Chapter XIII
Sensitive Information
"You must go into this with both eyes open. Once started, there's no going back."

Um. Why are you staring at me like that?

Heh. Nothing. It's just... nice remembering all this stuff. After all the shit we've been through, who knew we'd end up like this, you know? Alive. And well. We know peace, and it seems real. Tell me that's not something that deserves a moment of appreciation from time to time.

Well yes, I suppose so. It's quite... surreal, isn't it?

Among other adjectives, yeah. So, wanna get back to it? Recording, I mean. We've had a long enough break.

Yeps. So, taking off from the previous chapter, I was taking down notes, logging the day down on paper. Eventually I fell asleep though. I had wounds to heal and all that, and a tired body is no good catalyst for thought. We'll have to take things from your perspective.

Well, sure. I woke up early in the morning. Lifted my head up, looked around. Everything was chilly, but manageable I guess. The winds outside howled on, though less furiously than the day before. The gloom that comes with a dark sky had lessened, too, so I had hope of seeing the sun. Back in Equestria -- you know, when I was in the Enclave -- I made it a habit to start each day off with a morning stretch a glide towards the sun. Feel the heat on me. I hadn't gotten to do that yet in the Zebrican wasteland for obvious reasons. Survival and caution became our top priority.

So what changed? You were finally given some social security and suddenly things were back to normal?

Hah! I wish. No no. See, 'normalcy' wasn't a thing for me anymore. Normalcy was... shit, I don't know. It was waking up each day on a fluffy cloud, seeing the sun rise in the east. The sky's a dark orange, and everything casts a long shadow. I'd trot around before giving my wings a good flap, and finally I'd haul my flank over to our training grounds. That was normal. What I was doing in Roam, well, it was... trying to establish something solid. Something that, if done long enough, could be my new normal. Admittedly, things were going pretty damn well. Vesperius was a good guy and helped jumpstart things. I was grateful for that.

So why perform an old habit in a new place? Honestly, I think it was because I was cooped up in some cramped husk of a restaurant for almost a full day. Didn't sit well with me. So I got up and stretched, really working myself up until I felt the blood pumping to my head. Good stuff. Then I stepped toward the exit, careful not to step over Goldwreath and all his stuff. He was packing the most items among us, what with his shield, and all his guns, and his saddlebags...

Mm, he takes the Marian philosophy to heart.

The what?

Ah. Well, it's the idea developed by a guy named Marius, back in our republican days. He made each soldier their own baggage-carrier, reducing dependence on third-party logistics. Good for soldier's fitness, kept their minds sharp if they didn't wanna lose anything... the sort.

Bleh. Sounds like more work than's necessary to me, but hey, whatever works I guess. Makes areas cluttered though, which disagrees with me. Sorry, but when you've got wings, you kinda wanna keep the load to a minimum. The propensity to lose stuff in-flight is high, otherwise.

Anyway, so I walked out into the main space of the building, and right there, sitting underneath a blown-out windowframe, was this massive... guy. Or thing. Shit, I don't know. I could've mistaken it for an ancient suit of derelict power armor if it didn't look like it was for some supersized zebra or pony, and if it wasn't moving. Its huge hooves were delicately gliding over the sides of a knife.

A moment of shock made way for my combat instincts. I crouched into a fighting stance, my plasma rifles primed and glowing. "Alright you. Turn around real slow and keep your hooves where I can see 'em. Then back out that way, nice and easy..."

It turned to face me, cocking its head sideways. The cracked glass visor looked me over with calm sluggishness. A short silence between the two of us as I held back squeezing the trigger. Then in Predator's voice it spoke: "Good morning, Skyfire. It is reassuring to see your cautious side. Last night you three made little effort to hide the signs of your presence. Perhaps luck will favor us later, after all."

I lowered my guns. "Predator?" I blinked and looked him over. Damn . He was massive. I rubbed the sides of my head. "Dude, you been drinking protein shakes or something? Cause I gotta say, I've seen some fit guys. Been with some fit guys. But geez..." I shook my head and snickered. "By Celestia, how's someone so big so good at keeping himself unseen? Or maybe it was just real dark last night? Yeah, maybe it was that."

He chuckled. "Ah, there it is. Few people like to point out my size. It's obvious, after all, is it not? Why dwell on something obvious -- and considering the self-serving nature of many a wastelander, few people would care too much. People nowadays look out for themselves; anything out of the ordinary is even more dangerous than what is known, and should be ignored if it can be done."

He stood and sheathed the knife within one of several scabbards strapped to his side. "But it seems you're not like that." He took in a deep breath and nodded. "A refreshing feeling it is, after many awkward and quiet encounters. Sometimes a little icebreaker would've been most welcome... and I don't mind my size being the focus of such a conversation. It is a physical trait and is of little emotional value."

Then he looked straight at me. "Well, I'm sure you didn't come here to discuss anything with me. You must've been on your way to do something." His helmet looked from side to side. Even though he didn't seem to have any intent on harming me, I stepped back anyway. Just to be safe. "From the lack of proper gear for our journey, I'm guessing you were hoping to perform a casual activity of some sort. Morning walk?"

"Morning flight," I corrected.

"Mmm." He shook his head. "Wisdom doesn't bless that idea. I know not your level of wasteland exposure. All people have their times of maturity. The standard things -- first kill, first breakdown, first rampage. Spend enough time listening to such people tell their stories and you become accustomed to it. You can... see the looks on them. Goldwreath has just recently tasted of the wasteland's ferocity, I believe. Poor thing. And you? Well, either you're very naive or you just don't care. Either is a detriment to your safety and health. It's a hazardous world out there."

I hung my head and sighed. "I got restless. It's in my blood." I shrugged, then smiled. "Trust me, you aren't the first to point my stupid tendencies out. Some things about us we can't change even if you know better, I guess. You could say it's in my soul or something."

That gave him pause. "The soul? Yes. Perhaps." He clicked his tongue. "I've always found the concept and properties of the soul to be most intriguing. It is... an aspect of ourselves that defines ourselves. An overruling fundamental concept that applies to all consciences." He let out a shaky breath. "It is one of the great mysteries, hm? Ah, long have I sought to uncover the mysteries..."

He gasped and snapped back to face me. "Regardless," he said hurriedly, as if trying to avoid the conversation heading down that path. "You'll have plenty of motion later today. Your destination is close in terms of distance, but the way is long and hard. The Tiber river floods every few years, decaying the foundations of nearby structures. Many buildings along its banks are ruined and collapsing into the water. You and Goldwreath, you two could fly. But that would leave your zebra friend alone, with me. It is not wise to split if unnecessary, and I'm not sure how an infirmed stranger would take to me. As you must've felt by now, my company is... not particularly soothing."

I wasn't entirely sure if this self-depreciation was common. Or if it was sincere. But hell, the guy seemed to take it well enough that I couldn't feel too bad about playing along.

"Well you do kinda look like the lovechild of a tank and an arms room, so that shouldn't come as a surprise," I joked. I grinned and hoped my attempt at casual talk wouldn't upset him. He just stared at me. My throat dried and I coughed out, "Anyway, I really wouldn't worry too much about Delvius. He's a hard-ass in his own way. But I agree, we shouldn't split. At least it'll give us all a chance to... to bond, right?" I grinned again.

He looked out the window at the wind-blown, gloomy streets. "We'd have to stick close to hold a conversation, which is unwise in urban environments. A single explosive device would take us all out." He sighed. "Which is a shame. I do like talking. Call it a... guilty pleasure, like flying is for you. Hmph." He lowered his head and looked to the ground. From his throat came that odd clicking sound I heard last night.

"Oh well." He straightened up. "What are civilized people if they cannot hold a conversation? Compromises can be made, and for all my warnings of safety and caution I am prone to the same weaknesses as any. I'd rather not dictate a set formation. Let us move there as we will, and be cautious when it becomes immediately necessary. Perhaps the factor of intimidation I seem to posses will deter any attackers; a variable not to be ignored as superficial, mind you. What people see often dictates what they do. And I'd not forbid talk the entire way, regardless. That sounds forlorn, and is the very thing these times would try to pass off as normal and adequate. Not so. We can promote the times before, hm? And the times to come." He looked outside at the blasted ruins. "Better times, I'm sure."

"Sounds good to me. I mean, I'm no idealist, but good is good, you know? Yeah. We can make it work." I smiled and looked outside, too. "You know, who needs morning flights anyway? Honestly it's really just the restlessness in me, but if I could wake up each day to something to look forward to -- you know, direct my energy towards -- I can do without it." I shrugged. "Part of the reason I'm on this mission, I guess. I can't stay still for the life of me."

Predator glanced towards the doorway leading back into the kitchen. He cocked his head sideways. "You're not the only one, it seems," he said. "There are three bodies in there. One's without pulse, the other two were breathing slowly and steadily, indicative of sleep. But not anymore. One is taking deep breaths, trying to be quiet." He snickered. "And now the breathing is rapid and erratic. Shocked. Mm, no need to hide, friend. We're all without... murderous intent here."

I looked over at the doorway. After a second Delvius poked his head out. He smiled bashfully and inched forward with a limp. He had a notebook held to his chest. I rushed over to keep him steady.

"Sorry for eavesdropping," he said. He swallowed as Predator approached.

"Curiosity leads to many actions, eavesdropping chief among those," Predator replied. "And now I find curiosity within me. Why eavesdrop?" He paused for a moment. "Are you frightened?"

"Me? Frightened? Ahahaha... yeah," I admitted. Well, what could I say? I'd woken up early enough to catch most of the convo. I'd wondered where Skyfire here had gone off to, you see. Then I heard what they were saying and thought... 'surely this is worth noting'. I hadn't counted on Predator's senses being as sharp as they were.

Nobody does at first. It's how most of his first meetings are started, remember?

Who could forget?

Well anyway, so there I was. Anyone could notice the journal in my hooves. Predator was eyeing it, then looked to me and waited. The guy was hard to describe. He clearly liked to keep to himself, what with how he kept away from others when he could. But then, if approached, he also opened up. Bit of a dichotomy going on there. I'd taken note of that behavior at the very bottom of one of my journal's pages. Regardless, I could've lied about my intentions, but anyone with a brain would've been able to see past it. I supposed it was better to just speak the truth.

"I've just been... listening is all. And writing." I held the journal out in front of me. "Writing whatever is of interest, anyway. There're people in the world that live for tales. Some that live through those tales. And still some who live to record tales. I think I'm all three. Life is not merely a forward-moving motion, but a correlation between what was, is, and can be. Knowledge is the mortar between these three great bricks, and I believe knowledge should be for all. Thus I write, hoping to inform someone, somehow, someday. They could learn from us."

I cleared my throat. "Of course, I can understand that this illumination can go against the rights to privacy some people have. My apologies. If either of you two desire to be excluded from these notes, you may say so." I fully expected Predator to make use of this clause. But what he said next surprised me.

"No no. It is an agreeable notion, which supersedes the ambitions of individuals. I personally am one for actions directed towards maximum benefit -- all sacrifices and compromises considered. Such a level of forward thinking is most necessary now, no?" He hummed to himself and looked between me and Skyfire. "It is an endeavor most favored by proximity to others of like mind. You two could bring quite a level of change to the world, if you tried hard enough. Same goes for your friend, Goldwreath. Outwardly lives such as yours are rare -- perhaps one every few thousand? -- and without such noble souls all facets of society would've broken down long ago."

Don't hold it against me, but while I was no illiterate, the level of vocabulary these Roamans spoke with sometimes left me confused. I looked to Delvius and asked, "That's... that's a compliment, right? I mean, it feels like a compliment."

"If you count being labelled rare and necessary a compliment, sure," I replied.

"Greatness comes upon people at times not necessarily of their choosing, and often without their permission. You will grow into your roles in time. The cosmos orders it." He stretched his massive legs and rolled his neck.

"And speaking of orders, we ought to proceed with your mission. I find myself developing a personal desire to accompany you; curiosity takes hold of me. What has happened to the Principium Engineering Foundation since I was last there? There is only one way to find out." He looked down at us, and as he did I just I just replayed what he'd said: 'The last time I was there.' Now what was the story behind that?

"Ah yes. Come here for a moment." He vaulted over the nearby counter and bent down, out of sight. Skyfire and I approached. A noisy commotion, and then he stood and placed three grey, fur-lined winter coats before us. The quality of the apparel caught me offguard; surely these were made in a factory somewhere, for the precision and make were beyond even the most skilled hooves.

"These should serve you well until you can acquire more appropriate gear," Predator told us. "Don't expect to be immune to the cold. If in here the chill you feel, out there your bones will go numb. These were made for mobility, first and foremost, and able to be worn underneath even tight suits of armor. Now go and put them on. Wake Goldwreath as well. I will make sure the surrounding area is safe."

He bent down again and slung a heavy-looking black duffel bag over himself. With one hoof he pulled from it a block of folded metal, which promptly extended into a sleek combat rifle. It looked makeshift yet advanced -- perhaps something of his own make? The muzzle of it sparked with electrical current produced by three separate coils. I could feel my fur starting to stand on end.

I whistled. "Fancy hardware you got there. Shoots electrified bullets or something? Or EMP rounds?"

"Lightning, actually," he replied, gazing down at a little screen built into the side of the body. He tapped on the display a few times, and the electrical current increased until the tip of the gun started sizzling and arcing with miniature bolts. Delvius and I stepped back.

"Flashy, heh," I commented. "No pun intended. Seems a bit impractical, though. Why the need for lightning?"

"No need to account for bullet drop. Illumination for dark battlegrounds. And of course, those who do not die cannot fight with a convulsing muscular system. Easy pickings for later on." All this he explained as he drew from the rifle a long wire, which he then connected to a small port at the back of his helmet. When the connection was established, he grunted and his visor glowed red for a quick moment. He let slip a drawn-out growl.

Delvius and I looked to each other.

"Well!" Delvius said. "That's quite fascinating. Anything can be practical if the situation calls for it, and you sure seem to know your stuff. But we should go prepare now. So... see you in a bit!" And he slowly stepped back and slipped into the doorway. I followed him.

"Smooth withdrawal," I smirked.

He gave me an incredulous look. "I've got nothing against the guy, per se. We all have our weirdness, you know? I just need time to get used to his weirdness. I mean... come on, look at him. You aren't freaked out even a little?"

"I've seen worse," I shrugged. "The wasteland's a weird place, Delvius. I know you've seen some shit in Spiderhole, but it gets way stranger, trust me."

"Blergh." He sighed and rubbed a hoof idly over the coat. "Let's just go wake Goldwreath up and get moving."

We made our way back to our little camp and found Goldwreath already up, sitting and rubbing his temples.

"Morning. I assume we'll be heading out soon?" He eyed the coats. "You two already seem prepared."

"Well, we've been up for a while. Predator said we should put these on, so let's get to it boys." I tossed one of the coats over to Goldwreath and began unstrapping my armor. Off the greeves went, then the shoulder pads, and then the chestplate. The fibrous mesh underneath took a little longer, but at last my hide was free. The pleasant coolness I'd felt the whole morning turned into a chilling assault. I shivered and got goosegumps.

I frantically went to putting on the coat. The other two were a lot slower about it, unhurried. In fact, Goldwreath was just eyeing me. He didn't seem to notice I caught him staring. Where was he looking, anyway? My legs? My... flanks?

"Hey... dude. Don't you already have your affections for someone else?" I grinned, but in truth I felt awkward (and flattered, I guess) for being stared at. Goldwreath recoiled and looked aside. Did his cheeks seem redder than they normally were?

"Sorry," he said. "In truth, you really are quite the sight. It's no shame to acknowledge beauty wherever it's found. But it's not just that. I've been the only pegasus I've known for the longest time. Now that I see you, I see... something to compare myself to, I suppose. A standard held by my kind, which I should at least try to understand. I am Roaman, but also a pegasus. How do we conduct ourselves? What do we hold closest to us? Things like that, which I'm trying to gather from the sight of you."

"Well right now all you'll gather from me is that I'm cold and -- apparently -- 'quite the sight'." I smiled and continued putting the coat on, but slowly; I could still feel his eyes on me. No harm indulging a stallion's natural want for eye-candy, I guess. "But really, put that coat on. Aren't you cold?"

"Just a bit. I suppose we Roamans are used to this climate. I myself came from the chilled confines of a fallout shelter, so coldness is no stranger to me."

Delvius stepped forward, looking comfortable in his warm coat and armor. "Well, good for you. I only grew up hearing of the cold winters; I never experienced them, and the caves were warm and sometimes hot, so I've had no chance to accustom myself to these temperatures." He took in a deep breath and let it out. "Ah. This is much better. Amazing how comfy these are." He shimmied his legs happily.

The ground shuddered slightly. Predator came down the hallway. He had his lightning-gun brandished, and its presence ionized the air and had our fur standing on end. He looked us over.

"What a sight this is. Like foals getting ready to play in the snow." He chuckled. We looked to each other questioningly. He stopped. "No, really. This reminds me of fonder times."

"What fonder times could that be?" Goldwreath asked as he put on the coat. "Can't imagine there'd ever have been any foals playing outside in these days."

"Well, you'd be correct. It is dangerous to go outside, even as a contingent or in a group. But I was not referring to these days. I meant before the war -- and actually, during, too. Life was not on hold until the bombs dropped."

We stopped and looked to him. He just stood and returned our stares.

"Were... were you around? Back then?" I asked. After a short delay, he nodded. My eyes widened. "Wow."

Goldwreath was shaking his head. "That... that can't be. You'd have to be about two centuries worth of age. How...?"

Predator looked behind him, down the hall. The light flowing in from outside was getting brighter. He turned back to us and gestured over his shoulder with a hoof. "May I explain as we move? Time is not ours to spend idly."

For my part at the very least, I was immensely excited. I'd long heard of the 'walking dead', as Imperius had called them -- people from before that somehow survived the bombs and, through sorcery or other means, had achieved long lives. I'd never met one; they were always turned away at our gates. Lost opportunities, I felt, but it was not my place to speak up. Still, I had now an image of what was beneath Predator's helmet: a disfigured individual, scarred by decades of wasteland life and trauma. What experience he must have had. How much knowledge he housed... ah! Amazing. I had to tap into that immense wealth, somehow. What stories he could tell.

I looked to the others and was pleased to see them quickening their preparations. "Come on guys, daylight's burning," I said, perhaps too excitedly, for Skyfire gave me a smirk and an eyeroll.

Your excitement was just so precious. Innocent Delvius... just like me, when I first met the walking dead... er, ghouls. In Equestria we call them ghouls. So yeah, I was freaked out, but that passed and I wanted nothing but to ask questions and get answers. After a while, though, I realized most of them were just sad. They wanted their lives back, but that wouldn't happen, so they just went on with things, hoping for improvement. When Predator nodded, I just thought... 'Poor bastard.' I didn't wish that fate on anyone. Sources of knowledge, sure, great, but... what a life they must've had.

It is a curse, I suppose. But a blessing, too. We must look past the misfortunes of the few and look to the prosperity of the many. For the greater good and all that; you know how I'm like.

Hah, you and almost every Roaman I know. Good for you guys, though. It's a good mindset. Even the bandits here at least have some principle, and honor. If the Equestrian wasteland had that... I still wonder how you guys do it.

You'd have to be Roaman to understand, I'm afraid.

Good thing I'm working on that, then.

Anyway, so the three of us got ourselves outfitted and made sure we didn't leave anything behind. When I finished I joined Delvius over near the doorway where Predator was. Goldwreath approached us, then stopped and looked over at the body.

"It doesn't feel right just leaving him here," Goldwreath said. "It was no small source of discomfort sleeping with a corpose nearby, too. It's not appropriate to end in such a way, with no... closure."

"Mm. He'll get closure," Predator interjected. I raised a brow and looked up at him. "Bodies in these places get scavenged and stripped, but also burried or cremated. It is a practical measure taken by even the most callous scavengers. There are times of the year up here, when the air is most humid and the skies dark, when plague and disease swell up. Bodies take months to fully decompose. Few would risk such an incubator being around when the sick days roll in. Also, it hides the fact that activity took place nearby. Most bandit groups would want to remain unseen. In your walk here, did you notice any signs of them? Perhaps not, and that is how they like it. They operate in the shadows, using the desolate places as bases of operation. It has worked out for them."

"You seem to know quite a lot," Delvius said. "Not surprising, given your... your vast experience and knowledge. I'm titillated. Please, do tell us more."

"On the way to our destination," Predator replied plainly. "Which we should start heading to. Are you satisfied, Goldwreath? Will you leave the dead now?"

Goldwreath took one more look at the corpse. He sighed and nodded. He joined us and we headed down the hall leading back outside.

"You don't seem okay with it," I pointed out. He perked up and looked me in the eyes before averting his gaze.

"The harshness of it just bothers me still. But I'll get used to it, I suppose." Again, he looked at me, this time with a sort of desperate need in his voice. "I will, yes? You've been in my position before. These realities disturb me, but... they'll not at some point, right?"

I winced. "Eh, well I'm not totally over these things yet. And it's been years, mind you. I think people never really get over all of it completely. We can always be bothered, you know? In fact I think it's good that we remain bothered. Gives us reason to make things better, and shows that we still have some sense of right and wrong. So I mean, yeah, it ain't pleasant to be bothered... but it's a good sign? Like, as long as we don't let ourselves slip and go insane and stuff."

He gave me a long look and then the faintest of smiles, which faded quickly. He said nothing else.

Once back outside, on the streets, wham! The cold hit me like a brick wall, and it seeped in through the tiniest gaps in my clothing, slowly numbing my flesh. I mean, I could handle it, but geez. Back in Equestria it rarely ever got this cold, even up in the clouds. We could see each other's breaths, and from the looks on the others' faces I could tell they weren't expecting this, either.

"Air's, ah... got quite a nip, heh," Delvius said through chattering teeth. "How are you two handling this? Honestly, I'm a bit excited. I've never felt this before. It's amazing, really. If these were better times I'd sit outside all day just to experience it."

Goldwreath nodded. "It's quite alright, really. Reminds me of home. But it's much stronger." He swallowed and shuddered. "I'll get used to it. Still... perhaps I should've sat around the fire while I could. I trust you'll be alright? Would that leg keep you from keeping up?"

Delvius brushed the question aside with a smirk. "What, this? Nah. As long as we're not galloping, anyway."

Goldwreath gave him a nod and pat on the shoulder. Then they both looked to me. "Skyfire?" he asked. "How're you holding up to Roam's climate?"

I just smiled widely. They turned to each other and nodded in understanding.

"Well, hang in there. We'll get warmer clothes soon enough, eh?" Delvius said comfortingly.

"If you three are done with the banter," Predator called from up ahead, "We should get moving."

On my helmet went. The visor lit up with a digitalized view of the world around me. We hurried after him, and as we neared Predator broke into a jog. Delvius fell in beside him, and I watched with concern for a moment; he managed to keep the limping to a minimum though, and didn't seem to be in much pain. So I focused on our pacing and formation, and kept a distance between me and them. Meanwhile Goldwreath watched our rear. He had his shield ready, and scanned the buildings as we cantered along.

For some time, we kept quiet. We made our way towards our objective with speed, stalking through the ruins and keeping to the shadows, creeping through tight spaces and desolate ruins. There was nothing. Not a sign of life or habitation. I suppose I was grateful the bandits of Roam kept to themselves, unlike the raiders back in Equestria who prowled the wastes, always seeking some target to loot or murder. Insular, organized groups were just as dangerous as roving mobs, though. Anyone with intelligence can turn it towards cruelty.

Delvius eyed the ruins and voiced my thoughts. "You know, the city doesn't seem as ruined as you'd expect from a balefire war. I'd have thought there'd be more communities. Or at least... you know, people. Bandit or otherwise. I get that most folks would want to keep out of sight, but people need sunlight. Surely they wouldn't make permanent dwellings underground. That's just depressing. So what gives?" He looked to our armored guide. "Predator?"

"You'd be surprised," Predator replied plainly. "I will expound upon that answer if you so wish, and am willing to partake in limited conversation after we cross this hurdle here. Look."

I hadn't noticed until then, but apparently we'd been gradually climbing a low hill for the last few hundred meters. The wide, four-way intersection we came across caught us by surprise. We stopped. Predator leaned forward, glancing this way and that, before staring at the wide road before him. The winds, which had been blocked for most of our journey by the wall of ruined structures off to our side, now showed their full force, blowing up dust clouds and caused small pieces of debris to roll over the concrete. Predator took a breath and looked back at us. Giving a gesture to follow, he galloped forward. Delvius put a hoof over my shoulder for support, and we went in. Goldwreath went last.

By Celestia, was the wind strong! I would've loved nothing more than to spread my wings and glide effortlessly along the currents, but as it was it was like being slapped in the face, again and again, nonstop. So this was what ground dwellers went through. We crouched low, and Goldwreath, seeing our struggle, burdened himself to protect us with his shield. Under that protection we were able to make it to the other side, where Predator had stopped to wait for us. Overhead, old antenna towers creaked and hollowed-out windows funneled the air into howling currents.

I laid Delvius against a pile of rubble and collapsed next to him. "I can't feel my legs," I said. They were like blocks of ice, numb and without feeling. "H-how much longer? How much f-farther?" I asked through chattering teeth.

Goldwreath pulled out his black device and gave it a few taps. "Our destination is about seven miles off." He let out a cold breath, then irritatedly wiped the condensation off the surface of his device. "Seven miles of creeping through rubble and keeping our heads low, and freezing in this cold..." He looked over to Predator. "We're putting ourselves under your guidance. Surely you know the way?"

"It's straightforward. Down this highway and then across a bridge. Not much longer. It will be necessary, however, to stop and rest as travel takes its toll." His helmet turned to Delvius. The zebra winced and took deep breaths, massaging his injured leg. "This time seems as good as any, I suppose. We must remain vigilant, of course, and make sure we are not being stalked."

His gaze went between the three of us, all panting and shivering in varying degrees. "Danger comes from weakness as well, of course. Surely you're not all frozen already, hm?"

"We'll get by," I chimed in. "This is the kind of life we signed up for. Well, I speak for myself, anyway. I don't know about these two, but this is exactly the sort of thing I was envisioning when I got myself involved in all this. Quite thrilling, really. Nothing makes a guy feel more alive than the constant threat of death, I think. And for those who live, and I like to think I will, there's reward. Knowledge and other boons. I wouldn't mind a bit of power, too." I chuckled and held my chest. "Still wouldn't mind a rest though."

For where he would direct the conversation, I would be grateful. "Well, you'll get your rest, then. And hmm... knowledge to you is really quite the boon, hm? Alongside power or wealth? What a curious mind you must have; perhaps the most curious among us." He glanced to the other two. "After all, you seem to be the only one eagerly pushing for me to spill. I must appear a large book to you."

"A large, golden book, yes."

Predator nodded, and then observed our surroundings. He approached a huge block of concrete and, with one hoof, pulled it close. Then he did so with another. Afterwards, he turned a derelict vehicle onto its side. His strength was fascinating to behold. The result of his efforts was a makeshift shelter of sorts, shielding us from the wind and unfriendly eyes. Then he sat down opposite to Skyfire and I. Goldwreath moved to the mouth of our debris barricade and set his shield down to stand guard.

"I may as well be enthusiastic towards your curiosity, lest you become irksome and irritate me. Better to accept fate than deny it. You would've taken this opportunity to question me anyway, I think," our dark-clad guide said. "I must admit I'd long wondered what it would be like to confess of myself. I have not spoken of the past to one so eager for... ever. Will I choke up as I recall things? Will I pause with reminiscence? It has been so long, and I believe I have gotten over ill feelings and thoughts. The things I know were secret back then, when people had the luxury to keep secrets. Now though, I could spill and there would be no war to lose or win. So... ask, then."

I grinned and rubbed my hooves together. My mind flashed with images of the exploits he was sure to have undergone. What wonders he could speak. All of it golden, I was sure. Ah, how thrilling must've been the words to come!

"You have my gratitude," I said. "Now, where... where to begin, even?" My body was trembling from the excitement... or was it the cold? Hm. "Ah! Let's start from the top, hm?" I suggested. "You were actually alive back then. Astonishing. How is that? And don't take offense to this question, but... what are you, Predator?"

He sat silently for a moment. "First, a quick recap of the atmosphere then and now. Many people think of Roam and see good things. Efficiency, ingenuity, adaptability -- good things," he said flatly. Was he being deliberately deadpan, or did he truly feel nothing? Predator wasn't like others. He hadn't presented any face for me to scrutinize. "Roamans and non-Roamans then as now are quite similar. The Roaman lineage is full of pride, and the non-Roaman line is marked by hope of being part of something greater. That's what Roam is to people, I suppose. Something which gathered; a standard. A representation of the ideals of not just its own people, but of others as well. Roam was composed of many cultures, yet it had its own identity. Fancy that. A civilization possessing the strengths of a hundred ways of life, yet was cohesive and united. This... consolidated pluralism seemed to many the ideal society. And why not? Would it not be grand to be able to be oneself, whatever that entails, and to be supported by millions of free thinkers who all see you as one of them? Seemed like paradise."

He sat back and lowered his head. "Nothing in life is free, though. All prosperity is earned, and during the war suffering took its toll. Integrity cracked. The mares and stallions staffing our government, I'm sure their hearts were in the right place. But necessity called for action. Fearful of loss, they created me. All their forbidden technologies, they pulled from the archives. All their theories, they put to the test. I became a weapon of their design. Upon my flesh their tools descended. Into my veins they injected their chemicals; my cells, too, they reinforced with mutagens. My mind they reshaped, my body they tore apart."

He paused and lifted a forehoof, gazing upon it and turning it around in front of himself. "That I survived the process was a miracle to them. I became something else, and thereon they did not hesitate to use me. Their battles, I fought. Their enemies, I killed. Their ideals, I defended. And when the war escalated and their minds and bodies could not bare the strain, few hesitated to put the weight of their duties on me, for the truth was that I could handle it, and they could not."

I paused for a moment. My eyes glanced from side to side. Like Predator himself, Skyfire had her face masked by a helmet. Goldwreath, however, was visibly disturbed. I understood. For the longest time, I'd thought of the Roaman government as the best there was. The destruction of the Great War? That was not their fault, and they did all they could to stop it. But Predator was right in front of me. If he was speaking the truth, that they did things to him... no. It could not be. The emperor as relayed to me was an upright ruler, benevolent and just. His integrity could not break. He would never let Roam turn so desperate. He would never condone such things being done to one of their own. Surely not!

But actually... what had Roam ever been if not adaptable, ruthless? Did we not copy designs and steal strategies when faced with destruction? And when we had the advantage, did we not salt the soil of our enemies so they could never again rise against us? Did we not line miles of road with crucified, to terrify and humiliate our enemies? My mind raced, trying to reconcile such vileness to the heroes I'd made our leaders out to be. We had a violent history, but in the information age surely we'd cast off such barbarism... hadn't we?

I sat there, feeling an aching pit open inside me. What had I expected out of this interview, again? Ah yes, the tale behind Predator's uniqueness -- full of triumph and glory, a testament to the best we could be. Clearly I was mistaken. Naive. I had hoped for too much, and got knowledge I honestly could've gone without. Perhaps... not all questions should be asked. Perhaps not all curiosity should be sated.

My throat felt dry. I swallowed and sucked in a breath. "I... I'm... sorry. I... I don't know what to say." I looked deep into his visor. I couldn't see his eyes, but I wish I could have. Anyone else I knew would've been taking this opportunity to vent rage or sorrow. Predator had been calm. Cold and dead about it all, even. I wanted to stop asking. Truly, I did. But here was an individual, used and abused as expected in war, and finally he had a chance to speak. Surely underneath all the calmness was a need for expression. Surely all these heavy years yearned to be spoken of. However well he hid that desire, surely he wanted to talk. I could give him that at least.

"Well... what can you say about what you became?" It seemed like a safe approach, asking for his opinion and feelings.

"I was a super-solder," he said matter-of-factly. Flat tone... unbelievable. "I was capable of physical feats no other could replicate. But my abilities extended far beyond just incredible strength or endurance, and beyond just combat. My mind was transformed into a relentless computer, capable beyond all others. My learning and micromanaging abilities surpassed even the combined prowess of dozens. My augmentations made me capable of not just taking someone's post while they recovered, but to replace them altogether. At all times I was needed, here and there, by him and her. I was being pulled every which way. The emotional and psychological strain would've been too much for anyone else. But I could handle that, too. I was a machine... and I still am."

"Like hell," Skyfire suddenly snapped. We all looked to her as she shakily stood up. What, was she... angry? "Don't think of yourself that way, okay? You're not a machine, and that those... those people treated you that way was just wrong. Nobody deserves to be treated like some commodity, or a piece of hardware. Not even if they can take it." She let out a shuddering breath. "I'm... I'm sorry for you." Her tone was filled with deep pity, which I shared. But the intensity of her outburst seemed to me to come from nowhere. Had she encountered this sort of situation before? "You didn't deserve that. You just didn't."

I gave her a pat on the back as she sat back down. We couldn't see it through her helmet, but I was sure she was letting loose at least a few tears. Oh yeah, there was definitely some story behind this.

Predator cocked his head sideways. Perhaps he did not know how to receive pity?

"Thank you for the sentiment," he said. "But I've had two centuries to deal with any ill feelings, of which there were originally little. I volunteered for this, Skyfire."

Her head slowly rose up. Goldwreath looked shocked, and my own eyes widened. "You... you volunteered?" she questioned, echoing my thoughts precisely. "Why? Why would you do that to yourself?"

Predator hummed in thought, and muttered things under his breath. After a few moments though, he said simply, "Duty called. It was required of me."

Skyfire turned away from him and kept her head low. This was hurting her for some reason. What could I do beyond putting a hoof around her, and cease the interview? Not much else, but I at least did those. Besides, I too needed some time to process what I'd just heard. Enough questions for one day.

The silence dragged on, and Predator seemed to make the conclusion that our little interview was over. He relaxed, tending to the maintenance of his gear. Goldwreath gave him a scrutinizing look before turning away to continue his watch. His mind must have been heavy with his own thoughts. I couldn't blame him. I expected words that inspired, and lifted our hearts. Not these... disheartening truths and doubtful thoughts. As if there weren't enough of those already.

"We move out in five minutes," Predator informed us, not even looking away from his weapon. No emotion, no indication of any thought on the past. Perhaps he'd done what I've seen so many elderly wish to be capable of: to forget the past entirely, and to tend only to the present and future. It was admirable, and the strength required must've been herculean. Yet I could not believe that this individual, who'd gone through so much, had completely put to rest all the trauma of life; that what he was did not bother him one bit, or that despite all his suffering and sacrifice the world he knew and protected nonetheless fell to war. To my mind, he was a product of fear and desperation, and doomed to live in a cruel world. How could one so unlucky be so... nonchalant?

I shook my head. No more questions, I reminded myself. None of this had turned out as I had hoped. The notebook in my hooves, I wanted it full of hope. Something old Quintilius could read and smile over -- him and all the generations to come. How could I let him read this? How could I let them all read this? Was knowledge really more important than hope?

The pen hovered over the pages of the notebook, but in the end, I wrote nothing.

"And off to our right is the Tiber river! Gaze upon it, friends -- here is the majestic torrent that gave Roam life, and tended to it from kingdom to empire. It's a little more... radioactive nowadays than three thousand years ago, but here it is nonetheless," Delvius proclaimed, gesturing to the roaring waters below us as we crossed a wide bridge. "Look at all that beautiful... green water. Nothing compares, huh?"

We'd left our shelter about two hours ago and had made steady, unimpeded progress towards our destination. After navigating around blocked roads, into crumbling buildings, and at one point even going underground and through a small section of the Roaman sewage system (something Goldwreath seemed particularly uncomfortable with), we emerged on the elevated banks of the Tiber river. From there we gazed over to the other side, and Predator pointed out a wide building towering over the others. Its top was shaped like an upside down crescent, with two prongs reaching up towards the sky. Our halfway journey was almost over.

"It is beautiful," Goldwreath replied, admiring the roaring torrents. "Ah, how I would've loved to swim within its gentler portions, if things were different. For now, looking upon it will do, I suppose."

"Perhaps the Legion can clean it up!" Delvius proclaimed, beaming. "Surely they would! Well, somehow. Then the city of Roam can start fresh, and become a center for growth and prosperity. Food and water for all sounds marvelous."

Well, he was in a good mood. Good for him. Ever since our little chat with Predator earlier, well, I hadn't felt too good. Hearing what the guy went through, it brought back some bad memories. Even as we walked, I became detached from my senses, and my mind wandered back to that day, three years ago... the day my brother killed himself.

I had just joined the Enclave as a scout cadet. My brother, he'd graduated years before me and had made a name for himself as a captain. Times were tough for us. A series of disastrous reconnaissance missions to the surface, around dangerous hotspots, had killed several scout teams and their officers. We were short on capable leaders. The weight fell on my brother and others of the same station, naturally. They had to make calls that would decide the fate of several times more lives than they had trained to handle. They did their best. They made decisions that not everyone liked, but it kept our numbers from dwindling further. The pressure was crushing, though. Every time my family would meet, my brother would confess to feeling suffocated -- and my father, a distinguished commander of a Raptor-class aerial warship, told him to suck it up. His duty was important than his own needs. It went on like that for months.

One day, one of the few authorised scouting teams went beneath the clouds. They went silent for a day, then radioed in. They said they found something the rest of us just had to see; it was too complex to explain, and they'd need analysts to figure out what it was in the first place. The captains met up. My brother felt like something wasn't right. It was Enclave policy to maintain constant communication, and the party's mission kept them away from underground tunnels or any place where they couldn't be reached. The other captains had grown tired of the isolation. They wanted to know what was down there. My brother buckled. They sent more pegasi to the surface: analysts and engineers, capable of determining the nature of this 'great find' we'd been told about.

It was a trap. There was no great discovery, just the waiting hooves of an entire slaver army smart enough to not kill everything they see. From my comrades' helmet-mounted cameras, I saw them pulled from the sky with heavy nets and, once on the ground, attacked by blade-wielding ponies who cut off their wings so they could never fly back up. The last thing we saw a smirking warlord who said, "Thanks for the brains. We'll be sure to put them to work. Don't worry. They may come to like life on the surface. Hey, all of you! Say goodbye to your lives up in the clouds. We're you're new family now."

The scout captains were publicly shamed. They'd allowed some of our best and brightest to be enslaved and forced to live groundside forever, for a guy who would use their knowledge for who-knew-what. They were stripped of their ranks, dishonorably discharged, and forbidden from entering the workforce ever again. They were flagged as 'too irresponsible with Enclave resources to be recognized as regular citizens.' My brother lost his credibility, his life's work, and whatever shred of acceptance my father had left for him. Cast out of both the military and from our family, he had no home. Rather than suffer through a long, painful demise, he decided to jump off the clouds. I was too late to stop him. So ended Sunfire... bright, promising captain of the Enclave scouting regiments. No home, no family, no honor. I'd looked up to him -- he was my model. My captain. My brother.

Things just got worse in my family after that. Mom and Dad, they wouldn't stop fighting. I couldn't concentrate in the academy. People looked at me and saw the sister of the disgraced captain Sunfire. If I hadn't met Breezetail and the others... who knows? My corpse would've looked right at home rotting next to my brother's, I suppose.

There's only so much responsibility you can put on people. There's only so much you can expect out of them before they start failing. And when they fail, you don't blame them for not being prepared for a job that was never theirs. It ain't right. The bastards in the Enclave brass were too stubborn to realize that. Their policies regarding the surface couldn't be matched by our military power. Losing a dozen soldiers ain't much for an army, but we were not an army. Just a few thousand hastily-trained recruits put into complex machines of war and told to do as we were told, and nothing else. We were barely the equal of Equestria's wartime domestic force. Who paid for their mistakes and blindness? Not them, that was for sure. I would never forgive them -- I will never forgive them.

I looked up and saw Predator, and wished it were my brother standing in his place. Hell, even alongside him, whatever. Genetically modified? Fine. Cybernetically augmented? Sure. Alive? Yes, please.

I sighed and glanced sideways. Delvius was looking back at me with concern.

"What?" I asked, my nose clogged and my eyes watery. Even if he couldn't see the latter, he'd definitely have noticed the former from how my voice sounded.

He recoiled and looked uncertain how to proceed. He slowed down, moving from Predator's side to mine. Goldwreath overtook us, too distracted by all the wondrous sights around him to notice us.

"I'm just concerned," Delvius said. "You haven't spoken since earlier."

"Maybe because I've got nothing to say," I retorted.

He winced and looked away. He didn't deserve that. He was just being a decent person and showing concern, but I just wasn't in the mood to talk about it. I prayed that he'd be understanding, and said nothing else on the matter. Thankfully, he didn't prod.

Once we were across the bridge, Predator halted us. "Once we are within the compound, I encourage the utmost caution," he said. "We were lucky on our way here. We were allowed to talk and rest. If we were noticed by any bandits, they did not decide to approach us. But I know what lies inside the facility. Security measures range from heavy blast doors to automated turrets, and the computers, if they yet function, will not yield their secrets easily. I suspect we will have to disable the various firewalls before the program Vesperius provided you will even be allowed to operate within the system."

"Well then, I'm glad you'll be with us. You seem... more than capable of handling threats," Delvius commented. Then with some hesitation he asked, "So... how do you know so much about this place?"

Predator looked over to the building and took a deep breath. "My intentions for accompanying you three were not merely to ensure your survival. For decades now I have done my best to let the past be the past. For the most part, I have succeeded. Still, circumstance would have it that you would go where I have done my best to avoid. My mission over you has become personal , and with each step I take I realize just how curious I've been for all this time." He turned back to us. "I was made there. In its confines, my flesh was stripped away and replaced with wires and metal." He hummed. "I know not what I expect to find. Nothing of value, I think. There are few conspiracies and old-world projects that can survive two centuries. I suppose I'm the exception."

Delvius nodded. "Perhaps you seek closure? Well regardless, I hope whatever you find inside gives you greater peace."

"The best peace is that which people give themselves," Predator said. "I have given myself that. More likely, I simply seek greater understanding. But the sentiment is appreciated."

We made our way forward, passing by the first buildings that lined the elevated banks of the Tiber. These ones looked like... cafes. Little diners. In its heyday I could imagine colorful shops. Maybe some zebra foal asking his parents for cotton candy -- if they had cotton candy in Roam. At night, maybe some bars, and I bet the view would've been great for couples. All gone now, though. Replaced by grey and... darker grey.

Oh Celestia, this place was depressing. Bitter work for a better future, right? I liked the goal. It was the most anyone could look forward to. Just how much misery was between us and those happy times, though, I couldn't say. The uncertainty was the worst part.

As we trotted the desolate road towards the base of the facility, I let out a deep sigh. "Let's get this over with."

Predator looked up at the massive armored doors that marked the entrance to the Principium Engineering Foundation. The passing of all these years had scarcely marred their integrity. There were black streaks where I assumed people had detonated explosives, and dents where perhaps others had tried to smash through. Their size and strength were impressive, and had prevented all attempts of forced entry.

"Many would have thought these to be excessive," Predator said, running a hoof over their smooth surface. "I certainly thought so, when I first saw them. But the secrets they protected warranted no subtle protection. And indeed, here they still are..." He took a deep breath. He turned to us.

"Vesperius gave you a program to allow your entry, yes?"

Goldwreath pulled out his black device and gave the screen a few taps. "I've no experience with such things. Do I just... tap this? Hacking seemed much more complicated in all those movies and videos."

"The hacking was pre-done for us. So yes, it's that easy. Activate the program," Predator instructed. Goldwreath did as he was told.

Goldwreath focused on the screen. "Alright, looking for signal... signal acquired." That seemed to surprise him. "So the facility is indeed still functioning. Authenticating now."

Predator stood and stared at the doors. Moments passed, and he lightly struck them with his hoof. "Come on," he muttered. "Open. Open."

"Almost there," Goldwreath assured. "And... access granted."

A rumbling came from underneath. The security doors groaned, grinding downwards and disappearing into the foundation of the facility. Their absence revealed a shadowed chamber, unseen by the outside world for the greater part of two centuries. A draft rushed between us, entering the chamber and filling it with the dry air of the wasteland.

Predator paused for a moment. When he moved forward, so did we. We stepped beneath the entrance, and henceforth were within the premises. I pulled my gladius out. Skyfire's rifles glowed and cast a sinister green over the glossy floor, revealing our surroundings in dim light.

The reception area was a circular space, composed of two floors. Twin stairways on both sides of the area lead to the second floor, which was nothing more but a small platform in front of a door that, presumably, lead deeper into the facility. The back end of the first floor, between the stairways, was occupied by a series of terminals seated safely behind armored glass windows. If an intruder were actually able to penetrate the front entrance, there were metal extensions protruding from the ground and from the walls that would have acted as cover for security personnel. But for armed intruders, those wouldn't have been the real threat.

Skyfire was the first to halt, peering into the dark with her faintly-glowing, orange, bug-eye visors. "There's something here!" she warned.

We all stopped in our tracks as something massive lumbered from the shadows. Skyfire and I jumped back as a hulking robotic zebra stepped forward to meet us. At perhaps thrice the size of Predator, the thing's head almost reached the threshold of the second floor. Made in the likeness of praetorian guards, with a purple paintjob and appropriately shaped armored chassis, the robot before us regarded us with two glowing blue eyes.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears as adrenaline flooded my veins. For whatever good it would have done, I ionized my blade. Bad move. The robot's cold eyes focused on me, and I knew I was done for.

But, "Fulminata," Predator said. The mechanical guardian immediately withdrew, and moved back to the center of the room, where my adjusting eyes had previously failed to see it.

We all stood there for a moment, the shock draining from us to make way for relief. My hooves were trembling.

"It should be that I'll remember the proper access phrases to prevent these independent security measures from attacking us," Predator informed us. "And on the other hoof, the program Vesperius gave Goldwreath should ensure no firewall will hold us back. From here, it ought to go smoothly. "

"'Independent security measures?'" Goldwreath questioned, not seeming very pleased by the thought of it.

"Yes, independent," Predator replied, gesturing to the robot. "The likes of these Praetorian Class mechanical walkers operate off-grid, unattached to the network here. It was a foresight by their designers to prevent them from being remotely hacked in the case of a cyber-attack on the facility. If reprogramming was required, one had to pacify them with the proper phrase and physically access their systems via a panel within the armored chassis. Each individual walker possessed a different pacification phrase, ensuring that even if a determined intruder could pacify one, and perhaps even reprogram it, the rest of the security walkers would continue to operate as intended."

"Seems dangerous," Skyfire commented, eyeing the docile construct. "But then again, no security system's perfect. If it worked for you guys, who am I to judge?"

Predator nodded. He made his way over to one of the stairways and began ascending. We followed closely, and in a tight group. I suppose the shock of encountering a working and very dangerous security walker had us all seeking safety in numbers.

"Be on your guard," Predator said. As if we needed to be told. "The passing of so many years can cause any sort of disruption. Corruption of security protocols is a real possibility. It may be that things will not go as smoothly as we'd like."

"Well, between Skyfire's guns and the glowing blades Delvius and I sport, we can handle whatever comes," Goldwreath declared. "And... then there's you," he added, perhaps with a twinge resignation. "You've got enough firepower on you to handle the wasteland. I'm sure we'll make it out of this."

He gave me and Skyfire a nudge and smile. I smiled back. Yeah, we were going to make it.

"Well, I'm quite certain I'll survive, at the very least," Predator intoned, snapping out his retractable lightning rifle. The air lit up with crackling arcs of electricity, and the area was awash with the mixing glow of Skyfire's plasma and Predator's lightning. "Keep your focus on yourselves. I'd hate to inform Vesperius of your loss."

I frowned. That didn't raise my confidence.

"Just hold on, Goldwreath!" I shouted, hoping to be heard over the thunderous din as two machinegun turrets pelted his shield with a nonstop storm of lead. These were the second set of the damn things we'd come across on this floor. We'd gotten lucky with the first one; they'd been placed inside of a viewing room, where behind thick glass windows would've been shown the newest technological marvel or experimental machinery. The wide, open space of the room made spotting them easy, and the availability of cover amongst numerous columns made spreading their fire and taking them out none-too-challenging. Skyfire's plasma rifles worked wonders against their armored chassis. Following their destruction, Predator had ordered us to follow him as he charged forward and down the hall, but the tighter, closer space and lack of cover had gotten us pinned down while trying to catch up to him. Thankfully, we managed to come across some more of the barricades the security personnel would've used.

Now as it turned out, Goldwreath actually could hear me. "I don't exactly have a choice, do I?" he yelled back, holding up and hiding behind his Legion-issue scutum. A bullet struck against the rim of his shield, ricocheting off the nearby well before bouncing back against his helmet. The impact had no lethality but nonetheless exposed on his face a panic only one in his position could experience.

"Toss me your gun!" I told him. "I can take a shot at them while they're focused on you!"

"No!" he replied. "Keep yourself in cover. I am not having you get hurt again for my sake!" He turned to Skyfire. "Can you get a bead on them?"

Skyfire poked her head over the threshold of our cover -- a low wall designed for security personnel. Ironic that the same fortifications meant to protect this place were now being used to assault it. If I weren't being fired upon I'd have amused myself with the poetry of it.

Immediately, a stream of bullets was sent her way. She yelped as a round bounced off her helmet. She fell back under cover, squirming and panting and feeling over where she'd been hit with a hoof. "Uh-uh!" she shook her head. "Nope. Those things got good targeting computers. I ain't sticking my head out again."

"Damn it," Goldwreath growled. "Where the hell is Predator?"

As if answering his question, from beyond our little metal barricade came a flash of light. The bullets stopped. A sizzling hiss filled the air. Slowly, we poked our heads out.

There Predator stood, atop the ruins of one of the turrets; his lightning-gun in one hoof, the barrel of the second turret in the other. His armor was steaming and riddled with dents from bullet impacts, but he seemed fine. Of course he was fine.

He tossed the wreckage aside. "Perhaps I should've have been clearer," he said as we crawled out of our shelter to meet him. "I told you to follow me. I didn't think I had to tell you to follow me and keep pace with me. It seemed obvious enough."

Goldwreath stomped right up to him, seething. "Next time, try not to charge forward without us," he scowled. "I don't know if you haven't noticed, but we aren't exactly as durable as you are. We can't just charge through this place and come out alive."

"Reserve your anger," Predator said plainly. "I do not belittle you for not having my capabilities, but my speed could've been matched easily. Your fear held you back. Had you kept close you would've avoided drawing the security's attention, and you would not have had this little brush with death. I'd rather avoid the little fights, and I am able to do so because I recognize the value of speed. From the moment that first series of turrets opened fire on us, I knew haste became important to our mission."

Goldwreath growled. "You'll excuse us if we go a little more cautiously into the dark halls of an unknown place."

Predator snorted. "I advise you to dispense of that fear. Caution is one thing, and failing to be confident when you should be is another. You were in my presence. I know this place. As long as you followed my direction, you need not be afraid." He stepped towards Goldwreath. "I watch over you three, do not worry. Like a parent over foals. You're all so... vulnerable. And foolish."

Goldwreath's eyes popped wide and his limbs tensed. He growled and drew his gladius, ready to actually start a fight. I'll admit, Predator's condescension got on my nerves, though his point was sound. But thank the gods, Skyfire got between the two of them.

"Guys! Keep it together," she said. "Now ain't the time to quarrel. We're different people, we got different ideas of how we deal with danger. Let's figure that out later. For now, we'll follow your lead, Predator." She stared Goldwreath down through her helmet. He grit his teeth but relented, turning away and shaking his head. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Very well," Predator said nonchalantly. I rolled my eyes. "Now that we have a moment of understanding, I suppose I should at least admit how odd this all is. The network-bound security systems should not be hostile to us. I have clearance, and any in my company should not be fired upon. It could be that the passage of time has eroded the integrity of the security databanks. From my calculations, I assumed it would not be. Possible, yes, I had considered it, but unlikely -- almost entirely out of the equation."

Skyfire looked to Predator. "So, you think the security systems got corrupted? I wouldn't have thought so. In Equestria at least, high-level systems get extra measures to protect against data corruption. It'd take way more than just two centuries to deteriorate the info stored in this place. Only way I see it being a real possibility is if some guys fucked up big time while trying to hack the systems."

"I thought of that as well," Predator replied. He brushed the remains of a bullet off his armor and hummed in thought. "Obviously, this changes everything. Our time here will not be as leisurely or safe as I had desired. Shame. There is a wealth of data within these walls, and I would have liked to personally review it all without being shot at."

He sighed, then turned around and pointed down the dark hallway. The multitude of corridors branching off from it, labelled by pristine signs shrouded in darkness, were abuzz with the whirring of functioning security mechs and systems -- some of which were heading towards us now. "No time to talk or tarry, then. We must make our way to the central control room and barricade ourselves within, and hope a path out presents itself."

Goldwreath turned, looking shocked. "We're going to deliberately trap ourselves?" He shook his head. "Running ahead of us was one thing, but now you're going to ask us to seal ourselves in the middle of this place? Are you out of your mind?"

"It is a tactical risk," Predator replied. "Necessary to your survival, and if you won't believe that, then at the very least it is necessary for the mission. That computer of yours is fast for its size, but not fast enough to copy terabytes of data quickly enough for convenience. We will be held here for a while."

As he spoke, Praetorian-Class walker wandered into the hallway, perhaps drawn by the fuss of our recent scuffle with the facility's actual security systems. Its blue eyes looked over the wreckage before gazing upon us.

Predator bade us follow him and cantered down the hall. "Plumbum!" he called out to the walker as we passed by. It was satisfied with that, and proceeded to continue its patrol without giving us resistance. "No stopping now. It's either one plan or no plan at all, if you want to get out of here alive."

His tone was dead-serious. I did not feel any doubt when we first entered the complex. I had been too thrilled by the prospect of adventure and new knowledge to realize the very real chances of death. Wait, no, that wasn't it -- I did in fact acknowledge the risks, but I'd been too taken by my desires to feel the weight of my pursuits. The darkness of the halls and the smoking heaps littering the hall behind us all came crashing into me. The walls seemed to grow taller, wider, and closer. The pain in my injured shoulder, which I had borne through grit teeth, felt tripled. I could feel my throat tightening, and I fell against the wall, panting.

A moment of panicked breathing, then I felt hooves on my shoulder. I yelped. "Delvius?" Skyfire grabbed my face and made me look into her eyes. I just blinked and kept breathing. The world felt so far away, muted, and yet more frighteningly real than ever before.

"Aw, hell." She yanked her helmet off and forced eye contact. Her orange irises bore into me. "Delvius! Get a hold of yourself!" she yelled.

Predator pulled out his lightning gun and aimed behind us. From that direction came the clanging and whirring of machines of all types. I dared not look.

"Get him up," Predator ordered. "Umbra! Labyrinthus! Turbatio!" If he was trying to stop whatever was coming with words, it wasn't working. He growled and squeezed the trigger of his rifle, and after a second's delay the arcs from all three prongs of his weapon's tip converged into a single bolt in the middle that shot out with ferocious luminescence. The air was filled with the crackling of electricity, and sparks flew. "Now!" he shouted.

Goldwreath galloped over and helped Skyfire pull me from the wall. I wasn't ignorant to what was going on. I knew my system was in shock, unable to handle the pressure of battle. I wasn't ignorant to the realities of combat. I'd seen my fair share, but I'd never been on the receiving end. I'd always been safe, behind ranks of my brethren back in the praetorians. Turns out, I could be brave and proactive so long as my skin wasn't on the line -- easy to feel smug when there's no danger. Was this all I could take? A little danger and suddenly... collapse?

We made a turn at the end of the hall and were met with the unguarded doors of an elevator. There were two sets of buttons next to it: a series of faintly glowing yellow ones indicating floors, and another set of glowing red ones I knew not the purpose of. Predator rounded the corner and was just about to join us, when a blue laser caught his left hindleg and slagged his armor. My heart stopped as he limped for a step, stood shakily, and collapsed. My breath left me, but came back straight away when I saw that he simply lost his balance and just needed to get back up. Anyone else, though...

He rushed forward and slammed the yellow button indicating the lowest floor and proceeded to press a sequence of red ones. The elevator door opened, and we jumped in straight away. In that confined space, surrounded by armored walls and a relaxing absence threats, my companions took what little reprieve they could. Goldwreath felt back against the wall and slumped to the floor, gazing at me with concern. I looked away. Skyfire's own eyes were focused on the dent in her helmet. Shaking, she took the object which had saved her life and quickly put it back on. She seemed calmer after that.

And Predator? Well if I could tell anything from his body language, I'd say that Predator was a little like I was. Confused. Anxious, even -- maybe not for his own life as I was, but perhaps for the integrity of the information he was after. What was it he wanted so much out of this place, I wondered. Because whether he knew it or not, or whether it was truly the case or not, the way he fumbled with his weapon and the way his helmet's visor glanced every which way suggested no small amount of fear within our stoic guide. In a strange way, I felt glad to see him unsettled. A petty part of me relished in his turmoil, no thanks to how he'd treated us earlier. Mostly though I was just looking for justification for my own breakdown. If Predator, the two-hundred year old relic of war, and an experienced fighter no doubt, could feel fear, surely I could be excused for my weakness. Why, if anything, I'd handled my first real combat well, had I not? Surely! I'd kept a level head for most of the engagement and even suggested options for a more favorable battle. I was handling it well, yes? Yes?!

That's what I told myself as the elevator plunged into the deeps. Floors passed by, several every second. We were moving fast. Yet, not fast enough for me to forget what I'd just put the others through when it was most unwanted. I looked around. These three with me were all truly capable fighters, skilled in the art of combat. Goldwreath had had his people to protect, which kept him sharp. Skyfire's formal training showed itself in her reflexes, her aim, and her speed. And Predator, well, he was himself. He was bred for this. My previous delight at his anxiety turned to guilt as I saw his ruined hindleg. I knew not if he felt pain, but the laser had melted all the way through to his leg; the metal slag was mixed and dripped with a black liquid too watery to be oil from his armor. Indirectly, I had caused him that injury through my breakdown. Anyone else would've been crippled for life.

Of the four of us, I was the only one that'd never really had to use my sword. I was the only one that'd never truly needed to fight, and now here that inexperience was risking us all. I was not worthless, of that I was sure. But in the wasteland, it is a sad reality that the ability to fight is a necessity, and a requirement that I did not possess. I'd had my years to prepare and used them for other pursuits. To learn on the fly would be both impractical and potentially lethal. I would not risk their lives for my own ambitions. A person ought to make his desires a reality through his own strength. Perhaps I'd not given this whole adventuring thing the thought it deserved.

Truth was, I wanted history. And while firsthand experience is excellent and marvellous, it isn't necessary. Just the direct accounts of those seeing the history, making it... that was enough.

Perhaps I did not belong out here. That was not necessarily a bad thing. It did not render my ambitions for naught. My thoughts went to Quintillius, the old centurion. If I were like him... well, not crippled, anyway, could I not be of use through other means? Even if not good in combat, I was strong and able. My mind was in its peak, like my life. Could I not earn my keep yet archive the happenings of the world? I believed I could.

Again, my eyes went to my companions. A sense of regret and sadness filled me, and yet also I was relieved. They would not be risked by my lack of ability. First off, of course, we had to get back out of here alive. After that, though, it was just a matter of whether or not lord Vesperius needed himself a secretary of some sort.

All of a sudden, the elevator stopped. The lot of us were sent tumbling around. Predator fell forward, threatening to crush Delvius. I rushed forward and managed to pull him away just enough so the fall didn't squash him. The zebra held onto me tightly, like a foal. His breathing was erratic. I frowned and pulled him closer. What was going on with the guy? One moment he's fine, the next it was as if all he wanted was to hide in a corner.

"You okay?" I asked. After a while, he nodded.

I wasn't buying it. "No, really," I pressed. "Are you?"

He looked up at me. Thankfully, he really did seem more composed. Not lost and in shock like earlier, anyway. Again, he nodded.

I looked to the others. "And you guys, you alright?"

Goldwreath groaned. He'd hit his head against the wall. "No. Ears are ringing." He took off his helmet and massaged his temples. "What just happened?"

Predator rolled onto his back and let out a huff. "I suppose our sudden stop was not the consequence of a kindly force." He grumbled. "We're probably in lockdown. Getting out of here may be a little more difficult than anticipated."

All the lights went out. Overhead, a lightbulb repeatedly blinked red, illuminating our tiny space with grim light.

Predator sighed. "Oh yes. Definitely on lockdown."

Goldwreath laughed bitterly. "That's fine. You know this place well, right?"

I shot Goldwreath a look. "I thought I said now wasn't the time for this kind of shit?"

"You did," Predator chimed in. "But his sarcasm is not without basis, much as I hate to admit it. I thought I knew this place. It seemed so... unchanged. Two hundred years and barely a scratch on the surface. In theory, the inside should've been the same." He sat up and stayed silent for a moment. "Clearly not."

"So what now?" I asked. "Are we trapped in here?"

"I think not," Predator said. "I know this place well enough still. The elevator must stop at a floor in the case of a lockdown." He stood up and made his way to the doors. His eyes scanned the edges, and he laid his ears against the metal and gave the doors a few thumps with his hoof.

He took a step back and turned. "Now we continue, merely along a longer and more dangerous path." His hindlegs bucked, busting the elevator doors wide open with a deafening clang. Goldwreath grimaced and held his head with his forehooves.

"Gods!" he hissed, pressing his forehooves harder into his temples. "More warnings next time, huh? First the shenanigans earlier, and now this..."

"Fine," Predator deadpanned. "Now, hurry. This close to the main control room, and with the lockdown ongoing, security will be even fiercer. Again, I'll say: stick close to me." His visor wondered over Delvius. "Will this be a problem? What became of your fervor, hm?"

Delvius looked up. He swallowed and stood, taking a deep breath. He smiled nervously. "Just a little shaken up. I'm fine. Let's get this on, then."

Predator said nothing, but readied his rifle and stepped out the doors first. Goldwreath shook off his headache and followed. Delvius moved to be the next one out, but hesitated. I patted him on the back. "I got you, don't worry," I assured him. He gave me a thankful nodded and, with a few quick breaths, jumped out after them. Then it was my turn.

The look of the place had changed. Way up, things were all sleek and clean. The walls and the floors had merged together in gentle slopes. There were no sharp edges, and the windows allowing vision into the different labs were a a stylized oval with shiny metal rims. The polish of the walls and floor would've given everything a nice, shiny quality, if there'd been more light. Down here, it became obvious that security became top priority. Red lights flashed from wall-mounted bulbs. The walls and doors were now pure steel, and were only distinguishable from each other via riveted metal doorways. Above each door was a metal placard identifying the room within -- and unlike up top, the rooms here weren't directly named. You had your rooms C-5 and B-4, and if you were a spy you'd need prior knowledge as to what those codes designated to have any hope of getting anywhere quickly.

The corridors were built for greater security, too. Given the fortifications up top, I didn't think it was possible. Here, the corridors were narrower, and at every intersection there would be an elevated platform, accessible by thin stairways, from which guards would've watched every single hall and corner. Of course there were no more guards, but the turrets remained. We encountered one in the center of an intersection, but it did not fight us. It could not. It was a wreck: torn from its swivel and strewn all over the ground. Above us, where it would have been, was a mess of ripped wires and torn metal. In fact, the shape of the damage almost looked like...

"Claws," Predator noted. "The shape of those marks... claws. Large claws."

Goldwreath's eyes scanned the marks. "Tell me whatever did that isn't still down here," he said slowly. "No, really. Please tell me."

I looked to the side, down another hall branching off from our position. As expected, there were armored doors on the side, leading to rooms that hid who-knew-what in terms of pre-apocalypse research and technology. But at the end of the hall was something that I was sure as hell shouldn't have been there: a jagged hole, a veritable gaping pit devouring the entire wall and most of the floor. Rocks and dirt were strewn about near the entrance.

I pointed it out. "Guys..."

Predator immediately ran towards it. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I was not leaving his side down here. The others went after him without question, too. Suddenly I got the feeling turrets and robots were the least of our worries.

He stood at the edge of the chasm, peering into the dark. Where the metal floor ended in jagged protrusions, dirt began; a gentle slope leading further into the deeps. A light draft came from the tunnel, and with it a low howl of wind. I stepped back from the spook.

"Guys? Shouldn't we be stepping away from the hole?" Delvius asked nervously. He peeked over his shoulders, his gladius in hoof as he trembled. "The faster we finish the mission the sooner we can leave."

Predator stepped away from the wall. "The sooner you can leave, perhaps," he corrected. My eyes went wide. I didn't like the sound of that at all. "This mission was originally yours. I accompanied you through my own will, hoping to see for myself what had lain dormant here. I have done so. But this warrants investigation."

"You're leaving us?" Delvius asked, aghast. "You can't! We happen to need you to get out of here!"

"No. You don't," Predator said. "You have each other. Between you three is enough skill to emerge victorious in almost any circumstance." That was actually the most encouraging thing he'd said all day. Too bad the mood of the moment wouldn't let me appreciate the compliment.

We said nothing. Hanging over us was a cloud of doubt and despair. Goldwreath, who had seemed to hold something against Predator since meeting him, could now only grimace as if the idea of going on without him caused him pain. He licked his lips and cleared his throat is if he'd found words, but ultimately stayed silent.

"You are uncertain?" Predator asked, cocking his head sideways -- as if the answer wasn't obvious enough.

"Ah. You actually are," he concluded, actually seeming surprised. "You three underestimate the power of will. It is a dangerous thing, in the wasteland, to be overconfident. But there is also great waste in not seizing every opportunity that is within our power to take. But of course you know this... yet I've a feeling that most, if not all of you, care more not to waste than to be safe." He turned away from Delvius to look over Goldwreath and I. "Your hearts are fiery ones, yet they dampen, as any could. Tend that fire. A dosage of boldness will do you good. When we were up and about on the surface, did I not speak of caution, Goldwreath? And yet when we arrived, I prodded us to go forward fearlessly. Our positions switched. You held back, though the very fuel of your mission -- your employment under Vesperius, even -- is will. Will to... do. To render service; at first, it was to purchase leverage for your people, but along the way did it not become desire to better this wasteland? And you, Skyfire? Is it not the same?"

If by that he meant the fact that I was on these errands to pay the debt my friends owed the Legion, well... he was right. Really right. I didn't have to do those things; Vesperius had made that pretty clear. Yet there I was, underground in some old Roaman research facility, looking for some room from which to copy data. For what? Morbid curiosity. I'd spent my whole life up in the clouds, going through drills, enduring the humdrum... and it sucked. Pegasi didn't deal well with being couped up, but that's exactly what we went through every day. Leaving that life had been too easy. 'Hey Skyfire, we're leaving the Enclave, cause fuck these guys,' Breezetail said. 'We're headed where they can't ever get to us and start a new life.' I was on board pretty much straight away. The moment my brother was gone, there wasn't anything left to keep me there except my friends, and they wanted out just like me.

Predator was right about me, at least. From the look on Goldwreath's eyes, his words hit home with him, too.

Predator shrugged. "There are many ways of living in the wasteland, if one does not place survival as a top priority. You clearly don't see it as one, lest you'd not have gone on this errand at all. This is the life you've all chosen, and it is best not to pursue it half-heartedly. Embrace your choice. Become like a knife, sharp and narrow. Excel at what you do, and I do believe you'll find some meaning to all this. Look at your companions, Goldwreath. Look."

Goldwreath's gaze met mine. Then he turned to Delvius. Predator nodded. "Good. They are brave. They are resourceful. They can keep pace with you, and accompany you as you lead them to do many things of consequence. Do not underestimate their ability. Down these halls, behind the great doors designated by two zeros, is your objective. Take it! Put down whatever is between you and what you desire. For it is what you desire, is it not, Goldwreath? A life as a bulwark against the many terrors of the world; an existence of vindicating nobility and bravery, wherein every moment is a constant struggle to achieve better? It is a great passion that cannot be silenced before it has accomplished the irreversible."

Goldwreath was stunned. His expression was one of genuine shock, but not out of terror. In his eyes was a gleam of that very passion Predator spoke of. My feathered friend looked back down the hall.

"But what if it's here? What if... what if we need you?" he asked, echoing my thoughts precisely. For my part, I still didn't feel good with this at all, and hoped desperately Predator would reconsider.

"If it is here, you put it down," Predator answered. "You do not need me for that. You have the proper companionship for the task. Can you not... feel it? A looming strength? A... reassuring presence?"

Goldwreath took a moment to process that. His hoof went into his saddlebag, and he pulled out a golden eagle attached to a short metal pole. Goldwreath gave the pole a shake, and it extended into a long rod: a staff with the gleaming eagle on top. I'd heard stories of how the Roamans venerated the eagle. It was the symbol of their highest god, Jupiter. Me, I didn't much care for the stories, but my two Roaman friends seemed instantly reinvigorated. That alone made me feel better. A teensy-weensy bit, anyway. As Goldwreath held the eagle close, a pressure built up in my ears, filling my head with a low, soft... humming.

"That should be enough," Predator told us. "More than enough, actually. If it comes to it, I believe you'll see what I mean. But for now, I must go. Remember what I said, you three. It is a passion that cannot be stopped that leads you on. Be confident in yourselves, and let your doubts be silenced. It's how I get by."

Predator turned to the chasm and took a few steps down the dirt slope. Goldwreath took a step after him, probably still having some doubt about letting him leave. I myself had half a mind to plead one more time, but ultimately his confidence in us stopped me. If he believed we could do it, well... great. I guess it really was time to start stepping up to this new life.

Before he disappeared completely into the darkness, he looked back up at us. "We will meet again. Soon, even. At night, keep a sharp eye." In his visor, two red lights lit up. Orbs of red casting a faint glow on the rock walls. The two lights focused on each of us as Predator regarded us one last time. Then he turned and disappeared down the tunnel.

Delvius let out a breath. He gave his injured shoulder a roll. "Well... life of consequence, eh?" He chuckled nervously. "Let's just hope he wasn't just saying all that to make us feel better."

"I think he meant it," I said. "At least, he had no reason to lie to us. If he felt that we could take out whatever's down here, then hell, I'll roll with it. If I die, I die free and doing something with myself. Truth be told, that's... that's more than I could have hoped for just a few weeks ago. But I'm sure we'll get out of here, even if we do have to go through all the security again. I don't know about you guys, but I feel like we can actually do this!" Wow, I was actually believing myself. "What do you think?"

Delvius tentatively nodded. "Well, I've spoken to the gods before. Sometimes they answered, I think. Hey, if they're with us on this, we'll make it out." He took a deep breath. "Right, Goldwreath?"

Goldwreath looked the eagle in its metal eyes. He turned to us and smiled. "Right."

He trotted back down the hall and lead the way. As we followed, Delvius shook his head and thumped his temple a bit.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Eh, there's this odd humming sound in my ears," he replied. "It's not bad. Actually, it's a little comforting, if you'll believe me. Just wondering what's causing it is all."

"Where is all the security?" Goldwreath asked aloud. "Can't be that there's no power. All these red emergency lights are up. Doors for those stairs worked, too. I can even hear the faint hum of generators. So what's going on?"

Following the room labels from the letters D through A, we found the hall leading to the great double doors Predator mentioned. They were lit up by the dim red at the end of a slightly wider corridor, at the sides of which were twin platforms for security personnel. As we made our way closer, we saw heaps of torn metal: the husks of ruined security mechs and turrets. Their metal was ripped apart by claws, just as we feared. And when we arrived at the junction right before the massive doors, we saw the signs of battle. The walls and floor were blackened in some places and slagged in others; deep claw marks ran along the length of some of the corridors. Whatever was here had fought the security and won.

Delvius looked over the wreckage. "I guess that answers that. So... answer something for me. If, in the unfortunate situation we encounter whatever did all this... um, what would it be? What can you guys think of that could do all this?"

"Manticores, maybe," Goldwreath answered, stepping over the head of a fallen Praetorian walker. Delvius shuddered from the thought of it. "But I don't think regular manticores come from underground, tear open metal, and plough through military-grade walkers without even taking a scratch."

"So... mutated manticores?" Delvius questioned, seeming even more uncomfortable.

Goldwreath shook his head. "The more time we spend down here the more I'm ruling out any regular animal. I don't see any blood or bones. You'd think all this security would've been to at least wound whatever came through here. So I think what we're seeing is either one of the following: an incursion, long enough ago that whatever skeletons or blood dried up and became dust, or a more recent attack that was horribly lopsided -- all instigated by some deadly beast."

Delvius chuckled nervously. He swallowed. "I know which of those I wish were true."

We arrived before the doors. Oh, they were still up, which I felt was great. Whatever tore this place up hadn't been able to bring them down. Didn't even seem to try; the damn things were pristine. Goldwreath didn't seem happy, though.

He stepped back from the gargantuan doors and regarded them carefully. He swallowed. "I've a feeling it's in there," he said grimly. "At least, something has to be. Look."

Beside one of the doors was a panel displaying some text. It was in Imperial Roaman, and I couldn't read it. "What's it say?" I asked.

Goldwreath grimaced. "Manual lockdown ongoing. Duration, fifteen minutes."

"Manual lockdown?" I cursed. "So it wasn't automatic. Something was keeping tabs on us and tried to stop us before we arrived. Probably hoped we'd suffocate in the elevator."

Delvius' eyes popped wide and he looked around frantically, focusing on the ceiling. "Hidden cameras must be everywhere. If whatever is in there has been keeping its eyes on us, it must know we're here." He swallowed. "Do we... still open those doors?"

Goldwreath drew his sword and let the edges glow. "We have to. It's our mission. There's no turning back now." He turned to his fellow Roaman and held out the eagle to him. "Hold this."

Delvius stepped back, mouth agape. "Goldwreath... I'm not certain I deserve the honor."

"We can argue our worthiness later. I intend to step through those doors first, and I'll need to hold my shield up. Skyfire will cover me. You, Delvius, by virtue of the injury you sustained on my behalf, must be in the least danger. And so I entrust this to you. It's not a matter of sentiment. I'm just being pragmatic."

Delvius swallowed and sucked a breath in. He sheathed his own sword and gingerly took the eagle into his hooves. "Gods, forgive me if I drop this," he muttered.

With that, Goldwreath turned to the doors and pulled out his little black device. He approached the door panel and paused, wondering how to proceed. Surely the device had a means to open these doors, right? Vesperius seemed the type to think of everything beforehoof.

Goldwreath licked his lips, focusing onto the device's tiny screen and tapping away. He muttered to himself and sometimes paused to hum in thought; probably navigating whatever options the device gave him about the facility. I kept my eyes open, letting my helmet's targeting computer help me scan our dim surroundings. On the side of my heads-up-display were my plasma rifles' power level; they were good to go for another few firefights. I hoped whatever in there would melt to goo when I blasted it, otherwise I'd be shit outta luck. I didn't exactly have much else to contribute in a fight besides my flight, and I doubted that'd be of much use down here.

Goldwreath tensed. His hoof hesitated over the screen, shaking. He glanced back at us and said, "Get ready." And then he gave the device a last tap.

The red lights stopped blinking, and in their place shone the brighter white of the facility's regular bulbs. The corridors were lit up, and I admit that lifted their creepy quality quite nicely. The doors began to open.

Goldwreath hurriedly shoved his computer back into his saddlebags and pulled out his shield. He approached the widening gap between the doors cautiously, his eyes barely over the shield's rim. I stood behind him, crouched and ready to fire. Even as light poured into the room beyond, my targeting computer was hectically trying to find something to shoot at. My breathing tensed and I just ached to open fire.

The doors vanished into the walls, revealing the room beyond. From where I stood, I could see that it was yet another circular space, lined with chairs and keyboards above which were dozens of screens -- security footage, live from the rest of the facility. The place wasn't illuminated well, though. Probably the lights had burnt out. In the center of the room was a single massive screen covering the entire wall: the only thing displayed was a white line running horizontally from end to end over a purple background. In front of this massive screen were several complex-looking consoles.

Goldwreath stepped forward cautiously, glancing from side to side. I followed and did the same, my heart pounding and my rifles just begging to shoot.

But there was nothing. The whole room was clear, except for a faint ringing in my ears. Feedback from the noise of the doors grinding sideways, probably. Despite the fact that it was darker here compared to outside, we really didn't need light to see that the place was empty. I looked in all directions but saw only my friends and the various apparatus inside. Delvius smiled widely.

"It must've left," he chuckled, shaking his head. Goldwreath let his shield down and turned in place, as if not believing our luck. "It's okay, guys! All clear!"

I didn't believe him at first, but my targeting computer found nothing. This was a piece of tech that could spot a mouse in a field of tall grass. In some ways I'd come to trust it more than my own eyes. In the end, I relaxed, too.

While Delvius and I laughed to ourselves in relief, Goldwreath cantered forward, laying his shield and sword at the base of the consoles and pulling out his computer again. He looked over the multitude of buttons displayed before him, and eventually found a slot into which he jammed his device.

The white line on the massive screen fluctuated. A flat, synthetic female voice spoke: "Good day. I can see that personal data unit inserted into my data port; it bears an authorization program. All seems to be in order. You are permitted to access this mainframe. What is it you desire?"

I stepped forward and regarded the mainframe. I thumped the side of my helmet in an attempt to disperse the ringing; it was still there. "That's some computer," I commented. "Must be the local AI or something. Seems pretty complex, too, with that speech. Nothing at all like the combat computers I've seen."

"Given that you are authorized by an Imperial-level permit, I am allowed to elaborate on myself, if you so desire," the computer replied. I rose my brows. That was some computer, indeed.

"Later," Goldwreath cut in. He rubbed his temples and shook his head. He blinked hard. "Look, we need a copy of this facility's data. Everything. The sooner we can leave here, the better. Our mission is of utmost importance."

"I understand," the computer said. "I will begin this process immediately. Please standby."

Delvius glanced over at the open doors. "Should we close those? Just in case. Wasn't the original plan to seal ourselves in here for our own safety? This could take a while, after all."

Goldwreath shrugged. He looked tired and irritated. I was starting to get annoyed, too. The damn noise...

"Sure, fine," he dismissed. "Go ahead."

Delvius trotted over and activated the doorside console. The massive gates begin sliding back into place. Soon we were sealed inside with nothing but the light of the mainframe and the security footage to illuminate the area.

I sat down and took off my helmet, hoping to get rid of the ringing and take a moment to really relax. But no. It was still there. I grimaced and massaged my forehead.

My zebra friend returned. Looking up at the screen, he said, "So you're in charge of this place, huh? Just... fascinating. I'd heard stories of such advanced computers as yourself. Well, I don't know if you can feel flattered, but you're certainly quite interesting to me. While we wait, tell me a little about yourself."

If I were in a better mood, sure, I would've played twenty-questions with a machine. But with this headache I was picking up... bleh. I'd let Delvius do the asking.

The white line on the screen fluctuated as the computer spoke, "I am an Apollo-class artificial intelligence, designed for maximum processing power and decision-making freedom in the pursuit of my directives. Of that class of AI's, I was the last produced, and so have been given the designation 'Zaita.' My most recent directive was to act as a safeguard for the sensitive information held within my databanks. To that end, I have focused entirely on keeping security up."

Delvius smiled bitterly. "Hah. Yeah, we noticed. Not that I blame you for that, though. You were just following orders. I can respect that... Zaita." His smile turned more genuine. "A nice name, if I may say."

"If I could feel, as a mare I would blush," Zaita replied. "But as it is I can merely receive your words through a microphone and process the intended compliment. I must correct you, however; I do not run security for this facility, though I certainly could. I have kept my processing power exclusively to the task of fortifying the cyberspace of my mainframe. I do not even control the door to this room, let alone the lockdown protocol."

Delvius recoiled. He rose his brows. "Oh. I see. Well, if you felt that was the best course of action... or, well, calculated it as the best course of action, as would be more appropriate." He scratched his chin. "So... when this facility was under attack and this room was broken into, you just let it happen? Not that I'm judging. Must be some important stuff in those databanks of yours."

"Yes," Zaita said plainly. "Perhaps I might have been inclined to partake in physical security if I could see what was terminating the security measures. As it was, I decided against diverting the processing power."

Goldwreath, who'd laid his head against the console the past minute, looked up. His face was sweaty, and he looked to be in pain. Honestly, between the three of us, only Delvius seemed fine. He probably wasn't having his ears stabbed. Lucky duck.

The noise in my head got louder.

"You saw nothing?" my feathered fellow asked incredulously. He painstakingly tore himself from the console and stood up. He looked up at the screen. "How is that possible? Regardless of whether you control anything beyond yourself, you were witness to this place for the last two centuries at least... and you've seen nothing?"

"Most odd indeed," Zaita intoned. "Precisely why I did not intervene. The nature of the recent attack is enigmatic. The closest comparison I can put forward would be a violent poltergeist attack. The violence stopped, however, when whatever it was entered this room. It could have destroyed everything here, as it had done outside. Instead, a new phenomenon began: a signal of of extremely high frequency started attempts to hack into my databanks. I have thus far been able to repel all attempts. It is, however, trying again right now. The hardest it has ever tried, in fact. The signal itself is not within the hearing range of most organics, but its presence can cause neural interference that could result in headaches and disruption to the auditory nerves. Said disruption can manifest as an ever-present ringing; a tinnitus."

We looked to each other. Or rather, Goldwreath and I looked to each other; Delvius just stared at the screen, processing the new information, seemingly free of my plight. But one look into my fellow pegasus' eyes and I knew he had been feeling the same as me.

"Skyfire?" Goldwreath asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "I feel it, too."

Delvius looked to the two of us. "Feel what?"

Goldwreath ignored him. He turned to Zaita. "Zaita, I need you to hurry up with that copying. Turns out that thing could still be in here after all, and I do not want to let it have what it's after."

"Of course," the computer replied simply. "Diverting additional ram."

"Guys?" Delvius asked in concern, finally noticing our pain. "Is this something serious?"

"Probably," Goldwreath said, picking up his sword. "You, stay here. I'm going to stand by that door and make sure this damn thing stays away. Give me the eagle."

Delvius gave it up to him. "I'll make sure to get the data the moment it's finished copying," he said.

Goldwreath nodded. "Good. Skyfire, you're with me."

As we trotted back to the door, the ringing in my ears subsided... only to be replaced by powerful waves of dull noise. The humming was back, but it didn't feel too nice this time around. It wasn't the pleasant, soft sensation from earlier. No. It felt almost... angry.

"What the-?" Goldwreath staggered as the eagle in his hooves began glowing with a fluctuating blue light. Each pulse of light overlapped with the others, and as the eagle grew steadily brighter the fur of my body stood on end. Through the ground blasted a mild shock. The very air smelled of lightning.

Suddenly the eagle erupted with light and noise -- a wave that assaulted my senses and actually physically knocked me to the ground. The very air around me crackled furiously with blinding bolts of electricity. I felt the heat as lightning singed and burned the floor around me. I crunched into a ball, hoping that none of the stray bolts would strike me. Goldwreath, too stunned by what he was witnessing, could only hold onto the eagle. He was not harmed.

Over the deafening crackling and the fizzing out of wires, something roared in pain.

The lightning receded. The fur on my coat still stood straight up, though, and the overwhelming strength of a dull noise filled my ears. I almost couldn't hear anything else. Then my eyes glanced over to the doorway and my heart stopped.

Holy fuck. What was that?

In front of the great doors laid a thing; a monstrosity of a creature, glossy-black like obsidian, with four long legs each ending in three wickedly sharp black claws. It had a tail just as black as its thick body, and two wings splayed out over the blackened metal floor. Both appendages were vaguely translucent, and crisscrossed with dark veins.

The thing that caught my eye the most was its head. Attached to the body by a short neck, the head was long and sharp, like a croc's. Unlike a croc's, this thing's mouth opened up into a thrice-split mandible. The rear of its scalp jutted out into two curved arches, which bent towards each other. Between them was a scintillating energy, a pulsing green orb that rippled as if being distorted.

Its brightly-glowing emerald-green eyes looked us over. Goldwreath, who hadn't been knocked down by the wave, could only return the gaze in pure shock. Delvius, too, couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

The creature's body spasmed as electrical current visibly ran through its glassy black body. It snorted and growled; the growl of a pissed off beast. Its body suddenly lit up with lines of green, running from the eldritch energy on its head and extending to every limb. It started to get up.

But then the eagle in Goldwreath's hoof sent out another shockwave of noise. The creature hissed and promptly collapsed again, the lines disappearing from its body. Its head hit the deck, the mandibles agape and oozing a bubbling liquid that dripped from its black fangs.

Goldwreath's eyes were of utter bafflement. He looked to me and I could only mirror his disbelief. In his eyes was the question, just as I was sure he was seeing in my own: 'What the fuck just happened?'

Delvius shakily pulled himself up and looked up at Zaita's screen. Thankfully, it was still functioning. "H-how..." He swallowed. "How long?"

"Eighty-percent. I understand the severity of the situation. The signal is currently absent. I am diverting all of my resources to the task."

I got up, shaking. Goldwreath stood before the creature, frozen in place. His eyes looked over its limp body. I wasn't sure I liked getting any closer to the damn thing than was necessary, but hell, it was in front of the only exit. I cautiously approached my fellow pegasus, plasma cannons ready.

"So this is what emerged from the depths," Goldwreath said as I approached. I stood next to him. He shook his head, not taking his eyes off the creature. "What is it?" he asked absently. I didn't think he seriously expected me to answer, so I didn't.

A moment passed, and I suddenly realized the fact that we were doing nothing.

"Yeah, fuck you!" I growled, and blasted the creature all over with plasma. It growled weakly, lifting up a leg to shield its torso. I didn't relent. Its black body recoiled from the impacts, and gradually sections of its glassy hide started to melt. It otherwise didn't seem to badly damaged, but I didn't care. "Eat. This. You. Shit!" I snapped, unloading the last of my plasma into it. Its leg went limp and its claws twitched, then slowly relaxed and spread out.

Eventually, Goldwreath stopped me. "Alright. If it wasn't dead before, it should be now. It has to be." He stepped forward, raising his sword. "But just in case..." He looked down into its faintly glowing eye. A slightly brighter portion in the emerald green seemed to follow him. Fucking hell, the thing still was alive.

Not for long, though. Goldwreath stabbed it right in the socket with force enough to cut the bone on the edges. His blade sizzled as it it sunk deeper into the creature's head. The beast gave one last frantic effort, flailing its front limbs around. The very tip of one if its claws actually managed to scratch Goldwreath's cheek and drew blood, but he just shouted a defiant shout and thrust his sword as deep into the creature's skull as possible. Finally, it went limp. The scintillating energy behind its head was snuffed out.

Goldwreath pulled out and breathed deeply, staring hatefully at the creature's corpse. His grip on the eagle was tighter than ever.

"To the abyss with you," Goldwreath said... or at least, it came from Goldwreath's mouth. The voice that spoke was a lot deeper, more powerful. I put a hoof on Goldwreath's back.

"Hey, it's dead now," I said. "Calm down."

He swallowed, glaring down at the dead creature. Then he closed his eyes and looked away. "Vile thing," he said, "Whatever it is, it can't be good. Can we document the corpse somehow?"

"I got it," I told him. My helmet snapped a photo of the beast's lifeless body.

He nodded. His fury gave way to exhaustion, and he visibly slumped. He held onto the eagle for support. The overwhelming noise made way for a gentler humming sound. Whatever the hell it was, I was glad for it. It soothed me and calmed me down. I had a shit ton of questions, but I figured none of us had any answers. Vesperius might have had some, though. If anyone would've, it was him.

Still, for what it was worth, I looked the eagle in its eyes and sent it a thought: Hey, thanks.

You're very welcome.

My eyes went wide. Did it just... uh-uh. No way. Just ask Vesperius, Skyfire. Just ask Vesperius.

Goldwreath turned tiredly and faced Delvius. "Done yet?" he asked.

"The task is complete," Zaita said. "You may now take the data and do with it as you wish."

Delvius promptly took Goldwreath's device out of the mainframe port. He held it gingerly in his hooves. "To think that we went through all this for some data." He looked up at Zaita's screen. "Very sensitive, secret data, I assume?"

"I would certainly think so, if I were in your position and learned the contents of these archives for the first time," Zaita replied.

"Good. I guess it was all worth it, then." Delvius smiled. "Goodbye, Zaita."

"Goodbye."

Our zebra friend turned to us and began trotting over. "Shall we leave?"

"Yes, please," Goldwreath answered. He let out a sigh and rubbed his temple. He gave Zaita a look. "If we can. What's the status of the remaining security, Zaita?"

The great doors ground open. "I have expanded my influence over the facility. All the mechanical walkers and turrets will let you pass," the computer said, and boy, was that good news for us. "The facility is now completely open to you. You may leave or stay as you wish. I suggest leaving and coming back later on when you are in better shape, if you so desire."

Goldwreath smirked and bowed his head. He gave Zaita a grateful nod. "Well, we just might. Thank you. You did your duty well."

"Ah," the computer spoke. "Thank you. It was my last directive. I desired nothing less but its implementation."

Goldwreath smiled. He gestured for us to head out. "Goodbye, Zaita."

The screen's white line fluctuated as Zaita spoke her last word, "Goodbye."

We turned, stepping around the creature's corpse. Delvius kept as far away from it as possible. I'll admit, even when dead it exuded dread. But we passed by without incident. And we trotted down the halls and back to the elevator without incident. And finally, on the long ride back up to the surface, I laid my head against the elevator wall and let out a sigh. Finally, a little rest.