Fallout Equestria: Ashes to Ashes

by Swordslinger

Headwires

Braeburn frowned, just what was she getting all up in arms about? All he had said was, “It could practically punch through anything!”

The instant he said that, Applejack glared at him like he had just shot Apple Boom, then asked him if he wanted ponies killed. Oblivious, he told her that he had no idea what she was getting all uppity about, but that just made things even worse. Calling him something that can’t be repeated in polite company, the last thing he ever saw of his cousin in full health was the door slamming on him. It didn’t help that the ponies behind him had started whispering bout something. Nothing good, probably planning to steal his design or “improve it” somehow.

Varmints wouldn’t understand, it was supposed to be that way in the first place.

But...how would he talk to cousin AJ now? Braeburn didn’t want her mad at him, family was the only thing they had left, especially after….after….damnit...

A breath escaped from Braeburn’s lips, his eyes slowly fluttering open. What was going on? Why did everything hurt….It was also really hard to keep his eyes open, and sleep sounded so nice….He could sleep till the end of days….

“Braeburn!”

Jolting up, Braeburn’s body groaned in protest. His hooves felt like somepony had ran them over with a barn, and his back hooves….

Huh, he couldn’t feel his back hooves. Oh well, he was probably just numb still.

Looking around in a half awake daze, Braeburn saw he was in a medical center, lying on a surgery table with a blanket over his hindquarters. Oh, that’s right, he had gotten hurt, burns or something right? Yeah, after he had shielded that zebra, from the bomb…..

Wait, what bomb? What….What happened?

Clutching his head in his hooves, Braeburn tried to think through a growing headache. It was hard to think, hard to keep awake, but something was telling him not to fall back asleep, as if doing so was dooming himself to a terrible fate. Rubbing his scalp, Braeburn sighed and ran his fingers through his mane.

Wait, fingers?

Looking at his hooves, Braeburn’s blood ran cold. Sticking out or sticking in, he wasn’t sure which, were fingers. Three, large, almost clumsy looking things sticking out of the fringes of his hooves. No, not three, four. There was a fourth one, further apart than the others, thicker. A thumb, that’s what it was called. Minotaurs and Griffins had them.

Okay, so he had fingers now, what the hay.

“What happened to me?” Braeburn asked, but alas, he didn’t get an answer from the empty room. Looking at his fingers, the farm pony tried to make sense of what the buck was going on. Worse, he was starting to hyperventilate, he needed to calm down.

Boot camp’s lessons kicking in, Braeburn breathed in and out as best he could, trying to get his airway under control. Looking once again at the….fingers adorning his hooves, he pondered what the hay they were supposed to do. Could he wiggle them somehow?

Focusing, he stared at the fingers on his left hoof, “Alright then you, wiggle!”

They didn’t move, at all. He tried again.

Still nothing.

Frowning, Braeburn curled his fingers into a fist and slammed it against the table in frustration, creating a sizable dent against the cold metal.

“.....Wait….what?”

Looking at his closed...hoof, Braeburn watched in awe as the metal fingers slowly uncurled from the fist and extended outward. “Huh.” Trying once again, Braeburn grinned as the fingers worked to his will. Soon enough, he was making them dance.

“Hehe, alright, this ain’t so bad.” He chuckled, okay, so he had fingers now, that wasn’t so bad. It was a change, sure, but he could live with it. Wasn’t like his legs had gotten removed or something stupid like that.

Looking down at the blanket on him, Braeburn frowned, it was starting to come back to him now. There was a bomb...or something, and he had gotten injured protecting Zidatti, that was it. He recalled being moved into the medical center in something called a “Stable.”

Wait.

Bombs.

A whirlwind of thoughts chased through his brain, was Little Strongheart alright? Cousin AJ? Little Apple Bloom? What about his squad? Were they okay?

Oh, Celestia, please let them be okay.

He needed to move, figure out what happened, that much was clear. Braeburn gripped, heh, “gripped” the blanket and threw it off him.

Of course, he got another nasty surprise that day.

“W-what happened to my legs?!”

Starting at them, Braeburn felt sick. His back hooves had been replaced with….metal. Not all of them were, which was a relief, but it didn’t change the fact the bottom quarter of his legs were bucking metal and glowing green.

Fingers were one thing, but this was something else.

Screaming incoherently, Braeburn fell off the metal table in a panicked rush to get away. Scuttling towards the wall, Braeburn held himself, starting at the metal hooves like they were about to eat him. Eyes wide with pure terror, he screamed wordlessly.

“Oh? Is the patient up?”

There was a door, there was a bucking door and he hadn’t even noticed it. Sliding down with a metal ‘clank’

In floated in a Mister handy, a rusty bone saw on one of its arms and its single eye starting at Braeburn like he was a criminal.

“W-what….what….” Braeburn stammered.

“Hm, not good. Subject Minotaur appears to be delirious, may need to prescribe some additional treatment to counteract post skeletal refinement.“ The Mister Handy said in an obnoxiously cheerful tone.

“Ah’m fine!” Braeburn yelled, throwing his hooves….hands(?) out in front of him to shield himself, “Just...give me a second or two before’en you go chopping my limbs off.”

“I beg your pardon sir, but I already have.” The Handy scoffed.

“....What?”

“I was the one who performed your surgery and installed your new implants. A wondrous job, if I do say so myself.” The robot said proudly.

Braeburn’s mouth dropped, “Ya...did what to me?”

“Hm, would you like me to go over the full coverage of your surgery?” The Mister Handy asked, “I understand if you need some time to adjust to your new body.”

“Uh….That would be swell.” Braeburn gulped, “But, could ya keep it simple? Ah’m not really all that...uh, great at them doctor stuff.”

“Very well.” The robot chirped, “To begin with your hooves, they were badly damaged and had to be removed. Twice, in fact, if you count each leg.”

“Oh….” Here’s comes the throw up…

“But, thankfully, you were fitted with an all new design! Its official name is quite tedious, so let’s just call them “Minotaur's hooves.” You should have an increase in traction, as they are quite heavy, but they can give any zebra a right good buck now.” Mister Handy suggested helpfully. Looking at them, Braeburn swallowed. The...implants, if he was calling them that, didn’t resemble a hoof at all. It was a large cylinder, with pistons running up and down them. There three flaps, one on each side, presumably to help with balance.

“Uh….”

“Oh, and that green glow you’re seeing? Not to worry, that would be your earth pony magic at work. See, it’s wonderful, really. Your internal magic system, which would normally be reserved for farm work and what not, is now being used to power your implants.”

“Ah can’t feel ‘em…” Braeburn muttered, causing the Mister Handy to “roll” it’s eye.

“Of course not sir, they are metal.” If a robot could say something sarcastically, the Mister Handy just did it, “But on a more positive note, you should be able to move those flaps now. Give it a try.”

Looking at his….hooves, Braeburn willed the Celestia-send-it-to-the-moon things to move. Sure enough, they moved up and down.

“How….”

“Moving on, your hip and spine.”

What?

“Hm, sadly, those burns you had suffered injured you greatly, and in order to save your life, they had to perform spinal and hip surgery. You should feel something pressing against the back of your head, don’t you?” The Mister Handy asked.

Checking his back, Braeburn’s breath caught in his throat. There was a metal bar running along the back of his head and further down his spine, he had no idea how long it went. But he hoped it wasn’t that far. Checking his head again, he felt something prick at his hoof, something sharp. Rubbing the top of his head and brushing his mane aside, he felt two metal poles sticking out of his head that were running horizontally across his skull.

“Ah, good to see you’ve found your horns.” The Mister Handy said cheerfully.

“What…”

“Well, you are Subject Minotaur, it wouldn’t be complete without horns after all. Though, before you ask, yes, I understand that the horns should go on the side of your head rather than the top, and that they should be sticking upwards. But sadly, your skull would’ve been unable to support them properly, so I had to make do.”

“Subject Minotaur?” Braeburn repeated, “What in tarnation is that?”

“Oh, I’m glad you asked sir!” It chirped, “Subject Minotaur, along with Subject Dragon, Hydra, Chimera, and Breezies. The basic summary of the project is to give a pony, or zebra, whichever really, the traits of a different species. For instance, one Misty Gale was given the traits of a dragon. Wings, scales, claws. Couldn’t do anything about the fire breathing though hm. The Overseer was quite miffed about that.”

Braeburn stared in horror at the Mister Handy, they did what to Gale? They...gave her scales, claws, and wings? The buck was going on in this place? A torture dungeon or something? Something in Braeburn’s mind clicked, “....Wait a sec, ya said Misty Gale, ya mean my squad mate, right?”

“I am afraid I do not know sir. I am unfamiliar with pony relations.” The robot admitted.

“What in sweet Celestia’s name is this place…” Braeburn muttered.

“It is a Stable. Stable 100, if I recall.” Handy said, “It was supposed to be a joint project with Stable 98, but alas, something prevented us from establishing contact with them over in the Tall Tale region. A poor radio, perhaps? Food for thought at least.”

“Right….Ah reckon to get outta here.” Fingers, feet, horns, none of that mattered now...he had to get out of this madhouse, he could have a proper freak out later.

“Ah, excellent idea sir.” Handy said sir, “Some fresh, radioactive air will do wonders for your lungs. Shall I lead the way?”

“Thank you kindly….Say, what’s your name anyway?” Braeburn asked, trying to get up and on all fours but failing. When he tried to stand up, everything just felt off, like his bones just wouldn’t work with him, at first, Braeburn had chalked up it as him getting used to his new...limbs, but, it still felt off. His back hooves felt too heavy, and his fore hooves fingers were making it difficult to walk properly.

Eventually, he got it right, with his rump sticking into the air more than it should.

“Ah, I am called ZE-3, but you may simply call me Zekes.”

“Zekes?” Braeburn repeated, managing to make some progress out of the room, “Seems like an awfully inappropriate name for someone as….dignified as you.”

“Well, yes, the Overseer has a sense of humor, it seems.” Zekes” said, floating by the awkwardly trotting pony. They were now in the hallway outside of the medical center, and Braeburn didn’t like the way everything was all torn down. Panels off the walls were chipped and falling apart, the floor was dirty with grime. As they walked, Zeke’s single eye looked to Braeburn, as if it was measuring him for something, “By the by, why are you trying to walk like that? Minotaurs are bipedal.” Zekes said as if he was pointing out the obvious.

“....Come again?” Braeburn repeated.

“Oh, silly me, I forgot the most important part of your surgery.” Zekes said, admonishing himself for forgetting that one simple fact, “You sir, are now bipedal, just like a Minotaur.”

Braeburn stopped in his tracks, looking at his fingers, “Uh...What?”

“You are now capable of walking on two legs. Go on, give it a try.” Zeke’s prompted. Befuddled, Braeburn did as he was told and pushed himself upwards. Almost falling flat on his back but righting himself, Braeburn looked down at himself. His underside was now facing out, his stomach, rib cage, all of it. It should have been lower; he should not have been walking like this.

He was a freak, an abomination.

Tears started to form, he had no shame in crying, besides, in these circumstances, who could blame him?

“Are you alright sir?” Zekes asked, “I can understand if you need another moment.”

“Ah shouldn’t be walkin’ like this.” Braeburn whimpered, rubbing his eyes with his...arm, “Ah’m...Ah’m…”

“A pony, yes.” Zekes rolled its eye, “If you are worried about the changes, well, I can assure you, it is not as bad as you think it is. You are still alive are you not?”

Braeburn nodded, “But…”

“No “buts” sir, you are functioning, that alone provides you with enough reason to move forward does it not?” Zekes asked.

“....Ah….Ah…” The robot was right, Braeburn was changed, probably for the rest of his life. Nothing could change that, but he was alive.

Alive, and breathing.

That alone was enough.

Wiping his tears away, Braeburn nodded in thanks, “You’re right, thanks there Zekes, you’re alright for a robot.”

“No worries sir.” Zekes said, “Come on then, let’s continue shall we?”

Nodding, Braeburn took one step forward.

And promptly fell on his face.

“Ah, still working on balance then, I see.”

“Rotting totting robots…”

---

Walking, if you were to call stumbling and falling with every three steps as walking, Braeburn made his way to the cafeteria. So far, the only living thing in the entire building had been him and Zekes, worst yet, Braeburn couldn’t help but note this place was smaller than it should have been. They had passed by living accommodations, but so far, the only things Braeburn found were bodies.

When Braeburn passed by the first skeleton, he had asked Zekes, “What the buck is going on here?”

To which, he got the answer, “They died, of old age presumably. I was switched on no more than ten hours ago.”

It wasn’t good news, but it was news.

He had managed to find a knapsack in a locker, which he hung around his body. It was old, made of patchwork and was about to fall apart, but it worked, for the most part. He had found a message to somepony inside, but it was so worn and faded that he couldn’t make it out. The temptation to merely throw it away was strong but...For some reason, Braeburn couldn’t find it in him to toss it aside.

Strolling across the Cafeteria, Braeburn scouted out the kitchen for anything of value. So far, he found some Cram and Sparkle Cola. He had stored them both in his knapsack, but there was room for a little more. Scouting around a cabinet, Braeburn threw aside some bottle caps that were of no use to him. One thing Braeburn had to admit, fingers made grabbing things a lot easier, especially if they were in hard to reach places. Now if only he could feel things with them, it was like wearing a glove over his hoof.

His legs, or feet, however, were a different matter altogether. Walking with them was hard, his limbs felt heavy and sluggish, and made a loud ‘clink’ with each step. It certainly didn’t help that he fell with every third step, making him feel sloppy and uncoordinated. Zekes had said it would take a few days for him to get used to his cybernetics, which was no comfort.

As he searched for supplies, Braeburn’s search was stopped when he heard something “scurrying.”

Looking up from the cabinet, Braeburn was greeted with the sight of two unholy...roaches? “This just gets weirder and weirder.” He mumbled.

“Ah, Radroaches sir, if you care to be rid of them we can be on our way.” Zekes suggested.

“Why? If’n you don’t mind me asking.” Braeburn questioned.

“Because they are dangerous sir.” Zekes answered, a quiver to his voice, “Please hurry, I am not overly fond of them.”

Looking at the “Radroaches,” Braeburn shrugged. Using the various tables and shelves as support, Braeburn made his way over to the closet Radroach and lifted his leg. It made some kind of screeching sound at him, but was soon crushed under Braeburn’s foot with a sickening crunch. Moving over to the next one, Braeburn repeated the process with the same result. Looking at his foot, Braeburn cringed when he saw the underside of the metal. Icky, gross, glowing goo that was making his fur twitch.

“Ah, do be careful. I believe their blood is radioactive.” Zekes warned.

“What?” Braeburn turned his head, radioactive? Wasn’t that stuff in Sparkle-cola? Braeburn ran over what he knew of it in his head, which was not a lot frankly. He weren’t no unicorn, just a soldier.

“Yes, try not to let it onto your bare skin. A small amount is nothing to worry about, but too much will be quite deadly for you sir.” Zekes said, floating ahead of Braeburn and exiting the cafeteria. Frowning, Braeburn set off after it, stumbling as he did.

“Zekes, hold up.” Braeburn called after the Mister Handy, but to his irritation, it didn’t slow down at all, “Zekes! Wait a dagnab minute!”

Falling yet again, Braeburn’s muscles burned as he struggled to keep up the floating robot. His hind legs were heavy, and just lifting them made his knees sore. If he ever wanted to get used to the strain, then he’d have to put some work in with them. The temptation to go back on all fours was strong, but it would be no better than this, not with his fingers getting in the way and digging into his hoof. Besides, he was starting to get the hang of it.

Just as long as nopony asked him to do any flips, that is.

“Come along sir, adventure awaits and all that!” Zekes called from a different room. Growling something rude under his breath, Braeburn made himself stand up and hobble his way to Zekes.

When he crossed into the hallway, Braeburn caught a glimpse of Zeke’s magical engine float into another room. Using the walls as support, Braeburn made his way after the wayward robot. As he entered the next room, Braeburn was greeted with an odd sight, there was a single desk in the center of the room, on top of it was a terminal gathering dust. Behind it, there was a single bed with a larger than normal locker at the foot of it. On the bed however, were two intertwined skeletons lying next to each other in an embrace. Whoever they were, they at least died together.

“Hm, it seems this terminal still works. Sir, I imagine this will provide you with some answers to your current predicament.” Zekes said.

“Where are we?” Braeburn asked.

“The Overseer’s office.” Zekes answered, “Though, it seems the master has out for a while.”

Walking over to the terminal and booting it up, Braeburn spared a look at the skeletons, “Who's this Overseer you keep mentionin?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never met the pony myself. I don’t even know if it’s a stallion or a mare.” Zekes explained, looking at the terminal and seeing a frown cross Braeburn’s face, “Ah, password protected? Not to worry sir, I happen to know a trick or two.”

“Really?” Braeburn took a step back, letting the robot press down on a few keys with its only hoof like arm, “Ya know, for a robot who only got turned on a few hours ago, you sure do seem to know a’lot.” He noted, making sure to attempt to memorize the pattern Zekes used for whatever it was doing.

“Yes, well, the Overseer programmed me with a wide variety of skills.” Zekes chirped, looking at its only arm, “You know, I wasted my last good bone saw on you. I suppose you owe me a replacement!”

Raising an eyebrow, Braeburn was about to retort, but Zekes moved away from the terminal and allowed him to access it. Squinting at the screen, Braeburn rubbed his head, “What’cha gone did?”

“A bit of a hacking game, if you will sir.” Zekes answered, “Go on, try to guess the password.”

Looking at the mish mash of code and inputs, Braeburn shrugged. Running his fingers over the keys, Braeburn fiddled with the controls. Soon enough, he discovered how it worked and went to guess the password. Four little blips in the top left corner of the screen, his “guesses.” Moving over to one choice, “Redemption.” Braeburn hit enter.

“Incorrect password! Try again.” The monochrome green screen showed, and one little blip went out.

Scowling, Braeburn tried another, “Hope.”

No dice. Two more guesses.

“Belief.”

Still nothing!

Growling, Braeburn was tempted to put his hoof through the screen, but sighed. He had one last try, might as well make it count.

“Ah, sir, if I may, perhaps I should-” Ding! “Ah, never mind. What was the password, if may?”

Braeburn grinned, “Okey-doky-loki.” Zekes actually chuckled at that, turning back at the screen, Braeburn hit “enter” on the first entry log.

I can’t believe our good fortune, five additional work ponies, military nonetheless, have been added to our little Stable. Once we connect with Stable 98, we should be able to get up and running properly, and then we can put them to work. Even better, we have also gained another colleague, who will be of great help with the experiment, once we persuade him, that is. Big Bang, I believe he is called. There’s also, sadly, an unfortunate add-on to our group. A zebra mare. I have taken precautions, and she should be dealt with shortly. Interestingly, I have discovered she is to give birth soon. While I loathe the thought of letting another zebra into this world, I must say, I am curious the foal.

Braeburn frowned yet again, this “Overseer” didn’t seem like somepony you could share a drink with. Still, it seemed like Zidatti and Big Bang was okay. He was holding onto the faint hope they were still around, somewhere in this….den. Hopefully, the second entry would be better, and going by the date, this one was a few months later.

Damn and blast, those military ponies are still in stasis, and Big Bang refuses to work with us while the zebra is in labor. He seems to care for her a great deal, more so than he should. Blasted fool, does he not realize what’s at stake? I’m tempted to hold the zebra as leverage but...I shall not fall to their standards. Big Bang will join the Stable-Tec staff, the proper way.

In other news, we still have yet to establish contact with Stable 98, it is possible that the leylines were not able to connect properly with the bombs going off. But progress on the tunnel is going well.

Thank Celestia for small miracles.

“What’s this experiment he keeps mentionin’?” Braeburn asked.

“Ah, I do know the answer to that one, thankfully.” Zekes cleared its “throat,” “Ahem, each Stable was designed as a social experiment, this one included. Stables 100 and 98 were to serve as a joint project, to see how much they could “rely” on each other. 100 had the resources and supplies, 98 had the ponies.” The Mister Handy explained, “Basically, a trust exercise. Once the tunnel was completed, they could send either ponies or materials in an underground train that was only to be used every few months.”

Braeburn raised an eyebrow, “Seems awful convoluted. Why not just make one Stable with both?”

“I believe they did.” Zekes said, “Though I do not know which.”

Braeburn shook his head, this was all just...nuts, “Who made these blasted things?”

Zekes shook its eye, “I do not know sir, I am sorry for that.”

Sparing a glance at Zekes, Braeburn sighed and shook his head, one last entry. This one was set the furthest apart from the others by a quarter of two years, causing Braeburn to frown. How long had he’d been out?

I can’t believe it, Blast Shield actually planned on letting them die. All to fill his twisted experiments objective, Stable 98 is gone, I know it. I saw the bomb hit the city, and while Vanhoover was spared, Tall Tale wasn’t. Even when I told him this, he attacked me. Thankfully though, a few ponies kept their sanity and helped me fend him off. Luna have mercy, I still don’t know how we’re alive, but I can make damn well sure the ponies that saved my son’s life will live. I’ve placed them all in suspended animation until they can be saved, I’ve set the automated systems to heal their wounds over the course of time. It will be slow, but they will live. Zidatti approved of the choice. Dear, sweet, Zidatti, how could I have ever lived without you? Zebra or not, you mean the world to me. Braeburn seems happy, ah, that’s what we called him by the way, after the pony that saved Zidatti’s life. We’re expecting another child too; I believe we’ll call this one Zecka if it’s a mare.

One last thing, I don’t know how much longer this Stable will hold out, it’s supplies can’t run forever. So I’m leaving this message for whomever finds it, if you need help, find my Pipbuck, I don’t need it anymore.

And if this is one of the ponies that saved my life, go south, Vanhoover should still be standing. You should be able to find out what happened to the rest of the world.

Best of luck.

Big Bang.

“.....Damn.”

“Sir?” Zekes asked.

“Nothing.” Braeburn shook his head.

“Sir? Are you alright? You are crying.”

“I am?” Braeburn rubbed his eyes, taking a second to look at the fur, he discovered it was in fact, quite wet, “Huh, well, ah’ll be.”

Sniffing, he moved towards the footlocker. The lock was old, but thankfully that didn’t matter in the end. Somepony had left it open. Gently lifting it, Braeburn felt a sad smile come to his muzzle.

Inside was a Pipbuck, the same one Big Bang wore once. Alongside it was a photo of Big Bang smiling with a Zebra, whom Braeburn assumed to Zidatti.

“Ya came a long way, huh?” Braeburn muttered, “Would’ve been a grand thing, to met ya while you were like this.”

Behind him, Zekes floated close, “Are you sad, sir?”

“Nah,” Braeburn wiped his eyes, “Just mighty proud.”

---

Looking at the Pipbuck resting on his left hoof, Braeburn shook it slightly to help ease the pressure on his arm. The thing was heavy, but it worked. Already it had some of the features Big Bang mentioned when they first met, and the compass, or Eyes Forward Sparkle System, showed a blip somehow in his field of vision. Not only that, but something called S.A.T.S showed up on the right side of his eyes. It was quite disorienting, but it wasn’t the strangest thing he had seen today.

Along with the Pipbuck, Braeburn had also discovered a Stable 100 jumpsuit and a .10 millimeter pistol, complete with holster. Being stark naked ever since he woke up, Braeburn had elected to don the jumpsuit, much to his dismay, it only covered the top half of his body. From the looks of it, he would need something to cover the lower bit if he wanted to keep walking around like he was. What were they called? Plants? Something like that.

Rigging the pistol holster to fit on his chest as they walked, Braeburn finally breathed a sigh of relief. They had finally reached the Stable door. It was a massive thing, being gouged into the wall and kept inside by magical locks.

“Ah, it’s so good to see this again.” Zekes said, “Ah, sir, if you redirect your attention here, you’ll find the control panel. Your Pipbuck should be able to operate it.”

Moving up to the aforementioned control panel, Braeburn flipped open a hatch that had a magic socket, presumably for the wire thing on his Pipbuck, “Ya’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Only once.” Zekes said, “Only once.”

Well, that was downright strange. “Something ya wanna tell me?” Braeburn asked, taking the large plug on the back of his Pipbuck, he inserted it into the socket on the console. Soon, a rush of code assaulted the screen, but it calmed down well enough for only remaining option to be: Open Door.

Needless to say, Braeburn selected it.

“Ah, nothing really sir. It’s just been five years since this door was opened.” Only five? That didn’t make any sense, he had to be at least forty years behind- ”And two hundred and two since you entered!”

“What?!” Braeburn turned at the robot, his face contorting in anger, “Why didn’tcha tell me this sooner!?”

“You didn’t ask.” Zekes said, oblivious to Braeburn’s anger. Braeburn was about to retort that he damn well did, but Zekes pointed behind him, “Oh, I’d take a few steps back if I were you, sir.”

Turning around, Braeburn saw the Stable door slowly lumber open, allowing a rush of cool air to envelop him. Pulling away from the console and disconnecting the wire by force, he stumbled back. Shielding his face with his arms, Braeburn felt the rush of air beat against his fur. Soon enough, he lowered his arms and saw the lift that would lower him down back to the outside world. The same lift that saved his life all those supposed years ago.

Funny, it seemed like only an hour had passed in his vision.

“Well, this is where we say goodbye sir.” Zekes said, “Stable Tec personal are not allowed to leave.”

Braeburn turned, raising an eyebrow, “But you’re letting me leave?”

Zekes chuckled, “You are not Stable Tec, I could not stop you if I wanted to.” Braeburn looked at Zekes, and Zekes looked back.

“Well, Ah think you’re right there Zekes.” Stepping through the door, Braeburn entered the lift, “This is goodbye.”

“I imagine sir. Good luck.” Zekes nodded, then snapped its eye at him, as if remembering something, “Oh, and if you need something to do, I do believe the last pony to leave was Misty Gale, perhaps you should find her. You military types “leave no Pony behind,” right?”

Braeburn blinked, “Where their others?”

Zekes nodded, “Yes indeed, the ponies by the name of Rightful Oath, Bolted Screw, Misty Gale, and Zecka have all left, you are the last one to leave.”

“Why didn’t they wake me then?” Braeburn asked, saddened slightly, “We didn’t always get along well, but shoot, Ah didn’t think ah was that bad….”

“I do not know about that either sir.” Zekes said, “I only know so much.”

“....Ah see, thanks Zekes.” Braeburn said, smiling despite himself, “Ah’ll come back for ya one day.”

“Of that sir, I have no doubt.” Zekes agreed.

Sharing a nod, Braeburn hit the lift button, and felt the machine lurch beneath him. Soon, he began to lower, descending down ever still with the sound of steam and gears rocking his eardrums. But through all that, Braeburn swore he heard Zekes say, “Please, be safe.”

“Looks like I gotta keep that promise to the two of you now…” Braeburn muttered.

As the lift lowered and the Stable disappeared back into the mountainside, Braeburn turned, peaks of light poking through the rocks and the metal. Sure enough, when the lift lowered enough, beams of sunlight assaulted his vision, causing Braeburn to wince and shield his eyes. As he felt the lift’s ride finally end, the farm pony forced his eyes open to adjust to the blinding sunlight.

And saw a devastated world.

“What...what happened?” He asked weakly, staring at the green horizon.

From his position on the hill, Braeburn could see it all. Trees were burnt to a crisp, their fragile remains looked like broken fingers grasping for life, the ground cracked and radiated, pluming the scenery with a disgusting shade of green. Where there once a scenic outlook, jagged ground and broken hills jutted the landscape. The very air felt sick and poisoned, just breathing it in hurt, his Pipbuck’s Geiger counter was ringing like crazy. Immediately, Braeburn understood. This wasn’t the world he once knew; it was a nightmare.

Braeburn looked up into the sky, at least it was blue and cloudless with the sun shining brightly, despite the hellish landscape below.

“Thank Celestia for small miracles.” Braeburn said to himself, looking around. There wasn’t a lot nearby, the lift station, presumably the one that sent him up before was still there, but the window was broken, and it looked rusted beyond repair. Skeletons too, but there wasn’t any Power Armor laying about. “Guessing they lived then.” He said hopefully. Braeburn liked Steel Rangers, Applejack was always so proud of her armor and the ponies who wore it. Not to mention that Coltfriend of hers.

Ah….Right, probably dead now. Don’t think about it.

Glancing behind him, Braeburn was greeted with a curious sight for the third time that day. The car was still there.

“Huh.” Walking over to it, Braeburn ran his hand along the front left wheel and inspected it. The wood was rotted, and it looked like it had been stripped for parts. All in all, not the best condition, and unless repairs were taken up, it was unusable, but...maybe...with the right parts….

Well, it was something to do, at least. Looking at his map, Braeburn noted the presence of a Scooter blip on it, it was actually pretty close. Looking at what it was called, Braeburn chuckled weakly at the name, Red Racer Garage. Flipping through the settings, Braeburn noted the presence of his Sparkle Cola, Cram, pistol, and the photo. Strangely, the photo was labeled “Remember.” Huh, how did it know that? Magic scanners or something? Anyway, setting a waypoint to the garage, Braeburn hoped that he could find somepony there. Give him some idea of what the hay was going on.

Looking at the Pipbuck screen, Braeburn eyed the radio tab and grinned, “Hey, what’s on the radio?” he asked no pony. Flicking to the radio, Braeburn smiled, there were two stations. Something called Unitas Radio, and the other station called Vanhoover Skyline.
Flicking to the first one, Braeburn was greeted with a surprisingly cheery tune,

“Oooooh well, I'm the type of guy who will never settle down. Where pretty mares are well, you know that I'm around.”

“I kiss 'em and I love 'em 'cause to me they're all the same. I hug 'em and I squeeze 'em they don't even know my name.”

“They call me the wanderer. Yeah, the wanderer. I roam around, around, around...”

With the song on his ears, and heavy implants on his hooves, Braeburn headed off to the south, towards the Red Racer Garage. Who knows? Maybe this world wouldn’t be so bad after all.

After all, what could go wrong?

---

Level up!

Perk gained: Applentium Skeleton.

Your skeleton has been infused with an indestructible metal, limbs now take 30% reduced damage. Eh, you didn’t NEED those hooves anyway.

Comments

[TailsTales]

No description? This interests me.

[Swordslinger]

6806446

No, there is one. Not sure why you didn't see it though.

[TailsTales]

6806526 Probably because I am on my phone.