//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: Windows and Mirrors // Story: Fallout Equestria: The Ditzy Doo Chronicles // by Ten Mihara //------------------------------// Chapter 12: Windows and Mirrors “But the two things I did know: souls had a living power, and a soul was a hard thing to kill.” Heroes. The one thing the Equestrian Wasteland really needs more of, and there never seems to be any around. Heroes suffer in the wastes, but this much is common knowledge. The sheer amount of darkness, fear and evil that has seeped into the heart of the land was enough to drown, suffocate or crush anypony who tried to stand up against it. Yet, there were still those that did it. Those that became heroes because they knew it was what Equestria needed. Most times, it's hard to be sure if the cost is worth it for them. Even less clear is whether or not these heroes will ever truly make a difference. Is there some measure of magnitude that a hero must achieve before they falter in order to generate progress? Or are they simply rallying in vain against an unstoppable force. How do you measure the magnitude of a hero anyways? By how many bad guys they kill? How many ponies they save? How many disasters they avert? Heroism is a hard thing to quantify. At what point does somepony become a hero? What is the truest essence of one, and can it be created? Could we narrow it down and start making heroes until such time as one comes along that's enough of a hero to fix everything? Would it be worth the price? *** The brilliant flash around Rottingtail, May and I fell away as the three of us were deposited back on solid ground. It was still fairly early in the morning, enough that the clouds on the horizon shone a brilliant orange. It was still possible to see the Renewal flying off in the distance; it hadn't gotten all that far. I found myself wondering how well Rottingtail had really thought that through, considering how long the slow moving ship would have taken to reach Trottingham. I didn't bring this up though; he had hurt enough already. Turning away from the flying vessel, the three of us could see Stalliongrad about a half-mile away. This city had been both the birthplace and final resting place for heroes more than once. The three of us, having nowhere better to turn at the moment, started heading towards the old city. As we got closer, it became increasingly apparent that the launch of the Renewal had not gone unnoticed by the town near which it had previously been anchored. I could make out a few ponies running around the city's perimeter wall, trying to get a glimpse of the ship. My lazy eye rolled away from the Stalliongrad wall, landing on a pony that was running towards us. I turned to face her, gesturing for May and Rottingtail so they would notice her to. She was a white coated unicorn with an almost white, pale pink, short cropped mane. Her eyes were also bright red, making me wonder momentarily if she was an albino. She wasn't armed, and was carrying only a pair of saddlebags. Behind her I could see that the gates into the city were open, indicating she had just come from within. She trotted up to us, stopping for a moment to catch her breath. My lazy eye caught a glimpse of her cutie mark, which was a microphone. When she had caught her breath, she looked up to the three of us curiously; “Hey there,” she said casually. Then she began to talk at an incredibly brisk pace; “So, I heard the commotion going on this morning and when I came out, I saw that big ship thingy flying by and was all like 'whoa'! Then, while I'm trying to get myself in a position for a better look, I see this huge flash of green on the far side of the wall, and I think to myself 'what if there's a connection'? So I ran out here to check it out and I find three ghouls who-” May held up a hoof to the obviously excited albino mare; “I'm sorry, but could you slow down just a bit.” The mare stopped cold, looking a little sheepish. “Now then, might I ask who you are?” “Oh,” exclaimed the mare. “Sorry, got excited there. Name's Bonus Track; I work as a correspondent for DJ P0N-3. He's got eyes everywhere, but doesn't always get all the details, so that's where I come in.” “Ah,” stated May. “I take it then that you are looking for information regarding that ship?” “You got it!” Bonus Track's horn lit up, opening her saddlebags and floating out a pencil and a pad of paper. She paused for a moment, looking up at the three of us; “You guys do know something about that ship don't you? All I know from before is that there were a bunch of ghouls living there, and since you guys are ghouls I just made the assumption that you would know. Some ponies thought is was a herd of ferals, but obviously that's not the case.” My head reeled a little; with what had happened with Rottingtail this morning, I was having a hard time keeping up with this rather energetic mare. Thankfully, May seemed at least able to parse her mile-a-minute speech. “We do know the story with that ship, but I'm not sure this is the best time or place. My friends have had a rather emotionally trying morning and I think-” The albino mare managed to look abashed; “Oh, I'm terribly sorry about that. Here I come running up demanding answers without even considering what might be going on with you. Tell you what, I've got a room in town. I'll put your friends up and you can tell me what you know in a more proper setting.” May looked to Rottingtail and I, and both of us simply nodded. Bonus Track seemed thrilled at the prospect of getting information for DJ P0N-3, and turned back towards Stalliongrad, leading the three of us along behind her. May looked at me apologetically, but I wasn't mad about this turn of events. I was actually pleased that we would be able to get into the city and even have a private place to talk without any hassle. As we moved towards the city, Bonus prattled on almost incessantly. I wished I could share her enthusiasm, but neither Rottingtail nor I were in any mood. Even May only seemed able to give the mare part of her attention, although that might have been due to the volume of words she was spouting rather than a lack of interest. As we walked, May returned my belongings to me, including my saddlebags and rifle. She would later explain that she had returned to grab them for me before heading up to the command deck. *** During our trip through the streets of Stalliongrad, we were met with strange looks. A few mothers pulled their foals closer and eyed us warily. However, like Bright had stated, none of them were openly hostile. It probably also helped that we were in the company of somepony they knew. The pre-war city had been built upon much like we ghouls had back in Trottingham, with scrap metal shanties interspersed around the older surviving buildings. The building that Bonus Track led us to was a prewar apartment building that had been converted into a hotel. It was simply called 'Stalliongrad Suites'. The main entrance to the building was a set of double doors that would have been moderately fancy if the glass hadn't been melted and crudely patched over with sheet metal. The counter inside was made of oak, and would have also been nice if it weren't scorched black. Bonus trotted right up and stuck a service bell. My lazy eye rolled over the counter, where I saw an elderly earth pony mare in a wheelchair talking to another customer. The fact that she managed to live long enough to have grey in her mane while crippled was surprising given the wasteland's normal cruelty. Said customer was wearing a travel cloak, but I could see a beak poking out of the hood. As well, the customer handed a small satchel of bottlecaps over with a talon. The rifle strapped to the griffon's back made me wonder if he was a Talon mercenary like Gilda had been. The griffon seemed to notice that my gaze had fallen on him, and he quickly turned and departed from the hotel. The mare behind the counter snorted, then turned her chair and wheeled over to where Bonus Track was standing. She looked the mare over, then glanced at us three ghouls. I couldn't really read her expression. “Friends of yours?” asked the mare, addressing the albino DJ's assistant. “You betcha Peaches,” she beamed. “They have info for me regarding that big ship thingy. I'm going to be interviewing this one,” she said, gesturing to May, “but these two need some 'alone time'.” The way she emphasized 'alone time' drew a questioning look from the hotel matron. I said nothing, feeling a bit embarrassed. I knew that wasn't the reason we needed the room, but trying to deny it at this point would just seem sketchy. “So long as they got the caps to pay for a room,” Peaches said, shrugging. Bonus Track shook her head; “Oh no, they're just going to borrow mine for a bit while I do the interview.” Another odd look. “You mind if I use the private parlour so I can record without interruptions?” “I'll just put it on your tab,” muttered Peaches. She then turned around and rolled her chair to a board of keys on pegs, one of which she plucked off the wall before turning back around and wheeling herself back to the counter. She set the key down, allowing me to pick it up in my teeth. I tried to smile, but the mare just shrugged; “I've have all sorts through here before, don't worry yourself about it.” I was unable to keep my cheeks from flushing, and quickly turned away from the mare to try and cool my head. I saw Bonus Track chatting with May as the two of them walked away through another part of the lobby. Rottingtail and I headed towards the stairs and up to her room to talk. *** Bonus Track's room was on the second floor. Like the rest of the building, it was reasonably constructed, but damaged by the megaspell that hit the city and the eighty years of time that followed. Rottingtail and I closed the door behind us, trotting over to a sitting area and seating ourselves on a couple of chairs. There room filled with a pregnant silence as we just sat there looking at each other, not really knowing what to say. I let out a sigh and tried to start. “Listen, Lone Star-” Rottingtail held up a hoof; “Ah'm sorry, Ditzy, but could you please not call me that anymore? Lone Star is who Ah was back when Ah was a responsible sheriff and caretaker. It was who ah was back when Ah had a family. Ah ain't that pony anymore. Ah'm just another ghoul now.” He hung his head, looking about to cry. “Ah already told ya, that pony died with the last of muh family.” I raised a hoof of my own, placing it on Rottingtail's good shoulder. “You still have me. You and Apple Crumble were the closest thing I ever had to family. I know it hurts, and it might not get better for a long time, but you're not alone.” Tears started to pool in my eyes. “Nopony should have to be alone,” I insisted; “May's here too, and you'll always have your fond memories of them.” Rottingtail raised his head, looking at least a little appreciative. “You've been handlin' this a lot better than Ah have Ditzy. Yer makin' me feel right foolish.” I shook my head, tears falling; “I've just been distracting myself really. The whole thing with Bright's group was just me trying to get away from everything that happened. I felt like helping them might help me too, but really it was just a diversion. I know you feel responsible for what happened in Trottingham, but really I'm at fault as much as you are.” “Well,” said Rottingtail, placing his hoof contemplatively on his chin, “Ah reckon at least those that survived are gonna get to a better place now...” he trailed off, looking away from me. “An' Ah went'n cost ya'll that chance.” I shook my head; “I don't blame you for that. I chose to stay behind with you.” I smiled, albeit a bit halfheartedly; “Besides, Equestria is still my home. We'll find a way to make this work.” I pulled Rottingtail into a hug, which he returned with his good hoof. We just stayed there for a while, holding each other. Back then, I really thought things might actually work out for us. I had really hoped they would. *** After a while, Rottingtail and I headed back downstairs we passed by the front desk, where Peaches looked at us curiously. I returned the room key to her in silence, hoping she would take Bonus Track's earlier comment with a cube of salt. She directed us to the parlour in which Bonus Track was interviewing May and we moved on, following the hallway on the other side of the lobby. This parlour seemed to be in better condition than most of the rest of the building, although I suspected that was due to more recent renovations, judging by the lack of scorch marks. We found May and Bonus sitting in a booth at the far end of the room. The albino unicorn took a moment to flag us down with her hoof before turning her attention back to the interview she was giving May. I noticed that she had a Pipbuck of her own attached to that foreleg. As Rottingtail and I trotted up, May was at the tail end of explaining about Bright's group and the Renewal. We seated ourselves and waited for her to finish. As May spoke, Bonus held her PipBuck up to my friend, where a peripheral that I assumed was a recording device of some kind was plainly visible. “Wow,” said Bonus Track, looking as astonished as she sounded. “That's quite the story. I would be tempted to call horseapples, but...” she waved her Pipbuck over the three of us, eliciting the soft clicking of a radiation detector. Apparently there was some left over from when Bright had teleported us. “Between the radiation, the flash of light and the ship flying away, I don't think you're yankin' my chain.” May's horn lit up, and a packet of RadAway floated out of her saddlebags towards Bonus Track; “Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly; “I've been around other ghouls for so long that I stopped paying attention to the radiation detector.” “No biggie,” said Bonus, taking the packet from May in a field of her own magic. “A few rads is worth it for that kind of story. I've had worse anyways.” In spite of her remarks, the albino unicorn downed the RadAway potion swiftly. She made a mock gagging face and then snickered at us. “Even more so because I finally got the scoop on Trottingham. After a week of nothing, DJ was convinced there hadn't been any survivors at all. Actually, it should be close to news time about now.” Bonus Track paused for a moment, then brought up the radio on her PipBuck, setting it to DJ P0N-3's station. It was about midway through a song by Sapphire Shores, the end of which brought the voice of the DJ to the airwaves. “Good afternoon Equestria, this is your host with the most, DJ P0N-3! It's that time again, for the news that is. Been gettin' a lot of talk about some strange flying black... thing out near Stalliongrad. Well, that thing is some kind of pre-war airship, and somepony saw fit to fix it up. Other than that, I got nothin'. It flew past the city earlier this morning, and has since moved on. It's passed by a couple of settlements along the way, but thus far has done nothin' but keep moving. Thankfully, I got somepony in Stalliongrad actin' as my eyes on sight, so this mystery should be cleared up shortly.” Bonus beamed visibly at the mention of her, despite its implicit nature. However, the radio personality apparently wasn't done yet. “Speaking of Stalliongrad, there's still no new news regarding the recent mysterious abductions that have plagued the town. I'd advise anypony livin' there to keep their doors locked and windows barred at night, and never go out without a buddy. I'm sure this mess'll be cleaned up soon enough, but for now here's some Sweetie Belle for you.” Bonus Track shut off the radio as the song began to play. I looked at her curiously; “Abductions?” I thought I remembered hearing something like that mentioned on the radio before, but the last week was a bit of a haze. Bonus Track returned my gaze; “You didn't know?” I shook my head. “Welp, guess it's my turn to tell a story. It started a couple months ago when Haypenny of the former Stalliongrad Seven went missing.” I nodded, remembering that. She, along with the one who had apparently drank himself to death a little over a week ago, had been the two surviving members of the group who had retired. “DJ said she'd gone missing,” I observed; “but didn't know more than that.” “Well, Stalliongrad's ruins are just as dangerous as any other city,” noted Bonus. “At first, they figured she just got herself lost or killed while out doing something. Strider started binge drinking after she disappeared, but nopony thought anything more of it.” Strider had been the other retiree. I shuddered, realizing that the disappearance of his friend and his alcohol related death were probably connected. “But,” continued Bonus Track, “a week later somepony else went missing. Stolen right out of her home I was told. After that, it was like clockwork. Once a week, somepony would turn up missing. Bars and locks didn't seem to be a deterrent either. Whole town started getting paranoid, but nopony seemed able to predict who would go missing or how the pony doing the abductions got in and out. Always happened without a trace. It's actually the reason why DJ asked me to come out here in the first place.” “When was the last one?” asked May, looking nervous. “About a week ago,” replied Bonus Track. She said this without any hint of worry or concern, which confused me. “I'm actually hoping to help them catch the culprit tonight!” She sounded strangely optimistic for somepony dealing with a rash of mysterious disappearances. The she looked at the three of us, her expression changing quickly to something more contemplative; “You ghouls don't need to sleep, right?” The three of us all shook our heads. “Not normally, no,” replied May. I figured out where this was going a moment before she said it; “Why, do you think we can help?” Bonus Track smiled broadly at us; “Absolutely!” She opened her saddlebags again, this time floating out a small arcano-tech peripheral that looked like the one slotted into her PipBuck. She floated it over to May, who raised her own PipBuck, into which Bonus inserted the device. “That's a broadcaster,” she explained; “With that and the tag for my PipBuck, you can send me a message easy peasy, and the range should be good enough to cover any of the occupied parts of the town.” May's Pipbuck bleeped as Bonus gave her the aforementioned tag. “Nopony else in this town even has a Pipbuck, so I hadn't been able to try this yet.” May nodded firmly, then began fiddling with the new peripheral. I looked to the albino unicorn curiously; “Does the abductor always come at the same time?” I asked. Bonus shrugged; “Dunno; most of the time whoever goes missing isn't found out about until the morning after. However, it always happens overnight, that much I'm sure of. In the meantime, you guys want some lunch? Peaches has her own little garden out back; freshest salad you'll find anywhere. That I know of at least.” She paused, looking at us contemplatively; “Ghouls eat, right?” *** Peaches' salad was actually the tastiest thing I'd eaten in a long time, even though I had no real need to eat anything at all. After that, the three of us discussed Bonus's plan. She was going to stay in her room here at the hotel with her broadcaster tuned into the tag of May's Pipbuck. May would be outside with us patrolling the city. Thanks to her EFS, she would have the best chance of spotting anypony that wasn't among the city's guards or residents. Rottingtail would be with her, and would fire off his battle saddle to signal everypony if they spotted anything. May would let Bonus know through the broadcaster, and she would use her own EFS to coordinate with May so that they could box in whoever the assailant was. Even if neither of them saw anything, they would check in with each other every half hour or so. In the meantime, I would be flying overhead and keeping my eyes out for anything unusual. My eyes didn't exactly make for the best scouting, but I was the only pony around who could get a bird's eye view. I could have used the scope of my rifle in place of binoculars or the like, but it would narrow my field of vision too much. Bonus wanted our area of observation to be as wide as possible at all times. It certainly wasn't helping that the wind was picking up. It would probably start to storm before the night was over. It was around halfway through the night and I was flying over the town. I had yet to see anything that I would consider out of the ordinary, although I hadn't really seen much of anything aside from the others on patrol. My lazy eye rolled downwards, landing on May and Rottingtail, who were walking the street beneath me. May was turning from side to side as she trotted, watching unseen markers on her EFS. Rottingtail kept his back to her, covering her with his battle saddle. Flapping down gently to meet them I waved them over to me. “Seen anything yet?” Considering that there had been no signal of any kind, I figured I already knew the answer. Still, I wanted to take a break from my lone scouting and have a bit of conversation. May shook her head in response; “There hasn't been anything of any kind anywhere. Still, that kind of worries me, considering all the previous instances happened without any kind of signs before hoof.” Rottingtail turned to face me; “May's got a point; even with her'n Bonus Track's fancy PipBuck-o-vision, there's no guarantee we'll actually spot anythin'.” I was a bit disappointed to hear my friends' pessimistic outlooks, even if they were warranted. “What about Bonus?” I asked; “Has she had any luck?” May looked contemplative. “Actually, I think she fell asleep. I tried to check in with her a few minutes ago, as we have been, but there was no response.” My ears shot up in alarm; “You don't think she-” May raised a hoof to cut me off, alleviating my concerns. “I have been keeping an eye on the Stalliongrad Suites more than any other building, just in case. There hasn't been any hostile activity over there. Besides, there would have been some kind of struggle for us to overhear.” May added some medical knowledge for extra affirmation; “Albinos are notorious for having a weaker constitution than most, and she's not a ghoul like us. I can't really blame her for needing to rest.” I let out a brief sigh of relief, by my lazy eye insisted on rolling towards the hotel. “Perhaps I should check in on her then,” I mused. “I'm not having any luck scouting from above-” I gestured to my bad eye for emphasis “-so maybe I could keep an eye on her broadcaster while she's asleep.” My looked at me curiously; “You wouldn't be able to use the EFS though; that only works when the PipBuck is worn.” May once again had a point, but really that wasn't the reason I wanted to go. If Bonus Track had fallen asleep and had a weak constitution, I wanted to make sure she was properly in bed, as opposed to just laying at a table or desk. I admitted as much to Rottingtail and May, both of whom chuckled in response. Apparently that was very 'like me', whatever that meant. They bid me follow through on my desire, but asked that I return to helping them scout once I made sure Bonus was in bed. *** I landed quietly just out front of the Stalliongrad Suites. After spending the vast majority of the last forty odd years in the company of ghouls, I wasn't used to there being almost nopony up and around all hours of the night. The front doors of the hotel were not locked, but the lights in the lobby were all off. I slipped inside slowly and quietly, not wanting to wake anypony by accident. It was a little put off by how quiet it was, but did my best to move quietly myself. I took to the air when moving past the first floor room that belonged to Peaches, not wanting to wake the ageing, crippled proprietress with my hooffalls. I continued flying right up the stairs to the second floor, only touching down when I reached Bonus' room. I raised a hoof to tap on the door, but stopped short. If she was asleep, I didn't want to wake her up. Instead, I slowly pressed down on the latch with my hoof. The door opened with a click that seemed much louder than it actually was. The door was, thankfully, not creaky as I swung it open, owing I presumed to recent maintenance. Without bothering to shut it behind me, I stepped through the entrance and into the room. There was nopony here. Looking around revealed that the main room of the suite was entirely empty. I could clearly see the table on which Bonus had set up a terminal to use with her PipBuck, but Bonus herself was absent. Walking over to the bedroom, the door of which was open a crack, I thought of May's observations. If Bonus had gone to sleep on her own, my coming here would have been for nothing. I cracked a smile, finding a small amusement in that. I pushed the door open a bit and looked inside, expecting to see Bonus Track asleep on the bed. She wasn't. Pushing the door open all the way, I saw that the bed was still fully made, and hadn't been slept in at all. Bonus Track was gone. Panic raced through me as I quickly checked every nook and cranny of the hotel room. She was nowhere to be found. Back in the main room, I paced back and forth past Bonus' terminal, wondering how she could have disappeared without anypony noticing. Stopping to look at the terminal revealed nothing; it was just entries of what May had reported to her at each half hour interval up to the last one, which was blank. Each one of them had some variant of 'nothing' written beside it. My mind reeled, the gears of my brain spinning fruitlessly trying to figure out how she could have disappeared without anypony noticing. The silence and my thoughts were shattered as a strong gust of wind blew the window on the far side of the main room. Frustrated, but having nothing to vent it on, I flew over to the window and slammed it shut. It was blown open again moments later, forcing me to turn around and shut it again. I placed my hoof on the latch to lock it shut. The latch was broken... no, wait. I strained my bad eye, forcing it to focus on the window in front of me. The latch on the window wasn't broken; the bolt itself had been cut clean through. The window had been locked, and whoever had come in had somehow cut the bolt. My mind tried to ponder how that could have been done, then came to a screeching halt. Why the hell was I wondering about this now? Bonus was almost certainly in danger! However, she hadn't been gone more than half an hour, and May had the tag for her PipBuck. So long as she was still wearing it, I presumed we could track her down. I flew out the now open window, and up the street. *** I found Rottingtail and May not far from where they had been when I left them minutes earlier. I landed clumsily and skidded to a stop in front of them. “Bonus is gone!” I declared with all the urgency I could. “What?” cried May. “How could that be possible, I was-” “We can worry about that later,” I said, cutting her off before she started thinking about it like I had tried to. “You can track her PipBuck right?” May nodded, holding her Pipbuck up and scrolling over to the map. With a few taps of her hoof, a marker appeared. May seemed shocked and more than a little ashamed that she had completely missed what had happened. Bonus' tag was moving deeper into the city, but not very quickly. We could still catch up. At the same time, Rottingtail reared up, firing his rifles into the air. My lazy eye rolled up to a nearby rooftop, where one of the three guards that was patrolling the town that night stopped, looking down to us. I heard shouting in the distance, indicating that the other two had heard the signal as well. “Go,” I urged May, “start following her. I'll tell the guards what I found, then catch up. Keep your horn lit up and I'll find you.” It took a few minutes for the guards to gather together, allowing May and Rottingtail to get a head start chasing after Bonus' signal. I relayed the information to them as quickly as I could, wanting to catch up to my friends before they got too far ahead. The guards were surprised to learn about the cut window bolt, having not seen any other signs of forced entry in the previous abductions. The lead guardpony instructed one of the others to go and check the homes of Haypenny and the other victims for this oversight of theirs. I turned towards the older parts of Stalliongrad, waving a hoof for the guards to follow. Frustratingly, they refused. “That part of the city is crawling with zombies,” claimed the leader. “Ain't goin' anywhere near there without a full squad.” I facehoofed; “You're well armed guard ponies, but you're afraid of a few ferals?” The other guard shook his head; “You'n your friends might be fine, since you're zo- ghouls too, but any normal pony what goes that way is just asking to get eaten alive.” I really wanted to knock some sense into these guards, but time was of the essence. I turned and flew off in the direction I had seen May and Rottingtail running in. I promised myself that when I came back (with Bonus) that they would be in for an earful. Not only that, but we would be putting an end to these abductions once and for all. If the pony who had taken Bonus made it back to wherever he had been coming from, then we would be able to take care of him, and maybe even find out what had happened to the others that had been kidnapped in the preceding weeks. May was not difficult to find; the light from her horn acting as a clear beacon. They had not gotten all that far into the city, achingly slowed by Rottingtail's bad leg. I flew in beside them and landed deftly, breaking into a trot alongside my friends. “Guard's tell me there are ferals around,” I told them without breaking stride. “Jerk was too scared to follow.” May scoffed while Rottingtail nickered in dry amusement; “Never could could count on the living in a pinch; too soft.” May and I both immediately gave him disparaging looks; “We are doing this to save a 'living' pony, remember?” He had the decency to look abashed. I turned to May; “Do you think the other victims might still be there?” May looked away from me, apparently not sure she wanted to answer honestly. “If they are still there, we'll save them and Bonus alike. If not, we'll make sure they're laid to rest.” I nodded, willing to accept that for now. A small, nagging part of me insisted that we would be out of luck, but I did my best to ignore it. We were doing this to save Bonus Track. If the other were still alive, then it would be all the better. As the three of us trotted through the ruins of Stalliongrad into the uninhabited areas, it began to rain. Hard. *** After about an hour of running through Stalliongrad, May brought us to an abrupt halt. We had kept pace with the mysterious abductor, according to the location of Bonus' tag relative to us on May's map. Sadly, Rottingtail's bad leg had kept us from moving fast enough to catch up, and I wasn't about to leave either of them behind when facing off against an unknown and possibly dangerous assailant. Hell, for all we knew there was more than one culprit. We had come to a stop when Bonus' tag had stopping moving. If May's map was accurate, it was inside an office building that apparently used to belong to a publishing company that operated mainly out of Fillydelphia. “Why did we stop?” I asked, taking a glance at May's Pipbuck. We were a few block away from Bonus' tag. May held a hoof up to her muzzle, answering me quietly; “Lotsa red lights on my EFS. Damn thing can't tell a radroach from a manticore though, so I wanna move cautiously. I understood May's desire for our safety, but doing so might be risking Bonus' in exchange. I look at the map on May's Pipbuck. She had it zoomed in to the local area, with our location and Bonus' tag being at the edges of the range. I could make out a few narrow alleys that a pony could fit through, but they wouldn't be wide enough for Rottingtail's battle saddle. He still had his revolver, but I wasn't sure I could ask him to take off his best armaments after May's warning. For the time being, we moved ahead slowly. We could occasionally hear the low moaning sounds that feral ghouls produced, and tried our best to avoid them. The skittering of radroaches we ignored, knowing that they tended to ignore us as well. That seemed to be the extent of the threats the city held, so it wasn't as bad as we might have feared. Moving as quickly as we dared while still remaining quiet, we stuck close to buildings. It wasn't hard to sneak around with the howl of the wind and the pounding of the heavy rainfall. As we drew nearer the building in which Bonus was being held, a flash of lightning struck nearby, illuminating the city around us in a stark contrast. In that brief flash, my lazy eye rolled aside. If it hadn't, we might have been killed. My eye caught the edge of a fluttering cloak in the flash, my body naturally turning towards the sight. My ears perked up as I heard the cocking of a gun, and as I stopped turning, I found myself staring down the business end of an SMG. That SMG was clutched in the talon of a griffon wearing a full body cloak, with the strap of a rifle holder across his breast. A sudden gust of wind blew the rain slicked hood of that cloak back, revealing the griffon's face. Although I didn't know much about griffon physiology, it was evident that this was not a young one. His face was marred with the lines of age, and the crest of plumage atop his head was grey. He was gripping the SMG tightly in a talon, glaring down its sight at me. My lazy eye rolled away, evidently not concerned about the gun in my face. My eye landed on May and Rottingtail, both of whom had turned to face the griffon as well. Rottingtail kicked his battle saddle, which let out loading 'click' noises that I could barely hear over the storm. For a while, all of us stood stark still as the thunder that followed the lightning boomed overhead. No one moved save for Rottingtail, angling his guns for the best possible shot at the griffon. I did not doubt the speed of his firing, but I feared that if the griffon shot first, I wouldn't live to see the return volley. “Wait,” muttered the griffon, his eyes moving off the weapon's sights and on to my friends and I. His voice was gruff and unpleasant, yet somehow forceful. “I saw you in the hotel earlier.” His grip on the gun eased ever so slightly. “You ain't zombies, least not yet.” He lowered the SMG, but didn't put it away. Rottingtail kept his rifles on the griffon. “Ah seen you too. What would a griffon mercenary be doing out here at this time o'night?” Wait, did he think... The griffon scoffed loudly; “I could ask you the same, cadaver.” Rottingtail glared at the griffon; “Ah think we might've found our culprit. Seen him payin' off the hotel owner, an' a griffon's talons are sharp as steel.” “What?!” I exclaimed. “Peaches wouldn't help with something like that,” protested May, “she's-” The griffon cut her off; “You some kinda numbskull? A Talon's gotta pay fer his rooms, same as anyone. The fuck you mean 'culprit' anyways?” “Don't play dumb,” sneered Rottingtail. “Yer the one what's behind the abductions, ain't ya?” The griffon looked dumbfounded. He turned to me; “Is yer friend alright in the head? I just got here this morning. Those abductions have been goin' on fer weeks, according to that radio buck. Hell, a few folks in town even warned me about it while I was lookin' fer intel and resupply.” May stepped in front of Rottingtail, blocking his line of fire; “You know about them?” “Yeah, but that ain't why I'm here,” retorted the griffon. “Got me a different contract. I was only 'bout to shoot you cuz I thought you was zombies.” Rottingtail still seemed suspicious; “If it ain't you, then what are ya'll doin' out here?” “Fulfilling a contract, like I said,” snorted the griffon. He slid his SMG into a holster under his shoulder, apparently looking to avoid undue trouble. I turned to Rottingtail, motioning for him to lower his rifles. He did so, but only reluctantly. “What did you come out here for?” I asked, trying to ease the tension; “Maybe we can help each other out.” The griffon snorted, seeming to take that as either offensive or foolish. Still, he relented a little; “Some crazy old hermit sent me on a fetch quest. Some kinda weird collector; wants me to find a little statue for him.” The griffon scoffed at the notion; “I'd have turned him down but for the huge reward he offered. Freak wouldn't even meet me in person; kept sending me messages through those flyin' radios.” My mental gears spun, going back to the Trottingham MoM hub. I thought of the sprite-bot that had suddenly told me how to find the dash purging agent for May. Was it the same pony? That seemed ridiculously unlikely, given the distance between Stalliongrad and Trottingham, not to mention the fact that the griffon had certainly gotten the transmission somewhere else before coming here. More likely, hacking into the broadcasters of sprite-bots must have been simple, considering the openness of their broadcasting frequency. It was a rather strange way of communicating if you ask me. The griffon continued; “The ball and chain has been beggin' me to retire for a while now, but that ain't easy out here in the wastes. So I took the job, figuring it would be simple, and the reward would be enough to settle down. Problem is, I had to follow a massive trail of terminal entries all over Equestria to find the damn thing. Didn't help that Ministry of Image hubs don't advertise as much as the others.” I was rather surprised with how open this griffon was about his mission. Despite his age, he still had a lot of size and power over a pony. He probably figured we weren't a threat. “Is it somewhere in this city?” I asked. “Maybe;” replied the griffon. “According to the last bit of info I found; the MI's top magician came here at some point after the megaspells. He had the thing on him, so hopefully he died here and I can get it and be done with this venture.” May stepped forward, raising her Pipbuck to the griffon; “I don't suppose this building was that hub, was it?” The griffon cast his glance at the map. He actually smirked; “Well, how about that. Looks like we might be headin' the same way after all.” The griffon scratched his beak with a talon; “Tell you what; you use that fancy little map of yours to help me find what I'm looking fer quicker, and I'll see if I can help ya deal with this whole kidnapping thing.” The griffon offered May a talon, and she shook it with her PipBuck foreleg. “I'm May Cure,” she said, then gestured to Rottingtail and I. “These are my companions, Ditzy Doo and Sheriff Rottingtail.” The griffon smirked; “Gnarl Grimfeathers.” *** Although Rottingtail still seemed to be unconvinced that Gnarl was friendly, I was glad to have another ally. Having witnessed the combat prowess of a Talon first hoof, I felt much more confident about what we were going up against, despite not knowing who or what it was. He also turned out to be adept at sneaking through the urban environment, allowing us to reach a secluded alley across the street from the publishing office. Unfortunately for us, the entrance was blocked. A small herd of feral ghouls shuffled around the front doors of the building, looking almost like guard dogs. There were seven of them in all. My lazy eye rolled up, catching a glimpse of the building where Bonus was being held. I really hoped we were still in time to prevent something from happening to her. Unfortunately, none of the windows looked big enough for us to fit through, especially with how much bigger our new griffon companion was. It was just as well; the wind sheer and rain from the storm would make flying unencumbered difficult, and next to impossible if carrying one of my friends. That left us with just the one way in. I slipped Stronghoof's rifle off my back and brought it up to my mouth. Before I could get my eye to the scope, Gnarl grabbed the barrel of the rifle and wrenched it out of my mouth. “You some kinda moron?” he whispered forcibly. “You fire a gun like that and the whole damn town'll hear it.” As much as I was put off by the ache in my muzzle from the griffon's forceful grabbing, he had a point. My rifle was exceptionally loud, even when accounting for the roaring wind and heavy rain. I let the strap fall over my neck, where I could pull it up quickly if I needed to. As I watched, Gnarl slipped his own rifle off his back. His was a powerful looking rifle all on its own; I wondered how it compared in to mine in stopping power. His however, was semi-automatic instead of a bolt action, and fitted with a suppressor. He brought the scope up to his eye, the edge of the barrel poking out of the alley we were currently hiding in. Pfft. The griffon's rifle made barely a noise as he flicked the trigger with a talon. I could barely hear it this close, so the sound would have been entirely lost to the storm across the street. Judging by the odd grip he had around the weapon's bit, I could tell that it was a pony made weapon. The irony of him using that while I had a rifle that was originally a griffon design was not lost on me. I was a bit envious; the semi-automatic action made the bolt of my rifle painfully slow by comparison. I watched the zombie ponies across the street as Gnarl fired at them. His first shot punched clean through the head of one of them, who flopped over like a rag doll. Between it being night, storming, and the shot being effectively silent, the other ghouls took absolutely no notice. They simply kept on shambling. Gnarl fired off four more shots, each expertly dropping one of the ghouls. It was only after five of them were down that the remaining two seemed to finally notice. His rifle empty and not wanting to waste time reloading, Gnarl slung it back over his back. He latched his claws on the buildings on either side of the alley, using them to throw himself into the air. As I watched, he briefly unfurled his wings from beneath the cloak he wore, showing off their impressive span. He glided across the street, then pulled in his wings, dropping like a rock. Gnarl landed atop one of the remaining ghouls, crushing its soft, fleshy body under his weight. Before the other one could react, the griffon's talons flashed, tearing half of its face off. It collapsed in a gurgling heap. “You coming?” asked Gnarl, smirking at us from across the street. He pulled off his rifle and reloaded it while we trotted over to join him. *** The door to the old publishing office was unlocked, and we were able to slip inside easily. The inside was a mess of scorched papers, toppled shelves, dilapidated cubicles and pony skeletons. I watched as Gnarl trotted over to a nearby cubicle, but snorted derisively as he saw the terminal sitting upon it was completely fried. He walked back over to us, saying nothing. Meanwhile May was turning on the spot, using her EFS to scout the building. “I can see Bonus' tag,” she said, “and she's on my EFS along with one hostile. I just don't know what floor she's on.” I felt pleased by this news, but also saddened. Bonus was still alright, but the lack of other indicators implied that the others who had been abducted were no longer alive. Still, we would save Bonus, of that I was certain. Mercifully, the building only had six floors for us to search. Growing anxious, I looked around, hoping to find stairs up to the next floor quickly. May found them first; guided by the auto-map of her PipBuck. We proceeded quickly up the flight of stairs to the second floor, but the entrance to that floor had collapsed, preventing us from getting in for a proper search. We pushed through up to the third storey, this time able to access the floor itself. It was filled with more of the same of what we had seen on the first floor; shelves, cubicles, broken terminals and the skeletons of ponies eighty years dead. We searched the floor quickly, only stopping to pull open a medical box in the employee bathroom. It yielded a couple rolls of bandages, a syringe of painkillers and two healing potions. I was thankful for these, as May had left most of her healing supplies back on the Renewal with Bright, only taking a sparse amount for ourselves. Leaving the third floor behind us, we moved up to the fourth. This time, we saw something completely different. All of the cubicles had been either dismantled or destroyed, the remaining bits and pieces of them piled on the floor near the walls. The floor itself, the parts of it that I could see, were covered in barely legible chalk writing that was comprised of unintelligible squiggles and glyphs that I could make absolutely no sense of. However, what caught out attention most of all, were t he bodies. There were eight bodies that we could see, laid against the side of the wall to our left. I felt deeply disturbed, knowing almost instinctively that these were the other ponies who had been kidnapped. They seemed to progress in the range of their decay; with the one closest to us being the most decomposed, while the one near the door at the opposite end of the room could have almost been still alive. I felt tears forming; it was almost as though the victims had been put on display. Whoever was responsible for this needed to be stopped, and we were going to make sure Bonus didn't suffer the same fate. The disturbing nature of the corpses grew even before May began to magically examine them for the cause of death. It was difficult to tell with the first one, being that much more decomposed than the others, but the kidnapping victims all had something in common. Each and every one of them was a unicorn, a mare, and, perhaps most bizarrely, they all had white coats. Their manes were different colours, but it was evident that whoever was responsible had some kind of obsession. They also had matching scars on their breasts, right next to where their hearts would be. May was examining each of the mares in turn with her magic. She had a pained look on her face, and seemed on the verge of throwing up. “This is unreal,” she proclaimed. “Every single one of them was stabbed in the exact same place, but there's no bloodstains anywhere on their coats, despite the proximity to their hearts. It's almost as though the wounds were cauterized from the inside.” I only understood half of what May had said, but it still made me feel sick. However, I restrained myself, not wanting to desecrate the victims by vomiting here. May reached the last body, eyeing it oddly. Her horn lit up as she tried to examine it, then she let out a shriek as it began to move. The body of the victim from the week before began to move, almost as though May's magic had animated it. She backed away, her face going pale, which was not an easy thing for a ghoul. The body rolled over onto its stomach, then proceeded to get it- her hooves under her, pushing herself into a standing position. Even from the other side of the room here I could see her dull, lifeless eyes. I might have thought her a zombie if she hadn't still had her mane, tail and coat. The unicorn mare's body cantered awkwardly towards May, who couldn't even seem to form a scream in her throat. Then I heard the 'pfft' of Gnarl's rifle, seeing the bullet pass through the mare's head, her body dropping to the floor, once again a lifeless corpse. Without putting his rifle away, Gnarl trotted over to the mare's body, prodding it with a talon to make sure that it was going to stay dead. At the same time, I flew over to May and pulled her into a hug. She didn't cry, but she definitely looked hurt. She hugged me back briefly, but then pushed me away, standing up and turning on the spot, scanning the other bodies with her EFS. She appeared briefly relieved. Gnarl, having decided that the mare was indeed dead, slipped his rifle back over his back. “That was the hostile mark,” claimed May, after having looked around in a full circle. “Bonus' tag is through there,” she noted, pointing at the door opposite the one we had come in through. “There's nopony else here.” That struck me as odd; if the corpse was somehow the hostile entity, then who was the kidnapper? Had we gotten lucky and arrived while the culprit was out. Considering the previous instances, it wouldn't surprise me that whoever was responsible seemed to think he could get away without being followed. “Alright then,” I declared. “Look for a key to that door, then we'll-” Before I could finish, I heard a click coming from the door. Turning on the spot, I saw Gnarl standing next to it, a screwdriver clutched in one talon and a bobby pin in the other. “What?” He said at our gawking; “You never seen someone pick a lock before?” I facehoofed; that possibility had indeed never occurred to me before. “Alright then, let's go in and get Bonus. After we make sure she's safe, we can wait for the culprit to come back and take care of him once and for all.” May, Rottingtail and I trotted up to the door behind Gnarl. With a a wave of my hoof, I motioned for him to open it. He did so, swinging it as wide as it would go. *** For a moment, I thought that I was looking into a deep, dark abyss through that door. After taking a moment for my eyes to adjust, I could begin to see that was not the case. The room beyond the door was dark, with no windows letting light in, and only a few small specs of light coming from inside. Even with the door wide open, the light did not seem to want to enter the chamber, almost as if it was afraid of whatever darkness lay beyond. I gulped, then took a step inside. Upon stepping inside, I felt my skin begin to crawl, almost as though there was lightning in the air. A cold shiver went down my spine for reasons I'm still not sure of. However, stepping inside also seemed to forcibly adjust my eyes, giving me a better view of the room. It was still pitch dark, but somehow I could see better from the inside. The floor was adorned with a bizarre magical array covered with glyphs and squiggles that resembled the ones chalked on the floor outside. Except that these ones had apparently been drawn in blood. Every so often, I could see a small glowing gemstone or candle within the array, providing the small points of light that I had seen from outside. At the exact center of the array was Bonus Track. She was not bound in any way, and instead had her limbs sprawled to match the points of a six pointed star that was part of the mysterious array. Her eyes had a glazed look that I knew all too well as a symptom of dash inhalation; I reasoned that her assailant had drugged her. However, that was a secondary concern to the large sword floating in the air over her breast, suspended in a field of magical levitation. The sword itself seemed somehow sinister; made of a shimmering blue metal that I could not identify. It almost seemed that just looking at it chilled me to the bone. It was painfully obvious what was about to happen. I was suddenly aware that the room was not silent. Ever since I had entered there had been a soft chanting going on that I hadn't full perceived until just now. It was quiet and foreign, but somehow I knew that it was bad. I looked around frantically, trying to find the source of the magic holding the sword over Bonus. I couldn't see anything, so I swivelled my ears, trying to find the muffled voice. Strangely, it seemed as though it was coming from throughout the entire room. I was deeply disturbed by the whole scene, but kept it suppressed out of concern for Bonus Track. Then, the soft, incomprehensible chanting was suddenly replaced by speech that I could understand. It was still muffled, but I strained my ears, hoping to find its source. “Yes Mistress, I am sure that this time will be a success.” There was no response, but it seemed as though there was still a part of the conversation I was missing. “I know that she is weak in body Mistress, but that was the mistake we made on all the others before.” The one speaking seemed completely oblivious to Another brief moment of silence followed as the unseen and unheard second party apparently spoke again, before the voice I could hear spoke yet again. “Her body may be weak, but her soul is strong. I even used your mirror to examine it myself. As well, I have perfected the grafting method after the last one. I am entirely certain that this will work.” My lazy eye rolled to the side, catching Gnarl moving forward and reaching into his cloak. I held a hoof out to stop him; one wrong move would get Bonus skewered. I just needed to pinpoint where that voice was. “You always said I was the best at cutting things, but now I need to put something back together. I know it hurts you to know that the others perished, but without Snails, I didn't have a proper guide. I had to learn how to do the rest myself. It may have taken a few attempts, but this time it will work. Just watch Mistress, you'll see.” It was now or never. I stepped forward and called into the room; “Show yourself!” *** There was a moment of pregnant silence as my voice seemed to echo inside the small, dark chamber. Then, something shimmered in the air in front of me. The hood of a cloak fell away from a head that almost looked like it was floating disembodied in the air. The shimmering progressed down the length of the cloak, which suddenly became visible. The head, the only part I could see clearly, belonged to a unicorn ghoul stallion. The clasp of his cloak bore a gem that much have been enchanted; the cloak could make him invisible! It was suddenly very clear how he had gone unnoticed for two months. Beside me, I could see May was visibly shocked at the appearance of the other ghoul; it would seem that the cloak also hid him from her EFS. The glow around his horn matched the magic surrounding the blade that was pointed at Bonus' chest. “I'm terribly sorry,” he said. His voice was husky, even for a ghoul, but he spoke with the mannerisms of a gentlecolt. “I am in the middle of something of dire importance at the moment. I don't suppose your business can wait.” With the hood of the magical cloak down, his voice was no longer muffled. Strangely though, I found I couldn't smell him. This ghoul was not feral, but probably a different kind of insane entirely. Unless there was another invisible pony somewhere in the room, he had been talking to himself. I felt conflicted; I wanted to stop him, but I couldn't act rashly, otherwise Bonus would be killed. Maybe if I could keep him talking, one of my companions could think of something. “Who were you talking to?” “Why, my Mistress of course,” replied the ghoul. His voice seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn't place it. “I have been working for her even after our deaths. But soon, everything will be put right.” His ears perked as though he was hearing somepony talk to him. He turned his head and replied into his cloak; “No Mistress, I don't know who they are. Perhaps they have come to bear witness to your return.” “Who is this Mistress of yours?” I asked, casting furtive glances to my companions. Unfortunately, they all seemed as uncertain as I was. The ghoul stallion looked perplexed; “How can you not know my Mistress? She was the Mare of the Ministry of Image; everypony from before knew who she was.” “Wait,” I stammered, “you mean Rarity?” The ghoul stallion nodded, giving me a discomforting smile; “Indeed!” The glow around his horn flickered, and something wrapped in a field of magic floated out of his cloak. It was a pristine statuette of a gorgeous white unicorn with a purple mane and tail, with three gemstones for her cutie mark. The base of the statuette was engraved with the words 'Be Unwavering!'. My lazy eye again fell on Gnarl, and his expression told me that this was the very same statue he had been sent in search of. “Where did you get that?” asked Gnarl, eyeing the statuette. I could see that he was thinking about how he could acquire it for himself. “I found it after the megaspells,” replied the ghoul. I was glad for his talkativeness, but we still weren't making any progress. “I helped the Mistress create them, so perhaps I had some kind of connection. After the Mistress died in Canterlot, the fragment within this vessel called out to me. It took me so long to find her, but once I did, she told me what I must do.” Wait, this pony thought that the statuette was Rarity? Wait, no; he kept saying that she had died. Then what exactly was he planning on doing with a statuette? I knew that Bonus' life was in danger, but I felt compelled to understand what had happened for the sake of the victims; “What did she tell you?” “Look around you,” replied the ghoul, gesturing with a hoof. “Equestria has died along with my Mistress. What it needs more than anything is a beacon of hope; a shining light in the darkness. Somepony that can restore it to its former beauty. What better beacon than that of one of the greatest heroines of all pony kind? What better pony to restore beauty than the one who understood it best?” Wait, he couldn't possibly mean... “Do you mean... bringing Rarity back from the dead?” I shuddered at the very notion of such a thing. Yet somehow, given the ritual array around me, it seemed like exactly what he was trying to accomplish. Bonus and the other mares were sacrifices for this unholy ritual. I was shook to my very core by the foulness of the idea. I was so sickened that I couldn't even empty my stomach. I was only half right. “Mistress Rarity may be dead, but fragments of her soul linger, undying, contained within the vessels. I am partly responsible for her being in such a state, so it seems only fitting that I should be the one to try and correct it.” I had no idea what he was talking about. “The Mistress has survived on such a small fragment before, so all I needed was a suitable host for it.” Before I could ask anything else (not that I was sure I wanted to), Gnarl snarled next to me; “Enough of this shit.” His talon disappeared into his cloak, drawing out his SMG. He quickly had it pointed at the ghoul stallion and opened fire. As Gnarl drew out his weapon, the ghouls' horn flared with magic. He did not move, but the sword he had been holding over Bonus flew between the two of them with blinding speed. Just as Gnarl pulled the trigger, the sword began to spin in the air, moving so fast that it blurred into a solid disc. I ducked and threw my hooves over my head, fearing the ricochet. I heard the bullets clang against the whirling blade, but the sound was not followed by a ricochet. Rather, the sound to a number of small objects falling to the floor was all I heard. Only when Gnarl stopped firing did I dare to look. With my gaze on the floor, I could see the bullets from the griffon's SMG. They had all been flattened, like they had run into a wall. My lazy eye rolled over to Gnarl, who looked dumbfounded. “...the hell?” The ghoul unicorn held the sword out in front of him. “Remarkable, isn't it?” he asked. Without waiting for a response, he glanced at the sword in front of him, apparently not concerned that he had just been shot at. “Mistress needed me to prove that I was strong enough to save her, so I did to myself what I did to her. I used this sword for the vessel; made it myself from the finest of metals. Appropriate for somepony who's special talent is cutting things, no?” This ghoul was totally cracked, but now his sword was no longer floating over Bonus Track. Now we could deal with him without her being in immediate danger. As one might expect, everything went to hell right then and there. *** May acted before I could even finish my thought process. Her horn flared up with magical light as a similar field enveloped the ghoul stallion's sword. Her blanket of telekinesis wrapped around his, presumably with the intent of disarming the ghoul. Then she started screaming. Her magic evaporated and she fell to the floor, clutching her head in obvious pain. I had no idea what to make of it other than to lay down next to her and lay a hoof across her shoulders. She shoved me away, tears streaming down her face as she screamed. I felt hurt and confused, having no knowledge of magic to fall back on. Rottingtail and Gnarl both looked furious. The ghoul stallion's expression changed; “I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I need to be able to concentrate on this undertaking and your friend's screaming is frustrating. Mistress Rarity would be appalled.” However, we weren't about to leave, not a chance. Gnarl moved first, tossing aside his SMG and pulling out another small weapon. When he fired it, thin lines of red magical energy shot out, streaking through the air with a zorching sound. The ghoul didn't move at all, his sword instead flipping around in the air, into the path of each shot. As each shot struck the odd blue blade, it began to glow as the energy blasts heated the metal. If Gnarl kept that up, the sword would melt, and the ghoul would no longer be a threat. Gnarl emptied the magical energy pistol, with the ghoul stallion blocking each shot deftly with his levitated blade. When it stopped moving, I could see that it was glowing red hot, the air around it sizzling with hear. However, the blade did not melt. The glow faded all too quickly, almost like the sword was consuming the magical energy. I was worried now; this sword was something else, and the way the ghoul wielded it was insane. I felt powerless, just like I had against Emerald and the Steel Rangers. Once again, my inability to help in a fight was going to get my friends killed. Before Gnarl could do anything, the ghoul lashed out with the blade, bringing its impossibly sharp edge to bear on the Talon. The elder griffon had no room to manoeuvre in the small room, and was only able to stagger to the side. The blade missed piercing Gnarl's chest, instead running through his cloak along his side. The blade cut cleanly through the cloth, the combat armour underneath, and straight through his wing. The griffon howled in pain, falling to the side, clutching the stump where his wing had been severed. My lazy eye rolled over the griffon, but his severed wing wasn't bleeding, not even an ounce. The gash had been burned shut even as the sword passed through the flesh. The sword hovered near the griffon's head, aiming to chop it clean off. The image of Gilda's head rolling away passed through my mind. Not this time! I kicked up Stronghoof's rifle, catching the rifle's bit in my mouth. Just as I was bringing the scope to my good eye, the blue steel of the strange sword passed in front of my sight. For the second time that night the gun was ripped from my mouth, this time as the ghoul's sword cut clean through the rifle and the strap at the same time. The two halves of the rifles clattered to the floor in a heap, the shot in the chamber spilling out of the tube onto the floor. Before I could do anything else, I found myself staring down the blade of that strange, frightening sword, the tip less than an inch from my lazy eye. I was shaking, unable to process much of anything right now. My heart felt tight in my chest, even though it wasn't being attacked magically. A shot rang out from my left side; the familiar bang of Rottingtail's rifles. I yelped as the blade sliced through the air in front of me, the clang of the blade deflecting the shot resounding through the room. I turned my head to look at Rottingtail, the barrel of his rifle still smoking. He clamped down hard on the bit of his battle saddle, firing off shot after shot in rapid succession. Despite the speed of his firing, the ghoul unicorn's blade moved far too quickly and fluidly. Each and every shot struck the blade, falling to the floor dead just like the round from Gnarl's SMG. Eventually, both of Rottingtail's rifles clicked on empty chambers. He hung his head, knowing that the speed of the ghoul's blade would cut him down before he could reload. Rottingtail's head jerked up with remarkable speed; faster than I had ever seen him move before. His revolver was clutched in his teeth. The speed of his movement seemed to shock even the other ghoul stallion. Six shots rang out from Rottingtail's revolver almost fast enough to be perceived as simultaneous. Startled, the ghoul took a step back, his sword swinging into the path of the bullets as before. I only heard five clangs. The sixth sound was a sickening crack, followed by a 'thunk' as the sword fell, embedding itself in the floor. Turning my gaze back to the unicorn ghoul stallion, I saw that the crack was from his horn. Rottingtail's last shot had struck home, shattering the appendage and embedding itself in the unicorns forehead. Without his horn, the unicorn's magic had imploded, dropping his sword. The ghoul staggered back a few paces, then fell over onto his side. Blood began to pool around his head, flowing steadily from the wound. As he fell, something small and round rolled out of his cloak, coming to a stop at my hooves. It was a mirror. I stepped over the small mirror, approaching the dying ghoul. His breathing was shallow and vapid. “Why?” He asked, looking up at me. “This world needs somepony like Mistress Rarity.” He began to cry, his tears flowing into the ichorous pool of blood beneath his head. “Why couldn't I save her?” Finally, things slowed down and the gears in my head clicked. This ghoul was somepony I had known, albeit only in passing. I remembered his name, and the name of the friend he had mentioned earlier. Snips and Snails; two young colts from Ponyville, close enough to have been brothers. At least, they had been. Once again, the war had twisted such wonderful ponies into shadows of their former selves. As so many times before, the cost had been dire. “This is wrong Snips,” I said calmly, shaking my head. “Rarity wouldn't want this.” “But,” protested Snips, “Rarity gave so much...” He began to go pale as he bled out; “She gave everything to try and save Equestria. She deserved the chance to try again. She could have made everything right...” I shook my head again, placing a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “It's okay Snips; I'm sure Rarity is waiting for you. Snails should be there too.” A small smile appeared on his muzzle, then his eyes glassed over, dead. *** After closing Snips' eyes, I turned and looked at what had be come of my friends. Rottingtail was unharmed, and I could hear his battle saddle reloading from here. May had stopped screaming the moment Rottingtail had shot Snips, and had pulled herself up while I spoke to the dying unicorn ghoul. Her horn was glowing, a similar light around Gnarl's severed wing. She had out every single healing supply we had, and was trying to reattach it. She seemed to forget about what had happened to her when someone else was in dire shape, but I told myself I would ask her what had happened when she touched that bizarre sword with her magic. I never did get an answer. I began to walk forward, and felt a cold shock as I stepped on something. Looking down, I saw the small, round mirror that Snips had been carrying. I withdrew my hoof, looking at my reflection. Only, it wasn't my reflection. I could see myself in the mirror, but I wasn't looking at myself as I was now. The me looking back from the mirror was me from nearly a hundred years prior, back when I still had skin... and hair. I had no idea what to make of the strange image, yet felt compelled to keep watching it. As I looked into the mirror, the younger version of myself smiled broadly back at me. Then, somehow, she (I?) produced a sheet of bubble-wrap and began playfully popping the bubbles. For whatever reason, I was able to hear them in my head, along with the laughter of my former self. I looked back at my flank, marred by my decayed skin and lack of a coat. I found myself remembering the time when I got my cutie-mark, even though I had effectively lost it to my mutation. The memory made me smile, but when I turned back to look at the mirror again, the image of the younger me had faded. I was left with the reflection of my ghoulish self. Was I still the same pony as the one I had just seen, or was this the real me now? It was a strange sensation, but I turned away from the mirror, looking over at Bonus Track. The albino mare was still spaced out on dash, reminding me that the drug lasted a lot longer on normal ponies than on ghouls. I started to trot towards her, looking to make sure she hadn't been harmed otherwise. Before I could reach her, I heard thunderous hoofsteps coming up the stairs. Stepping out of the strangely dark room, I saw a group of Stalliongrad guards, led by the captain from earlier. Apparently he had indeed felt comfortable coming in after us after he had a half dozen others with him. The guard captain looked around at the corpses, then to me. “What happened here?” *** After relaying the story of what had happened to the guards, My friends and I had spent the following two days recovering. May had managed to reattach Gnarl's wing, but there was some severe damage to the muscles and tendons. It would be some time before he could fly again, and even then he wouldn't be anywhere near as adept as he should have been. Rottingtail had helped the town guards bring back the bodies of the other victims Snips had claimed so they could be properly buried. I never found out for sure what he had been trying to do, but then again, I knew nothing of magic to begin with. Rottingtail buried him on his own, along with the sword, cloak, and mirror that had been his. As per our agreement, the statuette of Rarity was given to Gnarl so that he could complete his contract. At present, all of us were sitting in the parlour of Stalliongrad Suites, Bonus Track once again telling us what had happened to her. “It was crazy! I was just about to check in when my window bursts open. I turn around but there's nopony there. I thought I just forgot to lock 'em, but then I see this funky glow and a dash inhaler appears in front of my face. I was so startled that I gasped, but that just sucked the stuff in before I could think about it and then I started tripping.” I was pleased to see that her experiences had not dampened Bonus' enthusiasm. I'm not sure I would have held up as well in her place. As well, I could tell that my friends were not faring so well either. May hadn't told me anything about what had happened to her, aside from the sensation of touching Snips' sword with her magic being 'vile'. I suppose I couldn't understand it better than that anyways, knowing nothing of magic. Rottingtail had barely said a word since shooting the other ghoul stallion. I couldn't blame him; not even two days earlier he had been on a vendetta to avenge the death of a number of ghouls, and was suddenly put back in the position of having to kill an insane one. My friends and I really needed a break; these past two weeks had been more harrowing than the previous two decades. “But anyways, I wanted to thank you guys again for coming to help me,” Bonus continued, oblivious to the more solemn moods of my friends and I. “Not only did you save my tail, but you put this whole abduction thing to rest. I'm gonna head back to Tenpony Tower soon and tell DJ P0N-3 about all you did, plus all the stuff about Trottingham and that flying ship thingy.” I managed to give her a smile; her mood was a little infectious. We were interrupted by the arrival of Peaches. She wheeled her chair up next to our table, followed by a unicorn stallion that was in her employ. He was floating four plates of her (relatively) fresh salad, which he set down in front of each of us. Gnarl had passed when offered earlier; he had a preference for meat. “On the house,” Peaches claimed, waving the waiter away. She gave a sarcastic smirk; “Bonus still owes me for the room and food for the past couple days. Can't pay me if she's dead.” Bonus actually looked mildly offended at that; “C'mon Peaches, these ghouls are heroes! They saved me and stopped that crazy kidnapper. Not to mention all the stuff they've been doin' to help other ghouls.” Peaches scoffed; “Heroes huh? Want my advice?” I raised an eyebrow. “Retire while you have the chance. Being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be.” It was May who spoke up next; “How can you say that?” she asked, looking at Peaches. “You used to be a heroine yourself.” She did? I racked my brain, trying to remember if I had heard about her before. My lazy eye rolled down to her wheelchair, and it clicked. ...the pony you refer to as the 'Iron Mare' (Her name is Peaches by the way)... paralysed from the waist back for the rest of her life. Peaches looked at May with an expression of weariness. “Yeah, I used to be the Iron Mare. It seemed like a good idea at the time, then this happened;” she gestured to her wheelchair. “Not only did I get myself messed up, but I inspired a whole bunch of kids to go out and get themselves killed. Gardenia, Ruby, Dandy Apple, Card Trick, Mashed Potatoes.” The Stalliongrad Seven, or at least, five of them. “Now Haypenny and Strider are gone too. Yet somehow, I'm still here.” Peaches voice was filled with regret. “But,” I protested, chiming in, “the Stalliongrad Seven did a lot of good. They gave their lives trying to save good, innocent ponies.” “Tell me then,” said Peaches wearily, addressing us ghouls. “You've been around since before Equestria was a wasteland; have things gotten any better?” I didn't have an answer. Peaches took my silence as the response she was looking for; “The wasteland chews heroes up and spits out their carcasses. Do some good and quit while you're ahead. Maybe you'll at least get some happiness out of it.” With that, Peaches rolled her way out of the parlour, leaving us to eat in silence. Only Bonus Track seemed to have any hint of an appetite after that. *** The following day, Gnarl got the okay from May to fly again. She had removed the bandages and brace from his wing, revealing a gruesome scar where it had been severed. Gnarl claimed it felt itchy, but otherwise fine. “Looks like one of us will be retiring,” claimed the ageing Talon, eyeing the scar. “Still, got the wife and three hatchlings to go back to, so it won't be too bad.” “You really should rest longer,” May claimed, admonishing the griffon. “A wound like that-” Gnarl cut her off; “Yeah yeah, severe trauma and all that. I've been a merc for over fifty years, I've had worse.” Obviously he was lying, but he seemed confident enough. “Besides, I'll be walking around town until I can find one of those radio robots to tell my contact I got what he was lookin' for.” May nodded, seeming to begrudgingly accept that. “Just don't overdo it.” Gnarl smirked and turned to depart from Stalliongrad Suites. Before he did however, he slung the silenced sniper rifle off his back. He turned back to me and laid the rifle at my hooves. “Almost forgot,” he said. He also fished around in his cloak for a case of ammo, which he set next to the gun. “You lost yours keepin' me from losing my head, so I figure I owe ya for it.” I nodded slowly, taking a moment to process the gift. It hadn't occurred to me at the time, due to the other things going on, but the loss of Stronghoof's rifle had been a blow. I had been using that gun for a little over forty years, and it had been like another friend. Not only that, but I had felt the rifle carried a bit of Stronghoof's spirit with it. He had wanted to be a hero, like Big Macintosh, but had failed because of circumstances beyond his control. The fact that I kept using his rifle to help other ponies had been, in my mind at least, a way for him to rest easier in spite of his shortcomings. While the offering of a replacement was practical, I wondered if it wouldn't be a betrayal somehow. I picked the rifle up in my teeth anyways, testing it. It was remarkably light, which would mean a lot softer kick than Stronghoof's old rifle. It was in good condition, and was, except perhaps in raw power, ultimately superior to my rifle. “Alright,” I said after setting the rifle back down, “but do you think you could do one thing for me?” I told the griffon my request and he shrugged, picking up the rifle. He pulled out his magical energy pistol, firing a single shot at the shoulder brace of the sniper rifle, heating the metal. He slipped the pistol away and raised a single talon, carving two words into the stock of the gun. 'Stronghoof's Legacy'. He set the newly renamed rifle at my hooves again, then turned to depart from the hotel. I smiled, thankful for the favour. This way I could keep Stronghoof's desire to do good in the new rifle as well. I picked up the rifle, dropping it quickly because it was still warm. After waiting a minute, I picked it up again and slung it over my back. Despite what Peaches said about heroes, I still had some determination left. I remembered seeing the image of my younger self smiling in Snips' mirror. Even if I could no longer go back to being that pony, I could certainly try my damnedest to make sure that others might have a chance at that kind of carefree life again. I didn't want to be a hero, I just wanted to do some good for as many ponies as I could. Footnote: Status Update! Current Status: Non-Feral Ghoul Lucidity: Moderately-High Ghoul Tip: Legacies and tragedies – Getting caught up in your past is a sure way to drive yourself crazy. Don't get hung up on the past, or you'll find your mind gets stuck there, leaving you with nothing for the present.