Fallout: Equestria - Murky Number Seven

by FuzzyVeeVee

Lighting the Darkness

    “What is it like to have confidence in yourself?”

    Well...confidence. That's where you're able to feel safe about your own decisions, isn't it?  Where you can look at yourself and feel happy about who you are regardless of what others think of you.  It's where you can find happiness, a sense of self worth, and understand that even if everything is against you...the path you chose is still the right one.

    I was struggling with it.

    Even in the wake of rescuing a foal, and rooting out a powerful and dangerous force that was poised to attack slaves and slavers alike, I didn't feel any more courageous.  Having saved the life of somepony precious to my companion, I had expected to feel some sense of bravery, but none came. I simply remembered all the ways that I had needed help, or messed things up.  How many times had tears trickled down my face in terror? How many times had I run away? How often had my ends been met or my life preserved only by the charity of others?

    I took the journey to help Brimstone save Glimmerlight not only to seek a way out on the only path I knew, but also to try and restore my own confidence to resist The Master's influence.  But in the end, all I found was that I would have died had it not been for the luck of Brimstone Blitz once again bailing me out. Alone, I would never have gotten as far as I had. That fact bit deep...if I couldn't do things all by myself, how could I ever hope to escape or help anypony else do so?  What use was I to the mare or her buck if I couldn't even help my own sorry hide?

    Brave ponies were supposed to be able to do it all on their own, weren’t they?

    If felt that if I were confident, perhaps I'd not hide my wings. If felt that if I were brave, I’d not stammer just at conversation.

    Not to mention that every time I thought of going back to the Mall, to be within reach of The Master...My Master, I felt nothing but a chilly panic.  I knew that I would do anything he asked of me. Would a confident pony feel that way? I'd bet not.

    There were a dozen things really.  From being worried about what others thought of my wings, to my instinctual loyalty to The Master, to even the embarrassment of people seeing my more personal drawings.  Really, would a confident pony feel any of that? I didn’t think so.

    Nothing, not even that, could overcome the slave in my mind that still knew its place was by The Master's side.  By Protégé's side. Under the heel of Master Red Eye. To be the loyal slave of Fillydelphia.

    I was fighting a losing battle, trying to be like I thought brave ponies were. That you had to deal with it yourself, or you weren’t brave. In some ways, I missed the clues I’d already been given by others as to what I was lacking.

    But when I looked at others, I always wondered, where does their confidence come from? What made them feel good about themselves when they didn’t feel it inside?

    Whatever it was...it was something I knew I badly needed.

    Finally, mercifully, I could rest.

    Protégé had given me a few hours free to recover in the hospital ward while the healing potions and RadAway worked their (rather literal) magic on my body.  Apparently, being involved in rescuing one of Red Eye's foals was enough to have gotten me on the 'protected slave' list for treatment.

    Yet, as I stared across the bed at my fourth RadAway sachet in under an hour, I reflected that this, perhaps, wasn't the best outcome in the world.  For every three I drank, one seemed to come back up. I had complained (not whined) at length to Doctor Weathervane about my fears of my body beginning to reject RadAway.  Eventually he had called me a 'little fucking earache' and hit me on the head with his clipboard till I agreed that I was talking nonsense.

    Even so...looking at the sachet only reminded me of how I'd have to get used to the taste.  I'd be living with it for the rest of my life in this city now.

    Curling up in the thin satin blanket, I felt myself shivering as the sounds of the hospital washed around my peripheral hearing.  I had to keep myself from thinking on that. The condemnation to an incurable illness that would affect me every single day. How did you get over such a thing?

    I couldn't.  But to avoid myself falling into a pit of despair I pulled across my journal and started flicking through it.  Carefully, I searched backwards until I found the last one I remembered. My eyes only briefly fell on the large volume of pages I had drawn upon during my early days in Fillydelphia and before.  No...I didn't ever want to see them. I'd forgotten what was on them and reminding myself could never be good.

    I'd thought that a chance to calm down, leaf through sketches, and think for myself might help.  It might settle things, allowing me to calm down and rest properly.

    It didn't.

    If I'd thought ahead, I'd have realised I was making a mistake.  Not since the Pit had I had a proper chance to reflect, to simply think and realise how much my life had changed in just a few days.  From those original hours of awakening to realise I didn't have to be a slave, through the desperate attempts to stay alive and escape Fillydelphia, meeting The Master and the mysterious intentions of Protégé, fighting alongside a raider warlord against ghouls and breaking rules left, right, and centre to do as I needed.  I had been shot! I could still see the scar if I lifted up my blanket and—

    Oh...oh Goddesses...I really was thin there.  My stomach gurgled and ached in response. Low energy levels were making me shiver all over. How had I gone this long?

    So many eventful incidents; more activity in those few days than in over a decade of slavery.  What was I supposed to worry about? The Master? My illness? Escaping? Protégé? Barb's demands? Or was it even just that I hadn't seen the mare since?  Did she know I was alive?

    So many threads...so many things all at once with no chance to digest it.  With no hope to digest it. Even drawing was still new and eventful to me. I wished I had somepony I could find comfort in, but there was no one.  The DJ couldn't hear me, the mare and Littlepip were gone, and Brimstone wouldn't care. I couldn't do this by myself...but I was alone. Alone and lonely.  How could I deal...deal...

    I...

    I couldn't.

    I pulled the blanket over me, feeling the emotion all welling up, too much of it with no outlet.  I couldn't draw, and nothing was on the radio. Burying myself within the musty satin, I just curled up and prayed that by the time I had to come out it would all be better.

    Even Doctor Weathervane's foul attitude couldn't push itself hard enough to insult me in the state he found me in.  I heard him trot in and sigh as he saw me, a quivering little shape under the covers, with damp stains near where my head was.  He stood quietly, as though unsure how to approach this. Eventually, I heard a second, more reluctant sigh as he shook the bed with a hoof.

    “We've got incoming wounded from the flamer fuel vat teams.  Bloody unsafe walkways, no Luna-damned consideration at all. We'll need the bed in ten minutes.  Saving lives and all that shit, you understand?”

    He must have seen a section of the blanket shift, as I nodded under it and sniffed.  Silently, I thanked him for allowing the ten minutes. Right now, it felt like another eternity to pretend nothing was wrong.  That when I came out I'd find a nice repaired Fillydelphia, Sundial and Skydancer waiting to be friends in the lobby, clean floors to trot on and fresh air to breathe...

    Screams and wails of agony came from down the hallway.  I heard them. I tried to block them out. They didn't exist outside my fantasy.  No...I'd wake up and everything would be fine. Under the blanket it was all safe.

    Even as I heard the burn victims approaching and the shout from Weathervane for all non-critical patients to vacate, I tried to just pretend it wasn't there. Another ten seconds was a long time, right?  But I just couldn't stop shivering, even as I felt myself compelled to obey him, to crawl out from under the blanket and begin the long trot back to the Mall. To go back out into the crimson hell I was still a part of in the bleak and harsh industry of Fillydelphia.

    A hard leather-armoured earth pony of dull yellow awaited me outside.  As I trotted past with my head lowered, he spat out his cigarette and spoke up.

    “Yo, Number Seven.  The Master wants you to report to the flamer fuel factory, emergency replacement of slaves needed, sent me to catch you when you came out.”

    I trembled, trying not to collapse and cry out loud on the spot.  Why did I have to be the one who cried at everything? Why did The Master choose me?  He wasn't being fair! Why did I have to be the target of his attentions?

    “But...but I'm to go back to the Mall.  Protégé said—”

    “Fine, I'll go tell Shackles you refused then.”

    He turned to trot off without so much as a care in the world, coughing from either his own cigarette or the smog that drifted across from the copper mine refinery nearby.

    “No!  Wait! I...I'll do it...”

    “Good little slave, he knew he could...heh...rely on you.”

    The slaver gave me a sick grin and trotted off toward the Mall, while I turned to get right back to the daily grind of being a slave.

    My back was aching.

    The Master's post was not a fun one.  Well, when were they ever? But this one was worse than most.  Set within the giant refinery for Master Red Eye's ambitions for flamethrower fuel, I was given the task of trudging various mixes of chemicals around slung over my back, only having just enough time to hide my PipBuck in my saddlebag.  The buckets either side of my body probably each weighed as much as I did, making it a slow and back-breaking effort to lug them to each of the giant vats. On arrival, I was to tip them in and hope that there was no refined fuel to take back.  If there wasn't, I was given the 'merciful minute' where the buckets were empty to walk back and get more. If not, it was an immediate refill and another long trudge to the storage tanks.

    But worst of all was the smell.  It cloyed and thickened the air with the sheer wealth of fumes and stenches to the point where it made anyone sick and dizzy.  Some slaves claimed you could get high on it, and I wouldn't be surprised. I'd seen more than my fair share of minor hallucinations already in the few times I'd been sent here. The noxious fumes got into your head in a bad way and made every sense feel stuffy.  It was in this very refinery that I'd gained my radsores, when I thought I'd seen my mother through the crowd, and ran to her. Tripping, I'd realised that it had just been a fuzzy-headed belief through my blurry vision. The upturned buckets had splashed me with chemicals, the burns quickly becoming irradiated and infected.  They'd never truly healed since; even after Doctor Weathervane's attentions I could feel them burning away on my legs and muzzle.

    I staggered up the scaffold walkway to reach the unicorns stirring the fuel vats through massive telekinetically-controlled rods.  Around me, earth ponies tipped the buckets in gradually and tried their best not to fall in. The fuel itself wasn't lethal...but being covered in a highly flammable (or inflammable, what was the difference anyway?  Oh why couldn't I be wordy like Protégé?) substance left you a susceptible target for any spark in the area. Being Fillydelphia, there were quite a few. Frankly, it was a miracle this entire place hadn't gone up at some point.  Even as I poured my buckets in, I noticed the section of collapsed walkway that had caused the accident drawing me in to fill the workload. There were no barriers on it.

    Just...just...WHY?

    Seriously, were pre-war ponies just really dumb or utterly uncaring for simple ergo...ergono...practical ideas!?  I almost wanted to stop and rant on the spot as I felt the annoyance that some idiot two hundred years ago had made the stupid decision to save a little cash by not placing on a railing, thus landing me a horrible job today!  Only the presence of a (thoroughly high-looking) slave overseer nearby kept my mouth shut and my head down. I'd already received a clip around the ear for not meeting quotas in the past three hours.

    Stomping my frustration on the badly constructed walkways out (not perhaps the wisest course of action), I tried to think.  It wasn’t entirely easy when the fumes were giving me a headache, but I needed something nice, and right now all I could think of was the mare.  I wouldn't be able to hear the radio over the ambience in here, so I let my thoughts drift to her instead. I hadn't really had a chance to think about her properly yet.  Just what was her name anyway? What was her cutie mark? Goddesses...had I even missed that when I saw her?

    But somehow I just couldn't quite get a grasp of her.  She was kind, and, well, I felt safe speaking to her. But it was just the way she...argh. It was like she understood me.  Understood my problems, and genuinely wanted to help me. I felt relaxed, more comfortable in my own skin when I had spoken to her.  Was she just a natural at helping others? She was the only pony I truly trusted in this entire city, probably more than I should given how long I had known her.  There were so many questions I wanted to ask her. My mysterious mare.

    The gurgling of the thick gel-like chemical as it slopped out of the bucket only reminded me of the groaning of my own stomach as the hours stretched on.  Move, collect, stumble, carry, pour, and repeat. I watched another slave try to make a dash for his fallen bucket before a slaver saw him and sent his whip flying with magic to catch the fleeing target.  Squeals from ponies being scalded by chemicals mixed with the hiss of pressure cookers preparing the thick gel. I couldn't ever remember looking forward to going back to my pen, but the prospect of being near Brimstone again at least gave me something to look forward to.  In the past I had just wandered and done the job as I was asked...but now that I had a sense of wishing to be out of here, I could swear the day lasted longer. Was it day? I never could tell any more, my head was too messed up from fumes...

    With a strained heave, I turned to tip the other bucket while glancing around.  My mind was drifting too much in the heavy air, thinking of what had happened, and what was to come.  I just wanted to be below that blanket in the hospital again...not have to deal with any of this. But try as I might, I knew I would have to return.  For one, Protégé or...he...would come looking for me, but on the other I was simply obeying, even if it meant facing my worst fear soon.

    The past.

    I cried at skeletons; I was terrified of disturbing them from their places of passing, froze up as though paralysed when I saw them, and worst of all...drove myself into manic fits as my mind pieced together their last moments.  It was like some spirit had always left just enough clues...or was I just observant of the past? I really really wished I wasn't.  After all, I knew my next destination would test my courage to the full extent.  A Stable.

    Crafted in the days before the balefire, they were shelters of great depth and fortitude to keep ponies safe underground for a few generations, until the world outside was safe again.  That thought alone made me nearly drop my bucket. What would it have been like to live in a world where things were so grim, so dire, that ponies genuinely put thought and application into those things?  What was it like for Sundial, knowing his world was approaching the end? Now I would have to visit one. What if it was the one he should have been at?  Would I find his family’s skeletons?  His father? Skydancer? The sealed and preserved Stable could mean anything from a dead tomb to a thriving and passionate defence by their descendants.  Behind those great doors, closed and locked, lay a gateway into the past. They represented everything about the end of Equestria. Built by desperation and designed by fear, they were eternal icons of where we had come from. Often literally. A great many of the ponies in the wastes today were descendants of Stable survivors.

    They had brought horrid tales of Stables not designed properly, or being the recipient of dangerous experimental concepts meant to help ponies.  In reality, they had made life a nightmare or had destroyed it entirely. These days, unopened Stables were a most unusual find. But dead Stables, filled with the legacy of misguided ideas, lay open for all to see the mistakes of times long gone.

    Why was I so afraid of the past, anyway?  It was all gone, long gone times couldn't harm me, and it couldn't affect my life other than the modern use of its secrets.  But it wasn't just relics...I couldn't even face my own past, like my journal. Why did I avoid those early sketches? Well, I knew why, but what drove that fear?  Was I just afraid of looking back?  Terrified that if I did, I'd fall under the weight, the realisation of what was behind me and driving me to stay and work as a slave?  That must be it...I just simply couldn't bear to contemplate such a life.

    The unicorn turned and directed me to the nozzle at the bottom, breaking me from my thoughts. My heart sank; no merciful minute for me on this journey. As I stood beside the tap and bucked the heavy latch, I glanced around me.  I saw slaves on their last legs, sometimes literally, walking beside the fresh new starts with fear in their eyes. Those looks would turn to wearisome acceptance after a few days. They always did. I saw the more 'experienced' slaves looking like they were eager to simply keel over any day now from the poison in their blood.  They didn't worry for the past...many of them had forgotten it in order to not go insane from losing all they had. Once, when I had first come here, the sight of them had made me cry, but it was too normal in my life now to even affect me. But, how I longed just for a random meeting, a small chance to feel I knew some of them, like if I turned my head and just saw...saw...

    She was there, right across the refinery work floor, her cream and orange distinction just drifting between the slaves, exactly the way she had looked when last I saw her.  Finally, something good from my past, even if it was just a...a day?  How long had it been since I saw her?  

I shook the question from my head as I saw where she was trottiung, the mare was leaving!  I quickly turned to the nozzle and saw my first bucket was only close to filling. Come on, they were watching me. If I just left it, I'd be brought down.  Come on, fill faster! She was heading for the exit already!

    Watching the bucket and her as much as I could simultaneously (and wishing my eyes could look both ways), I swung around to let the other one fill.  Pining over my shoulder, I watched as she disappeared amongst a crowd of the new-starts. I only caught glimpses of that brilliant orange and red mane between them.  Impatiently glancing at the second bucket, I saw it was three quarters full, it was enough!

    I bucked it closed and ran as fast as I could for her.  The fuel sloshed about in the buckets as I took as direct a route as I could. She was already about to go past the side doors and leave the gateway!  Ducking around other slaves and ignoring a random shout (was that a slaver?), I nearly forced the new shift out of the way to clamber through the small gaps.  Splashes of fuel dripped all around my progress as I tried to follow the the occasional sight of her bright mane. I screamed her name. Wait...no, I just screamed...something.  I didn't know her name!

    Eventually, it came to me.

    “I'm alive!  Hey! HEY! Somepony saved me!  I'm still alive!”

    Her head didn't turn, she hadn't heard.  Damn, just a bit further! A bit further and—

    Little weak pegasi with broken wings don't gallop too well with buckets carrying unbalanced amounts of fuel in each of them.  With a slip and a horrible lurch I felt my entire balance shift right, spraying the contents everywhere as I clattered to the ground.  I was stuck, suspended on one side with my hooves in the air around the weight of the large buckets. Kicking and wriggling, I fought for the latch while trying to avoid the foul chemical spilling on the ground.  Landing on my hooves (for once...) I made to gallop after her. I ran past the side doors and directly out into the yard, she had only been a few feet away, she was...she was...

    ...gone.

    But...but she couldn't have just disappeared!  It was open ground out here and there were no crowds!  I stood in the gaping maw that led into the crowded refinery, staring in all directions as the long expanse of the yard swallowed my small presence, alone outside.  Even with my hearing, I felt all sound muffle down as I realised the truth and lowered my head. A few teardrops dripped onto the ground. Why...

    “Hey!  Who in the bloody wasteland spilled this?  Was that the little one running?”

    Even without looking up I could feel all of them who recognised me as the pegasus point with their hooves.  When the demand for confirmation came in a raspy voice from behind a wrapped scarf against the fumes, I couldn't even help but turn and nod, while listening to the sound of a whip being magically drawn and raised.

    Maybe that was why I hated the past. Even the good parts of my own history were always taken from me, or never even there to begin with.

    By the time I finally trudged back to the Mall, I was very late. The guards obediently allowed me through the well-defended entrance, chuckling as they witnessed my rather pathetic efforts to reach and push the emergency bars.  They were attached to what had once acted as a turntable door before the balefire. I suspected they would have been automatic on some gears below the ground. Now, they acted as a simple barrier that took ponies a few seconds to push in and out of in clear view of the guards.  Straining and pushing from my hind legs, I felt my back ripple with both dull muscular pains and the harsher, sharper stings of whip scars until, somewhat unexpectedly, the gate popped open.

    Caught by surprise, I squeaked and fell forward, landing on my chin on the inside with my hind legs in the air.  As if being stuck in the dirt yesterday wasn't bad enough. At the very least, I felt better at the plans I’d overheard to remove them entirely soon enough for metal salvage.  Groaning and rubbing my chin, I stood up and, rather without warning, came eye to eye (well, almost) with Protégé.

    He didn't look entirely pleased.

    “You know, Murk, I had begun to wonder how much I could trust you.  To some extent I still do...but arriving four hours late and neglecting a direct request?  You do realise any work leader less understanding than I would have you killed?”

    “I...”

    I was just too tired to even explain...besides, it wasn't the slave's duty to make excuses.

    “I'm sorry, master...it won't happen again.”

    “Why were you late?”

    His voice cut hard.  I'd come to think of him as somepony that, even if I couldn't bring myself to like, I could at least expect a level of care and understanding from.  I felt ashamed to have let him down. But that was the hard part. He wasn't angry, just disappointed. Somehow, the slave in my mind found that all the more hurtful.

    “When I came out of the hospital, I was told—”

    I quickly shut up.  My mind remembered The Master's warning, was this part of his 'games' with me?  Would saying it result in the mare being harmed? I couldn't risk it...

    “I mean, I thought I was told to go and work in the fuel refinery. I...I just misheard...it's my fault...”

    Protégé merely sighed, trotting around me as the guards opened the gates for him.  He moved with that certain poise and dignity I had come to expect from him.

    “I am due to meet with Master Red Eye for a report on the rewards of the Stable.  Please, return to the shop levels and remain there. The worker wagons will arrive within the hour to begin transport.  If I am not back, as is likely, Chainlink Shackles will organise the embarkation.”

    Stopping, he glanced around at me as I sat down, feeling the weight of The Master's ploy hitting home.  Why did I feel guilty at disappointing him!? Protégé was my slave master! Once again, I began to wonder if he truly cared or if this was all some devious ploy to build loyalty from his slaves.

    “I don't want to have to consider you unreliable, Murk.  Please, I ask of you, do not prove my confidence in you wrong...”

    Tapping the side of his eyepiece before heading outside, the unicorn made his way into the ruined streets.  Presumably leaping from the roof, I saw an ever watchful Ragini join him. For all her rudeness to me, she sure was a very good bodyguard.  But, as I took a shaky breath and limped back to my cell, I couldn't help but run Protégé's words through my thoughts again and again. Even as I watched him stride into the harsh landscape of Fillydelphia to receive the objectives that might just kill me soon, one question beat around my brain repeatedly.

    Why had it sounded like he was afraid of me failing him?

    “You took your time.”

    Brimstone's voice rumbled quietly from the dark corner as I flopped down onto the musty cardboard 'bed' in the shop cell.  I felt a dampness from a leaky pipe above squelch beneath me as the hard ground made my back ache. How had he honestly lived with this thing for so long?

    “Got called away...”

    “For what?  If you're on Stable duty you don't have to-”

    “I know.  I just...I don't know...it's just me being me...”

    Brimstone didn't seem to be appreciative of being interrupted, but hid his obvious annoyance behind a snort to simply turn away and look out of the cell at the raiders.  From the sounds of things, they'd found themselves a 'plaything' in one of the other slaves to shove around. I guessed the guards, despite their repulsiveness, wouldn't allow it to go too far, but the begging to be let go from their role as a stress reliever made me shiver all the same.  I sent a quiet prayer to the Goddesses for that poor slave, but right now I couldn't help them. That was the harsh reality of slave life in Fillydelphia when you're just a weak pony who can't help anypony, not even himself. I just wanted to lie down and rest, to forget about everything that had happened and try and forget about what was coming up in my life, too.

    Hating the past and afraid of the future, living only for the demands of the moment...wasn't that just the perfect description of a slave?

    Curling up, I tried to doze as best I could.  Left with little other manner to get rid of all this painful worry, it was all I could think of.  I didn't have the energy left to draw and my ears hurt too much to want the radio on. I knew Brimstone would look down on me for hiding away, but it was just too natural.

    Instead, he simply spoke without looking around.

    “If it helps how you feel, Glimmer will live. We did it.”

    Through the dark haze of my mood, my heart ignited. Of course!  In all my worry about The Master, Protégé, and the mare, I'd forgotten what we had accomplished was still to be discovered!  A new, apparently gentle and caring, pony! Glimmerlight! I couldn't hide the sudden enthusiasm from my voice, even as it broke on a fevered choke.  (Perhaps Barb was right to call me 'filly.' Oh Goddesses, why was my voice so shrill?)

    “So...she'll wake up?”

    “Aye.  Probably sometime soon, if not in a few minutes.  Fever's gone. The rot knows his stuff, I'll give the bastard that.”

    I couldn't quite lie still.  Glimmerlight was waking up! A new pony who I'd been promised was kind and didn't judge anypony!  She sounded like an older version of the mare so much that I couldn't quite suppress some genuine excitement about getting to meet her.  Indeed, I thought I even felt a smile coming on! She'd be so nice and polite, just like me, she wouldn't be all rude or dirty like everypony else.  Brimstone had said she wasn't!

    I heard movements in the back.  Noting my twitching ears, I saw Brimstone stand up expectantly.

    “Or perhaps even sooner...”

    Nerves finally kicked in.  How was I to meet her? What should I say?  I had a chance for somepony who wasn't nasty at last...what if I screwed up?  What if Brimstone had been exaggerating and she did have something against pegasi?

    I heard hooves approaching the door to the store front, staggering and light on the floor.

    Pacing from hoof to hoof I trotted on the spot.  Calm down Murky, calm down. It'll be fine. She'll come out and say hello and comment on how you're cute again!  Yeah...she'll be just like the mare, nice, calm and really polite and sweet and gentle—

    There was a sudden crash of shop stands being knocked over. Glimmerlight staggered through the doorway, trying to kick one off of her hind hoof, and almost collapsed onto the staff desk of the shop.  Recovering just enough to roll her weight onto it and stay upright, the pink and white mare sighed and rolled her eyes as she cast a look around. Her face screwed up as she facehoofed and groaned.

    “Celestia's great fucking mane, Brim...did I sleep with a glowing ghoul or just drink way too much of the Roamer’s special ale again?  Damn, my head hurts...”

    Blinking rapidly, she seemed to finally focus her sight and spot me standing beside Brimstone.  Almost slipping as her hooves skittered around, Glimmerlight beamed with a sudden and elated joy.

    “Aha!  So you weren't a hallucination brought on by the medicine!  How ya doin, big eyes!?”

    Glimmerlight seemed not to notice a lack of reply as she immediately floundered over to a small cracked mirror. Slapping her cheeks four times and sitting down, she then started pulling at her mane with a bent comb, before turning slightly toward Brim and myself.

    “Now...anypony here know any bucks or mares looking for a good time?  It's been almost a week I've been cooped up sick without any 'relief,' y'know?  I'm itchin' for a fixin' if’n you get me?”

    Chuckling softly to himself, Brimstone Blitz merely reached across and closed my mouth after its jaw had hit the floor.

    Glimmerlight was not how I had anticipated, that was for sure.  Where I had expected a quiet, polite, and kind mare, there now stood a (mostly upright) pony who seemed to be more concerned with how she had missed a 'rest day.' Her worry lay in that she had been sick through a time where alcohol had been provided from the Roamer bar outside the wall to the slaves.  That, apparently, was a rare event. True, I had only seen it once in my time in Fillydelphia.

    Not speaking, I just sat on the cardboard bed and watched this incredibly strange unicorn as she sorted her mane.  Magically levitating the scrap comb made of bobby pins and a block of tinder, she hummed an unknown tune to herself while occasionally asking Brim for news reports on the way things had been for some others whilst she was out.

    Only after a few seconds did I realise she was talking about ponies whose flanks she enjoyed watching whilst slaving away herself.  Was this truly the pony who had been so soft spoken to me while sick? Truth be told, I didn't know what to think of her. Booze, casual sex, and a self deprecating humour was a long way from the quiet, peaceful,and kind older version of the mare I had thought of.  Very quickly, I began to realise her lucid soft speech was just from her having been high on medication when I had last met her...

    Sitting quietly, however, I finally had a chance to properly study her.  Glimmerlight was definitely a bit older than me, probably within the last few years of being a young adult.  Perhaps...high twenties? Her body was just as thin and scrawny as most slaves, not to mention her sickness, but what caught my attention was her cutie mark.  Three small sparkling spheres, purple, pink, and light blue. Where had I seen them before? Part of my mind was sure I had.

    Flicking her mane about, Glimmerlight hopped on the spot before swivelling on a seemingly random urge to face me.

    “Right!  Mane fixed, sexiness restored, and the power of standing upright reacquired!  Now, it's time!”

    I  backed off, a little intimidated by the forward and supremely confident manner.  If she noticed, the unicorn didn't show as she trotted a little unsteadily around the store.

    “I...uh...” Why could I never just talk normally on first meetings?  “I...wait, time for what?”

    Glimmerlight rounded on me with a grin I was sure was about to leap off her face.  Her eyes seemed to light up and almost sparkle when she lowered her eyebrows and smiled like that.  I wondered how many bucks had fallen prey to that...look. Of course, she was a bit old for me, though.

    “Time for me to find out just who you are, Murky!”

    “I...”

    “No arguments!  Come on!”

    Well, that was that, an order.  Groaning at my still aching back, I struggled to my hooves and plodded after her own unsteady gait.  But, as I followed her into the back of the shop, I had a slight sense of worry. (Not just from Brimstone's dangerous look promising what would happen if he heard any trouble back there.) Thus far, she had dodged everything I had imagined about her. What in Equestria could I expect from her now when she wanted to get to know me?  How could I predict how she would react? What if she just rolled her eyes? Glimmerlight had been through just as much horror as I had at the whims of raiders, possibly more. Was this how she forgave? By not caring about anything but the simple pleasures in life?

    Glimmerlight led me to the sofa. She hopped up and made a dramatically extravagant flop onto it. Sighing happily, she shimmied up until she was sitting on one side, before motioning for me to sit on the other.  Clambering up with some difficulty, (why so high a seat? It's a sofa!) I meekly sat on the other side from her, naturally as far away as I could.

    What a strange sight, I thought. Under the dark environment, there was glowing and confident life of Glimmerlight on one side with the lantern; and the muddy-coloured little buck huddled up nervously on the other, far from the light.  She was beaming, those eyes staring unblinkingly at me with that little grin. Perhaps...perhaps this wasn't so bad after all. Just the pair of us alone, no danger, and just being able to talk in the quiet gloom of the storage room.

    The amber gem light flickered and weakened, casting an odd glow on her face.  Almost gasping, I saw an immediate change. Hard, tough, and weathered below the crazed exterior.  For all the bluster, I had a sudden memory reminding me of what this mare had been through in her life.  Suddenly, I didn't feel quite so comforted.

    “So, Murky...what's your story?”

    “Kinda long, really...I'm not sure it—”

    “Come on, we're slaves.  We have the time. Now spill the beans. If you're going to be staying with us I need to know who you are, yeah?  Come on, can't be any more embarrassing than the time my father caught me with a pair of bucks from Tenpony.”

    Alright, my imagination was shutting down right now!  But try as I might to avoid it all, I realised she had me trapped.  If I left, the raiders would make my life very short without Brimstone's protection.  Only one thing for it...

    “Well...I...uh...there isn't much to my life.  I was...um...I was born a slave, you see.”

    Her eyes widened quizzically, before glancing away toward the far wall at some shelves crammed with small parts.  Something about that look struck a chord. She hadn't laughed or looked down on me. Lightly, a small ray of hope fed into my mind that perhaps she wasn't going to judge me for it.

    But then, how would she react if she knew the truth about...about what I was...

    “Geez...sucks,” she muttered, before shaking her head and looking back at me.  “What is it like to be born a slave?”

    Taking a stuttering breath, I began slowly, talking of how I was raised to be an obedient servant and labourer.  Of how I was taken from my mother and thrown from master to master. But as I talked, I realised something was different from any other time in my life...

    She was listening to me.  Just sitting there, eyes wide, interested in my tale.  Nopony had ever done that. I felt isolated, as though on a stage.

    Something in me just clicked.  My story changed, and I began including details.  Little stories within stories. I told her of how the other slaves had once held me down by a blanket and beat me with pebbles inside of socks.  Of how once they had run out of enough food and sent me out in the rain to harvest more, then never gave me any. I began to sniffle as I talked of the horrid cramped cages that took us from place to place across the wastes and of my final brutal journey to Fillydelphia.  My vision blurred as I dropped forward onto my front two hooves, lowering my head while I talked of drawing and hiding, and of Noose and her gang picking on me. Of how I couldn't break free of the indoctrination in my mind. I showed her my cutie mark, that hated emblem that told me what to do and how I wanted to break its grasp on my life.

    Her eyes looked at it, before glancing back at me, almost confused.  Those sparkling azure eyes softened. Her hoof gestured for me to continue, before moving forward to rest against my own hoof lightly.

    That light contact between hooves, as caring as it was, did it. I spilled.  I told her everything, from pain to humiliation, from Littlepip and the Pit to Brimstone Blitz saving me.  I almost broke down as I told her about the mare and my illness soon after. Dripping tears struck the sofa as I quivered with fear, and explained the brutal regime The Master had placed on my life.  I wept openly while I told her of how much I was scared, of the fact that I was always hurt for being small and an easy target. She listened impassively, as though judging everything I said. But the mere fact somepony was willing to listen to it all...it just all came out.

    All of it.

    Minutes passed. I didn't even move in historical order, just remembering story after story, torture after pain after terror.  I jumped from running terrified of ghouls all the way to the pre-war farmhouse skeletons. Trying to speak through great heaving sobs, I told her of how I had once almost committed suicide from the top of the airfield control tower.  Of how I had lain screaming with my lifeblood pumping out through my stomach after failing to escape.

    An entire life of pain with scant little inspiration and reason to keep going.  Years of loneliness and neglect. I was whining, failing to remember she had lost her entire life to the wasteland as well, but I didn't care.  I wasn't being selfish, I just couldn't stop the outpouring of emotions. My innermost thoughts just kept flowing, one after the other in one great big expulsion of everything wrong in my life.  Eventually, I almost collapsed in front of her, breaking down completely at last as the tears flooded, while I talked of the disease that was slowly killing me and driving me into fear for my life.  I told her everything...

    All except one thing yet.

    “And...and everypony just hates me!  Just because of some stupid thing I can't help!  It's not fair...it's just not fair...I don't want this life!  I catch myself not wanting to be who I am!”

    Quietly, she finally spoke. The feisty attitude had slipped into a deadly seriousness.

    “Who you are?  Why do they hate you?”

    Stopping, I drew short, hyperventilated breaths as I sought the courage the do this.  But the words wouldn't come. How could I tell her? How would she react?

    Eventually, I didn't.  I just sighed...and took my fleece off.  My dead wings hung limply at my side, catching her attention immediately.  With my own eyes closed, I heard her gasp suddenly and shuffle back. Finally daring my trembling body to open its eyes, I found the look of shock on her face painful to see.  Avoiding it, I turned sideways, grimacing and hanging my head in front of her. Already, I could feel the shame building the tears.

    “I'm a pegasus. They hate me because of that.  Everypony seems to...they've tried to kill me just because I'm different...because I have wings.  I...I just don't want that anymore, I even stood ready to fall from a tower! Just I was too much of a coward to go through with it! I even realised how much I’m hurting myself by thinking like that but...but it’s hard not to, even though I know about it now! Everything in this city, it’s everything! Sometimes I...I just wish somepony would reach out, grab me by the neck and...and end it for me...”

    I cried still, my entire life and situation laid bare.  Glimmerlight didn't move, her wide eyes and open mouth just staring at the wings.  Eventually, she shuffled forward.

    “You...you really want that?”

    Her voice was low, steady and breathless, holding so little emotion.  But the words bit deep. I'd never properly thought of it as directly, but here it was. I had never heard anyone say it aloud. I never had, not in those words.  Despite my wishes to escape, despite the mare, despite everything I had done and every self preservation effort screaming otherwise, I was just so tired. The thoughts had never left me. It was true.

    There was a long silence with me not looking at her.  The warmth of the room had my head fuzzy and set my throat to be rough on each breath.  I just sniffled and shook.

    Eventually, she moved.  Rapidly, her hooves shot forward for my neck as I felt a great force tug at it.

    ...then she did it.

    ...something nopony had ever done for me since I was a foal.

    She hugged me.

    Her voice cracked, every ounce of that confident swagger hurled into emotion.

    “No!  I...I absolutely refuse to let you think that way!  Don't ever think you need to do that!”

    I let myself be held, falling into the embrace and feeling my own eyes cry again as she held me, her magic levitating the ragged blanket around me.

    “Never again...you'll never have to think that way again.  I don't hate you, Murky.  Oh goodness, a pegasus in Filly...”

    Her hooves tightened as she sniffed deeply..

    “You poor, poor thing...”

    I felt comfort.

    For once, I felt comfort and safety in somepony else.  The mare had always been in passing within dangerous areas.  Brimstone Blitz was an unknown terror as much as he was a protective behemoth and Protégé...well...who in Equestria knew what he really wanted from me?

    But Glimmerlight...she was different.  Confident, inviting, and surprisingly full of empathy underneath her incredibly casual exterior.  As she finally let go of me and tightly wrapped her blanket about me, I began to re-evaluate her once again.  Yes...she had her own rather 'unique' style to life, that much was obvious already. From the stories she’d told outside, and the way she acted, Glimmerlight seemed to just bounce from impulse to impulse, but now I knew that it didn't mean she couldn't slow down, listen, and care.  Was this what really mattered in finding others? To see that everypony had their own quirks, flaws, and hidden sources of varied strength? If so, what was mine?

    “Now, you just sit there, Murky.  Rest, for Celestia's sake! Your eyes look about ready to fall off your face with how sunken they are.  Besides, I did enough resting while you were saving my rather well-formed flanks, so I hear.”

    Her smile turned less joking and more to a sincere expression.

    “Thanks for that...I owe you a lot.  I just hope Brim wasn't too...severe, with you.  He is trying to be better, he really is. But it's a hard path for him.  Once you get to know him he's really quite alright, wicked sense of dry humour if he's in the mood.  Just you rest up from your little Glimmer-saving adventures, okay? I'm just gonna tidy up a little.”

    “I...I understand...thanks.” I muttered quietly as I replied, still unsure on how to really talk to somepony this overwhelmingly forward in her intent to make me comfortable.  Should I be asking questions? What should I ask? I watched her fussing around her belongings, mostly lots of scrap and many of those orbs from before that glittered in their boxes.  How had she acquired so much junk?

    Wait, a question!

    “Um...Glimmerlight?”

    “Please, just Glimmer. No formality in this hellhole.” She grinned as she took some tattered red robes, so faded they almost looked brown, from a metal box and played around with them.  “What is it?”

    “How did you get so much stuff back here?  I've never seen a slave with so many things that wasn't a trader.”

    Oh, how pitiful I sounded in my whiny high voice compared to that strong confidence she exuded while sorting through her things.  Her magic (azure coloured, like her eyes. My artistic side grinned widely) sent nuts, bolts, and old spark matrix parts flitting around the room.  One side of her mouth smirked as she stood and wandered back and forth without ever taking her eyes from me.

    “Oh...I'm a pony of varied tastes you might say.  I know a little of everything. Need somepony to work a terminal?  To repair a spark generator? To work your windmill, suggest Manehattan cocktails from memory or get a good fire going from just rocks?  Hell, I even know how to make brahmin moo louder.”

    I just blinked, my face no doubt showing little more than a bewildered look as the cogs in my head slowly turned.  Given by the look on her face, she could hear the rusty machine that was my brain failing to compute. Chuckling, Glimmerlight tossed an old rag over the room and looked over her shoulder as she went back to her scrap.

    “Don't think too hard on that one, Murky.  You'll strain yourself. Suffice to say, while I've got some serious knowledge of technology, I am a bit widespread in my tastes and skills. Just never could hang around too long, always something else to see! You'd be surprised what I know, and perhaps, at how handy I can be in a pinch when you really need that odd task done right.  I'm the type of pony everypony should know.”

    She turned, again, before pausing and lowering her eyes.

    “Except lockpicks...never could work the damn things out. That, and sewing. Never had the patience!”

    I couldn't withhold my sudden excitement.  It wasn't often I had a chance to claim any prowess.  Almost falling off the sofa as I reached into my many-pocketed fleece I pulled my needle and thread out with my mouth.

    “Oh! I know that!  I made this fleece before I tried to escape.”

    Actually, that came out more as a muffled blurt, as I tried not to swallow a needle while talking.  But she seemed to get the idea, giggling at my frantic mouth movements.

    “Well then, seems Brim and I have a reason to keep you around, Murky.  I've got a job for you! My robes got a little torn when I fell into the rad-metal pit.  If you don’t mind, think you could fix them up?”

    She asked.

    She asked.

    I had never been asked in my life to do something!  Not out of courtesy! Demands, orders, and quotas drove my life and my mind.  Even as I nodded furiously, I began to wonder if I could have said no. Then I realised, I hadn’t wanted to.

    The robes were of heavy, thick, and insulating material.  Cut near the ground to be practical, and lavish enough to clearly be of pre-war design, they immediately raised questions.  Who wore stuff like this? It wasn't exactly wasteland-proof. All the same, I took to work, patching away with needle and thread.  Glimmerlight watched for a minute or so, seemingly marvelling as I operated a tiny needle with my mouth and hooves (if only I'd chosen this talent...the skill comes easy when at threat of a barbed whip) to begin fixing her clothing.  Eventually, she answered my question.

    “So, as to the pile?  I know a lot, but particularly in fixing up old things into either new concepts or just repairing them as best I can.  Not many ponies can properly work those old magic matrix thingys these days unless you've been born some place to get a little training.  So Protégé chucks all this stuff at me, after he's done scratching his head at it, so I can fix them up for his work efforts. Oh! Yeah! What did you make of those flanks of his?  Pretty hot, right?”

    I almost spat the needle.  Glimmerlight burst out laughing, rolling onto her side at my reaction.  Her laugh was wonderful, utterly unrestrained and full of absolute joy like nothing in Equestria was wrong with her life.  Or at least, I'd be spending time enjoying it if I hadn't almost fired a sharp needle across the room through the sheer power of a spit-take.

    “Oh come on, Murky!” She wiped a tear from her eye, standing up.  “You don't go for the bucks too?”

    I blushed, what kind of question was that?

    “I...uh, I'm kinda more...mare-inclined?”

    “Aw, missing half the fun of life.  No wonder you're such a sad thing.”

    She chuckled again.  Personally, I was beginning to feel out of my depth.  Instincts were telling me something was wrong, but my heart couldn't feel anything but relief to have finally found somepony who wasn't trying to abuse me, take advantage of me, or get dragged away immediately.  I tried to giggle (I failed, but I tried!) and went back to stitching quietly. What had I found here in this Mall? All my life I was the outcast; the hated, the slave, and the bottom of the chain. Occasionally I had met ponies who had made me believe it didn't have to be that way.  But was this finally proof that there were others out there I could...be around? That I didn't have to be alone? Glimmerlight had, within five minutes, shared jokes, hugged and cared for me, given me a job I chose for myself...

    I just couldn't comprehend this.  What did she want? Everypony always wanted something.  Was sewing for her going to become my job in life?  My mind raced, panicking but unable to muster the energy to do anything about it.  At least she wasn't hurting me, that was a start. No, she cared...just to what end was not for me to consider right now.

    Sitting back on the sofa, I curled into the blanket and let out a long breath.  Somehow, it felt like I had been holding it ever since I had woken up in the pig sty in the FunFarm on my first night there.  For once I could let my guard down. Yes, I ached and there was still a lot of unknowing, but surely this couldn't go wrong? Just...just once, where I could relax and stitch something I wanted.  

Only...I couldn't.  What was all of this but just a facade that I was hiding myself within, until The Master came again?  Until we were all forced into the Stable? I felt myself beginning to shake as the needle dropped. My chest heaved a little as I fought to hold it back.  The past...I had to confront the past more than ever before, and likely fight for my life...

    Goddesses, I was so pathetic...she was the one who had barely survived after her world was destroyed, and yet Glimmer smiled and kept going...I just cried and...and worked on this old...old pre-war clothing...

    “Murky?”

    The robe fell from my hooves.  Falling in a heap on the floor before the sofa, my eyes rested upon the markings, machine stitched seams and properly dyed, if faded, colours.  Who had worn it before? Where had they bought it? What would they think of it now in this dark place? My hooves shook, the thread falling as I pulled the blanket around me, turning my head away from it with a whimper.

    “I'm sorry!” I sniffed deeply, wiping my nose with a hoof and avoiding her look.  “I...pre-war stuff and...the past, it, I don't know...something about it just...just makes me well up and...and...”

    “Shh...shh, it's alright...”

    I felt her move over, a hoof passing around me gently and pulling my blanket-wrapped self closer.  The feeling was too alien, too unknown to me to take any real comfort. Touch had only ever been a bad thing for me.  Thus...I simply shook and cried. I cried in the pathetic manner in which I always did, my one defence against it all becoming too much.  This was getting too big for me, heading to a Stable, preserved past times.  I just couldn't cope. If Glimmerlight hadn't been here holding on to me...if Protégé hadn't locked me away in a pit with raiders...what might I have done?  Run off again?

    “I don't want to go to the Stable.  I don't like the past, it's too...too hurtful.  Everything I look at, it's just all filled with bad memories.”

    “Not all memories are bad, Murky...”

    “It feels like all of mine are!”

    I hadn’t meant to shout so loudly. I pulled away, scampering over the couch away from Glimmerlight.  Trying to hop the edge and run into the darkness to hide, I felt my hooves catch in the blanket, tripping me with a high-pitched yelp off of the couch to squarely land on Glimmer's possessions.  Cases spilled open, sending fragments of circuitry and little orbs rolling over the floor. The shock finally brought me to my senses...somewhat. I lay on the ground, surrounded by her things, shaking and apologising so fast and repeatedly it was just a constant stream even as she stared down at me with a mix of confusion and sadness.

    Without a word, she got up and helped me back onto the couch, before placing the blanket over me once again.

    “I...I've been through a lot, Murky.”

    Her voice shook, an unusual tone.

    “But trust me, there is always good.  You told me about that mysterious mare you keep meeting...about Littlepip.  Take strength from their examples. The mare stood up to Shackles for you! Littlepip inspired you!”

Shivering, trying to make sense of the overwhelming emotions of her being there, of feeling unusually safe around others in a place I didn’t have to get dragged out from, I just looked at her.

    “I don’t understand, why...why are you acting like this to me? I’ve never...”

    Glimmerlight reached out, and brushed a strand of my mane from my eyes.

“Easy...you saved my life. You did what others wouldn’t. You’ve proven what kind of pony you are to me. And to Brim. He saved your hiney too because he was impressed...whether he'll admit it or not.  After what you risked for us, he does care about you, Murky. As do I.”

My voice felt very fragile, uncertain how to ask this.

    “You mean I can...I can stay here?”

    She squeezed my hoof and smiled, as I heard voices start to shout in the rest of the Mall complex.  The Master above them all...coming closer.

    “Alright, all you wretches!  It's Stable time! Wagons are here so get your scrawny flanks moving!  First slave to bring me a nice untouched Stable-dweller alive gets a hot meal!  Now get moving!”

    I clammed up, shaking and feeling the tug to respond. Briefly, I caught Glimmerlight’s confused look as I upped and began trotting out. In the end, I realised it didn’t matter. I went where he wanted me.

    It had been foolish to think otherwise.

    “Come on, all of you, out here. Now!”

    I emerged from the back room to see sompony else in the cell with Brimstone Blitz. The big raider was glaring at an intruder, as in the entranceway, I saw The Master waiting for me.  His rotten teeth grinned at me as the raiders filed past, followed by the dejected slaves.

    “First mission, Number Seven!  Come back to Daddy alive now, y'hear?”

    I shut my eyes as I trotted past him, alone out of the cell, before squealing and crying out in quick succession as I felt his hoof slap my flank and knock me over after I passed him.  The raiders stomped their hooves and jeered at the Master's little toy lying on the ground while I was too scared to move.

    Just as quickly, they shut up as I felt two figures trot up either side of me.  One whose imposing presence gave them a very damned good reason to keep their traps shut. The other gently knelt and helped me back to my hooves.  I stared at Glimmerlight disbelievingly. She just winked.

    “Told you, we’re here. And yes...of course you can.”

    With one quick glance behind me, I watched as my Master seemed to snarl at all of us, glaring with interrupted fury, as I was helped by my...my...

    ...what were they to me?

    I didn't know.
   

    Fillydelphia was never an environment that permitted moments of peace and happiness for long.  Mere minutes after finding some strength in Glimmerlight and Brimstone Blitz, the 'workers' were to march to the front of the Mall under heavy griffon guard for relocation into a series of caged wagons.

    Trudging out, my back reminding me that whip injuries cared not for positive thoughts, I found the process of embarkment aggressive and intimidating.  Slaves were being shoved by slavers from all sides, keeping them disoriented and stumbling as they filtered through the heavy gate of the Mall into the thick smog of the outside world in the city.  Many choked immediately from the nearby copper refinery blowing its foul wastes down the streets, or from the rank smells emanating from those ever-present caged pits dug down into old cellars and mines.  I saw The Master's cronies hurling slaves into each of the half-dozen wagons, raiders or not, with enough force to rattle them off of the far side. Those baleful gas masks gazed upon us from above on rope and scrap bridges running between gaps on neighbouring buildings, weapons ready to mercilessly cut down anypony who trotted out of line. Whimpering, I stuck close to Glimmerlight as best I could while the thick mass of rank slaves and disgusting raiders crowded about us before being split toward their transports.

    My turn came and went about as smoothly as I could have hoped.  The same slaver who had directed me to the refinery chuckled as he found me on his wagon.  He tossed me to his comrade. The shoving was about as demeaning and embarrassing (my yelping may have had something to do with that) as it could be before a magical throw hurled me inside the wagon to slam on the hard straw-ridden metal floor.  Curling in the corner out of sheer protective habit, the only real consolation was that Glimmer and Brimstone were brought into the same wagon. The guards didn't even try touching him as his huge weight caused the wagon to rock on the suspension by merely stepping inside. That, and making the four slaves tasked to pull it groan audibly, mostly asking why he wasn't pulling.

    Even as the cage door was slammed shut after a dozen more slaves were crammed in, I didn't move.  Nothing could help my mind worrying on all the twisted fates I was in for. Stables were legendary for how messed up they could get. I wanted to just run away.  Hide, go back to Wicked Slit and beg to be allowed to just pull carts again...

    “Just stay with us, we'll try and keep you safe.”

    Glimmerlight's voice was shaky.  The harsh loading sequence and imminent Stable invasion had to be affecting her as well. The mere fact she had added 'try' said it all.  Zombie ponies seemed little in comparison to the past that had ended the world with its horrors.

    Settling down, I tried to calm myself. To remind myself to breathe, just breathe, and look around. To not think that of being in a cage, but rather to look around at the world.  At all the ponies and buildings that I was used to in Fillydelphia...

    Instead, I saw The Master moving away from the armoury wagon that carried the weapons to stand at the gateway to the Mall.  Seeing me looking, that grin began to crawl across his face while his head followed me on our departure.  His eyes were fixed on mine the entire time, before he raised a hoof to actually wave, mockingly.  His voice rang out, just loud enough for only myself to hear it. How did he know the volume to use?

    “Enjoy the history of how ponies like me came to rule your world, Number Seven!  Just think of all the skeletons you'll get to meet!”

    Moments later, Glimmerlight began her efforts to understand and help me after I had collapsed into a blubbering heap at her hooves.  Perhaps, if I had been watching, I might have felt something as we passed through the main gates and outside of the hell I had been trapped in.  But I was too busy trying to quell thoughts of dark voids looking to pull me underground into the past’s madness.

    That was something about travelling with somepony who, for some reason, wanted to be nice to me.  Horrible events that made me scared seemed...further away...when around her. With reassurances and a nice hug, I felt...better.  That alone was something new. As was the land outside.

    It had been a long time.  The walls of Fillydelphia and the hellish industry were all that I had encountered for months.  To witness the wastes one more time, I had expected to feel a sense of escape. Perhaps even begin to realise the concept of freedom.

    Instead, I found it haunting.  In all directions around Fillydelphia were either more concrete ruins, rolling fields of broken soil, or low hills leading to larger, snow-tipped mountains in the distance. On in particular spired up above the others, its tip past the clouds. The air was clearer pit here, but not by much.  Huge billows of smoke drifted over the Wall in various places, driven by the lazy wind to suffocate anything outside of the pit itself. Even the wasteland itself seemed to darken as it got closer to Red Eye’s empire.

Our column was being pulled slowly under heavy guard toward the nearest set of hills, to the west, I thought.  The wagons quickly proved to be incredibly foul, packed in with slaves as filthy as I was myself from months in Fillydelphia.  Curling in the corner, with Glimmerlight and Brimstone to one side, I could only feel like I was being contained in some sort of handy portable slave pit.  That, and there was an annoying squeak from the right back wheel every few seconds, never in a regular pattern either, that was slowly driving me to want to beat myself unconscious to not listen to it any more.  On the upswing, however, my sickness had steadily relaxed out here. Already, I could feel my breathing becoming a little easier away from the industrial atmosphere. Out here, the ambient radiation was much lower than back home in Fillydelphia.

    My heart stopped for a minute.

    I had just called Fillydelphia...home.

    Oh Goddesses. I immediately looked out and around, trying to find anything to take my attention away from how seriously messed up my head was getting from my time in there.  I had been working for days to feel free and confident in myself; why was I still thinking things like this? I had to take a long breath, trying to quell the anger at myself. I’d learned that recently. It wasn’t healthy. I had to just...just slow down my thinking.

    Around us trotted slavers and soldiers of Red Eye.  Above, griffons drifted back and forth gracefully on the hot winds to watch the horizon.  If I hadn't known better, I'd have said it was a military grade convoy instead of a slave excursion.  I followed one griffon as she spiralled down, whirling in the air before rounding off and gliding into the distance to perform a check on something.  The others hovered in place with powerful flaps of their colossal wings.

    Watching me, Glimmerlight saw my eyes following the griffons.  With a soft stroke of my fleece around where my wings were, she looked a little sad.

    “You want to join them?” Her voice was quiet, quickly learning she didn't need to speak up where every other filthy slave crammed in the wagon could hear.

    “The sky isn't mine to have, I've never been up there.”

    “Doesn't stop you wishing if it's what you want, Murky.”

    I sighed, looking over at her instead of the griffons.  She hadn't been around me long enough to really get that while I had wings, and was a pegasus with a natural love of open spaces, my place was forever on the ground...possibly beside a slaver.  But no, that wasn't why I was watching.

    “No...I was just wondering why they're here.  It's not like we can escape from these.”

    Glimmerlight's eyes moved away from me to glance at the griffons.  Each carried a gigantic long rifle, undoubtedly the anti-machine rifles I had often seen.  She smiled a little wistfully.

    “Because they know who would kick their collective flanks if they didn't bring adequate counter-measures.  The Steel Rangers operate in this area pretty heavily. If Red Eye has found a Stable, they'll know too. Stern wants to deter them with enough force that even their power armour couldn’t handle.  I'll bet they've got matrix disruption grenades too.”

    Combat knowledge wasn't my area.  I instead turned back to the robes she had brought along for me to finish on the journey. There was just a couple of patches left to sew.

    “How do you know about the Steel Rangers, Glimmer?  I thought they all stayed pretty secret, only to their own kind.”

    Pulling the last thread tight, I smiled at my work.  The big symbol on her robes was reattached proudly on her left side, bearing the icon of an apple surrounded by three gears.  Azure magic coated over it as she slipped it on, lightly shoving enough room to get dressed from the slaves around us.

    “Because, Murky...”

    Shaking her mane out of the collar, Glimmerlight trotted side to side a couple of times to work in the red robes.

    “...you're looking at one.”

    I wasn't the only slave who stared disbelievingly, some of the other dirty masses raised their heads from trying to rest.  Many clearly knew already and showed no surprise, while the newer arrivals, like me, seemed to half-expect her to magically summon a huge suit of armour. Glimmerlight was a Steel Ranger?  But...but they were supposed to be all stern and focussed, not whimsical and casual like her. That said, I did remember that one look of a weathered warrior in her eyes from before.

    “You...you're a paladin of the Steel Rangers!?”

    Glimmerlight laughed, shaking her head.  “No, Murky. I wish! I was just an apprentice when I left home to get away from how stuffy things were.  Not my kind of scene. Far too much staying inside, with strict limitations on every facet of your life like social clauses against who you could and couldn't hang out with, drink with or take to bed.  I lived in the Ranger stronghold at Bucklynn Cross. My folks still help guard there; mother's a paladin and father is a scribe. Each wanted me to go into their professions.”

    One of the other slaves piped up, his voice implying a clear disbelief.

    “Bullshit, I heard unicorns couldn't wear the armour!  Their horns don't fit in the helmet!”

    Glimmer merely smiled at him, but still resumed talking to me as I kept shifting from the unsteady wagon.  The speaker earned himself a harsh glance from Brimstone. Thankfully, he didn't decide to kick off.

    “We can't.  But if I'd travelled the path of the warrior under my mother, I'd have become a knight.  Skilled in combat magic, healing, and battlefield repair of the paladin armour. We'd support their advances, and if needs be, provide a little magic cover for them.  We only wear lighter metal plates and armour, nothing powered. Scribes, meanwhile, well, everypony knows them. Sit around, research stuff, get to build cool shit from the past.  Both paths had their temptations, y'know...”

    I stretched, standing up and trying to find room amongst the cramped slaves in the wagon.  Most were just ignoring our conversation now, seemingly worried more about their own selves or just not wanting to attract attention from Brimstone.  The massive earth pony still sat silently at the side of the wagon where he simply watched anypony for signs of trouble. The raiders, I had noticed, were being kept in a separate wagon, away from him.

    “So...which path did you take?”

    “My own.  Folks weren't too happy about me leaving, but one night I just told them to their faces that being in the Rangers wasn't allowing me to see all I wanted to see.  That I could learn more and come back to them someday with what I had gathered. Caused a bit of an uproar really...”

    In the past, I had been dragged from my mother against my will.  Glimmerlight had chosen to leave hers for a better life. Immediately, I couldn't decide if I could have done the same, if it would have let me escape.  All I knew is that my mother would have wanted it. But hearing it from Glimmer, through all her smiles...I couldn't help but feel sorry for her parents.  They wouldn't know what had happened to her, that their daughter was now in the thrall of Red Eye. That thought bit hard, especially if they had parted on low moods.

    “Did...did they hate you for it?” My voice was shaky, trying not to step on any emotional landmines.

    “At first, yeah...but they were a little more progressive than most of the Elders.  They said that if I could bring something incredible back then it could all be spun as some big quest to help the orde.!  But the Elders...they put out motions for me to be regarded a traitor unless I returned. An ultimatum, you might say. Said to break the ways of isolation and preservation was to break the chains that bound us to the great cause.”

    A little element of kinship lit in my heart for her.  Glimmerlight had sought to escape a life not chosen by herself, just as I had.  Instead, through cruel happenstance, she had been enslaved.

    “Did nopony say otherwise?  Realise it was wrong?”

    Much to my surprise, Glimmerlight did not reply immediately.  For once, she seemed to be at a loss for words as she turned away from me and stared in the direction of Manehattan.  Eventually she spoke, as though having to think long and hard to find the proper words.

    “There was one.  I would have followed him if I knew where to find him.  Still would. Take his lead, his ideals, at least for a while. But the Rangers just don't think that way anymore.  Now they only care about technology, anything they can get to hoard away, just like they tried to hoard my skills and my life away, as just another one of them.  Knowledge, and ponies...they both deserve to be free. That's what he believed.”

    “Who was he?”

    “Somepony very special, Murky...”

    She hoofed the symbol on her robes lightly and longingly.  Or more particularly, the apple.

    “The one Ranger I know of who hasn't forgotten what we're meant to stand for.”

    My mouth opened, the question of who and why, along with a dozen other thoughts, prepared to come out.  I felt a huge hoof nudge my side. Turning, I found Brimstone looking down at me and lightly shaking his head.

    This entire business of being friendly and helping one another was entirely new to me.  I did not know what it was called, or what Glimmerlight truly was. But at least for now, I understood that there were always limits.  As I pulled my journal out to draw instead, I reflected that at least Brimstone had also showed he cared by just gently reminding me.

    Glimmerlight didn't cease looking out into the wastes for a few minutes, before giggling to herself and sitting down.  But I knew, more than any pony in the world, how to look past the smile and recognise the look of somepony realising they were trapped away from the ones they longed to be with.

    “Aw, fudge!”

    Muttering to myself, I bent my hoof across my drawing and tried my best to smudge out the line that had gone astray when the wagon lurched on a rock.  The last half hour I had spent with my head down just drawing something I wanted, because why not? It was not like my life needed any more horror or emotional turmoil.  So I had settled on drawing something pleasing. Glimmerlight and Brimstone Blitz had chatted quietly. Or rather, she had chattered, and Brim had just given gruff answers and sardonic quips while filling He stuck to the important events as he spoke.

    “Wait, you kidding, Brim? He's seriously never said 'fuck' before?”

    Well, mostly important.

    Drawing kept my mind off of what was approaching, anyway.  With my back to the hills, I couldn't see the great rock face approaching that was casting a shadow over the entire convoy.  I couldn't see the little glint of metal in the hillside that indicated our destination. I willed myself to just draw and not think...draw and not think of the past.  Glimmerlight had helped give me the courage to look on the past and not despair for everything...but a...a Stable...

    No, I had to just keep drawing and ignore it.  That place was future Murky Number Seven's problem to deal with!  I could just concentrate on the lovely lines and charcoal and relax...yes.  I felt the fear back down and diminish in the back of my mind. Sighing as I held the journal back up on my front hooves, I maintained sketching away so intently I didn't even see Brimstone loom over my shoulder and cast a glance at my drawing.

    “You know, Murk, you got a better look at Littlepip than I did...but I could have sworn she had more clothing than that.”

    The charcoal spluttered from my mouth as I whipped the journal shut and held it against me before looking up, shaking my head.  My voice rose in pitch, almost squeaking as I felt myself turn red as Brimstone Blitz himself.

    “I...I just haven't added it yet!”

    He let a low grin fill his face as he leaned back and stared at the hillside.

    “Sure, buddy...sure.”

    Glimmerlight's mad grin appeared from behind him as she raised and lowered her eyebrows.

    “I guess I'll need to have a look at that journal sometime soon...”

    I was already a small pony...somehow I managed to feel even smaller as I tried to turn away in embarrassment.  But she only just smiled, as did Brimstone. What were they doing? They weren't insulting me or demeaning me, but still they teased me.  What was this sort of thing? Tucking my journal away safely, I reflected that there was a lot I didn't understand right now. Why were they even looking out for me anyway?  Probably just so I could do some job for them soon...that was all anypony ever wanted from me, eventually.

    Despite trying hard, even my negative thoughts couldn't quite believe that about Glimmerlight.  But my wandering mind wasn't given much opportunity to think longer, as the wagon ground to a halt and slavers began shouting for us to dismount and stay well away from them.  Squeaking in terror, I finally allowed myself to turn and witness the reality of my situation.

    Uncovered from behind an old rockfall, I saw the giant shape.  Burnished steel made up its entire construction beside a frayed control panel.  A number I couldn't read was emblazoned on the front. A huge door, gear-shaped and already rolled to the side revealed a thick blackness beyond, one that my eyes couldn't adjust to through the bright red haze of the valley around me.

    Thrown out of the wagon while looking, my gaze never once left it. That gaping hole into the past.  Towering over me, I felt impossibly small in its presence; unthinkably unimportant to the passing of time and the events of the world shattering past.

    “Gather round!  Stable excursion starts in ten, get geared up, pumped up, and let’s do this!”

    The raiders cheered. Glimmer and Brimstone glanced to the rest of the slaves and took deep breaths.  Shouts for the armoury wagon to get its contents spilled and chants of raiding and looting began. The entire excursion, slaver and slave alike, began to thrive with excitement at another chance to earn their freedom, if only by a small amount.

    But I just continued to sit alone and stare into the void that had terrified me all my life.

    “Stay back! Get into your lines and wait for your kit, then stay against the walls! Step one hoof out of line and you will be shot down on the spot!”

    The griffons were not taking any chances when it came to handing the slaves weaponry. As they explained, we would be given unloaded weaponry one by one from the armoury wagon that had been pulled up behind us under heavy guard. The slavers would then depart about half a mile to a nearby ruined farmhouse, leaving boxes of ammunition at the door to the Stable. Griffons would cover us all from above, about three dozen slaves, while we armed up and headed in. Any resistance would be met with a barrage of heavy weaponry that the rusty old things we were being given wouldn't have a hope against. The bombardment was safe in the knowledge that no other slavers were in the area.

    Very quickly, I began realising how that barrage would include me, regardless of my own actions...

    I spent a brief time as we waited staring out into the wastes. For once, there were no walls. No smog clogged my lungs and I couldn’t feel my pulmina...ebo...lung disease thingy, at all. My lungs were resting easier on the cleaner air, to the point that I almost felt dizzy to take a deep breath. The distances were incredible, I could see further than the next industrial street. 

So why didn't I feel free here?

    The answer came to me rather simply. Because I wasn't. No matter what I thought, I was still property of The Master, Protégé, and of course Red Eye. A quick glance at my flank revealed the gnashing shackles were still there...still signifying that even here, outside the Wall, I was just a slave on a mission.

    The raiders apparently had weapons well known to them, drawn from Protégé's armoury that was mostly made up of weapons confiscated from them after being dragged into Fillydelphia. Apparently his theory, as Glimmerlight explained, was they would fight better and be better controlled in higher moods while in possession of their own kit. I saw brutal mouth knives, spiked hoof caps, auto axes (I hoped for door busting), rusty revolvers and pistols, and even a few long rifles used by the unicorns. Much to my surprise there were even a few magical energy weapons among the handouts from the armoured wagon. Shivering, I tried to hide behind Brimstone as I saw raiders gesture my way with the knives, mimicking a wing slice before laughing amongst themselves. My mind was beginning to work in overdrive about Barb in such a dark area. His presence removed all comfort of me finding a hidden little spot and just waiting it all out.

    To distract myself, I tried to concentrate on the armoury wagon and the process involved. Who knew? Perhaps I'd get a battle saddle in my size?

    A very odd stallion indeed was acting as the arms master. An old, dark grey earth pony with a straggly brown mane and sunken eyes was grumbling and muttering cynically as he dragged weaponry from the wagon. He sported a missing eye and seemed to scowl about as much as he took shots from an old glass of alcohol. He left it sitting on the weapon bench he had lumped all the way over here for running repairs. His accent was beyond my knowledge by at least several regions, missing words and occasionally breaking into a harsh dialect that sounded like it had been designed exclusively to swear in. That is, I could only assume the words were curses, they sure sounded like it.

    Brimstone and Glimmerlight were clearly headed to be 'served' by the strange armoury slaver, with the big warlord moving up first to receive a chosen weapon.

    “Govno! Brimstone Blitz! Is brave of you to request weapon from me after state you return poor gun last time!”

    With just a shrug, Brimstone motioned to the raiders.

    “They got rowdy, needed calming down. I'm not their leader any more; doesn't mean I have to let them get frenzied on the others when they go unsupervised. Your gun was a nice beating implement, Mosin.”

    Brimstone's clearly deliberate grin only made 'Mosin' bristle, idly take a swig of alcohol without ever breaking eye contact, and tap Brimstone's chest with a hoof.

    “You break every gun I give! I give you pistol, you smash it over head! I give you rifle, you step on barrel!”

    “Never did need a gun to do my work. Can't aim the things anyway.”

    “Mne pohui! Back home, would be shamed to admit such a thing! Here! I will give you last chance only! After that, you are on fucking own! This is southern grade assault rifle with only minimal moving parts and big thick ironwork receiver. Is unbreakable! Once, I beat hellhound over head for half hour with it. Still fired after stupid heusos bit my hoof!”

    I could believe it, looking at that mangled appendage bound up with rough prosthetic wood on his front left leg. Brimstone took the rusty rifle in his mouth and tested the sights, before muttering his own muffled curse to himself and hooking it over his side within easy reach. He grinned at me, out of sight of Mosin, as he wandered off from the armourer.

    “Unbreakable? Interesting challenge. I've wanted a reliable club for a while...”

    “You break gun, then you worst gun handler in Equestria! Next!”

    Glimmerlight was next up behind him. Seeing her, Mosin's mood did not improve.

    “And you! Big red one brings guns back broken, that I can fix! You do things to them! Never come back the same way and often lose way I calibrate them. You get nothing fancy this time, old bolt-action for you!”

    He tossed a very long wooden rifle to Glimmer, who caught it mid throw with her telekinesis before bringing it closer and immediately examining it under an obviously expert scrutiny. Chuckling, the Mosin tapped the weapon and outright laughed.

    “Think you steal components and I not notice? Nothing worthwhile removable on gun this time! You use, you bring back.”

    She seemed to ignore him, before her eyebrows narrowed at the bolt loosely flopping back and forward under her magic. Her eyes glanced up with the anger of one who respects proper design. I could relate...damn safety railings...

    “This long rifle is not fit for use by anypony, not even a slave! You say I take things but you don't even keep them fresh with components you old bastard! This rifle doesn't even have a safety!”

    The earth pony rounded on her, a look of confusion on his face as he looked, not at the rifle but at her, and bellowed in mirth.

    “Safety!? Is not safe! Is gun!”

    Both he and the raiders bellowed with laughter as he shoved Glimmerlight aside and screamed for the next one in the queue. Recovering quickly, she huffed and stomped off toward Brimstone. Watching them, I didn't even notice I was next before I felt the slave behind me bellow in my ear and shove me forward. Stumbling, I fell right into (and bounced off of) Mosin before he eyed me up (well...down...) with a great degree of curiosity, and began laughing.

    “They must be desperate! Sending foal to fight in Stable! Tell me, little colt...or filly, not sure which...you handle weapons?”

    What the hell, it was worth a shot. “Um...I'd like a battle saddle? I know...I know about them!”

    Both Mosin and the other slaves bellowed with laughter as I felt his freaky wooden hoof slap me over the back of my head rather painfully. Whining from the strike, it occurred to me he was just 'slapping out of humour,' albeit very strongly.

    “Oh, you are very ambitious buck you are! My colleague back at Mall, he would like you. Flamboyant idiot with no sense of proper practical weaponry. Always wants bigger things and enjoys kitting slaves out with perfectly fitting and fancy firearms. I keep him locked in armoury cleaning since he tried to attach sniper scope to flamethrower. No, you get this! Pistol befitting your size and age.”

    He tossed me a BB pistol. That accent intimidated me, the prosthetic hoof freaked me out, and the attention of a couple dozen slaves laughing and making jokes at my expense was one thing, but come on, this was ridiculous!

    “But, sir...I—”

    “Mister Mosin, I am called.”

    “Mister Mosin! I can't fight crazy robots or monsters with that! I...I'm not that young! I'm just small!”

    “Could have fooled me. You get toy gun and you will enjoy it till you are big enough to have stallion's gun. Next!”

    At least he hadn't bucked me away from him like everypony else in Fillydelphia did once they were done with me...I picked up the pitiful 'weapon' in my mouth (how unrefined! No saddles, really?) and wandered sadly back to Brimstone and Glimmerlight, feeling my chances of survival plummeting rapidly. Perhaps I could crawl inside a ventilation duct near the entrance and...and hide. Just wait till it was all over. Stables had ducts, right?

    My memory quickly began to remember clambering inside the drain on my escape, before being bitten and chased by radroaches. Rapidly, the idea of being stuck in a cramped little area began to fade as a very safe one.

    My eyes fell upon the thick blackness behind the great circular gate.

    ‘Cramped little area’ was describing the entire place I was about to go into. Even as the wagons circled off and descended the track again to leave behind the ammunition, I just hid behind a rock until all the raiders were done picking out their required supplies. Glimmerlight kindly levitated the box of BBs across to me.

    “Don't worry, Murky. Just keep your head down and we'll keep you safe, alright? Chances are there won't be anything those raiders can't handle, I'm hoping. Now, let’s get you some ammo and...ah shit...”

    Inside the box, there was absolutely nothing but a small note. I didn't even need to be able to read the writing as I saw the crude drawing of a shadowy raider winking at me.

    Suddenly I became very glad that we had time before we went in. I'd need it to stop shaking and recover. But amidst tears, fear, and failed attempts at reassurance, I could not fight the inevitability that I would have to go. The griffons had promised to shoot any slave who did not do the work.

    The raiders were first. Screaming war cries they haphazardly charged into the great Stable door, disappearing into the darkness completely. Their bellowing became muffled and then strangely silent as they went further inside. Other slaves followed in small groups, nervously moving inside at a slower, more cautious pace. I saw Barb hang around, wink, and smile at me and then creep inside himself. His dull colours led him to vanish from view almost immediately, leaving just the three of us...or rather, just me, as Glimmerlight and Brimstone attempted to help nudge me along by going first.

    I was alone. Certain death behind me and the horrible past of Equestria before me. I was still crying as I gulped, shakily stepped forward, and moved into the darkness of times long gone.

    Grey.

    The first few seconds inside were nothing but a sudden shock of stark terror pounding throughout my body!  The stories had been right. All that was inside was a thick and horrifying darkness! It surrounded me, suffocating.  If I hadn't been too scared to make a sound in the cloying dark, I would have screamed.

    But quickly, my eyes began to adjust to the darkness.  Feeling weak, gasping for air in the musty atmosphere of a place long sealed away, I tried to stay calm.  It wasn't working. I had experienced small hidden holes all my life...crawled through ducts and even went into an underground bunker just a small portion of a day ago, but that was all temporary and I knew it was still near ground level.  I had always known what lay just outside of whatever hole I'd crawled into. My place had been decided, an eternal place by my master's side.

    This was different.  A warm air, the polar opposite to the wasteland I had left and in some way lived in all my life, set my coat to sweat beneath my thick fleece almost immediately.  Even before details began to form in my vision I could smell things, rotting and dusty, chemical and utterly alien. Any small surface I could glimpse was that same gunmetal grey.  Every railing, wall, control panel, just...grey. My ears found a whole new range of sounds to pick up ;‘from dull electronic humming, crackling static and sparking magical flares from control panels on each wall somewhere.  If it weren't for the dead blackness, I might have mistaken it for still being fully functional. My hooves, so used to debris and unsteady surfaces, felt unsure on the smooth metal panels below me. And though I valued an ability to see well in the dark to escape bigger ponies...even my eyesight felt dulled to the point I could see very little in even this entrance hallway.  Wires hung from the ceiling through vents that had corroded apart over the long years like cobwebs. Or were they cobwebs? I couldn't tell!

    A whole new level of panic overtook me.  My legs froze on the spot as the feeling of wandering into the failed past hit home.  What was it like to live here...for that huge door to seal shut and forever trap you in the servitude of survival in a small home like this!  To never see the sky, even if covered in clouds! To have nothing to shoot for, to escape from...to forever be bound to one little place for your entire life.  The thought sent shivers down every nerve I owned as for the first time I realised why Littlepip, the Stable Dweller, had fought so hard for her freedom.

    She knew what it was like to be trapped.  That sense of entrapment must have been what drove her to escape from being like...like a trapped bird!  Very quickly, panic began to set in, and I imagined the door shutting behind me. Of it rolling down from that great hinge and marking a new level of confinement for my life.  That if I went any further, this Stable would just swallow me whole into an inescapable prison.

    Echoes of murderous cries echoed in the air between corridors, as the raiders whooped and stormed down every one of the corridors.  Three ways seemed to direct out of the entrance and its raised stair sections. The crashing and rattling of metal mixed with the sound of thick glass being pounded and beaten upon when five of them began tearing into a booth on the right hand side.  The remainder began rushing, pushing other slaves out of the way as the group fought for space and purchase in this cramped entry hallway. Ponies ran every side of me, knocking me against railings I couldn't see, and I felt wires brushing like scratching tentacles against my mane.  There wasn't any space!

    My vision finally began to adjust even as we were swept up in the madness of the Stable raid.  With no chance to investigate the area properly, I was knocked around, dragged with the crowd into the cramped metal rooms and pulled inexorably deeper into the past.  I saw the colossal gears on the room from the interior side of the great door above me coated in rust and grease disappear as I was forced to keep up or be run down. A raider shoved me to the side into a hard metal wall, knocking my skull and dizzying me to the point I lost track of which way I was going.  Harsh metal steps and walls surrounded me on all sides, solid roofs and floors of the exact same panel design led my sense of direction to disappear amongst a whirlwind of activity of everyone trying to find the best loot. A dark metal nightmare, where I could do nothing but collapse to the ground and scream and shout and beg for them to stop and try to find somewhere to hide and...and what?  Think? If I thought about all this being somepony's home in the past...

    A mouth bit into my fleece and pulled me from the chaos into a side corridor.  Light blue illumination led me to screw my eyes shut after becoming accustomed to the thick darkness until, mercifully, I found the source to be Glimmerlight's horn.  Brimstone Blitz had pulled me from the rush of slaves moving into the main areas of the Stable.

    “They're going to set off every trap and unsafe area in this entire place at that rate,” muttered Glimmer as she stared down the thin side corridor that the main rush had utterly ignored, “like I said, stick with us.  We'll lay low and go for the repair bays. Always some good stuff in there and usually much less dangerous than the primary atrium and living areas.”

    I shrank against the wall, seeking solace in the cold metal to give me something solid to anchor on, yet it throbbed under the surface with a subtle power that quickly led me to stick closer to Glimmerlight instead.  Was this place alive? More and more I was getting the impression that Stables were entirely aware of those ponies hidden within them...or those intruding upon the relics they had steadfastly protected for centuries.

    “Murky, you alright?”

    Everything just felt wrong here, something had ruined this place.  All those rocks outside, why had they covered the entrance? The door had been locked open, why?

    “Hey, Murky?”

    I just...I didn't want to know.  I'd been dragged through the Stable since I had wandered in, had I travelled straight?  Did they pull me around a corner? Which way was it back to the door? This was too much!

    “Murky!”

    Just...just too much!  I dropped against the floor, curling up as I numbly felt somepony, Glimmer, shaking me and calling my name.  But I didn't want to face it anymore...I just wanted to close my eyes and pretend none of it existed. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear over it all, every sight and smell down here was unreal and born of a past I feared.  I wanted out, now.

    Amongst the clacking of hooves on metal floors, screaming raiders, and crashing sounds of mad looting, I just fell into my most basic reaction and cried.  Even while I felt Glimmerlight's hoof stroking my mane trying to help, I just curled up tighter.

    “We’re here, Murky...”

    I shuddered.  Too much...just...too much...

   
    Lying on the ground, fearfully peeping out between my hooves, I saw that the Stable was constructed of matching components. Every twenty feet or so the wall patterns repeated, like it had been constructed modularly. Stairs leading up and down broke away at intervals while huge metal doors filled with warning symbols stood guard over their contents. I was wrong, this wasn't a dark void of nothing. It was a preserved and quickly rotting corpse of metal. Foul water leaked from pipes into corners and down stairs while occasional rattles of doors trying to open on failed pistons gave an annoyingly regular metallic noise to the entire facility.

    And that was just one corridor.

    Under Glimmer's reassurances I’d somewhat shakily pulled myself to my hooves, following the pair. To say the ‘lights had come on’ was something of a overstatement, vision went only as far as the buzzing lighting units functioned, and the majority had failed. Where before there was a black void, there was now a hazy yellow glow that flickered and died more often than it was actually on. Combined with the red rust and dull grey, it provided a necrotic atmosphere to this place. What had obviously once been sterile had been worn down over time into looking like it had been made from scrapyard materials.

    A screeching and agonised scream cut the air. Whimpering, I fell flat on the floor. The pair with me tore their guns out and aimed in either direction. The screaming kept going, distant and horrifying. It was like the old dwellers were still screaming in the Stable that had become their tomb. Glimmerlight took a shaky breath and glanced sideways at Brimstone.

    “Brim...what the hell was that?”

    The noises of the raiders had dulled down somewhat. Without warning, it came again. This time, it sounded hurt...then louder and higher, mixed with begging and pitiful wailing. Brimstone's eyes closed as he listened, before shaking his head slowly.

    “Something that makes me glad we came this way. Let's just get some stuff and get the hell out. Quietly.”

    Without a word we moved on, Brimstone and Glimmerlight keeping their firearms handy. For the next ten minutes we wound through corridor after corridor, trying doors that seemed inoperable. Careful trotting took us around exposed power panels in the floor while an odd little river coming from 'upstairs' let warm water wash around our hooves before it disappeared into the lower levels. Glancing down the staircase showed that the level below held no light to see the destination of the stream. Still shaking and struggling to control myself, I moved on and spotted Glimmerlight and Brimstone pass around a corner. It was intersected with two windows so filthy and covered in dust that we couldn't see even the inside of whatever room it was.

    “Think that's the canteen? You've been in more Stables than me...”

    The big pony narrowed his eyes and scratched his mane with a hoof.

    “No, but something isn't right. I've been in four Stables. Every one of them had the same rough layout in some way. This one isn't following that. I'm not sure what this is.”

    I hadn't been in any Stables to know. Letting my thoughts drift back to the ghoul community in the crater, I tried to remind myself that that bunker hadn't been any different...

    No, it had. That was a bunker designed to shelter and continue medical work. It wasn't a home, a place of memories. But then, neither had this place been, so far. Horrid rusting corridors and dirty windows? Where were the skeletons? Where were the abandoned toys and old beds?

    Leaning forward and hopping up on my hind legs, I wiped the dust from the window, peering in as I cleaned it to get a better sense of where we were. Maybe it would have some Radaway for me to ta-

    With a howling scream, the blood-caked face rattled against the window right in front of my nose. Screaming till my throat was hoarse, my fleeing was stopped only by running into the brick wall that was Brimstone Blitz. Not again! No! I'd had enough of ghouls!

    I heard the laughter a few seconds afterwards as the door from down the hallways slid open and four of the raiders tumbled out, almost crying with laughter.

    “Did ya see his face, mate!?”

    “What a fuckin' riot! Good spot hearing them coming, Knife!”

    The third raider had smeared blood over his own face from a shallow wound. Going by his bloodied axe, I wondered if he had done it himself. I lay on the ground, tears streaming down my face and hyperventilating as I saw Glimmerlight step toward them.
   
    “Just piss off, you lot! This is hard enough without you all screwing around!”

    The four of them just laughed all the harder, stepping just close enough to make a point, but, I observed, not so close that they'd be within reach of Brimstone. The warlord stood impassively, with a furious look on his face, presumably waiting for Glimmer's approval to no doubt kill them. The bloody-faced raider leaned forward. I could see scars all over him, all no doubt self-inflicted, going by the angled patterns to them. In a moment of disbelief, I realised that it wasn't just his face! He had coated himself with blood, for what? To psyche himself up?

    These ponies were a far cry from Noose and Lemon.

    “Hey, ‘Ranger’! This is our turf down here, to do what we want! Only chance we get to have proper fun without the traitor ruining it. He knows we could just kill him down here, don't you, big guy? Or is it old man now?”

    Brimstone snorted. “I'd like to see you try, Edge. I still remember you whining the day I broke your knee for touching one of my mares. Now get out of my sight.”

    I felt Glimmerlight rest down beside me. This was beyond either of us. Truth be told, hearing Brimstone refer to ‘his mares’ brought unsettling imagery of what he had done in his life before now.

    Suddenly I felt even less safe, there was one more raider than I'd counted down here with me. The four before us only laughed more as they sauntered off.

    “Fine then! Just don't get in our way, the atrium is ours now. Don't come near or you'll learn like those two little slaves who tried to take some of our loot!”

    The origin of the screams suddenly made a lot of sense. It became clear to me that the Stable's own environmental dangers were not the only things threatening us in the dark down here. A quick agreement was reached to rest for a minute and check out the room they had just left after the raiders departed. Glimmer helped me inside, more due to me now shaking so much that I could scarcely trot. The room was pitch black, with all the lights having failed. The dull haze outside in the corridor wouldn't be enough to light it. Patting my back, Glimmerlight concentrated for a moment, and let her horn light up with blue sparkles around a gentle flow, proved that her name rung true. She smiled at me.

    “Full of tricks, you'd be surprised at all the things I can do.”

    Amidst the azure hue, I took a quick glance around. Very quickly, I guessed that this was the repair bay. I had seen enough industry in Fillydelphia to recognise workbenches and tools, even if these ones seemed much better made, albeit somewhat utilita...utilitari…

Simple. They were simple and tough looking, I concluded.

Individual little stations were sectioned off from one another. I could imagine ponies sat in their own little zones in the small room, but many of them looked shunted in here haphazardly, like they’d crammed it with more than it was designed for. But what really caught my attention was when I looked at the whole room.

    Just...grey. Every bench and tool, seat and locker...that same colour. Every artistic sense I owned was screaming in violation at the dull life anypony here must have had. Without really knowing what I was doing, I moved up to one seat and sat back on my haunches before the workbench. The wall stared back. Perhaps this had once been a clean grey as opposed to what it was now. Covered in...actually, very little dust at all. It was that bland.

    This wall really needed something...maybe a, hmm...perhaps a mu—

    Glimmerlight broke the silence.

“Damn, whoever had a shop in here must have taken what they liked long ago. Probably before whatever happened to wreck the Stable. Brim, you find anything?”

    The big raider shook his head. “Not unless you feel like another wrench. Just stock equipment, minus the fancy stuff. Almost like nopony ever used this place at all. Just stuck workbenches in here to store them.”

    Turning, I saw Glimmerlight holding up a pair of pliers with a rather confused look. Only after a second did it click that the pliers still had their safety pins intact. They had never been used. Hopping down from the seat, I wandered over into the now-flickering light. Glimmer let out a long breath, swore quietly, and let it die. The all-encompassing dark took over the moment her spell ended.

    “Well, I never claimed to be an expert at long-term magic. Anypony got ideas on how to solve this?”

    I did; almost as quickly as I heard Brimstone about to mention it, I began feeling around in my saddlebag for one of the two prized possessions I carried. Sundial's PipBuck. One hoof of a button later and we had a dull green flicker to see by. There was something odd about drawing it here, until I realised the PipBuck casing was that same shade of grey too.

    Brimstone nodded with approval and he began bending the locker doors off their hinges to check their contents, but Glimmerlight stood almost in shock. She held various tools in her magic field, contrasting oddly with the green light of my PipBuck. I guessed that illumination magic took a lot more stress than a simple telekinetic hold on items.

    “You...have a PipBuck!?”

    Holding it protectively between my hooves, I just nodded.

    “Sorry I didn't say...but it...it means a lot to me.”

    The tools tumbled to the ground as she almost seemed to fly over to me, her eyes locked on the wrecked device. I could swear she was quivering on the spot like a hyperactive foal.

    “You have a PipBuck?” she repeated. “Ooh! Give! Can I see? I won't break it!”

    Slightly taken aback, I stammered a reply, before simply giving up and gently holding it out. Given the way she had treated me thus far, a look was alright, surely? She lifted it with her magic to float before her. The loose leather whip ties dangled idly while the broken hinges squeaked in the telekinetic grip. The noise echoed strangely in the isolated wing of the Stable. Briefly, I began to wonder where the other raiders and slaves were, I hadn't heard anything from them for a while.

    “Oh my...this thing has seen better days. You poor little PipBuck. Now let’s just take a look. Appropriate place this, PipBuck Technicians Bay of the Stable.”

    She hoofed the switch I normally used for the radio, which brought a very quiet volume of Sapphire Shores into the room. Raising an eyebrow, Glimmerlight upped the volume until it was at a level ponies other than freaky taintborns could detect. Eventually, she laid it on the technician's workbench and pulled a second seat over for me.

Behind us came an almighty crash as Brimstone pulled the locker clean off the wall to stamp the door inwards, trying to get at it.

Glimmerlight squinted one eye, raising the eyebrow of the other while turning and toying with the device.

    “Been so long since I had a chance to work on one of these things. Father never did allow me near any of the ones we had in storage, unless it was to teach me about the operations systems. Gotta say, Murky...the fact this one is working at all is nothing short of magical itself. The spark battery is actually exposed to the air while operating, all the hoof locks are gone, screen protector is shattered, half the buttons seem to be disconnected, and of course, the entire underside has been torn off. I'll bet somepony tried to remove this in a hurry without tools, actually.”

    I whimpered, Sundial's sad fate was still a hurtful thought in my mind I often preferred to try and forget. Had he died before the balefire? Just what happened to him around the time his PipBuck became such a mess?

    “Aha!”

    Startled, my eyes blinked and my ears perked as I leaned over before almost falling from my flattened seat with shock. There, in her hands, the screen was working! Very light green, it flickered and fizzed out a couple of times, but always came back. Arcane symbols flashed and scrolled around it, fading in and out; probably the symbol of the group who made themf. Eventually, it settled into something resembling the idle state I had seen Littlepip's sitting in. Glimmerlight could not hold her smile in as a hoof dragged me in for a little celebratory hug. I yelped at the shock, making her let go and pat my back instead. Was she taking no chances with me or...oh, I didn't understand this whole social thing at all...what was she being to me? The mare had cared, but Glimmerlight felt...different. I mean, yes, she cared, clearly...but with the mare something had connected in a way I'd never dreamed. With Glimmerlight, it felt more like an entirely new sensation...to get to know something. What was that? Why did I feel stronger around her? More confident in her presence after only knowing her for a few hours?

    If she noticed my thoughtful look, she didn't react. Instead, her eyes were fixated on the PipBuck screen as the system properly booted up.

    From behind us, there came a very sudden sound of pistons and moving metal. Half a second after it started, there was a sharp crunch of gears. 

    Both Glimmer and myself jumped in shock, as the dull mechanical sound suddenly shot through the room. Speakers above us on the ceiling buzzed loudly, creepily similar to Parasprites, before squealing loudly and failing. Biting my lip in fear, I saw the door to this blacked-out room jar and jump in its half-open housing before fizzing and sparking with blown fuses.

In the dead silence, we stared as Brimstone tapped it a few times before looking around outside. “Any idea, Glim?”

    She shrugged. “Guess it just jammed on an automatic shutting script from being open so long...the hell was with the speakers though?”

    I found myself gripping her with all four hooves in terror, somehow. “It didn’t sound nice…”

    Rubbing her forehead, Glimmer looked up at them, before settling down again.

    “Well...back...back in Bucklynn Cross, see? Sometimes the speakers announced a door was closing. Safety, y'know? Don't worry, broken systems always sound weird.”

    Glimmerlight sounded confident in her knowledge, if a little surprised, before she looked back at my PipBuck. Personally, I just wanted out. This place was filled with too many sudden sounds, dark corners, and unknown secrets. I knew they would be in here somewhere. Glimmerlight, meanwhile, just seemed to find solace and comfort in checking my PipBuck.

    “I thought that's all it was! All that was wrong was the matrix that controls the distribution of energy wasn't detecting the screen protector, so it disabled the visuals to protect...I dunno, the warranty or something? Just a little spark in the right place and  hello! Now you can properly navigate more than just the radio and audio diaries, I'll bet.”

    Giggling like a filly, she squeezed me tight enough to make me yelp in surprise, before bringing the screen up. Try as the fear did...somehow her laugh helped banish the dark demons I was imagining in the corners.

    “Now let's see what it has to offer, I'll run a basic diagnostic and see what it still has operating.”

    Controlled by magic, icons flickered and lists scrolled back and forth. I saw a little deformed picture of a pony with flashing lights and a sad face appear for just a second. Eventually, her horn's glow minimised in scale as the PipBuck lowered into my hooves. Illuminated by the glow of the active device, for the first time I began to properly feel a sense of ownership, rather than just carting around an odd radio that really belonged to Sundial. It was working for me! I could use it for...for...whatever PipBucks did! I could...I could...

    ...I couldn't read the words on the screen.

    All the excitement flowed right out of me as I slumped out of Glimmer's grasp and sighed. My eyes trained lazily on the unknown shapes and features. I tried hoofing a few dials and buttons. Sometimes a bit of light changed, but it was just all a mess of hidden secrets to my idiotic, uneducated and illiterate brain. The radio would have to do...and all it was still playing was Sapphire Shores. (A ghoul could sing better, I believed.)

    “Murky?”

    I just let out a deep breath and settled down on all fours before looking up at her in the flickering light. Glimmerlight clearly hadn't forgotten what I'd told her about my reading during my big rant earlier on.

    “I don’t think I can really use it…” I shook my head. “Can’t read what it says, it isn’t really mine, it used to belong to Sundial after all.”

    Glimmerlight swivelled on the chair, looking down at me with her hooves resting together. Then, she smiled.

    “You found it, Murky. Tech like this? It doesn't turn up every day. Don't feel that you're worthless to it. In my experience, rare artefacts choose the bearer as much as they choose it by carrying it with them. With all you've listened to stuff about the Stable Dweller, what did you call her...Littlepip? Didn't you hear about Lil' Mac?”

    Lil' who? I shook my head.

    “Littlepip's revolver? You must have missed that broadcast or something, I have an old wireless in the cells I got working on the signal before my sickness got too bad. She found that gun; one of the best, the DJ said. It's stuck with her through thick and thin, saving her life as many times as any companion or good luck. Yet I'll bet, from the description of that thing, she wouldn't be able to fire it from her mouth worth a damn. Does that mean she doesn't deserve it?”

    Glimmer's magic picked up the PipBuck and gently attached it to my right hoof with the whipcord.

    “I'm sure, wherever he is...Sundial would be proud somepony as gentle as you found it, Murky. Now come on, I'll read it for you. Do a rundown of the systems and see what he left you.”

    I didn't properly smile, just a little raising of the corners of my mouth. When had I last really smiled? When I caught out the Magister by taking his gun's battery? The helter-skelter? Littlepip's escape? It felt so hard, especially when the moment this PipBuck-induced train of thought ended and I remembered where I was. I lifted the PipBuck to allow Glimmerlight access.

    “Now, a little spark here...magical choice there...here we go! Basic runtime diagnostic.”

    The screen blanked and flowed a mass of singular sentence lines in a dark green that I found hard to even see, never mind read. Glimmerlight's eyes seemed to have no trouble, flitting to and fro as she muttered the results to herself.

    “Basic functions not intact...visual user interface active, as we know. Magical recognition set to manual only. Location tag is active, mapping spell has degraded. It's useless...damn. Location recognition spell is working though, just no map spell to overlay on. Radiation detection spells are corrupted. Probably only a huge level of rads would make it active...on full volume. Least it'll be a hell of a warning. Backlight on screen...oddly active, even though the screen wasn't. Spell fluctuating though, it probably doesn't stay constant...”

    Her voice was levelling, losing her confidence and spark as she became a fast-talking monotone, following line after line of code, text, and symbols.

    “Medical detection spells are completely gone. Stripped out, in fact. Organisation spell is gone too. Add-on port seems intact, maybe not too reliable though, it's rusted through. E.F.S. is just...gone. Somepony took the gem that powers it, cheeky thieving bastard. Radio is active, as you know. Huh...S.A.T.S. has one charge left, best save it for somepony who really deserves a good bucking. Why didn't these logs list all combat or utility spells together, by the way? Wouldn't that be easier? Poor show, Stable-Tec. Just, why not?”

    The last question was directed at me. I could do naught but shrug and mentally wonder if she felt the same way about it as I did about a lack of safety railings. An unbelievably petty yet all-so-important and easy to miss little thing that—

    There it was again. That strange feeling in my heart. One that felt like I should understand it more, when I felt like I related to that weird little pet peeve of hers.

I even realised I was briefly smiling, maybe she’d understand mine too, if I ever brought it up. Sharing it might even be...fun?

Shaking my head, confused and bewildered by the strange mixture of excitement and comfort, I began to realise something in my distraction. Where had the noises gone? I could hear the occasional shout now, far off and deadened by the thick walls of the Stable. They could be in the next room across and I'd not be able to hear them properly.

    That thought struck hard. I was lost in a Stable...with raiders...in complete blackness...oh Goddesses...

    Glimmerlight tapped my head, waking me from my stupor staring into the darkness.

    “Hey, I told you! None of that 'thinking about pre-war’ business, alright? I'll start telling you raunchy stories about my first wasteland bar crawl to distract you, if I have to. But here's something interesting to take your attention. You said this thing had diaries, there aren't any listed in the logs. They might be encrypted...but you accessed them. How?”

    “I didn't, it just...um...beeped?”

    Glimmer sat back on her haunches again, tapping a hoof on her chin in deep thought.

    “Where were you? Anywhere near magic sources that might set it off by accident?”

    “No...just on a control tower, a helter-skelter, and then in a bunker below the crater.”

    We sat in silence, staring at the curious device. I could only pretend I had an idea of what to ponder on. I watched Brimstone pulling old magazines on mechanics out of the lockers and stuffing them into his rather large saddlebags. Anything worth something went in.

Glimmerlight muttered as she thought, her hoof tapping on the workbench as though she'd lived here all her life. Perhaps it was familiar to her? I'd heard Steel Rangers used Stables as bases, had she once experienced life in a powered Stable? What had Littlepip done in hers? Probably a security mare, if she could fight that wel.! No sitting around in the dark for that action filly. That brought a smile to my face to help to help combat the terror. To imagine her here with me, giving me a tour of her home. Maybe I'd have a room to myself? With a double bed? What were rooms in Stables like?

    I sighed, they were probably grey and very cramped. The thought of being sealed down here still—

    No! No, no...not thinking about it, no thinking about pre-war! That's a route to a mental breakdown if I let myself think on it down here...

    “Aha! Location!” Glimmerlight shouted suddenly, her hoof shooting in the air. She seemed to shuffle on the spot in delight, like a small dance of celebration.

    “Huh?”

    “You were up high, then down low! Haha! I see it now! Your Sundial is a sneaky one, Murky, he set the diary to react to the PipBuck's locator spell when height from sea level changed dramatically up or down! That way he would know that the PipBuck could only play its contentsl if taken and moved, rather than just being handled accidentally or tumbling about over the years on the ground. It's why it didn't go off in here, because we haven't gone up or down levels yet. If we go down far enough we'd probably get another one to activate.”

    She grinned widely, leaning on the desk with a triumphant look.

“ It was so he could assure somepony would have it when his messages began. Wow...I need to remember that one, clever little buck...”

    My appreciation of Sundial knew no bounds as I looked at the glowing PipBuck on my leg. He had done something to ensure somepony...I...would only hear it when I had proven that I wanted to keep and travel with it? The system wasn't flawless, but it made sense.

    Perhaps, in the end, the PipBuck was meant for me after all. I had carried it through misery on the control tower, false happiness upon the helter-skelter, taken it into a desperate escape, and kept it safe through a horrid encounter in the crater in just a few short days. I had kept it with me, wearing it and protecting it in return for the moments of peace it allowed my fractured mind.

    Sundial's messages had been meant for somepony like me.

    Now I saw what Glimmerlight had meant. That items of significance had a way of finding the pony they were supposed to be with. This was my own PipBuck now. 

Trapped in forced labour to go into a dead Stable, that was at least something I could hold close and take strength in.

    Spending time flicking through my PipBuck's various pages with the buttons, I awaited Glimmerlight and Brimstone to finish their investigation of the room. Technically, I could have helped, but frankly, they would get on better without me freaking out if I found something upsetting. No, better sit in the corner and be a light source for the pair when they needed it.

    Their efforts were not particularly fruitful, finding basic tools that were worth nothing alongside empty containers meant for PipBuck tool spares, but apparently they had either been taken already, or never been filled. As much as I tried not to, I couldn't help but wonder why a Stable's PipBuck tech bay was so under-supported. Didn't every Stable dweller have a PipBuck?

    For that matter, where were the dwellers? Had they all escaped decades ago? Perhaps that was all that was wrong? The Stable had failed, so they left and lived happy lives in the wastes with no pain and...yeah, I wasn't fooling anypony. This place was going to be messed up. It couldn't have gotten this wrecked without some event.

    “Yes! Knew I'd find something! No Stable ever comes without somepony wanting to talk!”

    I looked up at Glimmer, delightedly holding a small device in her magic as she advanced. Brimstone had hung around the door, acting as a guard against any raiders wandering around. As far as he was concerned, the raiders were hostile, had already killed two slaves, and likely would do more if they felt they could get away with it. Thankfully, they seemed to have gone down a level, ignoring this quieter wing.

    Glimmer's device, floating in front of my PipBuck, didn't look like much. Just a little serrated circle on a small rounded casing with prongs that would fit into something. Grinning, she lifted my PipBuck.

    “Now we find out what life was like in this place. This is an audio recorder, Murky. They fit into things like PipBucks and thankfully, yours is intact enough to do it. Last Stable? One of these and a spare one in the repair bay gave me a passcode for the weapons locker. Was in and out in five minutes with no danger from the defences further in! So what say we take a listen?”

    “I'm not sure...”

    She clapped my back.

    “Hey, didn't Sundial help? Besides, if it helps let us know what we're facing here if anything is wrong, I'd like to know.”

    Sighing, I held out the PipBuck as she slotted the device in, hoofing one of the buttons before the audio began to kick in. I heard a young mare, bored and monotone.

    “They say we've only got a bunch of these recorders, but frankly I got little else to do in a day but complain and keep re-recording this message, so what the hell if I use one. It's been...ergh...a month, I think, since we got the call to come in here.”

    Brimstone waved from the door.

    “We can't stay here, the raiders know the location and we do have a quota to fill. If you two are going to listen, do it on the move.”

    Shrugging to me, Glimmerlight and I packed up what we could find and moved out after him. Brimstone took a route further into the facility, taking us past some old dead generators. One of them still hummed, I guessed some sort of back up, but otherwise nothing in here was active.

    “Really it's all just a battle to not think. We've got enough problems in here without languishing on what's outside. Roots said he heard somepony hammering on the Stable door after it locked. Bullshit, you'd never hear that inside here. No, all sterile and safe in Stable Ninety Three. Only it's not, fucking Ministries had to come romping all over this as well, didn't they? Now we've got Arcane scientists in the lower levels continuing all that weird stuff they did outside to cause this! I thought it was better us getting staff from the Ministry in here, smart ponies who could keep it running; but no! Now I'm just walking on metal boards not ten feet above fuck knows what messed up experiment! Oh they say it's safe, but ‘safe’ is what they told us megaspells would be!”

    Glimmerlight’s eyes went wide.

    “Ministry equipment downstairs? Brimstone! Stop!” Glimmer shouted as loud as she dared as soon as the recording played out to this point. She rushed up, clearly trying to convince Brimstone that the better loot for meeting quotas (and apparently, gaining favour on to Protégé's medical roster for exemplary slaves) was below us. The idea chilled my blood as I stared at the PipBuck and the floor beneath it.

    It continued to play as the two debated the issue.

    “So they just expect us to hurry up and wait, to just forget that every damn pony we ever loved or cared about is dead or dying out there. We can't even leave if we want, seismic activity suggests the megaspell that hit Filly brought a rockslide down over the entrance. So yeah, this is our lives now, whether we wanted it any different or not. The Overmare, Windy Vane, got replaced within a day by the Ministry staff. The new Overmare, damned if I can even remember her name, she's changing things. Taken all the PipBuck tools so I've got nothing to work with! Says all the PipBucks need to go to their labs for repair now. I tell ya...the lot of us up here? If we weren't so damn lucky to be alive, we'd be rebelling against this kind of second-rate treatment to those freaky sealed off areas.”

    The generator room widened out into a larger hub. Brimstone had, after some thought, agreed to Glimmer's idea, so we scurried along walls trying to find stairs down that weren't flooded. I couldn't grasp what this mare must have felt, being trapped inside this sterile shell without any knowledge of the outside world. Even I had at least seen the world outside of slavery, for as much as Fillydelphia was quickly becoming my entire life.

    It occurred to me that comparing my life to theirs was only a way to try and distract myself from the current situation. That wasn't a good path of thought to take...

    “Well, back to sitting around, reading the same porn mag for the fourth time today, and trying to work out why in the fuck the PA system keeps shorting out. Peace out, random future listeners...oh wait, peace failed. Happy Stable life.”

    The PipBuck audio tape clicked to a halt. With a sad look at Glimmerlight, I ejected it from my PipBuck and let it just drop into my bag. Only after glancing back up did I find the pair muttering between themselves.

    “Look, I know this place is different, but every staircase to the sublevels is flooded. If we're going down, we'll have to go to an entirely different area.”

    “Glim, the only other way is the atrium, where the others went. We're not going by the raiders.”

    The purple haired unicorn sighed, rolling her eyes and clearly eager for the long term benefit this could bring.

    “You're their warlord! Even if you don't rank it any more, they fear you! Tap into that raider side of you to get us past, give them a good talking—”

    “Glimmerlight!”

    I squeaked, only resuming watching after poking my head out from behind the nearby generator.

    “I will not take you and Murk, two recently sick ponies, through a raider base, however temporary!”

    To my amazement, Glimmerlight didn’t back down.

    “What would you prefer? Being shot for not meeting quota because this entire wing has been stripped by some crazy Arcane scientists two hundred years ago? Brim, we need to get down there before them!”

    Brimstone stopped and glared at her. Glimmer's back was to me, but I could only remember him saying how I had once looked like her when trying to convince him. Whatever it was she did with her expression, something must have gotten through to the big raider. With a mutter and a snort, Brimstone moved past us and began leading the way back to the main corridor the four raiders had gone down. Glimmerlight fell in step, indicating me to trot beside her. 

In those minutes trotting, I couldn't bear the silence.

    “Um...Glimmer? What do you think we'll find down there? Only I heard Stables were bad and—”

    “Don't think about it, Murky.” She tried to smile at me, but the oppressive atmosphere and her clear concentration lost much of her calming allure. “That message would have been overwritten if this Stable had survived very long. I doubt they'll have had a chance to finish anything, okay?”

    I fell slightly behind her as we squeezed past the generators into the side corridor following Brimstone. As much as she had tried to reassure me, I could only think about one thing she had forgotten. If it hadn't survived past the first generation...what was it that had killed the Stable and left this rusted and presumably empty corpse?

    If the atrium was to give any indication, it wouldn't be able to any longer. The raiders had seen to that.

    We had emerged on the balcony overlooking a central open plan room. I could see thick glass windows sectioning off many of the surrounding rooms to try and make it seem even bigger than it actually was. A small porthole window gazed down across it all. The room it was built into led to seemed to be accessible from the balcony, or mezzanine, that ran around all four sides of the atrium. Two staircases, one either side, led down into the main...courtyard? I guessed that to the the best term.

    But the activity within was what truly drew my attention. Among the flipped tables and chairs, all around the rusted remains of metal furniture and fallen scrap, the raiders had made their home for the next few hours during the operation. Piles of even vaguely useful items were collected in the middle, surrounded by an armed guard. Four of the toughest-looking raiders there were watching that loot, one missing a good chunk of his face and covered in scar tissue. He stood atop the pile with an almost comically old shotgun. Behind him, I fought to stifle a whine when I saw almost a dozen slaves held prisoner in a side room, their sacks emptied and stolen of all finds. Most of them showed fresh cuts and bruising.

    My appreciation of Brimstone and Glimmerlight allowing me to work with them rose high enough to almost make me forget the fact that once ponies had sat, ate, and presumably laughed here in this large area together. Now? It was just a temporary hell for those slaves caught by the raider clan amongst the dark depths of the Stable. I wondered if The Master encouraged this to keep them in line. Behave and obey, and there wouldn't be any guards during these raids.

    Brimstone bristled and growled, his hooves impatiently stomping on the ground as he too saw the plight of the other slaves. Glimmerlight just sighed and closed her eyes, and briefly appeared to shiver.

    She had forgiven life for her time as their prisoner to be sold into this city, but I suspected she didn’t forgive the raiders themselves. Even so, she had sought to stay happy and move on. Not for any riches could I have ever guessed how that was possible. How could somepony just forget so easily? What was her secret?

    “Protégé will hear of this. He won't stand for it.” Glimmerlight spoke quietly, beginning to creep around the balcony. Brimstone followed, with me bringing up the rear as quietly as I possibly could. Screams, slaps, and bitter laughter mixed with disgusting threats of violence. Brimstone cast his head over the edge very briefly to gauge their positions. Moving up, I hopped onto my hind legs to peek over the balcony again.

    “Hey, where'd the boss go, Edge?”

    “You know Barb, he'll be right behind you when you ask that. Nah, I think he went off to explore alone. Said some shit about the darkness being his domain in the depths or something.”

    The majority of the raiders were filtering in and out of the rooms, pouring sealed food and random tools or books onto the pile. Clearly they were interested in sheer volume and letting the slavers do the sorting. I could understand the feeling, just taking things and building your inventory was oddly satisfying. Tapping my goggles, I felt a little happy thought at my one small victory over Wicked Slit.

    Below me, the raiders spoke again.

    “Why's he going down there, then?”

    “Shit, Edge I don't know! He's the boss! Said he had to remind somepony of a deal or something.”

    Oh, crap.

    “Look, just get this stuff done before he comes back, you saw what he did to those other two, right? You wanting the same?”

    He pointed his hoof across. Naturally, my eyes followed long before I even thought about what I was doing.

    Seconds later I swivelled back on to the balcony, desperately trying to not throw up, and failing. Nothing came out. There was nothing to come out. My stomach, empty and shrinking, heaved and dryly retched. Staggering to the side, tears in my eyes ruined my vision as I fought to get rid of the sight. Barb was, well, messed up. More than that, he was...he was…

    “That’s fucked up…” Glimmer shook her head and voiced the word for me.

    “Taught him too well.” muttered Brimstone as he hopped down behind me. 

Coughing into my leg to try and dull the sound, I caught a look at Brim's eyes. When had he ever looked so old? I'd come to see him as a grown stallion owing to the way he moved and his muscular mass, but the more I saw the weathered life of pain and sadism he'd led reflected in those looks, the more aged he seemed. He had to be at least sixty years old. Half a century of raiding, murder, and strife lay at his hooves. That he had taught ponies to do...to do...that?

    “How could ponies do that?” I was whining, I didn't care. “He didn't have to! There's no reason!”

    Glimmerlight settled a hoof around me and she began to lead me toward the nearest staircase, down to sneak past the atrium ground floor and bypass the raiders entirely. Brimstone followed as gently as his colossal weight allowed.

    “Because he can. The wasteland gives us freedom, Murk. Freedom to be better...or freedom to do the things nopony would ever dream of. Just because we can. I once heard somepony say he felt the world before had become so twisted and brutal that the wasteland was an improvement.”

    Behind Brimstone there was a dire squeal as two raiders took offence at a slave refusing them. A strangled cry cut through the air. Brimstone visibly had to control himself.

    “If I met that buck now, I'd kill him for being such a fucking idiot.”

    “Keep those ears of yours peeled, Murky...you're a pretty handy asset down here, y'know?”

    We were on the same level as the raiders now.  The staircase had led to the back door of the canteen where Glimmerlight and myself were sneaking below the edge of the windows that opened into the atrium.  It felt wrong to go closer to the atrium, indeed the raiders were little more than ten feet away, but the door leading to the raiders themselves was jammed one foot from the ground on the atrium side, likely meaning they hadn’t worked their way in here yet. That, and it held all too big a chance of containing something to eat. We all direly needed it.  

Brimstone had elected to remain in the stairwell to 'ensure' nopony got behind us while we searched for any food.  What did Stable ponies eat anyway? I hoped it wasn't meat. Although carnivorous attitudes were common in the wasteland, I had never tried it (more out of neglect from my masters than choice) and I doubted the capability of my stomach to hold it.

    That said, I could feel my limbs shaking and my head beginning to ache from lack of food, and especially a lack of water.  Protégé's apple stew, which had rapidly become an icon of taste in my mind, was so long ago that my throat convulsed dryly at the mere thought of it again.  If it came down to it, I might not get much of a choice about trying meat or not, if that was all we found.

    “Hey!  Hey lads!  I got something!  YEAH! WE GOT SOMETHING!”

    The shout had made us freeze on the spot.  Cold shivers ran down my back as I tentatively raised my head, trying to use a little awareness of hearing to detect the direction of this 'discovery.' I could hear hooves rushing about, but they were all getting quieter.

Relatively pleased that they were heading to the far side of the atrium, I peeked my head up, hoping my dark coat and dull woollen fleece would be camouflage enough.  Glimmerlight stayed rested below me, biting her lip with a little worry for those other slaves.

    “What is it!?  Ere', give it ere'!”

    The majority of the raiders clustered around a small side room of the atrium, one beside the stairs on the far side.  Inside it seemed pretty office-like, perhaps some sort of...office. (Once again I felt it was rather obvious I hadn't a clue about Stable life...) The raiders were throwing a couple of old bags away, knocking captured slaves out of their way and intimidating others to lift their find out.

    A PipBuck.

    “Glimmer, take a look.” I whispered, lowering my head down so that only my goggle-covered eyes were peeking out above the bottom of the dull window.  I had donned the eye protectors a few minutes back for little reason, but somehow I felt more secure with them on, despite the lack of them really doing anything useful.  Glimmerlight instead crept along to the door leading out of the canteen and stuck her head under the corner to watch them.

    “One of those hoof things!  Shackles gave me a pass for him turning a blind eye last time I brought one in!  Yeah! I'm fuckin' ready with this!”

    Very quickly, I discovered how simply brutal life even as a raider was.  He had spoken too quickly, too eagerly, and the reward too loudly. Almost half a dozen raiders leapt on him, tearing at each other to get it.  (One mare's shriek of ‘MINE!’ made me almost whine from the sheer pitch.) Crowding into the small room, I saw the PipBuck yanked back and forth as snarls and curses filled the air.  Other raiders crowded nearby, cheering them on. Part of me recognised the chance. Noise cover! I could sneak about quicker and get food and explore, and yet I just stayed rock still.

    They terrified me.  Even if I’d wanted, I couldn’t I move my legs as I felt myself settle higher on the window.  Their unrestrained brutality and complete lack of sanity when the bloodlust set simply made me worry too much about doing anything to alert them at all. They saw something they wanted and they took it. 

 Alright, maybe I did that too sometimes...but they killed for it!  Shaking, I couldn't force myself to look away as blood splattered on the dirty office window pane of the office they fought in.  The PipBuck was almost forgotten as it fell to the ground, but I saw light shimmer from it as the device activated amongst hooves having crowded over it.

One raider leapt for it, the purple glow of the machine casting an odd haze across her as I saw a large stallion begin stamping on her head to get at it.  Even over the din, I heard the whine of something on the PipBuck starting up, before another, louder, and shockingly sudden sound screeched and tore its way into my ears.

    The door of the office slammed down vertically so hard on rusty and creaky gears that it severed the back leg of one pony trapped under it.

    Silence reigned for as long as it took the raider inside to start howling in pain.  The sound barely made it through the thick door. The raiders seemed stunned, before they beat at the doorway and glass.

    “Who closed that!?  Get it open! I'm Barb's next in line so I get the shiny!”

    “Why won't that damn thing open!  Hey, stop fucking around! Edge is bleeding out!  Hurry up!”

    The lights went out.  All of them.

    Darkness once again flooded my vision and the Stable fell into the void.  Trapped beneath ground with no light and a horrible growing whine through every wall and ceiling.  Gurgling, hissing, and static flooded my ears as I desperately held them to my head and whimpered. But the volume only increased until my headache soared and thumped.  Striking pains ran through my ears as warped and hideously electronic pony voices cried in shrill voices through broken speakers.    

    “Szzzreeee-ignal detected...depressurisation routine...a-a-a-a-a-AAAAAActive.”

    The slaves screamed.  Raiders swore and battered on the window.  I could hear the thumps of them ramming something heavy against it.  Threats, curses, and wails mixed with the electronic madness in the airwaves, but I understood so little.  All that was left in my vision was the purple glow illuminating the silhouettes of raiders and slaves howling in agony, spasming and jerking like marionettes as they collapsed below the window's height one by one.  Screaming, I turned and galloped straight into one of the metal tables, collapsing and crying out as I held my ears down. I couldn't see Glimmerlight. The mass of raiders were moving in a chaotic panic. Under the door, I could see some galloped into the darkness; into the unknown in blind terror.  Others frothed and beat on the doors.

    Even after the sound suddenly ceased, the noises kept ringing in my ears.  Even as the lights came back on, and I felt Brimstone Blitz dragging both me and the stunned Glimmerlight away, every joint ached from the muscle-stiffening fear.  Even as the raiders continued to shout at one another and throw blame, the office had gone eerily silent.

    Even as the door opened...nopony dared go in to retrieve the 'cursed' PipBuck.

    Within that room, they all lay dead.

    “What in the absolute fucking hell was that!?” Glimmerlight paced in circles around both Brimstone and myself after magically hurling her saddlebag on the ground in frustration.  We had retreated back out of the kitchen, past the stairwell and onto a lower floor to avoid the rightfully enraged raiders. Past a few open doors that we immediately avoided, there was another long hub, like some kind of meeting room.  Thick locked doors surrounded us but for one, open into a side room and the way out again back to the stairwell. Brimstone was standing impassively with that hard and practical thinking look, glancing around us, while Glimmerlight seemed somewhere between fear and bewilderment.

    Me?  I was huddled up and trying to fight the temptation to pull my fleece over my head and pretend I was back in my pigsty until I finally dropped dead of hunger.  Fright and shock still clung to my body. and I felt tense and shivery. Warped electronic droning and voices played again and again in my hearing like a spot of light that won't disappear from your eyes no matter how hard you blink.  I wanted out...so...so badly...I didn't want to die down here! Not like that!

    “Stables are screwed up, but that was like the thing actively went out to kill them!  What the hell is this place?  What could do that? What did it even do to them? It looked like they couldn’t breathe.”

    Brimstone watched her each time she moved around past him, eventually adding his own, calmer input.  I wondered what he had seen in those four other Stables. 

“Aye, something just doesn't feel right, even for a dead Stable.  Somehow, I doubt those idiots jumping around caused it. What was it the voice said?”

    I sat up, sniffling, mumbling quietly.  My voice was quieter than I could ever remember it, hoarse from screaming.  At least...I hoped it was from the screaming. I had only dared bring one of my RadAways with me as an emergency.

    “S-signal...detec...hnrk, detected, depressur...something.”

    “Signal?” Glimmerlight stopped dead, bringing a hoof to her chin.  “Wait...it activated after they turned on that PipBuck. But you turned yours on and—”

    Our eyes met immediately, gasping almost in tandem as simultaneous dread realisation set in.  That door back in the PipBuck repair facility. The buzzing speakers before the power shorted in that blacked-out room.  My PipBuck reactivating had been tracked and reacted to, just as the one in the office had. Only the power loss had saved us.  That device on my right hoof...it had almost killed me. It could still kill me! Scrambling, I tried to remember how to switch the power off, but what might make it do something to be 'tracked' again?  Oh Goddesses, would separating it from me do that!?

    “Turn it off!  Glimmer, turn it off!  Please!”

    I thrust it at her, it could bring this Stable down on us any second!  Taking a few quick breaths, Glimmer grabbed my hoof in both of hers as she sat back on her hind legs, sparking up her horn.  Clattering on the floor, Brimstone galloped and laid his hoof over it before Glimmer could make any magical contact. He quickly hoofed Glimmerlight back gently, looking back and forth with an unflinchingly serious face.  I could see he was beginning to sweat in the oddly hot depths down here...we all were. This place just didn't feel natural.

    “Control yerselves!  You're both scared, wee fears getting bigger because of what happened!  Think about it or you're going to get us killed. The Stable detected a PipBuck turning on, what makes you think it can't detect one turning off as well?”

    “I...I don't know...” Glimmer trotted back, running a hoof through her short mane as she tried to keep her head together.  “Well...it didn't detect us using the audio recorder. It must be tied into when the PipBuck itself does it. The recorders, this type anyway, I think they only draw power, not play through the PipBuck itself.  Just don't use the PipBuck...don't activate anything on it, alright?”

    I was shaking so much my legs were wobbling visibly and led to me having to keep trotting to either side to stay balanced.  This Stable was more than just a hole to the past now. It was alive, watching and waiting for a signal to pounce.  But why?  How!?  Glimmerlight was clearly thinking the same thing, settling down with her head in her hooves.

    “C'mon Glim...think think think,” she muttered. “Why would it do this?  Wouldn't take a magical computation core to do it, no, just...just reprogram the fire sensors maybe?  To scan for a different signal? Aargghh! I can't think straight down here! It's like being drunk but without all the happy times!  Brim, I don't care what you say about keeping me safe, minute we get back I am taking that nice tan buck in the far shop cell and I am going to spend the night with him.  I need something after all this.”

    She noted Brimstone's raised eyebrow.

    “He can't stop staring at my flank anyway!” She protested, as though justifying.

    “Aye, nothing to do with you lifting your tail by 'accident' when he's around.”

    Glimmerlight rolled her eyes. “Hey, I'm trapped in fucking Fillydelphia!  In case you hadn’t noticed, being happy is a pretty damn rare commodity in slavery! If I get some mare flank or buck work to help the times pass, then I'm going to take it.”

    “And that is different from your life outside Fillydelphia...how?”
   
    Brimstone’s voice didn’t raise once as he deadpanned the line. Glimmerlight startled back slightly, pouting.

    “I...well...okay, not much!  Look, I'm just annoyed, alright?  I tried to get away from underground bunkers holding back my life, and now another one is trying to kill me!  So I'm sorry if I seem a little on edge right now!”

    Her words were cut short as she flinched back and looked sharply behind us. I felt a crawling fear up my spine. I’d heard it too.

White noises flooded down the hallways we had just come from.  We heard distant clipped electronic voices layered with muffled screaming.  Twisting and echoing around us faintly, my own whimper of fear added to the terrible chorus. Somepony else had to have blundering into something that activated a 'signal.' Fading, the electronic white noise bounced from wall to wall lightly before being replaced by an ongoing background hum and the sporadic hissing of pipes from all around.

    “This place wants to kill us all...” I muttered, squeaking on 'kill' as my voice cracked.  

Glimmerlight turned quickly, grabbing me by the neck and looking me dead in the eyes.  The mare was terrified, just as I was, but she was stronger than I, more confident at keeping a level head, despite her frustrations.  All the same, although I heard her words...it was hard to concentrate and properly listen.

    “No!  It's not going to kill any of us!  Just keep your head, don't touch anything, and don't use your PipBuck!  The only thing we know is safe are those audio recorders. So...so we'll try and find a bunch of them...and...and then just get the hell out.  We'll take our chances with the slavers. You hear me, Murky?”

    I didn't, I couldn't.  I just kept jumping at each sudden hiss from behind a wall or above the ceiling.  Lights flickered still, not allowing me to get used to anything with my night sight.  It was just one ongoing claustrophobic and rusty metallic terror. No, it wasn't metal...it was organic.  The pipes and pumps were its veins, carrying the pressure, magic, and water to power the Stable. Somewhere the heart was deep down in the old labs and the mouth was what we had cantered right into.  Now it was just...just digesting...

    “Murky!  Snap out of it!”

    Glimmerlight shook me hard enough to get my attention through stint of my lash wounds aching at the sudden movement. Her blue eyes stared into mine, her hooves holding onto my head to keep me focused on her alone.

    “It's just a machine!  Scary, yes! But it's only doing what its been programmed to do by some idiot who didn't do things right!  The past is filled with mistakes...but that's all they are. Mistakes. Errors. Wrong calls. The past isn't bad, Murky, just...unfortunate.  But we need you in the present right now.”

    I stared at her azure eyes, somehow still sparkling with life even down here.  Why hadn't they just left me, anyway? I'd been nothing but a burden thus far. What made her keep wanting to help me?  Why not just go like everypony else...

    For once, I was almost glad that I had a natural tendency to follow instructions.  Nodding silently, I fell into trot behind her obediently, with my head lowered as I would to any master.  Glimmerlight seemed to hesitate, before cantering on toward Brimstone. I could hear him whisper quickly to her, presumably they hadn't accounted for how noise travelled down here to be audible to my unnatural hearing.

    “Murk's not right in the head, Glim.  See how he just followed because you told him to?”

    “Murky,” she corrected, “is just...hurt, Brim. Look what he did for us. He just needs somepony, it's like he's lost.  Was the Stable Dweller really that amazing to see and...inspire?”

    Brimstone made a neutral sound, before shrugging.

    “Aye...that she was.  Enough to make him take a run at the wall.  But he's lost that confidence, Shackles isn't going to let go of him.  He's got his chains in deep...”

    Glimmerlight went silent, casting only a periphery glance back to me with a sad smile (I turned away, pretending I hadn't heard...Brim had been so right) as we trotted slowly across the open area and around old metal desks.

Gradually, I began to realise this place was a school.  I could see small scraps of yellowed paper on some of them beside thin sticks of charcoal.  Not even really thinking about it, I started dumping many of them into my saddlebag. Up at the front on the teacher's desk, I could see a huge growth of mould that only afterwards I recognised as an apple after two hundred years.

    My mind ricocheted around as I tried to distract myself.  Thinking of what to draw when I got home or what these little symbols on the blackboard meant.  Why did they repeat so many times in the same line? Sighing, I turned away from it and came face to face with a drawing.

    Crayons.  I'd once owned a set as a foal until another slave had made me cry and stolen them.  The sense of loss hit bitterly as I stared at a picture of a few ponies. They weren't very good; foal drawings, probably, showing lots of multi-coloured ponies all happy together.  Below them everything had been coloured grey. It took a second, but eventually I realised that this was by foals who had been born after the door had sealed...who had never known for themselves that the ground had been green outside.  The first generation who wouldn't know the true green of Equestria for themselves.

    Sniffing, I peered closer as I heard Glimmerlight and Brimstone begin hauling open desks and searching for, presumably, recorders.  Probably best I didn't help...most likely I'd only mess something up and make them angry at me.

    Sitting back on my hind legs (the trembling of the floor from generators below this level making me squeak in surprise at the unexpected feeling on my backside) I leaned into the drawing, using the flickering light as best I could to view it.  Part of me was tempted to use my PipBuck light, it had been safe earlier, but right now I didn't want to even touch it.

    The ponies I had glimpsed were all lined up at the bottom, made of geometric shapes with scrawled colour between the shaky lines.  The foal who did this must have been very young, but it was so filled with smiles and innocent nature. If...if only he or she had known.  Sniffing again to try and hold it all in, I offered up a muttered prayer for their souls to Celestia and Luna above. Please let it have been quick, whatever happened.  Please not what I'd just seen and heard...

    Filling the rest of the picture were just two ponies though.  One small and one larger. The smaller, the foal presumably, was hugging into the larger, who had a hoof protectively around the other.

    Their mother...

    But she was ruined.  Water dampness had destroyed her likeness and wiped it clean of all the detail but for the general outline of a grown mare.  However, the foal seemed so safe with her...so happy. Just being there with the pony who brought you up, took care of you and helped you grow as best they could in a bad place like a Stable...or a slave pit.

    “Murky?”

    Glimmerlight had moved over to sit beside me, sharing my glance at the picture.

    “Is this why you're crying?”

    “Cr-crying?  I'm not...”

    I was.  I hadn't even noticed, but amidst all the fear and danger of the Stable I had missed the tears entirely as too regular a reaction.  A small damp patch before me on the floor was proof enough of that.

    “I just...the picture.  That foal had their mother there for them...until the end...”

    “You know, Murky...you never told me about your mother, other than what happened.” Her voice was incredibly gentle, quiet and still as I felt her hoof rub my back lightly.  “What was she like? I don't think you even said her name...”

    No...please, Glimmerlight...don't ask...

    “Maybe if...if you told me about her?  Got it off your chest?”

    Just stop, oh Goddesses, make her not ask...

    “So what was her name?  Was she nice?”

    “Yeah...nice...” I mumbled to the floor.

    “Mm...mothers often are.  Y'know, mine wanted me to be called 'Glimmerknight' if I became one. My father always joked I'd be Glimmerwrite if I became a scribe like him.” She chuckled, clearly trying to encourage me. “I told them I'd be Glimmerright-out-the-door if they tried to force me.  Heh, so, what's her name? Mines was Candy Floss. Yeah...a Paladin.”

    I mumbled something again, too quiet to be heard.

    “I'm sorry, what was that?”

    Again, I muttered it at the floor, creeping back and lowering my head a little before looking away.  My eyes were burning...I didn't want her looking.

    “Diiidn't quite catch that.” Glimmerlight bent down, trying to get a look in my eyes.

    “Nothing...” I muttered as I sat up again, wiping my eyes and gently touching the picture again.

    “Murky...what's wrong?  Is it embarrassing? Because I once knew a stallion called Buck Flank and well, you can't get much worse than that, right?”

    I didn't answer.  I silently begged her to stop asking. It was starting to make me remember, make me think about how I’d…

    I clenched my eyes shut and shook my head. I couldn’t. Not right now.

    “Alright...alright.” She spoke slowly. “I...I can see it’s pretty...y’know? I’ll give you a few moments, okay?”

    Glimmerlight seemed about to hug me again, but apparently thought better of it and left me alone with just a pat on the shoulder. She looked back a few times, concern and confusion on her face.

My eyes rested on the picture of a mother.  I'd...I'd come close to having to admit...no.

    Almost without thinking, I drew my journal and tore a page from it.  I bit a charcoal stick in my mouth and went to work. Lines became curves became shapes became...

    ...life...I wished.

    Taking some of the fallen adhesive on the floor, I tacked my own picture beside the foals.  Of my mother holding me and protecting me from the life I was about to inherit from my birth.  Mom was...Mom. That was all she had been to me in the short time I had known her.

    Come to think of it, the same went for this foal.  They had only known his or hers briefly before the Stable ended it all for them.  Without really knowing what I was doing, I placed my drawing beside the foal's on the wall.  I felt...right.

    Sucking up my sadness as best I could, I got to my hooves.

    “Sorry, Mom...I'm so sorry that I—”

    “Hey!  Murky! Get your tiny hiney over here, we got another recorder!”

    Biting my lip, I glanced at the picture one last time, struggling to shove back the truth in my mind, before turning and cantering away from it as fast as I could.

    Behind me, the two mothers held their foals.  They were always going to be their mothers. No matter what their children learned or forgot about their time with them.

    Clenching myself to gallop at top speed, I reached for the recorder button and hoofed it.

    Beep!

    All three of us stood and held our breath, but no alarms or messed-up electronic pony voices appeared.  It was as silent as the Stable could get.

    That alone terrified me.  If there were still two dozen slaves and raiders out there...why had they made no noise?

    Beep!

    Brimstone had found it in the side room.  Wandering in after the pair, I'd found them on a raised section of an odd office, one that had a small set of stairs leading into a lower floorspace about four feet down from where we were now. The lower level contained mouldy couches and a ton of spilled filing cabinets. Most curiously of all, I saw pottery lying either intact or smashed on all of the surfaces.  We stood on the higher section with a very official-looking desk. Beyond the sofas on the lowered section, there was another small door at the back with a terminal resting on the wall at the side, presumably for locking it.

    With Glimmerlight pushing up beside me to hear the quiet recording (I suspected to try and comfort me over earlier by being closer too) and Brimstone peering over my head, I felt a little on the spot as the recorder clicked and began to play.

    “What is that infernal beeping, Sandy Sculpt?”

    “I'm afraid it's just this recorder, Overmare.  It's one of those older types that have a weird beeping before, and I think after, any recordings are taken or heard.  Now, I suggest we skip past this and get to business now before the storage spell fills.”

    “Fine, whatever.  Now look here, Mister.  I don't care what the habitants of this Stable say, they are not getting any knowledge of the lab contents.  They are secretive under the Act of Ministry Intelligence Safety, as passed by her majesty Princess Luna on their formation.  So you cannot—”

    “Damn the regulations!  We're in a Stable! Have you seen any zebras!?  Everypony is terrified, Overmare. They are beginning to fear you're using them somehow, or creating weapons.  We all saw the light as Cloudsdale went down. We don't want weapons any more.  Which is why you should go public to them, allow access to tour, and show them that what you have isn't insidious or warlike.  Even if it's the Ministry of Arcane Science's secret hideout in a Stable for the future, we have a right to know!”

    “Yes, indeed, we are in a Stable, Sculpt.  A Stable that is within the lands of Equestria, broken or not.  As such, we abide by the instructions provided to me by Scootaloo and-”

    “The instructions provided to Beatbox, you mean.”

    “The instructions provided to any Overmare, if I may correct you.  My replacement of her was entirely routine based on my status within the Ministry of Arcane Science.  If you wish to replace me then simply wait for the next scheduled election in eight years.”

    “Bullshit, Ma'am!  You know as well as I the scientists will all vote for you, and they outnumber us!”

    “The wonders of democracy, my dear Sculpt.  Now I suggest you drop this.”

    “I will not.  Look, Ma'am...the people are restless.  They are afraid. If you don't throw them a bone they are going to end up looking for answers themselves.  Your reluctance to show them what is being done in their Stable, to take their PipBucks in for maintenance and reinstall half the electronic systems, fire detectors, and PA broadcasters?  That all adds up to one very dangerously speculating population. Hell, some of them complain of weird feelings that your scientists are showing off behaviour which isn't...consistent. They don't like them.”

    “If they threaten any of my scientists, I assure you there will be steps taken to defend ourselves.  We are no threat to you. Our research is peaceful, only secret because of the regulations. Just calm down and everything will be fine.  Normal residents of the Stable can go about their lives like in any other Stable. Now, I have important business to attend and you have a class to teach.”

    “Fine.  I will be back about this, Ma'am.  In the meantime, I need permission to access the maintenance lockers for more recorders.  The class are going to try them out to leave messages for the future about what it's like to grow up in a Stable.”

    “Granted.  The code is Twilight Sparkle.”

    “Typical...”

    “Watch your tone.  Have them back before tomorrow.”

    Glimmerlight was already scanning a wall.  I quickly realised it was a map of the Stable, showing each floor in detail of layout and description.  The floor plans two levels below us were completely blacked out.

    Glimmer traced a hoof over the routes, before smacking the map itself in joy.

    “Aha! I got it! There’s the route to those scientist areas!  Come on, Brim! Let's see if we can get that jammed door. If you can pry it open I'll try and work it out.”

    The pair of them cantered out of the office as I continued to listen.

    “I don't imagine you'll have a problem of this recording being public, Overmare?”

    “Not at all.  I tell nothing but the truth.  Tell the people they can relax.  We are no threat.”

    “Fine...they won't believe it, but fine.  Now if you excuse me I'm going to get back to my sculpting...as per the name, har har.”

    “You really aren't funny.”

    Beep!

    “Oh...that infernal beeping again. Sculpt?”

    “It just does it as the spell is running out, that's all.  If you listen back it'll beep for a bit then stop. Now goodbye, Overmare.”

    The audio ceased, only the beeping continued as the storage spell continued to stay active.  Lowering the PipBuck and breathing a sigh of relief, I glanced around Sandy Sculpt's workplace.  There were a dozen smashed clay pots around, small statues and a little revolving table in the lower segment.  I'd seen statues before, but never the process involved in making clay ones. Moving a little closer, I stepped down into the lower segment of the room.

    Beep!

    “Oh shut up...” I muttered, no wonder the Overmare had found this annoying.  But my eyes were drawn from art piece to art piece. Sculpt had lived up to his name for sure.  Even broken and degraded over time...these were incredible. There were ponies, dogs and even a huge dragon as tall as myself.  How I wished I had a big dragon like that to look out for me!

    Beep!

    Beep!

    Rolling my eyes, I fought the temptation to smack my PipBuck.  Idly, I wondered if Protégé would like one of the statues, before picking up a more complete one of a unicorn buck and gently placing it in my bag too.  Perhaps that would restore his faith in me, and give us an easy ride after having so much trouble with the haul.

    Beep!

    I sighed, willing that recorder to just stop. Snarling as best I could (not very well), I looked down at the recorder.

    “When are you going to stop playing you stupid piece of ju— huh?”

    The recorder had stopped.  In fact, it had stopped about a half minute ago.  I felt my face twist in horrified realisation...

    Beep!

    The PipBuck clicked and activated its own internal power source for the speaker.

    “Damn, thought this thing wasn't going to start again, Sundial here...”

    My body reacted before my mind even had time to function.  I galloped for the stairs back up to the door, not even hearing myself screaming for Glimmer and Brim!  My hooves skittered, fell, and got back up to try and dive for the-

    Screaming metal slammed down ahead of me, as the door to the office tore from its mountings and closed hard enough to make sparks leap up from the frame.

    “HELP!” I screamed, but I didn’t think anyone could hear me.

    Horror washed over me. I pushed at the door, but I might as well have been pushing a mountain. Every muscle in my body felt like it was clamping up in fear, more so when the speaker above the desk hummed, popped and broke into white noise. A clipped voice erupted out.

    “S-S-S-Signal deeeeEEEeetected!”

    Static washed into the room as every light on the floor cut immediately but for the glowing green of my PipBuck.  Whooshing pipes and humming generators kicked into action. Panic controlled my every emotion as I beat at the window, waving my glowing PipBuck. I saw Brimstone and Glimmerlight race toward me.

    Why had Sundial’s message activated!?  Then it struck me through all the panic.  My eyes turned back to the small four feet of stairs hidden in the darkness of the lower part of the room.  Glimmerlight's words echoed back to me. It had been controlled by height.

    I had gone down just far enough from normal levels.

    “Murk!” Brimstone's voice roared above the electronic filth the speakers were spraying into the room.  “Get away from the window!”

    “HELP ME!  PLEASE! PLEASE, BEFORE—”

    “De-De-Depressurisation...routine active-active-active-ACTIVE!”

    I screamed myself hoarse.  No words came out, just a long and terrified wail as I bucked and struck the thick glass.  I felt it shudder as Brimstone Blitz slammed one desk after another into the other side. The noise filled with a high-pitched hissing as the voices of dead ponies screamed clipped numbers and pressure values into the room through the PA system.

    A whining burst into the room as the air became deathly thin.  My face was soaking with tears as I tried to stay upright. Dizziness overtook me in the black void of darkness, leading me to stumble and fall.  Blasts of noise sent sears of pain through me. The volume increased and static washed into the room, immobilising me with soundwaves assaulting my sensitive ears.  My head felt like it was going to explode! My...my lungs...I couldn't breathe! Something in the ceiling was whistling as the depressurisation was carried out.

    A blue flare went off outside the window as Glimmerlight began tearing at the terminal and screaming something to Brimstone.  What was she doing? Was...was she...I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t get any air. My lungs burned, and I felt like my brain was swelling.

    I fell.  Hooves skittering, my head thumped off the ground hard enough for me to almost pass out from the impact.  My lungs struggled in their sickened state, before eventually falling back to small hiccups of motion.

    I lay there waiting for the unconscious state before death.  My vision blacked out as Glimmer's magic failed. I heard nothing but a loud ringing, as my hearing was overwhelmed completely.  I lay still.

And yet, just as the sickening sensations struck me they didn’t accelerate into the savage intensity that had killed the raiders. Half blinded, with my head thumping and my ears ringing, I simply lay there. Minutes passed, and I wondered why wasn't I dead yet.  Was the Stable taunting me? Giving me false hope that if I stood up the horror would continue? Oh Goddesses...just let it end now while it doesn't hurt any more...

    It didn't.  Instead I was left to simply lie and slowly breathe through raspy gasps.  Air had fed back in slowly, my skin felt tingly as the air pressure also began to return to normal, but all too ready to pounce if I moved.  I resolved to lie still, before the Stable thought I was alive to depressurise me again. Please just let me die quickly, I didn't want it to happen again!  Just...just play dead until it happens...

    Tnk!  Tnk! Tnk!

    I blinked, looking around through the blurring darkness.

    Tnk!  Tnk!

    The noise continued, a dull thumping that seemed so far away.  My head hurt...I had no balance as I lethargically swivelled around on the ground.

    “...urk...!”

    I’d heard a voice.  Darkness wobbled in the edges of my vision as I rolled about before finally spotting a blue star reflected through the glass. Focusing my vision, I finally saw it. Glimmerlight's illumination spell.  Brimstone was tapping the window hard enough to make enough sound to reach my damaged ears.

    “Murky!”

    In a rush, hearing returned fully.  Falling against the fence, I felt every joint scream in pain from the pressure changes and my panicked spasms on the ground.

    “Gli...Glimmer?” My voice barely squeaked out, sounding far away, like I was underwater.  A sneaking worry crept in that I had burst an eardrum from the sudden drop in pressure, evidenced by a constant crackling and painful thumping in my right ear.

    “Murky!  Listen to me, quickly!”

    “Glimmer...help me...” My voice was raw and dry.

    Her face screwed up with sadness.  Behind her the massive form of Brimstone loomed in the darkness, his harsh looks lit only by her magic.  Glimmer's hooves were up on the window, thumping to keep my attention every time I hazed and almost passed out again.

    “I blocked the signals of the depressurisation system to the room, Murky, it was in the fire response system! But this door won't open because of the pressure change safety protocols.  The door at the back, that's open. You have to go quickly, before the pressure sequence restarts!”

    It took some time for all that to process, I was still amazed to be alive!  Glimmerlight must have caught it and reversed it right on the threshold before unstoppable damage to my body had occurred. How long had I lay believing I was dying while they tried to get my attention?  Even so, I felt as sick as I ever had as my lungs ached from over-exertion in the low-air environment and every inch of skin tingled from...from whatever low pressure did to a pony. I genuinely wondered what it had done to me. I felt like I’d bathed in acid.

    “Murky, please, you have to go now!  I don't know how long this will hold the systems.”

    Glancing back, I saw the pitch black door leading out into the unknown, an entirely dark corridor behind this one into lower levels.  Trembling, I whined. Alone in the dark with little hearing, no, no...I couldn't deal with that! I...I just couldn't! Not in a Stable!

    “I can't!  Glimmer, I just...I'm so scared...”

    She was crying.  Actually crying as she pressed her face close to the thick glass.  I just wanted to lie down and curl up, rather than go into the dark on my own.  Into the past by myself.

    “I know, Murky.  I'm sorry...I'm so sorry!  We'll try and find you as fast as we can.  But...but you have to be brave! I know you can do it!”

    Everything welled up. I struck both my hooves on the window, clenching my teeth. I couldn’t look them in the eye.

    “You don't even know me!” I had to fight to not scream in hysterics, my ear was stinging on every noise.  “I'm not like that! I'm just a cowardly little slave...I don't even know what I've been doing since I failed!  The Master has me, I only followed Brimstone because he stopped them hurting me and I...I thought it was the only route I had left to maybe survive, find others and...I don't know how to be on my own! I can’t do this...”

    Pressing my forehead against the glass, I sniffed hard.  Small tears fell from my eyes onto the surface, where they trickled down like tiny drops of rain.

    Glimmerlight didn’t let me look away. She thumped the glass hard enough that it likely hurt her hoof.

    “Yes you can, Murky! Yes! You! Can!  You tried to escape Fillydelphia, and you almost made it!  Don't listen to all of them! Don’t listen to Shackles! You can do it, Murky.  You saved my life because you stood up to do it. You took a risk, and it ended up saving Brim, too. You’re more than you give yourself credit for!”

    Stomach clenching up, I looked away, eyes closed. “I just...I just..”

    “I know it's scary, hell, Murky. I'd be pissing myself if I didn't have you and Brim around.  I will try to find you down there, Murky.  Trust me, I will. We’re not going to abandon you after what you did for us.”

    Looking up, I saw her face. She forced a smile onto it.

    “I know what it's like to have everything seem to go wrong, for your hopes and dreams to come crashing down. I'm a slave too, remember?  But you have to find something to strive for, to keep going for.”

    In the end, I knew the truth. “I don't have anything...”

    “No, Murky.  You do...”

    In that moment, a flare of her magic caught my attention, as I looked up and into the loving eyes of my mother, holding me as a foal and assuring me it would all be fine.  Memories flooded back to me as I witnessed the picture I had drawn not ten minutes ago. The slaves had shoved me around and hurt my wings by pulling feathers. My masters had whipped me for being too weak to pull the carts.  But at the end of the day, there was always my mother waiting there, holding me gently and softly singing me to sleep...

    I staggered back as it all weighed down, before falling forward onto the glass, my eyes locked on the picture.  I...I missed her...truly missed her. I wanted to go back to my mother so badly. More than anything, I just wanted to see her again.  Forget Littlepip and everyone else, if I could just hug my mom one more time and let her know I was alive...that her little Murky Number Seven was still fighting for that freedom she dreamed he might have...

    Glimmerlight softly pressed her hoof over where mine was.

    “It's going to be hard, Murky.  Scary...dangerous...but never forget she is waiting for you.  I've heard you talk, watched you cry and listened as Brimstone told me what you've done.  About your sickness and everything else. You've been through so much; no wonder you're at wit’s end.  It won't be easy, but you need to keep going, Murky. Never, ever forget...she's out there waiting for you.”

    There was a pause as it all finally sunk in. Like a tiny light in the dark, it was something for me to reach out for. Something to hold.

    Something. That’s all I needed.

    “I'll try...”

    “That's all slaves like us us can ever do Murky...we'll come for you.  I promise.”

    Shivering, I nodded and turned my head to look behind me at the thick black and grey beyond the back door.  Terror clenched my heart, my ear was barely working, and every joint ached. Trotting backwards, I finally turned fully to the door and stood before it.  With one last longing glance backwards, I moved on. As I disappeared into the black, I heard Glimmerlight's parting words with my one good ear.

    “I've not known you more than a few hours, but we're going to stick together, all of us.  We need to in our kind of life. Take confidence in your friends, Murky, you've got some at last.  We will find you.  Good luck...”

    That was what I had been missing.  The thing that gave anyone the confidence to carry on.

    It was knowing someone else believed in you, even if you didn't believe in yourself.

    Now, as I descended into the dead Stable's bowels alone, I finally realised what that feeling was I’d been sensing since I met them.

    It was friendship.

    Footnote – Perk Attained!

    Confidence Boost – When you can't go it alone any longer, take strength in those around you to help bring that hidden courage of yours out to shine!  You gain +1 to Charisma.