Fallout Equestria: Final Message

by errant

The Last Day

Shaking. Rumbling. Screaming.

The world was dying, and it was trying to drag Stable 29 with its slow descent into Tartarus.

The walls of the Stable shuddered horribly, metal squealing almost like an animal's cry. The floor vibrated underfoot. A dull rumble, more like a terrible feeling of pressure, filled everything. It underscored the soothing words playing out over the public address system.

"This is an automated message from Stable-Tec Headquarters. Sensors have detected levels of radiation and heat consistent with large scale megaspell detonation over major Equestrian population centers. Omega Level Threat Protocols are now in effect. All Stable Residents are advised to remain calm and await further instructions."

Vinyl didn't notice them, or the screaming ponies filling the corridors, or the flickering lights as the arcano-technology of Stable 29 struggled to maintain its function in the face of catastrophe. She practically threw herself at the terminal in her suite.

OH MY CELESTIA!

Tavi, are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay. Oh, buck, I love you so much. Please tell me you’re okay.

"Oh, please please go through. Please, Celestia, Luna, anypony," she murmured, half prayer and half mantra, as she transmitted the message.

The terminal tortured her, every second it spend trying to transmit her desperate plea seemed like an eternity. Usually the messages sent instantaneously, but this one just sat on her screen. Taunting her with its small indicators of progress as it tried its best to find a working communication link.

Finally, a beep. A happy beep. The message sent.

"Oh, thank everything," Vinyl whimpered. And then the first tear fell, followed by another.

---

Vinyl, I’m here. I’m safe here in Stable 101. I’m . . . I’m not really fine, am I? None of us are.

It happened, didn’t it? It really happened?

What am I saying? Of course it happened. We could hear the explosions even from down here. We received the warnings from Stable-Tec.

The door is sealed now, just like it was supposed to.

Oh, Celestia, Vinyl. What are we going to do?

I miss you so much.

Author's Note:

I'm working on the assumption that, despite the catastrophic damage of the Last Day, some parts of the infrastructure managed to survive. A few communication connections, barely working but still there, still stubbornly holding on as long as they can until time brings them down altogether.