Chapter Six: Wiped Out
“You’ve got to stand up and face your fears.”
Home is where the heart is. That’s what I’ve been told. That wherever you wander, your home is where you want to go when you’re lost. It’s the place where you rest your head and heart. Where your soul has a chance to recover. Where everything seems to be just the way it should be. However injured, tired or lonesome you are, home will make it all better.
What do you do when you lose your home? The Applejack’s Rangers had their home stolen by threat and necessity. Requiem’s home was destroyed by callousness and spite. Arsenal fell from the heavens and can no longer even reach her home. And my home was gone, lost to the mists of time and my own fogged memories. Or so I thought. Home is where the heart is, and your heart will always lead you back.
*** *** ***
Warm afternoon sun cascaded off jutting scrap metal. The great bulk of the Junkyard lay before us, broken and messy as ever. The faint, melodic buzzing of spritebots mixed with the sound of metal on metal from somewhere within the mass. The metallic tang of rust filled my nose as we approached. The whole yard seemed like it was within inches of collapsing on itself.
With a clear(er) mind, I could now see the signs around the edges of the yard. ‘Keep Out!’, ‘Danger: Robots!’ and ‘No Trespassers!’. Ancient signs faded with age and weather. A larger, more intricate, sign hung above the entrance to the yard. ‘Scrap Heap’s Repair Shop. We Take Custom Orders.’ had been spray painted over what was once a street sign and hung from a lamp post by chains.
The soft squeaking of wheels stopped as we reached the edge of the yard. For a moment I just stood in the warm sunlight, wings outstretched. Part of me wanted to just sit down and bask in the warm light. Soak in the joy of having an open sky above me. It was an impulse I had been fighting since we left the hospital yesterday morning. Part of me found it odd that such a simple thing could compel me so strongly. Another part of me protested that the open skies was the most important thing in the whole world. My thoughts drifted as I stared at the signs, not really seeing the words any more.
“You cannot seriously expect us to go in there, can you?” Frozen Fog’s voice cut through my distraction.
It took a moment to collect myself again, “Why not? It’s safe, there’s lots of supplies, it’s well defended.” I did my best to list off what I could think of which was positive.
“It’s full of killer robots.” Okay, that was a pretty good point, “Plus it’s the home of some mad mare.”
“Scraps isn’t mad! A little eccentric maybe, but not mad!” At least I was pretty sure she wasn’t mad.
“She builds killer robots. As a hobby. We’ve sent a few scout patrols out this way before. Every time they get shot at!” Fog’s recalcitrant position was beginning to irritate me.
I just groaned quietly, “She’s a nice mare who lives alone. Besides, she has an open shop, right? She’s got to know somepony!” Scraps was not a bad pony! Cautious maybe, but what I’d seen so far in the wastelands would make me cautious too!
Fog just chuckled, “Oh? And what did this ‘nice mare’ do when she met you?”
“... Shot me...” My response was quiet.
“You see? She’s crazy!”
“That’s hardly fair. You shot at me!”
“Girls. GIRLS!” Lilac’s voice drowned us both out, “If our new friend here thinks she can get this Scrap Heap to help us, we should at least let her try. If not, we’ll just have to find somewhere else to stay.”
Arsenal snickered in response, “Aw. You had to stop them? I was hoping he might make Aurora angry enough to actually try and kill him.” I hoped she didn’t really think I’d kill someone over a simple disagreement! “Maybe then he’d learn to keep his mouth shut.”
The wagon’s weight shifted as Arsenal leaped down from the back, trotting around in front of me, “Why don’t the three of us go in there and say hello? I’m sure she’s better company than some ponies.” I just groaned again as Arsenal began to remove my harness.
Fog cleared his throat, “We’ll wait here, then. Do try to come back in one piece. We don’t have the medical supplies to save your life again.” Arsenal pointedly ignored him.
Requiem leaped up onto my back as the last of the straps fell away, settling in between my still spread wings. I might have been able to suppress the urge to sunbathe, but I still wanted to soak up as much sun as I could. The soft warmth across my feathers was joyous.
A gentle breeze began to blow as the three of us entered the Junkyard. The soft squeaking of Scraps’ sign mixed with the myriad other small noises around us. Something about our approach to the shack which Scraps lived in felt wrong. A strange sense of peace and calmness.
“Where did all of this COME from!?” Ah, that was what it was. Relative silence, “There’s enough scrap here to outfit a small army!” Arsenal was staring at the piled heaps of junk around us. The jutting remains of broken Steel Ranger armor and scrapped robot parts mixed with sky carriages, refrigerators, ancient appliances and sheet metal in a collage of garbage seemingly without end.
I just shook my head, “Maybe you should ask Scraps when you meet her? I’m sure she’ll have a lot of questions for you, too.” I could think of a few as well, but now wasn’t the time to go prying into Arsenal’s past.
Scraps’ home was just as I’d left it. Constructed of a patchwork of salvaged metal. The multiple colors of corrosion and paint left on its components felt oddly appropriate for the mare which lived within. It wasn’t large, grand or beautiful, instead having a simple utilitarian enthusiasm to it. The care with which it had been constructed and maintained was clear even to my untrained eyes. It felt smaller standing outside than it was within, somehow.
Pressing on the door handle produced no results. Just a soft clattering and a refusal of the door to open. “That’s funny. It’s never been locked before.” Admittedly, I’d only ever had to open and close the door a few times. Usually Scraps had met me and let me in. But it was still strange. I could hear muffled voices inside, so I was fairly certain Scraps was awake. Why wouldn’t the door open?
A tap on the side of my head, followed by a short leg passing the side of my vision, drew my attention to a nearby sign. Requiem had spotted it before I had, painted onto part of the wall was ‘Deposit all weapons below. This means you!’ Just below it was a handle. I fought the urge to face-hoof again, somehow I seemed to miss all the most obvious things. I had to stop letting my mind wander off so much.
Pulling the handle opened a surprisingly spacious chute. Slowly I began unloading the weapons I was carrying into it. Minigun, hunting rifle, heavy revolver, broken shotgun, destroyed assault rifle, sawed off shotgun, light SMG, four grenades and a large knife. I wasn’t even certain where some of those weapons had come from. My thoughts strayed towards the destruction of the raiders, but only for a moment before I shoved it from my mind. No. Not thinking about it right now.
Finally all that was left was Tom. Slowly, carefully, I lowered the most beautiful missile launcher ever built into the chute. Part of me lamented having to part with it even briefly. Told me that there was something vital about it. Closing my eyes I let go of my magic, allowing the weapon to fall away. I had to speak to Scraps. To trust her that I’d get back what was mine.
Arsenal trotted up towards me while I was disarming. She let out a dismissive snort at the notice, “I am not handing over my only weapon to some unwashed muckdweller!” I had to suppress a laugh at her particular choice of words. If ever a pony could be described that way, it was Scraps.
A grin cracked my face despite my best efforts, “If you don’t want to meet her, you could always just wait here. I’m sure that all the killer robots will leave you alone just fine. There’s no way they would decide you were a threat when I’m not around.” Actually I had no idea whether they would or not. They had attacked me the moment I entered the junkyard, but I wasn’t exactly a normal pony.
A grimace passed over Arsenal’s face before she carefully deposited her magical energy rifle into the chute, “You’d better be right about her being trustworthy! That’s Enclave property! If I lose it the cost of replacement is coming out of my paychecks!” Paychecks? She was stranded in the wasteland, half starved, abused and locked up and her biggest concern is about her pay? For the second time in less than an hour I felt the intense desire to bury my face in my hooves.
The chute slammed closed. Again I pressed against the door’s latch, this time it opened easily. Time to meet Scraps, and hope she was in a good mood.
*** *** ***
“... You sure that’s al-” The ongoing conversation ended abruptly as I entered.
For a moment everything was silent. Two unfamiliar figures were inside Scraps’ shop. A dirt-brown earth pony with a darker brown mane and a large, heavily muscled griffin wearing black body armor. Both were now staring intently at me. Suddenly I felt very, very uncomfortable being right here. Was this how Requiem felt all the time?
The silence didn’t last. By reflex, the griffin reached for an empty holster at his side, his eyes going wide when his claw closed on nothing but open air. The earth pony let out a surprised shout, “ALICORN!” diving over the counter and tackling Scraps to the ground. Requiem squirmed her way up into my mane, making herself as invisible as she could manage for the moment.
With a screech the griffin leaped across the room towards me. Stuck in the door-frame, with Arsenal directly behind me, I did the only thing I could think of. A dark purple dome surrounded me as the griffin impacted the outside. Scrambling and clawing at it, cutting large grooves with his talons, in an attempt to reach me.
“Please stop...” my voice was barely audible over the commotion as Scraps wrestled with the other earth pony behind the counter. The sound of talons on my shield, not entirely unlike hooves on a chalkboard, screeched in the small room. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but right now it didn’t seem like I’d get out without it!
A loud groan came from behind me, “Will someone stop that racket!?” Arsenal wasn’t any more pleased by the outburst than I was. For a moment I considered backing out of the door, just running away. Part of me certainly thought that was the best answer, another part was concerned I might accidentally step on Arsenal if I couldn’t see her. I could teleport away, but that would just leave Arsenal and Requiem with no one between them and the angry griffin. Not an acceptable answer.
A blond hoof finally made it over the top of the counter. A moment later Scraps heaved herself up enough to be visible, “Will you kindly stop trying to murder my assistant!?” I did my best to give a friendly, reassuring smile. I’m pretty sure it was more of a disturbed grin, given the way the griffin stared at me as he backed away. “Thank you.” Scraps rummaged around under the counter before heaving the other pony out, “Now. Tumbleweed. You owe me fifteen caps.”
“I... What? I tried to save your life!” Tumbleweed’s answer made some sense to me. It wasn’t like he had any way of knowing I wasn’t the murderous sort. Didn’t make the part of me upset with being mistaken for a monster hurt any less, though.
Scraps silently put a hoof on his chin, turning his head across the counter. Until his gaze, and mine, landed upon a toppled Sparkle~Cola bottle, its contents having poured out across the counter and onto the floor, “You wasted my soda.” I couldn’t suppress a giggle at that, Scraps had her priorities. Tumbleweed groaned at that, before digging into one of his saddle bags for the caps.
I took the moment of peace to step inside the shop, doing my best to stay out of the way. Arsenal trotted in a moment later, surveying the area, before her gaze fell upon Scraps, “I didn’t expect it to be quite so... Literal.” She stared at the wasteland’s most filthy pony in disbelief. This time I couldn’t suppress a laugh. Nearly falling off my hooves as I finally broke down. Scraps just looked at me, then towards Arsenal, then back to me, saying nothing.
The sound of a throat clearing finally silenced my laughter. Tumbleweed spoke up again, “Now, about what we were discussing..?” giving a cautious glance towards me, “Not that I don’t trust your, ah, assistant, but I’d rather be on my way tonight. The winds of trade never stop blowing.”
Scraps waved a hoof in Tumbleweed’s direction, “You know the deal. Six hundred caps for the parts, five hundred for labor. Same as always.” she picked the almost empty bottle of Sparkle~Cola up, staring at the tiny bits of liquid left within a few long moments. The frown on her face and folded down ears were the only indications of how unhappy she was at the waste. Tipping back to drink the last few drops of it before tossing the bottle into a large bin filled with other empty bottles. What did she DO with all of them?
“Alright. At least I can count on you to be reliable.” Tumbleweed gave a friendly grin to Scraps, “I’ll go get the caps. You wait right here.” he trotted out the doorway. Where was he going to get the caps from? I hadn’t seen anything which looked out of place coming in. Then again I hadn’t really looked around very much, either.
Arsenal and the Griffin had taken to eyeing each other warily. Scraps had forced them both to disarm before entering, at least. But I did my best to stay between the two anyway, not wanting any kind of fight to break out here. The griffin at least seemed mostly under control, but Arsenal? She might whine him to death!
“So are you going to introduce me to your new friends?” Scraps was leaning on the counter, one hoof at her chin, “Pegasi are rather rare. Especially ones who still have their cutie marks. And the little one seems to have quite the curiosity. I wouldn’t open that if I were you.” Open what? I wasn’t opening anything. Then I spotted the bright red mane poking out near the large refrigerator behind the sales bench. When had Requiem gotten over there? And how had Scraps known where she was without looking away from me?
Arsenal beat me to the kick, as usual, “It’s very rude to ask a lady her name without giving one yourself. But I suppose I can indulge your uncultured ways,” I let out a groan, which Arsenal promptly ignored, waving a hoof at herself, “Arsenal. The one and only.” standing up straight and tall, and about as proud as a flightless pegasus could be.
Scraps just leaned on her hoof passively a long moment as she regarded Arsenal, “You certainly know how to find the most interesting friends, Aurora.” a grin spreading across her face, “With a name like that and your cutie mark you must be some kind of arcanotech expert, right? Maybe you can be my new assistant. My old one keeps breaking everything.” Hey! That wasn’t true! I hadn’t broken everything! Just... Most things.
A snort from Arsenal at that prospect, “As if I’d work for someone like you.” waving a hoof at Scraps, “So brutal as to carve up Steel Ranger armor just to make goggles. Hmph!” she turned her nose up and away at that.
Again a groan escaped my lips, Arsenal really was going to treat everypony she met like this, wasn’t she? Scraps just laughed at the response, her grin growing broader, “And just as arrogant as I’d expect from a cloudwalker.” she turned away, digging under the counter again a few moments before heaving the squirming, bucking mass of Requiem up, holding her at leg’s length to avoid being kicked, “And your other friend, here? She seems to be intent to search through everything I own.” setting Requiem down on the counter. The cloudy grey filly instantly rushed across the room to hide behind me, glaring at Scraps in irritation from being exposed.
“Silent Requiem. She’s... Shy.” Now that was an understatement if ever there was one, “She’s all that’s left from South-End Junction.” what else could I tell her? I didn’t even know who Requiem was beyond that. That thought filled me with sadness. What stories would she tell if she could?
The griffin guard responded to that before Scraps could, “A whole settlement just wiped out? That’s unusual. The town was pretty well defended, after all.” he looked up at me skeptically, “What happened to them?”
Shaking my head I answered the best I could, “Raiders from the ruins. Some group from a prison, I think. They won’t be bothering anypony else ever again.” I didn’t want to think about why, or what would have happened had I not done what I did.
Scraps’ grin had faded to a graven frown, as she listened to my answer, “I see.” she silenced the Griffin with a hoof wave, “If you’re sure that’s true, I believe you. I’m sure Tumbleweed will want to check it out anyway, so you’ll have plenty of time to confirm her story.”
“Check what out?” Tumbleweed had returned with three large bags loaded onto his flanks, trotting up to the counter to deposit all three, “Eleven hundred caps. Same price as usual. Are you sure you won’t give me a frequent buyer’s discount?”
Scraps began scooping the bags off the counter and depositing them somewhere below, “That is the frequent buyer’s discount. Usually I charge more for labor.” My own lack of knowledge about values in the wasteland was catching up to me, was eleven hundred caps a lot? I only had a few hundred to my name. Mostly those Requiem had found. “My assistant claims South-End Junction was wiped out by raiders. Must have been recent, this is the first I’ve heard about it.”
Tumbleweed’s eyebrows shot up, “Really?” turning his attention towards me again, “And you were there when it happened?” a stiff nod was the only answer I could manage, “Were there any survivors? They were one of the best trading stops on my route...”
I suppressed a groan, how many ponies out there in the wasteland had I let down? “Just one. Requiem.” looking down towards where Requiem was hiding amongst the waving mass of my tail, swallowing nervously. Did Tumbleweed know her too? Was I really the pony in her life who knew the least about her?
“Requiem?” Tumbleweed’s gaze followed mine to the mixture of grey and red amongst dark green and purple, the only sign she was there at all. Requiem backed away further, practically burying herself under the mass of my tail, “I... I see.” he went silent.
Had I said something wrong? I wasn’t sure. But before I could ask, Scraps broke in again, “This is just enough, Tumbleweed. Why don’t you go set up for the night in your usual spot. I’ll have it all finished for you before sunset. Assuming there’s no more unexpected interruptions.” Oh boy, did I have one of those.
Tumbleweed muttered something under his breath I didn’t catch, before calling to the guard, “Come on Giz, let’s leave the genius to her work.” for all his annoyance there was no sarcasm in his voice as he trotted out again, the griffin following after.
Arsenal stared at them as they left, whispering to me, “Did... Did he really pay in bottlecaps?” A nod was all I could give her, “Bottlecaps... Muckdwellers use bottlecaps as bits? This world really is crazy.”
Scraps cleared her throat, “Now. Aurora. You are aware you’re supposed to use guns to shoot your enemies, not club them to death, right?”
“Yes..?” That seemed like a silly question, of course you shot people with guns. They made lousy clubs.
A moment later the wasteland mechanic had dropped the broken, bent and cracked remains of an assault rifle onto the counter-top, “Would you care to explain what happened to this, then?”
Ouch, “I... Beat a pony to death with it?” A sheepish grin passed my face, heat radiating from my cheeks in a blush. “B-but the gun stopped working before I did!”
An irritated frown crossed Scraps’ face, “That would be because you bent the barrel and jammed a round in it.” she let out a sigh, rubbing her temple, “Unpack your things.”
“What? Why?” That was definitely the strangest request she’d made of me so far.
“Because in the time I’ve known you you’ve managed to break a PipBuck, scrap one of my guard robots, destroy at least three firearms and somehow managed to find THIS.” she heaved Tom up from under the counter, “A work of arcanotech and mechanical genius. As much art as weapon.” she ran a hoof along the pristine silver plating of the barrel, somehow managing not to leave any dirt on it, “Given the way you treat your things, I want to know what else you have.” she stood and trotted over to the fridge, pulling it open briefly to retrieve another Sparkle~Cola.
Arsenal just stared at me in disbelief at the mention of broken PipBucks. It wasn’t like I did it on purpose! I didn’t even remember how it happened! But I wasn’t going to argue with Scraps, beginning to unload everything from my saddlebags onto the counter. Several minutes later there was a wide collection of random junk sitting before Scraps, who was going over each piece slowly.
“Junk. Junk. A signed photograph of Rainbow Dash? Where in the world did you find that?” I opened my mouth to answer her, only for her to continue before I could, “A book? Planning to start a library?” she paused at the damaged tin from the radio station, “Mint-als. Haven’t seen any of those in a while. More junk. What’s this?” she poked at the small bundle tied up in a kerchief.
“That’s Requiem’s. Not for sale.” Scraps just continued on without further comment.
“Junk. Coffee Mug, could use a new one of those. The last one exploded. Here’s some advice, never attempt to heat Sparkle~Cola past the boiling point.” Somehow I didn’t want to know what would happen, “More junk. Hm?” she paused as she reached the audio recording, “A data tape?” picking it up and turning it over in her hooves, “Still intact and functional. I’ll give you a hundred caps for it.”
Part of me protested the idea of selling that tape. That it should be important to me. But I’d already heard what was on it, and it wasn’t a message to me or from me. At least I was pretty sure it wasn’t, “I... Guess that’s alright?”
Scraps dropped the recording into a bin behind the counter, coming back up a moment later with a stack of caps, “Here. If you find any more data tapes, bring them back here. I can always use more storage media. That PipBuck of yours should make copies of them anyway.” I levitated the pile of caps back into my bags.
Arsenal cleared her throat and poked my flank, “Don’t you think it’s about time you ask her?”
“Ask me what?” Scraps’ question echoed my thoughts perfect.
Arsenal groaned and rolled her eyes, “The thing you came all the way back here to talk to her about! Ugh. I swear, you’re worse than the filly is. At least she seems to be reasonably collected!”
What I came here to... Oh! Oh, right! This time I actually did bury my face in one of my hooves, “Scraps? Can you come outside for a few minutes? There’s something I want you to see...”
I stood up and headed towards the door before she even answered. Requiem quickly scrambling up on my back to resume hiding from Scraps. The earth pony followed somewhere behind me, “What could be so important out here? There’s nothing new in the yard...”
I lead her down the path towards the edge of the yard. Until she could clearly see the collected group of Applejack’s Rangers milling about outside the yard. Fog was berating one of the armored ponies about something, as Lilac looked on in mixed amusement. “Scraps. These are my friends. They need a place to stay. Can they move into the Junkyard?”
Scraps’ jaw nearly hit the ground at those words. I wish I had had a camera. The expression of total disbelief on the elderly mare’s face would have been a treasure to last a lifetime.
*** *** ***
“Are you crazy!?” I opened my mouth to answer, only to be suddenly silenced by Scraps’ hoof. My stomach lurched instantly, a foul, disgusting taste overpowering the remaining sweetness of breakfast this morning. “They can’t stay here!”
Fighting back tears, I raised a leg to force Scraps’ hoof from my mouth. It took all of my concentration not to vomit, instead sticking out my tongue at the most horrid taste in the entire wasteland. Even the rotting flesh of the radio station had been less unpleasant than that! Slowly, once my stomach stopped trying to flee my body, I managed to speak again, “Why... Not?”
Scraps didn’t seem to have noticed my discomfort, instead beginning to pace back and forth across the small workroom. It was just the two of us in here, she insisted on speaking with me about this alone. “Well, for one thing I don’t have the supplies to keep that many ponies healthy! There’s no good source of water anywhere in the Junkyard.”
That was a pretty good point, the Applejack’s Rangers only had enough supplies for about two weeks on their own. But where would they be able to go in two weeks? I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t going to leave them out in the cold either. “So... If I find a source of water, they can stay, right?”
The blond and blue mare paused in her pacing, “I... What?” she stomped her hooves in irritation, “I... But... You... They... They can’t!” This was strange. Scraps had openly offered the chance for me to stay here. Even offered the chance for Arsenal to remain as her assistant. The idea that she’d reject some ponies without reason was just bizarre.
“Why not?” It was a simple enough question. One which Scraps seemed to be intent on dancing around rather than answering.
Gritting her teeth, Scraps stomped her hooves again, “You... They... You... ARGH! Fine! If you can find a good source of water, I’ll consider it. If you can convince them to respect my rules.” she slumped noticeably against her workbench, leaning her forehooves across it, “But they have to build their own place to stay.” raising a hoof to wave at me, “You go talk to them. I’m not having some over-armed thugs take over my home!”
Was that really all it was? Scraps was afraid of the Applejack’s Rangers stealing her home out from under her? She faced up to me without worry before, but then I had been seriously injured and sedated at the time. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen Scraps actually fight anything. Not that much of anything came here anyway.
But, those terms seemed fair enough to me. I just had to hope they were fair enough for Frozen Fog to accept them. Maybe Lilac could convince him even if I couldn’t. “Alright. I’ll go talk to them.” plodding back through the waiting room and outside. Requiem squirmed away from Arsenal and rushed back to my side the moment I was out into the storefront. She was, if anything, more clingy today than normal. Maybe seeing Lilac that way had made her more cautious than before. I hoped not, she deserved a peaceful and positive life.
Arsenal trotted out behind me, silent for once. I was surprised she hadn’t complained about the idea of staying here in the junkyard. It seemed so odd, given how much she had griped about dirt before. Maybe it was just her love of machines getting the better of her? For as much as she talked, she hadn’t really said much about herself.
Outside things had changed just a bit. After Scraps dragged me back to her workshop the Applejack’s Rangers had continued their way into the yard. They were milling about near the three wagons, loaded down with medical technology and food supplies. Lilac was the first to react to my presence, turning her chair towards me with a hopeful smile, “So? What did she say? Can we stay?”
“Yes.” There was a rousing round of cheering and hoof stomps from the ponies both in and out of armor, “Provisionally.” That silenced things remarkably quickly. My heart sank slightly, the conditions weren’t hard. But they were conditions. “You’ll have to abide by her rules. That means no bringing weapons into her shop, no taking anything from the junkyard without payment, and no wandering into the areas she has marked off.” There was some quiet muttering between the ponies in armor at that, “You’ll also have to build your own housing.” That at least didn’t seem to be making things any more unacceptable than before, “And...” my voice sank to almost a whisper, “I’ll have to find a place to get fresh water.” That would be the real trick.
Frozen Fog tapped his chin with a hoof, before nodding, “We have supplies enough for three weeks with us. If you can find a source of water within a week, we’ll stay. Otherwise we move on to find somewhere else to settle.” The others mumbled quietly to one another, before slowly going silent. A soft sigh escaped my lips, one I hadn’t realized I was holding, at Fog’s decision to stay. Now all I had to do was find a source of water and things would be well under way.
“So where are you going to start looking?” Lilac’s question cut to the heart of the matter, in an almost painful way, “We were depending on the filtration spells in the hospital, supplemented with rain water, before. But out here, I doubt we could repeat that.”
Numbness spread over my heart and mind, at the magnitude of what I was undertaking. These ponies were depending on me for their livelihood, I had promised I would help however I could. But right now I wasn’t sure how I could help. My mouth opened autonomously to answer, but no words came.
Hooves clattered against sheet metal as Tumbleweed approached our impromptu gathering, “Hope I’m not interrupting.” His voice shocked me from my momentary unthinking state, “I couldn’t help but overhear you were looking for places to get water.” ‘Couldn’t help but overhear’? The Junkyard was a lot of things, but silent wasn’t one of them. Even I could tell he’d been eavesdropping on us. “Scraps is one of the best stops on my trading route. Not many get a chance to talk to her, and what she sells is top quality. So I owe her a lot over the years. Without her, I might not have joined up with Pasture Passages at all!”
“Just get to the point.” Arsenal’s typically over elaborate speech was punctual and simple this time. Surprising, to say the least. “If you have something you want to tell us, just spit it out.”
“Fine, fine. The way I see it you’ve got three real options to get water in this place.” the earth-colored pony tapped his hooves on the metal beneath us, “First, you set up something to gather the rain water. Something big, cover most of the yard, hope you get enough rainfall for everyone.”
Lilac cut in on that idea, “Unreliable. Even before the cloud cover was removed we couldn’t rely purely on that.” shaking her head, “No way we’d get enough rain now.” I had to agree with her. The idea of collecting purely rainwater was likely impossible in an area like this.
Tumbleweed nodded his agreement with Lilac, “Doubt it’d do you well. Too random. But worth mentioning. Second would be to head to Trotonto, meet with Deep Blue. Make a deal with Musinc to buy water. Problem is, he’d charge you a hoof and a tail for enough water to support an entire settlement. Charge you more if he has to do the shipping, too.” he tapped his chin with a forehoof, “He’s got a monopoly on water for the area. So he gets to charge whatever he wants, more or less. It’s reliable, but expensive.”
Great, that wouldn’t be good at all. “No way Scraps would be willing to pay to support you all.” My own input was about as down as everypony else’s, “What’s the third idea?”
That made the trader uncomfortable as he rubbed behind one of his ears with a hoof, “Well... The third one’s a long shot. There’s an old Stable, about two days travel from here, where you might be able to get ahold of the materials you need to make your own water.”
“An open Stable? That hasn’t been stripped by scavengers?” Frozen Fog’s voice was lined with disbelief, “You must be joking.”
“See. This is why it’s a long shot.” Tumbleweed tapped his hoof on the metal floor, “A lot of traders talk about where the Stable is. Say they’ve seen it. But I’ve never heard of anypony who went into the Stable ever coming out. Some who’ve been there say you can see shapes moving down inside. That it’s haunted, and the ghosts of the ponies who lived there will attack anyone who trespasses.”
A groan from Arsenal drew my attention, “Haunted? Do you muckdwellers really believe in that kind of thing? It’s probably just old and has some kind of local wildlife living in it.” she waved the idea off with a hoof, “Ghosts are just a silly story.” Yes, like zombies. Part of me wanted to point out how absurd it was to decline the idea something existed just because it didn’t fit her world-view. Another part of me insisted just like she did that ghosts didn’t exist.
A snort from Tumbleweed, “If you don’t want to know where the Stable is, just say so.”
Quickly I answered, “No, no. Anything is better than nothing.” giving a nervous smile. Whatever was in there, he was right that it was our best hope for finding a source of water, “Even if it’s a little dangerous.”
“Lemme see your PipBuck. I can show you where the place is on your map.” I raised my hoof without really thinking about it, showing him the automap which had already filled out with the beginnings of the area. A few moments later I had two new markers on it, “That one’s for Manestreet. There used to be a town around there, some good ponies still live in the surviving shops. You should be able to find somewhere safe to stay on your way towards the Stable there. Just tell them Tumbleweed sent you. The other’s for the Stable itself. It’s a long walk, but shouldn’t be too dangerous if you stick to the roads.”
Well, it was a start. Leaving the group, I trotted back across the Junkyard towards Scraps’ shack. She still had all my weapons. While traveling unarmed wasn’t unthinkable, part of me insisted that it was incredibly stupid when alternatives existed.
*** *** ***
Scraps was working on something by the time I returned to her workshop. As I sat down I could feel Requiem leap from my back, taking up a position behind and beside me. She seemed somewhat more at-ease than I had expected with Scraps. Especially after the way she was treated earlier.
“What did you do with my weapons?” It was a simple enough question. I couldn’t find them anywhere in the waiting room. Even Requiem hadn’t been able to find them again.
Scraps pointed towards one of the boxes in a corner with a hoof, “They’re in there. The functional ones, at least.” The large metal footlocker was tucked into a corner and half-buried under a pile of random scrap metal. What did she use all this stuff for, anyway?
A few moments of struggle to get the footlocker loose, another moment to undo the latches and I was in. The box was stuffed with weaponry. The minigun was missing, but that wasn’t too surprising, my PipBuck was throwing up warnings about it well before the end of our fight in the sewers. More surprisingly, Tom was missing.
Whirling on my hooves I stormed up towards Scraps, “What did you do with Tom?”
“Tom?” Scraps raised her head from whatever it was she was working on, eyes hidden behind her thick black goggles like always, “You mean that missile launcher you brought in with you?” Well, at least she wasn’t going to try and deny she had it.
“Yes. That Tom. What happened to him?” I resisted gritting my teeth, fighting down the part of me which wanted to grab Scraps and shake her until he fell out of her.
Scraps’ face twisted into a frown, “You’re not seriously going to take that masterpiece with you, are you? I’ve seen what you do to weapons.” she turned her head pointedly towards the wrecked remains of an assault rifle, “Just leave Tom with me, it’ll be safe here.”
My mind began to seethe at the thought of leaving Tom behind. I couldn’t place why, but there was no way I was leaving that gift from the past behind. Without thinking I shoved my muzzle in close enough to be almost nose to nose with Scraps, close enough to see my dark red, slitted eyes reflected back at me, “What did you do with Tom?”
Rearing backwards, Scraps clopped her hooves back and forth against the edge of the table, “Mmmmf. Fine. If it really means that much to you, I’ll go get it.” she leaped from her chair, trotting over towards one of the large lockers in the corner, “I swear, you’re like the filly I never had. Always so insistent and not willing to take ‘no’ for an answer.” she pulled the locker open and leaned into it, beginning to search through the contents, “No. No. Where did I get that? No. I thought I sold that. A waffle iron? Why is there a waffle iron in here?”
Part of me was insulted by the idea that I acted particularly spoiled. But a much larger part of me was too pleased with getting my way and getting back something which mattered to care. The door creaked quietly as Scraps finally came back up with Tom in her hooves, “Ah, here we are!” In a few moments she had closed the locker again and returned to the work bench, carefully setting Tom down on it, “Now, you’d better take good care of this! If you break it, I’m not giving it back again, understand?” Break Tom? Somehow that idea was unacceptably horrible to me. There was no way I could break something as perfect as Tom. I just nodded my head and levitated my prize from the table, gently returning him to my side.
“I do hope you weren’t planning to leave without me.” A familiar voice from the doorway, Arsenal standing just inside the workshop, “I’d hate to think I had spent so much effort getting this,” she nudged a mass of brown and red cloth by her hooves, “Just for it to go to waste!”
Truthfully I hadn’t expected Arsenal would want to come with me. Not after how she had reacted to the sewers. “Why would-?”
“Do you know how to shut down and remove a water talisman without damaging it?” Okay, that was a good point, “I didn’t think so.” the dark red pegasus grabbed the mass of cloth in her mouth and trotted up to Scraps’ work bench, dropping it on the edge, “Now, Scraps dear, I don’t suppose I could trouble you to armor this for me. Could I?” That was surprising, Arsenal actually asking another pony to do something for her? Without insults?
A groan passed Scraps’ mouth at the prospect, “I’m never going to get anything done again, am I?” She stared at the mass of cloth, “Where did you get Steel Ranger scribe robes, anyway? They don’t usually part with something like that...”
Arsenal reached up with a hoof to briefly puff her own mane, eyes closed and muzzle high, “You might not be used to it. But some of us understand how to be a proper lady.”
Something about the way Arsenal said those words wrenched at my heart, only for some part of me to throw forth the image of Arsenal trying to seduce Frozen Fog. I couldn’t suppress a laugh at the prospect, “Fog gave it to you to get you to go away, didn’t he?”
The change in Arsenal’s look was instant, her pride fading into an irritated slump, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Even Scraps couldn’t suppress a laugh at that reaction.
“Oh, there’s no need to be so shy about it. I’m certain a proper lady would be more than happy to get gifts from their coltfriend.” Scraps was already gathering up the robe and inspecting it, “Yes, I think I know what I can do with this. It won’t take long.” hauling the robe over to the center of her work bench, “Shoo, shoo. I’ll bring it out to you when it’s done.” she waved the three of us out of her work area, “No crowding my work space!”
By the time the three of us made it back into the other room Arsenal was slumping low against the ground. Even Requiem was aware of how unhappy she was, it seemed, as the filly trotted up to her side to give a gentle nuzzle to the pegasus’ leg. I considered asking Arsenal what was wrong, but given her actions in the past I doubted it would do any good.
It wasn’t long before Scraps forced the door open, brown and red robe in her mouth. A few moments later, Arsenal was fully clothed. The robe didn’t have any openings to allow her wings out, and while wearing it she could have easily passed for an earth pony. The dark red material was offset by metal plates, the whole assembly worn over a brown under-coat.
For a moment the room was relatively silent, before Arsenal rubbed at her chest with a hoof, “Ugh. Itchy. But... It’ll do.” she looked back over her torso, “Covering my wings feels so constricting.”
Scraps cut in on that point, “A lot of ponies down here still don’t trust pegasi. Guess that’s what happens when you start a war.” her voice was flat and level, without a hint of amusement or mockery, “Better if you not show off.”
The slump from before returned, and more. Even I understood that Scraps was right. Truthfully if there were any way I could disguise what I was, I would gladly do so. Not getting shot at upon entering a settlement would be a wonderfully refreshing change of pace.
“I guess it’s time we set out.” It was true, we had everything we needed now. Stepping towards the door, I paused, the lingering taste in the back of my mouth a reminder, “And when we get back, I’m giving you a bath.” shoving the door open I left before Scraps had a chance to answer me.
The three of us trotted down through the junkyard. The Applejack’s Rangers had already begun working on constructing a place to stay. Hauling sheet metal across the yard, to begin setting up a temporary house until they could make something more permanent. The walk across the yard was long and slow, as my mind churned with what I was about to do.
Finally we came within sight of the edge of the junkyard. Beside me I could feel Requiem’s presence, barely a hoof’s breadth away from me. I dropped a hoof directly in her path, forcing her to stop moving, “Requiem.” my heart sank, as I spoke words which cut me inside, “I want you to stay here.” my veins ran cold, “It’s safe here.” frigid feelings ran up my spine with each word, “There’s food and will be water.” my voice felt hoarse and painful to utter another word, “Scraps can look after you.” my heart felt like somepony was using it for bucking practice.
Silence filled the area around us. No snark from Arsenal, no sound from Requiem, only the fear she might hate me for my choice. Requiem sank to the ground. I could barely see her out of the edge of my vision. Gradually she turned, very slowly beginning to walk away from me back towards the center of the yard.
Slowly I began to walk away again. My legs ached under me, my head pounded. The chorus raged, protested and made unreasonable demands. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to throw those thoughts away, no matter how many times they returned. This was the right thing to do. This was for her benefit. It was what was best for her. So why, why did it hurt so much?
*** *** ***
The day was long and quiet. Arsenal protested occasionally about her discomfort, but I paid little attention. My thoughts kept drifting back towards Requiem as we walked. It was strange, as quiet and unobserved as she was most of the time her absence still ground against the edges of perception. The odd lack of her weight on my back, the lack of concern about where I put my hooves.
Parts of me were glad she wasn’t there, a liberating feeling of not having to worry after her. Most of me protested that I had left her alone, told me to turn around, to run back to the yard. To apologize, to do better for her. For hours those parts of my mind chased each other in silence, my feelings sinking and rising in a rhythmic beat.
The warmth of the sun against my coat and feathers was a distant comfort. A steadying feeling from far away, which said I had made the right choice. That I had given her the chance she deserved. That voice was quiet and far away, almost drowned entirely by my doubts. As the sun began to set, the sky growing dark as distant twinkling lights returned to the heavens, that warmth faded from me and the voice died with it.
We made a small camp, not far from the broken remains of the road we were following. As we walked I had barely seen the world around me. Drifting across the broken pavement in my turmoil without concern. Now that we were stopped it was little better. The world beyond the light cast by our campfire was dull and dim, pained and distant.
Arsenal was talking about something, but I wasn’t listening. She had been for most of the day, something about the state of the world, complaints about her discomfort. Parts of me wanted her to be silent, but more of me was comforted by the voice. Even if she was annoying at times, the thought of traveling alone was crushing. Something about going back to that way of life was beyond me.
Cold, hard rocks beneath me. Dark, empty skies above. The warmth of the firelight was all that remained to give me comfort. I stared into that fire, watching it dance and lick the air, the wood within gradually falling apart. Sparks twirled and burned in the air, leaving trails in my vision. My mind was empty, consumed purely by my own complaints. I lost all track of time, until Arsenal’s voice died from nearby. She had gone to sleep.
Something about all this felt terribly wrong. Digging the ancient book from my bags I set it down, staring at the closed cover. On any other night I would open it, read a story, and lose myself to the legends of the past. Let those stories carry me away, comfort the part of me which remembered them. Tonight, for the first time since I found it, I didn’t want to read. It felt wrong to read a story without Requiem to hear it.
My heart clenched at that thought. Slowly sinking to the ground with the book in my hooves. Desperate for something, anything, to distract me from the conflict in my mind I began to search through my PipBuck. Radio stations. Only two of them it seemed, desperate for something to listen to I flicked one on at random. Soft, smooth jazz filled my ears. Quiet, sad and beautiful. The music mixed with a soft static hum, white noise to wash away the remnants of thought from my mind.
As I lay, drifting on the edges of sleep, the music faded. A deep, smooth voice echoed in my ears. “Hello out there Wasteland. Tonight’s broadcast goes out to all those lost souls who have left someone behind. Here’s a little something from a Wasteland Heroine, reminding you that maybe tomorrow will be a better day.” Lost souls who had left someone behind? Part of me wondered if someone was spying on me, but that seemed completely absurd. There was no way a radio station could be broadcasting just to me.
Another voice, this one distinctly feminine, rose towards the surface, “You’re listening to the adventures of me, Argyle Stockings, and my stalwart ghoul mareservant Xyra! Today’s episode: Big Trouble in Baltimare!” I wasn’t paying much attention to the voice in my ear, slowly allowing my mind to drift away. Falling into darkness.
*** *** ***
The vast shadows of billboards darkened the horizon long before we reached Manestreet. Shattered pavement and broken highways surrounded this tiny piece of civilization. The road we walked jutted and twisted beneath our hooves, littered with the broken remains of carriages from long ago. There were no skeletons here. Maybe the inhabitants of Manestreet had cleaned them away.
As we approached the town the billboards came fully into view. Two were the same posters I had already seen. One a vast version of the recruitment poster from the Ministry of Peace hospital, the other the same advertisement for the Ministry of Technology. The surfaces of the billboards were cracked, stained with age and weather. It felt like a miracle that they were still standing at all.
The third was one I hadn’t seen before, standing high up near the broken remains of a highway. The image of a grey pegasus with a blond mane drinking from a bottle of rainbow-colored liquid covered much of the surface. Her mane stood out at odd angles and tiny electrical bolts had been drawn around her. Even the way her eyes looked off in two different directions suited the image. ‘Try new Sparkle~Cola Rainbow Crash. Made with REAL Zap Apples! A charge in every bottle!’ Something about the image stirred distant, comforting feelings.
Slowly we continued onwards, Arsenal surprisingly quiet today. Perhaps the horror of what had happened to the ponies who were once on this road was sinking in. Or maybe she was finally going hoarse from all her talking. Whatever the case, small miracles were always welcome. As I watched her, she paused to rub her hoof against her chest again, scratching at the itches from her new armor. It made me wonder if those black carapaces I had seen pegasi in before were somehow more comfortable.
The terrain surrounding us transformed abruptly. The outskirts of what had once been a town. Perhaps not as grand as the city where the hospital or Central Junction were built, but a town. Shattered remains of houses, long ago collapsed from age and damage, stretched out around us. In the distance a great shape jutted up towards the heavens, glinting in the late morning sunlight. The town of Manestreet, built amongst the collapsed ruins of the old world.
Great metal towers jutted from the tops of ancient buildings. Joining together far above the town. Salvaged billboards and dismantled chariots mixed colors with rusted metal. The whole construction was enormous, like some great roof built onto the world. Protection from the elements, and perhaps more.
How had they built something like that? And why? The prospect of some threat from the sky so great that they felt the need to armor their entire town was horrifying. But my mind couldn’t think of any other reason they would have done so. Maybe I could ask someone in town?
Come to think of it, where were those in town? There was no movement amongst the ruins that I could see. Were they hiding from my approach? That seemed unlikely, to me. So far most ponies had been more willing to threaten me than run from me. Parts of my mind began to warn me away from the town, told me to turn and run. Told me that being anywhere other than here was the best idea.
Still, my curiosity got the better of me and I pressed onwards. Passing the outer edges of the vast construct. Shade against the sun covered the entire interior in darkness. Shafts of light falling from far above to light a central square. A podium had once sat there, now fallen to the side, cracked and broken. Scattered bottles and cans, some of them still half-full, were spread across the large area of open pavement. There were no bodies nor signs of life.
As I approached the center of the town a distant, sorrowful moan ran through the air. At first I thought I was only imagining it, until Arsenal spoke up, “Did you hear that?” I just nodded slowly, a chill running up my spine, “What was that? You don’t suppose this place is actually haunted or something, do you?” Haunted? Part of me insisted that was absurd, after all ghosts weren’t real. Another part of me told me that I should be careful anyway. Even if ghosts weren’t real, there was plenty of unknown things out here in the wasteland.
“I don’t know.” It was an honest answer, but not the one which Arsenal wanted to hear as she moved closer by my side. Turning in place, the whole town looked strangely intact. Part of me insisted that that ruled out a raider attack. There was no signs of looting or damage to the town itself. It was like everypony here had just vanished into thin air.
A quick glance to my EFS showed hostile markers all around us. Was this some kind of trap? A quick scan of the area again still didn’t show me any signs of anything alive nearby. Cautiously I levitated the sawed off shotgun from my saddle bags, purple shield shimmering into existence around me, “Come on Arsenal... There’s something very wrong here.” trotting towards one of the nearby buildings.
“You can’t be serious! This place is full of who knows what. And there’s no ponies here. We should just move onwards.” Arsenal’s advice wasn’t completely unfounded. Parts of me certainly agreed with her. But this place was... Wrong. I couldn’t just walk away from that now.
I wanted to know what had happened here, even if parts of me insisted it was a stupid and terrible idea. This place had had ponies living in it not long ago. Ponies shouldn’t just disappear into thin air! There should be skeletons, corpses, damage, ammunition. Something had to be left behind to tell me what happened here! A low, sorrowful moan passed through the whole town again, so deep and long that it vibrated in my bones. Another chill ran down my spine as I grabbed the door of a nearby building with my magic and shoved it open.
*** *** ***
The third building opened with a creak. The first two had been empty houses, still furnished without any sign of destruction. It was bizarre, there was no sign of anypony living here, but at the same time no sign of what had killed them. My EFS was still filled with red, every building seemed to contain more blips. Yet there was still no obvious movement. I hadn’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.
A low moaning howl filled the town again. Chills ran up my spine. What was making that noise? There wasn’t anything here! Slowly I pushed onwards into the building, the dark purple light of my shield contrasting against the pale yellow filling the room. The room was filled with tables, some overturned but most upright. Scattered bottles littered the floor, many sitting in pools of their own contents.
Slowly I pushed my way through the room. Red markers swam around me, but still no sign of anything actually hostile. Sawed off shotgun floating not far beyond my shield, Arsenal practically pressed against it on the other side, “Can we please leave? This place is dead.” Parts of me agreed with her. This place was definitely dead. But more of me wanted to know why.
The rear of the room was dominated by a massive counter, a door behind it leading somewhere further inside. Climbing up over the bar I answered Arsenal as simply as I could, “I just want to know what happened here. Towns aren’t supposed to just disappear like this.” At least, most of me was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to.
The creak of the the swing door on the side of the bar denoted Arsenal following me, “In a world like this? Are you sure?” Well, I was mostly sure. I’d seen raiders destroy a town before, but they hadn’t left the place nearly this clean.
Shoving the rear door open, my vision was filled with racks of bottles and boxes. Food and drink, matching with the main room. This had once been an eatery, the massive stacks of preserved foods and bottled drinks were their stock. But still no sign of anypony alive.
The moment I was through the door Arsenal followed me. She didn’t even hesitate to begin grabbing things off the shelves and stuffing them in her bags. For a moment I watched her in disbelief, “What are you doing?” I’d seen her willing to scavenge food from others before, but at the time she was sick and starved. While she still might not be in the best physical condition at the moment, she certainly wasn’t short on food.
My winged companion didn’t even look up from the shelves, “Making sure I have enough to eat. I am not going to eat whatever you can scavenge for us.” I had to admit the idea of eating more of the wonderful confections Arsenal had picked for me in the hospital was alluring. Even just watching her stuff them in her bags made me long for that feeling. The warm, invigorating weight in my stomach, the wonderful tingle in my mouth. Especially after the horrid experience yesterday with Scraps’ hooves. Maybe if I just took one bite.
*CRASH!*
The sound of glass on hard wood filled the room, followed by a dull rolling. A bottle, filled with brilliant rainbow-colored liquid rolled across the floor, clinking to a halt on the outside of my shield. ‘Sparkle~Cola Rainbow Crash!’ was written in large friendly letters across the outside. I levitated it off the ground, wondering where it had come from. A brief glance to Arsenal told me she hadn’t dropped it. That meant someone, or something, else was in here.
Without thinking I tucked the bottle into one of my saddle bags. My heart raced as I rushed across the room. A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye, something darting between shelves. Two more bottles scattered onto the floor, before it rushed towards the doorway.
In an instant I was off after it, smashing into one of the shelves as I rushed towards the door, sending dozens of bottles crashing down to shatter all over the storage room. Arsenal let out a surprised yelp at my sudden outburst, “You’re wasting all the food!” that was what she was worried about right now?
The flash of motion stayed away from my vision with remarkable skill. In a moment it had doubled back, rushing up a nearby staircase. My hooves thundered over the counter top and across the room, smashing one of the bottles on the floor to pieces as I passed. It barely even registered upon me, except that my hoof was suddenly sticky and uncomfortable.
Up the stairs, across the hallway. The motion squirmed through a small gap near the bottom of a doorway near the end of the hall. Now was the chance to slow down, my heart beating painfully fast as I approached where it had vanished. My sawed off shotgun floated freely at my side. A quick shove against the door handle demonstrated that it was locked. Irritating, but in a building like this hardly a massive impediment.
*SMASH!*
The sound of splintering wood filled the hallway as I bucked the door with all my might. It swung freely on its hinges. Well, what was left of it did, in any case. Half the door was reduced to splinters as I took a slow step inside. The room was small, a bedroom, barely large enough to contain the mattress and dresser which had belonged to its inhabitants.
Red light flickered on my EFS as I stepped through the door. This time the figure had nowhere left to run. Standing directly in front of me was a filly, cloudy grey coat and shockingly red mane. My mind reeled in confusion, was I seeing things? She turned to one side just slightly and I caught sight of her cutie mark. An empty musical scale.
Requiem! But what was she doing here? Thoughts seethed in confused waves, prospects of fear that she had run off, concern for how long she had been following us. I wanted to sweep her up and carry her away from this awful place. Whatever remaining curiosity I had swiftly replaced with worries for her safety.
Worries which was not unfounded. Moments after I had caught sight of her something else drew my attention. A bizarre mass of red lights which seemed to move of their own accord scuttled across the room. The way it moved was alive, stalking closer to Requiem. The red marker on my EFS moved with it. My heart beat faster and faster, my targeting spell wouldn’t recognize it! “Requiem! RUN!” I dropped my shield, clearing the doorway.
*BLAM!*BLAM!*
Without a thought I unloaded both barrels of my shotgun into the strange thing. A mournful, pained hissing howl filled the room. Requiem took off between my legs without stopping. Whatever that thing was kept moving towards us, scuttling along the ground as I threw my shield up again and quickly backed out of the door. Scrambling with ammo for the sawed off shotgun.
What was that thing!? A ghost? Some kind of monster I had never seen before. It scuttled out of the room as my heart seemed to be taking three beats at a time. For the second time I unloaded both barrels into it. This time it hissed and clattered, skidding backwards slightly as the red lights disappeared. Without those it was like the creature wasn’t there at all. The marker on my EFS went dark.
My heart raced, breaths coming quick and ragged. I hadn’t expected anything like that! My PipBuck didn’t even seem to be able to target them. Were it not for my EFS I wouldn’t have any idea if the creature were even dead! Was that what had killed the ponies here?
Requiem pressed herself tight against my rear legs, clinging to me. Whatever that had been had left her just as terrified as I was it seemed. But it was dead now. One less red marker. But I’d seen dozens of them earlier! This entire town was infested. That meant-
*Bzzzark!*Bzzzark!*Bzzzark!*Bzzzark!*
The distinctive fizzling crack of Arsenal’s weapon filled the building. Oh no. The one here had started moving when Requiem was alone, and I’d run off without Arsenal! My heart beat frantically again as I turned in the hallway, rushing back downstairs. No, no, no! I had to be fast enough.
A scant moment later I burst through the door into the supply room. Arsenal stood over a pile of pink ash, breathing heavily. Blood trickled from one of her rear legs. She was swaying on her hooves just slightly, “What... Was... THAT!?” her own breathing just as hard as mine.
“I don’t know. We need to get out of here! Come on!” Running seemed like a great plan right now. Whatever was wrong with this place could sort itself out. I wasn’t keeping Requiem here longer than we had to.
Arsenal struggled on her feet, backing up and turning to follow me. But she was slow, her leg was limp, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to run. Feels like my veins are on fire.” Augh. Everything which could go wrong was all at once! Why was it never the little things which went wrong, only the big ones?
The red markers on my EFS had started moving again. They must have known we were aware of them now. The weapon discharges probably disturbed more. Now was definitely not the time to be trying to carry an injured friend out of town!
“A town like this has to have had a medical pony,” Well, I had to hope it did anyway, “They might have supplies to help.” Parts of me were not confident in that idea. This place was still crawling with horrible invisible things. Running across town searching for something to help Arsenal might well get us all killed, but it was the only chance we had, “We’ll have to keep searching. Stay close. Maybe they won’t attack us if we’re all together.” They hadn’t when Arsenal and I had been together, after all.
A weak nod from Arsenal. The three of us slowly returning across the eatery. There weren’t any more of those things in here, at least. But there were others. Lots and lots of others. Hiding in the buildings, and who knew where else, out there. I checked my shotgun, it wasn’t in bad condition, but my panic had done more damage to it than I would have liked. Stupid tiny guns, nopony seemed to build anything durable enough for me to use right!
A deep breath and a heave forced the door open. There were still a lot of buildings to search. I had to hope one of them would have what we needed. Before Arsenal got any worse.
*** *** ***
The low, mournful sound which seemed to permeate every inch of the town echoed in the distance. A horrible feeling of dread ran through my veins. My nerves felt like lightning, jumping at every shadow, as we crossed the main plaza. There was a small, squat building on the far side of the town which somepony had spray painted the cross and butterfly of the Ministry of Peace on.
Around me I could hear clicking and movement. But there was no visible signs of it. The thing which had attacked Requiem glowed with its own light. Did all of them do that? Could they suppress it? The lights had just suddenly appeared in the room. Were they able to move through solid objects? No, that seemed unlikely, my shotgun had killed the thing just fine after all.
“Ooogh.” Arsenal had given up on trying to talk in favor of making the occasional pained grunt. Her rear leg was slacking badly now. Concern that she might pass out before we could help raged in my mind. Requiem hung close at my side, not at all eager to get attacked again. At least she didn’t seem to be bothered by the horrific sounds of this place.
The door creaked as it opened. The building’s interior not far removed from the exterior. Worn down, pre-war construction. Pale yellow light from ancient fixtures filled the rooms within. Thankfully the markings were right. Medical machines sat in large racks inside, beds were laid out for patients. Everything looked intact, as well. There had to be some medical supplies in here.
In an instant Requiem was off, beginning to do what she always did. Searching for any sign of what we needed. Within moments of entering the building, Arsenal collapsed onto one of the beds, not wanting to move. I couldn’t blame her, even I could see the way her muscles were twitching uncontrollably.
Ice water ran through my veins as I watched her. I had brought us here, it was my curiosity which kept us from leaving. If Arsenal died here it was my fault. No. That wasn’t going to happen. Stop thinking like that. Requiem would find something. She always found something. We’d save her. We’d all make it out of here together. Someday we’d look back on all this and laugh. She had to survive, right?
My hooves carried me without thinking. Long strides across the room, eyes scanning the walls for any signs of something to help. Medical boxes, charts, notes about these things, anything! Instead I caught sight of a familiar symbol. Six tiny stars, arranged in a particular pattern. A quick glance at my EFS told me that this building was clean. Whatever these creatures were didn’t seem interested in medical supplies. Part of me was amused by the idea that I thought they should be. Didn’t want to think about that part.
But that symbol, what was it doing here? It didn’t make any sense to me. It burned itself into my mind, my collar throbbing quietly. The weight and constriction of it cutting at the edges of my mind. My legs moved without my permission, carrying me up the stairs. My mind distant and confused. The last of those markers had taken me to a log file which belonged to someone else. Yet the symbol still demanded my attention. No matter how hard I tried to drag myself away.
My thoughts moved like molasses. It was hard to concentrate. The symbol and the feelings it stirred swallowed all other concerns. Down the hall I walked, possessed by an urge from far away. Another symbol, at the end of the hallway, hidden half way behind a heater beside another door. The door opened without complaint. A bedroom. This one slightly fancier than the last. An actual bed in the corner, standing on a small frame.
For a moment my mind stopped. There was no other symbols here. This was the place, so where was it hidden? Without thought I began to rip the room apart. Yanking drawers from the dresser, dumping their contents onto the floor and throwing them away. When it was empty over the entire dresser went. The sound of breaking wood echoing through the building as my hooves fell upon it. Sifting through the shattered remains there was still nothing left.
My attention passed from the dresser to the bed. Dark purple magic wrapped around the entire construct, before heaving it away to one side. Dust and debris littered the floor where the bed had stood. Empty tin cans and bottles which had rolled beneath it. But there it was. A white medical case, the butterfly scratched off and replaced with those six stars.
I ripped it from the ground without thinking. Click, click, the latches gave way. Inside was the prize I sought. A data recording, with the same symbol as the one in the radio station. Two alicorns, white and black, chasing eachother, surrounded by six colored gems.
Again my heart ached, distant recognition there. This symbol was important, so why couldn’t I remember why? The frustration at my shattered mind almost eclipsed my need for the contents of the recording. Almost.
I pressed the recording into the slot on my PipBuck. The transfer was characteristically instantaneous. Preachers Log #6, this time. Tucking the recording into my saddle bag I took a second look into the box. There was a small scrap of folded paper inside. I didn’t even bother examining it in detail at the time, just shoving it into one of my packs. My mind was occupied with other things.
With an effortless motion I triggered the recording, beginning the walk back downstairs. Slower this time. A familiar voice played in my ear. It was different than last time, though. She sounded younger, voice untainted by exhaustion and anger but instead filled with enthusiastic joy.
“Blessed be the Goddesses and the Six. May their path lead us back towards greatness and their lessons mark our way.
“It’s been a long walk from Baltimare, but we finally arrived at Manestreet today! Nothing like as long as the walk to Trotonto from home was, I suppose, but it still felt like it’d go on forever.
“The locals seem really nice here. They turned up to greet us outside of town. About a dozen of them, at that! Even recognized Long Haul.
“Sawbones, the local medical pony, let me borrow a room. I don’t think that’s really his name, but everyone here calls him that. Figure we’re going to be in town for about a week, the least I can do is help out where I can. Maybe that will get the locals to listen to me more.
“Don’t have a lot of time to talk today, sadly. We got in late in the evening and I need to be up early tomorrow. Morning prayers are important, after all! Maybe I can get some of the residents to join me.
“I wish all the news was good news, but I suppose I should mention this too. We were attacked on our way here. It wasn’t too bad. At least I don’t think it was. I hid in one of the carts, like they told me to. Lots of shouting. Two of our guards died. I think that the day after tomorrow I’m going to hold a funeral for them. Ponies willing to sacrifice themselves for others deserve at least that much.
“Don’t want to think about that right now. Got to stay positive. This town is amazing. They built some kind of huge covering over it. Haven’t asked why yet, but it’s incredible.
“Ugh, listen to me. Going over things anypony should know when they find this recording. Guess my mind wanders a bit much when I’m tired, huh? Time for me to go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll start trying to help the locals.
“...
“First day of work in the clinic was okay. Nothing too terrible. Another traveler came in, had been stung by something. Still not sure what, but the poison wasn’t too hard to treat. He kept rambling on about not being able to look away. I think the poison may have made him delirious.
“Morning prayers were alone today. I guess that’s no surprise, nopony here knows who I am after all. Makeshift was there with me, but she never gives actual prayers. Worries me sometimes, but she’s a good pony. Can’t go doubting your friends after all.
“The locals managed to dig up a set of security cameras somewhere in the ruins. Makeshift thinks she can get them set up around town, give them a little more warning if anything dangerous is coming. Don’t know if she’ll manage it, but I’d like to believe we’ll leave everywhere we go better than we found it.
“Not much to talk about today, I suppose. Funeral tomorrow, have my speech written and everything. Maybe I’ll leave it here with the recording. Something to remember it by.
“For now I should go off to bed. Too many things to do tomorrow, and not nearly enough time.
“...
“Funeral went well. Several of the locals and almost the entire caravan turned out for it. I don’t think most of them liked my speech much. But I think I got through to at least a few.
“Morning prayers were slightly less lonely today. Sawbones turned up, at least long enough to listen to what I had to say. Don’t know if he actually cares, but even just having somepony come and listen was nice.
“Merry-go-Round stopped by the clinic today with good news. She managed to sell two more of her dresses in town. Good on her! The wasteland could use more beauty, and she knows how to make it happen.
“Heard that Makeshift managed to get the first of the cameras up and working. Wish I could be out there watching her do her thing, there’s just something amazing about the way she handles machines. But between the clinic and the funeral my day was too busy.
“The traveler from yesterday has made a full recovery. He keeps talking about some kind of thing he saw which mesmerized him. Not sure I believe it, but who knows.
“Time for me to go to bed, hopefully tomorrow will be better than today.
“...
“Today was an unmitigated disaster. I’m... I’m not even really sure where to begin.
“I suppose I should start with morning prayers. It seems my funeral did more than just fail to get through to a few. Some of the locals have taken active offense at my attempts to help them.
“Three more locals showed up today for prayers, at least until two more came along and started threatening ponies. I couldn’t believe it. Who would do that? And why? Makes me feel sick inside.
“There wasn’t much I could do to stop them. Ran off everypony with me. Thankfully they didn’t actually hurt anypony. I’d hate to think that Makeshift or Sawbones had gotten injured because of me.
“Things went from bad to worse when one of the local mares, Buttercup was her name I think, came into the clinic with her colt. He’d been climbing around outside the town and fallen, broken one of his legs.
“It took me almost an hour to calm him down enough to be able to set the leg properly. It’s in a brace now, and I hope he’ll be able to make a full recovery. But it was still so painful to deal with. Screaming child, worried mother, and the fear I’d do it wrong and leave him crippled for life.
“Can’t spare much time to think about that now, though. Long Haul wants to leave early. Don’t know why. When I asked he just claimed ‘there’s a storm brewing’. But there’s always clouds in the sky, aren’t there? Whatever his reasoning we leave first thing tomorrow morning.
“Makeshift finished setting up the cameras today. So at least the town will have some warning if anything goes wrong. Claims she set them up to record things too. All set up in city hall, that big wooden structure with the old fountain out front.
“Hate leaving this place so soon. If I’d had a few more days I might have been able to win more of the locals over. Need to get to bed early tonight, got to pack and get ready to leave in the morning.”
Despite the dark nature of her last day in town, the voice never lost its hopeful enthusiasm. Somehow that made it even more painful to listen to. That this pony had become the same I heard in recording ten felt wrong somehow. I couldn’t spare the time to focus on that at the moment, even if it did clench my heart tight.
By the time I made it back to the main clinic Requiem had finished her search. She’d found a dozen magical healing potions, along with two full rolls of medical bandages. That... That was a lot of supplies. More than I’d had in my entire journey put together. Why were there so many supplies left here if the town had been wiped out? It didn’t make any sense.
Near Arsenal’s forehooves was an empty healing potion bottle, her eyes closed and breathing easy. She didn’t even open her eyes as she spoke, “Aurora? I think... I think I’m going to need a minute. Whatever that thing was, it stung me. I think it was poisoned, burns real bad.” a grim smile on her face, “N-not that this is serious. But, I don’t want to push myself too hard, right? Better to recover before we try to move on.” Well, I couldn’t fault her for wanting to rest. There was something else I wanted to see in town anyway.
Slowly I approached Requiem, collecting the pile of supplies she’d gathered, “Requiem? I want you to stay here and look out for Arsenal. I’ll be back soon.” dipping down low to kiss her forehead, “And no following me this time, understand? If anything happens in here, you’ve got to get Arsenal up and out.”
I didn’t think anything would happen here. The building was clear, I was sure of that. For a moment Requiem just stared at me questioningly before heading towards the bed to leap up and lay down next to Arsenal. I had to hope she understood why I was leaving her here.
Moving towards the door I briefly wondered if I should bring the two with me for what I was about to do. It wouldn’t be a terrible idea, but Arsenal really did need to recover. Plus, if things went too badly, I could always teleport myself away. I couldn’t take anyone else with me when I did that, though. Better if I did this alone.
*** *** ***
Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was a terrible idea. Of course, bad ideas were always obvious in hind sight. The screeching hiss coming from the mass of red lights before me made how stupid incredibly clear. Three red markers on my EFS in front of me, two more behind. The dark purple haze of my shield mixed with their light.
The resounding ‘thunk’ of a large impact against my shield thundered in my ears. Thankfully the creatures didn’t seem strong enough to penetrate it very far. The effort of keeping the shield up against the repeated pounding was making my horn ache. Tiny rips crawled at the edges of my vision as the creatures continued to assail my bubble of safety.
*BLAM!*BLAM!*BLAM!*
Three rounds from my heavy revolver, spewed in the general direction of the red lights before me. The crash of the weapon sent surges of pain up my horn. But one of the three before me fell, lights winking off into invisibility.
That was my chance. Instantly my wings extended and I leaped. The roof in the main room of the city hall wasn’t nearly high enough for proper flight, but it was easy enough to leap over the two remaining ghost things. Hooves clattering back down to wood behind them.
Time to run. My heart thundered in my chest, horn throbbing with every pulse. But I couldn’t let go of my spell now. The poison just one of those things had was enough to seriously impair Arsenal. I was larger than she was, but I was also being chased by four of the invisible things. Worse, I had no idea what they’d do if they actually caught poisoned prey.
Rushing up stairs and around a corner I was presented with a choice. Two doors, but which one to choose? The clattering sound of those things following me filled the hallway. Oh, horseapples. No time to debate. Pick one and go! Charging forwards I rounded the corner into the still-closed door. A resounding crash of breaking wood filling the building. No way they were going to miss me now.
This looked promising. There was wiring running along the ceilings here, off towards another door on the far side of the room. This one was one of the large metallic doors I had seen before. Sitting open at the moment.
A growling hiss and sudden surge of pain in my horn alerted me to the fact that the creatures had caught up. Spinning on my hooves I fired off the three remaining rounds from my revolver, backing through the doorway. Another set of winking lights vanished, but I’d have to drop my shield to reload.
Just inside the door I spotted a switch, one of the creatures rushing towards the open entryway just as I slammed a hoof down on the button. The door slid up and closed with a clatter, followed immediately by a loud ‘thunk’ as the invisible ghost-thing met hard metal.
It took a moment for my heart to stop racing so badly and take in my surroundings. Against the far wall was a large set of controls, a bank of monitors which were showing the state of the town just above it. Winking lights on the board which meant nothing to me. Now the real question was how to find out what happened here.
The tears at the edge of my vision were slowly receding. The throbbing, nauseous pain in my horn dieing back. Parts of me wanted to just lay down and go to sleep, but that would have to wait. I couldn’t abandon Requiem and Arsenal for that long. Forcing those feelings from my mind I began to search the controls for any sign of how to use them.
The control panel was covered in switches and buttons. Finally I found one which looked promising. ‘Recording replay’. I had no idea what the recording would be of, but it was something, right? Hitting the button the entire bank of monitors went blank. For a few moments I feared I had broken the machine before text began to spew across the screens. ‘Recording memory full. Loading last log file. Please wait.’
Seconds ticked by nervously. The sound of those things scrabbling at the door echoed in the quiet room. They knew I was in here and were just waiting for the chance to get at me. The low, mournful howl in the distance returned once again, lasting longer than it had before. My bones trembled in time with that sound. My nerves weren’t going to be calm until we were well away from this town.
Finally the screens returned to life, displaying the center of the town, but not as I had seen it. Dozens of ponies were gathered around the central podium. An elderly stallion stood behind the podium addressing the crowd. There was no sound in the recordings, leaving me to wonder what he was giving a speech about. Many of the ponies had food or drink, with seemingly little concern for their safety.
All at once the crowd turned, though I couldn’t see towards what. There was a moment of silent stares, before the stallion behind the podium called out to whatever they were all staring at. Another figure entered the frame. A huge figure, with long muscular legs, a massive, sharp horn and vast near-black wings.
Another alicorn! But this one didn’t look like me. She was, if anything, even larger than I was. Shrouded in metal armor which covered much of her head and torso. Armor which felt distantly familiar. Her mane waved in invisible wind, the same as mine. Rippling of its own accord. She said something, and suddenly dozens of tiny lights appeared around her, surrounding her hooves and the gathered ponies out to every direction.
Panic swept through the crowd instantly. Ponies dropped their drinks and began to run, fleeing in every direction. The floating lights moving, chasing ponies. Wounds opened upon the ponies when the lights got too near, sending them crashing to the ground. They were killing everyone! My eyes moved back towards that alicorn. She was just standing by, laughing as she watched the catastrophe.
How... How could any pony be so callous? She was no raider, her armor was tightly fitted and well made. Even I could tell that. So why? What was the point? I couldn’t stand to watch any more, diverting my eyes and turning away. A monster in the wasteland. A monster with whom I shared a form, and perhaps had once shared a mind. That thought sent cold shocks down my spine. No. No! I wasn’t like that! I wouldn’t be like that!
My mind churned, chasing itself in circles. No, no, no. Quit thinking like that. Without thinking I bucked against the machine behind me. The screech of rending metal filled the room as the control panel collapsed inwardly. I had found the reason this town was dead. But it hadn’t explained anything at all.
Why did it always turn out like this? Everywhere I went, nothing but death and misery. I wanted to go back to the Junkyard, to find a nice warm place and lay down in the sun. My heart ached for the chance to feel that wonderful warmth again. Without a care in the world.
But there was something I had to do first. Without the water talisman the junkyard wouldn’t be home for anypony for long. Slowly I pulled the remaining frag grenades from my satchel. The shiny metal apples floating out in front of me. One by one I pulled the stems from them, dropping them to the floor.
My hoof collided with the button again. Red lights beyond the doorframe instantly surged towards me, but they were already too late. Brilliant white light filled my vision, the world imploding around me moments before explosions rocked the town hall.
*** *** ***
The clinic was no different than I had left it. The explosions in the distance muffled by many walls. Requiem reacted to my presence instantly, leaping off the bed and trotting over towards me. For a moment she stood directly below me, then slowly turned and reared.
*CRACK!*
OW! She bucked me! Right in the leg! Okay, I probably deserved it, but still. That hurt. The pain didn’t last long before being replaced by concern. Arsenal was still on the bed, having not moved much at all, “Arsenal? Do you think you can walk?”
The brown pegasus just shook her head, “Such a pity. The searing agony of my leg would make standing impossible! If only I had my wings, it would be easy. But alas, I am but a humble grounded pegasus.” a pout spread to her lips, a groan coming through mine.
The low moaning wail of the town returned again, but this time it was accompanied by another sound. The tortured howl of bending metal. Clang, thunk, crunch. Somewhere outside some massive thing had fallen. The tortured metallic groaning hadn’t stopped either.
My heart raced. Had my explosives done more than I expected? What could be... The metal cover over the town? That thought sent lightning down my nerves, “Requiem, grab whatever you’re taking with you.” I wrapped my magic around Arsenal and heaved her from the bed onto my back, “We’re leaving. Right now!”
There was no hesitation before I hit the door, forcing it open in a single motion. Across the main circle of buildings. The city hall was burning, a chunk of metal sky had fallen from far above and cut straight through the building. Brilliant golden light cascading down through the opening.
There wasn’t time to pause and enjoy the view. I galloped between buildings as fast as I could, Requiem barely keeping pace at my side. Arsenal weakly clung to my neck. No time for worries about whether or not she’d get sicker from this.
Screaming metal filled the air once again as a vast piece of darkened sky fell from above. A billboard crashed through the eatery where I had found Requiem. Onwards the two of us ran, ducking between a gap in the covering and out of the town.
No time to stop, rushing through the ruined buildings. Overly cramped, burned wooden beams smashed to bits by my mass. The smell of burnt wood filled my nose as bits of charcoal ground themselves into my coat. Forget Scraps, I was going to need a bath by the time we got back!
Behind us there was another horrible sound. Nearly deafening, torturous and horrid screech of metal. The metal sky gave up an angry howl. Wind blowing across the wrecked city. I spared a look back, just in time to see the last of the support give way. The sky fell, crushing the remains of Manestreet beneath it. Burying the rest of those horrific things in its mass. Or so I hoped.
A great cloud of dust and debris washed out from the collapse, surging across the city. It whipped through my mane and beneath my wings. Grinding dust and dirt into my skin. A familiar, almost comforting, feeling of the dirt being pressed inwards by such great force.
My heart surged angrily as we finally began to move beyond the edges of the wrecked city. Vision still clouded by strange colorful apparitions. The sun hung low in the sky, reaching towards nightfall as I finally stopped running. There was no longer such a need to rush.
Beside me Requiem panted for breath, barely making any sound at all. As I looked down to make sure she was alright, she just glared back up at me. She didn’t need words to convey that feeling. Yes, I was an idiot. Yes, I had just demolished a town. Yes, I felt really bad about it. Honest!
A groan passed Arsenal’s lips, still resting on my back. I’d be carrying her the rest of the day, it seemed. Slowly the three of us returned to traveling down the roads. The silence of the wastes surrounding us again.
*** *** ***
Warm orange light filled our small camp sight. The sun had set nearly an hour ago. Arsenal had stripped off her armor and bound her leg with some of the medical bandages. She seemed to be doing fairly well at least.
Requiem was bucking and practicing like she had on the roof of the hospital. A smile passed my face as I watched her, something about seeing her like that felt so natural and effortless. Part of me insisted it was horrible that I thought that, no filly should practice combat. But... She seemed happy when she did it, and that was good enough.
“Are you ever going to leave anywhere we visit intact?” Arsenal’s question wasn’t entirely undue. I had managed to destroy just about everything I layed hoof on, it seemed.
A chuckle passed my lips, “Are you going to manage to not get injured wherever we go?” Hey, fair’s fair! She wanted to bring up my failings, I could bring up her’s.
A snort from Arsenal as she refused to answer, spreading one of her wings wide. As I watched she turned her head around and began gently chewing on the base of her wing. Working up the entire length, bit by bit. Then turned to the other to repeat the process.
“What are you doing?” I fought back laughter at the odd look of her.
For a moment Arsenal ignored me, as though she found the question beneath her, before finally returning her attention to me, “Preening. That armor is incredibly itchy, and my wings are very sensitive. What, didn’t anypony teach you proper hygene?” Proper hygene involved chewing on yourself? That idea seemed bizarre. But then, we didn’t have any bath for her to use, so this was probably the best she was going to get.
It didn’t take long for her to return to what she had been doing. Up one wing, then the other, then picking at the particular feathers. I contemplated trying it myself. No, I wasn’t nearly flexible enough to reach my own wings that way.
Requiem leaped up and climbed over my back, sitting down at my side. Without thought I wrapped a wing around her, only to feel something odd at her side. I hadn’t looked at her very closely since I found her, after all she hated that, but the feeling was distinct enough to draw my attention.
A small grey pack was attached to her side, latched with a tiny metal musical scale. Something made by Scraps, perhaps? Saddle bags fitted for a filly, and even properly designed with her own cutie mark! There was something else different about her, a small whistle hung from her neck. Dangling on a short chain. Another gift from Scraps? I could only guess.
Requiem was, as always, not talking. When she noticed me looking at her she backed up away, under my wing a bit further. But she didn’t vanish entirely. She had come all this way to be with me, and I wasn’t going to deny her that. Not tonight. Tonight the warmth of her presence was something I wanted so, so badly. This was the way things were supposed to be.
Slowly I pulled the book from my bags, opened it and began to read. The words flowed through me, stirring distant and comforting memories. "Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria..."
Notes:
Aurora Borealis (Level Up! - Level 7)
Silent Requiem (Level Up! - Level 6)
Quest Perk: Fallen Caesar Style (Rank 1) - Basic studies of Zebra combat techniques has given you a simple understanding of their most widely used fighting style. You gain an additional 25% bonus damage with unarmed sneak attacks and your unarmed attacks ignore up to 5 points of your target’s DT.
Arsenal (Level Up! - Level 6)