After the Battle of Burnside, the North Equestrian Alliance reveled in their victory, but they also soon got to work. Never again could something like this be allowed to happen. Across Vanhoover, the last NLC pockets were rooted out with the help of Boring. The same thing would soon begin in Stalliongrad with the help of the Old Guard. After a few days, it became evident that the combined armies were no longer needed, so the Stalliongrad forces returned to their own city to clean things up there. The residents of New Sundale moved back into their homes and began to rebuild the settlement for a second time. I sincerely hoped that the settlement would never have to be emptied again. As the first settlement in the Wasteland that had taken me in, I had a nostalgic fondness for it.

During this time, my friends and I helped wherever we could, but we also had to spend a lot of time recuperating. Rare and I were in pretty poor shape after the Battle of Burnside. The radiation around the settlement had rejuvenated Zherana from the few injuries she’d taken, but the two of us had been excessively injected with healing potions and other alchemical concoctions during the battle, and our bodies needed time to naturally restore themselves. It was nice to get some time to finally relax, though I knew the respite couldn’t last forever.

An unfortunate thing that came out of our down time was that Rare Sparks discovered a flaw in my power armor. Shining Armor’s personal suit had been a prototype and never really tested in the battlefield conditions I’d put it through, so it was understandable, but still disappointing. Locked away in a vault for a hundred and fifty years, it had remained pristine, but now that I’d taken it out and damaged it, it was struggling to properly repair itself. The armor had the same abilities of any other suit of Steel Ranger armor, able to use scrap to repair any damage, but each time it repaired itself, it got a little bit weaker. It was nothing to be overly concerned about, but it meant that there would come a time when the armor would no longer be worth wearing, and Rare thought the spell that would even allow me to lift it might one day cease working. As unfortunate as the news was, at least we discovered it now and not in the middle of a battle.

Hopefully there wouldn’t be too much more fighting in my future. Once the NLC was taken care of, maybe I could retire in one of the properties I’d purchased for the group throughout Vanhoover and live off the caps that Burnside still owed me. It might be nice, but also boring. After spending the last six-and-a-half months running around the Wasteland, I wasn’t sure how I’d adjust. Before that, though, there was still one last big battle I knew had to be fought.

A week after the Battle of Burnside, I went before the delegates of the North Equestrian Alliance in Capital City. The eleven of them looked very official, though that was mostly due to the room they were gathered in. While I’d been away in Stalliongrad, a lot of work had been done to turn a conference room in the MAS Hub into a room fit for very important ponies. A semicircular table had been dug up from somewhere so that the delegates could all sit on one side and look inward at whoever was speaking to them—in this case, me.

“We’ve won a great victory at Burnside, yes, but we cannot stop now while we have the advantage,” I said, “We must prepare for an invasion of the other locations where the NLC has taken hold: Northern Cross, Frostpoint, and Sat-Con.”

Besides me and the delegates, there were several other ponies seated in the rows of folding chairs behind me. The NEA delegates were drawing up all kinds of procedural rules, but most of the time anypony who wanted to could sit in on their meetings to see what was going on in the alliance. Besides my friends, there were a few assorted ponies who were curious or just had nowhere better to be on their break from renovating the MAS Hub.

“They’re on the run now. Why should we pursue them?” Screech, the delegate from Tartarus, asked.

“You know how quickly it took them to grow from nothing into that force that attacked Burnside,” I said, “The Northern Lights Coalition is like a plague, and if it isn’t stamped out entirely, then it’ll just keep resurging.”

“Is that your medical opinion, Wasteland Doctor?” Major Scepter, the Crimson Tide’s—now the Defenders’—delegate asked wryly, and a couple of the other representatives chuckled, “Surely we have some time before they rebuild.”

“We do,” I admitted, “But we should still begin preparing. It’s better to strike them now while they’re weakened than wait until we have to face another army.”

“How do we know there’s anypony left at Sat-Con?” Victory Sign, the Old Guard delegate, asked, “The army we defeated may have been all they have.”

“It’s possible, but I don’t think so,” I said, “They would have kept some in reserve if they were smart.”

“Even if we do attack Northern Cross and Frostpoint, what about Sat-Con?” Sediment, the County of Rain’s representative, asked, “It’s in the Frozen North, surrounded by blizzards. It was hard enough for Stalliongrad’s settlements to move an army to Vanhoover. Moving them through that will be nearly impossible.”

“We’ll need heavy winter weather equipment,” I said, “Surely there is some around, and if not, Frostpoint is sure to provide. The power armor left behind by the Storm Guard will also do.”

“We can’t form an army just from the power armor we have, especially when much of it is damaged,” Major Scepter objected.

“All the better to attack soon,” I said, though I saw that I wasn’t swaying the delegates, “I will scout areas out to get a better feel for things. Will you begin preparations in the meantime?”

It was a narrow decision, but the resolution passed. The North Equestrian Alliance settlements would prepare to strike the Northern Lights Coalition at their heart. I wasn’t sure how quickly they’d move, though. I did intend to scout out the regions fully under NLC control, but I hoped that it would be with some help. If not from the Stalliongrad army currently on its way home, then I did have one other card I could play.

The line of towers along the railroad between Vanhoover and Stalliongrad was coming along nicely, I noticed on our trip to the eastern city. Progress had halted during the preparations to defend from the NLC army, but it was ongoing again now that they’d been crushed. It would still take some time to complete, but within a month or two, the settlements in Stalliongrad and Vanhoover would be able to communicate practically instantaneously.

The NEA army, when we’d met up with them, hadn’t been thrilled to hear my plan to attack Northern Cross, Frostpoint, and Sat-Con, but they had been receptive. They admitted that it would be necessary to crush the NLC with finality so it couldn’t return, but they were also justifiably concerned about their homes. The Ponies’ Republic of Stalliongrad hadn’t simply disappeared while we were dealing with the NLC, and they were as much a threat to the Stalliongrad settlements as the other. According to Sage’s observations (and reassuring radio announcements as DJ Pon3), the PRS had not moved against the Stalliongrad settlements while they were away. They seemed content to focus on building their new fields where Railyard had once stood.

We preceded the North Equestrian Alliance forces to Stalliongrad and skirted the city, not intending to be held up by another PRS ambush because I didn’t bring back anti-machine bullet molds for the Chairmare and had insulted her representative. Perhaps that had been unwise, especially if we could’ve gotten the PRS on our side against the NLC. They’d made it very clear before that they didn’t find the NLC a threat, though, so it was probably pointless to believe that a wasted opportunity. They wouldn’t help us take out Sat-Con, and the NEA wasn’t ready to take that step yet, so we headed north to Stable 137.

“Wasteland Doctor, it is good to see you. Do you bring us good news?” Crimson Lance greeted us within the Stable, his mane doing that strange wavy thing it tended to do.

“Perhaps, but there are two parts to it,” I said, and the alicorn looked at me quizzically, “You know the favor you owe me? I think I want to call it in. The Northern Lights Coalition is on the retreat, but we need to finish it off quickly, and the North Equestrian Alliance is unready. I want you and your alicorns to help finish them off.”

“I see; and the second part?” Crimson Lance asked.

“The headquarters of the NLC is far to the north, in the Ruins of the Old World,” I said, “It’s called Sat-Con, and it’s built in a bunker in the middle of a perpetual blizzard beyond a magical fence. I think there’s a good chance that the distance, the bunker, and maybe even the windigo fence might provide you long-term safety from the Goddess.”

“I see,” Crimson Lance said, “Well, what can I say?”

“Say you’ll help us,” Sage said as she turned away from the window of the Overmare’s office where she’d been staring down in wonder at the many different alicorns down in the atrium, “Doc has told me about the problem your people face. This is a chance to save them, and to help the rest of the Wasteland.”

“Of course,” Crimson Lance said, “I believe you misunderstood my intentions. You come asking for aid, but you also offer our salvation. How peculiar, that such a fine thing could occur in this broken world. Thank you, Wasteland Doctor.”

It was bizarre to be bowed to by an alicorn, even if I knew that he wasn’t truly a god like Celestia and Luna. I still didn’t know what to make of the Stalliongrad alicorns, but I was glad they were on our side. The Northern Lights Coalition wasn’t going to know what hit them. No matter how Lord Lamplight—I—or my successors had prepared, they certainly wouldn’t be expecting an army of pseudo-goddesses. Would anypony in their right mind?

We took the Clinic east, following the route that had led me to that first critical meeting with Clear Rivers and the revelation of my identity. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any reality-shattering revelations this time. All around the Clinic flew or galloped the alicorns, easily keeping pace and sometimes running ahead and waiting for us to catch up. It was an unbelievable sight to behold with so many of them flying around in one place. Surely anypony who lived out here who saw them wouldn’t believe their eyes.

We reached Northern Cross three days after leaving Stalliongrad, and found the entire complex empty except for some abandoned slaves. We set them free so that they could help themselves to the food and drink their masters had also left behind before continuing north. The slaves had been sure that was where at least some of the slavers had gone. Others had gone west, but they had been part of the NLC army that attacked Burnside and were no longer our concern.

Frostpoint was much the same story as Northern Cross. The entire town seemed abandoned, as did the Crystal Empire. Apart from the crystal ghouls, which we avoided by only entering the city while the sun was still out, the streets were empty even of the normal ghouls that lived in the Emerald City. After paying our respects to where Roaring Thunder was sealed in the street, we headed north again.

Sage bundled herself up well before we left the Clinic behind at the windigo fence and entered the perpetual blizzard on the other side. The alicorns were an invaluable help out here, making our way far easier than the first time with their magic. We four non-alicorns were able to travel within a bubble of protection cast by a few of them, completely safe from blowing snow, egregious cold, and windigo attacks. The alicorns had no trouble cutting the creatures down, and some even hunted them for sport. The windigos mostly left us alone after that started.

There was also a benefit for our pseudo-divine companions in the trip itself. As soon as we crossed the windigo fence, many of them reported that the voice of the Goddess had gone completely silent. During our days of travel, they waited for it to return, but it never did. It seemed the fence itself would block the Goddess’s telepathy completely, something all the alicorns were grateful for.

Northern Cross, Frostpoint, and even the villages at Solidarity and Unicornica were abandoned, as all the NLC ponies that had lived in them had moved to Sat-Con for a final stand. We were going to give it to them, and by “we,” I mostly meant the alicorns. I located the entrance to Sat-Con that wouldn’t require us to stay in the Stable where everypony had sacrificed each other to stay alive, and the alicorns descended on the base like a plague. In the aftermath, it looked like their passing had been surgical, eliminating all the fighters but leaving those who had simply been seeking some stability in an unstable Wasteland. I was somewhat pleased, but also knew that those who’d once been part of the NLC could one day try to bring it about again. Crimson Lance said that anypony who wanted to stay here and live with them would be welcome, and they’d bring the others south. The North Equestrian Alliance would have to keep a close eye on them, but I couldn’t just execute unarmed ponies who didn’t seem to have any will to fight. How much of that was a preexisting lack of aggression and how much was because they had just seen their stronghold taken over by alicorns, I didn’t know, but I had to give them the benefit of the doubt.

After the fighting was all over, I found my way to the control room by myself. Clear Rivers hadn’t been one of the surrendered or dead, so he probably wasn’t here. With any luck, he was one of the dead outside Burnside or, more likely, was hiding out with one of the remaining groups trying to avoid the NEA. Either way, he was out of the picture, just like Mr. Bucke before him. It seemed so long ago that I’d tried to decipher Mr. Bucke’s communications and determine who the other leaders of the NLC were. LORD was Lord Lamplight, the pony I’d once been. BARON was Clear Rivers, a pony who’d been devoted to Lord Lamplight and hoped one day to be at his side when he became Prince of Equestria. That just left one other: PALADIN. Mr. Bucke was dead, BARON was missing, LORD had become me, but PALADIN was still here.

“Are you proud of what you’ve done?” the speakers in the control room asked in my voice, “Are you proud now that you’ve undone everything you built because you couldn’t accept yourself?”

I looked up at the screen that dominated the wall, where the flickering image of Lord Lamplight was displayed. Paladin: a supercomputer that could store the imprint of a pony’s mind. Lord Lamplight had wanted a second him, but why? To take his place when he became me? From what I’d seen, Paladin had been around before that decision had been made, and there were already differences between Lord Lamplight and this copy.

“You’re wrong,” I told Paladin, “I did accept myself, and I decided that Lord Lamplight was not who I wanted to be anymore.”

“You rejected your purpose!” the face accused, skipping frames as it moved, “Lord Lamplight was rebuilding Equestria and you undid everything, like a petulant foal knocking over a tower of cans because they wanted to build it themselves. You think your North Equestrian Alliance will fare any better than the Frostpoint Alliance? You think it will do any better than the myriad failed attempts to rebuild what was while limiting yourself? The Northern Lights Coalition was going to be better. We realized that raiders, slavers, and all the other scum of the Wasteland will always be around. You can either fight against them and lose, or you can use them, control them. You have doomed yourself by rejecting them.”

“I don’t believe that, and you know what? I don’t think that Lord Lamplight believed that in the end either,” I said, coming to a revelation, “I think he realized what the Northern Lights Coalition was becoming, saw his mistake, and that’s why he had his memories wiped and became me. I don’t think he ever intended for me to come back and lead you against the settlements I gained the trust of.”

“Is that what you think, or are you trying to repair the image of a pony you despised for so long just to save your own sorry soul?” Paladin asked, “It’s a bit late for that, now that you rejected him and tried to do everything in your power not to become him again. What if you are still playing into his plans? What if he planned all along for the Northern Lights Coalition to gather enough raiders and slavers together that the ‘decent’ settlements of the Wasteland would have to band together and face them, and could then crush them in a single large battle? If you were still carrying out the plan, what would you think then?”

“Was that the plan all along?” I asked, “You would know better than I.”

“Of course it wasn’t!” Paladin raged, “We were supposed to build something! We were supposed to build Equestria!”

“Including raiders and slavers in this was a bad idea,” I said, “I saw it happen to the NLC from the outside. They’re like a disease without a cure. For every raider that you might be able to rehabilitate to live a decent life, there are a hundred who revel in the madness of the Wasteland and only want to kill, rape, and destroy. I saw the result of your attempts to make a civilization from raiders, and all you did was eliminate the good ponies. I saw Timbervale reduced from a fine settlement to a raider den, and I never got to see some of the other settlements that might have had a chance had the NLC not stepped in to ‘save’ them. You were eaten from the inside.”

“A disease?” the image of Lord Lamplight sneered, “Have you embraced clichés, Wasteland Doctor?”

“I am the Wasteland Doctor,” I embraced the name, “I didn’t accept it at first. I thought it was a silly title that DJ Pon3 had picked just because I happened to have left Stable 85 wearing a doctor’s coat. That probably was the reason I was given the name, but it’s not the reason I’m the Wasteland Doctor. It’s not because of the coat; it’s because my purpose is to heal the Wasteland. All the wounds inflicted by the Northern Lights Coalition, all the wounds visited upon settlements by each action or inaction, I’ve devoted myself to healing them. That is why I am the Wasteland Doctor.”

“Very touching,” Paladin said sarcastically, “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re doomed. Do you really think your little support group of settlements will be able to stand against the threats the Wasteland will throw at it? The Ponies’ Republic of Stalliongrad? The Grand Pegasus Enclave? Do you believe something as small as the North Equestrian Alliance can survive them?”

“I do,” I said as I left the control room.

As I was walking the hallways of Sat-Con, Crimson Lance somehow managed to sneak up on me. I suspected magic was involved, but had no way to confirm it.

“Thank you for your help,” I told the alicorn.

“Thank you for bringing us to this new home,” Crimson Lance replied, “We are in your debt, but perhaps, in some small way, I can repay it with this.”

“What’s this?” I asked as I took a datatape from his magical grip.

“A recording made by my mother on the Last Day,” Crimson Lance replied, “I think it will be of interest to you.”

“Thank you,” I said, tucking the datatape in my saddlebags, though I wasn’t sure what in it could interest me, “I hope you alicorns are able to build a life here away from the Goddess.”

“I think we will,” Crimson Lance said before gliding away.

“It’s the end, and yet it’s not. The megaspells have fallen. Equestria is in ruin. Yet I, you, and thousands of others survived in the Stables. Resolute—that’s your father—and I hoped to raise you in Vanhoover, but that’s not how things worked out. I was in Stalliongrad when the zebras launched their cowardly attack on Cloudsdale. Before I knew it, I was whisked away to here, Stable 137. This will be your home, Crimson Lance, a city beneath the earth built by Stable-Tec. If only the Ministry of Morale could have gotten control of more of these facilities like the Ministry Mare wanted, we could have installed good, loyal ponies. But why talk about that when there is something to celebrate?”

“Today is your birthday, Crimson Lance. Your very first day in Equestria is the last day Equestria as we know it exists. You will know a far different Equestria. I—I don’t know if I’ll be there for it. The doctors say there might be complications. If I’m not there to raise you, remember your mother, and that she loves you very much. Remember who I am. I am Midnight Aurora, daughter of Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor of the Crystal Empire. You’ll have to keep that a secret, since nopony can know the Empire even exists, but it’s true. Your grandmother is—was—a princess, and your grandfather was the brother of the Ministry Mare of Magic. You’ll do great things, I know it, Crimson Lance. I love you.”

It was a rather personal gift for Crimson Lance to have given me, but he was right that it did interest me. The story of Shining Armor’s family—the Crystal Royals—had mostly been wrapped up through the general’s memory orbs and recordings and our trip into the north, but there were a few loose ends. Shining Armor and his wife Cadence had died in the Crystal Empire, her in the initial attack from the zebras and him in an attack by crystal ghouls. His younger daughter, Sunset Rose, had tried to flee the Empire to the Ruins of the Old World, but her convoy had been destroyed by windigos. Now I knew what had happened to his elder daughter: Midnight Aurora had died in Stable 137, but had also given birth to the pony that would one day lead the Stalliongrad alicorns. That just left Resolute, though I didn’t know that I really cared to find out what had happened to him other than for closure. Everything I’d seen of him both in the past and through his and Midnight Aurora’s home in Bunker Hill painted the picture of a bad pony. Whatever end he met, it probably wasn’t a good one. Or, he could have just entered a Stable and lived out the rest of his life peacefully. Given my luck, I was probably not only Lord Lamplight, but also a descendent of Resolute. It wasn’t unlikely.

After we left Sat-Con, we traveled with those who wanted to build a normal life in the south, protected by alicorns as we made our way through the blizzard. Once past the windigo fence, however, we found the Clinic and made our own way. The alicorns would continue to escort the refugees from Sat-Con as far as they wanted to go (so long as the Goddess didn’t get close to taking over), but my friends and I no longer needed an escort.

At Frostpoint, I was glad to see some Stalliongrad ponies scouting out the town. They were mostly from the Old Guard, with a few from Stallion Hill and the County of Rain thrown in. At least some of the settlements had taken my call to bring the fight to the NLC seriously. We let them know the state of things and that they might need to take some NLC ponies from the alicorns before moving on. Northern Cross was the same, though there were also some Defenders here. Not only Stalliongrad had gotten the message. Fortunately, the NEA armies would not be needed to assault Sat-Con. The Northern Lights Coalition was finally finished. That news brought celebrations in Stalliongrad and Vanhoover for days.

I knew the North Equestrian Alliance couldn’t be discarded just because of that, though. Paladin had spoken of other threats in the Wasteland, powerful threats, and he’d been right about them. The North Equestrian Alliance needed to remain, and it needed to grow stronger if it wished to face future threats. Fighting to end the existence of raiders and slavers in Vanhoover and Stalliongrad was all well and good, and the NLC had done a lot of work for us in gathering them together, but they weren’t the biggest threats the settlements of the Wasteland faced. Those were the Ponies’ Republic of Stalliongrad and the Grand Pegasus Enclave. There was no telling when the latter might do something, but we could keep our eyes on the former and stop them before they made any moves—or so I thought.

Two days after we returned to Burnside, and nearly eight months after I first left Stable 85, word came from the north. An army wearing the colors and flying the flag of the Ponies’ Republic of Stalliongrad had appeared out of nowhere. It seemed the PRS had been paying attention during our fight with the NLC, after all. They’d managed to mobilize and move an army from Stalliongrad to Vanhoover without being spotted by DJ Pon3, though that was partially due to the fact that Sage had been unable to access the SPP towers while we’d been beyond the windigo fence.

For all the secrecy in moving to Vanhoover, they certainly weren’t shy about broadcasting their presence now. From what Sage could see, they set to work immediately building a camp complete with a radio transmitter that soon broadcast propaganda stating that the “Ponies’ Republic of Stalliongrad Expeditionary Force” was here for everypony’s good. They were sending scouts out into Vanhoover, but weren’t currently attacking any settlements. There was one place that they were attacking, though, and I couldn’t ignore it. A smaller camp was set up in Majikland outside of a seemingly unimportant bus station. The Pinks revolted me, but I couldn’t stand by and let Stable 85 be taken over by the PRS. It was time to return to closest thing I had to a birthplace.

[Max Level Reached]
New Quest: Homecoming – Return to Stable 85 and deal with the PRS scouts.