The secondary entrance to the Bunker slides soundlessly open.
Midnight’s nostrils are immediately filled with the stench of the burned city, a combination of rot and old death that seem to have soaked into the very bones of the city. Outside, hail and snow whirl across a flat paved area about fifty paces square. Ivory Spark takes a step ahead, covered in borrowed furs and coats, the unicorn carries a sawed-off shotgun by Dahlia’s insistence.
Iron Sunrise comes just behind, pulling a sled packed with the necessary supplies for their trip.
The landscape is as bleak as anything they’d ever seen around the Wasteland, walking through what little remains of the city, getting deeper and deeper into the ruins as they seek the remains of military base. There is no sign of vegetation anywhere.
Midnight is glad for her armor, the enchantment straining to keep her warm against the snow storm. Ivory struggles with her layers of clothes, trudging with great difficulty through the snow. Iron Sunrise is always a few steps behind, his eyes always scanning the horizon for possible threats.
There are jagged peaks layered with snow all around them, vanishing into the murk. She eventually glances at the sky, cursing the cloud cover that blankets Equestria.
In a shallow valley almost on the flanks of the high mountain is a huddle of blocky buildings. Some of them look desolate and ruined, but among them there are a few tents and a thin wisp of black smoke comes out of them. Among the buildings stands a small group of about a dozen ponies, shrouded in dark clothing.
Oddly, none of the waiting group moves as the three of them comes closer, Midnight and Iron Sunrise approaches with the trigger bit far from their mouths as a gesture of peace, but the group seems unfazed. The strangers don’t seem to have any weapons with them, their clothes too flimsy to resist the snowstorm for too long.
An extremely tall pony, his face obscured by a black hoodie, strides toward them with an ease smile, barely bothered by the snow.
It is then that Midnight notices the bright, yellow eyes. She has seen mutation and taint before, but this isn’t it.
“Welcome,” calls the tall stallion, showing sharp teeth. “Welcome to our humble village, we would like to offer a proper welcome, but, alas, you meet us in a time of strife.”
Midnight offers a hoof. “My name is Midnight Reverie, officer in the Royal Guard.”
“My name is Silver Spirits,” he replies, but don’t extend his own hoof in return.
Midnight looks around, beckoning Ivory to come closer. The sight of the unicorn’s mechanical hoof causes some of the tribe to chatter and stare, to her annoyance.
“This is Ivory Spark,” Midnight says. “The stallion over there is Iron Sunrise.”
“Please, come to our village so we can offer you at least a meager meal to warm your tired bodies and then we can talk properly,” Silver gestures towards the blocky, concrete houses.
Silver Spirits leads them to the largest construction, and orders two young ponies, also covered in black cloaks, to fetch some warm food for the visitors. A table is hastily put for them and turnip stew is brought in small plastic bowls.
“You have been living here for long?” asks Ivory.
The tall pony nods. “We have been here so long that sometimes the life before the bombs appears to be a fevered dream. It makes us happy to receive visitors, besides those foolish Guardians we haven’t seen any other pony in many moons, we were beginning to believe no one else had survived the bombs.”
Midnight lowers her scarf, taking a long breath, she smells wet fur and a strange tinge in the air. “You know the Guardian?”
“Of course, they worked security to Stable-tech during the construction of the Stable. When the bombs fell they barricaded themselves inside of the station. We begged at their door to be allowed inside as the city burned behind us.”
Midnight exchanged a worried look with Ivory. “They? We saw only one Guardian.”
He nodded. “Back then, they were a small army, with the weapons and gear to back it up. We used to see them amidst the ruins of the city, living like princesses as we scrounged a meager existence out the poisoned soil. Not so many moons ago they came to us, begging for our help and telling tales of a deadly disease that had spread through their bunker.”
“They died?”
The tall pony shuddered. “We never knew for sure. We stopped seeing them among the ruins, but we never knew what really had happened. We tried to communicate with them a few more times, but they never answered back.”
“And for how long have you been wearing it?” Midnight asks abruptly.
The tall pony’s eyes go wide, he chokes loudly on his stew. “I beg your pardon…”
“We are Royal Guard,” Midnight interrupted him. “We fought against the zebras in the front lines. I have seen eyes like yours before, the zebras used to call them Minzi.”
Silver looks over the rest of his village with a defeated look before undoing his cloak to show his form. He is more lupine than pony, with clawed paws and a thick, bushy tail, his fur had grown around his chest and back. In his chest there is a zebra medallion carved from wolf’s fangs, fused to his skin.
“I knew you smelled like wet dog!” Midnight quipped.
“I don’t think I can say that I wear it anymore, by this point this thing wears me,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m sorry.”
“No hard feelings,” says Iron Sunrise as zebras steps out of the shadows, their rifles pointed at the trio. “We do what we need to survive.”
Midnight takes a long sip of her stew, the silence heavy in the room.
“Take us to your leader?” Midnight says in broken zebrish.
The legionnaires don’t bother to tie the three ponies, they are guided through the snow and the ruins to a big encampment on the shadow of a snowy mountain. They are taken into an improvised cell made with steel bars and the ruins of a couple of walls, the door is closed with a simple lock and chain. The Legionnaires pat them down with trained meticulously, taking their weapons and gear before locking them down.
Iron Sunrise sits himself against one of the walls, feeling strangely naked without his armor or guns. He looks at Midnight without expression. “They say anything?”
“Not well—I think they’re remnants. Have you seen their guns?”
A big zebra with piercing green eyes and the markings of an official watches over them through the metal mesh, the rifle on his back is the kind seem amidst special forces, trying to catch what they were saying.
“Yeah. They all got Makarov 9mm pistols. Lot of Kalashnikovs and Kiparis, even a few Dragunov rifles. Those are no common raiders, that’s military gear.”
“But how they could have crossed?” Ivory ponders. “I know we are close to the zebra lands around here, but…”
The zebra approaches them, he carries a worn-out book in his left hoof, flipping quickly through the pages, he points his own chest and says: “Unathi.” Then, widening the gesture to include the rest of the zebras, he adds, “We are Legionnaires.”
“I’m Midnight Reverie and this here is Iron Sunrise, we are with the Night Guard. The unicorn is Ivory Spark, she is a civilian.”
“It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance,” says Unathi, stumbling over the words.
Unathi puts on the ground a ragged Stable jumpsuit. “Good,” he says. “I wish a further information, if you please.”
It is one of the most bizarre episodes in Midnight’s life—a life that is well studded with bizarre experiences.
“We don’t have any of those.”
There is a delay while Unathi translated and digested that. “Nyet,” he says, shaking his head. “How enter… Stable?”
“No,” replies Midnight, standing up. Ivory and Iron Sunrise also rise. The zebras are over them in a moment. Gun muzzles points in their direction without a moment hesitation.
Unathi clenches his teeth and throws the small book away. Those weren’t poor and starving ponies like those that had lived in this village, they had suffered the harshness of this new world, but they hadn’t been destroyed by it. Their gear and weapons are too shine, too well cared; their bodies and mind are still sound, they haven’t been infected by the despair and sickness that ravages the land. To bribe the locals with medallions and rations had been easy, but they would have nothing that could spark the greed of those bat-ponies if they really had access to the Stable.
He curses under his breath; the zebra had known that this mission wouldn’t be accomplished without bloodshed. He had hoped he could, but deep down he had known it would come to it. He beckons for Tariro to come to him.
“Old friend, it saddens me to ask you, but the very survival of our kind is at stake.”
“Choose one of the bats, the unicorn is a civilian,” the old zebra says with a deep sigh. “Let’s try to have some measure of pride to make us worth of salvation.”
Midnight and the others watch the exchange, guessing from the expressions on the zebra’s faces and their simple understanding of the zebra’s language what is going down. The gray-clad zebra with the soft voice approaches them, he carries a doctor’s pack at his side.
“Bad news time,” says Midnight.
“Yeah,” agrees Iron Sunrise
“Tell us where Stable is” Unathi points at the Iron Sunrise and his zebras take him out of their improvised prison and bind him. In moments Iron Sunrise’s hooves are tied tightly, and held firmly by two strong zebras. Half a dozen guns cover Midnight and Ivory.
“Are they going to torture him?” asks the unicorn.
Midnight only nods.
“Beautiful Luna, protect me from the evil that lurks in the night,” Iron Sunrise prays “Watch over those that are lost, and as the moon changes, so shall I be reborn.”
The old doctor moves in close to the kneeling pony, looking down into his eyes. He touches Iron Sunrise on the side of the cheek with cold, clinical hoof, and the pony winces despite himself.
“Stable,” says Unathi.
“We won’t let you get in there,” shouts Midnight.
Unathi nods to Tariro.
Midnight watches, her face set like stone; Ivory looks away. Tariro begins gently, almost caressing the helpless Iron Sunrise. He puts his surgical tools one by one over a metallic tray, the blades and needles kept impeccably clean despite all the adversities. He reaches for a long scalpel and slowly traces a red line over Iron sunrise’s chest as if to test his skin. Then comes the pain, the doctor prods and cuts with precision, causing just enough pain to make him scream, but not enough for him to pass out.
“Where Stable?” asks Unathi.
Midnight looks at him, her face showing all the hatred and anger she feels. “You bucking barbarians, we should have burned every last one of you!”
Unathi steps in and swung a hoof across Midnight’s face, knocking her on her back. Midnight sat there a moment, her head spinning from the blow, she feels a loosened tooth. As Midnight get up, a lopsided smile came to her angular face.
“You hit like a little foal.”
“Talk Stable! Or Pain.”
“No,” says Midnight. “We will not betray our friends, Luna protects!”
Unathi raises his hoof in rage, poised to strike, but the sudden crackle of an explosion interrupts him, the entire building shudders under the impact. The concrete, weakened by years of exposition to the elements is brittle, cracks under the explosion.
The report of gunfire comes from the outside, Midnight recognizes the sound of MS-7’s shooting in synchrony that is quickly answered with the louder sound of the zebra’s rifles firing in three round bursts.
Ivory takes the moment of distraction, as zebras hurry to man the defenses outside, to free herself of the odious cold-iron ring around her horn. She puts her horn trough the metal mesh and with a quick twist of her head she breaks it by the half, pain flares through her entire body, spreading like electricity, magic sputtering uncontrollably from her stump. The iron ring falls harmlessly to the ground. The pain threatens to overwhelm her rationality, invite the sweet release of unconsciousness, but she forces herself awake, force any figment of magic she can summon to break the lock of their cage.
Midnight dashes ahead to free Iron Sunrise from the two zebras holding him down. She hits the first with a spinning buck, two hooves to the face. A satisfying crunching sound as the zebra is thrown to the ground.
The second has time to react, parrying a punch, only to be overtaken by the bloodied Iron Sunrise, the bat-pony gets over the zebra and punches with savage glee, again and again, until his hooves are covered in blood. Iron Sunrise screeches angrily.
Unathi turns his rifle towards the two bat-ponies, trigger bit in his mouth. Crackling magic hit him, the chaotic stream of Ivory’s warped spells sets off the medallions on his rifle, swallows him in an instantaneous conflagration. The zebra screams, a normal pony would have been swallowed by the pain, but his alchemically enhanced body keeps moving. He charges towards Midnight.
The thestral tries to dodge out of his way, but the zebra tackles her, throws her to the ground even as he delivers punch after punch with mad strength, pounding his bare hooves against the pony.
Midnight spins on the ground and kick the zebra back, hurls him against the wall, and gets her whole weight behind the next punch, driving it between his eyes and smashing his headback against the hard stone, leaving a bloody stain as he slumps to one side.
Midnight swings around to dodge a furious punch, dancing nimbly to the left. With a quick jab she hits the zebra under his left shoulder.
There’s a faint rumbling of the earth, a tremor as bombs hit the ground, spilling liquid fire around the camp. The flames dances and spread even as the zebras move to extinguish them.
Unathi charges with abnormal speed, throwing the thestral outside of the building and into the snow.
Midnight rolls away of a stomp and with a beat of her wings was on her hind hooves, front hooves ready to strike.
Around them battle rages with the thunder of gunfire and explosions. Somewhere above, Dahlia and the remains of the night guard flew just under the clouds, dropping bombs and strafing the zebra’s positions in quick dashes, never stopping for even a moment.
Unathi clenches his teeth, the pain consumed his reason. He took to his hind legs, front hooves raised in the kokawa style, zebra boxing.
“You ruined it!” he screams, his bloodshot eyes afire with fanatical hate, his face pock-marked with burn marks.
The zebra punches with strength and speed, moving fast on his hind legs, but the bat moved fast with a combination of hooves and wings, half walking, half flying. She attacks with a combination of kicks and fast punches.
Unathi punches her hard upon the jaw, the blow connecting with a satisfying crack. Midnight flinches under the unexpected force of the blow, but manages to stay on her hooves. Unathi hits again, knocking her back, but by the time he closes in on the bat-pony, Midnight responds with a spinning kick, keeping out of his range.
“Go back to your land,” she shouts. “There will be only death for you in Equestria!”
Unathi stands for a moment, his breath coming fast and short. “It’s all right,” he says at last. “There’s only death for us anywhere.”
He surges forwards swiftly with a quick combination of punches to Midnight’s chest, stealing the thestral’s breath. Midnight reeled back, coughing spastically.
“You will never succeed,” Midnight coughs. “Even if you find the Stable, all of your army can’t break inside, the whole place was made to survive a balefire bomb!”
Unathi charges and Midnight sends him stumbling back with a back kick, blood comes out of his nose.
“We will die here!” Unathi screams in rage. “All of zebra will die here!”
Unathis strikes with a feint to the left only to come with a jab from the right, Midnight turns with the attack, throwing her hind hooves to Unathi’s chest. Before the zebra can recover she jumps over him, locking his arm and forcing a hoof against his neck.
To end it would be a simple question of putting enough weight against the hind hoof, his neck would break in a moment. The moment stretches into infinity, she looks over the zebras, over to Dahlia in the sky still harassing them.
And still, those weren’t simple raiders, they were soldiers looking for a place to survive and thrive, they had already faced incredible odds to make it into Equestria. In many ways they weren’t so different from her own group and the path they had traced since they first departed from Ponyville twenty years ago.
She can see herself in the snow-covered zebra, his singed fur and determined eyes. And just like her, she knows he will not stop at anything to guarantee the survival of his soldiers.
“I have seen the Stable’s door,” she declares. “You will spend every bullet, every gram of explosive, break your hooves against it and you will make not a single scratch on it.”
The zebra shook his head. “Then we are good as dead, we crossed the great white to seek salvation.”
“It doesn’t need to end like that,” Midnight retorted. “You and your zebras can still survive.”
“We have not enough food or supplies,” Unathi replies. “If this is to be our last battlefield then so be it.”
Midnight Reverie releases him and takes a step back.
“You never wanted to survive,” she states as fact. “You just wanted to find some place to go out in a blaze of glory, isn’t it?”
Unathi gets up on his hind hooves and raises his fists in combat pose, but Midnight shakes her head.
The gunfire dies down, the zebras and wereponies all focus on the two of them.
“We will not help you die, go and take a long walk on the wastes if that’s what you want, but every zebra that wants to live is welcome to come with us, we have place for everyone in our train.”
Unathi looks at her in confusion, taking a moment to understand her words.
“You want to survive, then lower your weapons and come with us,” Midnight says almost like an order. “Keep fighting and you will all perish here, a long, slow, and pointless death!”
Unathi looks from his legionnaires to the bat-ponies, he felt so tired. After thousands of miles and dozens of different battlefields, now he felt truly and completely tired. Midnight Reverie extended her roof, an inviting smile on her face.
Unathi takes her hoof.