that existed since the way-back times of mankind's early days. Even a hundreds years ago before the turn of the millennium, many men headed out west to look for gold in the mountain regions to find their fortunes. Some did. Others found nothing. Ironic considering these days in the Wasteland you had prospectors everywhere looking for salvage to help them survive.
But what was the Sierra Madre? An old world resort and casino that was said to be perfectly preserved even after the apocalypse happened. Created by industrialist Fredrick Sinclair, it was designed only for the highest of society to the point that it was more than a match for the classic Las Vegas Strip.
“Bet House Man not like that,” Yona pointed out as images of the resort began to show itself. Despite some decay over the years, it still had a sense of beauty and art that reminded the six a lot of the Canterlot Palace.
It was a place that was meant to be perfect for all who entered. Where the unlucky could win big at the gambling tables, see the biggest stars in the world like Dean Domino, and mingle with the high class in the local villas. The only thing that was strange about it was the fact that it was so remote that it made everyone ponder the use of it as a resort spot.
“Yeah, aren’t resort locations supposed to be in high populated areas like big cities or in luscious green environments that look like a nature reserve?” Sandbar asked, rubbing his head. “Why is this one out in the middle of a nowhere desert on a small mountain?”
“I get the feeling we’re going to learn a dark secret at some point about this Sierra Madre,” Gallus replied deadpan. “I mean, that’s kinda par for the course when it comes to these places.”
The narrator seemed to think so as well. The Great War happened before the place could officially open. Was Sinclair’s plan to ride out the end of the world with the elite? If so, it didn’t seem to work in the end. Or was there a personal reason for it and did it tie in with the theme of the place? It’s purpose was to come and start over again. Throw away your past problems and be reborn with a chance to start anew. For folks who never had a good start or lost everything before falling into a pit of despair, it sounded like a golden ticket to a new life. There was a radio transmission that played in the air of a goddess sounding woman urging people to come and let go of their trouble. To “Come To the Sierra Madre and Let Go”.
A man, seemingly deciding to find the place, could be seen wandering the desert with as much gear as he could carry to find the casino. He was one of many who went and never returned. Was it because the place really was as great as it was predicted to be? Or was it another false hope that led to the end of so many adventurers? The few that came back said they went into the deepest parts of the desert only to turn back due to a dangerous red cloud that kills anyone who comes in contact with it.
“A what?” Ocellus asked as the screen showed hellish red clouds surrounding what appeared to be the real Sierra Madre. “What kind of cloud is that?”
“Don’t ask me, I’m not an expert when it comes to weather,” Gallus said, hands raised up. “That’s something to ask Professor Rainbow Dash.”
However, it turns out that there is a way inside and a way out. Through the use of an old Brotherhood of Steel bunker, a man has been bringing goodies in and out of the Sierra Madre for experimentation and study as evidenced by the science lab set up in the video. These included a safe with shiny chips with the resort's logo on them, jars of the red toxic goo that is hypothesized to be connected to the cloud, and a strange vending machine that materialized whatever objects you wanted provided you had the chips of the Sierra Madre for them. The last one got everyones attention as the narrator went on to explain just how advanced it was. It was capable of materializing anything based on schematics fed to it and function with systems that even made Ocellus’s head hurt.
What was amazing about them was that, from seemingly an unknown energy supply, it could conjure up anything requested: food, water, guns, ammunition, clothing, tools, and more. Anything and everything could materialized provided it wasn’t too big and the vending machine had it stored in its memory banks.
“Wow...” Ocellus whispered with her eyes sparking. “With machines like that you could end...almost every problem in the world from a supply standpoint! Hunger! Illness! Injuries! Building materials! All could be fixed by simple matter configuration and placement! The science behind this is light years beyond what we have! Think of the hungry, downtrodden, homeless, sick and more you could fix with all these vending machines! You could do so much good!”
“I think someone is gonna float like a butterfly if she keeps getting more excited,” Gallus whispered to a giggling Smolder.
The narrator agreed with Ocellus’s statement. If groups like the Followers of The Apocalypse got their hands on this technology, they could help thousands of people and change the world for the better. Sadly, the one currently running the shots at the Sierra Madre was not a good person. In fact, he was the farthest from one you could be.
“Told you,” Gallus pointed out.
“And here we go again,” Silverstream muttered.
To everyone’s somewhat surprise, the next location they saw was Big Empty. It turned out that the real location of Sierra Madre had been lost for years but the technology behind it was developed by the Think Tank. The location was still in the databases there, and a while ago, during a big ruckus, someone managed to get that information. A former Brotherhood of Steel Elder named Elijah.
“Wait, I think we remember this guy being mentioned a while ago. When we learned about the Big Empty,” Gallus pointed out.
“Yeah, he was an Elder looking for some way to help the Brotherhood defeat the NCR,” Silverstream recalled.
The video then showed a young Scribe of the Brotherhood of Steel working on some power armor and it was quickly figured out that this was Elijah but at a young age. According to the narrator, Elijah was the one person probably in the whole Wasteland who could not only figure out how to access the Big Empty databases, but also figure out where and how to get to the Sierra Madre. When he was younger, Elijah was a brilliant and good man with an almost wizard-like ability when it came to technology. However, this was sadly what led him, and the Mojave Brotherhood Chapter, into a dark path.
Before he was an Elder, he was a Scribe whose purpose was to fix and research technology that was found by the Brotherhood. His genius abilities made him rise to the rank of Elder, a rare thing for a Scribe to become as most were typically Paladins. However, Elijah decided to go against the Brotherhood’s typical dogma and mission. Rather then just gather technology and learn about it, Elijah wanted to improve it and reuse it for the Brotherhood. Particularly with weapons such as Helios One which could be seen behind a photo of an aged Elijah and Brotherhood Paladins. After all, the isolationism of the Brotherhood had caused them few allies and many enemies. Despite their advanced tech, they didn’t have the numbers and more powerful dangerous weapons would even the odds more in their favor.
“So this guy was similar to Lyons in that he went off the normal path of the Brotherhood,” Sandbar said.
“Only his focus was making the Brotherhood stronger by building and making more weapons rather than focus on helping Wastelanders,” Silverstream pointed out.
“It’s amazing how similar and different people can be,” Ocellus said as she continued to write notes.
Elijah found his big weapon at last at Helios One. He believed that if he could master the controls of this ancient weapon of mass destruction then it would put the Brotherhood at top of the wasteland without any fear of their enemies. However, Elijah overestimated just how much time and effort would be needed to uncover the secrets of Helios One and that time was wasted on trying to even get a small part of it operational. To make things worse, Helios One was technically under the territory of the NCR who wanted the area as a means to make electricity for its people.
Not wanting to give up his precious treasure, Elijah ordered his soldiers to endure a long siege against the NCR as he tried desperately to unearth the arcane secrets of Helios One, but in the end he was unable to do so and was forced to give up at the cost of most of his chapter’s numbers.
“So this is the guy who led them to their doom,” Gallus grumbled, folding his arms. “And all because he couldn’t unlock some stupid technology? What a total loser!”
“Yeah, Yona knows that elders of her tribe would not allow such a sacrifice happen! Elder should be ashamed!” The yak yelled while pointing at the grumbling old man. “Yak want to smash Bad Elder until he get sense back!”
“I think you’d send him to the hospital first,” Smolder pointed out before muttering, “not like he doesn’t deserve it.”
The Mojave Brotherhood Chapter was forced to retreat back to their bunker with thinner numbers, but Elijah, unable to accept his loss, left the Brotherhood to wander the deserts to find some way to get revenge on the NCR and reclaim Helios One.
“Wait, he not only caused his own people to suffer, but he refused to accept responsibility and left them just to try and get back to Helios One from the NCR?!” Silverstream shouted in both disgust and disbelief. “That’s... That’s just stupid!”
“Seriously, this guy is on King Sombra or Queen Chrysalis levels of bad and irresponsible leadership!” Sandbar shouted. “I’d love to see any of the Princesses teach this guy a thing or two about what it means to be a real leader.”
“I’d love King Thorax to do the same.”
“Same with Prince Rutherford!”
“Ditto with Dragon Lord Ember!”
“And my Auntie Novo!”
“...Why am I the only one who doesn’t have a good leader?” Gallus grumbled in disappointment.
“What about Grandpa Gruff?” Silverstream asked.
“Eh, he’d probably get along well with Elijah knowing him,” Gallus replied, rolling his eyes.
Naturally, his chapter felt betrayed and even those who once believed him lost faith in their old mentor’s eyes and believed he had fallen into madness. Including two younger members who he treated well yet forbid them to be together because of his distaste for homosexuality. And one of them would face worse tragedies from the man later on.
“Great, so not only is he a mad coot, he’s a homophobic dick as well,” Gallus grumbled. "Guess that would make us not friends."
Silverstream blinked for a second and nervously asked, “Um, Gallus are you...?”
“Gay? No, bisexual,” Gallus said with a shrug. “I’m into boys and girls. Wait, why?”
“Oh, no reason,” Silverstream whispered with a sigh of relief. Still got a chance...
The screen then showed Elijah entering the Big Empty. While the Brotherhood of Steel had access to amazing technology, they were nothing compared to the advanced scientific discoveries at Big Empty by the Think Tank. Upon seeing Elijah talk to the floating brain jars themselves and learning he had discovered old goodies from their work, the student six began to fear what kind of chaos he could do with those weapons. After all, the Think Tank might have been brilliant, but they were all bloody insane.
Their predictions were right on the nose as a smiling and pleased Elijah appeared happy upon finding such sinister inventions like bomb collars that slavers used. Ones that could not only be turned on remotely but could be used to force anyone into obeying his will. The fact that he was happy to have found such a thing only lowered the low approval he had among the six. One of the rarer treasures found were holographic emitters, a miracle of science even before The Great War, and it was only ever sent to one location in mass quantities: The Sierra Madre.
The owner had used the holographic technology to create his own holographic police defense force which the six saw walking around. They were made out of pure energy thus invulnerable to any damage while being extremely deadly. Originally, their purpose was to protect the inhabitants of the Madre, but Elijah wanted to use them as soldiers. An army he could use to ravage the already chaotic wasteland.
“My gosh...” Ocellus whispered in horror. “He wants to use the entire Sierra Madre as a factory for war!” Everyone stared at her as she began to turn pale. “Think about it?! An army of energy based soldiers that can never be damaged and can fight back?! Vending machines that can make near unlimited food, water, ammo, and more supplies! Exploding collars to force prisoners or civilians to submit to your whim! And all while being in an area protected by a deadly red cloud that kills anyone who gets too close?! He’s trying to, and I know I’m being cliche, take over the world!”
“C-Could he do it with all that though?” Sandbar asked with worry. “I mean there are so many factions and-”
Unfortunately, even the narrator claimed that if Elijah had access to all of this in his control, there was a good chance not even the NCR could stop him. The thought of this mad crazed man using all these dangerous weapons for his ambitions made them sweat and somehow they feared this man would be just as bad, if not worse, then Caesar himself. However, the only positive sign was that it seemed like Elijah hadn’t been successful yet and there was hope he might never be.
If Elijah was smart he’d hear the sounds of what the siren who calls all towards the Sierra Madre and just let go of his past. Let go of his pride and anger of what happened in the past. All the vengeance, humiliation, and losses. Sadly, it just seemed doubtful that this would happen despite the narrator’s belief that sometimes stories of the past needed to stay buried, but not forgotten.
The wasteland held many stories the wasteland held and the narrator himself claimed that, despite not leading as exciting of a life as the Vault Dweller or the Chosen one, he had his role in making sure the stories were not forgotten. A figure in black power armor appeared on the screen and the six’s eyes widened.
“Wait...is that...” Smolder whispered in awe.
His story was quite a long one and as the figure looked at the six via his screen in his custom made power armor he said, “And definitely one for another day.”
"Wait, are we actually going to learn about the narrator himself?" Smolder asked in surprise. "Now that I think about it, who is this guy?"
"He looks like he's a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, but his power armor is all different," Gallus pointed out. "Like it's custom made or something. Plus, I don't see any of the Brotherhood's insignia on his armor."
"Maybe he's just a friend of theirs?" Silverstream suggested.
"Or maybe it's just Non-Brotherhood power armor?" Sandbar theorized.
"But the only people who have power armor besides the Brotherhood of Steel are the Enclave and NCR," Ocellus said while looking deep in thought. "Could he be a former member of either group, or did he really just customize his own power armor without assistance from any of the Wasteland powers."
"Can we just play already! Yona wants to learn more about Storyteller!" The yak whined as she pointed to the title "The Storyteller" on it.
"Huh, so that's his name," Gallus replied with a shrug. "Sounds ponyish."
"Ponyish?" Sandbar asked, his eyebrow raised.
"Well, you ponies kinda have your names really on the nose either about yourselves or about objects, emotions, seasons, or any kind of noun-based symbolism," Ocellus stated. "I mean, our names don't sound like food."
"Or colors."
"Or rocks."
"Or emotions."
"Or objects you find in the sky."
"Fine, I guess our names aren't the most original. Sue us," Sandbar muttered, rolling his eyes as Silverstream decided to start the last of the vids.
The video started showing a wandering ghoul traveling in various locations ranging from a desert to an icy tundra to a ruined city and more. The narrator, or Storyteller if the title was his name, described that few people remembered the time before The Great War. The handful of them was no longer human such as ghouls or those who had their brains in jars. Others were able to cheat their demise by circumstance such as being abducted by aliens, put in stasis, or having a life support system the likes never seen before. However, one person had seen it all from the start to now. Rumors called him everything from a ghoul to a super mutant, but he was just Harold to those who knew him in real life.
Harold, who the six realized they were watching, was climbing up a mountain when the video changed to a black and white reel showing the Great War in all its infamy as soldiers lay in trenches while watching bombs go off. Navy and aircraft traveled along the sea and air towards Anchorage, Alaska, where the last resources were being fought over between the US and China. Harold was just a child at the time and didn't remember much, which wasn't a surprise since he was still learning his letters and numbers.
"I can't imagine being a kid at that time," Silverstream whispered with a sad sigh. "Kids are supposed to have fun, learn about the world around them, and be loved. Not forced to see their entire world fall apart from war and hatred."
Harold had managed to get lucky and survive one of the working vaults of Project Safehouse. The others had already known that Vault-Tech and the US government had made many vaults faulty for their sinister experiments. Only they were learning of some bizarre ones, such as one where a thousand kids were alone with no adults or a cloning system that made the clones go insane and murderous. The one that made them all growl was the vault about ritual human sacrifice, but thankfully the Storyteller didn't go into detail about that one.
A human, who had to be Harold before his ghoulification, was seen walking around the Wasteland in a Vault 29 Jumpsuit. Now an adult, Harold took part in the first communities of the new Wasteland he had to call home, working as a percent and prospector. A simple but safe life for the most part, and he was successful enough to start his own caravan business. Then, one day, he and his partner, Richard Gray, went to look into some mutants harassing their caravans to put a stop to it. Little did either know this journey would change their lives forever.
Because the place they found them was at an old military base. Specifically, the same one where the FEV was being tested on and where Roger Maxson, founder of the Brotherhood of Steel, revolted all those years ago.
"Wait, they found that base?" Ocellus cried out. "Talk about bad luck."
"Or fate." Sandbar stated.
While they were no Super Mutants, the monsters that lived there were some of the worst ever seen. Most of Harold's companions were killed despite having all the mutants filled with lead to make them dead twice over. In the end, only Harold and his friend Richard had survived before seeking shelter in the base.
"Yak got bad feeling about this," Yona said, which the others all gulped and agreed on the yak's statement.
The Storyteller confirmed what they all suspected. Based on both the US government and Brotherhood notes, the base contained the Forced Evolutionary Virus. Be it by accident, ignorance, or on purpose, both men were exposed to the FEV, and each suffered different mutations. A familiar and sinister shadow with computers and tentacles appeared, and instantly all six were on edge but kept calm for the most part this time. Gallus even managed to get Silverstream to stop playing dead three seconds into her performance. It turned out that Richard Gray, once an average human and friend of Harold, was the true identity of The Master. The creator and leader of the Super Mutant army who tried to take over the world and end humanity.
"So that's where this guy came from? He was a normal human and just went crazy?" Sandbar asked.
"Some villains don't need dramatic and tragic backstories, I guess," Ocellus replied as she wrote some notes.
Harold, thankfully, didn't turn into such a monster. He turned into a ghoul but looked more human than most. Harold was unique. Since people didn't know what he was or how to deal with them, Harold became an outcast among his once fellow humans like any other ghoul at the time. He lost his business, friends, customers, and everything but the clothes on his back and a few possessions.
Harold moved to the Hub, doing what he could to earn money, and soon met face to face with none other than the famous Vault Dweller from Vault 13. The future savior of the Wasteland. Of course, Harold didn't know he was in the presence of greatness and just thought he was another lost soul who needed help. It wasn't until long after he learned that the greenhorn kid he met was a hero destined for glory. Harold didn't play any particular or unique role in helping the savior of the Wasteland, but he still used the meeting between them as a way to tell a story to earn caps.
The Vault Dweller was a hero known throughout the Wasteland as a male human from Vault 13. Their water chip had broken down, and his Overseer sent him to find a new one. Specifically, Vault 15. It seemed weird and crazy to send a nobody who never experienced the outside world to do this, but nobody qualified, so the pick was random.
"I wonder what the Vault Dweller's real name is?" Silverstream asked.
"We may never know," Smolder answered.
Unfortunately, Vault 15 had long been licked clean, and its inhabitants were roaming the Wasteland, with the nearest being Shady Sands, the future starting point of the NCR. After helping them out a bit, they directed him to the bigger settlements in California such as Junktown, The Hub, and more, but neither of them had water chips. Eventually, the Vault Dweller found a new water chip in the ghoul city of Necropolis, but that was not the end of his adventure, for he found himself face to face with a dark power rising from the ashes of the old world. The Super Mutants were making their impact on the world, and the Vault Dweller found himself facing them for the first time in Necropolis. At the same time, The Brotherhood of Steel, the most powerful faction, had also founded the Super Mutants, but only their corpses. After testing the Vault Dweller, they were impressed and welcomed him as one of their own. He was even given his own power armor after teaching him how to use it.
"You know, for a video called The Storyteller, we're learning more about people who are not The Storyteller," Gallus pointed out.
"Shh," the others said as they were heavily invested in the story and the photos.
Having discovered where the Super Mutant army was coming from and its leader, the Vault Dweller went on a full-frontal assault on the home base. They watched as the hero valiantly slaughtered the army of green monsters like a hero in a fairytale until he went deep into the darkest levels of the base. Although, sadly, none of them saw the climactic battle between the Vault Dweller and The Master, even though they all knew who won in the end.
After his victory, the Vault Dweller was seen traveling with other humans through the Wasteland. Having been prevented from returning home, the Vault Dweller gathered a group of followers before making it north, where they founded the village known as Arroyo. It was a tribal society that wasn't high-tech, but they were free to live their lives free from any of the dangers of the outside world for a time. The Vault Dweller eventually passed on from old age, but his story was still strong even after all these years.
Very few who knew him are still alive, but one of them was Harold. Sure he didn't know him closely, but he used their meeting as a means to tell the tale of the Vault Dweller. Thanks to his mutation, he lived an unnaturally long life without worrying about dying of old age. However, that wasn't the only thing his transformation had given him. For some reason, a tree branch started growing out of his head.
"What?" The others all said in confusion.
"I...guess that's one way to stand out," Ocellus replied while wondering about the scientific and biological possibilities for that mutation to even happen in the first place.
It also turned out that Harold wasn't done meeting heroes yet either. In the ghoul city known as Gecko, Harold met the Vault Dweller's descendant, The Chosen One, who would be another savior of the Wasteland and future destroyed of the Enclave.
"Wow, what are the odds of one guy meeting two heroes related to each other at different times?" Smolder asked.
History seems to like to repeat itself because the Chosen One was also on a quest much like their ancestor and looking for Vault-Tec technology. Only this time, it was for a device known as a G.E.C.K. or Garden of Eden Creation Kit, which they needed to help save the village of Arroyo from dying. Anyone can turn a part of the Wasteland into a green paradise with the kit.
Upon seeing the briefcase device on the screen, Sandbar asked, "How does something like that make an entire dying land a garden?"
"The better question is why didn't humanity use technology like this more often than their stupid weapons?" Silverstream pointed out.
"I can think of a lot of places here that could use a briefcase like that," Gallus thought as he recalled just how rotten and putrid some places in the Griffin lands could be.
"Same here," Smolder said as she wondered what such a device could do for the ash and lava-covered dragon lands.
The elders of Arroyo had sent the Chosen One to Vault 13 to find the location of where a G.E.C.K. could be found. Every Overseer of Vault 13 had been paranoid about the Wasteland (Not that the students couldn't blame them) and kept their location a secret until the end. The Chosen One had to search from place to place for knowledge of the old vaults, which led to a lot of traveling. Harold, meanwhile, had joined up with some other ghouls and was living peacefully with the residents of Vault City, who were originally from Vault 8. It turned out that Vault 8 had a G.E.C.K., but they had already used it to turn their decaying land into an oasis of shelter, food, and clean water, along with a thriving town that looked like something from the past golden age of America. With Harold's help, the Chosen One helped settle an issue with Vault City and the ghouls. Thus, Harold had taken part in another part of a great hero's history.
"It's like looking at two different worlds," Smolder said as she looked at the video that showed the fancy and modern-looking Vault City.
Of course, others knew both the Vault Dweller and the Chosen One simultaneously. President Tandi of the NCR had met the first when she was a girl after he saved her from The Khans. The experience shaped her into a harsh and resourceful leader who helped turn the NCR into today's powerhouse. Seeing the same potential in the Chosen One, she convinced them to do a few dirty political jobs to bring some of the other territories into their fold. Even back then, the NCR was trying to expand its borders, but none could deny that it had significantly impacted the nation.
"At what cost is the question," Sandbar said with a shake of the head.
"Come on. You don't seriously think that all great nations aren't made without dirtying their hooves a bit, right?" Smolder asked with a snort. "I'm pretty sure Equestria has a few dark secrets that the Princesses keep glossed over in the history books or don't even talk about at all. No nation is a hundred percent virtuous, Sandbar. I think you have to realize it."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I have to like it," Sandbar muttered.
Eventually, the Chosen One did learn about the Enclave's plan to wipe out most of humanity. The very same people who had helped start the war, Project Safehouse, the mutations, bombs, and disasters the people of the Wasteland had been suffering from even today were all thanks to their actions. And now they wanted to play God one last time and create a world where only they and their families could live and thrive. However, the Chosen One, a mere "tribal savage" in their eyes, had gathered their friends to stop Enclave and ruin their plans, so they headed east in retreat.
"Talk about irony," Silverstream said with a giggle.
The Enclave weren't the only ones to head east. The Brotherhood sent a few expeditions in the same direction, such as Chicago (Which they lost contact with) and Washington D. C. What did this have to do with Harold? Well, it turns out he went east as well, but...
"Goodness gracious! He's turned into a tree!" Sandbar shouted as the others gasped and leaned back in horror.
Having traveled east himself for unknown reasons, the tree branch in Harold's head eventually grew to full size. Now he was a tree, trapped inside of it, with nowhere to go as he continued to grow and spread his roots out. This led to a group of religious followers who worshiped him as they thought he was some kind of nature god due to the grass and plants growing greener around him. Although grateful for the company and care, he was still crankier than ever, with the only other visitors being strangers who visited him to ask questions after drinking the "magical" concoction of the followers.
"That has to be a weird experience," Gallus said, scratching his head. "You become a tree and then get worshiped as a living god by a bunch of hippies."
"Somehow, I think Professor Fluttershy wouldn't mind this," Ocellus said. "Didn't she mention once she'd like to be a tree?"
"Yona not want to be tree. She get cut down and made firewood. Or used by animals as home and toilet."
"Didn't need to think that," Smolder muttered in disgust.
But while things might be settling down in the east, things were stirring up again in the west. The group growled in disgust upon seeing Caesar himself looking over the Hoover Dam with his army ready to march soon. Arizona had been razed to the ground, and from it came a new power, Caesar's Legion, who were seeking to dominate all in their wake. Standing at a standstill with the New California Republic, the two dominant forces sought control over Hoover Dam and the Mojave in general. That is, if Mr. House, the leader of New Vegas, doesn't try to do anything first.
The Storyteller told them he was glad that Harold got out of California before it all started going crazy. He hoped his friend was still alive and wanted to share and hear more stories with him.
"So, the Storyteller and Harold are friends?" Silverstream asked. "Aw, that's sweet. See guys. Friendship does exist!"
"Yeah, I guess it's nice to know that even in these dark times in a messed up world as The Wasteland, you got people making friends," Sandbar said with a nod of approval and a soft smile.
Suddenly, to their surprise, the video showed the so-called Storyteller by a fire as he looked directly at them from a rusty old chair. "That's all we have at the end, you know? Whether it's talk of the Old World or what's happening at the other side of this dust bowl. Stories allow us to travel to places we've never actually been. Live lives some of us can only dream of. Of course, that's just the handful of stories I've stumbled across in my days. The Wasteland has many more secrets buried in its sands, and strangers like me are all too happy to share them with fellow travelers...even ones from another dimension."
"Wait, what?" The six said in surprise.
"I have to admit. Seeing a unicorn from another dimension where magic and fantasy are real is something I would never have believed, much less get the chance to experience. Still, I doubt anyone will believe this no matter who I tell it to," The Storyteller said as he looked into the fire.
"Wait, is he talking to Starswirl the Bearded?" Sandbar asked as everycreature looked closely.
There was a brief silence before the Storyteller looked at them again. "Did I ever tell you the time I took a boat down the Chesapeake Bay and met the inbred descendants of pre-war hillbillies in the swampy ruins of an old park?"
"Um, no, not really," The movement of the video then moved to show that, indeed, it was Starswirl the Bearded standing there next to the fire with the Storyteller. The famous unicorn sighed and rubbed his head. "Look, all I asked you was where this drink called Nuka-Cola came from, and you instead went into a ramble about this Harmony forsaken world for four hours without barely mentioning anything of it."
The unicorn then lifted the said drink and took a sip of it. "Seriously, that's all I wanted to know since it's good. Now that you rambled on about it, I have to find some way to take shots of all these places, figures, and people so that ponies think I didn't waste my time here. All I wanted was a drink!"
There was a long silence between the six who just stared at the screen in disbelief.
"You mean to tell me...that the only reason we have this entire collection of videos...is because Starswirl The Bearded...was thirsty?" Smolder asked.
"...I have a feeling my respect for him just went down a lot," Sandbar muttered, with the others nodding in agreement.
"Well," The Storyteller said as he cleared his throat, "back in the way back times, people in the Old World took their soda pop seriously. There's an old cowboy robot over at the Sunset Sarsaparilla Factory that'll tell you-"
"Ugh, please, no more stories," Starswirl moaned as he threw his soda away. "Honestly, I don't care anymore. Besides, it might be best to do all this stuff remotely without even talking to humans, especially if they are as chatty as you. You have all these bloodthirsty creatures, dangerous environments, and pretty much bombed your entire world to oblivion over a war that makes our wars back in Equestria look like snowball fights. How are you people even surviving out here despite all this?"
"In the Wasteland, a body either learns to survive or dies right quick. There's a lady that published a survival guide of sorts a few years ago. She lives in a town that has a pre-war bomb right in the middle-"
"I don't care!" Starswirl cried out as he facehoofed. "You already told me about this place like three times! If you know so much about this stuff, why don't you do what I'm doing and record it all while talking about it?! Maybe that way, you humans can stop dying like idiots and get around to fixing this stupid world. Jeez, this world has to be one of the worst ones I've come across. And again, it's filled with humans! How many dimensions are there that have your race as the dominant or near dominant culture?!"
"Wait, there are more humans out there in other worlds?" Smolder asked before pouting. "What the heck?! Why them?! Why not dragons?!"
"Or yaks?!"
The Storyteller seemed to pause upon hearing this. "You mean...like my own Wasteland Survival Guide?"
"Yeah," Starswirld sighed as he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Anyway, I'm going to sleep and go back home tomorrow. I'll figure out how to do all this...nonsense of talking Deathclaws, crazy dictators, and sex robots later...although I may edit that one out later."
"...Sex robots?" Gallus asked.
"Let's not think about it," Ocellus wisely stated.
"By the way, I never got your-" Starswirl the Bearded looked up and saw that the mysterious Storyteller was gone. This also shocked the group since they didn't even see him leave. "Huh, well. Might as well turn this off and head to bed...right after having another bottle of Nuka-Cola. Seriously, where can I find this recipe..."
And with that said, the last of the video ended, and the screen disappeared. For a few minutes, the six of them just sat there in silence, trying to think of what they had just all seen, and Smolder couldn't help but laugh. The others stared at her as she pointed to the orb and said, "All of that for some soda?! That's hilarious!"
The others soon started snickering, but then they all started laughing as well. The whole thing was just ridiculous when they thought about it more. After a few minutes of laughing, the six of them soon calmed down and shook their heads. "Well, I bet Headmare Twilight would be going confused if she saw this," Gallus said.
"Speaking of which," Silverstream cleared her throat, "we did start this all off for an assignment, right? Are we still going to use this world?"
To everycreature's surprise, Sandbar was the first to state his opinion by saying, "Of course, we should!"
"Huh, but I thought you hated this Wasteland world?" Smolder asked, tilting her head.
"Yeah, I don't like it," Sandbar said, shaking his head in disappointment. "These humans caused their entire world to fall into chaos. Even after all that, they still fight each other instead of helping each other. There are indeed good people and organizations trying to help humanity get back on its feet, but it's not enough. I don't know if they'll ever learn their lessons or not, and I do hope they do, but if there is one thing that I can say about learning all this, we need to make sure it doesn't happen in our world. Just because it's impossible to think of such an event happening now doesn't mean it won't happen in the future."
Sandbar walked over and picked up the orb. "I don't know if this world can be saved by Friendship or not, but I do know we can talk about how to prevent such a thing from happening. We need to realize that we can share our resources, talk things over, work together for the better of others, trust ourselves, and not let the greedy or ambitious rule over us while making sure people's rights are protected. Maybe we can't prevent our end if such a thing is destined to happen, but maybe we can at least delay it or leave behind a legacy to help inspire others to do better after it. Something the humans in this world sadly never learned."
The others all looked at each other and nodded upon hearing Sandbar's words. Maybe there wasn't anything they could do to help the world they learned about, but maybe there was a chance to make sure that what happened there never happened here.
"Well, we better get ready for a long night of writing because there is a lot to cover," Ocellus said as she levitated her notes. "Good thing I wrote as much as I could."
"Can we get grub first?" Yona rubbed her stomach. "Yona hungry."
"Yeah, I could have a go for a meal too," Gallus said as he got up onto his feet. "Let's head to Sugarcube Corner and get out of this room for some sunlight."
The others agreed as they made for the door, but the door stayed still upon wrapping his claw around the doorknob and turning it. Gallus blinked before turning it again. The others looked at him in confusion as the griffin struggled to turn the doorknob. "Come on, already! Let's go! Open the door!" Smolder said, tapping her foot on the floor.
"I'm...trying...but...the door... won't...open!" Gallus growled as he grit his teeth and tried moving them as much as possible. After a few more minutes, he gave up while rubbing the sweat off his brow. "Ugh, did someone glue the door shut?"
"Ugh, stand aside and let a dragon handle this," Smolder proclaimed as she pushed him aside and gripped the knob as hard as she could. She then started pulling, pushing, and twisting as much as possible, but no matter how hard the dragon tried, she couldn't get it to move either.
"Of for the love of fire rubies!" Taking a deep breath, Smolder let out a blast of dragon fire while the other five hit the deck. However, when the flames died down, instead of a burned and ashed door, it stood the same perfect look without a scratch on it.
"Wha....what?!" Smolder gasped in shock as she touched the door. "Um, that shouldn't have happened."
"Did you guys get fireproof doors?" Ocellus asked Sandbar and Gallus.
"No," Sandbar said before rubbing his chin. "At least, I don't think so."
"Yona try next! YAK SMASH DOOR!!!"
Having experienced this multiple times before, all five of Yona's friends quickly jumped out of the way of the charging yak, who ran as fast as she could with her head down low. However, upon the impact of the charge, a dark purple shield of energy bounced Yona off the door and sent her flying halfway across the room, much to her friends' horror.
"Yona!" Silverstream shouted as she flew over to their dazed friend first while the others soon surrounded her. "Are you okay?!"
"Uh, yak's head hurt..." Yona groaned.
"Hey! Look!" Ocellus said as the door started to glow again, but a strange symbol appeared on it this time, much to their confusion.
"A-Anyone know what that means?" Silverstream asked with a gulp.
"Hey, if some flankhole is messing with us! Stop it right now!" Gallus shouted as he looked around for whoever was causing this.
Suddenly, they heard the orb making sounds and turned around to see it glowing purplish-black for a moment before it reactivated, but what appeared on the screen was something very different:
"Tamriel. Dawn's Beauty in the language of the Altmer, or Taazokaan in the dragon's tongue, is the content in which all the Elder Scrolls games take place. Home to many diverse races, and even more conflicts, Tamriel has been host to many adventures. You've experienced Tamriel in your own way, but want to learn more about its story. Well, to get to the heart of the story, you have to go back to the beginning..."
