//------------------------------//
// dreaming 
// Story: Mapping Manehattan 
// by The Red Parade 
//------------------------------//

Maneway Station is empty. The massive, sprawling center is lit up from the rays of sunlight that stream through the open windows. Bags and pieces of luggage are scattered about the terminal floor, mostly untouched.

Lightning is digging through a backpack that’s crammed full of clothes and supplies. From someone who tried to get out in a hurry. A lot of ponies did back when quarantine was first established. But they stood and watched as the military descended on them like a horde of flies around a rotting fruit.

She moves a hoof to the front pocket, rummaging around and pulling out a small wedding ring. It puts a smile on Lightning’s face. Marriage. It’s such a strange thing to think about now. But love’s still a concept. It’s not dead yet. 

Obviously they can’t have a ceremony like they used to, with dresses and suits and cake. At best they might be able to find an official and get married in the hotel garden or something. Lightning feels how light the ring is in her hoof. She wonders how much this would have cost in the old world. 

Lightning was never a romantic. But she still dreamed of a beautiful future. She imagined a simple ceremony, with friends and family at a Cloudsdale chapel. Of course, those things are all long gone now. 

She closes her eyes and sighs. A few nights ago she dreamt that everything was okay. She dreamt that she was at a bar, surrounded by her brothers and sisters in arms as they drank and cheered. And Fiddle was there too somehow, laughing alongside her. And everything was okay.

It didn’t make a lot of sense to her. Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was something else. Lightning doesn’t really know. But she’s had stranger dreams. Last week she dreamt about the first time they met the boss…

Or, rather, the time the boss almost killed her and Fiddle had to talk her out of it. Except in her dream, Fiddle wasn’t there. And Lightning just had to sit there as the boss landed punch after punch onto her. And from behind her she saw an army of ponies surround them, cheering and yelling. Laughing. Waiting for her to die. 

Lightning shakes off the thought. It was just a dream anyways. It didn’t mean anything. She stands up, dropping the bag to the floor. She pockets the ring in and looks around the empty station. It’s completely quiet. 

It’s serene, in its own kind of way. She can see little specks of dust floating through the air in the sunlight. In the past it would have been full of ponies now, getting their tickets and running to catch their train. Now it’s just empty, like everything else.

Midnight Strike calls out her name. Fiddle’s hearing some gunshots from outside. They have to move. Lightning blinks. They better go check it out. But her mind’s set now: she’ll wait for the right time. Whenever that is.