Fallout Equestria: Aces High

by Vinyl Scoot

Ch. 5: Machine

Chapter 5: Machine

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“You are Doctor Smiles?”

“Yes, sir. May I ask how long this will take? I would like to get back to my testing.”

“This won’t be long at all, Doctor. Do you remember what happened roughly five years ago?”

“Look at my eyepatch, I don’t think I could forget. It’s in the past though. Why bring it up?”

“I’ve been getting reports of this so-called “Outcast.” It’s more than just him and the merchant, apparently.”

“Is there any reason this should interest me?”

“There are two others with him. A unicorn and a ghoul.”

“And I should care why?”

“The report says she goes by the name of Symptom. Known to you of course as-”

“40672. But the papers said she died in her escape! She didn’t make it out the city walls!”

“We may have fudged it to keep the civilians from worrying.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell anypony who was affected by the break-out?”

“We didn’t think it mattered. But I pulled up her file. I’m guessing she would want some kind of revenge?”

“The feeling’s mutual, sir.”

“I’m sure it is, but I need you to stay here.”

“Knowing her, she’ll come straight for me if she comes back.”

“So are you saying she’s the principal danger in the group and not the pegasus?”

“To me at least. And probably to any scientist here.”

“That’s all I needed to know. I’ll post more guards to your building, Doctor.”

“Thank you, sir. But what about your safety? She won’t stop with us.”

“Let me worry about that, Smiles. Dismissed.”

************

It’d been less than a week and I already missed life in Cormount. Sure everypony there hated me, but I knew my way around the city well enough to avoid fights. And even if I dropped my guard, I could hold my own against some of the best. It’s not like I really needed friends to live. Cormount was safe. The imposing walls didn’t threaten me like they did the rest of the city. I even remember seeing Panther tremble in fear while staring at the wall. Sure he wasn’t a complete adult yet, but both of us had our cutie marks at the time.

I sat perched on a building, watching Panther and a few older colts amble along the road to the wall. The road that led to the wall, oddly enough the part of the wall that Pride’s raiders broke through later, was surrounded by just as menacing buildings, none of which having been occupied in the past few decades. Down by the streets, lampposts stood staggered on each side and made a desperate attempt to fight the darkness.

I couldn’t hear what the colts were saying, but I knew this was some ritual, ceremony, test, initiation, whatever you want to call it, for Panther to get into their little gang. The group stopped at the wall and, after a few minutes of heckling, there was a large explosion of laughter, and all but Panther departed. He sat staring at the wall.

A few minutes passed. Panther sat like a statue, hypnotized by the wall.

I couldn’t resist. I flew over to the lamppost nearest to him and deftly perched on the top of it. “Hey, Panther! Whatcha’ doin there?” I called out.

He jumped, prompting me to let out a chuckle. He looked up at me and glared. “What do you want, Ace?”

I jumped down and smoothly landed between him and the wall. He took a menacing step towards me, looked up at the wall, and stepped back. I jumped on this opportunity. “Aww, is the big bad Panther afraid of the bigger badder wall? Some friends you have there, leaving you with the scary bricks.”

Panther narrowed his eyes. “Can it, you oversized hummingbird, or I’ll rip your wings off with my teeth.”

I put on a winning smile. “That’s no way to behave. Maybe if you were nicer to other ponies, they wouldn’t ditch you by this frightening monstrosity.”

Panther continued to glare at me, though having dealt with him for the bigger portion of my life, it didn’t faze me. What did faze me, however, was him dropping the glare for puppy-dog eyes. “It wouldn’t scare me if I could just fly right over it like you could.”

My smile disappeared. Panther was admitting a weakness? “Uh... are you alright? Normally by now you’re trying to jump up and hit me while I float just above your reach...”

He looked down at the ground shamefully. “I’m not in the mood right now.”

I detected an opportunity to find a weakness with my rival. “Is something wrong?” I faked a concerned voice. Well, more concealing the excitement than faking concern.

Panther glanced back up at me. “I don’t want to go home.”

I was really curious now. “Why not? You have something to go home to. If anypony should be depressed about going home, it’s me.”

Panther started to glare again. “You don’t have my family. To tell the truth, I don’t ever want to go home. I want to get out of this city.”

I started to feel a little angry. “Why would you want to leave? Ponies like you here. They don’t like me. If anything, I should want to leave the city.”

“So why don’t you? You don’t have any ties here, everypony hates you, me included. Why are you still here?”

I turned and looked up to the top of the wall. “There’s nothing out there for me either. And to be honest,” I looked back at Panther, “the outside world scares me. It’s not the wall, it’s the whole ‘out there.’ If this city’s a puddle, the rest of Equestria is an ocean.”

Panther nodded in agreement. “I see what you mean. I’m afraid of the wall because it’s large and imposing, but outside,” he shuddered, “it’s even bigger.”

I walked over to him and put my hoof around his shoulder, confident that he wouldn’t snap at me. He glanced at me through the corner of his eye, then reciprocated the side-hug. “So why don’t you want to go home?” I asked after a few minutes had passed.

He pushed me away. “Don’t get the idea that we’re friends, Winger. We’re not.” And he stood up and walked away. I watched him vanish into the dark. Then I turned and looked back at the wall and shuddered myself at the thought of the rest of Equestria.

*************

Symptom was the first to react to the attack. She grabbed her shotgun and flung it at Fang (or was it Claw?). In her effort to dodge the flying weapon, Fang dropped her energy cannon. I felt my reflexes start to kick in before I could think about it and I was in SATS aiming my pistol at Claw (or was it Fang?). I let loose two bullets before diving down to let Blueprints fire with his saddle. Claw threw up a magical shield to deflect both of our shots.

Fang pulled herself back up and floated her massive energy cannon back up. She fired a shot at Monarch who quickly jumped out of the way. A pink explosion where he stood melted away the snow. I shot up into the air, putting my pistol away. Symptom flung herself onto Fang, biting down on the unicorn’s back. She let out a yelp of pain before swatting away the ghoul with her gun.

Blueprints continued a barrage onto Claw, forcing her to focus her magic on the shield rather than on firing her cannon, hanging lazily outside the shield.

I glanced from the cannon to Monarch, crouching behind a snowbank. In particular, I noticed his sword lying half out of his sheath. I glanced back to the cannon.

A plan hatched in my mind, and again, my body reacted before I could think of how badly this would probably end up. I swept down near Monarch and deftly pulled his sword out of his sheath. I flew straight for Claw’s gun and, with a bit of precision aid from SATS, neatly sliced the cannon in half. I expected the gasp of surprise coming from Claw and the yelp of horror from Blueprints.

What I did not expect was the cannon to explode.

I slammed into the ground amidst many cracks coming from my legs and slid a long path in the snow. The pain I felt in my wings and legs kept me from even opening my mouth. Silent tears streamed down my face as I glanced down to my agonized legs. None of them seemed to be jutting out at weird angles, though my wings didn’t always bend that far. The blood that eked out of them dripped into the snow underneath me to dye it a threatening red. I shut my eyes to avoid the image.

What felt like an hour to pass ended up being five minutes.

When Blueprints dug me out and Monarch floated me over to where Fang’s shot had melted through the snow, I could finally open my eyes. “You are the stupidest pony to ever grace the presence of Equestria,” I heard Symptom say from a few feet away. Blueprints got to work bandaging up my wings while Monarch set a splint for my leg. “Seriously, there is not a single pony I can think of that would slice open any kind of energy weapon with a sword.”

“Give the pony a break, Symptom,” Monarch said. “At least those two are gone. Ace, who were they? They seemed to know you and Blueprints.”

I managed to squeeze out a few words. “We’ve met. Long story.” I was impressed I was able to get four words out through the pain in my legs, though my wings were already starting to feel good as new.

“They slaughtered all those boars, Monarch,” Blueprints said solemnly. “For fun probably. I don’t want to run into them again.”

“Oh please,” Symptom barked, “I can’t wait to get my hooves around that one’s neck again. I don’t think I’ve ever had a chance to kill a unicorn like that before.”

“Hush, Symptom,” said Monarch. “There. Try to stand up, Ace.” I complied, awkwardly using my back right leg in conjunction with my front left to avoid putting pressure on the other two. “Put some weight in your legs. They’re not broken, just sprained.”

“Why... splint?” I coughed out before settling my weight into the other two legs. A surge of pain shot through both, then subsided. I took a few tentative steps.

“Stability,” Blueprints answered. “Your wings didn’t look too bad, just a few cuts. You’ll be in the air again in a few hours.”

I took a few more steps and felt the pain start to ease away. “Good,” I said shortly. It still hurt to talk. I wobbled a few more steps and proceeded to almost fall over. Luckily Blueprints was there to catch me. “Thanks.”

Blueprints sighed. “Well, obviously we’re not going to make any progress when you’re like this, Ace.”

Symptom rolled her eyes. “Sure, let’s just stay here, in the middle of a mass genocide. If any ponies trying to collect on the bounty find us, we can tell them we killed all of these boars. Maybe it will scare them away.”

I wanted to say something, make a snappy comeback, but Monarch beat me to it. “Symptom. Shut. The fuck. Up.” Okay, he kinda beat me to it. He floated the sword back into his sheath and trudged north. “We’ll keep moving. We have plenty of daylight left.”

“If you can call it that,” Symptom muttered under her breath, though I was certain Monarch couldn’t hear it.

We started walking again, deciding to go around the former battleground rather than through. The place reeked of death and murder. There were some boars piled up in small groups, while others were off on their own. I noticed, with a sick feeling, that the groups piled up tended to have smaller boars than the ones on their own; obviously children. The snow, which had previously melted on contact with the bodies, started to cover up the sickly red creatures. I turned my head to avoid looking at it.

The four of us moved at a snail’s pace, and after what seemed like an hour, we crossed another snowbank that hid the boars from view. What the snowbank was hiding from us, however, piqued my interest. On the horizon, in a bright orange that contrasted with the falling snow, was a building. Without talking, the four of us immediately turned and moved to it.

As we moved closer, the building loomed above us threateningly. It dared us to go in. At least that was the vibe I was getting.

“And... let’s keep going,” said Monarch, making a sharp turn back to the north.

“You don’t want to go in?” Blueprints asked. “It’s an old Ironshod factory! There’s no way it could be dangerous, the ponies of the wartime North didn’t let any weapons up here.”

“But look at it!” Monarch gestured frantically. “That thing could kill all of us and nopony would find us for years! Decades!”

“Aww... is the big bad king of the North afraid of the bigger badder factory?” Symptom taunted. I get the feeling I’ve heard that before. Racking my brains, I remembered the night I met Panther by the wall. And I felt a surge of fear about the open world.

“We’re going in.” I said shortly. I nudged open the door and stepped inside. Blueprints and Symptom followed right behind. Monarch hesitated, then came in grumbling. I shut the door behind him.

The inside was dark. Like, can’t-see-your-hoof-if-you-wave--in-front-of-your-face dark. Undaunted, I turned on my Pipbuck’s flashlight and scanned the room. The ceiling was at a normal height, though a bit uncared for, as seen by the many holes. The walls were a steely gray, dulled by dust. The rug on the ground was in tatters, though oddly enough, still a vivid red as opposed to the dusty rest of the room. Looking forward, I saw something that made my heart start beating rapidly.

There was a dark yellow filly standing at the top of the stairs.

She looked just as dirty as the rest of the building, her fur matted down and dusty. Her mane seemed to made of dust, though the tip of her tail was bright yellow. I took a step closer to her and she took a step back. Okay, she was scared. I guess we weren’t the first ponies to come in here. “It’s okay,” I said. “We won’t hurt you.”

“Unless you attack us,” Symptom called out. I turned and glared at her. “What? It’s true!”

I took a few more steps toward the filly. “What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Ace, don’t get too close!” Blueprints warned. At that outburst, the filly turned and ran away.

I sighed and walked back to the group. “Good going, Blueprints,” Monarch said. “She could have given us a tour. Now that we don’t have a guide, it’s probably pointless to delve any further, so let’s just leave and-”

“Shut it, Monarch,” Symptom snapped. “I think that little filly is hiding something. We need to find her.” Wait, Symptom was voting on not killing somepony?

“I agree with Symptom,” said Blueprints, “but I don’t think we need to find her. I’m getting a vibe I don’t like from her. She’s going to try to find us.” All three of them looked at me. “What do you think?”

I looked from Monarch’s terrified face to Symptom’s determined one, to Blueprints’ slightly worried one. Then I nodded. “I agree, she’s got something to hide. But actively searching for her probably isn’t the best action. We need to show her that we mean no harm. I think we should split up. We’ll be less threatening.”

The three of them glanced at each other then back at me. “Is splitting up really a good idea?” Monarch asked. “If one of us gets into trouble, the others won’t be able to help.”

“I’ll go with you, you big baby,” said Symptom. Monarch hesitated, then slowly nodded in agreement.

“So let’s go then,” said Blueprints. “No need to keep her waiting.” He trotted into a nearby hallway, pulling out a flashlight as he left. Symptom and Monarch turned and went down the opposite hallway. Once I was sure they were gone, I shut the door leading out. No need to let the infinite outside in, right?

I shone my flashlight up the empty entryway and took a few more steps in. Hanging off the walls were ripped safety posters, the messages long since decayed away. At the end of the corridor, on short set of stairs, the tattered red rug lost its vividness on the stairs, though when I reached the top, it was clean again. This piqued my interest. Why was it dusty on the stairs? There must be something still alive here that keeps this rug so clear.

I flipped a bottlecap to decide which direction to go. Brand side up, so I turned left. Like the ground floor, the walls here were covered in a thick layer of dust. I brushed a hoof along a wall. The dust accrued on my hoof, which I promptly wiped on my armour. Underneath the dust seemed to be a picture. I wiped clear the rest of the frame and saw that it was actually a mirror.

Ho...ly... fuck. I really looked that different? How many days had it been since I left Cormount? Four? Five? Six? I’d honestly already lost count. Back in Cormount, I’d always been a neatfreak. My mane had to be set just right so I could keep it nice despite flying high speed around the city.

Now? Now my mane was a greasy mess, almost slicked back. The bandages around my wings didn’t add to my comfort. They were soaked in a deep red. The splints around my legs made me look absolutely pitiful.

If I saw my reflection in Cormount, it showed a determined pegasus, ready to take on the world. Now it showed a broken pegasus, with tears already welling in its eyes. I blinked them away. Now was not the time.

I had a filly to find.

I turned away from my reflection and moved down the hallway. As I reached the end, the dust on the walls faded. On each side, red circles with a line through them encircled outlines of ponies misusing guns. I noted each one with a bit of comical interest. One showed a unicorn floating the gun behind its head. Another depicted an earth pony holding a pistol with the barrel in its mouth. I found them pretty funny all in all, until I found one that made me stop in my tracks.

I looked closer at this particular picture, featuring a unicorn. He had a sniper rifle, floated right next to his head with the sight in front of one of his eyes. Hanging lazily off the unicorn’s side was a sword. Etched faintly into his flank was a crown.

I felt my mane start to stand up. Right next to it was a picture of an earth pony in midair, a shotgun in its mouth. Underneath her, an earth pony lay collapsed, with a battle saddle aimed haphazardly forward. I tore my eyes away from it to look at the last picture in the hall.

A pegasus, wings clearly mangled, the front right leg colored golden. In his mouth was a bright blue pistol. I looked down at my Pipbuck, surprised that Dusty wasn’t buzzing with activity at this. I guess she was out exploring some other tech stuff. I sighed and turned off to a side hallway.

And came face to face with the dusty filly.

I yelped and jumped backwards, landing in an awkward heap. I heard a giggling while I pulled myself up. One of the bandages had fallen off a wing, so I took the opportunity to stretch it out. “Don’t do that!” I scolded.

“Keep your voice down,” she whispered. “Or else they’ll find you.”

“Who’ll find me?” I whispered back.

“The Janitors. At least that’s what I call them,” she answered.

“What’s with the drawings?” I asked, gesturing towards the one of me.

She shook her head. “It’s too risky here. Follow me.”

She darted down the hall and turned a corner. I hesitated before following. What if this was a trap? But I needed answers. I turned the corner after her and watched her disappear down another hallway. Damn, she was fast! I chased after her, after each turn seeing her disappear up some stairs or around a corner. I finally caught up to her when she stopped in front of a door. “They locked it,” she whispered furiously. “My one refuge, too.”

“Let me help,” I offered, pulling a few lockpicks from my bag. It wasn’t too difficult a lock, but still harder than any I’d dealt with in Cormount. Two broken lockpicks and the door swung open. The filly dashed in without a word of thanks and I followed.

We were in an office of some kind. In each of the back two corners were filing cabinets, and taking up the majority of the room was a large desk. Clearly the Janitors, or whatever they were, had been here recently, since the ground was clear of all dirt and grime. The walls still had a thin layer of dust though. The filly shut the door behind me and bounced on top of the lone desk, sending papers flying everywhere. “What was that for?” I whispered.

“You don’t have to whisper anymore,” she said, jumping onto a nearby filing cabinet and opening the top drawer. She pulled out another set of papers and tossed them on the floor. “They can’t hear us in here.”

I watched her close that cabinet and open up another, only to repeat the process of throwing out all the papers. “Okay, who the hell are you, what’s up with those freaky drawings, what are the Janitors, and why are you just tossing paper everywhere?” I demanded.

The filly jumped back on the desk and looked at me. “Name’s Grime. I’ve lived here for all my life, and I’m always happy to get visitors.The drawings are just some old warning posters. I think the place had to cut its funding a bit.” She shifted nervously. “Are they really that bad?”

I still wasn’t sure if I could trust her, but I guessed that she wasn’t hostile. My EFS said she wasn’t anyway. “Well, on the contrary, they’re really good. Kinda why I freaked out a bit.” Grime’s face lit up, and the dirt on her face seemed to melt away. “But who are the Janitors? I’m a bit worried about my friends...” I trailed off.

Grime jumped onto another filing cabinet and opened a drawer. “The Janitors are mechanical janitor ponies that keep this place clean. The years since they’ve been made haven’t been kind though, and their detection system’s a bit wonky.”

“So why are they a danger?” I asked.

“Like I said, detection’s a bit wonky,” Grime explained, pulling the dirt out of a nearby dead potted plant and throwing it on the ground. “They used to be able to detect any kind of dirt, dust, grime, you name it, and clean it up. But now they can only detect it when it’s moving, and recently, they’ve taken to finding it through noise. Noisy ponies that come in here tracking what they call filth all over the building.” She finished with the dirt in the pot and jumped back on the desk. “You know,” she said, “you may be able to help me with something.”

“Can it wait?” I asked. Grime gave me an inquisitive look. “My friends are still out there, somewhere. We need to find them.”

Grime nodded and pointed to a terminal in the corner of the room. “I’ve been trying to get into that terminal for as long as I can remember. I haven’t made much headway, but I’ve got it hooked up to the security cameras. We can easily find them.” She jumped to the terminal and typed in a password. I walked over and watched her flip from camera to camera. Eventually, it came across Symptom and Monarch in what looked like some kind of dining room.

“Why is there a dining room in a factory?” I wondered out loud.

Grime giggled. “Factory? Who told you this was a factory? I mean it was, at one point, a factory but it was converted to an orphanage years before the war ended.”

I looked at her, startled. “Who would convert an old weapons factory to an orphanage?”

She giggled again. “It’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it? That’s part of the reason why I’ve been trying to get into this terminal for so long. It’s probably a great story, one that I’m determined to learn about.”

We continued to flip through the cameras to find Blueprints. Grime just kept flipping lazily, until we caught one that had a shadow on it. Grime frowned. “That’s too bulky to be your friend. I think that’s a Janitor right there. Best to avoid him.” She continued flipping. A few minutes later, we came across Blueprints digging around what looked like a bedroom for foals, filled with cribs. “Great! He’s pretty close to where the other two are,” Grime said. She shut down the terminal and trotted to the door. “Remember, quiet in the hallways.”

We walked out and I followed her down a nearby flight of stairs. We snuck around a corner, but Grime stopped me before we went around the next one. She crouched down and gestured for me to do the same.

A few minutes passed.

“Grime,” I whispered, “what are we-”

“Shhh,” she shushed me, and pointed at a shadow that was creeping down the hallway. Slowly, a bulky pony-like machine came into view, moving deliberately down the hallway. Grime leaned in close to my ear. “Stay. Completely. Still,” she breathed. The Janitor seemed to glide across the carpet, which looked more like a dusty blue in contrast to the entryway rug.

The Janitor turned its head and looked straight at us. I struggled to not quiver in fear, and I felt Grime’s heart start beating furiously. It stopped and Grime and I both glanced at each other.

It stared at us.

We stared back. Or at least until my eyes turned to the rug behind it.

It was a blood-red.

Its body slowly turned to face us and crouched in a pouncing position.

I couldn’t help myself. I started shaking in fear.

The Janitor’s mouth shot open.

“DIRT DETECTED! DIRT DETECTED!” the sound from its mouth almost felt like a wall of air. The top of its head flashed red and the Janitor turned to face us.

“Run!” Grime yelled, and we both sprinted in the way we just came. Despite my groaning legs, I managed to stay right with Grime this time, the motivation of having a killer robot on our hooves pumping me full of adrenaline. As we rounded a corner, the bandage flew off my other wing and my body took over. I grabbed Grime and soared off.

Surprisingly unfazed, she yelled out directions to me. “Left! Down the stairs! Right! Left! Left again! Right! Down stairs! And right once more!” After the last turn, we slammed right into Blueprints.

“Ow!” Blueprints yelped. We crashed into one of the cribs and my legs started yelling at me. “Well, obviously, you found her-” he started.

“Shh!” Grime shushed him. Blueprints looked at her, and she shook her head.

Symptom and Monarch dashed in the room. “What was the commotion?” Monarch asked.

“Shh!” Grime shushed again.

Symptom glared at her. “Why should I?”

“Because killer janitor robot,” I whispered furiously. “Now shut it.”

Grime darted to the door and slowly closed it. She put her eye against the keyhole and held up a hoof. For a few minutes, the five of us sat in a very uncomfortable silence. Eventually, Grime stood back up. “We’re clear. Now,” she said, turning towards us, “I never got any of your names.”

“And we don’t have yours either,” Blueprints piped up angrily. “Who put you in charge?”

“Your pegasus friend did,” Grime said sharply. “And my name is Grime. Now who are you?”

“I’m Ace,” I answered for the group. “The ghoul is Symptom, the unicorn is Monarch, and the blue hooved one is Blueprints.” Grime nodded. “You three,” I said, turning my back to her, “keep quiet in the halls. There are killer janitor robots called Janitors. They’ve killed everypony that’s come here except for Grime.”

“And how long have you been here amongst the heartless killing machines?” Blueprints asked accusingly.

“I’ve lived here all my life,” Grime replied with a frown. “Never been outside the building.”

“If you’re going to lie, at least make sure there isn’t a gaping hole in it,” said Monarch.

Grime scratched her head. “Hole? What hole?”

“What do you do for food?” asked Blueprints. “How have you lived this long without anypony else here, especially as a foal?”

“I... find food in places around the building,” Grime replied slowly. “When ponies come in to explore, I avoid them if they seem bad and help them if they seem nice. My mom taught me how to live here.”

“And where’s your mom now?” Monarch asked.

“Dead.” Grime answered shortly. “Died a few months ago. I was being careless around one of the Janitors and she rescued me. Except she didn’t escape.”

My head was starting to spin. She’d had her own mother die only recently? I glanced over at Blueprints and noticed his expression had softened a bit. “So the reason the rugs are red is-”

“The Janitors use the blood as cleaning water,” Grime finished. “Like I said, they’ve been corrupted.”

Symptom started laughing. “You mean that those things are cleaning the factory with your mother’s dead body?” she said.

“Symptom!” Monarch snapped.

“Well...” Grime hesitated again. “I didn’t say I didn’t get her body back...”

**********

Grime took us through a few more twisting hallways until we ended up in the kitchen. Well, a makeshift one. It was a transformed break room with a bunch of appliances crammed into areas along the wall. Grime ignored all of it and went straight to what looked like a barricaded closet. “In here, the orphanage kept a freezing amulet. Used it as a freezer. They barricaded the door to keep the cold in.”

She grabbed a nearby rope and tied it to the handle of the door. Then she started pulling a crank that slowly pulled the door open. We were bet with a blast of cold air and fog. After a few seconds, the fog cleared and we went inside.

My first irrational thought was holy shit, this was a big closet. Then I noticed that some ponies had knocked down the nearby walls to expand the room. I saw some oddly shaped frozen figures in the back of the room. Before I opened my mouth to ask what they were, Grime trotted over to them. As we approached them, it dawned on me what they were.

Butchered dead ponies.

They were all pale, and the ones that had faces on them wore expressions of shock and agony. All of them were missing various chunks of their bodies, some even lacking a head. Around the hooves, or where the hooves would have been, were frozen puddles of dark red liquid.

One pony in particular caught my eye, as she was placed on a box above the rest of the statues. Her face was the only one that didn’t look horrified, instead wearing a painful smile, frozen in her last moment of looking at her filly. Most of her left half was torn apart and her organs threatened to fall out of her body. A quick glance over at Grime told me that this was indeed her mother. Monarch and Symptom were also both examining the body, yet Blueprints was looking at somepony else.

“Grime... why do all these ponies look like they were frozen at the second of their death rather than later on?” Monarch asked.

“The Janitors spray them with some kind of paralysis fluid to keep them still while they, for lack of a better word, digest them,” Grime answered.

“So how do you get them if they’re in the middle of being digested?” Symptom asked curiously.

“It’s just a matter of distracting them,” Grime explained. “They’re not real ponies, so they forget about the ponies if I lure them far enough away. I just come back and grab them later. I don’t rescue the ponies unless they deserve rescuing, though.”

“Hey, Blueprints, who’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the stallion he was entranced with. He ignored me, so I stepped closer for a better look. The pony was a steely grey, with one of his legs significantly smaller than the other three. Chunks of his back and rear legs had been ripped out. On the remains of his flank, I could make out bits of a bag for his cutie mark, but the rest had been cut off. His mane was a deep blue, roughly the same color as Blueprints’ hooves. “Is... that your dad?” I asked cautiously.

He gave a short jerky nod and turned away roughly. “Only by blood,” he said tersely.

Grime trotted over. “Oh, I remember him! Well, kinda. I was really little. Mom said he was the nicest pony she’d ever met. I don’t remember him dying, though. I guess it was before I had to take responsibility of saving the bodies.”

“Well, you didn’t have to save this one,” Blueprints snapped. He turned and bucked the stallion, chipping off a bit of his mane. I took a few steps back, deciding that I didn’t want to stand too close to the pony that just beat a dead horse.

“What’s so bad about him?” I asked curiously.

“He’s a jackass,” Blueprints responded. “One of the, if not the most, successful merchants in Mesa City, and he takes all of his money and burns it, just to leave my pregnant mother in Mesa City. I swore if I ever found him I’d snap his neck myself.”

Symptom tried to jump on an opportunity to attack a relative of Blueprints, but Monarch held her back. “Why is his leg cut so cleanly?” he asked curiously. “All the other ponies look like theirs are ripped off, but his is smooth.”

Grime shifted. “I guess that particular Janitor got a clean cut?” Monarch narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent. “Maybe his skin was particularly easy to cut through.”

I walked back over to where Grime’s mother stood. She looked a lot like Grime, just bigger and with a lighter color. Even their tails had the same yellow tips. I then noticed something odd in her tail. After a quick glance back to Grime, I chipped off a bit of the tail to see what it was.

It was a memory orb.

Another quick glance around and I snatched it and stuffed it in my bag. I turned back to the group, preparing to suggest a movement back to the main office. Monarch was still watching Grime intently, making the filly start shifting even more. She started to look a little guilty too...

“You’re lying to me about something,” Monarch said. “There’s something about your story that just doesn’t click with me, I just don’t know what.”

“Does this help?” Symptom called from the other side of the freezer. She trotted over, dragging a skeleton with her. “Just a skeleton? You said the Janitors grind up everything.”

Grime glanced back at the freezer door. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” she said slowly. “I’m getting cold.”

Blueprints examined the skeleton that Symptom brought over. “It’s completely clean. No signs of decay or rotting. Unless you’re lying about the Janitors eating the skeletons too, your story doesn’t add up.”

Symptom pulled out her shotgun and pointed it at Grime’s face. “Tell us the truth, or I swear, I will set you up right next to your mother, sans head.”

Grime looked scared. She looked from Monarch’s quiet accusing look to Blueprints’ curious stare, to Symptom’s angry glare.

She started crying.

Symptom immediately lowered her gun. I rushed in and started trying to calm her down. Not a good choice when you’ve only touched other ponies a few times in your life. “There, there,” I said, awkwardly trying to pat her back. “It’s fine, Symptom won’t shoot you, the gun doesn’t have any ammo anyway.”

Symptom glared at me and shoved her shotgun back in the holster. “That’s your fault anyway,” she grumbled.

Grime gave a few more sniffles before she could finally say something coherent. “I didn’t have a choice, okay? Neither me, nor my mom did. Your dad recognized that, Blueprints.”

I stepped back, confused. “You didn’t have a choice in what?”

“There’s no food here, we had to make do!” she bawled. “I hate that I have to do it, but I’m too scared to leave!”

Blueprints looked at the skeleton and jumped away, throwing it on the ground. “You mean you’ve been eating them?” Grime nodded, still crying her eyes out. “That’s disgusting! You’re sick! A sick fuck!” Blueprints screamed. “Ace, we need to get out. There’s nothing here for us except a fuckton of killer robots and an insane cannibal.”

“Calm down, Blueprints,” said Monarch. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes it is!” Blueprints was jumping up and down frantically. “It’s disgusting! Evil! She’s like one of those freaks in Barcepony!”

Barcepony? I remember hearing that from somewhere, but at the moment, it slipped away from me. At any rate, we’d spent way too much time in the freezer. “Let’s go back to the office,” I suggested. “Give us some cooldown.”

Grime nodded, followed quickly by Monarch, Symptom and, reluctantly, Blueprints. The way back to the office was relatively uneventful. No Janitors to be seen. Upon the return, the office still had papers and dirt everywhere. “I guess the Janitors haven’t been here in awhile?” Monarch asked. He seemed a lot more relaxed now that Grime’s story had no holes in it.

“Actually, this all happened about an hour ago,” Grime answered. She too, seemed more relaxed, though still a little jumpy around Blueprints.

“Blueprints,” I said as we walked in, “can you get into the files on the terminal there?”

“I don’t know, is it filled with recipes on how to eat other ponies?” Blueprints responded nastily.

I sighed. Obviously this had touched a nerve with him. Grime shuffled nervously before pouncing onto one of the filing cabinets. Blueprints trudged over to the terminal and started typing things in. Monarch opened up the cabinet Grime wasn’t on and started reading through the files. Symptom sat down by the door and pulled out her shotgun, a screwdriver, and some pieces of metal. I cantered over to the desk and sat back in the chair.

With the silence, I took the time to think. It felt like I spent a lot of time thinking now. Sure, I read books back in Cormount, but I acted on survival instincts most of the time. And survival for what reason? I had no idea. It always seemed like the best choice. And now survival has gotten a whole lot harder.

But I didn’t know of any ponies who wanted to die. Grime had clearly made the choice to live. And Celestia knows what Symptom may have gone through to be here alive. But Grime had a mother to teach her how to survive. Symptom? I had no clue.

The conversation I had with Monarch earlier came to mind. Do I really care about my parents? Would they have made living in Cormount any easier? Would they have protected me when Panther found a rusty pipe? Would they have instilled in me a fear of a wall?

Would they have been like Grime’s mother, putting their foal before their own life? Or would they have been like Monarch’s parents, lying through their teeth and manipulative? Or what if they were like Blueprints’ father, doing something despicable enough to make their own flesh and blood hate them?

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice that Monarch was trying to get my attention.

“Ace!” He yelled right in my here, simultaneously hitting my head with a folder.

“What happened?” I yelled in reaction jumping to my feet and sliding out my pistol.

“Whoa, calm down,” Monarch said, backing up slightly. “You dozed off a bit. I need your help.”

“With what?” I asked, sliding my pistol back in the holster.

“That bottom cabinet’s locked,” Monarch answered simply. I gave him a look of disbelief before shaking my head and pulling out a few lockpicks. The lock looked like somepony had broken into the cabinet before, then replaced the lock. It looked almost new, but underneath I could see the shattered remains of the original lock. I broke my first lockpick, but opened the cabinet on my second.

I opened it up after checking my Pipbuck for a count on my lockpicks. Inside the cabinet lay a blue pistol. There seemed to be no corners or edges on the gun, except for the trigger. I reached in and grabbed it. It felt cold, colder than it ought to have been given where it was. I laid it on the desk and Monarch and I examined it.

“I’ve never seen a pistol like this before,” Monarch murmured.

“Well, it’s not like you use guns anyway,” I answered with a grin. “Can I have it?”

“I don’t care, why not?” Monarch answered sounding bored. Symptom glanced up from the mess she had made of her shotgun, but surprisingly enough, didn’t make a comment; instead, she went back to working on her shotgun.

I picked the pistol back up and tried to find out how many bullets it had in it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the ammo cartridge on it. I aimed it at the wall near the filing cabinet and pulled the trigger.

Despite the minimal recoil, the shot was deafening. Sticking out of the wall I just shot was a foot-long icicle. Monarch held a hoof up to it, then quickly pulled it away. “Holy shit. You know when something’s really really cold, it can feel like it’ll burn you? Yeah, this is like that.”

“Okay, Ace,” Blueprints called from the corner. “I got you in. Seems like the guy running this place got into some arguments with some powerful ponies.” I pulled my old pistol out of its holster and tossed it over to Symptom, who seemed to expect it, and slid the blue one into the holster. Then I trotted over and pulled up the earliest document I could find.

Hoofsmith-

As I’m sure you’ve heard, the Ministry of Wartime Technology has been given permission by Princess Luna herself to put their factories wherever they damn well please. Our soldiers need these guns to fight the zebras and the recently colonized North is the perfect place to establish said factories. The Council of the recently established Mesa City has claimed support for the Ministry with a majority vote led by their newest member, Brush. While I cannot say I support all his policies, he has given me the honor of being in charge of this factory, and I’ll be damned if I let you take it.

Need I also remind you that, while you have control over your little village up by the mountains, that is the limit of your authority. If you want this factory gone, come down here and get rid of it yourself, but remember that we have weaponry, and we are not afraid to dissuade protesters with them.

I hope you see my point, and will not reply

-Gold Star

I flipped to another file and opened it, expecting another letter. This time, it was a journal entry.

Log # 1

Those damn Ministry Mares are making us keep logs on our progress in whatever field we happened to be condemned in. And naturally I get sent to the undeveloped Hellhole that is Mesa City. Everyday I get fucking cease and desist letters from the jackasses in Cormount (don’t they care about the survival of our species?) and the local Council refuses to help. Thank Celestia that the new member, Brush is sympathetic. Though I’m a bit wary around him. He doesn’t seem to hiding anything, but there’s something odd about him.

But I digress. For this actual log, we have had no work done. At all. And why not? Because the fucking protestors outside keep both materials and workers from coming in. If Hoofsmith doesn’t do something about this soon, I may have to shoot some bitches.

Log # 2

With the lack of progress being made in this factory, making notes on it is practically impossible. I did get a message from an unknown sender though, saying he would send me this unique gun he found. I won’t believe it until I see it, but he claims it doesn’t use bullets or the energy that the Zebras use. I’m curious.

Log # 3

It’s been a month since I’ve been put in charge and already things have gone to Hell. Applejack gave up on the factory and gave it to the Ministry of Peace for use as an orphanage. How in fuck’s sake do you turn a factory into an orphanage? However, despite the lack of support given to me by anyone (except maybe Brush) we did manage to create a type of torture device. It will slowly grind up the pony in it until somepony programs them to stop. The only downside is that it kills too quickly.

But enough about that. I want to talk about Sapphire.

Sapphire is the most wondrous gun I’ve ever seen. The trigger is easily accessible by one’s tongue and it has almost no recoil when fired. And like the letter said, it doesn’t use bullets or Zebra energy. I don’t know how, but it recharges its ammo in cold weather (of which there is plenty here in the North). Had the factory not been shut down, I would have immediately started producing these in mass quantities. However, now that I no longer have control of production (not that I ever did) I see no reason to tell the higher ups in the Ministry about it. My only remaining question is who made the gun? And how?

Log # 4

I was demoted today. I could tell that something bad was going to happen the second I received a call from Applejack about those torture machines. “We ain’t monsters. We’re decent ponies and ah want you to destroy all those monstrosities and cut production.” We already cut production the second you gave the factory to the MOP, bitch! And now you retaliate by sending me along with it. Well, if the Ministry Mares aren’t going to do their job when it comes to saving our race, I’ll have to show them the error of their ways...

Log # 5

Mother of fucking Celestia, these foals are going to drive me insane. I need to find a way to keep my sanity. My robotic creations have been successfully converted to janitors. I didn’t work that hard to have my machines get destroyed before they see the light of day. But I need to test them on something. They clean up the place really well. But how do they fare in the idea of defense? Well, there is one particular foal that is especially annoying. Maybe I can borrow her for my purposes...

Log # 6

I am so fucking happy it’s not even funny. I know it’s bad taste, but I was so clever today. It worked. The janitors can be easily switched from cleaning mode to torture/kill mode. The only downside was they took the remains of the foal and put it in their cleaning water. When asked about it, I said I modified them to carry red paint to recolor those ugly blue carpets. And when somepony asked me about the missing foal, I just told them that

The rest of the file was erased, or never finished, I couldn’t tell which. When I went to click on the next log, an error appeared on the screen, saying it was corrupted. I scrolled down and noticed all the rest were corrupted, except for one at the end.

Log # 402

last entry her i am going to die the janiters are outside the office door, bangng to get in as i type this i swear on my moters life that if i get out of here alive, i will deote my life to stoping these montrosies from seeing the cloud of day i thouht it would all be over when those boms fell, but i cant never mind i need to confess i need closur i need forgivnes im sorry appljac im sorry flttershy im sorry hoofsmit to control ther is a contol panl for them in mt bedroom behind the backbord oh celestia dont let them in i use the contol to turn the janitors back into ther toture version i use that to kill inspecors about misng orfins help me please i locked the gun in my cabinet it wont help aginst those monters the orfins the workers the visitors all dead fuck my life fuck pride fuck that little piece of grime on the wall i now one of the orfins new and wanted to kill me i didnt think shed do it oh celestia its busting thruh the door please help me please help me please help me please hel

The back of my leg started to feel warm against Sapphire. I glanced over at the door and saw faint signs of it having been destroyed in the past. I turned around and scanned the room. Symptom seemed to be trying to fuse my old pistol with her shotgun, though I didn’t understand how she intended to do that. Monarch was cleaning up the papers on the ground, probably more out of boredom than anything else. Blueprints and Grime were angrily glaring at each other.

“So from what I read, there’s a master control for the Janitors in the headmaster’s bedroom, behind the bed’s backboard,” I said, breaking the silence. Symptom grabbed all the pieces of the guns and shoved them into Monarch’s saddlebags. “Grime, any idea where that is?”

“Top floor. It’s somewhere up there. I’ve never really gone up there because of the Janitors,” she answered without removing her gaze from Blueprints. “And I have no desire to.”

“If she’s not going, I’m not going,” Monarch said with a quiver in his voice.

“You haven’t even seen one of them yet, idiot,” Symptom said. “But if it’s all the same, I’ll pass too. I don’t really have a working gun right now,” she gestured to the pieces on the ground.

I sighed. “Blueprints? Are you staying too?”

Blueprints pulled his glare away from Grime. “Anything to get away from those two,” he said, gesturing at Grime and Symptom. The latter snickered before returning to her gun. “Sure.”

We stepped outside the office and closed the other three in. Blueprints nodded at me and we trotted towards the nearest staircase. I took the lead, using the reflections off my Pipbuck to look around corners for Janitors. For the next floor we were clear. Same with the next floor. On our way up the stairs, I felt comfortable enough to ask Blueprints a question. “So why do you not like your father?”

He shook his mane out of his eyes. “Like I said before, he was really successful. Probably the highest ranking earth pony in Mesa City. Hell, he may have talked with Pride a few times. But he just up and left my mother while she was pregnant with me. No explanation. Left no money.” We peeked around a corner and he continued in a whisper. “My mom told me that she missed all the signs before he left. He never spoke to her except to initiate sex. His departure took away all the respect my mom had in the guild. Which transferred to me. So he’s responsible for making me start with less than nothing as a merchant.”

I nodded slowly. It seemed like as good a reason as any to hate one’s father. “But do you really think he deserved to die from that?” I asked. “Seems a bit petty.”

Blueprints shuddered. “Not the way he did. And I guess I wouldn’t have killed him if I had seen him. I would have tried to talk to him. Try to find out why he left. But seeing him there with no warning, and already dead, just kinda rattled me, you know?” His expression softened a bit. “I think I owe it to him to give him a proper burial at least.”

I felt like I started to see the picture. “So you’re taking out your anger on Grime?”

His expression hardened again. “No. She’s not a good pony, Ace. And I still don’t get how she was able to live this long with all these robots around. They’re probably not that hard to dismantle.” His tone started to scare me a little. “You know,” he said with a louder voice, “I think we should leave. Now. Leave Monarch, Symptom, Grime, all of them to die. Let’s just get out and head south, forget everything here.” He stopped and grinned at me. “After all,” he said loudly, “they’d do it to us if they could. Leave us to die.”

I looked at the hallway in front of us and saw a shadow looming out of one of the doorways. “Prints, keep your voice down,” I whispered.

“Why should I?” His grin vanished instantly. “I bet that little dust ball has a control in the office and those things don’t operate on sound like she said. You’re going off the word of somepony that has lived here with the creatures her entire life without getting hurt. That doesn’t seem fishy to you at all?” Down the hall, the shadow started creeping along the wall and the hints of a metallic pony crept around the corner. On its head, the light was glowing faintly.

“Blueprints! Shut up!” I yelled, pulling out Sapphire. I aimed it at the ground a few feet ahead of us.

Blueprints followed the path of my gun and shut up. He ducked down and readied the saddle at the machine. “Some armor-piercing bullets would be nice right about now,” he murmured. I shot him an accusing glare and he grinned apologetically. “Sorry, I got carried away,” he whispered.

Down the hall, the Janitor slowly turned around the corner. The light on its head started flashing, seeming to taunt us with our doom. I chanced a look behind us and saw another one crossing that corner as well, its light still dull. Blueprints let out a whimper. I leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, “You take the one in front, just keep pounding it with bullets. I’ll try to stop the one in the back.” He gave no indication of hearing, but his mouth closed tighter around his saddle trigger. Nodding, I turned around to face the Janitor behind us; its light had started to glow as well.

“Celestia is my shepherd,” Blueprints whispered.

Ignoring the weirdness of what he just said, I switched on SATS, aimed at the ground right in front of him, and fired.

“INTRUDERS DETECTED! INTRUDERS DETECTED!” Well that was different than the other one’s message. An icicle grew from where my shot landed, a few feet in front of the Janitor. It charged forwards, leaping over the icicle. Shots fired from Blueprints saddle, followed shortly after by “pings” against the other Janitor. The back one stumbled, and I noticed its back leg tipped the icicle and had stuck to it, ripping it from the robot’s body. I aimed another shot at the head, but my mouth was too shaky for me to get a lock.

Hoping that it wouldn’t get up again, I turned my back on it to see how close the front Janitor had gotten. Its light was cracked, which seemed to slow the thing down, but it still charged at us at a breakneck pace. Blueprints glanced at me in fear, giving me an I’m-out-of-ammo look. I took a deep breath and hoisted myself up on two legs, using my wings for balance.

Blueprints pulled out a knife and sprinted to the back Janitor. I held out my front hooves, claws attached, ready to meet the charging Janitor. I tried to think of any confrontation back in Cormount that might have prepared me for this, but somehow, I couldn’t think of anything that readied me for dying by hand of a mechanical torture machine turned “janitor.”

And then I realized I was going to die.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw hanging next to me another mirror, again showing the distraught pegasus that I had seen earlier. This time he was on his back hooves, front ones outstretched comically, like he was trying to hold back something. His mane was slicked back greasily, and he was still on the verge of tears.

But one main difference divided the two.

This one had a light blue pistol sticking out of his mouth. And I realized that that blue was the same color as the sky I’d read about in old books. The one blocked out by clouds that I had been too afraid to clear. I had been too afraid to leave the safe walls of my hometown. And now I was afraid I would never be able to leave again.

I wanted to see that sky.

I wanted to get out.

The pony in the mirror changed. The slicked back mane showed efficiency, not carelessness. The back hooves showed determination, not fear. The front hooves looked ready to take on the future, not hold on to the past. And the eyes narrowed. I shifted my attention back to the charging Janitor and shifted my weight to my back right hoof. I pulled my front right hoof back and felt myself thrusting it toward the light on the Janitor’s head. Somehow I knew that was where I should hit. My hoof connected with the pulsing light just as I felt the machine’s metal teeth close in on my head.

***********************

“What happened to him?”

“Janitor got to him. He’ll be fine, I just need help fixing him up.”

“He’s waking up, you know.”

“That’s a good sign, but he needs to be knocked back out. That thing nearly crushed his head, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to see what happened to his hoof.”

“Sorry, I don’t carry anesthesia around with me.”

“I could hit him with a filing cabinet!”

“Symptom, now’s not the time. What’s that ball that just rolled out of his bag?”

“It’s a memory orb! Monarch, can you activate it for him? That should keep him under long enough for me to fix him up.”

“Sure, but... uh... how?”

“I don’t know! You’re the unicorn, those things were made for you!”

“Hit him on the head with it.”

“You know, that may actually work.”

“Wait, how did you get him away from the Janitor?”

“Well, there were two, but they’re both in a burning pile of metal right now.”

“You destroyed them? Nice!”

“There’s an option on his Pipbuck here... ‘Activate Memory Orb’ Do I push it?”

“No... you’re supposed to buy it dinner first.”

ooo000OOO000ooo

I was in the freezer.

It was emptier than it was when I was in there with Grime. And I was chewing on something, though the taste was unfamiliar to me. My host was an earth pony, and from the feel of it, a mare. I swallowed and took another bite off of something that my host refused to look at. I swallowed again and took another bite, this time getting me a look at what I was eating.

A chunk of a pony’s abdomen.

I felt sick, though clearly my host didn’t. We were on the verge of taking another bite when a gun was cocked from behind us. “So this explains why they’re in chunks.”

I turned around. Aiming a pistol at my head was Blueprints’ dad. “Wait, Steel, this isn’t as bad as it looks like,” I felt come out of my mouth. “I have to to survive.”

“Why don’t you just leave then?” he said. “You don’t have to stay here. I’d leave right now if I wasn’t certain my destiny was here somewhere. This can’t be the best place to raise your kid.”

“I can’t take her anywhere else!” I explained. “She’s afraid of the outside. She’s seen the bandits, the rapists, the outlaws that take refuge in here away from the snow, she’s terrified of leaving.”

Steel lowered his gun. “She’s also scared of leaving you. If she really wanted to stay, she would have let you leave a long time ago. But she needs you, not this orphanage.”

I started crying. “So what am I supposed to do, then? If I leave and she doesn’t come, she’ll die! And if she stays, the Janitors will kill her anyway!”

Steel slid the gun in his holster and trotted over to me, patting me on the back. “There, there,” he said soothingly. I felt a serious sense of déjà vu. “The real question is this: Is she afraid of leaving? Or are you?”

The question stung me in a way I’m not entirely sure how. Maybe it just stung Grime’s mother. I still wasn’t very good with memories. Steel pulled his hoof off my back and started to trot out of the freezer. “In any case, I won’t leave. If it’s Grime you’re worried about, I’ll take care of her if you leave.”

The scene seemed to dissolve and reappear. I was in the office with what looked like a younger form of Grime. She was perched on top of the filing cabinet, playfully throwing papers everywhere. Seated on the desk was Steel, flipping through some book. I paced around, glancing nervously at the door every once in awhile.

“Relax, they can’t get to us in here,” Steel said without looking up. “They’ll be gone in a few hours and we can go explore again.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about, Steel,” I said. “It’s the others. The group that came in here earlier. They’re probably going to get themselves killed. And we couldn’t warn them.”

Steel lowered his book. “Others?” he said sharply. “Some others came in?”

I nodded. “Yeah, about half an hour ago... wait!” I yelled, but Steel had already charged out the door. I turned around. “Grime! Stay here and don’t move. Mommy’ll be right back.” Grime smiled and nodded. I dashed out and slammed the door behind me.

Steel ran around a corner, the Janitor that had been waiting outside right on his tail. I sprinted after them, darting around each corner, just following the trail of blood. After a few turns, I lost sight of them and a few turns later, I lost the trail to follow them. I listened for a sign of fighting and heard a scream come from the other end of the building.

I ran through the nearest hallway and came across somepony I’d never seen before getting chopped up by a Janitor. Behind him was Steel, frozen in fear, with another Janitor about to pounce on him. “No!” I heard my host yell. The Janitor ripped off a chunk of the back legs of Steel. My host leapt across the digesting Janitor, and kicked the one that bit Steel in the face. It stopped paying attention to Steel, now bleeding profusely out of his flank, and turned its attention to me.

I dashed down the hallways, a lifetime’s knowledge of the orphanage helping me escape. Several turns later, I was darting back into the office. Grime broke into a smile when I ran in. “Mommy! You’re back!” Her smile dimmed a bit while glancing behind her. “Where’s Steel?”

“He’ll be back soon,” I lied. “I promise. How about we play the dirt game? Whoever makes their half of the room messier wins!” Her smile returned in full and I felt some happiness well up in me. Not just in my host.

ooo000OOO000ooo

I awoke with a dull ache in my head that was dwarfed by the agony in my hoof. I could feel my eyes were open, but nothing focussed. I was lying on my front with my pained hoof elevated on a stack of papers. Judging from the smoothness of the surface I was lying on, I was still in the office, on the desk. The smell of burnt machinery wafted in from the open door, and I heard some voices coming from the hallway.

“That’s red, Symptom! Your. Blood. Is. Red.” That was Blueprints’ voice.

“So? Yours is too, but you don’t hear me blabbering about it!” Symptom had responded.

“I don’t see the issue here either, Prints,” Monarch’s voice had the air of superiority he had when I first met him. “So she got cut during the fight. Big whoop.”

“But she’s a ghoul!” Blueprints’ voice was closer. My eyes started adjusting to the light in the room. I shook my head slowly and let out a moan.

“So what if I’m a ghoul? I still have blood!”

“Ghoul blood is supposed to be black!”

Silence from outside the room. I let out another soft moan, too weak to make anything louder. A gust of air brushed me as something hit the floor in front of me. “Guys!” Grime called out. “He’s waking up!”

A sound of trotting came from the same direction of the open door. My eyes started to clear up and I could see Grime grinning at me. I tried to lift my head, but gravity decided I wasn’t going to move. Blueprints walked next to Grime and grinned too, but he had a strange look on his face right before.

“Ace! I’m really sorry about what happened, it was my fault,” he said, turning his grin a bit apologetic. “I didn’t realize how deadly those things are. But we found out how to deactivate them without going up to the top floor. That light on top of their heads has something to do with detection. Once it gets destroyed, they essentially power down.”

Monarch stepped into view with another big grin. “I’ve been getting all of them myself. Seems like I’ve got the most accurate gun from a distance.” I tried to give some acknowledgement, but only managed to eek out another groan. “Uh... we were going to wait until you were awake to give you painkillers,” Monarch explained.

“I voted not to,” Blueprints piped up. “Those things are addictive. It could completely ruin your life.”

“Just shut up and give him the drugs,” Symptom’s voice came from behind me. I felt her shotgun land right between my back legs and I winced involuntarily. “Anything to get him up again. I’m tired of this place.” Monarch shrugged and tossed a few pills in my mouth. My vision immediately cleared and the pain in my head disappeared, though I still felt throbs in my hoof. “Now that I think about it though, those may not be painkillers,” Symptom continued. “I found them in an unlabeled bottle.”

Blueprints face turned from apologetic to horrified. “So we just gave Ace some random pills that you found?” I pushed myself up from the table. Monarch nodded and trotted back out the door, his rifle floating behind him with a creepy black glow around it. Blueprints started to frown.

“Has his magic always been black?” I asked.

“As far as I know, yes,” Symptom responded. I turned around and watched her attempt to put a bandage around her cut leg. Unfortunately for her, she managed to yank on the bandage too hard and pulled one of her hooves out from under her, causing her to fall in a heap. Blueprints and I tried unsuccessfully to hold back a chuckle. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up. That thing skidded farther than I thought it would on carpet.”

“You never answered my question,” Blueprints said after we calmed down. “Why is your blood red? I thought ghouls had black blood.”

Symptom’s eyes glazed over. I blinked and glanced over at Blueprints to see if he saw it too, but his gaze was on the blood pooling by her hooves. “Where do ghouls come from anyway?” I asked. A faint robotic voice came from a nearby hallway, quickly followed by a gunshot.

“It’s hard to explain, but the fallen balefire bombs caused a bunch of different types of radiation,” Blueprints explained. “This radiation all has essentially the same effect on ponies of killing them and rotting their bodies and minds from the inside out. Some ghouls beat the odds and stay sane, while others lose their minds and attack friends and family.” As good an explanation as any, I guess.

Symptom snapped back into reality. “Let’s say I don’t follow the same rules.” She glanced over at me and frowned. “There are the Pink Cloud ghouls down in Canterlot, basic radiation ghouls in the major radiation sites like Splendid Valley, Manehatten, and in pockets around Central Equestria, and then there’s Taint. But I’m none of the above.” One look at Blueprints told me he wasn’t following this at all. Good. That meant I wasn’t the only one.

“I thought there was something odd about you,” Grime piped up from the cabinet she had leapt back on top of. I completely forgot she was in here. “You look funny.”

Symptom’s expression hardened. “Yeah, well, only on the outside. Basically my outside died, my inside didn’t. So I’m a living pony in a dead pony’s body.” She trotted out of the office with a bandage haphazardly placed on her cut. Blueprints shrugged at me and followed her out, leaving me in the room with Grime.

“Is she always that harsh?” Grime asked.

“She has the whole week I’ve known her,” I answered. “You know, I’ve got a question about you. You already told me you were afraid to leave. Did anything really cause that phobia?” The wall around Cormount appeared in my mind.

She looked at me confused. “What makes you ask that? I mean, I guess it was because my mom always told me that outside was dangerous. So I was always scared of actively going out into danger.”

“And yet you never realized that this very building is probably more dangerous than most of Equestria?” I asked. Grime remained silent. Panther’s last words to me played in my mind.

“We don’t need you around here.”

“We don’t want you around here.”

“Can’t fly away now, can you, ya fucking winger!”

I realized Grime was starting to say something. I came back to reality just in time to hear the last words. “...it’s not like I’m afraid to leave, I’ve just never felt like I wanted to.”

And then it all came together to me. “Your mother was scared to leave. Something must have happened to her involving seeing somepony leave and never return.” Grime’s eyes widened. “She didn’t want the same thing to happen to herself or her daughter, so she taught you to be afraid of the outside.” Blueprints, the first pony I’d met from the Wasteland, was nicer to me than any pony in Cormount had ever been. “Even though it’s nothing anypony can’t handle.”

Grime’s mouth opened slowly, then closed again. Then she found her voice. “No, that can’t be it. Mommy wouldn’t have lied to me. It’s safer in here than out there. She said ‘no ponies to kill, rape, torture us in here.’” Tears started welling in her eyes again. I nervously glanced out the open door, but apparently Symptom had closed it on her way out. “Don’t you dare talk about Mommy like that,” she said, with her eyes turning to a glare. “You’re not going to drag me out of here, especially not since you cleared out the Janitors. It’s really safe now.” A grin grew on her face, but I couldn’t detect any happiness in it. “I can live here forever. I will live here forever.”

I shifted uneasily. At least she wasn’t going to try and kill us though. “Well, I guess if you’re happy staying here, we can’t force you to leave,” I said slowly, backing towards the door. “So we’ll just be going now,” I reached a hoof for the door and grasped the handle, “and just leave you here,” I opened the door and started hobbling out, “okay? Bye.”

Grime grabbed Symptom’s shotgun off the desk and swung it towards me. “Leave the pistol,” she said shortly. I glanced down at the blue gun hanging in its holster. Electing not to give the crazy pony a powerful icicle launcher, I put on a big smile, slammed the door, and launched off down the hallway. Right as I cleared the doorway, the door exploded from the shotgun blast. What did Symptom do to that thing?

I rounded a corner and ran right into Blueprints. “You need to stop doing that,” he said, rubbing his temple. “Not all of us are as hard-headed as you.”

I grabbed his mane and flew off again, mentally reminding myself to answer the questions he was shouting in between the curse words that I’m fairly certain Celestia would not be happy with. I wrapped my good front hoof around his abdomen and focussed all my energy on not hitting anything. At the speed we were going, I’m fairly certain we would just splatter on an impact.

As we rounded another corner, I heard the crack of a sniper rifle shot, right before I felt something small but fast smash into my Pipbuck. The shot knocked me off course and the two of us skidded down the hallway to land at Monarch’s hooves.

His black cheeks turned a dark shade of pink as he apologized. “You can’t just zoom around corners like that, Ace. I thought you were a Janitor.”

I groaned and pulled myself up, thankful my Pipbuck was not on my bad hoof. “That was a great shot, but now you’ve hit me twice. Please don’t make this a habit.”

Monarch’s face turned back into its normal hues. “Why are you two flying around like that?” Symptom’s voice came from behind him. She trotted into view. “Also, did you happen to grab my shotgun? I think I left it in the office.”

“Yeah you did. And now Grime’s trying to shoot me with it,” I answered sharply. “We need to get out of here.”

“Why is she shooting at you?” Blueprints asked, dusting himself off.

“She wants Sapphire.”

“So give it to her,” Monarch said, looking through his scope around another corner. “We can get you another gun.”

“What makes you think she’ll be happy with that? I think she’s just completely lost it.”

“She was fine when we left,” said Blueprints. “What did you do to her?”

“I may have insinuated that her mother psychologically made her afraid of going outside.”

Blueprints stared at me. “Why would you say that? What made you think that?”

“The memory orb that I was in. Your father kind of explained it to her mother and her mother rejected it.”

I felt a surge of anger from Blueprints when I mentioned his father, but it had subsided when I finished. “That actually makes sense. I’m impressed.”

I smiled nervously. “I’m no psychiatrist, but I figured that one out,” I said, again thinking about Cormount’s wall.

“So what are we going to do?” he asked.

“We leave,” piped up Symptom. “If she’s going around with my shotgun, she’ll get herself killed. That thing could backfire at any minute.”

I was beginning to expect that kind of thing from her. Apparently Blueprints did not. “She’s a little filly! That’s practically killing her ourselves! Do you really want that on your conscience?”

Symptom snarled. “This coming from the pony who wanted to kill her when he found out she was a cannibal. Yeah! Let’s kill her!”

Monarch gave her a stern look. “Symptom, she’s done nothing to us yet. At any rate, she’s clearly not completely sane right now. We need to calm her down, at least. So we need to disarm her, and probably trap her in some way that she can’t hurt us.”

“Well, how many Janitors are left?” I asked. “She seemed to think you got all of them.”

“Hardly,” replied Symptom. “We’ve still got the top floor to worry about. They’re different than the ones down here though. No light on their heads. And they don’t leave the trail of blood.”

“Are they as dangerous?” I asked curiously.

“No, they actually shoot a magical salve that cures all wounds,” said Blueprints with an eye roll. “Yeah. They have guns, not just claws. I’m really glad we stopped where we did on our way up, because there was only one more floor before those demons.”

“Everything’s a demon with you, isn’t it?” Monarch said with a small smile. We started walking up a flight of stairs, and I heard another shotgun shot faintly. “Admittedly, if she kills herself, it will save us a lot of trouble. So what’s our plan going to be? I’m assuming we’re not just going to lure her up to the killer robots on the top floor?”

“Let’s do that. Then if they kill her, we won’t feel any guilt,” Symptom said excitedly. I forced myself to hide a chuckle.

“Look, it’s simple logic here,” Blueprints explained, apparently ignoring what Symptom just said. “The more Janitors we destroy, the less of a grip on sanity she has.” What? How the fuck did he come up with that? “So if we kill all of them, all traces of sanity will be gone on her and she’ll probably try to kill us.”

“Please tell me I’m not the only one who sees massive holes in that theory,” said Monarch. Symptom and I both nodded in agreement. Blueprints just shrugged. “In any case, let’s worry about her after we take out the rest of the Janitors.” The rest of us agreed and we traversed the next few flights of stairs in silence.

When we reached what I assumed to be the top floor, Monarch held up his hoof and his horn started to glow. “Simple detection spell,” Blueprints explained to me. I guess I was looking more confused than usual. “It’s how we make sure we don’t open a door just to see one.”

Monarch nodded and opened the door. I pulled out Sapphire and nodded back at him. He took a few steps into the hallway, followed shortly by Symptom, me, then Blueprints at the rear. “With the last few floors, we set up a barricade in a corner and made a lot of noise, to attract them,” Symptom whispered to me. “We tried that on this floor and they just opened fire on us. Luckily, Monarch threw a shield up for us and we ducked back down the stairs.”

“Lucky for you, I’m here this time,” I said, brandishing my Pipbuck. “This thing’s got Eyes-Forward-Sparkle; it detects enemies and friendlies in the area.” I quickly scanned the EFS. The three green dots near me were Monarch, Blueprints, and Symptom. Around the rest of the floor were five red bars, each of them standing still in separate parts of the floor. “Okay, there’s only five of them,” I whispered.

“Yeah. Only,” Monarch muttered. “Our problem now isn’t that there are a lot. We have no fucking clue how to kill the damn things.”

“Did you try shooting them?” I asked.

Blueprints gave me a blank look. “Sometimes I think you’re serious.” Okay, so it wasn’t funny. I wasn’t a comedian back in Cormount, alright?

“To be honest, we didn’t,” said Symptom. “We saw they were firing at us and didn’t have lights, so we ran.”

“So let’s try that,” I said, slowly creeping to a corner around which one of them was standing. I peeked my head out.

Luckily it was facing away from me. This thing was bigger than the ones that Blueprints and I took down. It reminded me of the Steel Rangers at Pipsqueak Port. Hanging off its left side was what looked like a heavy machine gun. The metal that it was made of was not quite as shiny as the other Janitors. I guessed that cleanliness wasn’t as much of a big deal with them. Right where the mane would have been on a normal pony was glowing red.

I turned back around and gestured for the other three. Then I stopped them and gestured just for Monarch. I didn’t want to risk Blueprints making too much noise by tripping. Monarch crept over. “What is it?” he whispered.

“The light’s right on the back of its head, but it’s covered by some armor plating. I don’t know how powerful your rifle is, but there’s the weak point.” Monarch nodded and aimed the rifle. I backed away to ease any pressure that may have been on him.

And then a shotgun blast burst from the staircase.

Immediately, Blueprints and Symptom were running past Monarch and me. Monarch sheathed his gun and we followed, hearing a cackle and another shot right behind us. I leapt up and over the Janitor (who had opened fire on Blueprints and Symptom) and my wings caught the air. I turned a corner and caught Monarch stabbing the light with his sword out of the corner of my eye.

Turning around another corner, I came face to face with another Janitor. No time to think, I pulled the trigger on Sapphire and watched the icicle fly through the machine’s head. The body crumpled as I shot over it. I scattered a few bits of flaming metal which started to set the carpet on fire. I cursed, but decided that there was nothing for it.

I skidded to a stop around yet another corner. From all directions, I heard various bits of gunfire, with the occasional crack of the shotgun. Seriously, what had Symptom done to that thing? I glanced down at my EFS. One green bar was on top of a red bar (I could only assume that was Symptom), one still fleeing from another, and one standing in a corner with another one standing down a hall facing it, just around the corner from me. I elected to go for that one.

I three-hoof trotted down around the corner. Monarch was holding up a shield that was being battered by bullets from a Janitor. I took aim at the thing’s head and pulled the trigger on Sapphire. Nothing came out. I cursed and shoved it back into its holster. The only other weapon I had was one hoof claw, the other having disappeared with my hoof shattering. I lamented the fact that it wasn’t on my dominant hoof, then started sneaking towards the Janitor. I made eye-contact with Monarch, his face straining from the stress of holding up the shield.

I leapt up on the Janitor’s back and shoved my claw into the back of its head. Its knee joints buckled and the machine crashed to the ground. Monarch let down the shield and cantered over to me. “See the others yet?”

I shook my head and looked back at my EFS. There was only one red bar now, which was chasing both of the other green bars. I found a spot where we could head them off and gestured Monarch to follow me.

We stopped at an intersection between hallways. “Here’s the plan; you try to magically yank the gun away from Grime while I tackle her, savvy?” I whispered. Monarch nodded. I snuck a look down the crossways and saw Blueprints and Symptom barreling down the hallway. Monarch and I took our positions. Blueprints and Symptom reached the intersection and promptly turned our direction.

Running straight into us.

“Shit, she’s going to get us now!” Symptom yelled, hopping back up. Somehow, I’d managed to stay up on my hooves while Blueprints and Monarch had landed in a provocative manner. If we weren’t about to die, I would have found it hilarious. Unfortunately, right behind them on the turn was Grime.

Who promptly ran into me.

The shotgun slid across the carpet and Grime promptly collapsed after hitting me. “Ow! Why are you doing this to me?” she screamed from the ground. I looked over at the other three, who mirrored my confusion.

“Uh... doing what?” asked Blueprints. “You came at us with a shotgun. All we were doing was dismantling the Janitors. With our guns.”

She sobbed. “Exactly! That was my only source of food! And defense against ponies from the outside! You’ve killed my life!”

Understanding dawned on Blueprints’ face. But Symptom spoke before he could do anything. “Quit being a foal. It’s a tough fucking world, get used to it and go.” She casually picked up the shotgun and tossed down the hallway. The second it hit the ground, it exploded. “One more shot and that thing would have turned you into so many pieces, the Janitors wouldn’t have been able to pick up all of them.”

Grime had stopped crying and was looking at Symptom fearfully. Monarch raised a hoof to shush Symptom, but she was on a roll. “‘Boo hoo, my mommy got killed by the things that live with us, so I’m going to whine about it over and over until everypony here gets sick of me.’ You know the closest thing I had to a mother was a pony that occasionally gave me food. Occasionally. If I cried, I would have gotten beat. Or worse. So tell me you have a tough life. Tell me how much you can’t stand us. Never mind that we just made your life that much easier to live expecting absolutely nothing in return. You make me sick.” She spit on the ground in front of Grime. “Come on,” she said to us, “let’s leave the vermin.”

My mind traced back to yesterday when Symptom said more or less the same thing to the soldier at the camp. The eye popped into my head and I struggled to keep myself from puking again. Then I thought of Grime’s eye in that same spot. I looked in her eyes and saw the same look of fear that was on the soldier’s face.

I couldn’t live through that again.

“Symptom, stop.” I said firmly. “Grime, listen, I know exactly how you feel.” Monarch scoffed disapprovingly. “To be honest, I’m terrified of the Wasteland too. More so than those three. Back in my hometown of Cormount, we had a wall, separating us from the outside. Everypony in the town was afraid of it, its largeness, its looming nature. But not me. I saw it as safety. Because I knew that everything outside was unfamiliar to me.”

I smiled what I hoped to be a warm smile. “I was the only pegasus in town. I could leave whenever I wanted. But I didn’t. Because I was familiar with Cormount. Even though everypony there hated everything about me, I stayed. Even though I was risking my life by being there, yes there were several attempts on my life there, I stayed. Because I believed that the familiar dangers of Cormount were easier than the unfamiliar dangers of the Wasteland.”

My smile faded. “Then some ponies came in and enslaved everypony in the town. Lucky for me Blueprints was there,” I knew he grew a proud grin right there, “or I’d have been taken too. But I was forced to leave. And I found out that I liked the openness of the Wasteland. Then I was shot. Stabbed. Watched somepony kill themselves in front of me. I nearly killed myself this morning with my ignorance. But knowing my past, I’d rather be out there than hiding in here.”

Symptom gave a loud yawn. “Awesome story, Ace, I really want to hear it again, but can we go? I’m starting to get really bored.” I turned to shoot her a glare, but Monarch was already doing that. Grime on the other hoof, was smiling.

For some reason, that smile looked very familiar to me, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it. I pushed it out of my mind and grinned back. “Thank you, Ace. But I’m not leaving.”

My face fell. “What?” I exclaimed. “Why would you stay here?”

She kept on smiling. “This is my life. I can’t leave my mommy. And she won’t want to leave. So I’ll stay here. I know kind ponies that come in will give me food. And they’ll try to get me to leave too. But I won’t. This is my home.”

“Okay! She’s staying here! Let’s get the fuck out!” said Symptom.

“Come on, Ace. She’ll be fine,” Blueprints said. “We can leave some food here just in case.”

Monarch nodded. “She’s in less danger than she was before. And we can’t rescue those who don’t want to be rescued.”

The three of them turned and started walking for the stairway. I turned my gaze to Grime, who was walking away, probably to the bedroom to turn off the master switch if there were any Janitors left. I sighed and hobbled after my friends. I took one more glance behind us and watched Grime disappear into a room.

My Pipbuck flashed hot for a second. I glanced at it, but no notifications had come up. I shrugged and turned my thoughts back to the wall around Cormount. Resting on top of it was a single eyeball.

Note* Level Up!

Perks added: Stalwart level 1: Ponies and objects hitting you won’t move you as far or make you stumble as much.

(Thanks to the various people helping edit, pre-read, and edit some more)

Comments

[MortuusSum]

I was gonna read this now, but then I saw the title and now I have to go listen to Iron Maiden first. Will this enhance the reading experience?

[Vinyl Scoot]

2015246
It's definitely where the inspiration came from, if that's what you were wondering.