Fallout: Equestria - Murky Number Seven

by FuzzyVeeVee

Blessing of the Stripes

    “What was it like to now have a goal in life?”

    It's all too easy to talk about having something to shoot for.  Something to aim at and hope beyond all wishes to attain. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to realise just how long that path was going to have to be.

    Did I want my freedom? Of course, but I wasn't sure anymore on exactly how, not after speaking with Protégé about what I truly understood or not about the risks. That great outside world, if I went out into it with the same naivety I had shown, could have had a very short and brutal end for all I knew.

    Did I just want to escape the pain?  My mindset had led me to consider this route in the wrong way one too many times before, and the risk of falling into that again never really went away.  When no exit was given, I found myself more and more beginning to turn to options that I would normally never consider. Some risky, some very final. I had come too close to that once already.

    Was it to discover those who would care for me as much as I wanted to care in return?  But then, who truly would? Pegasi were hated in Fillydelphia, and I certainly wasn't the most charismatic and confident pony who ever lived.  If asked my name by someone I didn't know, chances are I'd just squeak and avoid eye contact.

    I didn't know what I really wanted, but the thought of going beyond the wall was the sole remaining thing that kept me from going mad with grief at the situation I had been dealt now.

    But after meeting Brimstone, Glimmerlight, and Protégé, things had been changed.  

Now, I had been given two paths to trot down.  One a lifeline, tenuous and vague but a desperate hope all the same. To save Glimmerlight and pray that she agreed to help me in the escape.  Her brief words gave me reason to believe that this was worth trying for at the very least. It was a risky endeavor, but the chance to attain the aid of somepony else would go a long way towards a successful attempt.

    On the other hoof, there was Protégé's offer.  Two years service and danger in exchange for my eventual freedom.  The callousness he showed to even smile as he signed me on to this “operation” spoke volumes of the reasons behind my shaky trust of that pony.  Good intentions and a supposedly caring mindset mattered little when he was still the pony holding me against my will and forcing me into dangerous situations.  All the same, somehow I couldn't shake the feeling that he understood me better than anypony else. If Brimstone and Glimmerlight cast me out, he would be my only vague ally left in the nightmare that was Fillydelphia.

The momentum from seeing the Stable Dweller's escape was beginning to falter over time.  I desperately needed a figurehead, somepony to give me a reason. Perhaps that's why I was following a raider, who had once abused ponies like me for fun, in an effort to just be doing something, anything at all to chase some way to get my escape back on track. Was it because I craved to break the loneliness? Or was it just because he had the authority that I couldn't say no to?  My duality of personality was still a tough obstacle in my head, dredged up all over again after The Master had set himself upon me.  

    I really wished I had something better to hang on to.  I only had to take care of myself in the past. To survive.  To get my journal back. To attempt escape. I'd gained a certain confidence that The Master had broken once more.

    I needed it back, I needed something to prove to myself that I could still do this sort of thing and not go back to being the mindless slave I once was.

    I needed to save Glimmerlight, not just for her life, not just for the vague wish that she would become an ally, but also to give me something to cling to; something that I could use to remind myself that I was not beaten yet.

    It wasn't much of a goal...

    But for now, as I set myself upon the longer road, it was enough to get started.

    Hearts and Hooves Hospital had clearly seen better days.

    The building was old, sandstone and brickwork mismatched from different generations of renovation, and surrounded by a ripped and wrecked barbed fence of the war era.  On top of it all, wasteland-style scrap and rough repair jobs had further broken the balance of visual appeal. It offended every artistic sense I had to merely even look at the sprawling complex's low buildings that seemed to expand outward rather than upwards around the higher central wards.  Old wagons lay on their side, their pink and yellow design marred and dust-covered. I could see at least a dozen of them, prompting me to wonder why they hadn't been renovated for use by Red Eye. A closer look explained why. They were sky wagons. Without pegasi, they were useless to him. But even they had been stripped of anything useful, owing to Red Eye's insistence to use anything and everything. I had occasionally seen griffons with similar carts, but these were much too small for those towering mercenaries.

    That same ruthless mindset had created Fillydelphia and repaired much of what it could do.  Before me sat another element of proof to that claim. The hospital was not exactly bustling, but I could see lights inside, slaves on watch duty outside (I presumed a medical area dedicated to more important slaves didn't warrant a full guard routine), and even I could hear the hum of arcane science from healers doing their work within.

    Brimstone and I had been holed up within a warehouse across from the hospital for an uncomfortably long time now already.  I had taken to looking around with observation to try and stop my mind from wandering to the recent events with The Master.

    For some time, I did take to trying to guess the ages of the houses around us. Some were similar to one another and made of what looked like modular components. They were almost bare, but for identical fences. Or at least where identical fences would have been. The wood had either rotted away, or been taken off by the industry. 

    Yet others, as I looked closer, broke the monotony. Broken timber and fine brickwork had become stained, but I saw brighter colours dashed away here and there. Porches hung over verandas, rather than the flat doors the newer buildings had. Carvings and elaborate shapes gave them life and personality.

    They were all different. It occurred to me that I was seeing the divide between wartime and pre-war in the very houses that ponies lived in. As I looked closer, I could see the newer ones were often wedged between older ones, as though cramming more ponies into the same city space.
   
    Unfortunately, as much as the history from observation occupied my mind, it didn’t really hold my attention for long from the limited amount I could see from my hiding spot. Dropping from the ledge with a sigh, I found my companion not faring any better. The big stallion was pacing and tapping rocks incessantly.  He had said patience wasn't his strong point and this was only proving it.  

As such, I'd decided to try conversation and found myself met with a surprisingly amiable response on various topics.  For example, now I knew the best way to break a pony's leg was to buck it just above the kneecap, and that apparently swearing was a subject that I was most uneducated in.

    “So what you're telling me,” rumbled Brimstone, “is that you've never said 'fuck' in your life?  Never?”

    He seemed almost shocked to meet somepony who just didn't swear.  Brimstone scared the life out of me with almost every movement he made, and social interaction on a conversational level was clearly about as new to him as it was to me in many ways.  Throughout speaking, I had always seen that glint in his eye whenever I'd began saying anything that offended his ‘survival of the fittest’ mindset.

    “Well, I've thought it a few times...”

    “But never just shouted it?  What plane of innocence are you from that you've never given out a right good swear?  Aye, we're going to change that. Go on.”

    I sat up. What was he asking me? I blurted out an answer without too much thought.

    “Go on?  I...what?  I don't get you.”

    Brimstone sighed and shifted his weight to lie on the other side in our secluded little hiding spot I'd found.  I'd felt so proud when he'd nodded in appreciation at it.

    “Say it!  Can't have a midget like you unable to swear properly when the world decides to fuck him up.”

    I rubbed my hooves against one another. “I'm not sure I really want to.”

    “Try.”

    “Please I...”

    “Just give it a go.  We're bored here anyway.  Amuse me.”

    My jaw was hanging open.  I'd always felt nervous when I'd even thought of the word!  Or any swear word for that matter! My mother had always taught me not to, that to swear or curse in the Goddesses' name was bad.  Over time, I'd broken the second one a few times (sorry, sorry, please don't send me to the moon!), but always kept control of my voice.  But then, perhaps I'd fit in better if I talked like them?

    “Um, ok. I'll try?”

    “Aye.”

    “Alright. What about?”

    Brimstone rolled his eyes, muttering something about 'bloody sunlickers' and shrugged.

    “Anything, something you don’t feel good about.  Who do you really, really not feel safe around?”

    My first thought was 'You!' but I doubted it would help my present situation of being on the better side of this massive and potentially dangerous pony.  I still remembered him choking me against a wall for daring suggest the wrong thing about him.

    But who did I hate?  Wicked Slit was a particularly loathsome presence in Fillydelphia, as was Sooty Morass, and of course Noose.  I hated Protégé for his insistence to not let me go. I hated Red Eye for buying me in the first place and putting me into this nightmare.

    But really, there was always going to be one answer.

    “I...really hate The Master.”

    “Shackles?  Pisspot of nasty, that bastard is. See? Now you try. Say you fucking hate him or something.”

    I sat up and took a deep breath, closing my eyes.  I was actually shivering. What if he heard me? What if word got back to him?  What if Celestia and Luna heard me? What if Brimstone laughed at how bad I was at proper swearing?

    Really, they paled in comparison to the real worry.

    What if somepony told my mother?

    “I...”

    I could do this, I could rebel a little!  Show The Master he couldn’t take my freedom of voice!

    “I really...really f—”

    I felt my face screw up and the word fall flat suddenly.  Brimstone just shook his head.

    “What is wrong with you?  It's just a wee word, nothing to get worried over.  Try again.”

    “I...I really f—”

    No!  I wasn't gonna give up, I'm doing it now!

    “I really fudging hate him!”

    There was a dull 'thunk' as Brimstone facehoofed.  Hard.

    “This could take some time. Couldn't it?”

    I just nodded meekly, muttering small apologies under my breath.  However, my ears perked up as I heard a sound from outside. The sound we'd been waiting for.  Noticing me perk up, Brimstone peered above the ruined windowsill.

    “Looks like a bit of waiting paid off.  Guard change. New ones won't be as keen to do the night shift, so getting past them shouldn't be too hard.  You distract one and I'll take him out.”

    “Wait, you're going to kill a slave!?”

    “Yes. And?”

    His eyes glanced over at little me, the small pony so pathetic that he couldn't even swear, as though asking wordlessly whether I really was as useless to him as I was seeming.  But it slammed home again. He might act nicer sometimes, but when it came to saving the one he cared about, he would become the raider all over again to make it happen. Eventually, as I stared with a horrified look, he seemed to deflate slightly and shake his head.

    “You look like her when you stare like that, y'know?  Fine, I'll try not to do it.”

    As we climbed down, I heard him muttering to himself about going far too soft around mares and little bucks.  I clambered down as best as I could on my injured shoulder before we began to creep toward the hospital itself.

    I wanted to help save a life with this, not end others.  The slaves hated me for my wings, but I would be damned if I was going to hate them back for the same stupid reason.

    “Ergh. I hadn't counted on them nailing the guards to the wall.”

    Brimstone had spotted something I had overlooked.  The slaves were chained to the wall beside the door.  Any knocked-out or dead body would be out in the open and easily spotted, while they could never leave their posts no matter what happened.  I wondered if The Master had come up with that one for Red Eye, it had his horrific practicality all over the concept. As such, the plan to use me to distract one before knocking them out had been thrown completely out the window now that the guards could not leave their highly visible locations where a body would be noticed within minutes.  As we advanced and crouched behind the outer wall, we both looked around the corner (Brimstone normally, me crouched beneath him) and hunted for ways in. Brimstone Blitz nodded suddenly and lowered his voice.

    “Got a way in.”

    “Where?”

    “First floor.  Pull across a wagon, I'll stand on it, then you stand on my back.  You'll have to do it alone, now. But it's better than leaving an unconscious guard where they'll find it immediately.  Just don't get stepped on.”

    My heart skipped a beat as the meaning of his words drove home.  I'd have to sneak through a slave hospital run by...well, the slavers, and steal medicine with no back-up inside?  Also, what was with all the shortness quips? I wasn't that small.  Nopony messed with Littlepip. I had heard so on the radio and she was about the same height as me!

    “I don't know if I can do this Brim. How will I even know the medicine?”

    “It's called RadPurge. Some rare knockoff brand, but it's safe for Glimmer to use to avoid the ingredients in RadAway that she's allergic to.  Just look for that.”

    “But I...”

    I backed off, looking off to the side with a sigh. I really hated admitting this.

    “...I can't read.”

    “Are you kidding me?  Seriously, Murk, are you kidding me?  You're how old?”

    I didn't quite know actually, only a rough estimate.  I didn't even know my birthday, not that anypony truly knew dates outside of fancier settlements.  Even then they differed. I just hung my head in embarrassment as Brimstone groaned and shook his head.

    “Damn it all. Look, it's like RadAway. You know what that looks like?”

    I nodded.

    “Right, good.  It's like that but a much darker orange.  Almost a brown. Alright?”

    Okay, that I could do.  I nodded before glancing back round again.  The sky wagon he intended to push up was nicely out of sight, but my nerves were still shot.  Alone in vents was one thing. Creeping past slavers? That hadn't ended well last time.

    “Come along, Murk.  Just get started and you'll figure it out.”

    “But I—”

    “Wheesht.”

    “Huh?  What does that-”

    “It means 'shut up'!  Now come on.”

    His voice held a tone of authority.  I'd forgotten he had led others. I felt the slave in my mind bidden to obey the command as I trotted quietly after the big earth pony toward the wagon, wondering if I really was making this choice on my own or if it was only because he was telling me to help him.

    Some days, I wished I could tell the difference of choice from obedience.

    Inside I didn't find much I hadn't expected.  There were wards with little cleanliness and rather disturbing traces of red stained into the floor.  Slaves groaned from open wounds while anypony with a degree of medical ability was moving around, checking the patients.  Too many times I saw them sigh dejectedly and move on.

    Thankfully, nopony seemed to mind me being there amidst the strangely slow-paced yet chaotic scene of pain and half-hearted healing that took place around me.  Even so, I quickly snatched some bandages from an empty bedside and used them to cover my PipBuck. It mostly looked like scrap, but there was no sense in taking the chance.  Perhaps they might think I was injured and had a right to be here.

    The thought quickly occurred that I was injured.  Just I wasn't considered valuable enough to send to this place for treatment.  I guess Protégé's admittedly appreciated efforts to protect me didn't extend to getting me on to the list of “valued” slaves.  Perhaps they just didn't like pegasi.

    The corridors were of an old wooden construction, clearly very old.  I could feel them creaking under my hooves. Indeed, some areas looked about ready to give way and fall.  Whatever renovation efforts Red Eye had made were clearly minimal in priority. How could slave marketeers like Sooty and Artery get away with having so much stock and yet there was never enough for those here?  It just wasn't fair.

    I passed a young earth pony buck about my age.  Teal and white, he whimpered on an old mouldy mattress in the nearest ward.  His two front legs were just gone. Had he stepped on a mine? I found myself standing and watching him for a second, just lying there crying into the mattress and trying to move limbs that weren't there. Now he'd never walk again.

    The fate of the one poor slave that lost a leg to the thresher came back to my mind.

    Shuddering, I found myself forced to move on.  There had to be a medicine cupboard somewhere.

    A sudden door banging and agonised screaming dragged me from my thoughts as I saw a stretcher magically pulled before me.  Ducking into the ward to let them by, I squeaked and hid as I saw Whiplash following it at top speed.

    “Don't you dare let her die!  She's one of my best workers! Slit will have my ear if I can’t get her on shifts in future!”

    “Yes, master!  Bloodbank, get to the stash and bring a brace with a syringe of Med-X!”

    “Yes, doctor!”

    Peeking out from the ward, I saw a light pink mare thrashing in pain on the stretcher as two unicorns desperately tried to hold her down.  I saw a red pony in a bloodstained overall gallop off down the hall even as the stretcher and Whiplash disappeared around the corner. After all I'd been through, he really didn't seem too much of a threat these days.

    At a canter, I followed Bloodbank as the procession disappeared through another set of doors.  Even further away, I could still pick up her squealing in the distance. The sound made my stomach churn as it heightened when they undoubtedly began work to fix whatever had happened to her.

    Bloodbank moved fast, charging around to a doorway.  The fact he stopped to get a key was the only real reason I even caught up without moving too fast to seem overly suspicious.  Even so, I nearly ran into a couple of orderlies magically carrying trays of implements, prompting some shouting to watch where the hell I was going even as I hopped and wobbled out of their way.  By the time I found him, he was coming out of the room again and locking it once more. I felt the urge to say the word Brimstone had wanted, but at least I now knew where the medicine was kept.

    Waiting for Bloodbank to leave, I crept up the door, watching left and right for anypony coming.  This was a more deserted area of the hospital, clearly to keep the chems away from those who might seek to acquire them from their beds.  To an extent, I had to marvel at the organisation for how little they had. These ponies were trying to help those brought to them. Bloodbank had looked concerned.  Not for the first time, I wondered if casting Red Eye and his forces as absolute monsters was a truly accurate conclusion.  Perhaps The Master was just the exception? The others were harsh, yes, but...

    Shaking my head, I pushed on.  This was no place to get involved with inner thoughts.  I tried adjoining rooms, finding only some old bathrooms (why I still felt guilty for glancing into the mare's room by accident I had no idea) and eventually, a less vital storage cupboard. With any luck, this might have what I needed.

Stepping fully inside it and pulling the closed behind me, I began to hunt around its contents from within.  Metal boxes of the ever-rich designer were mixed with piles of old medical robes. Judging by the dust on it all, this hadn't been touched in quite a while. In fact, if I had been in this place more permanently, I may have made a hidey hole in here.  The last item was a small toolbox. Out of curiosity, I opened it. Perhaps it'd have something to get that lock open?

    A hammer, small saw, nuts, bolts, metal ruler (truly a lethal weapon), wonderglue, a screwdriver, and some bobby pins.

    Nothing that could be used to pick a lock.  I stifled a curse, or what amounted to a curse by my standards, and took just the ruler.  It'd help me make straight lines on my drawings at least. I stuffed it into the pouch I'd sewn on the bottom of my fleece and sat back against the wall to think.

    This just wasn't my area.  Sure I was a little thief, that I'd come to accept, but getting through obstacles was just beyond me.  The mare would probably have known how, she seemed intelligent. Brimstone would probably just knock and the door would open from sheer terror of the alternative.  Protégé...well, he would just use the key.

    But for a little thief like Murky Number Seven, like me, what could I do?

    Tossing ideas around, I gave up somewhere around hoping I had an undiscovered talent for making explosives out of wonderglue and lint before realising the obvious.

    I was a thief.  There was a key.

    Well, duh.

    It took a few minutes to relocate Bloodbank as I followed the same wailing that still sounded through the hospital.  I trotted through a cloth hung above the corridor and stopped. All this walking and running was not doing my shoulder any good at all.  I wondered if they had anymore Med-X in that cupboard, that had worked last time pretty nicely.

    Bloodbank was standing outside a room separated by a clear perspex viewing window.  Behind it, I could see the mare thrashing as a unicorn tried to get the syringe of Med-X into her.  I dared not look too closely, I didn't particularly want to see some gruesome injury to keep me up at night. Bloodbank's key was rather convenient, hanging from his side lapel for easy access with magic. However, even as I began to slowly approach, I could see how reflective the perspex was.  Any attempt to sneak up and lift it would be spotted instantly.

    I tapped the goggles on my head while thinking.  Bloodbank had acknowledged my presence with a brief glance, but seeing the bandage just grunted and looked back into what I guessed was the operating theatre.

    “If you're a visitor for Pettle Leaf here, you'll have to wait.”

    I spotted a quick chance and an idea.  I couldn't sneak up to him, so I'd do the next best thing.

    “Pettle Leaf!?  Sweet Celestia, is she alright?  Please! I have to see her!”

    I threw on my most dramatic and pained voice, letting my pitch go almost to breaking point as I galloped forward toward the window.  Bloodbank sighed, turning to block my way.

    “I said I am sorry but you cannot—”

    I 'tripped.' Slamming into Bloodbank, the pair of us tumbled to the floor.  I was given an unexpected lesson in swearing as he rose to his hooves and battered me around the head once or twice for acting so clumsy in a hospital.  Shooing me out, I pretended to struggle and whine as I was almost thrown through the curtain again. With a final scream to never get in the way again, I was painfully half-bucked across the floor.  Groaning, clutching my side, I cowered into the corner of the reception as everypony else stared.

    But at least I had the key, hidden in my mouth from one pickpocketing little swipe.

    I was feeling at least moderately proud.  I'd gotten in without harming anypony, and I could just leave the key behind the unlocked door when I left so the doctor's would still be able to access it and treat others.  We'd save a life without hurting anypony!

    Well, almost.  Flippy Bit's hatred still resounded in my mind.  But that had been an accident, right? Brimstone would have let him go if he hadn't died on the doorway, right?  Right?

    I knew I was wrong, but right now I needed to stay as optimistic as I could.  I was trying to build confidence to pursue something bigger again. I couldn't afford to always second guess myself.

    I was moving back toward the medicine cupboard again when I spotted another doctor leaving the room once more.  I had to fight to not gasp as I galloped back to the last corner and hid behind it while he passed by. He was carrying just what I needed!  Elation filled me as he left and I galloped back to the door, unlocked it and triumphantly ran in. This place definitely had the right stuff!

    It didn't.

    The shelves were stocked with pretty basic medicine in small doses. I guessed it was for quickly grabbing the amount they needed, separated into the smaller amounts. I saw watered down healing potions glittering with varied colours in the dark, and packs of tablets piled haphazardly together. An unusually large quantity of what looked like mouthwash was piled in a box on the floor, letting my stand on them to reach the higher shelves. The my disappointment, there was only a smattering of higher end chems and medical supplies. Med-X was stored in yellow locked boxes with clear plastic covers, while scant few packs of blood were held in a freezer unit running off a wire through the wall.

Unfortunately, there was a clear gap beside the RadAway shelf where only one of the orange packets remained.  Truth be told, I'd been planning to steal some more. They'd get restocked right? But seeing the pitiful amounts, and remembering the suffering of slaves all around me, I couldn't.  It would be as bad as becoming a slaver myself.

    The words of the first Doctor came back to me.  'The' medicine cupboard.  Singular. This was the only one.

    There was no RadPurge left.

    I'd failed Glimmerlight.

    I collapsed onto my knees in the middle of the cupboard, remembering her wonderfully peaceful and energetic look even through her sickness.  I realised just how much I'd wanted to meet this wonderful mare who Brim had claimed didn't care what type of pony I was. But now she wasn't going to survive because I couldn't figure out a damned lock fast enough to beat the last of the stock being taken.

    Unless...

    I turned back to the entranceway and hobbled out as fast as I could.  There was one more of them in the building, and I was going to get it no matter what!  She deserved life! She didn't hate me! That Rad-whatever belonged to her!

    It had taken some searching, but eventually, I located it.  This run around the hospital had been beginning to annoy me, and a few orderlies were starting to get suspicious as well.  I had tried the 'messenger' trick again, but even then most of them kept glancing as I moved past. I avoided whoever I could, but nopony could truly hide in those well lit corridors.

    It didn't matter.  I had found the patient the medicine had been taken to.  A nurse had been about to connect it, but one quick crazed shouting from me later, they had galloped off thinking they were urgently needed for an emergency.

    Now there was just me and the RadPurge.  That sickly brownish stuff lay on the side table, unconnected and fresh.  All it would take is for one quick snatch, shove it in my pouch, and then make my way to the entrance and trot out.  Nopony would question somepony leaving!  I felt my heart lift, I had done it!  Reaching forward, I bit down on the RadPurge.

    “Mm?  Who...who's there?”

    I yelped and hopped back, holding the RadPurge in my mouth as I stared at the source of the noise.  On the bed lay a mare covered by a thin blanket. She turned to me, eyes still closed from weakness.

    A sense of déjà vu flowed over me.  The symptoms were precisely the same.  The illness the same.

    This mare was suffering the exact same problem.  She lay there, pale grey with a wondrously coloured blue, black, and white long mane tied into a ponytail, with two braided strands across her face.  True to form, she was also a unicorn who looked a good bit older than me, like she could have been my mother.

    She was also very, very sick.

    “Did...did you find some?”

    I glanced at the mare, then down my own muzzle at the RadPurge.  They would get more, right? They would restock! I could just turn and walk away, be a good little thief...

    Glimmerlight deserved it more than...

    ...anypony?

    She looked so weak.  My head lowered, feeling a shuddering start throughout my body already.  Too late, I noticed my ears warning my off somepony approaching.

    “What are you doing!?”

    Shocked, I squealed out loud and dropped the sachet before stumbling back and falling against the side of the bed, startling the mare.  The nurse had returned and stood directly in the doorway, quite out of breath. Her coat and mane were blazing yellow and red, and her eyes wide with surprise.

    “Were...were you?”

    Her eyes fell to the RadPurge before falling back to me.  Having it all laid before me, I realised what I had truly been reduced to.  To stealing from a critically injured pony with no proof of them being good or bad to help somepony else.  To simply take the easy way out, and lose all morals and ethics in the process. Not once had I even stopped to think and realise the path I had been walking down.  Who was I to judge life against life?

    It quickly overcame me, as I imagined my mother, the DJ, the mare, and even Littlepip looking down upon me disapprovingly.  I collapsed to the floor in tears.

    “I'm sorry!  I...I didn't...I needed— I...”

    Words came with great difficulty as I cried my heart out.  Partially because the overwhelming guilt, and partially from the terrifying thought that Fillydelphia was slowly but surely beginning to push me to do this sort of thing.

    Yet no matter how hard the world said I had to push to make it out of here, no matter how Protégé’s told that I had to be willing to do anything to get out of here, no matter how much this city spoke of sacrifice for freedom, I knew something else. That even if it made it harder, I still had my own way, my way, that mattered to me.

    And this was not it.

    The nurse picked the sachet from the floor with her telekinesis, placing it beside the bed of the frankly stunned mare.  The sick patient wasn't sitting up to look down at me, being too weak. But the nurse advanced across to me. Her expression seemed to have softened.

    “You were going to take it, but this patient will die by tomorrow without this last sachet.  She has an—”

    “An-an allergy!  I know,” I sniffed, “but somepony else does too, but I—hnk—I don't think she's able to come here. I just wanted to help her...”

    Her face dropped any remaining sternness it had possessed as she drew breath lightly. Her horn flickered over me.

    “I can see you have an irradiated lung infection, a serious one.  This isn't for that? Look me in the eyes and tell me.”

    Opening my soaking wet eyes fully, I quivered as I looked up at her.

    “I would never have!  It's for somepony else who-who means a lot to...a friend.  She is in the exact same position as...”

    I raised my hoof to point at the patient.  The nurse was quiet, before dropping a small cloth for me and kneeling down. Her voice remained stern, but I could sense a gentle nature behind it.

    “Dry your tears.  I can see you're honest.  This was wrong, but your heart was in the right place at least. Enough that you say what you were doing.  I wouldn't be a nurse if I couldn't respect that to some degree. Even if I work for Red Eye, that doesn't mean I don't follow the same code that Doctor Weathervane taught us, he's pretty intense about that stuff.  Look, I'd give you some, but we have none spare. Well...”

    Well?  Well what?  As I got up slowly, I could see the mare had seemingly fallen into a restless sleep even with us two talking.  She really was in a bad way. Why hadn't I seen that?

    “There might be some in the basement.  But that's dangerous, you see. When the megaspells hit, it was flooded from a waterline that came from the impact site.  The water is long gone, but the radiation is intense down there. It would badly affect your lung if you were to try, but there is an old supply room that we've been unable to reach.  Usually Doctor Weathervane brings enough that we don't need to bother even considering going down, but if you really are willing to go to these lengths...”

    I didn't even need to think.  If anything, I now realised more what drove Brimstone Blitz.  I had damaged my own innocent nature here. If I had to risk life and limb to get that medicine to make up for almost doing the wrong thing to attain my own goals, so be it.

    That is, what life and limb I had left.

    The nurse had taken me to a back door, letting me out. As I wandered around the hospital grounds to try and find this basement entrance, I began to feel the poisoned air doing its work again the moment the cleaner hospital environment ended.  My throat was dry from the air around the crimson hell of Fillydelphia the moment I stepped outside. Very hastily, I regretted not stashing away one of my RadAways that Protégé had given to help me stay healthy. 

At least my shoulder, while aching terribly, still was mostly functional.  My stomach, however, was tightening itself and growling. Shivers crawled up through my body from lack of sustenance or any form of proper nutrition.  The last thing I had eaten was the apple stew given to me by Protégé. In my still recovering state, it just wasn't enough.

    If only I found fresh food and RadAway as much as I found ponies I left without knowing the names of.

    Very quickly, I wondered why my cutie mark talent was to be a good little slave and not one of finding mysteriously strange unicorn mares.  Furthermore, while I was hardly ‘looking’ given my present situation, why was my luck in meeting mares who actually talked to me only finding those too old for me, already taken, or sick?  Well, there was one, but she was a wasteland legend whom I'd never have a chance with in my entire life, no matter how simply awesome she was.

    I stopped briefly. I'd shoved those thoughts aside before, but they did keep coming back.  I remembered Sundial's words about the mare he liked, Skydancer. Sure, I appreciated the look of a mare as much as the next buck, (especially if they were actually the same size as me) but did I really think of Littlepip like that?  Was it just misplaced pining for the dream of being alongside a hero? I'd only seen her briefly and never even talked to her.

    No. No, not the time for those thoughts, I warned myself. ‘Dangerous irradiated area ahead, Murky.  Concentrate!’

    All the same, they might have been confusing, but I could admit to somewhat enjoying the feeling of perhaps a little crush.

    Maybe it was just silly fantasy, but one way or the other, it gave me something nice to dream of to help keep my mind from feeling too guilty from my nearly horribly wrong thievery earlier.

    It was the small things that kept you going in this city.

    Brimstone found me spluttering and coughing through a bank of contaminated dust blown in from the nearby crater.  Dropping on my side near him for a breather, I reflected that I should probably have asked for something to fight the radiation while inside, especially given where I was about to go. Unfortunately, I presumed they likely had strict orders.

    I looked up at the muscular form of Brimstone peering down at me.

    “You don't have it.”

    The words held a lot of potential for violent anger at my coming out empty-hoofed.  Perhaps it would be best he didn't know that I had turned down some.

    “No, but I know where now.”

    I pointed a hoof toward a swing door that led to the basement.  It was locked as well, but that wouldn't prove any real obstacle to Brim.  I explained about the radiation, but as I had guessed, he didn't care in the slightest.  One slap with those 'Murky Number Seven's-head-sized hooves', and the basement lay open before us.  A darkened and dusty hole in the ground, probably untouched since the war.

    Pre-war.  Irradiated.  With a raider.

    Why didn't I ever get to go someplace nice?

    Not for the first time since we had descended was I beginning to realise how out of my depth I was.  I was just a little slave who tried to run away, not some die-hard adventurer like Brimstone or Littlepip.  Every ounce of me was fighting to keep my resolve strong, to stop me wanting to just turn and run. Protégé would understand, surely, if I turned up and just explained.  Maybe he'd help out and get some for Glimmerlight somehow?

    I hated the fact that I was caught myself wishing I could just go back to one of my old masters outside Fillydelphia, with a lot less scary things and pain all the time.

    I could just barely see down here.  Already the radiation was noticeable as I felt my chest begin to burn.  Each breath was laboured and I had to stop and cough every so often, much to Brimstone's annoyance.  I'd enjoyed a brief period of relief thanks to what I stole from Artery and then the healing I'd received from Protégé, but this place was bringing it all back.  The sick little slave buck dragging his hooves and coughing up blood had returned.

    Around us was little of note.  Almost pitch dark janitorial rooms littered each corridor.  Supply cupboards proved to be filled with racks of musty books or boxes of washers.  Large pipes creaked and groaned as we disturbed the environment around them. Or rather, as Brimstone disturbed the area.  If I ever needed to feel like I was better at something than somepony else, I simply had to think of his complete lack of consideration for the term 'stealth.'

    “Hey, Murk?”

    “Y-yes?” My voice trembled as my rough throat caught the words, leading me to splutter and grab a pipe to keep myself on my feet.  Brimstone seemed unaffected thus far. Perhaps he just didn't show it.

    “Had a thought.  If we need to gallop back and split up.  We need a better password for the cell door so I know it's you.”

    I was about to comment that a number of knocks had seemed to work.  But then, I was the moron who had got it wrong.

    “So, what do you suggest?”

    “Easy.  The password is 'fuck.'”

    Oh, not fair.

    Brim turned back to me, I could see him grinning in the darkness.  I guessed he liked to use a bit of banter to help relieve times when you could cut the tension with an auto axe.

    “Aye, that'll do.  Now, you should go up front. You seem to be able to see better than I in the dark.  These eyes don't work as well as they used to before that little scunner with the flamethrower a few years back.”

    “A little what? I mean, you sure?”

    “Aye.”

    Was he grinning?  What was the joke with simply saying ay—

    Oh.  Wow. I was slow today.  Sighing, I staggered up front, glad that at least Brimstone would be able to see if I were to be about to collapse.  Perhaps he'd carry me back out again. Perhaps he'd just leave me here? The worry shaking me led to another foul cough.  At least I wasn't vomiting blood yet.

    Each step I made was hardly without worry.  My eyes adjusted well to see a vague outline of thin corridors and irregular doorways that hardly seemed shaped for ponies at all.  I began to wonder if the designer had even thought of those who might have to access it during operation. Thick layers of dust were not helping my breathing one bit as I carefully edged around old tools and rusted objects that I couldn't even discern the original use of.

    My ears worked just fine though, and I didn't like what they were hearing.  Light shuffling and trotting. I froze on the spot, leaning down and hoping Brimstone would get the message as I closed my eyes and just listened.

    The sounds of something soft. Something irregular and organic. Every so often I heard metallic noises, similar to what we were making by trotting around all this plumbing and boiler kit.

    The thick concrete ceiling kept all sound from above out.  Whatever was moving was down here.

    My quivering became a fearful shake as I remembered the hellish zombie janitor thing in the dark. That howling mutilated and rotten face inches from my own haunted my every thought.  What I could hear was moving idly, dragging its hooves behind it and moving aimlessly.

    Just like that monster before.  I whined, fighting the urge to flee.

    “Brim,” I whispered, “I think there's a zombie.”

    “Not surprising, it's contaminated down here.  They live off that stuff. Just find a room, we're under the main building, so it should be nearby.”

    I really wished I could detect where that sound was from, but the ambience and thick walls were giving me no clues. Dust hung in the still air, while repaired plumbing squirted the occasional mist of steam into the corridors that blocked my vision.

Of course, it also make everything look like it was some other shape.

Now if I could just stay quiet, we might find the medicine and get out before whatever it was wandering these thin tunnels found us.  A nice doorway just close to me, that'd do to begin the search.

    Placing my front hooves on the door, I pushed.  In my weakened state, the door felt heavier than I could even attempt with a slow push. Slamming forward, I shoved it open roughly, before a wall of dust exploded in my face out of the undisturbed space.  It went in my mouth, in my eyes, and shocked me to yelp and fall back.

    My throat began to tingle.

    The tickling rose, a painful building of pressure as I fought to keep the cough in.  Unfortunately, the dust had done its damage. My throat was like sandpaper. I felt both lungs searing with the effort to breathe and making spasms as I tried to just inhale normally.  I couldn't hold it in. Even with my hooves covering my mouth, the coughing went on for too long. I fell, crying out between them as I felt my entire mid-torso light up with the pain I'd began to forget from my illness.  It wouldn't stop. Hacking and spluttering, I cried on the cold, dusty concrete floor as it felt like my lungs were about to erupt from my mouth.

    It took a good ten seconds to die down, leaving me lying frail and weakened on the floor, scarcely able to breathe.

    Whatever it was.  It heard me.

    A sickly howl of hunger and rage echoed through the basement as I heard rapidly moving hooves galloping.  Brimstone leapt between me and the rough direction, a metal shard in his mouth ready. A ferocious crash boomed through the area as I saw the far oaken door shudder from a colossal impact.  Even Brimstone seemed to be taken aback by whatever force was slamming on the door.

    I got to my hooves, leaning my hoof on a pipe, wincing in pain as my shoulder reminded me why I shouldn't put weight on it.

    The door was holding, but I could feel the impacts through it.  It made a high-pitched shriek, and I saw a glowing haze emerge and fade from below the doorway.

    “For the glorious love of great fuck, will you shut the hell up in there and stop that endless fucking bullshittery!?”

    The sounds ceased.  Everything became deathly quiet as Brimstone and myself stared sideways at the second pony who had approached us under the noise of the zombie ghoul pony...thing attacking the door.  My mouth dropped, and not just at the rather imaginative cursing.

    Another ghoul.  If I could have screamed, I would have.

    A unicorn stallion, dressed in a torn and faded doctor's outfit.  Underneath it was nothing but rot and sinew, with visibly moving muscles and surrounded by a sickening smell. From the looks of things, he was trying to keep his body covered by as much of his uniform as possible.  He glanced to the door and slammed a hoof against it. A face bearing the straggled remnants of what could have once been an impressive beard scowled with enough disgruntled fury to make me wince.

    “It's just me, you old cranky bastard!  Now calm the fuck down and let me get back to sleep!”

    His voice put even my sickened one to shame in terms of roughness and rasping quality, but it held authority and poise beyond any I had met, even Protégé.  As soon as he had heard the monster back off, he turned to us, looking furious.

    “Follow me!  If you want to live more than one more fuckin' day, you'll come right the fuck in here this fucking minute!  Fuck sake!”

    I had expected some squalor filled with radiation enough to outright kill me.  I had expected darkness, damp mould, and rotten smells.

    I had not expected to find a surprisingly well-functioning medical laboratory.

    Shelves of old liquids and materials lined the walls around workbenches, chemistry sets, and sinks.  I saw a small flame lit beneath a beaker that was bubbling a nasty purple substance. Curtains at the back concealed patient areas that between the gaps looked long unused.  In one corner, I could see a few blankets to make a rough sleeping area. The entire place was filled to the brim with chems, medical potions, and anti-radiation kits.

    “Now, would either of you two moronic dipshits care to tell me why you came down here into an irradiated basement when neither have you have taken any Rad-X, neither of you have any RadAway on you, and the pegasus there has a severe infection susceptible to balefire corruption?”

    I had been about to compare the volume of his swearing to the amount of chems in the lab, (I now knew where my share of swearing talent had gone) but it only took me a few seconds to register what had been said immediately.  I stumbled into the lab, almost falling against a bed before holding myself up on it. Brimstone marched in impassively without a word as he looked around. I imagined he didn't care for the ghoul, only caring for the RadPurge.

    But I had much bigger problems.

    “P-Pegasus?  I'm not a pegasus.”

    “You fuckin' are, little one,” he responded sharply, before sweeping the blanket from the bed and tapping it with a hoof, “I don't need to see your wings to know.  Get on this, right away!”

    His voice held an authority to it. Without really knowing what I was doing, I climbed up as the ghoul magically threw a couple of RadAways to Brimstone.

    “Knock yourself out looking for what you need while I tend to the stupid bugger here who didn't stay away from areas that'll fuckin' kill him!  There's no rads in here, but Luna fucking damn it, you two. Just don't take anything without asking first.”

    “Fine.”

    Clearly, Brimstone was content just to search and let me deal with this strange undead stallion.

    “Get that fleece off! Come on, I'm not going to laugh, not often I get to actually work my expertise on pegasi here, so hurry it up!”

    It was like he was late for an appointment.  What was going on? Who was this ghoul? Why was he being as fast and to the point?  How did he know I was a pegasus? Why was he helping without even hearing a word from us about what we wanted?

    “Wait a minute!  I...I don't understand, who are you?  What are you do— YARGH!”

    I felt myself lifted off the bed entirely as the ghoul doctor muttered a colourful term (What was a 'douchenozzle' anyway?) to himself and just used his magic to systematically draw my goggles, fleece, and PipBuck off me.

    “Always with the fucking questions. Fine, listen while I work.”

    He moved forward, dumping me back on the bed before walking around me with his horn angled toward me.  I felt exposed, not for any sense of being embarrassed, but simply for my wings being on show.

    “I’m Doctor Weathervane, trauma surgeon from Canterlot Royal University, and don't you fucking smirk because I am no hoity toity prick like some others I could mention.  Pegasi specialist, lead surgeon general to the Shadowbolts under Ministry Mare Rainbow Dash, and previously the personal physician to the Wonderbolts.  That's why I recognised you the moment you walked in. I don't need to see wings to see a pegasus. The way you trot. The way your head bobs. Fuck, even the average size of your hooves for your...scale.”

    Alright, enough with the shortness already!  But immediately, I remembered Brimstone's words about wings not being the only thing that made you a pegasus.  I quickly had a sense of just how right he had been. I had been born to be what I was and I shouldn't be trying to change that.

    “Could say I'm one of the most experienced surgeons in Equestria more than likely, if I do say so myself. And I do. I certainly haven't met any others with two hundred and seventy shit-filled years of experience.  So consider yourself lucky you found me. Stupid bastard, wandering into an irradiated area with...hmm. So that's what it is. Interesting.”

    I didn't even know where to start.  Every ounce of social capability I had was simply being run over by this ghoul surgeon.  Best to start basic, on the present.

    “W-what was that thing outside?”

    “Oh?  Flowerpot?  Don't mind that cantankerous old ass.  Used to be one of my colleagues until the balefire gave us both a suntan till the end of fucking time.  I locked him in that quarantine cupboard. Don't worry, that door's reinforced metal behind the oak finish.  He can't get out. Good thing too. Big radiation leak in there, he's probably strong enough to knock your head clean off by now.  Now hold still and raise your wing.”

    Oh, here we go.

    “I...I can't...sorry.”

    I buried my face in my hooves, blushing red.  This unicorn had seen pegasi in their glory days.  How pathetic would I be in res-

    My right wing screamed in pain as it was magically pulled out.  I screamed in a more literal sense.

    “Oh, stop whining.  I tell ya, back during my time with the Wonderbolts?  Mare called Spitfire had her wing snapped in three places from a crash landing.  I reset all of them in the dressing room and did she give so much as a squeak? Hell no, she didn't.  Not like Soarin'. Always whined on his check-ups that big foal did. Now come on, worst part is over. Hold still and it won't hurt a bit.”

    “Why are you doing this?” My voice was gasping under the rough treatment, coughing every time I took a breath too quickly.

    “Are you a bloody simpleton?  I'm a fucking doctor! What do you think I'm meant to do when I see a pony dying and injured in front of me?”

    Silence reigned for just a second.  Hesitantly, I cast a glance up to see for once he had stopped moving to match me.  Only then did I finally catch the look in his eyes as I shifted uncomfortably. That look of pain, because he was seeing another pony genuinely suffering before him.  How many times had he seen that same look over the long years in the wasteland? Those centuries of dedication to a craft did not allow him to ignore me. I quickly began to gain a respect, even through the rudeness.  He had taken the wasteland's horrors for longer than...well, possibly any pony ever. Yet he still helped.

    Pain scared me, but for once, I nodded.  Even if he didn't truly show it, he was a true doctor.

    I finally saw exactly what the DJ had meant.  Ghouls truly were ponies too. In many ways, they were better than any of us, for they knew where this world had come from and what values had to be held on to.

    “Now hold still while I get the other wing.  Celestia's fantastic arse, kid, how long has it been since you got these checked?”

    After much wailing and cursed comments of how much of a foal I was, I eventually learned more as he went about his business.  Weathervane, despite his somewhat abrasive manner, had taken to clinging on to his principles to help him stay sane across the centuries.  The result seemed to be somepony who was more determined to heal others than was generally socially accepted. An odd combination, to say the least.

    It was also why he had started working for Red Eye.  Weathervane had lived in Fillydelphia, or at least had originated here, before the war.  This basement was his personal research and chem lab for the hospital he had actually founded and run above.  Very quickly, the haphazard artistic design made sense as I learned more about Weathervane's insistence of efficient quality over aesthetic requirement.  Even now, two hundred years after the apocalypse, he had remained at his post. No matter who now ran the city, he still ran the hospital he had built, teaching new generations to staff it himself.

    I simply could not put properly in words how in awe I was of that sort of determination.

Part of me was tempted to ask him about before, but I sensed it might be a sore spot and I knew how badly I reacted to stories of the past anyway.  Perhaps it would be best just to stay quiet on this one and treat him as an individual of the present rather than a relic of the past.

    While checking me over, his horn had flared as he spoke.  My shoulder's pain had numbed and eventually faded before he strapped a tight wrap around it.  Bruises and cuts I didn't even know I had disappeared as I was fed a stale-tasting healing potion.  He seemed greatly interested in my wings, however, tutting and shaking his head.

    “Somepony really did a bloody number on you, kid.  Would I be right in guessing blunt trauma?”

    I think I must have twitched as the unpleasant memory of being dragged into an old barn by fellow slaves resurfaced.  Eyes clenched closed and fighting not to have a minor breakdown, I nodded. Doctor Weathervane's tone had softened after his scathing anger.  Indeed, he only frequently cursed now.  For him, that was a step down.

    “Old injury too, but that will have to wait.  I'll perhaps be able to give you some more information or treatment or some shit to get rid of the pain at least later on, need to dig out my old books.  But for now, we have something a bit more important to discuss.”

    Setting some RadAway beside me, he motioned to drink up whilst he moved backward and settled against the counter.  I could hear Brimstone still stomping around, becoming aggravated as he hunted for RadPurge in the back of the room.

    “Well, Murky Number Seven...”

    Weathervane's voice rasped and echoed from the walls to give it a somewhat fading slimy quality.  He brought a pair of reading glasses to his face as he gave me the look that told me I should be sitting down.

    “...I'm afraid I do not have very good news for you.”

    I'd known I was screwed long ago.  But something about hearing it from a qualified medical professional really rammed it home.

    “What you have isn't a simple infected lung that got a little radded up.  What you have is something we call a pulmonary embolism. A clinically severe affliction that provides the symptoms you have demonstrated.  Basically, the arteries...you know what they are?”

    I shook my head.  To tell the truth, he had lost me at 'pulmonary.' Weathervane shook his head, tapping it and cursing lowly before continuing.

    “This isn't technically right, but something in your lungs is clogged up by an unspecified substance.  In this case, it's your birth defect. Your ears show signs of taint mutation. Were you ever exposed?”

    “My mother was exposed while still pregnant.”

    “Makes sense.  You were exposed to taint as a foetus and thus were born with minor abnormalities.  At first I thought it was the chemicals in the air that might have started it, but on closer magical observation, it seems your ears are not the extent of your tainted afflictions from the womb.  Your lungs have mostly harmless but noticeable warped sections. Now this was never enough to really cause you trouble, until you came to Fillydelphia. The ambient radiation probably aggravated it, causing the tainted inner flesh to react, inflame, and begin to cause much more problems around your respiratory system.  The more radiation you took in, the worse it got. Right now, it's just a big angry fucking blob of irradiated flesh mutated out of your primary lung systems. Symptoms are just as you say you experienced. Shortness of breath, burning lungs, nausea, retching up blood, and immobilising periods of coughing. Untreated, this will likely kill you within days.  You already know that RadAway can stall or slow the process, but...”

    Even Brimstone had stopped to stand, almost respectfully nearby.  He looked at me with impassive eyes as I lay on my front on the bed, slowly sniffing.  I couldn't even work up the energy to properly cry as I heard it all laid out bare.

    Then he dropped the bombshell.

    “I'm sorry, Murk.  The taint is not curable.”

    That did it. I felt my breathing heighten as my chest rapidly moved from hyperventilation, before I finally felt my tear ducts let it all out.  Curled up on the bed, holding my head in my hooves, I just shook and cried...and cried...

    This disease, it wasn't curable at all.  Artery had lied or had never really known.  I heard Weathervane explaining it all, how taint that had been with me for so long could not be purged.  About how even Tenpony Tower's prodigious medical facilities would not be enough now. Taint just wasn’t something the wasteland was equipped to cure. If the taint were gone, he could have operated and fixed it, but with it?

    “The most I can offer you is that regular use of RadAway will keep it benign.  However, I know how hard this might be in Fillydelphia. I can give you a good amount to get you started but I must consider my long term patients.  Murk, I must stress this. You have to avoid radiation as best you can from now on.  Even with RadAway, an intense burst like the one you mentioned from the phoenix could, and probably will, kill you without immediate action and lots of anti-radiation medication. Its this city. If you weren’t here, you’d likely be able to live normally with a little care, but in this damned place...”

    I didn't reply. I couldn't.  My forelegs were soaking damp with the overflow from my eyes as I just buried my face into them, wishing it would all just stop.  But he continued, to get it all over and said rather than leave more harsh words for later.

    Weathervane explained what to watch out for. I would become dizzy, tired, and very short of breath like I had while around Sooty if it was reaching critical stages.  Further than that I would go into convulsions, bring up blood, and likely fall unconscious within the hour. I'd need somepony else to save me if that happened.

    If not I'd...

    ...if nopony did, I would quite literally choke to death on my own blood.

    The limit for ambient radiation was a few days.  To avoid serious symptoms, I would have to ingest at least one RadAway every day or so to keep it at bay.  He had given me five in the bag. In combination with Protégé's gift, I had eight.

    Eight days.  Perhaps a couple at most if I rationed.  Less than two weeks, but I needed to survive two years if I couldn’t get out!

    It all felt so impossible. So unfairly stacked against me.

    Why me?

    Why always me?

    I ignored Brimstone and Weathervane as they talked.  Instead, I simply lay down quietly and found myself staring blankly at the wall in Weathervane's lab.  In a fit of need, I had switched on my PipBuck's radio to listen to. I needed something, anything, to help give me hope now.

    “Now I've been getting an interesting little question lately, or at least I've heard it's been asked in all those little towns around the big ol' Equestria wasteland these days.  DJ, they ask! At what point have we won the good fight you always want us to follow?

    Well, children.  That is a very good one.  You know that I am known for the truth, fellow ponies, so I will not lie.  I really had to think on this one! At least, all the thinking I could manage while I could find silence, what with my number one assistant and her new found friend both together in the area.  Now I'm sure they were just moving some furniture around and were agreeing a lot over where it had gone, but what a—

    Oh, sorry, off topic.  Ol'DJ here just doesn't know when to shut his mouth these days, does he?  Now allow me to answer you all. The good fight never ends. Even all those years ago when ponies lived in peace they were fighting it!  By making cakes for a picnic to share with friends, they were fighting! By helping a friend finish their preparations for a relative visiting, they were winning the war!  You see, my little ponies out there, there is no end because it's something to strive for. To be better. The obstacles in our path can be overcome if we just work together.  So don't abandon those you care about, y'hear? These days that which we fight against are bigger, more obvious, and deadlier than any ponies in the past ever had to deal with.  Only by sticking together can we truly save lives and make ourselves better, no matter what horrors we all must share along the way.”

    I imagined the DJ out there in the wasteland some place.  What had he been through to know it with such conviction? What had other ponies had to withstand?  How many of them had been killed outright by taint or horribly mutated beyond life? At least I was still me.

    It was a small comfort to be reminded that we were all in this together, no matter how far we were separated.  Not much, perhaps, but enough to allow me to clutch the PipBuck close, close my eyes, and try to pretend that someday I'd be able to thank him for all the help. Weathervane had said it could be managed if I wasn’t in Fillydelphia. It was...it was something. A little hope to cling to.

    “Now for all you newbies to my broadcast over in Filly, I figured I'd bring you up to speed on what that little mare you all saw has been doing these past few weeks over my broadcasts for the next few days.  For example, did you know the Stable Dweller severely messed up Red Eye's operation coming out of Old Appleloosa a while ago? Dropped a boxcar on an alicorn too. So if you had family out that way, you can rest a bit easier knowing that there's a chance they might not be headed for the hell you're in.  Take heart in that mare, slaves. She'll save you all somehow.”

    I tried to smile, closing my eyes as I imagined seeing the Wall falling.  Of seeing Littlepip charging over with the ponies that supported her racing into the city and taking out the slavers, griffons, and those monstrous abominations of the Goddesses' image, the alicorns.  They were the elite beasts under Red Eye's control, so far as I knew. Mute and lethal, their magic was feared by the few slaves that had ever had to directly encounter one. Usually, they were seen in the crater basking in radiation or accompanying Red Eye.  But for Littlepip to kill one?

    Well, it helped bring a smile to my face as I fantasised that she might one day save me and all the others.  What would I say to her? Would I introduce her to the others?

    “Now until the next time of news for you all.  Keep smiling, ponies, and if you see that little mare in the Stable suit holding a scoped revolver?  Give her a little hug for me.”

    Oh I would.

    “Till then, here's Pinkie Pie with, You Gotta Share, You Gotta Care!”

    My eyes jolted open. No!  Oh Goddeses, no! Even DJ-Pon-Three had fallen to her—

    “Haha!  Gotcha all!  Ah, I'm just kidding folks, here's Velvet Remedy!”

    Through all the pain, the horrible news confirming that my life hung by a thread and the ongoing torment of being isolated from the life I desired outside of Fillydelphia while the world kept turning without me, he had actually managed to make me smile.

    I held the PipBuck closer, almost nuzzling it with my tears still dripping from my eyes.  I needed to hold on to these feelings. Without them, I knew where my mind went. The control tower was too vivid in my mind.  Too easy a route to avoid a life of pain the disease would leave me with. The Stable Dweller, Littlepip. She was the main source of my hope and inspiration to continue.

    “Thank you.”

    Brimstone's deep voice cut the moment harshly and made me wince as his tone rose to fury.

    “You want me to go where?”

    I had missed the majority of Brim's debate over the RadPurge.  Waking from my depressive daydreams, I found Brimstone Blitz and Doctor Weathervane engaged in an argument over 'payback' for him whipping up a new batch of RadPurge.  Apparently, he was actually the inventor of the brand that had never really made it in the market the same way RadAway had.  As such, he was now the only source of the medication.

    “There are over thirty fucking slaves in this city that have this particular allergy, raider!  You bring her to me, I'll heal her. But I do not give away my grade-A medication on a whim to somepony without any pissing proof! I know your name and reputation, 'Great Warlord'.  I know what you did to Ponyville. Those defenceless ponies were only trying to repair a broken town. If you want it, you've got to bring me what I need or bring her here!”
   
    “She can't move!  Don't you think I would have?  Now make that RadPurge! You know who I am, you know what I will do to get what I want!”

    “And what?  Harm me? Ha!  Do that and you'll never get any and your friend will die anyway!  I'm offering you a chance here, get me the materials and I'll make some up while you're away!  You won't be losing time!”

    Brimstone looked about ready to crush Weathervane's head completely.  I could see the same look on his face he had worn against the raiders.  His front hooves were scratching at the ground, itching to strike something.  I heard the light snort and growl before a hoof raised and slammed down on the workbench beside him.  The thick wood actually cracked.

    “Fine!” He scowled, matching Weathervane's glare.  “I'll go. But if you don't have the RadPurge by the time I get back...”

    “I will.  Just remember, as much anti-radiant fluid as you can find, as well as the silver sphere—”

    “I know!  I'll get them.”

    This could go badly. Almost suicidally, I decided to try and intervene, shuffling across.

    “Um, excuse me...”

    “All of it!  I won't be adding the final ingredient until you're back!”

    “...if I could just...”

    “If you double cross me ghoul, you will not survive this.”

    “...could we please be calm a second...”

    “Yeah, yeah. They told me the balefire would kill me too.  Fat fucking lot that did.”

    Brimstone growled, baring his teeth as he pulled himself to his full height.  I could see the anger in his eyes as he began to raise a hoof to lash out with it.

    “WAAAAAAAIT!”

    I screamed at the top of my voice as I hurled myself between the hostile pair.  Throwing a hoof up and waving it to get their attention, I succeeded in stumbling around just enough to fall between them.  Looking back up (or further up, in Brim's case), I sighed and tried to divert their attention from killing one another.

    “I'm lost here. What are we doing?”

    Brimstone was the first to snort and cast a glance back at the ghoul.

    “Fleshy here wants me to go into the crater and retrieve some of his old stuff from a pre-war research facility.  Ingredients for more RadPurge to replace what I'm taking. That and some ridiculous old project.”

    “Not ridiculous. Typical raider! It's a stored spell that is just short of a megaspell in potency.”

    Okay, things were getting beyond my understanding. A megaspell?

    “You mean, like, a bomb?”

    “No, a megaspell.  The balefire brand were the destroyers, this one is a healer.  Basically, a megaspell is just a normal spell with a turbocharger shoved up its arse.  In this case, it heals. There was a pretty tragic incident when a healing megaspell brought a zebra army back to life on its first deployment, so we were tasked with making ones that could focus on one pony at a time instead and use less energy.  Not so easy, getting a megaspell to reign in its power like that. We never quite finished it, but I am sure the prototype still works.”

    “I didn't know you could store spells like that.”

    “Normally, no.  However, the Ministry of Arcane Science in Fillydelphia were involved in an interesting project to use the same spell that created memory orbs to 'store' pre-cast spells that anypony could use, as the energy required was all bundled up. It never properly worked enough to distribute. You still needed a unicorn to direct it after using one, and they had a nasty habit of dissolving after their first use, so it was never practical. But at least it allowed some unicorns to utilise spells they didn't normally know, if only temporarily.  We used orbs to store the megaspell prototypes, cos’ no unicorn alone would master a spell this potent; and it helped direct it where we wanted if you had a team of unicorns, unlike a full-blown megaspell that would spread it all around. Rainbow Dash was still bitching the entire time I was fixing her wing about that 'double battle' incident. Rightly so, I may add.”

    My head hurt.  All this magical sciencey stuff was way beyond me.  I was no smart-headed unicorn or technologically gifted earth pony (or a proper pegasus either for that matter...). I knew roughly about memory orbs and how they allowed a unicorn to see into the past like a visual diary or something.  But I didn't even know what they looked like, never mind any details.

    “Well, okay, it's important. A little silver ball you said?  Like a bouncy ball?”

    “Urgh, fucking wasteland pony similies. Yes, it's a little silver, glowing ball.  I had to leave it all behind when Red Eye took over. I'm not permitted near the crater.  Too much risk of a ghoul becoming a bit too powerful for his tastes in there, y'see. But I can't risk Red Eye's crater teams stumbling across the technology anymore. I heal for him, but Celestia fucking damn me if I ever let him have that power.  That's why I want Brimstone to get it. Not you Murk, the radiation is too high in that place.”

    I wasn't sure what to feel.  Part of me was relieved. The crater was legendary amongst slaves for killing you in mere months from exposure while working.  What it might do to me with my inherent weakness to radiation.

    On the other hoof, I was disappointed.  I had come all this way to seek a reason and purpose in my life.  To be doing something to prove I could still face my fears and break my mental chains of servitude.  To save a life. I found myself wanting to go.

    That thought terrified me.  But I couldn't ignore it.

    “No...no.  I can help.”

    For once, the two of them seemed to agree on something.  My idiocy.

    “Look!  I'm small and can sneak around; you've seen how it's handy, Brimstone!  I...I need to do this! Above in the hospital, I almost took medicine from somepony who needed it.”

    I left the fact that it had been RadPurge well away from Brimstone's ears.

    “I feel guilty for that. I want to do this to help somepony. Make up for that. Doctor you understand that sort of feeling, right? And Brimstone, even in those few moments, Glimmerlight was nice to me, I don’t want to see somepony who did that go away before I can meet them. I...I don’t have a lot in this city, and I just...”

    Oh, come on, why could I feel tears again? Why couldn't I ever just be brave?  My head fell away from their witheringly strong eyes. Caught out, not knowing how to express my need to scratch and claw for any way forward I could, I fell quiet, before finally muttering the only thing that came to my mind.

    “The DJ on the radio said we all need to stick together.”

    There was a long pause.  Eventually, Brimstone sighed, shook his mane, and rolled his eyes.

    “If you want to come, you can.  Just know that you will not be my priority if I have to choose between you and Glimmer.  If you get sick, you can crawl.”

    Weathervane matched the rolling of the eyes as he turned away to his instruments and began setting up beakers and small flame burners.

    “The times when I could hold a patient back are long gone now.  If you do go, I imagine I'll be seeing you very soon. Either in intensive care or an autopsy.  But...”

    He sighed and magically grabbed two bottles of pills to toss to us.

    “If you are going, take this.  It's Rad-X, it'll help your immunity levels a little.  You take it too, raider. Grab that healing potion from the far desk too, chances are you'll need one.  Fucking hell, what is it with wasteland ponies being so bloody stupid these days? The rads in there are liable to kill you in less than an hour in your condition, Murk.  Just move as fast as you can or something...still a fucking stupid move.”

    I thanked him. Even if Weathervane didn't show it, I could see he was saddened by my choice to put myself in danger.  I didn't dare ask him about it, or I was afraid that I'd be swayed to stay out of fear by any logic or frank common sense he might use to convince me.  The Master had nearly broken my confidence to rebel, but the urge to save a life, to gain an ally, was all I had left to prove he hadn't completely shattered my freedom yet. If I could help in any way to improve her odds of survival, even if I had to put myself into the very environment I'd just been told was the most dangerous thing I could ever do, I had to do it.

    The healing potion went into my saddlebag along with the RadAway. I'd have to leave most of it at the Mall to not risk carrying every piece of my required medicine with me.  As Brimstone left, I turned back, there were a couple things I wanted to ask.

    “This megaspell, it wouldn't cure taint, would it?”

    Weathervane just shook his head without even looking at me.  His entire body seemed to slump a little. I hadn't held much hope for it doing that, but even so, I felt a painful pang of inevitability setting in again.  Okay, one more question, then I had to get going. Just for my curiosity.

    “Doctor, why do you swear so much?”

    Weathervane turned back to me, raising an eyebrow.

    “Son, I grew up in a world of peaceful glory and happy memories.  I remember leaving my door unlocked during the day because I knew it was safe.  I remember the days when you could trust anypony's word. When I could smile as I woke up next to my beautiful wife because I knew that it would be a good day.  It always was. Then the war happened, and all that changed. Everything Equestria stood for was torn apart by senseless fighting and death. I witnessed what we once had corrupted by those who sought to save it.  You don't know what it was like, son. I saw the perfect world burned asunder by the flames. I awoke in a land I no longer recognised. Those first few years were a living hell. There were no settlements like now.  No factions or groups. No trade. It was everypony for themselves in the most brutal chapter of our entire history amidst the balefire, still warping and burning what was left into devastation. Ponies gutted one another for anything.  Violence was the only answer. Even after seeing our world scorched, we still fought. Things mellowed, but the more I see of this 'future', the more I'm convinced it's all just an ever-lessening shadow of what we once had. Like a dream that fades the longer the day goes on.  You think we could ever go back to the way we were before? And here I am, cursed to witness it all through the years...such long years.”

    My imagination was overflowing. I fought to not cry again as I watched his eyes glance listlessly to the side at a photo frame I couldn’t see, before he laughed without any true mirth.  A horrible sound from a ghoul.

    “And you ask why I swear a lot?  You could say, I've learned to just not give a fuck.”

    I had thought Brimstone intended to go to the crater, but to my surprise, he led me back to the Mall.  Apparently, roll call was kept to ensure slave attendance over time and that none had escaped. As such, a pit stop was required to ensure search teams didn't go looking for us.

    Brimstone had returned to Glimmerlight to watch over her.  Since returning and pulling the door shut again, he hadn't left her side.  He didn't even do anything other than just sit and silently stand vigil over the sickened mare in the amber light of their old gem lantern.

    I, meanwhile, had returned to my journal.  Getting back to it had given my pained heart a little spike of joy (I even hugged it!) as I immediately fell into its comforting unreality to keep my mind from settling on the medical condition being diagnosed.  Maybe if I could just forget about it enough, forget that I was going into a place that would probably destroy my immediate health.

    Nosing open the pages, I took up my charcoal and began to sketch.  As much as I considered Littlepip's intervention my moment of awakening, truly the first indication of it had been when I drew for myself.  That had opened my mind to possibilities beyond what I was told. I had once drawn what my subconscious told me to. The walls had been closing in all my life steadily.  The good little slave who simply did what he was told. Now I drew for myself. By drawing, I forced back the walls that threatened to overwhelm my sense and beat me back into line.  It was my way of staying free, to sketch the things I wanted and take comfort in the freedom of expression, probably the only true freedom I had.

    Imagination flowed through my mouth holding the black writing tool and onto the yellowed parchment as flowing lines began to piece together the shape I knew they would.  I wouldn't enjoy the result, but I needed to remind myself of this forever.

    A pony's head. Yes, but all mostly covered by a blanket...loose hair from braids and a ponytail.

    I sat back, thinking and looking over at Glimmer, shivering from her illness. She clearly wasn't going to last much longer.  A pang of sadness flew around my mind at imagining her dying after having gone to these lengths.

    Immediately afterwards, I looked back at the drawing and saw the mare from the hospital.  I had drawn her curled up, eyes clenched in pain as her own sickness reached the same point.  It hurt to look at, to know it was immortalised in print. But I needed it. I needed that reminder to keep myself in line when I got too desperate.  What if she had somepony she cared about out there trying to help her as much as I was trying to help Glimmerlight? How would I have felt if somepony had taken Glimmer's last hope?

    I had become a thief to help myself survive as a slave.  I had stolen from ponies who I felt deserved it.

    This time, I'd come dangerously close to falling to the other side.

    “I'm-I'm sorry...”

    My hoof patted the paper lightly and finally added in the caring nurse bringing the RadPurge.  No, I drew the line at harming others to get what I wanted. If that was ever the price to get out of Fillydelphia, then it was much too high a cost.

    My lungs ached and convulsed.  Only barely in time, I got my mouth away from the drawing before coughing all over the floor.  Despite it all, Weathervane's healing had helped for now. The cough was harsh but held none of the burning that signified true danger.  Combined with his Rad-X, perhaps I stood a chance after all. Getting to my hooves, I slid the journal into my saddlebag and turned to Brim.

    “How long till roll call?”

    “Fifteen minutes.  If you aren't back in time, I go alone.”

    So much for saying I was about to go out for a bit. Clearly Brimstone guessed ahead when he could, but then that was probably pretty important in order to be a raider warlord.

    I trotted out into the Mall, finding most of the raiders were asleep or off on work detail.  Glancing upward at the balcony overlooking the shop area that acted as our pen, I wondered just how to justify to Protégé that I'd figured out about the illness.

    The entire area was pretty dark, so much so I wondered if it was night time. In Fillydelphia it was easy to not quite notice sometimes, the difference between heavy smog cover or a true night.  Heavy shadows drew odd lines across the Mall from the skylight above, while slave pens were voids of black mystery to my eyes. Did they contain raiders? Normal ponies?

    “Hehehe. So much for the little sneaky pony.”

    I froze.  I knew that voice. Where had I heard it before?  Carefully, I looked around. The only ponies in sight were sleeping or wandering at the far end of the hall near to one of the 'secondary' lines of shops that went away to either side of the main area.  But they were almost seventy metres away in the giant space. Too far for that sound.

    “What's the matter?  Can't see me? I'm most disappointed.  How about this?”

    I felt the touch of cold steel around my neck.  I was shaking again. Why did I always shake?  Why couldn't I just be brave like Littlepip and do something?

    “W-what do you want?”

    “You to not scream like the little filly you are. Like before when my boys had your wing.  Now turn around, I want to speak properly.”

    A raider, but this one sounded, well, not well-spoken, but clearly more intellectually capable.  The only reassurance I had was he wasn't killing me immediately.

    I turned.  He was standing right behind me! Where had he come from?  In the last couple of days I'd begun to feel a little happier about my ability to sneak around, but this was something far beyond me.  He was a unicorn, clad in shredded, black leather with a dark blue coat so close to black it almost matched his clothing. His long mane was a dark grey, almost black itself.  No wonder he'd blended in so well, he was just off-black enough that you might pass your eyes right over him. What shocked me though was his magic. The glow around the small scrap craft knife was black and almost entirely invisible.

    “There we go, little filly. Heh, think I'll call you that.  Seems to suit, you ain't strong enough to be a buck. I mean look at me, I get by through being a sneakier bastard than anypony and even I look like the ol' Warlord compared to you.  Now I'm not gonna talk long, so you best listen. As I hear, you can do that well.”

    I gulped and nodded. Internally, I was praying for Brimstone or Protégé to appear.  This stallion was terrifying me. What was that on his cutie mark? A loop of razor wire?

    “My name's Barb, filly.  Used to be one of the Warlord's 'Big Four' until he went funny on us.  Yeah, it's Barb, cos I'm sharp as a razor and I don't need something big to sever your life quietly when you least expect it.  Now listen closely. I know you got out. Simple, really. You went out an air vent and came in again through that shop. I was watching. I'm more patient than that old bastard ever was so don't try and claim otherwise.  But it's nice to see somepony like you trying to walk the path I did, stealing and sneaking to get by.”

    I highly disagreed about the path, but for preservation of my throat, I nodded.

    “So let me cut you a deal.  I'm gonna admit to you something here. Shackles thinks I'm an informant for him so I'm in a good position in this here place.  I feed him what he wants to hear about us raiders, but he doesn't realise we aren't just mindless idiots. Some of us, but not me.”

    The informant!  I knew I'd recognised that voice in the vent.

    “That's all you get about my long term goals for now, filly.  But let’s talk about my deal. You want to be sneaky, I'll teach you how.  You get me supplies to make explosives from out there back in and I'll reward you with survival skills. Leave anything in that vent you got out by.  I'll check it by the hour. Now go about your business and don't say a word to the Warlord of me or I'll shiv you in your sleep. You don't want to cross me, but Barb's Bloodletters could be a very valuable ally in helping you get out. You’ll benefit, Shackles may be your true Master, but I'm the master of the shadows, and I am the most absolute peer you will ever need to know in our field of talent. And let's keep it secret between us two, hm?”

    I shook as I tried to process all this.  So many ponies wanted some things in Fillydelphia. Why did they keep demanding it of me?  Why did I have to be the weak one they all saw as easy prey to bully into doing things?

    “I...I’d rather just not get involved…no, no thanks...” I stammered, gulping.

    His eyes narrowed, as he leaned closer. His voice took on a darker, more aggressive tone.

    “I wasn’t asking.”

    Barb seemed to melt back into the shadows as he grinned at me, his oddly white teeth being the last thing to disappear as he once again became one with the darkness.

    “I'm afraid this isn't the best time, Murk,”

    Protégé was speaking quickly as he cantered back and forth in his office with urgency.  I sat on the floor amidst his activity, watching somewhat amazed at how coordinated his telekinetic abilities were at knowing exactly where everything was in this mess of an office.  I hadn't wasted time coming here. Barb had lit a new fire of terror in me. What was I supposed to think about a pony who even I couldn't hear coming and who was forcing me to steal for him, in return for tuition at theft and creeping around in return?  The skills could come in handy for escaping, of course. He wanted to wreck Red Eye's operations? Well, that was fine by me. If I learned how to sneak by the Wall in return, that was fine too.  

But, he was one of Brimstone's old raiders. I hadn’t trusted him at all, and so I had galloped toward Protégé's office as fast as I could, sticking to well-lit areas.

    It hadn't been hard to get to him. The guards had standing orders to allow me through and escort me to his office any time I wished.  But after knocking and entering, I had found the curious slave master in the middle of packing materials and loading ammunition into his revolver even while he skimmed a book with his eyes in front of his face.  Looking around, I could swear that even in the hours since I'd been here every single book had changed places.

    “I'm...I'm sorry, master, I'll be going then,” I stammered.  Disappointment struck me as I turned to exit. Perhaps I'd try back later on—

    “I said it isn't the best time,” he continued, “not that you had to leave.  However, I will be going in a few minutes. I've received an urgent message from Master Red Eye requiring my immediate attention.”

    I looked at the revolver as the scope cover slotted into place and it floated to his foreleg holster.  He was wearing the battle barding that had once sat on the hook, and loading two saddlebags full of RadAway, medical potions, ammo and of course, a book.

    “Why?  What's going on?”

    Protégé stopped for a few seconds to look at me with a hard glance.  Despite his politeness, there was an edge to him. I was seeing a hardline mentality setting in as he prepared for...something.  It looked like he was deciding whether or not I should know, before finally resuming his packing.

    “I told you of Master Red Eye's children, the foals he cares for in their hundreds within Fillydelphia and abroad?  One of them has went missing, a small filly by the name of Starshine Melody. A lovely little foal, really, very curious.  Possibly too curious. She ran off to ‘see the sights’ as her roommates said. She was last seen around the edge of the crater so as you can imagine, Master Red Eye is greatly concerned for her safety.  He's called in everypony he can trust with kids to hunt for her.”

    For all my hatred of Red Eye, that was something I could agree with.  In the past, foals had often been the only ones to not look upon me and my wings harshly.  They were innocent of the prejudice they would later gain. As a result, I felt quite strongly about them being protected.

    “Here.”

    Seemingly without extra effort, a small piece of paper slipped from his armoured saddlebag and floated across before me.  It held a picture of a little light grey filly with a well-kept and groomed white mane. It seemed to have been cut from a larger image. I could see others around her like some sort of group photo.

    “Master Red Eye insisted we test the recovered photographic technology on the class, let them see where they came from in the future.  He claimed that having a sense of historic progression is essential to rebuilding our spirit as well as physical world. I had that section cut out to help track her down.”

    She looked impossibly innocent for a world such as this.  I began to see why Protégé had so much respect for this angle of Red Eye's.  They looked clean, well-fed, and intelligent as they all sat there smiling with childish joy. It could have been a pre-war photo.  Starshine Melody in particular had a big jolly and somewhat cheeky grin. I began to feel my own worries for her safety tug at my heart.

    “I hope she is alright.  I...I'll keep an eye out for her.”

    Protégé stopped immediately, rounding on me.

    “I'm sorry, Murk?”

    What was he-

    Realisation shot through me like a rifle round. Panic surged within me, my stomach clenching tightly.

    “I mean!  Uh, as in, if I'm ever nearby to the area. Y'know?”

    I grinned as wide as I could, trying to shrug.

    “Like...with the slave work and, you know...stuff?”

    Protégé didn't look too convinced, but his haste to make tracks led him to apparently cast his doubts aside as trivial for now.  Trotting toward the door, he signalled me to follow as he closed it behind him.

    “My apologies if you could not broach your own topic of conversation, Murk.  I assure you, I shall try to find some time to talk to you. I am glad to see you're looking healthier than when I first met you.”

    If only he could have seen deeper. Yet all the same, the compliment was unexpected. Very few ponies said such things to me.

    He began to canter down the corridor.  Not knowing what else to really do, I followed him until my own corner back to the plaza.  In the darkened night, the shop cells were scarcely lit, only by an ambient red hue through the boarded up windows.  Protégé didn't even stop at the junction between the entrance and the shop area, kicking up centuries-old dust in his wake that continued to swirl in the airless corridor long after he was gone.

    “Um...good luck, master!”

    “Thank you, Murk.  Good day. Ragini?”

    He accelerated into a gallop as I saw his associate and bodyguard come bounding down another of the concrete hallways and join him.  Watching them go, I sighed and turned to head back to the cells.

    I should have known.

    Protégé was gone.

    Who else was going to take roll call?

    I had made it to the ground floor, heading for the cage door when I heard his heavy tread approaching.  Never mind 'hear', I felt him approaching.  Like my mane and back tingling with fear within mere proximity.

    No. No, I needed to get back to Brimstone, right now!

    I galloped, surprising the guards as they saw me suddenly accelerate and gun for the door back in.  He'd see me at roll call, but at least I'd not be alone with—

    “Close that gate!”

    It slammed in my face.  Slapping to the ground, I quickly threw myself at it, pounding at the cage bars, and trying to pull it open.  Oh Goddesses, please, I didn't want to turn around! I didn't want to acknowledge he existed! Just let the door open, please, please, pretty please...

    “Well, well, well. Looks like our little Number Seven decided to start being teacher's pet to the upstart.  Isn't that cute? Looking for an easy ride, eh? Pity we don't got long, but I want a little chat with you before we do roll call. C'mere!”

    I felt repulsed, screaming as I felt his hoof pass right around my body and yank me upward to be held against him.  Holding me forcefully close, he eventually ended up dumping me in the corner of the guard room outside the cage door.  My natural instincts were to find a small place. I retreated right into it and cowered. I hadn't looked at him yet, I didn't want to.

    I'd fallen right into what he'd known I would do.  With sadistic glee, he trotted forward, his huge bulk filling my peripheral vision as I was backed right into the corner.  He kept moving forward, far closer than I had any real pleasing of. Anypony outside would have barely seen me in the corner below him.

    “So you survived the raiders. Good, good.  I can see I'm going to have a little more time to properly...hmm...'break you in' shall we say, Number Seven.  You'll understand the chains that bind you soon enough all over again.”

    “Y-yes...”

    “Yes what?”

    His hoof slapped me around the face so hard my skull cracked off the wall.  I felt that tooth loosen again after Weathervane had just fixed it. He was my Master, that tooth was beginning to become my recurring reminder every time he struck me for being disobedient.  It made my eyes water, or was that with fear? I didn't know. I just curled away from him as best as I could, shrieking what he wanted to hear.

    “Yes, Master!”

    “You tried to escape me once. That won't happen again will it?”

    “No. No, Master!”

    At this point, in this situation, I couldn't say otherwise.  Try as I wanted, I couldn't beat the slave I was born to be from forcing itself to the fore and controlling me while he was around.

    “Good. No point in running away from those closest to you after all, is there?”

    He laughed sickly right into my ear.  I still hadn't looked directly at him.  I kept trying to picture my drawings...please, anything but that face so close again...

    “I suppose I mean a lot to you.  I should. We're closer than anypony else in this place.  Each of us born to be around one another. But more than that. I did a little checking on the records of your slave life that are still around.  Turns out I visited Shattered Hoof where you mother was a slave, oh...some months before you were born?”

    I hadn't forgotten his 'theory' before, but this brought new levels of chills to my heart.

    “But then I noticed something else.” His voice took a malicious tone all of a sudden. “Look at me, Number Seven. Look!  At! Me!”

    His hooves wrenched my head around as I felt spittle spray across my head. With a yelp, I opened my eyes out of fear alone as that sweaty, filthy, and disgusting face bearing a rotten grin bore down on me from mere inches away.  Between the wall and floor behind me, he was learning right over into my personal space once more. His oddly light green eyes wouldn't let up from staring at me, unblinking. I could see every detail this close. Every filthy strand of his mane, each rotten tooth, that odd scar I'd never noticed before that ran under his mane from his left ear to just above his eye.  One hoof pressed me right down into the corner, backing away all my space to less than about my own body's size.

    “Recognise anything?”

    I couldn't even shake my head.

    “How about now?”

    He held a mirror up with the other hoof.  I saw my own tear-filled eyes looking right back at me.  I didn't understand. That was me, what was...

    My eyes...

    ...light green.

    I didn't know if he was simply lying or not.  He could have been making everything up, for I had no way to tell.  But as he drew the mirror away and I saw the colour, shape..everything remain almost exactly the same, I couldn't help feel a sick sense of belief in what he said.

    Through that moment.  Through him laughing in my face and roughly hurling me back in the shop pen, I had to actively force myself to believe he was lying.
   
    I had to.  If I ever started believing that he was truly linked to me somehow, I'd never be able to escape his chains ever again.  But those eyes were imprinted on my memory. For the rest of my life, I knew that any time I ever looked in a mirror I would see him staring back at me.  Even if I somehow got away, left Fillydelphia, left Equestria, he would be with me every step of the way.

    The Master trotted in behind me.  A unicorn buck assistant, skinny and clearly a hooflicking type, levitated a clipboard nearby to The Master's face obediently.  Lying on the ground before him, I tried to crawl away into the crowds that were forming up for roll call. There were a lot of ponies in here, more than I'd thought.  The multiple dozen raiders were actually outnumbered by the slaves who merely kept their heads down, hoping for freedom at the end of two years.  In total, there might have been about a hundred and a bit slaves in here. That said, with my eyes to the floor, that was a best guess.

    “Right!  Every slave get down here to the ground floor!  Roll call!”

    Hooves clattered.  The Master hadn't threatened them.  He didn't need to.

    Shoved around by slaves seeking to not be the last there, I was knocked from side to side, trodden on, or simply bucked out of the way. These ponies didn't care about stamping all over a pegasus to get by. Moaning, I eventually settled against the fountain inside the crowd, taking relief in the cool stone against my now swollen cheek.

    “Settle down!  Now, we've expanded our numbers since yesterday, so we're gonna do this a little differently.”

    Holding my breath, I could only imagine this was something to do with me.

    “Earth ponies!  Get on the left hoof side there!  Get separated from the hornies!”

    A vast swathe of the ponies here, perhaps more than half of them, all began shuffling over to the far side away from Brimstone's area.  I saw the reluctant warlord stomp over himself, eyes never once leaving the entrance to where I knew Glimmerlight was no doubt still resting.  If any raider dared go within a few feet of it, I could only imagine the imminent violence. Indeed, I saw a few raiders bearing injuries snapping and snarling at him as they found themselves beside him.

    Unfortunately, I could see where The Master was going with this.

    “Unicorns!  Get on the right!  Come on, hurry your horned selves up!”

    A near stampede of the remaining ponies rushed to the right hoof side, and lined up like an opposing army to the earth ponies.  Those limping on injuries or rotten and wasted limbs staggered after them.

    I was alone next to the fountain, a million miles from any feeling of being hidden.  Crouching still, I hid next to the fountain wall from at least one side. I was clear enough, he couldn't want me to—

    “Pegasi!  Get yourselves into the centre!  Into the open area!”

    Despondently, I cast my eyes around, hoping against all hope that I'd see somepony else wander out to join me.  Somepony that would share the obvious charade of a roll call to be displayed before everypony else.

    Please, somepony else move...

    A movement caught my eye, somepony moving at the side.  Or was it-

    ...just somepony staggering while in the grip of a fever.

    I was alone.

    “Come on, all pegasi!  Get out here!”

    He could see me, but he wanted me out of hiding.  Visible. The entire mall area was now silent other than the tiny pitter-patter of my hooves as I stood and trotted with my my head down in front of everypony else.  Being forced to stand in the middle of the entire open space of the shops, I became the one little source of attention. A single point to be focussed on. Remembered, known...hated.  I kept my head down. If I dared open my eyes, the distance to any sense of safety would be further than any road to freedom had ever felt.

    “Head up, slave!”

    Howling in pain, I stumbled and fell as his whip lashed the side of my neck.  Quaking on the ground, I looked up at The Master, standing ten feet before me.

    “I...I'm here!  I'M HERE!”

The whip slapped off the ground near my legs just enough to skiff them, stinging like a rough slap to the skin.  Skittering to the side, coughing on my scream, I tried to get to my hooves.

    “I'm here, WHAT?”

    “I'm here, Master!”

    He grumbled, seemingly finally satisfied.

    “Now get up!  I have no need for any troublemakers, pegasi worst of all.”

    His intent was obvious.  The failure of his plan to use me as a gift to his raider slaves required the Master to reassert his position over me.  I was nothing more than a public display. Whimpering, trying to hold tears back, I stood up, cradling the whipped leg off the ground.

    The Master began his routine.  Names were called by the slaves, along with their slave numbers and type of race.  Breezy Day, Number Eight-Zero-Nine, unicorn. Harshhoof, Number Three-Three-One, earth pony.

    Brimstone Blitz, Number Six-Six-Six, earth pony.

    He also quoted Glimmerlight's on her account, Number Zero-Zero-Five, unicorn.  The Master didn't look too pleased at her lack of attendance, scowling as he nodded for her name to be checked.  Name after name, number after number, earth pony after unicorn.

    Amidst all of it, I stood alone in front of everypony else, shaking as I saw the Master maintain eye contact with me even while others shouted.  Seeing me looking, he grinned and winked at me. Mewling, I looked away, seeing raiders snickering at me from both sides, so exposed between both sides.

    I didn't even notice that silence had fallen.

    “Come on!  One more to go, where are ya, eh?”

    The Master looked around.  Everypony knew who hadn't spoken, but he made a show of it.

    “Murky Number—”

    Screaming, I staggered away as my face welted in pain diagonally over my muzzle. I hadn’t even seen his whip approaching before the horrid crack of leather across my face. Dropping to my rear, I held both hooves over my already bleeding nose.

    “That's not your name, slave!  Don't lie to me!”

    “N-Number Seven, Number, um...”

    What was my number?  Oh Goddesses, what was my number?

    “...seven?”

    “Number Seven is your name, slave!  I want your number!”

    The whip landed close enough to just whisp harsh air near my face again, making me fall over backwards in shock.  Raiders laughed, other slaves grinned, enjoying seeing the pegasus the source of their overseer's attentions.

    “I...I don't know, I wasn't tol—”

    The whip snapped down on my right, I yelped and rolled to my left, scrambling up to my hooves again.

    “You don't know!?  I told you, Number Seven!”

    I wanted to scream, to frustratedly bellow that he hadn't!  But I saw it in his eyes, that baleful look. He knew just as well as I did that he hadn't passed on the number to me.

    “Your number is Zero-Zero-Seven!  Now remember!”

    “Yes. Yes, Master!” I added the latter part as I saw the whip raise again.  My shrill voice pitched out and broke on the word 'Master' out of sheer fear, causing a group of raiders to mockingly laugh.  From the other side, I heard some unicorn bucks mock my voice themselves. Somehow, I felt that if it had been me to talk, I'd have been punished.  Double standards were very active when it came to pegasi in Fillydelphia.

    Or perhaps just to me.

    He snarled, stepping forward. “Now, repeat it.”

    “Number Seven...”

    “Good.  Heh, we have progress!”

    The surrounding slaves and raiders lit up a small snicker with him, taking their cue well.

    “Number Zero-Zero-Seven...”

    “Very good. We'll make a little obedient slave out of you yet.  Now, last part? Come on.”

    My voice almost sighed as I spoke.

    “...pegasus.”

    “What was that?  Speak up, Number Seven!”

    “Pegasus.”

    He drew back the whip. Tensing up, I whined at seeing the windup, before it came down. It didn't miss.  It landed directly on my fleece, striking my right wing beneath it. I felt the fragile bones and dead muscles spasm and flare in pain.  Crying out, I staggered to the side.

    “I said speak up!  Loud and proud, so that everypony can hear!”

    Twisted genius.  ‘Loud and proud’, the feeling many ponies in here had about pegasus attitudes. Arrogant and self centred.  The Master, he just...he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

    I took a breath, the whip looking all too likely if I didn't.  Tears in my eyes, I closed them and shouted to the skies above, the ones that would never hear me to answer or come down to aid the one pegasus it had lost.

    “Number Seven!  Number Zero-Zero-Seven!  Pegasus!  Master!”

    He mockingly looked impressed, before grinning and chucking.

    “Oooh, how proud you are, eh?  Well, get used to being down amongst us land-lovers here, slave.  Back to your dwellings!  All of you!”

    The slaves moved.  Brimstone headed directly back to watch over Glimmerlight without so much as a glance at me.  Raiders joked and raucously laughed at the display they had witnessed. Some slaves still saw my voice as some sort of running gag.  Others scowled as they muttered about the sky-lovers.

    Alone, I just lay down on the spot as everypony whirled around me on their own ways.  Stuck on the ground amongst hatred, I shivered with my head hidden under my own hooves amidst one of the few remaining beams of light that centred right down on me. It cast a spotlight upon me, one that held me alone from the entire darkened nighttime Mall.  I didn’t care. I’d already been held out on show enough that this was nothing for them to see me upset.  

I didn’t even dare move until Brimstone finally returned to lightly nudge me and signal that we were leaving.

    An alien world.

    Stories in the past had spoken of places that were unlike anything ponies would ever, should ever, see.  Now I was standing in one of them.

    The Fillydelphia crater expanded ahead of me.  A colossal scar upon the planet itself that would no doubt remain as a painful reminder longer than any picture I could ever draw.  I had imagined it as a perfect circle, but really that wasn't quite true. Tougher areas of rock or buildings had reflected the shockwave or the fire just enough to slow its progress.  As such, the colossal border stretching in all directions was more like the ragged edge of an irregular cliffside than a geometric shape. There was no beauty here, only a mercilessly indiscriminate and vibrant horror.

    The entire thing had blown the earth away so harshly that to walk to the middle would seemingly take somepony a significant height below the usually flat surface of Fillydelphia.  A serried and ruin-pocketed surface flowed down each of the slopes from the sides in ways I could never have imagined. Smooth, glass-like surfaces were in my mind, but the truth was that there was wreckage, collapsed housing that had fallen below the earth, and even small hills from chunks of rock too hard or too solid to actually be shifted by the balefire.  It was almost like a small war zone contained in a weird shaped bowl.

    No, there was nothing here but wretched and twisted devastation curled into its most heinous shapes.  No wonder Red Eye was still sending slaves in. To hunt through all that refuse and loose earth for radioactive material would take decades to complete!  Even as I stared down from the massive piles of earth that surrounded the entire crater, I began to realise how easy it would be to get lost in that skeletal jungle of rock and metal.

    “You know where we're going Brimstone?”

    The warlord had been standing, watching into the crater himself.  We’d had to get by Red Eye's defences around the crater by claiming we were on a work detail.  I had still been depressed and hurt by the roll call earlier enough that the guards believed our story that I had been sentenced here for stealing.  As such, we'd been lumped with large saddlebags each that they used for the materials. I had wondered about the defences. Why would they want to stop somepony going in?

    Then I'd noticed the guns had pointed inwards, and suddenly the dangers in here made perfect sense.

    “The rot's old lab should be near the rough outskirts. We shouldn't need to go in too deep.  He said to look for an angular metal shaft that would probably still have survived at that depth.  Keep your eyes peeled, Murk.”

    Brimstone was allowing me the freedom of working together here.  Even he had been shaken by the sight of the direct impact zone that ended this portion of the world.  Alongside us, we saw ponies retching and coughing with radiation sickness that even outstripped my own wandering into the crater for their work.  They almost looked ghoul like, for their very flesh seemed to sag and hair was coming off in patches. Very quickly I realised how glad I was Weathervane had treated me before leaving, and for his Rad-X.  According to him, I'd have about half an hour before I started to feel it, hopefully enough time to get back to him. Approaching an hour would be a serious risk, assuming I didn't encounter any higher radiation areas in the process.

    “Come along, Murk.  No sense in hanging around with this much rad activity in the air.”

    He clambered over the earthworks and dropped down the slope with the rugged capabilities of a pony that was born to the wasteland's troubles.  My own descent (delayed until I could push myself to take that last step) was somewhat less capable as I hopped, floundered, fell, and promptly rolled down the remainder before coming to a halt upside down, half-buried in the earth.  It was dry and warm, like a heavy sand with absolutely no real tension around me. I struggled not to breathe as I tried to pull my head and front hooves from the ground. Mumbling and trying to shout for help, I ended up just making something more akin to 'Mmphpmmph!' while waggling my rear legs around.  Even by my standards this wasn't particularly dignified.

    A quick tug on my tail ripped me free as I dangled in front of Brimstone, my tail in his mouth.  Swinging back and forth like a pendulum, gasping for air and spitting out mounds of foul tasting dry dirt, I eventually sighed as I grasped how hard this was going to be.  There was absolutely no way to move other than to plough through the loose earth that had been chopped up by the balefire and shockwave. Perhaps if I could—

    “YARGH!”

    He dropped me.  Landing sideways, I flailed around until I managed to force myself up.  No wonder so many ponies got irradiated here. Even aside from the ambience, the loose earth kicked up in your face, nose, and eyes every step you had to take.  I'd heard of such an effect after large explosions, like a loose earth problem, but how did the ground remain this way after two hundred years? Were megaspells so powerful that they corrupted the ground to never truly heal on its own?

    It wouldn't surprise me. After all, that's what had happened to Weathervane.

    We staggered on, Brimstone's heavy hooves not finding good purchase on the very unstable ground.  Very quickly, I felt my stomach twist. Fear clenched my heart as thoughts of the radiation piercing through my Rad-X based resistance entered my mind.  They were quelled as it rumbled.

    Malnourishment, that old hateful presence across my entire life was still with me.  It dawned that I still hadn't eaten a thing since Protégé's apple stew gift other than drinking foul RadAway (A substance I suspected was dehydrating me even more if my dry and cracked lips had anything to do with it). I could feel my limbs trembling lightly from the hunger.  That ever-present feeling that you never got used to as a slave, of never truly having enough food in you to feel full or properly fuelled. Really, the only thing keeping it from affecting me too badly was the greater threats ahead of me in my mind.

    Shaking my head harshly, I looked around to try and take my thoughts off of my aching belly.  Around me, I saw many of the “regulars” to the crater were wearing planks of wood on their hooves to spread out the weight.  Those without were like us, their hooves disappearing up to the knee or, in my case, torso on every step, and kicking up dust and earth everywhere.  The entire operation was truly grim. Scrambling through fallen houses on their sides and under mounds of loose earth, they sought out scraps and valuables to throw into their saddlebags.  I could see the mouths of the earth ponies were raw and scarred from the ragged edges they had to dig and scramble for. Unicorns lazily levitated things with little real power. Every few seconds, I heard somepony shouting, either in a fight over who found what or in a panic over some injury.  The sound echoed in the lonely maze of ruin that towered above me on every side.

    I had been a slave in some horrible places.  I had been an illiterate librarian assistant.  I had pulled carts and tugged scrap. I had been a forced labour servant to a trader.  I'd farmed rocks.

    But this...this was the most dreary and depressing sight I had ever witnessed.

    Half-skipping and half-almost-swimming, I kept up with Brim as best I could after snapping my goggles across my eyes.  Wicked Slit had some weird ways but clearly she knew a comfy set when she found one! At least in my service they'd keep all this loose earth from my eyes, especially what was kicked up by Brimstone Blitz.  His massive presence kept the more opportunistic hunters at bay as we headed for the location Brim had been told of. He had seen it from the lip of the crater already after we'd climbed up the refuse pile. A single flagpole still oddly standing among all of the ruin (or perhaps raised again afterwards by the most determined flag bearer in history). Nopony would think anything of it but for an oddity, but according to Weathervane, if we looked for a small formation of little rocks, the entrance would be nearby as a hidden underground metal shaft.

    It seemed close.  I really hoped we could just poke our heads in, grab what we could near the door, and then gallop off.  We were about five minutes in of my thirty minute limit before Rad-X would begin to wear off and I'd start to suffer at a vastly increased rate.  That thought still clenched at my heart. Given a moment of hesitation, I might lose my nerve and gallop for the exit. What was I doing here? Brimstone probably didn't really need my help, and I still had Barb's offer, right?  But I couldn't. I’d made my stand; I was going to put my hopes in these ponies, and just pray that something worthwhile might come of finding some allies. The fear of failure was so great in me that even one slip might convince me that it wasn't even worth ever trying again. I was hanging onto the cliff edge with one hoof here, relying on finding some help to pull me out of it again.

    As such, I was fearing everything that might aid in that failure, and of course, chief among it was the radiation.  In a way, it was somewhat creepy. I couldn't see the radiation. I couldn't feel it right now either. Only through knowing was I aware of the malignant, magical aftermath accumulating in my body from the crater.  I needed to take my mind off of it, get my mind off it all. Perhaps Brimstone would be open to conversation?

    Truly I had reached the end of things available to help distract me if that was my option.

    “Brimstone?”

    “Aye?”

    Well, it was a start.

    “When we first met, I thought you were escaping.  Did you honestly just run back to your pen? To Protégé?”

    “Aye.”

    It wasn't much, but anything for now to build some conversation to stop my imagination running rampant in this place was good.

    Or to stop it settling on my lungs, or my eyes...

    “What was your clan like, anyway?  I'm sorry, but I hadn't heard of it.”

    “You probably didn't. You were kept sheltered.”

    “Didn't feel like it...”

    Brimstone snorted, looking around briefly. The look frightened me, but at least he was talking now.

    “Whatever.  There were about a hundred of us, one of the biggest single clans.  Some called us a gang or a warband, but we chose the term clan. It speaks of a proper bred group rather than just a motley collection, for we only took in the toughest around. Caravan guards used to pay us in advance so they knew they could promise safe passage to their clients.  Anypony who wanted to join had to survive a ten minute beating from the others. Sometimes I joined in. Those ones never made it, other than one. Reputation enough that other raiders paid us tribute just to not steamroll them, so we really had another five or so groups out there that I put chiefs in control of. Because of our size, we often split up, spread the misery around, y'know?”

    Okay, lots of talking.  I was surprised as we trotted along.  Perhaps this place was getting to the big stoic raider.  I'd never get used to thinking of him as good or bad. He just seemed to drift too easily without, presumably, Glimmerlight around to guide him.  Sometimes he felt like a noble redeemer, others like an unstable mountain of carnage ready to unleash its rage on anypony that rubbed him the wrong way. Yet that last line had almost sounded self-demeaning.

    “You had other leaders then?”

    “My Big Four.  The toughest or nastiest ones in the entire clan, except me.  Three of them are in here, actually. Two of them went to the Pit, the third is a nasty piece of work called Barb who took over the clan after I gave it up.  He won't dare confront me directly though, he knows what would happen. But back in the day, I sent them places. They went and did the job, got the loot, and brought back any prisoners to our home camp.  We hunted other raiders just to prove we were better. Sometimes we all got together just to scare the shit out of the wasteland in some big attack. Took Ponyville that way. Heh, most of the guards just galloped off the moment they saw us.”

    I saw a nostalgic grin spread onto his face. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea to go poking around.

    “Pity for them Barb and his lot had their retreat cut off, he always was good at that sort of thing.  It's why I made him one of the Big Four. Not one of the Ponyville settlers survived that day. We made sure of it.  An example. Don't fuck with the Great Warlord Brimstone. Anypony who goes to Ponyville now? They'll see my legacy.”

    There was something disturbing about hearing this from his own mouth. That last sentence had sounded suddenly regretful amongst what else sounded like a boast.  He stopped, that same melancholy seemed to overtake him briefly.

    “Sometimes I wonder how many I killed as a warlord. How many I sold into these pits to die under Red Eye before he betrayed us at the hand-over and took us too.  How many families curse our name and weep at night for their lost ones? How many colts or fillies growing up without parents because of what we did? How many only growing up because of what we did?”

    Brimstone stopped, turning toward me.  It looked like he was having trouble knowing how to emote something.

    “Makes you wonder what history will see of us.  Will they remember the Warlord or the repenter? Or just...ah, fuck it.”

    He stomped off ahead of me with a manner that implied I was not to follow or go too close to him.  Somehow, I got the feeling I'd stumbled on a side of him I shouldn't have seen. I'd seen him angry plenty of times.  I'd seen him show regret or a more melancholic side before too.

    But that time, he had honestly seemed, well...upset.

    “Get away! This is my scavenge spot! I find stuff here, so you go away! Go away!”

    We had come to the flagpole after ten minutes of laboured trotting only to find a scavenging unicorn mare poking around. I couldn't even tell her mane's colour, it was too dirty on the few strands remaining from weeks of radiation poisoning. Her bony-looking pink body only seemed to be in a worse state, while her cutie mark of some meat on a stick was almost obscured by scars. The rest was covered in rough fabric bandages over festering wounds. She was waving a chunk of rebar at Brimstone after he had entered, her eyes full of panic and seemingly well-prepared to attack out of sheer desperation.

    Brimstone was less than subtle about how he dealt with the problem.

    “Move away now, or that same rebar will cave in your head. I've no time for this.”

    I could see this turning violent very quickly. Even I could see the mare wasn’t thinking straight, she was just terrified! I knew what it was like to live under the ticking clock of rad-poisoning. Hastily, I moved toward Brimstone. His mood had been slowly turning from regret to anger. Whether at himself or the situation with Glimmer, I couldn't tell.

    “Look, let me talk to—”

    “I said move, mare!”

    She shook her head, body shivering and eyes far too wide.

    “I said you go away! Th-this is my place! It has the scrap I need! I'm almost done my months. I...just two more weeks I think! Nopony has ever done it, I think I can! I...I know who you are! So go away, Warlord! You brought me in here, you won't take my work for freedom away from me! GET BACK!”

    I moved over, hopping onto my rear legs and placing my front two on Brim's upper front leg to get his attention.

    “She's just scared, Brim! We don't have to-”

    “Enough of this!”

    The air was knocked clean out of me as he swept me to the side roughly and charged forward. The rebar was grabbed in his teeth as I saw him barrel into the mare and knock her behind the collapsed wall out of my sight. I heard her shrieking, until his warcry drowned her out. I huddled into a corner of the ruins, trying to get my lungs to work properly again.

    Brimstone emerged, spitting the bloody rebar out and motioning to me that the door was inside, leaving a moaning sound behind him. I could see the wild look in his eyes, and his entire body trembled with a dying frenzy. Behind him, the mare fled, if such a word could apply. She was limping horribly, and holding her frayed and now blooded clothing to the side of her head.

    Any disagreement I had with his method here would go unvoiced. I never wanted that anger directed at me.

It took a lot of willpower for me to get up and follow him to the hidden door half-buried in the ground. It was disguised as an old radiator, just as Weathervane had explained to Brimstone. I kept my eyes averted, not wanting to see the sight of the poor mare as she wailed and tried to gather up what she could before unsteadily fleeing into the smog.

    Darkness awaited inside as I crept in ahead of Brimstone. After a few seconds, he followed. But hidden in the corridor, I caught him taking a last look at the dripping rebar, before snarling to himself and slamming his front right hoof into the wall with enough force to dent the metallic corridor and send a ringing noise down it all.

    “Fucking damn it. Too much like before. I can't lose you.”

    It was barely a whisper, but I heard it clearly. It was becoming apparent to me just how badly this situation was affecting the big raider, knowing that the only saviour to his life's direction was at death's door and he was so far away from her. 

In a way, I could relate. Both of us were after the same thing, albeit from different approaches. Something to prove we were who we wanted to be. Not who we started as.

Glancing at the thick darkness ahead of us in the metallic corridor, I flicked on the faulty light of the PipBuck and cast it around the entrance. I wasn’t terrified of the dark, rather more dark that could contain something, such as whatever it was that Red Eye was worried about coming out of the crater. But right now, I was too afraid of the raider behind me to even consider hesitating in the job. Instead, I pulled off my goggles and left them around my forehead to see better, before advancing past the doorway, and being struck by just how quiet everything suddenly got in here.
   
    Inside was what amounted to a bunker entrance, an empty guard booth sat to one side behind thick glass. I could still see their hat sitting on the chair. Beyond that, perforated metal stairs led down underground past an already open cage gate. Clearly, this was a larger complex than we had been told of. Particles of dust floated in the air from the still atmosphere, but somehow I got the impression it was just as contaminated as outside. We were fifteen minutes in. This had to be quick.

    The hooves of my companion clanging off the mesh stairs hardly let the silence be unbroken, so I took the opportunity to move ahead a little and try to stick to the shadows. It gave him some space to think and kept me away from that noise, but the further down I went, the more I was beginning to realise that this stairwell was not ending. It just kept going deeper.

The entire stairway was just one long, cramped way down, with shutters every so often that seemed to have been wedged up. The steel frames, deep shadows, and flickering light of my PipBuck didn't do much to make it seem anything but an intimidating stairway into the underbelly of the crater. Into the heart of the balefire.

I tried to push such imaginary thoughts from my head, but with this place hidden away for years even from Red Eye, I couldn't help but feel like I had stepped into something distinctly not in Fillydelphia. Feeling the stairs creak and occasionally bend below me, I wondered what the standards of this place’s construction were. After all, it had survived relatively intact under the very site of the megaspell.

    Ten feet further, and the darkness gave way to something different to my right. A doorway! There was one door at least on this descent. It looked like a small guard post intended into the right hand side wall. If I had to guess, maybe somewhere to go if not on door duty above? 

I waved to Brim before disappearing into it. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't much. A small desk, a smashed terminal on it beside a lot of strewn papers and small relics of whatever guard used to spend his days sat away down here. Given the relatively minimal security, I imagined the building that this had once existed under was the real place that would have kept ponies out. After all, this entrance used to be a good forty feet below ground until the balefire wiped it all away.

Kept ponies out, I wondered. Or in?

    I sifted through the guard’s belongings. A rusted old toaster had been smashed on the floor, and the sink above it gave out only a thick brown goop. Nothing really made sense to my eyes, all written notes and documents beyond my ability to read. With his heavy tread, I saw Brimstone’s head poke in through the doorway to what I now knew was likely a common room or shared office space. Briefly, I contemplated asking Brimstone what any of the documents said, but at that moment, I doubted what he needed was me badgering him to be read what this old skeleton's groceries were—

    Wait...skeleton!?

    I flipped. I hadn't even noticed him, but letting out a terrified yelp, I made a dive over the desk. The pony skeleton had been dumped in the corner, bones cracked and lying around the main body. 

    Brimstone just grumbled at my reaction, before wandering around to have a look himself. He knocked it with a hoof, snorting.

    “Now this just ain't right.”

    “I...I hate skeletons.” I was whining and I didn't care, “The past. It's just horrible to think about. I don't like being reminded of it all. I see him or her and then I see a few things on a desk and-and I just can't help putting it all together. These ponies died as they saw their world come apart around them.”

    Brimstone glared briefly, raising an eyebrow, and poked at the desk, before rotating a small picture. Craning over the furniture, I had a look myself. On it was a montage of six images stapled together. Each showed a buck standing with a toothy grin beside a mare. Weren't those the same ones on the banners in the Mall?

    Yes. Yes, they were. Pinkie was there, her eyes staring at an odd angle out of frame. THey were looking right at me from the way Brimstone was holding it. I shivered at the uncanny coincidence, before he pulled her glaring eyes away. I could swear they followed me as the angle changed.

    “You want the past? This is it. This idiot believed in them but from all I've heard, discovered, and seen over the decades, they were the idiots who messed it all up. Put their hooves in places they shouldn't, made things that never should be, and meddled in magic and technology ponies never should have touched. I don't know the details. Few ponies do. But at the end of the day? It was under their guidance and leadership that the world ended. Too optimistic, too stupid. The world wasn't the perfect paradise you see, Murk. These ponies ruined it with their so-called 'Ministries.'

    I peered at the others. One was clearly the 'Rainbow Dash' that Weathervane had mentioned, judging by her mane. I saw the medical poster one too, she looked surprised at the buck grinning for a photo with her. How could she have caused anything? I surmised that perhaps the others just did things. Pinkie, probably. That yellow and pink one was too nice looking to do anything, I was sure of it.

    “That buck really loved them, didn't he?”

    “Foolish idiot.  But that isn't him lying here.”

    His back hoof tapped the skeleton, nudging the skull to fall to the floor.  I winced, before turning back to the raider. He nodded at the skeleton.

    “That's fresh.  No cobwebs, no mould.  Somepony died down here within a week or so.  Wasn't rad-poisoning, before you go on that theory.”

    I blinked as he wandered out of the room.

    “Why?  What tells you that?”

    “Rad-poisoning doesn't crack your bones in two for marrow, Murk.”

    I felt every hair on my neck stand on end as the shattered leg bones suddenly made horrifying sense.  Backing away into the corridor, I averted my eyes and shook as I leaned on the wall. I might have cried for them, but my attention was instead drawn by an all too familiar sound.

    Beep!

    I was getting used to it.  I didn't jump or even squeal from the sudden noise.

    Well, perhaps a little hop...and maybe a squeak.

    Beep!

    Brimstone's harsh glance looked accusingly at me as my PipBuck began to blip and beep.  I'd turned off the sound! How on Equestria had that dial turned around again? Was it on automatic?  Sighing, I turned it back down to a level that only I might hear what the apparent automated audio diary had to say.

    “Hah!  Sundial scores!  Heh, sorry, wanted to try opening one of these things a little excitedly.  Oh boy, is that gonna sound embarrassing when I listen back to it or what?”

    I couldn't stifle a giggle.  After today, after all that had happened in my life since the Pit, I couldn't help but enjoy Sundial's more innocent times.  His worries that someone might laugh at something he said? What a world when that was your real concern. Not like mine.

    “So, uh, basically, yeah.  I asked her.”

    Oh! I gasped slightly, feeling my cheeks turn up in excitement. What had she said?

    “And well, she said yes!  I got a date! Well, I had one, since I'm recording this at night.  Skydancer. She's just...she's just wonderful! Everything I said, she responded to.  She makes me laugh! I tell you, she has a mean sense of humour too. We're meeting again tomorrow night before she heads off to Manehattan on a delivery.  I just...wow. How did she come into my life like that? To just appear from nowhere, help me, and then immediately become so important?”

    I could believe it. I'd met two mares who had done the same for me.  Littlepip and, well, the mare. I really wished I could see her again.

    “So yeah, times are good.  Well, my times are. Equestria wide, not so much.  My old man's not too pleased that I'm still working for the Ministry of Wartime Technology.  You know, Ministry Mare Applejack came to meet us at the new factory yesterday too! She's incredible, really.  Totally on our side, aiming to have us make more armour than weapons, and even hinting that we may get to work on some new project soon.  I coulda sworn she looked a little upset as she spoke of it being made to protect the ponies from having to die like...yeah, I had guessed it was about her brother.  Big damn hero, that stallion. But I've signed up to the work. Longer hours, sure. But a higher pay and I get to protect ponies! These Ministries aren't so bad, really.  They do want to help us, I don't believe what they all say quietly about them. Although Pinkie Pie is kinda freaky. A little grating to see everywhere you go. Heh, she even sent me a personally written birthday card this year.  Nice but, well, weird.”

    Conflicting reports, but between a lovely young buck in Equestria of old and a borderline psychotic raider trying to drop the habit of anger and killing, I knew who I would trust to believe. I sensed Sundial and I would agree mightily on the merits of being watched forever by Pinkie Pie.

    “And just to end off, I kinda need this higher pay.  I've decided to start saving now. If Skydancer and I become a...y'know, thing?  Well, somepony has to be able to pay for a second Stable ticket, right? Okay, night shift time. Wow I'm-I'm properly happy.  Hopefully all this war business blows over and Skydancer and I can just spend time. Well, I'll um, see you later. Alright, that just sounds weird every time, what should I say though?”

    Beats me.

    “Argh!  Dammit, I forgot to talk about my cutie mark again!  I promise! I'll get to that next time! So, yeah, happy Sundial signing off.  Bye bye!”

    “Bye...”

    “What was that?”

    My eyes shot upwards.  I'd been following Brimstone further down into the complex without even really realising.

    “Oh!  Um, nothing.  Just me being weird, I guess.”

    Brimstone seemed to take that as a satisfactory conclusion (wait a moment...) and turned back to what was in front of us.  The complex had opened out into a room lit by a single almost non-functional strobe light above. It was pretty big, stretching perhaps ten feet upwards and about fifteen to the other end where a huge metallic door was clearly locked shut up a flight of mesh stairs.  All around us there were vents in the floor, long since disabled no doubt.

    But my eyes were instead drawn to the way it was decorated.  Little slips of paper covered the walls and floor. Were they pamphlets?  Tribal designs were haphazardly coated on the walls. I recognised them. They were like Brimstone Blitz's.

    “Zebra war paint designs. I chose them to scare other ponies, but this...”

    He learned closer, reading the words of a slip of paper.

    “It says, 'The Blessed Children of the Striped Way'.  Well, there's a mouthful. What the hell is this? Zebra cults under Fillydelphia?”

    I honestly hadn't got a clue to even answer.  But even as I stood up, I jumped on hearing a light scuffing nearby.  What was that? Where did it come from? I backed off toward the door in fright as my eyes ran from side to side. Where had that noise come from!?

    “Murk?  What's wrong?”

    “Something in here...”

    I heard another...and another, little dry shifts of material on metal.  Then clicks. I knew that sound. I'd had enough of them pointed at me over the years to scare me.

    Safety catches on firearms.

    Below!

    “Brimstone! Watch out! The vents!”

    I was almost too late. The first vent erupted open in a burst of dry air as a black, white and rotten figure hauled itself up from the duct beneath it.  Ghouls!

    Brimstone was just adjacent to it.  If I hadn't shouted, they may have got him.  But forewarned, his left hind leg lashed out and kicked the vent right back down on its hinges so hard it left a dent as the lid crashed down on the occupant.  A sickening crunch of metal colliding with flesh and bone rung out, and the vent slammed shut again with the figure slumping away.

    It wasn't enough, all around us more were popping up.  They weren't zebras! I could see them clearly, ghoul ponies painted in zebra stripes over their barding and weaponry.  Clambering from the holes in an ambush, they completely surrounded us. Behind me, I heard a crash as wall panels ripped out and two more galloped down the hall at me.  Hideous, dry war cries filled the chamber.

    Brimstone either didn't notice or didn't care for all the intimidation as he hurled himself at the nearest ones.  One front hoof roughly knocked a pistol from the magical grip of a unicorn while he threw his entire weight on one that was still trying to get out of the vent.  Flattening it, Brimstone’s hooves beat the first ghoul's head off the ground twice before a quick twist hurled the unconscious body at his comrades. Three more fell as they attempted to cluster together for a charge.

    A shotgun roared.  I saw a zebra-coloured ghoul collapse against the wall as Brim threw him in the path of the shot.  Struggling to sort his aim from the massive recoil, the ghoul was bucked square in the chest into the wall where he lay silent.

    There was nothing I could do. I ran.  In these places, with no way out, I did what I had always done.

    Found a corner and curled up.

    Gunfire echoed a dozen times in this small space.  How they missed Brimstone was beyond me, or was he just that good that he had known when to dodge behind some wounded ghouls?  He was using the cramped arena and their thick numbers against them even as his colossal size allowed him to simply pound anypony he met into the ground with unyielding force.

    But that same size was his weakness.  It didn't take them long to figure it out before I heard the carefully aimed shotgun blast.

    I wanted to scream.  But as I saw the mighty raider rock to the side and grunt in pain before staggering into the wall, I knew it was over.  Blood flowed from his side where buckshot had split open a dozen wounds. The ghoul took aim to finish it.

    A flare of green magic flew across the chamber, striking the ceiling and lighting everything with a brilliant emerald haze.  Under a trickling of molten metal from the searing wound in the roof, the ghouls turned in shock before backing off immediately.  I had just screamed and hit the floor. Whatever that was, it was one intense weapon.
   
    “Stay your judgement, my children!”

    A ghoul.  A unicorn buck by the looks of it, bearing black and white robes.  Straggly, dyed white hair fell in single strands from his head. Held in his magic was an ornate yet rusted magical energy pistol that looked like it could incinerate a brahmin in a single shot.  As every ghoul in the chamber bowed to him, I galloped over to Brim before realising; what could I really do? His right foreleg was badly wounded to the point where he could do little but limp. With a snort, he cast me away before pushing himself up, stamping the injured leg a few times and swearing colourfully enough to make me blush.  How dare he talk about Luna that way!

    “Pilgrims!  You approach our sanctuary with strange intent. Tell me, do you bear the signs that shall stay our hand? Did those in the Station send you?”

    The ghoul...priest?  What was he? Whatever he was, he moved toward us.  I stood between him and Brimstone, before realising how pointless that was.

    “We, um, we came to find some things for a friend!  Things we were told were here, anti, um, anti ra...some sort of stuff that helps against rads used in making medicine and some silver bouncy ball.”

    Yup.  Definitely a born trader, Murky.

    The ghouls hissed to themselves as their leaders eyes narrowed, before trotting around me.

    “You speak of heretical relics, little one.” he spoke with a raspy voice while waving his glowing horn over me, “It is good you survive!  For they have brought us a gifted one! You are blessed!”

    He must have seen my confused look. Blessed?  Clearly he had no idea about my life.  Before I could voice my reasons, he continued.

    “I speak of the gift within you that I can sense. An ever expanding source of the great striped blessing!”

    Wait, the striped blessing?  Inside me? It took a few seconds, but even my brain began to piece it together, only for Brimstone to voice it first.

    “You— ergh, you idiots believe the zebras blessed you with radiation?  What a load of—”

    “Yes, warrior.  Did we not once worship the sun long ago?  The zebras brought many suns to eradicate the misery we had become in the shadow below the moon of nightmares!  In their wake we have been blessed with the purity of the flame! To be converted and blessed for all eternity that we may continue the work of the striped ones! That was what they gave to us, the will to carry on their mission even as the world was cast in brightness.  You have been chosen, little one, by birth I sense, not as we were by those who came to this city.”

    I could see his horn glowing again. He must have had medical training to spot my irradiated infection.  Had he been an associate of Weathervane back in Old Equestria if he knew about this place? I glanced at Brimstone to check his condition, but much to my surprise, barring the injury holding him back, the big raider seemed to be fairly calm and conscious.  Judging by his scars, I could only assume he had been through worse in life.

    “Look, I...we can take those 'heretical' things off your hooves, no trouble?”

    “No. They are a reminder of our past, little one.  But I do invite you and your partner inside. His markings denote he has a liking to our blessed faith.  Perhaps you will learn, as we did, and understand why you are special. But we cannot risk the great deceiver or the bringer of the past to touch the items that would give them power.”

    “The who?”

    “The great deceiver!  The one of us who left our cause in early days to commit heresy!  To create substances to purge the blessing of the stripes from those who would be its children!  Who took our great prophet and leader to hold him in eternal confinement!”

    Weathervane. They were talking about Doctor Weathervane.  Had that crazed ghoul he had locked up been their old leader?  Just what had happened over two centuries between these ghouls?

    “As for the bringer of the past, he is the one who conquered the surface, that place we will one day hope to bring ruin to. That is what we were tasked. When they told us. Take Fillydelphia. We will liberate the blessed from his baleful gaze.”

    Red Eye!  They were fighting him?  That explained the defences around the crater. It was against ghoul attacks from a hidden lair they hadn't known about.

    “Now, I must ask you to enter.  My children here are eager, and do not see the gift within you. Come!”

    I wasn't sure.  These ghouls were insane.  Radiation as a blessing?  Becoming a skinless rotten and living corpse was the true way forward?  The gift of the zebras? Someone who told them to fight against Equestria?  I wanted to just get out of there, but the items we needed were no doubt inside.  Besides, looking at the fanatical and heavily armed ghouls, it's not like we had a choice.

    I genuinely hadn't expected it.  My mind had imagined cold hard metal labs and a layout similar to the chunks of Stables I'd seen in Red Eye's scrapyards.  Instead the inside was warm, full of rich wood textures, and more open than I might have ever expected. Above us lay a polished wooden carving, bearing three butterflies in a glittering pattern, their patterns lit with glittering gems.  Clearly Equestria's medical research had enjoyed their comforts in the hidden workplaces. I saw offshoot corridors, stairs to a higher open-plan level, and several secured rooms. The furniture was soft and bright red. Faded perhaps, but the soft leather looked comfortable all the same.

Dozens of ghouls wandered around, both mares and bucks.  I saw two of them sharing a tender moment of an embrace nearby.  They were all speaking a language I could not understand. Zebra, I guessed, although I wondered how they had learned that, if so.  Traders stood by their tables, a teacher was explaining how to repair a spark generator to three others. This was a full community!  The only real offputting elements were the tribal markings everywhere in white and black paint, and the dead plants that languished as unclean piles near the corners.  Only that made this seem anything other than a perfectly peaceful little ghoul home. Given how lonely I normally was, I could appreciate the comfort of it.

And yet, the way these ghouls interacted unsettled me. They had wide eyes, their rotted mouths almost held in forces grins at times. Some looked around as though hearing things even I didn’t. Occasionally, one would seem to chant something in a strange language.

    Trotting past those strange individuals, I could easily feel that this place was just as irradiated as everywhere else.  My Rad-X was beginning to wear off. I could feel my windpipe beginning to itch. How long had it been? Twenty five minutes?  We had to settle this now. If I could gallop the whole way perhaps I'd be fine.

    “Tell me, little one.  Why do you desire the relics?”

    The ghoul advanced beside me, a good few feet ahead of the others that formed a protective barrier around Brimstone.  I wasn't sure for which side. It seemed this leader had taken me as the speaker for us here due to my tainted lung infection.

    “We have a friend. She is dying.”

    “My condolences, what of?”

    “Radiation poisoning.”

    Every ghoul in the vicinity paused.  There was a moment of silence before a delighted and sick cheering went up from every ghoul I could hear.  Wincing, I fell to the ground and desperately covered my ears.

    “Bless your friends soul!  For she is blessed to travel down the path without even requiring our aid!  This is a wondrous event!”

    It took fourteen guards to restrain Brimstone.  Snarling, biting, and bucking, he was eventually pulled to the ground in his efforts to kill the leader.  Four of the ghouls were injured in the process before they finally got a good grip through numbers. After a gun butt to his injured hoof, the big stallion growled in pain and shook his mane out, his eyes fixed unrelentingly on the ghoul.  I mentally pleaded with him to remain still. I didn't want to see him hurt.

    I wanted to protest it, but the moment I did that all too hated feeling returned. That convulsing cough that signalled that my radiation poisoning was beginning to grow.  My airway was rougher, beginning to burn.

    “You show good signs yourself. This is what they told us would happen. The world would light, and then we would take Fillydelphia for their gift. Come, little one. We should be away from this place. Allow me to show you what we truly aspire to.”

    “One...one second. Please.”

    The ghoul nodded gently as I cantered back to Brimstone.  Kneeling down beside his head, I spoke quietly to him, hoping that none of the ghouls watching him from a few feet away with weapons would hear...

    “I think I can do something here.  I'm the little sneaky thief, remember?  Look, you're injured. Please, let me do this for you, Brimstone.  Give me some space here. Let me help Glimmerlight.”

    The big raider almost got me to run scared from his glare.  But eventually, he nodded.

    “Just scream if you need me to kick things off.  But in ten minutes I'm going regardless. She can't wait.”

    “I'll try. Look, take the potion.  I know it's for me, but you need it.”

    Brimstone looked almost confused for a second, shocked as I drew it from my saddlebag and passed it over.  Eventually, taking it closer to him with a scornful look of being 'helped', he shook his head.

    “Why do you care?”

    “I...I just do.  I'd want somepony to do it for me.”

    He looked about ready to say something, but thought better of it and looked away.  Rising to my hooves, I struggled to comprehend the responsibility I'd just given myself.  I'd wanted a chance to prove to myself that I wasn't just going to always hide and run away.  Greater fears would eat at me in many places, but in this moment, I had to take the chance that perhaps things could go right for once.

    “My name is Magister Heartcare, little one.  Yours is Murk. We heard you coming in to lay our prepared defence. Did you not think we would have detection grids?  Now, what I am to show you is our home and our most sacred place. In preparation for my question to you.”

    He wasn't lying.  Home truly was the word.  We passed through corridors that showed sleeping areas, living rooms with musty old cushions for sitting on and chatting, or various workshops turning scrap into useful tools.  It wasn't large, perhaps fifty ghouls according to Heartcare (I guessed it was from his old medical profession), but it felt oddly safe and secure. I quite envied them. For a ghoul this was truly somewhere to be.

    Provided you had some crazed cult belief, anyway. I still questioned how that had come about. I’d never heard of such a thing, and they kept talking as though they’d been turned to it.

    Heartcare carried on, before waving into one of the rooms. It looked like a converted supply cupboard.

    “This is our weapons armoury, as we were instructed to keep.  You are lucky I saw you for what you are. A potential convert blessed by radiation.  Someday these will be the tools to bring about the revolution in the name of the striped blessing.”

    I was taken into a cramped, old room with a single workbench in the middle surrounded by rows of stuffed shelves.  I saw firearms of all shapes and sizes, including a few...oh gosh! Battle saddles! The Magister seemed to chuckle in amusement as I hopped to and fro, handling and looking at them all.  That was it! Sign me up! They had ones that could fit four small guns, two big guns, and even ones for big single-barrel artillery! All the handles, the gears...oooh, they were amazing!  I wanted to try them on. I'd have to draw myself in one later!

    “I see you enjoy our stocks, Murk.  We have learned over the many years what kinds to keep and which to throw away.  For example...”

    He floated his magical energy pistol out, checking the battery slot as he did so.  I watched the little release slide cause the housing to retract and expose the internals alongside the battery itself that acted as, I presumed, a magazine for shots.  Pleased that it was still holding charge from the shot earlier, he closed the slide. Surprisingly, he drifted it near me. Staring at it, I noticed him nod for me to take the pistol.

    “Do feel the weight, Murk.  Understand we care for our things.  Of course, I also wish to show that I trust you to not do harm. I want to know you as one of my people. That is the first step to any companionship, is it not?  Trust. We were told to seek more.”

    I wouldn't really know. I'd never been able to fully trust anypony.  I reached forward, biting the grip in my mouth, and immediately overcompensating.  The energy pistol was light! Not just without much weight but almost like a feather!  Twisting my head about, I quickly understood both how well made this weapon was to my rather basic knowledge, and how awkward mouth held guns really were.

    Heartcare moved around the armoury, turning away from me to tidy one of the benches while tutting at its idly dumped cleaning kit and several flat discs that I recognised as explosives.  I let the pistol drop into my hooves and turned it over a few times, playing around with it.

    “I do so try to have them keep it organised, and these mines should have been put away hours ago.  This is also where we keep the minor elements of heretical material. For all their harmful traits to us, the unblessed 'medical' liquid makes a good lubricant for our tools if properly prepared.”
   
    He pointed a hoof to a locked glass cabinet.  I recognised the clear liquid sachets from a couple in Weathervane's lab.  Anti-radiation water...gel...stuff. I winced as I saw the keypad lock. So much for stealing a key this time.

    “Murk, I realise I am dodging around the issues here.  There is your future to show. Please, follow me.”

    I didn't particularly feel like hearing much talk right now.  After hoofing over the pistol again, I felt my chest clench badly before I began to walk.  This was taking too long. Too much chit-chat and nicety that was letting the radiation slowly build up. Soon I'd be feeling—

    My thoughts died that moment as I felt my entire body quake. Oh no...

    The coughing took a full twenty seconds to subside.  I almost blacked out from the pain in my lungs as I felt a metallic tang in my mouth...blood.  I must have fallen against the desk, dozens of various coloured mines had collapsed all around me.  Shaking and feeling tears drip from my face at the sheer pain, I clenched my teeth and got up. I...I wanted to run away.  I wanted to just abandon all this. But then what would I be left with, the guilt and a lack of self confidence all over again?  I had to press on. I had to. I had to prove to Brimstone that I wanted to save her too. Show him I was worthwhile to have around and build trust.

    Heartcare had moved on to await me catching up. Good.  With a cheeky slip in the saddlebag I added a little...insurance, to my presence here, before pushing on after him.  Even if things turned out fine, it'd do well to keep me in good stead with Barb.

    A temple.  This place...had a temple.  Were the doctors of old highly religious?  Was it for ponies who were being treated in this odd underground place? Had it been built over two hundred years by insane ponies? Whatever the reason, it was here, and it was...well, strange.

    White smooth and polished rock raised up high to a pitch dark ceiling.  Recognising the colours and shapes embossed on them, I lowered my head respectfully as I looked in the entrance before offering a small prayer to Celestia and Luna for my deliverance.  However, the architecture wasn't what drew my eyes. Inside, there were several small pods like large eggs, each one about big enough to fit a pony inside it. They were hooked up to what looked like some sort of radiator that was half-embedded in the 'shell' of each pod.  All were connected to one generator at the back. No two of them were the same, like they’d been built from parts found in the crater and then painted to look majestic. However, all of the ghouls present reacted to my sudden and somewhat revealing gasp as my eyes spotted my objective!

    The silver sphere sat to one side of the room on a pedestal!  All I had to do was grab it!

    The Magister nodded to the two guards and turned to me.

    “Murk, here you see our nexus of worship.  We like to remind ourselves of the past, and of those that told us how to live all this time to carry out what they wanted.  These incubators are the basis of our purity. Furthermore, to centralise ourselves, we have kept the heretical silver orb you referred to within this room. Its presence is, to remind us of the dangers the blessing faces from those who seek to stop us, to stop the final victory.  Now I must leave you briefly. There are matters that need attending to decide whether to offer this to your companion as well. I shall return momentarily. Feel free to look around, however there are some restrictions as I am sure you must understand. Any guards will instruct you on the particulars.”

    Incu-whats?

    Throwing the question away, I nodded, beginning to feel a little bit more at ease with all this.  The slave in me was happy to follow instructions, especially if they helped the more free part of my mind do what it wanted to!  Watching the ghoul sweep away in his fancy robes, I immediately turned to the shrine they had built. The two guards stood unmoving. Wait, were they pegasi!?

    They were!  I could see the rotted wings drooped at their sides.  These ghouls, they didn't care for it!

    A part of me almost broke down.  Here was a place that truly didn't care and it was one place that I could never settle in. Their environment would kill me within the hour.  I could feel my limbs beginning to shake and my skin itch already.

    I couldn't wait around. Time to go in there and see about snatching that orb!  I trotted forward, only to find those rotten ghoul wings snapping into a cross before me. Their voices cut in across one another.

    “Halt!”

    “You may enter, but know this!”

    “The unconverted within—”

    “—may not leave!”

    I leapt back, staggering on my hooves before realising they weren't attacking me.  Suppressing the urge to let my envy of moveable wings get the better of me, I trotted back up.  I nodded to them. Fine, I wouldn't bring whoever was in there they considered to be unconverted or whatever back out. I wasn’t interfering with their prisoners. I was only interested in the sphere!

    The wings descended as I trotted through, hearing my hooves making sharper taps on the marble flooring.  This place was so clean. I'd never seen anything so smooth in my life. My eyes fell upon a curious doorway at the back. It was enormous, some sort of powered industrial seal that took up most of the wall.

    In fact, perhaps this room wasn't so beautiful after all.  Freaky pods, a stored megaspell, and a strange door under the guard of ghoul pegasi?  Something was amiss.

    I desperately wanted to take my RadAway, but I had a horrible feeling the ghouls wouldn't appreciate it in their more sacred place.  No, something was definitely not right here.

    I found it the moment I looked in one of the pods.

    And saw her.

    A little filly.  She lay in a small curled up ball, crying quietly into her front hooves.  Barely more than six or seven years old.

    A ghoul.

    I almost screamed at the thought.  A foal? She was just a foal? Did the balefire have no mercy!?  Even as my hooves clunked on the clear glass of the incubator to look in, I saw her stir and turn while I found the urge to break down on the spot.

    “No...I don't want to stay here.  I want to go home...”

    Her voice was corrupted.  What once would have been a high-pitched and cute was just like any other ghoul, only so much more tiny and tragic.  I couldn't help it as I felt my eyes become wet. Her tiny hooves hopped up onto the inside of the glass opposite mine as she saw I wasn't one of 'them.'

    “I...you...” I tried to form the words.

    “Can you take me home?  I want to go home!”

    Suddenly, it all made sense.

    Protégé had been hunting for a filly of Red Eye's that had gone missing.  The ghouls claimed radiation was their purifying blessing. They had talked of 'converting' those with the gift.  Then the last piece of the puzzle...these pods.

    My blood ran cold.  I backed away from the pod slowly as I saw the ghoul filly tapping the glass, her remaining hair from her mane flopping to and fro.

    They were making ponies into ghouls!

    They had made Starshine Mel...oh Goddesses...no.

    My mind ran amok.  I wanted to throw up. To corrupt healthy ponies into this, how many of them had been forced through this?  How many had been simply killed by whatever these pods did? There was too much wrong here. Children didn't deserve such horror. If Red Eye and I shared one thing, it was this.

    “S-Starshine Melody?”

    “That's me!  That's me! Please, mister!  I want to go hoooome!”
   
    The last line was wailed at a high pitch that rasped and broke in equal measures.  The filly was being traumatised by her own speech changing as much as her body having been ruined.  I had to get her out of here.

    “I...I'll try Melody, I have a friend, he'll get you out, okay?  Just, uh, please don't cry, it'll be fine. Protégé, you know him?  He's looking too.”

    'Don't cry'. Yeah, that advice was just fantastic coming from me.  Her eyes lit up at the mention of Protégé. Was he known to the foals?  I cast my eyes around for anything to help. That silver sphere still sat there, while I could hear strange noises from behind the barrier.  I'd heard them before, behind the oaken door in Weathervane's home. Feral ghoul ponies. Lots of feral ghoul ponies. For a second I didn't understand, before it became obvious.  The ghouls here were capturing them, or putting the ones they’d turned into a containment room for use in their eventual war.

    How many ghouls did they have locked away in there, ready to surge across Red Eye's operations from within?  This entire thing was messed up and confusing as to what had driven ponies to act like this. They were forcibly contaminating, killing, and degrading ponies into these things!  I had to tell Protégé. If they got loose then so many slaves could die.

    “Little Murk.  I see you have met our latest convert and accepted our offer yourself.”

    I swerved to face the Magister.  He stood resplendent in his robes, flanked by the two guards as they marched in.  I trotted toward them. I needed out to get Brimstone Blitz, but stopped as I realised, they weren't just standing in the entrance, they were blocking it.

    “What have you done to her?”

    My question was not as confident as it sounded beside the anguish I felt at the foal's life being ruined by these fanatics!  I felt my voice break as I tried to articulate it all into voice.

    “She has been saved.  Joining our—”

    “She's just a foal!  I-I've seen enough, I want out.  I need to talk to my—”

    “Did the guards not tell you, Murk?  You may enter, but the unconverted may not leave.”

    “But she's there, she's not...”

    I paused mid sentence as the reality began to dawn. They hadn't meant just her. They meant in general. 

They meant me too.

    I panicked, galloping suddenly to try and rush past them. The two guards, driven by pegasi agility to match my own, were not taxed to grab me and wrestle me back in with little effort.

    “Oh, I am sorry, Murk, if you did not realise.  But you must see this as the best solution. You hate Red Eye, that much I can see.  The bringer of the past shall fall to us and you shall help! Bless you, Murk! For we grant you a rare gift not seen in aeons since the great fire!”

    He raised his hooves in the air as he reared back, before looking down at me.

    “Slumber in the incubator, Murk. Immortality awaits.”

    “I don't want it.  I just want to see Brimstone.”

    Heartcare smirked, before nodding the guards forward.

    “You imply you have a choice.  Bless this poor pony, children.  He will see the truth eventually.”

    The guards lashed forward, grabbing my hooves and torso.  I struggled against their foul sickly bodies, screaming and thrashing as best I could.  Slowly, inexorably, I was pulled into the pod opposite Starshine Melody’s. I could see her wailing and hammering on the glass.  Despite my best efforts, the guards stuffed me in. There was only one other thing I could do. I took a deep breath.

    “BRIMSTONE, HELP!”

    The cry ended in a spluttered cough as I was bundled in and the pod shut while incapacitated.  Blood sprayed over my hooves from my mouth as I struggled to breathe.

    “Bless him!  Purge the corruption from this poor child's body!  In the name of the great zebra stripes, we commend him to purity!”

    The pod activated as I saw the three ghouls bobbing their heads, chanting and screaming verse in the zebra tongue.  A low-pitched whirring gave way to a pulsating hum, and the air became warm. The radiator-like machine beside me in the pod began to glow. A sickly incandescent lime green quickly filled my vision.  The throbbing of the pressure was making my head hurt. I thrashed around, kicking up the pillows and covers for more willing participants as my hooves battered the tough glass.

    My PipBuck suddenly wailed with a horrible mess of static as something in it reacted to the overwhelming levels of radiation, like a whirring, clicking, and squealing all combined.  The screen was trying to flash something. My entire body was warming up as I felt my inner chest cavity swelling, burning, convulsing. I couldn't see! The green had filled my vision and imprinted on my eyes that I couldn't even see the outside.  Only the cacophony of their chanting resounded in my head as the machine worked up a gear and I began to feel my very flesh burning. Vision swam as I collapsed.

    No. Becoming a ghoul...I didn't want it. I didn't want it! It would just make me a slave for all eternity!  A fate worse than my own even now!

    One last, desperate, idea formed, and I reached into my saddlebag for the mine I'd hidden in there.  I heard the Magister scream something as he saw it from outside. Briefly, I worried if this would just kill me, but matters were too desperate. Better dead than enslaved!  I slid the safety catch away and hoofed the pressure plate before jamming it into the radiator machine thing. I curled up with my back to it, pulling the sheets and pillow inside around me, for what good they would do. At least I'd stop them from using this ever again!

    I was a little disappointed when it didn't explode.

    I was very surprised when every single machine in the area started exploding instead!

    The mine hadn't blown up. Instead, it had whined and send a blue, arcing magical spark that enveloped the entire pod and gave me a shock that was more uncomfortable than truly painful, making my mane stand on end.  A whine from the machines grew louder until the generator the pod was attached to detonated with a sharp bang, sending shrapnel flying off my pod all around the room.

    The green glow died away as the power died and deactivated the lock. Taking the small chance, I put my shaky and weakened strength into pushing it off.  The Magister and guards were down, staggering around with wounds from flying machinery when I dropped to the ground, my vision swimming. Cables sparkled around the floor, and pods popped their lids with their generators discharging green magical energy in savage arcs. The mine had to have been some sort of anti-machine one, a happenstance I was enormously thankful for, or I’d likely have been diced within that pod.

    My body was weak.  All the flesh on one side of my body felt singed and tingly while my throat was swollen and half-wheezing on every breath.  Even as I staggered up I felt my stomach churn before throwing up next to the pod.

    Oh, that was a lot of blood...

    Pulling my goggles on against the smoke, I looked for Starshine Melody.  Almost falling from hoof to hoof, I dragged out my RadAway and set to sachet in my mouth before almost tripping rather than trotting toward the next pod.

    “Star—”

    I coughed again, spraying RadAway over the dead machine.  No, no! I couldn't waste any! Desperately hoofing the packet, I tried to rescue as much as I could while looking around.

    “Starshine!  Are...where are you?”

    The little filly was terrified, curled up near the edge and wailing in that raspy little ghoul voice.

    “Come on!  We're going home-ergh...”

    Her wet little eyes were quivering as she stopped and looked at me.

    “Are we?”

    “Yes!  On my back, quickly!”

    It wasn't fast enough. The guard was on me.  He was badly wounded, but managed to shove me over with sheer weight and howl in my face before trying to restrain me.  I felt a hoof slap the side of my head once. Twice. The third I felt being pulled back, before ceasing as the guard fell sideways from Starshine leaping onto his head and biting his ear.  Brave filly! She'd bought me a second, but what could I do? I had no weapon.

    Oh wait...yes I did!

    I reached below my stomach, grabbed it from my stash pocket, and with a sharp swing, swiped the metal ruler across the face of the ghoul.  With the sharp slap of impact, he cried out in agony, going down as it left a searing mark across both eyes and his snout. I felt elated and powerful. Never underestimate the metal ruler!  At least I knew he could regenerate. No guilt from this one!

    “Quickly, Starshine! Hop up!”

    I knelt down, trying to ignore my stomach clenching to cough as she clambered up.  Feeling her hooves around my neck, I was very glad for the high neckline I’d sewn into it, as I saw her wasted-away skin.  Staggering over, I grabbed the silver spell sphere, slid it into my saddlebag and tried to find my way to the exit in all the machinery's dying smoke plumes.  My entire body was failing, but I'd survived! I'd even knocked over a guard and was rescuing a foal! Was this what it felt like to be a hero like Littlepip?

    “Watch out!”

    Starshine's warning turned to a scream as I felt somepony grabbing her, trying to pull her off me.  The Magister had found us and was howling as he yanked at the poor kid.

    “You will not take my child! She is ours! THEY TOLD ME I NEEDED TO DO THIS!”

    I was weak.  I was a coward.  But I did not appreciate foals being harmed!  Stopping all resistance, I hopped backwards, raised my right back hoof, and shot it directly under the Magister to impact that little sweet spot that anypony could do harm to, no matter how weak they were!

    As it turned out, ghouls made very strange sounds when bucked in the happy sack.  I felt him writhe and fall off of Starshine before I kept moving for the door. Almost there...almost there. My energy was running low. I wasn't built for fighting.

    I stopped as a blaring alarm sounded in the room, causing me to stagger when my whirling senses were further impaired.  The noise was so loud it threw off the balance from my ears. I heard a shuddering clank behind me, and the great door began to rise. Its locking mechanism pinged and detached, its own powered seal breaking from the mine..

    “Get him!  Get him my purest of converts!  He seeks to take her from us!”

    A dozen green glowing eyes and organs illuminated from within began staring at me, more and more adding on the further the door rose.  With throaty roars they began to lurch forward, too many for me to quickly count. Foals, bucks, mares. Every one of them a feral nightmare.

    Oh...fudge.

    I found Brimstone in the main corridor smacking a ghoul into the wall so hard that they just seemed to crumple.  Clearly he had found and raided the armoury, for I saw multiple bent weapons all across the ground and a sack of anti-radiation fluid across his back.  Great! Just great!

    “Murk!  Who's the filly!?”

    I didn't even stop.  Racing by him I just kept going.

    “Run, Brim!”

    “The sphere—”

    “I've got it!  Just run!”

    “You-you got it?”

    I just screamed over my shoulder as I worked my little hooves as fast as they could go toward the exit.

    “BRIM, JUST RUN!”

    Brimstone snorted before turning and seeing what was following me.  His eyes went wide.

    “Oh...fuck!”

    We burst from the hidden doorway at top speed.  The moment I hit the looser earth, my speed slowed from the extra weight of Starshine on my back.  She was still squealing at the howling of the ghouls behind us, making me wince every time she screamed in my ears.  I felt myself go down, tripping in the loose earth until Brimstone threw her on his back instead. I could swear her scream was more at him.

    Pandemonium broke loose the moment the ghouls emerged.  Exploding forth like a tide of rotting zombie flesh, and galloping with uncanny ease across the dusty crater base, they quickly drew attention.  Slaves cried out, panic broke loose, and everypony in the immediate area fled in all directions. Those wooden 'shoes' were good for balance but terrible to gallop in.  All around us, I heard screams and shouts to the slavers on the wall for aid. Blood-curdling howls roared into the sky as the ghouls fell upon such a cluster of weak ponies.  Streaming through the ruined carcass of a few buildings, I saw slaves being run down by the horde as they fell to the ground. Agonised wails as they were bloodily ripped apart set my heart to clamp. Or perhaps that was the radiation doing that. Every step now, I could feel my lungs complaining.  My vision was darkening. I couldn't fall now, not now!

    Above us, I could hear screams for the guns on the smaller wall.  Slavers were running to and fro. Spotting the ghoul rush, I saw griffons dive from above.  Somewhere nearby, a slaver actually in the pit itself was trying to direct slaves toward a gate.  The voice was familiar. Was that Protégé?

    I wasn't given the time to think as a zombie spotted me, it's glowing eyes seethed as it brayed and galloped for me.  Screaming in return, I hopped on top of a wooden plank amongst the scrap, using it to give me purchase. I heard it thrashing in the earth, kicking up dirt in all directions as it ploughed toward me.  Gunfire was whizzing to all sides across the gap between juts of burned rock, cutting down ghouls and even slaves who were just in the wrong place. I saw the wounded ghouls still pulling themselves to the now lame, injured slaves.

    Without a thought, I galloped for that gap and dove aside as a burst of gunfire slapped with a dull noise into the earth, kicking up little plumes in my wake.  Maybe somepony would shoot it! Maybe! Brimstone had disappeared. Please, someone shoot it! The ghoul leapt, hooves extended as I cried out. With a horrific rip of flesh it landed on me, hooves scrambling at my body as blood splashed all over me.

    It fell limp. I didn't feel any new pain.

    The blood was coming from it's neck stump, a sniper's bullet had blown it clean off.  Above me, I saw a griffon throw me an obscene gesture. It was Ragini!

    Some of the cult had stormed outside. Fire was exchanged with the griffons above as zebra war cries emitted mixed with staccato gunfire.  Ragini swerved in the air, gliding off behind buildings as I heard that voice again. It was Protégé!  I could see him through the gaps, leading guards down into the crater itself to form a cordon against the oncoming horde. There must have been dozens of Heartcare’s ghouls swarming up now!  I saw him directing the guards with gestures of his hoof as his revolver slapped rounds at the oncoming cult and forced them into cover. Amongst the shattered ruin of the crater, a confusing, brutal and terrible firefight was mixed in with a desperate and unarmed rush of ponies escaping howling ferals. Yet Protégé cried out, directing slavers to cut down those attacking groups of slaves, while waving above him. The griffons, led by Ragini, responded. They flew overhead at speed, landing atop a cage of rebar behind the cultists themselves, flanking and pouring fire into them.

I wanted to run to Protégé, benefit from his clear orders to help everypony get out of here in one piece, but everything was too chaotic.  Ghouls were now mixed in with slaves fighting for their lives around me while griffons weaved through buildings, dropping grenades on large concentrations of the horrors.  The kick of the explosives blew earth across everything. Bewildered, sick, dizzy, and tired, I found myself lost amidst it all.

    I ran, I needed to find somewhere safe, to get out of the crater.  But my hooves were like lead, slowing me down and becoming clumsy. Even taking a second to sit on some wood for a breath in safety led to the entire thing cracking beneath me and plunging me down the slope once again.  The noise was absolute, nothing standing out but for the screams of the slaves caught and torn up. Beside me I saw a dead—

    It wasn't dead!

    The ghoul had been blown in half by the grenades, but continued crawling toward me, it's distended tongue lolling out to the side.  Unearthly noises hemorrhaged from its throat as it pulled itself after the ever-slowing escape I made. I tried to throw rocks. It didn't care.  I swiped my ruler at it and just got it covered in icky goo before having to roll to dodge it. It just didn't care!

    Brimstone's hoof made it care.

    After wiping the mucus from his hoof on the now sand-like dirt, he cast his head around.

    “Hope you appreciate it, squirt.  Just happened to be in my way.”

    I nodded, before screaming. I saw a magically flung rock crack off of Brimstone's forehead.  Stunned, the raider staggered before turning to the new threat as. Through all the dust and swirling battle, I saw the Magister advance on us, his magical energy weapon pointed directly at Brimstone.

    “You two ruined everything!  You desecrated our most blessed artefacts!  Now you draw us early into the fire of battle!”

    He wasn't joking. Battle. That word felt right as I saw a griffon land on the ground from an injured wing and immediately grapple with a ghoul. She was forced down until, amazingly, a slave of all ponies smashed it over the head with an iron pipe.  I could hear Protégé nearby, the loud report of his revolver distinct from every other source of gunfire going on. The Magister was wounded. A bullet, probably from a griffon, had lodged messily in his side. All the same, his eyes were locked on Brimstone as the immediate threat.  Even the big raider couldn't cross this distance and Protégé was still far off. The pistol pointed at me quickly too as I squeaked in terror.

    “The zebras gave us this world! Those below, they told us! Why do you deny it!?”

    Brimstone snarled and made to charge as the pistol jerked his way again, making him stall.  I could see the frustration on his face.

    “Now you'll die. You will never see the world they told me I had to make, Murk.  Not as long as you live. I offered you immortality. As for you, raider, you killed my children. You destroyed our homes in your rampage.  But you consistently make one mistake. Allow me to teach you a lesson...”

    Brimstone lowered his head, growling. “And what's that, rot?”

    “Never bring hooves to a gunfight.”

    With a smirk, the Magister aimed at his head and pulled the trigger.

    It clicked.

    The silence lasted only a second before the Magister registered the misfire.  Panic set in on his face as he pulled the trigger again...and again.

    Through my fading consciousness, I couldn't resist a smirk as I reached into my saddlebag and drew his spark battery between my teeth, grinning as widely as I could around it.

    “And you should never let a thief hold your gun.”

    The (oh so very satisfying) look of surprise on his face lasted only long enough for abject horror set in when Brimstone grinned and stomped the ground with both hooves, ready for a brawl.  The big raider actually grinned at me.

    “Nice work, kid. So, rot, what was that about a fight you wanted?”

    To his credit, the Magister didn't even hesitate before fleeing immediately.  Roaring and chasing him for only a few feet, Brimstone made sure he was gone. Starshine had fallen from his back, standing beside me.

    “Thank you, mister.”

    “Think, uh...I— oh...”

    My vision swam.  In the aftermath of the confrontation, I felt reality slam home.  This...this wasn't good...

    The coughing began, I felt blood curdle in my gut, lungs, and throat.  No, I was so close. I'd won! I couldn't...not now. But it wouldn't stop. I couldn't breathe.  I tried to move, but the loose earth didn't even let me drag my hooves correctly as my balance fell from under me.  I fell to my knees, feeling Starshine shaking me with her little hooves and shouting off to the side. Through hazy vision, I staggered and convulsed, only briefly seeing Brimstone running back to me.

    “Murk?”

    I didn't reply. I couldn't open my eyes, I could feel blood spraying from my mouth.  I threw up. I couldn't take air...oh Goddesses...

    I collapsed.  Unable to breathe at all.  Oxygen deprived, I felt myself going into shock as I spasmed with the failed effort to take in air.  Only a vague muddy sense of hearing even heard Starshine scream as she shook me, or Brimstone bellowing.

    “Murk!”

    Something shook me before I just went numb, and let it overcome me as my lungs burned up and clogged.  I finally gave up as the radiation finally won out.

    “MURK!”

    I dreamed… or I thought I did.

    I could barely move. My limbs were heavy and felt restricted.  Like I was locked in a cloying blanket. What could I see? Nothing. I could see nothing but a small light.  Wait, that was something. Nothing made sense, what way was up?

    My head hurt as I felt like I was drowning. My hooves reached out but found no purchase.

    But they did. I felt somepony grab hold and pull me, and I saw the shape of...of somepony pulling me along.  Wait...I was going forward, was I running? What was I running to? Or from? I just...it was all too hazy.

    Like running through liquid, I felt myself being pulled as a bright flare lit her. Was it a her?  Was that Littlepip? I fell, as we separated. I fell, upward through water.

    Even as I broke the surface, I woke.

    My everything ached.

    “Well well. Finally, you're back with us.”

    The raspy voice caused me to twitch and spasm, to throw myself around as the bed's blanket caught and twisted with me.

    “Fucking calm it!  Hold still.”

    Oh. Swearing.  Weathervane, not Heartcare.

    The ghoul was looking over me in a somewhat musty bed. This was the hospital, but not his own little area.  No, this was one of the wards I had seen. I tried to look, but the motion made my lungs twist and my stomach heave.

    “Careful,” he muttered as I threw up into a convenient bucket.  It was strangely orange. Had I just been drowned in RadAway?

    “You're lucky to be alive, you crazy little bloody idiot.  You'll be fine in a few hours, once the medication has time to work, magic is handy like that.  But you may take a little while to quite feel one hundred percent. Your temperature has gone down by about a fifth of the way to normal since that rad-fever.  Yeah. Lucky. Fucking lucky.”

    “How...how did I get here?”

    The medical ghoul looked a little surprised, before chortling.

    “Didn't you realise?  Brimstone brought you here.”

    “Brimstone?”

    “Oh yes. Galloped the whole way with both you and that foal on his back.  Broke down the doors to the hospital, gave the guard a concussion, sought me out, and promptly declared that if I didn't save your life, and I quote, 'right fucking now', he would do something. That 'something' he mentioned, I can assure you as a medical expert, is quite anatomically impossible.  However, I got the feeling he was about to try anyway.”

    “Brimstone did that?  For me? But...”

    “He didn't tell me what it was you did to change his view, but I did hear him saying something about what 'she' would want him to do.  Oh, and by the way, he told me if I informed you it was him, he'd crush my skull. So don't tell him, alright? Or I'll find a way to give you every fucking injection I can think of in your rump.  Besides, there's somepony else who wants to see you.”

    He trotted off after tapping a RadAway to my chest.

    “Wait, Weathervane!  The RadPurge, did—”

    Weathervane didn't answer.  Instead, the newcomer did as he trotted in to my shock.

    “Glimmerlight is, last I heard, recovering,” said Protégé calmly, trotting amiably into the ward and pausing in the entrance. “Brimstone apparently left for her the moment he dropped you here.  Rather literally, so I am told.”

    I squeaked.  My master was here, I wasn't in my cell!  

“How...I...oh no…”

Protégé held up a hoof to quiet me.

    “Now, I'm not even going to pretend I'm not disappointed that you felt you had to escape me, Murk.  I like to think I am a kind pony. As such, I was prepared to punish you as befits how I run things.  I dislike workers attempting to escape me, to escape their duty to Equestria.”

    He trotted closer to my bed, magic fixing the blankets over me to not be as messed up.  An odd move while talking of punishment.

    “But it seems I am inclined to drop it and not even ask how you got out.  I know my own building, so I am sure I can guess how. I trust it will not happen again.  But no, my punishment is stayed only by that you have inadvertently done me a great service, Murk.  We turned back the tide, but you saved one of Master Red Eye's foals. Starshine Melody has been returned to him.  Master Red Eye was quite delighted, if saddened by her...condition.”

    I nodded, trying not to allow a relieved smile on my face that Melody had in her own obtuse way, saved me from Protégé.

    “Is she alright, master?”

    “It is sad to say the condition is, as we know, non-reversible.  She will not grow properly. However, Master Red Eye is kind. He has still granted her a home under him.  Melody will be safe. As for the ghouls, those who did not charge out were exterminated.”

    My jaw dropped. “Wait. All of them? But there was—”

    “A small army, yes. Master Red Eye sent his alicorns on a personal mission.  The deterrent is now clear for all to see. The foals are off limits to harm and any who dare do so will not go without vengeance for their assault upon the children of the new world.  They or their leader shall not be harming anypony else, Murk.”

    “I-I guess that's good.”

Protégé nodded slowly, patting the bed, taking off his eyepiece for a moment.   

    “Yes, Murk.  I am told you went to great risk, so I feel that I owe you thanks. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found her down there.  While the fact that you did so goes against every rule I have, I am also grateful for you helping save Glimmerlight. She is a good worker, a good pony, and my own efforts to requisition the RadPurge had failed.”

    He smiled at me, leading me to feel an odd surge of pride that my master was genuinely pleased at my efforts.  It made everything feel worth it and—

    No, that wasn't right.  I didn't do it for him. I did it for those on my side.  Part of me liked Protégé's appreciation more than it should, but it still felt like a betrayal of my freedom.  It would take me a little time to properly kill off that part of my mind. But for now, yes, I could still do it.

    “Now rest up, Murk.  I will see you returned tonight.  Then you must rest more.”

    “Forgive me, master, but why?”

    Protégé turned and trotted off, turning his head.

    “Your first day of work under me, of course.  We have an objective. On the hills outside Fillydelphia. We found one.”

    I felt my body clench up as it ached terribly.  Fear made me tremble.

    “You mean a...you-you found a...”

    “Yes, Murk.  We found a Stable.”

Footnote: Perk Attained!

    Sleight of Hoof (Rank 1) – Everypony better be careful what they have near you, for even those items they love the most may mysteriously disappear after that hoofshake they gave you!  You may now attempt to steal even while detected!