Prologue: Guess Whose Luck Keeps on Rolling?

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The elevator dinged as it reached the floor. Penthouse. The Lucky 38 really was the best in New Vegas. Everything clean and operational, except for that one bloodstain on the casino floor. He had been meaning to reprogram a Securitron to act as a maid. Maybe give it a frilly Pre-War outfit, if he ever found one.

The image made him crack a smile.

The day had gone as usual. He had checked in on the Families of the Strip, made sure they weren't stepping out of line. Those White-Gloves needed attention especially, he wasn't going to allow another slip like the cannibalism debacle. Afterward, he had headed out to Freeside to make sure everyone was getting along. Luckily, he arrived just in the nick of time to stop a fight from breaking out between some Locals and the NCR. Feelings of hatred had calmed down greatly between the two groups, but some people still held onto old grudges.

He took out a bottle and a glass from a cupboard in the kitchen. A shot of whiskey, even though he didn't drink.

Next was the usual border patrol. He had gone out with a few Kings to check some of the areas around the gates to Freeside. They had recently been persuaded to lend more of a hand with the upkeep of the city. Now they were a bit more reliable in a fight. Who would have thought that impersonating "The King," as they called it, would carry over abilities in combat.

He grimaced as the whiskey burned a trail down his throat.

They had run into a group of Fiends, this time even further from the gate and fewer in numbers. A few Kings lured them out of the dilapidated building they called a camp, and he managed to take them all out at once, lucky shot from Annabelle, his missile launcher. Fortunately, the Kings were unharmed from the blast, even though they were close to the explosion.

The shot glass touched the counter with a soft clink. Moments later it was washed in the sink, and returned to its previous position. The glass, even when empty, always contained something: a story. One about his first time meeting a woman by the name of Rose of Sharon Cassidy, Cass for short. It had held the first shot of whiskey he had in her company, back at the Mojave Outpost. Right before he passed out, drunk from losing the contest to Cass, he slipped it in his bag. Lucky enough, nobody saw him stealing it.

He always liked to collect mementos like the glass. The past, after all, couldn't be changed, and he found it nice to have some sort of item to aid his memory.

Whether it was Pre-War or Post-War, he would grab it. He understood Mr. House's obsession with snow globes, Father Elijah's obsession with Old World tech, and even Ulysses' obsession with the Old World itself. The past held lessons; that he was taught the hard way. So he had crafted reminders of the past. House's snow globe collection was the first thing he finished, followed by incorporating large amounts of Old World tech from The Big Empty into New Vegas' infrastructure, and the American flag hung as a banner in the Penthouse. Each a testament to the past, and why it should be taken seriously.

'Who are you not to know your history,' he thought. Ulysses was a brilliant man, but he had had his run. Sometimes the past should be left alone, forgotten. Sometimes that was for the best. But Ulysses, he never let go. He let the past cut into him and leave scars in the shapes of claws and bites. It tore into his mind, and never released its grip.

He had learned a lesson from that. He mulled it over in his mind for a bit, recalling Ulysses and his lessons, the Divide, and ED-E. Perhaps it wasn't for the best that an Old World flag stood in his home. Thoughts passed through his mind like that for a few more moments before he was snapped out of them by a voice.

"Ryan, you're doing it again," a robotic voice with a cheery undertone echoed throughout the Penthouse.

"Yes, thank you for reminding me, Yes Man," he responded.

"Of course, sir, any time..." Silence came over the speakers for a few moments until they crackled to life once again with Yes Man's voice. "If it's not too far out of my place, sir, why do you keep all these things around if they bother you so much?"

A smile crept up Ryan's face, but it never reached his eyes. "Because the past is a teacher, Yes Man. She is harsh and stern, but she does her job, and she does it well. By remembering the past, we can know our future."

There was silence again over the speakers. Then, "Sir, I'm not sure if that made sense."

Upon hearing those words, Ryan's smile broke into a full-out grin. "Yeah, I know. I'm just messing with ya." He stepped out from behind the kitchen counter and walked up the stairs. He passed through some curtains into his bedroom area. The bed sat in the center, flanked by two bookshelves filled up with Pre-War books. The filled snow globe stand stood off to the side. He fell onto his bed and called out, "What's the status in the wastes today Yes Man?"

"My sensors are reading that radioactivity is unchanged from yesterday, sir. The NCR has reported a decrease in Legion numbers, and Camp Link is now under our control-"

"Camp Link?" Ryan interrupted.

"Camp Link is a relatively small Legion encampment just outside the eastern borders of the Mojave. The NCR is looking to annex more room and add it to New Vegas' acreage. They have yet to send you a copy of their formal request for expansion, but that should be due within a few days."

"Right, thank you. Anything else?"

"I received an invoice from the Followers of the Apocalypse. It seems that they have made progress in redesigning extremely long-distance radio towers, so communication with California and even the East may be possible in the next few years!" Yes Man's excited voice chirped over the speakers. "They also included a personal 'thank you' to you for giving them the Old World tech that made it possible for them to conduct the experiments in the first place. Boy, are they nice!"

Ryan chuckled at the machine's always-chipper tone. "Any word from... the others?" he asked tentatively, already knowing the answer.

Yes Man let out a sigh. "Don't worry sir, I'm sure that when one of them returns to the Mojave they'll head straight for the Lucky 38. I'll be sure to message you right away when it happens."

"Of course, Yes Man. Any other matters of interest?" Ryan asked, trying not to sound too crestfallen. His closest friends, Cass, ED-E, Boone, Gannon, Lily, Raul, Veronica, and even Rex left the Mojave for their own reasons. He didn't know when they'd return, and he grew more worried with every passing day.

"A courier from The Hub arrived in the Mojave today sir. He's currently staying in the Atomic Wrangler. When questioned by the Securitrons, he said that his matters were urgent."

"Geez, Yes Man!" Ryan exclaimed, jumping up from his bed. "Why didn't you say that earlier? A courier from The Hub? We haven't heard from them since I got sent to... I should get going."

He threw open drawers on the sides of the rooms and opened and closed wardrobes, trying to pick out what best to wear. "Might I suggest your Courier's uniform, sir. That might be the best to receive him in," Yes Man commented helpfully.

"Excellent idea!" Ryan exclaimed, while he ran to a wardrobe at the other side of the room and pulled out his outfit. It was a sleeveless tattered duster with the number 21 over a spade painted on the back. Leather straps with pouches were buckled on the chest of the torn shirt that he wore underneath, and metal knee pads were on the legs of his pants. The matching Rebreather was left in the wardrobe, he instead decided to go with his authority glasses and lucky gambler hat.

He pulled on his clothes quickly and strapped his pistol holster back on, making sure that his favorite gun, Lucky, would stay firmly attached to his hip.

He had acquired Lucky fairly easily. When he was exploring the half-dead town of Primm, he had gotten lucky while trying to break into a safe in the Bison Steve Hotel. Ever since then, he had never separated with the gun, as it had gotten him through some extremely rough situations when he was just starting out in the Mojave Wasteland.

He ran his fingers nervously over the club-shaped groove in the gun's handle. He didn't really enjoy shootouts, so he would try to avoid them in general. Sure, when it came down to it, he could handle himself, mostly because the universe would usually dispatch his enemies without him doing too much. Grenades would bounce mysteriously away from him, guns would jam, people would trip over unseen rocks. He had once won a fist fight when a man somehow managed to knock himself out by charging into a wall head first. He never truly understood how the man mistook him for the potted plant he had tried to tackle.

The elevator hummed as he took it down to Casino floor.

Lucky had been either on his hip or in his hand for almost every encounter that he'd experienced since he acquired it. Bullets that came from Lucky's muzzle never seemed to miss a vital point. Every shot was guided, almost, by an invisible hand, making sure that some form of target was hit. He once cleaned out an entire encampment of the Jackal gang with two bullets, one for the leader's head, and one to destroy some support beams that happened to be weakened by time. Luckily enough, he escaped before the entire building went down.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

The doors to the Atomic Wrangler swung open. He had never particularly enjoyed the place. It was one of the more seedy casinos in the Mojave, next to the Sierra Madre, of course. He respected the owners, James and Francine Garrett, due to their drive to contribute to Vegas' welfare, but they didn't do the greatest job of maintaining their own casino.

The air had a permanent stench of booze, smoke, and vomit. A sleazy performer was on stage singing Ain't That a Kick in the Head. The calls of gamblers, be it of anger or glee, could be heard from the adjoining room. What also could be heard were the constant banging noises coming through the ceiling. Undoubtedly some men were having fun with their "escorts."

He removed his sunglasses and shot a look to James Garrett, in his usual spot behind the main counter. A smile broke out on his face when he saw Ryan, but it disappeared when he remembered why he was visiting. "James! How about a pint? Put it on my tab," he called out while walking over.

James chuckled for a moment before filling up a glass from the tap. "You know our rule, Ryan, no tabs. And since when did you drink? I don't think you've ever ordered anything but water!" he exclaimed, but set the beer on the table anyway.

"I'll drink when there's something to drink to," Ryan answered, his smile relaxing as he picked up the glass. "So," he started before taking a small sip, "where is he?"

James' face paled slightly. He leaned in close and half whispered, "What's this all about, Ryan? You know I tolerate everything you do around here and help out any way I can, but this is much closer to home than I think I'm comfortable with. Is something big about to go down?"

"I can't be too sure about anything until I talk to him, James. The fact that The Hub is just now starting to re-establish communications with the Mojave is strange enough, but sending a Courier? Something's up, I know that much."

"That's good enough for now, I suppose. While you're here with him though, same rules still apply, alright? That means-"

"-No gambling, no fistfights, and no 'bringing the house down like that one time,'" they said in unison, each miming the quotation marks at the same time.

Ryan flashed the man a smile. "Ah, come on, James. You know I'll follow the rules. And that was just one time, let it go," he said good-naturedly.

"Alright, alright. He's in the other room, playing slots the last I saw. Francine should be hovering near him, wanted to make sure he had everything he needed. We're no suck-ups, but when we get a VIP, we take good care of him."

"Thanks James," Ryan said, producing a few caps for payment of his drink.

He started walking to the other room, lost in thought already. All the way from California? I've only made that trip myself a couple of times. This guy must be pretty serious about talking with me if he went all the way by himself.

He turned the corner and noticed the man quickly. As James had said, he was playing on a slot machine against the wall, his back turned to Ryan. As he expected, the man was wearing another form of the Courier outfit. This version seemed to be a redesign of Combat Armor, but the color scheme, instead of gray and green, was a dirty red like Ryan's. On his head sat a desperado cowboy hat, smudged with a substance that looked like ash. The ensemble was made complete by the large 22 painted on his back. Francine was a few feet away, looking on in discomfort, like she was eager to be somewhere else.

Ryan approached and nodded at Francine wordlessly. She received the unspoken message and took off at a fast pace. As he got closer to the man, the ambient noise of the gamblers in the room seemed to fade out slowly, going down to a gentle roar instead of an all-out assault on the ears.

"This place is fantastic, you know that?" the man said without turning around. He had a deep, gravely voice, even lower than Ulysses' was. "I mean, I've been all over the place. The Boneyard, Vault City, New Reno, hell, even San Francisco. None of 'em even come close to the drinks and gambling here." He tugged on the arm of the slot machine, sending the slots into a spin. "Not to mention that it's a helluva lot more dangerous here than anywhere else I've been to in the West." The slots stopped. He got a cherry and two lemons, only doubling his gamble. Some chips spilled out and he stacked them neatly to the left of the machine.

"That's not too many chips. How long have you been here?" Ryan asked.

"About an hour or so, why?"

"Let me help you with that." Before the man could spin the slots again, Ryan grabbed 20 of the 25 or so chips the man had stacked and fed them into the machine. He pulled the arm down with a little force. Shortly afterward, three 7's flashed onto the slots, causing lights to flash and a brief, happy song to play. Chips began pouring out the machine, but Ryan had played enough slots to know that it totaled up to 600.

"Whoa, someone has the golden touch, eh?" the man said, trying to gather up his chips.

James' head poked around the corner of the room. "Ryan! What did I say about gambling in here!?" he called out.

"Sorry James, won't happen again!" The man's head disappeared back around the corner.

"What was that all about?" The Courier asked, still without turning around.

"I've been banned from gambling here. And just about everywhere else," he sighed.

"Really? What for? Fistfights? Gunfights? Did you stab someone?"

"They said I win too much. I remember the Ultra-Luxe's floor manager actually told me that they were tired of paying me to play there." Ryan chuckled.

"Guess you really do have the golden touch." The man hit the slots again as a moment of silence passed between them.

"Those Securitrons are beefy bastards, huh? I'd love to get in a scrap with one of those machines. I watched a guy try to run into the Strip when I first got here. He was in pieces before taking five steps." He laughed. "Whose idea was it to give those tin cans missile launchers, grenade launchers, a machine gun, and a gatling laser?"

"That was me. The Securitrons are mine."

Ryan noticed the slight sudden intake of breath the man made. "Well, then, uh, I suppose you have the city under your control?" he asked in a slightly more wary tone.

"Yeah, I keep order around here. The Families of the Strip throw me some caps, and I keep the factions in check. Not like I need to anymore, anyway. Things are finally starting to calm down, now that I don't have the NCR and the Brotherhood constantly breathing down my neck about things."

"So do you live in Freeside, or on the Strip?" the man asked.

The question gave Ryan pause, then an idea. "You know what, let's go. I'll show you my place, and we can talk there. It isn't every day that we receive someone all the way from California."

"Alright, if you insist." The man gathered his chips, then stood up to face Ryan. His complexion was rough, wrinkles from the sun criss-crossing their way across his face. His skin was tanned a darker brown, and the only facial hair he had to speak of was a small outlining of stubble on his chin. If Ryan had to guess, the man was in his late 30's or early 40's. The voice matched the face exactly.

They walked out of the Atomic Wrangler next to each other, Ryan slightly ahead of the man. As they passed through the stage area, a hush fell over the small crowd. Even they, the drunks, gamblers, and drunken gamblers, could sense that something was stirring in the Mojave. They knew that the presence of two Couriers meant something, they just didn't know what, and neither did Ryan.

They opened the door and exited. The air outside was clearer and much more crisp than the booze-laden air of the casino they had just left. The sun was just beginning its descent in the sky, casting a light orange over the city of New Vegas. Of course, the effect was ruined slightly by all the lights, but Ryan appreciated it nonetheless. "I don't think I got your name?"

"Wayland. Joseph Wayland," he said, continuing his stride.

"So you have this entire casino, a fucking casino, all to yourself!" Wayland exclaimed as he looked about the interior of the Lucky 38's casino floor in wonder.

"Place is all mine. The slots aren't usually on, nobody's here to play them. I had a Securitron deal for Blackjack once, but I got bored of it quickly. Kept dealing me perfect hands." He stopped before the elevator and laughed. "I cleaned myself out!"

Wayland quickly caught up to Ryan and the two took the elevator up. "And all the electronics here run perfectly! I didn't think that a place like this existed in the Wasteland!"

"Well, most of the stuff you've seen around Vegas; most of the lights, new streets, drinking fountains, the upgraded walls, et cetera, are all made using Pre-War tech that I salvaged from Big Mountain. There was this abandoned research facility filled to the brim with electronic junk, and I managed to jury rig a teleporter to bring most of it back here with me."

Wayland looked thoughtful for a moment, his hand to his chin. "I gotta hand it to ya' that's pretty damn impressive. Even I couldn't pull off something like that," he admitted. "Not like I'd want to anyway. Things in California are going pretty smoothly."

The elevator dinged Penthouse Floor. The two exiting, with Ryan leading them to the bar. He picked up the conversation quickly. "Glad to hear it. Been some serious radio silence from Cali ever since The Divide went down." His expression darkened slightly upon thinking of the accident he had caused.

Wayland put a hand on his shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face. "That was a real shame, what happened there. I remember hearing reports about Courier involvement, is that true?"

Ryan nodded sadly, then pointed to the wall behind and above Wayland. The man followed his finger and noticed the giant flag hanging over the room. Ryan spoke, "I'm the one who caused it," he related. "Another Courier, Ulysses, was there too. Kinda swore revenge on me because of what I did. Went back a few years ago and ended it, and him." Ryan's expression made it clear to Wayland that he didn't want to talk about it any more.

He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. "Drink?" he asked, holding up the bottle.

"Lay it on me," came Wayland's reply. Ryan handed it over and Wayland cracked it open on the bar. He held up the cap questioningly.

Ryan shook his head and Wayland pocketed it. He sipped his beer in silence for a few moments. When he was done, Ryan started the conversation back up. "So are you new to the business? I don't remember hearing about you back when I still worked in The Hub."

A strange look passed across his face upon hearing the question, but it cleared quickly and he answered. "I joined up a few months ago. You were probably out here by that time."

Ryan caught the look he had before it disappeared. It raised a question in his mind, but he decided not to press it. Still, something seemed off about his reaction to such a simple question. "Yeah, I probably was. Time kinda loses its meaning here. Especially since I took over, everything has been happening so quickly. If I didn't have Yes Man helping, I probably would have split under the pressure by now."

Wayland raised an eyebrow mid-sip. "Who's Yes Man?" he asked after he set his beer down.

Ryan pointed a finger up. "Yes Man, could you say hi to our guest?" he called to the ceiling.

Before Wayland could accuse him of being insane, the PA system crackled to life. "Pleasure to meet you, sir!" a chipper voice said.

Wayland chuckled. "That's something, all right. Hi, Yes Man."

"Yes Man, could you send a few Securitrons to the Presidential Suite and have them clean up a bit? I made a bit of a mess the last time I used the workbench."

"Of course, sir. It'll be ready for Mr. Wayland here in just a few minutes."

Wayland raised a hand. "Hold on, hold on! That won't be necessary."

Ryan looked at him questioningly. "Really? You'd rather stay at the Atomic Wrangler? Is it because of the hookers? I bet it's because of the hookers. Yes Man, can we get hookers? People probably wouldn't be afraid of the Lucky 38 if we had hooker-"

"I'm not staying in the Mojave," Wayland cut him off.

"What?" Ryan stopped his tirade and looked at the Courier.

"I'm not staying in the Mojave," he repeated. "And neither are you, not after I tell you why I'm here."

"...I'm listening," Ryan said in a careful tone.

"The Hub. They want you back," he said.

"Explain." Ryan walked out from behind the bar and motioned to some couches that sat nearby.

"The Hub. They heard about what you did here, and they decided they needed you to rejoin the Couriers. So they grabbed me and told me to track you down."

Ryan sat still for a moment, contemplating what to do. "What if I say no?" he asked quietly.

Wayland drew a 9mm pistol and aimed it at Ryan's face. "No is not an acceptable answer," he said forcefully.

Ryan stared at the barrel of the gun like it was a gnat bothering him. "Go ahead, pull the trigger," he said simply.

"What? This is me threatening your life, why won't you just come with me?" questioned a baffled Wayland.

"I said shoot. Pull the trigger. Send me on my way," Ryan continued nonchalantly, leaning back into the couch.

"Will you just stand up and go with me? Painless, I promise."

"I said shoot, dammit!" Ryan suddenly yelled and feinted toward the gun.

Wayland jerked in surprise and mistakenly pulled the trigger on the pistol while falling backward into the couch. But, to his further surprise, it didn't fire.

Ryan had his head directly in front of the gun's muzzle, breathing slightly harder than before. He snatched it out of Wayland's hand in disgust. The man watched as he pulled off the slide and revealed what had happened. The bullet had gotten lodged just outside of where the magazine loaded in. "But I just cleaned it when I got here-" Wayland started but Ryan cut him off.

"This is why you don't fuck with me!" He stood up in anger, throwing the parts of the pistol at Wayland. He recoiled and they clattered to the ground. "I have survived the impossible! This is my town, and this is my city! Hell, the entire Mojave Wasteland is mine!" He spread his arms out wide, red in the face. "The odds are always in my favor, don't you get it!? I cannot die!" he proclaimed wildly before sitting back on the couch.

He adopted a calm expression quickly, putting his palms together in front of his mouth. "Do you want to hear a story?" he asked suddenly.

He took Wayland's half horrified expression for an affirmative and continued. "When I first showed up in the Mojave, carrying a package that changed everything here forever," to emphasize the point he pulled out the Platinum Chip and slammed it down on the end-table in front of them, "I was shot in the head, twice. Just boop, boop," he mimed a gun to his forehead, "right into my noggin." He sat still for another moment before continuing.

In a lower-pitched voice that sounded eerily similar to Wayland's, he said, "But then how are you still alive?" Then, in his normal voice, "I'm glad you asked!" He broke out into a manic grin. "I guess I am just so God-damn lucky that nothing bad ever happens to me! The bullet lodged itself in my brain, luckily just missing a few major parts. Luckily enough, a Securitron saw it all happen and dug me out of my own grave. And I guess that you could chalk it up to good luck that a doctor that was proficient in brain-surgery just happened to live nearby, and luckily he dug it out without too much damage!" He paused, breathing hard.

Wayland slowly settled back into his former position on the couch and attempted to calm down. "Ryan, you have to come with me."

Ryan snorted in disgust and fell back into his seat, casting his gaze to the floor-to-ceiling windows. "You're not running. People are supposed to run when I say things like that. Actually, you're the first person that hasn't run away screaming when I do that." he said softly.

"You only convinced me that you are the one that I- we need."

"And I suppose nothing I can do short of killing you will get you off my ass about this?" Ryan sighed, already seeing how their encounter will turn out.

"Nope. You've gotta come with me."

There was silence for a few moments as Ryan stood up to get a better look of the Mojave. "How long will it take?" he asked quietly.

"Few weeks, tops. We need you for one job in particular, that's it. If you don't want to stay after that, then fine. You can walk away." Wayland stood up to go join him by the window. "We're getting as many Couriers as we can. This is a top-priority mission, and we need your help; especially if everything you just told me is true," he said sincerely.

Ryan mulled it over in his thoughts for another few moments before responding. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as possible," he said, an equal parts victorious and relieved tone working its way into his voice.

"Give me a few minutes. I need to get some stuff from my room. Help yourself to the fridge, I won't be taking anything from there for a while." He turned around and walked up the stairs, speedily heading to his room. His footsteps echoed off the solid floors, the only sound present in the room.

He brushed past the curtain that stood in for a door and headed straight for his weapon trunk. He threw the top open and rustled in the space, looking for something in particular. His hand brushed against a round metal object, slightly warm to the touch. Carefully, he grabbed it and withdrew it from the trunk. It was a hand grenade with a white cross drawn on it. Holy Frag Grenades, he thought, turning it over in reverence.

He had used the other two already, one for Caesar, one for Legate Lanius. The grenade made things all too easy, in his opinion. Who would have thought that such a small thing would pack an explosion even larger than the Fat Man's Mini-Nukes? He was just lucky he made it of the explosion alive.

He carefully placed the grenade in one of his pouches. He pulled out a Marksman Carbine from near the bottom of the chest. He tugged out the mag to make sure it was full, then he grabbed three more extra. He slung it over his back using a strap he made from duct tape, then looked back down at the chest. With slight hesitation, he grabbed two lever-action shotguns and put them in makeshift holsters crossed on his back. He kicked the chest shut then walked over to a wardrobe and quickly grabbed Ulysses' rebreather. Some places between Nevada and California were still irradiated pretty badly. He didn't want to be caught unprepared for something like that.

He checked that he had a good supply of Stimpacks and a few Sunset Sarsaparillas for good measure. He had a surplus of 20 gauge shotgun shells and a seemingly endless amount of .357 magnum bullets. The amount of ammo he was bringing would last for weeks, months even, due to the fact that he hardly ever needs to shoot. Not to mention that he would find ammo almost everywhere he looked across the Wasteland, even places where it didn't make sense. One of the questions that plagued his mind constantly was Who just throws out .50 caliber bullets?

He made sure his straps were all straight and did a final weapons check. With everything good, he walked back to rejoin Wayland.

"Remind me again why I decided to go with you?" Ryan asked. The two were sitting across from each other at a camp fire. They had left the Mojave two days ago, taking the Long 15 through The Divide and out to the surrounding countryside, or what was left of it. Just dry, dusty wastes as far as the eye could see. Night had fallen a few hours back, and they decided to stop to rest. His Pipboy told him it was around midnight, and radiation clouds covered up any light the moon could give off.

Wayland chuckled. The man was a tough nut, that was for sure. He had held his own extremely well through The Divide. Ryan recalled watching Marked Men flee in terror when the man tore apart Deathclaws with his Power Fist like they were made of tissue paper. He certainly had a lot of life in him. "I told you, we need you to help us. And by judging how good you are with that pistol there, you're a sorely needed member of our posse."

Ryan took the compliment in stride, dishing one back himself. "Really. I would have thought that they'd be fine with you and your Power Fist."

He held up his gloved hand, flexing his fingers. "Yeah, Bessie and I have been through a lot. I remember every dismembered limb like it was yesterday." He sighed nostalgically.

A brief silence followed. "So can you crack mutfruit with that?" Ryan then asked, pointing to the glove.

Wayland glared at him for a moment, but it dissolved into a smile, and soon the two of them were laughing uproariously. But just then, the sound of a rock tumbling over from behind them got Ryan's attention and he spun around, drawing Lucky in the motion. He aimed it directly into the darkness surrounding them and fired.

A wail issued forth from the black, and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground reached their ears. Ryan rose slowly, keeping Lucky aimed at the spot. He put his other hand to its hilt and listened as Wayland jumped up and turned a knob on the side of his power fist, causing the front to retract slowly, steam issuing forth. He swiftly picked up a burning plank of wood from the fire and tossed it where Ryan shot at.

The improvised torch rolled over, sparks flying wildly. It settled and illuminated the lifeless body of a feral ghoul. Ryan's body tensed and he saw Wayland do the same. It seemed they shared the common knowledge that ghouls hunt in packs. Wayland turned around and shot a look to Ryan.

He nodded and reloaded Lucky hastily. After doing it so many times, it was all just second nature to him. He holstered the weapon and withdrew the two lever-action shotguns strapped to his back. He pointed them out into the darkness, ready to fire at any moment. Ghouls by themselves weren't much of a threat, but when there's a few... bad things could happen.

Wayland took a few measured steps backward, moving closer to the fire. He had his hands up in a fighting stance. The two were back-to-back, standing almost over the campfire. It wasn't giving off too much light but Ryan knew that they would hear them before they saw them.

A groan and a hiss made itself known in Ryan's ears. His head snapped to the right and he stared steadily into the dark. He sheathed his left shotgun quickly and grabbed another burning plank. Luckily, his hand was far enough from the flame that it didn't burn him. He tossed it into the distance in front of him like Wayland had.

A moment of quiet followed, upset only by the crackling of the flame. He redrew his gun and scanned his surroundings again. Nothing, not him or Wayland, moved. But then something out the corner of his eye caught the firelight. Two reflective eyes caught the glow of the flames. An emaciated ghoul walked into the light, his hands held in front of him and mouth open slightly, showing off the crooked, bloodstained teeth.

Ryan ran forward a few steps and fired his right shotgun. The bullets flashed out and suddenly the ghoul's head was just bits and pieces, flying backward with great force. Several more moans echoed out from the darkness, and he felt Wayland rush forward. Ryan turned to see the man scoop up a torch with his free hand and run with it.

Ryan sheathed his shotguns and withdrew the carbine around his shoulder. He would need the extra range while Wayland was out removing some of the ghouls with his power fist. He watched down the sights as the man launched a ghoul backward with more force than bullets could give, killing it instantly.

Ryan noticed a ghoul approaching from Wayland's turned back, and a bullet was quickly put in its head. Lucky shot, he thought as the ghoul crumpled instantly.

Suddenly a hiss came from directly behind him. He spun quickly to see a ghoul sprinting at him at full speed. Thinking quickly, Ryan grabbed his gun by the barrel and swung it like a baseball bat at the irradiated nightmare. There was a sickening crunch as the stock connected with its shoulder. It stumbled, and Ryan had Lucky out and two bullets in the thing before it had a chance to recover.

He turned around just in time to duck the body of a ghoul sent flying by Wayland's power fist. The man had fared well in the fight. Not a scratch on him, just flecks of dark-red blood. He was walking back to the fire with a cautious gait, eyes flicking back and forth. "I think that's the last of 'em," he said to Ryan when he was back in front of the fire.

Ryan just nodded, scanning the surroundings one more time. No sounds gave away the presence of more ghouls, and his eyes didn't catch any movement. He set the marksman rifle down on the ground slowly. With great caution, he walked to the ghoul whose brains he had blown out. He checked the various folds of his tattered clothing and something metal clinked inside.

He grabbed the cylindrical objects and withdrew his hand. Opening it up, he saw that the ghoul had a few bullets and a cap. He immediately recognized the bullets as being 5.56mm, the same type that his carbine used. How fortunate, he stifled a laugh.

He counted four bullets and pocketed the cap. He went and sat back down and put three of the bullets in a spare pouch on his chest. He pulled the magazine off his gun and quickly loaded the round where one was missing. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed Wayland crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at his fortunate find, but he said nothing.

The magazine went back into the gun and he slung the weapon over his shoulder. He pulled out two .357 bullets and reloaded Lucky, then put a 20 gauge round into the shotgun he had fired.

When he finished, Wayland spoke. "That's why I don't use guns, normally. Too much hassle to keep them clean and loaded constantly. Prefer just using my fists. They never jam, at least."

"I like having the extra range. I'm most comfortable when my enemies are at least a few feet away. Helps that I almost never miss," he chuckled, letting off the extra adrenaline.

"Yeah," Wayland yawned. "Why don't I take first shift? You get some shut-eye and we'll swap in a few hours, alright?"

"Sounds good." Ryan immediately stretched out on the ground and closed his eyes. As normal, he fell asleep instantly.

"So when do we get there?" Ryan asked. The two had been trudging along the Long 15 for a few hours. He had spent enough time talking with Wayland to know that something was wrong. Whenever he had asked anything remotely personal, the man would dodge the question, or take longer than necessary to respond, like he was making up the answer as he went along. Whatever his problem was, Ryan couldn't figure it out.

Wayland sighed. "Soon enough, Ryan. Soon enough." He kept walking, his cowboy hat blocking most of the sun's rays. He must be baking in that armor, Ryan thought. I'm glad this thing has the sleeves torn off, otherwise I'd be burning up. But Ryan could pick out no signs of discomfort on the stoic man. It seemed that the closer they got to their destination, the more distant he became.

They continued walking. After a few minutes, Ryan began to notice something in the distance. Several old homes, it seemed. They were walking into a dead town. As they kept on, clouds starting to roll in from the edges of the sky. "Where are we?" he questioned when they got closer.

"Calico, but that doesn't matter now." Wayland responded without turning around. There was a certain bite in his tone, to Ryan it sounded forced, like he was making a conscious effort to speak.

They walked into the center of the town, having encountered nothing but the skeletons of houses and, occasionally, people. The clouds had closed up the sky by that point, leaving the sunlight dimmed greatly. Wayland sped up his pace suddenly, walking towards the center of what Ryan assumed used to be a park.

"Hey, wait, hold up," Ryan said, increasing his pace.

"No." Wayland stopped suddenly. He was looking down at his feet. There was a lot of dust on the ground, but Ryan could just make out the edges of something made of stone set into the ground.

He stopped in his tracks, his hand moving unconsciously to his hip. "Wayland, what are you doing?"

The man kicked out with his boot, causing the dust in front of him to fly forward. A stone tablet was partially revealed. It appeared to have some markings inscribed on the surface, but he couldn't make any of them out from where he stood.

Something was definitely up, he thought. His fingers began to slowly close over Lucky's hilt in trepidation. "Wayland?" He took a step forward and drew Lucky, setting the sights on the man's head.

He began to slowly raise his arms up above his head.

"Wayland! Whatever it is you're doing, stop!" Ryan shouted, then fired a warning shot up in the air to try to scare him.

Wayland flinched, then turned around to face Ryan. He was wearing a toothy grin, something that had never been present on his face ever before. "Why would I stop now, Ryan? When we've come this far?" he laughed, somehow finding the situation amusing.

"What do you mean?" Ryan demanded, still pointing the gun at him.

"Look around you! This is ground zero! And I've finally found you!" he waved his arms around, gesturing to the ruined town and then to Ryan.

"Huh?" Ryan couldn't make sense of what he was saying.

"Let me explain. This is ground zero, as in where I entered. And after searching for quite some time now, I've found you. So why don't you tell me: who's your mother, or who's your father. Whichever one isn't human."

Ryan's jaw hung open in shock. He had absolutely no clue as to what Wayland was saying whatsoever. "I- I don't understand," he managed to stammer out.

Wayland's arms crossed. "Oh come now 'Ryan,' we both know you're just playing at this. Who's your mother? Fortuna? Tyche? Or is it your father? Fukurokuju? No, I bet it's Bishamonten, that would be so typical of him."

Those names sparked a memory in him. One of the first Pre-War books he had read was an account for many of the Old World's religions. The names he had thrown out were gods and goddesses, all related to luck. His eyes widened in realization of what Wayland was asking about. "You think I'm a demigod?! Are you fucking insane?!" he yelled, lowering Lucky in exasperation. "I've met some lunatics in my time in the wastes, but this is ridiculous!" he exclaimed.

Wayland flashed a false smile, one that spoke of shortening patience. "Drop the act kid. Tell me who your parent is and I'll be sure that they get a good explanation as to why you vanished."

He talks about them like he knows who they are... Ryan connected the dots and took a look around. He remembered how quickly the weather had changed when they entered the town, and he began to notice other smaller things about the area. Some of the scorch marks were fresh, and the amount of dust gathered was only enough to account for a few days. The explosion that totaled the town happened recently. This is where he 'entered.' "You're a god?" he questioned incredulously.

"Wait, you seriously didn't know? Pffffff-ha!" Wayland threw his head back with the laugh. "But it would be like you to assume that I'm a god. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to read a book by its cover?" Before Ryan could respond, his form began to shimmer. A veil of something that looked like heat waves covered his form for a moment. When they dissipated, Wayland was no longer a man, but a woman! He still wore his Courier's uniform, but it had become tailored to his new body.

"Oh, it feels good to be back in my more natural form!" She shot a hand to the left and a bolt of lightning struck down from the dark clouds that hovered above. "I was never that good with flat out power, but it's still fun to flash around." She fixed her gaze on Ryan. "So, Mr. Vegas, do you know who I am?"

Ryan thought for a moment. "No," he answered decidedly.

She sighed. "No recognition these days," she mumbled before a shimmer appeared in the air behind her. When it disappeared, she held up two more arms and two new legs stuck out to the side awkwardly. "How about now?"

Despite what he had read about the various mythologies and pantheons of gods in past civilizations, he was unable to recognize the apparent goddess before him. He maintained a scowling face. "I'm afraid you weren't important enough to remember.

Her frown deepened. "Humans these days, so out of contact with their roots." As she spoke, a faint image overlaid her form, making it appear as if she were wearing elaborate white cloths and jewelry. He was able to identify the style as Greek, but otherwise didn't recognize anything else. "I am Atë, the goddess of misfortune and mischief. Now, can we just skip to the part where you tell me who your parents are?" she growled the question.

The goddess of misfortune. Ryan's blood chilled as he began to realize just how screwed he might be. "I don't know who my parents are, okay? Can you just shove off and leave this place alone?" Ryan asked, despite knowing he was treading on thin ice. Even so, he felt a bit emboldened by the fact that he was evidently somewhat powerful as well. Powerful enough to cause Atë to go through this many hoops to get him to Calico instead of just smiting him back in the Lucky 38.

"Ooh, trying to be brave, are we? Well, if you don't know who your parents are, then I guess we'll have to do this differently," she put a hand to her chin in mock disappointment. "Looks like I'll take your Luck and then remove you from this world! Then your parent won't know where to look for you!"

Ryan's blood chilled at the words. "Remove me from the world?" he managed.

Atë had stepped backward, across the stone in the ground. Her hands had begun to glow an ominous deep purple and she looked down with her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Yes. A necessary step now, all because you wouldn't comply. Such a shame, really. I would have loved to see you try to manage in the Wasteland without your precious Luck. Too bad." She raised her hands, all four of them, and a pillar of purple light erupted from the stone and shone continuously into the sky.

"Like hell!" Ryan managed to squeak out. He swung his carbine over his shoulder and began pouring lead into the area where he knew she was. The bullets whizzed through the purple light, where they met his target, with any luck. He hit the end of the magazine quickly and threw down the gun.

He withdrew the shotguns from his back and fired each one once into the pillar. Then he paused, wanting to make sure he hit something. He circled around to the other side of the light, guns held forward the whole time. When he looked around he emitted a sound of surprise; nothing was there. He spun the guns around vertically, holding them by their levers to re-chamber a shell.

He backed up slowly, eyes darting around and checking everywhere Atë could be. Suddenly she phased into existence to his left and shouted "Boo!"

He swung his gun at her, but she disappeared too quickly for him to make contact. She appeared again to his right and he fired off a shot, but it missed. He rapidly spun the gun again.

They cycled around like that for a few minutes, and Ryan could tell something was terribly wrong. She would appear and Ryan would fire, only he could never hit her due to some strange circumstance. He would stumble on a rock, back into a building, or just plain miss as the buckshot would spread in a way that excluded making contact with her form. Eventually, his left shotgun jammed, and he quickly got down to his final shell in his right shotgun, and he knew that he couldn't spare the time to reload. She was just toying with him at this point, so he had to do something to surprise her.

The next time she appeared, he fired his shotgun at her, threw his jammed one, and dropped the other to on the ground. He ran toward the pillar of light rapidly, stopping directly in front of it. He spun around to try to locate her.

She materialized a few feet in front of him, too far away to do anything, but still too close for his comfort. He leveled Lucky at her head, finger on the trigger. "You really are quite the shot, Mr. Vegas," she laughed. "Some of that buckshot actually made contact! I had to raise a shield to block it, how bothersome." She put her hands on her hips. "Of course, I have to account most of that fancy gun-work to your insane Luck, so I suppose it wasn't really that great."

"Not a step closer," Ryan threatened with a wavering voice and unsteady nerve. What he planned next was close to suicidal, even for him.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "And just what do you think you're doing?" she asked.

With a shaky hand, Ryan withdrew his Holy Frag Grenade. Despite all his fear, he still smiled. "Come any closer, and I pull the pin and count way past three. My Luck, as you said, will probably see me through the explosion. But can the same be said for you, Goddess of Misfortune?" His smile slowly morphed into a smirk as her face fell into a rage-filled expression. "You mad?" he taunted cockily.

She began to mutter something under her breath, too quiet for Ryan to hear. Her eyes sparked into a deep purple and her hands glowed the same color. She began twitching her fingers, manipulating them in awkward, painful-looking ways. Ryan quickly realized that spelled bad news. A glow spread around his body, tinged dark green. As she continued her work, it faded grayer and grayer.

He pulled the pin on the grenade, counted to three, then tossed it at her. "Catch ya later!" he called, then turned and jumped into the purple pillar of light behind him.

And in a flash he was back laying on the ground. But it wasn't the ground from before. This ground was white and freezing cold. He sprang up from his prone position and recoiled from the offending substance. Bits of it stuck to his clothing and his short-cropped brown hair. He brushed it off quickly while beginning to shiver from the cold. He took quick stock of his limbs, finding none damaged, and took a look around.

He was standing in a sloped field of snow. He recalled seeing the white stuff when he went snowboarding with some super mutants up in Jacobstown once. Not the most fun he ever had, and he grew to hate the white powder that continually met his face. It was too cold for him, in his mind. That's where he assumed he was now.

The sky was clear and he could see that the peak, along with the sun, was far above him. Before doing anything else, he brought up his Pip-Boy to check his body condition. His Inventory accounted for Lucky, his Courier uniform, and a fair deal of bullets. He apparently lost some on the way over. He browsed to the Data screen and checked his notes. No changes there. He checked for radio signals and was surprised to find that there were none.

That happened sometimes in the Mojave. Losing radio signals could happen quite frequently in the mountains, so it didn't alarm him too much, but something about it still felt wrong. He forwent checking the maps and skipped to his status. His limbs were each at 95% or so, nothing but a few scrapes and bruises. He had around 25 rads, not too serious; and no degrading effects.

He was going to go back to the Data tab, but something stopped him. His finger paused an inch above the button. Then, on an impulse, he hit the button to go to his S.P.E.C.I.A.L statistics. Everything was where it should be, fives and sixes across the board, and a 10 for Luck.

But wait... He looked more closely at Luck. Where there was once a little '+' sign, there was nothing. Some of his Luck was gone.

He dropped his arm and stood staring into the distance. Then, in disbelief, he checked the Pip-Boy again. Same thing. He flicked the screen once to make sure it wasn't incorrect. Nothing happened. Son of a bitch, she actually did it, he thought.

Welp, nothing else to do now but get back to the Lucky 38 and arm up with a Fat Man and every Mini Nuke I can find. She's so going down. He pulled his wrist back up and tabbed to the Data screen. He opened up his map and went to set a destination at his casino. But what he saw bewildered him.

Instead of his familiar Mojave map, he saw a completely strange one, different from any he had ever seen. In the center was a mountain range, with a strange formation on the western side. To its north-west were some oddly shaped clouds, all surrounded by wide areas of trees. To the east of the tall mountains was a smaller, wider range that he was marked as standing on. To the east were a few plains and what looked like a few towns. The southern border was comprised of desert-like lands, and the northern border appeared to be just a frozen wasteland. Train tracks crossed all over the land.

There was one place marked on the map. It hovered over a small village just to the south of the tall mountains and to the south-west of his position. It had the marker for not-traveled-to, and, upon closer examination, revealed the name to be "Ponyville."

In confusion, he checked his quest log. Almost unsurprisingly at that point, all of his completed quests had disappeared, leaving only a single objective for him.

"New World Blues"
-Rediscover civilization.

With a shrug, he set a waypoint and began trudging off through the snow.

Princess Celestia was in the middle of the Day Court when she felt it. A sudden shift in the distribution of power across Equestria. A frayed politician was in the middle of proposing an alternate currency to bits when she stood up. The pony stopped in the middle of a sentence and the grand hall fell silent. Celestia flapped her wings a few times and glided over to a wide window set in the wall. She looked out to the east to see a light, tinged slightly purple, fading into the sky like the aftermath of a sonic rainboom. It appeared to be centered somewhere over the Foal Mountains.

Something was off, she knew. And she knew that Luna must have felt the same thing too. Right on cue, the mare of the moon teleported next to her sister, eliciting a surprised gasp from the ponies gathered in the room. She nudged Celestia's side and whispered almost inaudibly. "You felt that also, correct?"

"I did, Luna. And I fear that our world is once again being meddled with. This time by something far more powerful than Discord." She clopped her hooves on the marble floor, causing the noise to echo throughout the silent hall. "Day Court is adjourned for today, my little ponies, I apologize for the inconvenience, but this is a matter that requires my immediate attention."

She and Luna walked off through a door next to the thrones with the usual guard escorts, their minds aflutter with unease at the events beginning to unfold.

Chapter 1: New World "Blues"

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Princess Celestia and Princess Luna quickly walked through the hallways of the Canterlot Castle. As they passed by maids and guards, heads turned and whispers followed. Nopony could quite remember the last time the princesses were so agitated by something.

"We have planned for this, Tia. We know what must be done," Luna said to her elder sister. It was true, the two had made a plan for such an occurrence many years ago, just after the defeat of Discord. It's sole purpose was to keep Equestria neutral in the event that a foreign god or goddess tried to bring Equis, their planet, into conflict with other beings. Establishing diplomatic ties with whatever just appeared in the mountains was crucial.

"I know Luna," Celestia responded, keeping her head forward and eyes narrowed. They were lucky enough that no other divine beings had tried to suck the two of them into a greater conflict. She and her sister were only minor deities, confined to their planet and not possessing much power beyond that. Even so, their strength was still far greater than the lesser gods and goddesses with no planet to rule over.

They concluded their walk at the war room, at the top of the tallest tower in the castle. Anti-teleport wards, along with magical dampening fields to discourage fights among generals, were in place across the entire floor, unfortunately extending the time it takes for them to reach it. The relatively small set of doors opened as Celestia pushed them with a golden shoe-clad hoof.

The war room had the explicit purpose of acting as a central hub for Celestia and Luna to direct their forces across Equestria and beyond. A large map/table sat in the center of the room, the walls were lined with gray-colored magical monitoring equipment, and another door led out to a balcony that circled the outside of the tower. Unfortunately, due to a lack of warfare in the last few centuries, a thick blanket of dust covered the magical machines and the map. It didn't really matter all that much, though, given the fact that all of it was extremely out of date. A small amount of light was let in from the filthy windows around the room.

"I'll summon the generals," Celestia said, lighting her horn up. She quickly fired up the underused one-way telepathic link that each general, unicorn or not, was given on the date of their promotion. A few moments later the three generals that served the Equestrian crown knew where to go.

Luna was attempting to start one of the monitoring systems. Her hoof clicked a button, but nothing happened. She pressed it a few more times, hoping to get a reaction, but still nothing happened. Her eyebrows knit in frustration. She leaned forward and slammed on the button rapidly, still eliciting nothing from the machine. She growled in anger, then kicked the thing futilely.

"Did you try turning it off and on?" Celestia jested from beside the map table. She had been watching her sister's struggle the entire time, suppressing light giggles.

"Laugh all you want, Tia, we need these infernal devices running as soon as possible." She sighed, turning her head to look at a dark monitor set in the machine. "Should I call the repair staff?"

"I don't think that's necessary. These 'infernal devices' are probably useless. They haven't been used for years now. Look at the map, even. It's out of date as well." Celestia blew the dust off of the old map/table, sending a brown wave cascading through the air. She frowned at the inadequacy of the map, after being able to view it completely. Manehattan, Vanhoover, Fillydelphia, Baltimare, and Los Pegasas were all missing; and Ghastly Gorge wasn't in existence yet. "The Crystal Empire is even there- oh, wait, that's actually correct now."

She turned and walked over to the windows. She swept a hoof across the brown surface and smeared off the dust, allowing vision outward. Conveniently enough, the window pointed out towards Ponyville and half of the Foal Mountains, where the purple flash originated.

Then, a thought struck her. "What do I tell Twilight?" she asked both to herself and Luna.

Luna looked up from the map and raised an eyebrow. "Simple. Tell her nothing. It's bad enough that we have to share this information with the generals, but-"

"Share what information with the generals?" She was cut off by a voice coming from the doorway.

The princesses turned and watched as three old ponies filed into the room. Bombshell, First Class, and Overwatch, earth pony, unicorn, and pegasus, respectively. Bombshell was the one who had spoken. He had a dark green coat, faded slightly from age, but his mane was still a dark brown, cut to Equestrian Army regulation. His cutie mark was a broken bombshell casing, the inside of it partially revealed by the two halves.

"I think we need to know what's going on, Princesses. This appears to be serious, if what I felt earlier is any indication," said First Class, the unicorn. He was a light tan, the same color as the sand that covered the beaches by Los Pegasus. His mane was slicked back and colored a steely gray. His cutie mark was a silver medallion held up by a blue and gold ribbon. He was holding the Arcane Ops beret that usually adorned his head.

"I agree, this is a matter of national security!" exclaimed Overwatch, the pegasus. His coat matched the afternoon sky perfectly, right up to his bald head. His cutie mark was a lightning bolt, flanked on either side by wings. It matched the pin for the Air Squadron that he wore on his tan combat jacket.

"Generals, thank you for coming on such short notice," said Celestia. Her face didn't show it, but she secretly disliked the stallions. Age had eroded their sharpness somewhat, and they could sometimes be as stubborn as the nobility. Overwatch grated on her nerves especially, always claiming matters of little importance to be threats to "national security."

"We wouldn't miss it, Princess. It's been a while since we have been summoned to war council," said Bombshell.

"...I don't recall ever calling a war council in your lifetime, General," said Celestia, irritation poking in the back of her mind.

The earth pony blinked. "Oh. Well then, carry on, I suppose."

"Yes, what is it you wanted to tell us?" asked First Class.

Of the three graying stallions, First Class was Celestia's favorite. He did a good job of staying focused, despite being old, and was extremely sensitive to problems involving magic. It also helped that he attempted to court her in his earlier years. It never developed into anything, but Celestia could still see the sparks in his eyes that drew her in so long ago.

She smiled, prepared to give a short explanation, but Luna cut in. "Purple flash, Foal Mountains, probably some sort of foreign god." She was studying the map intently, as if it could shed some light on the situation.

The stallions all looked at each other in slight confusion. Celestia shot her sister an annoyed look, then cleared her throat. "What Princess Luna means to say is that we believe that a divine being has just landed in Equestria, as First Class may have felt." She chose to ignore the shocked expressions of the generals and continued. "We do not have much in the way of information now, other than the fact that it is absolutely necessary that our planet remains neutral in any and all affairs that are otherworldly." She took a deep breath. "It is, for this reason, that I will go and meet with our 'visitor' and attempt to make peace.

"Generals." As soon as the words left her mouth the three snapped to attention, "I am assigning each of you to the three cities closest to the Foal Mountains. I do not want that being making contact with a civilian. Bombshell, you're assigned to Manehattan." The stallion snapped a salute and stepped forward. "If you are bringing any weapons, which I assume you are, carry only concealed ones." Her gaze broadened. "The same goes for you two as well. We need to exercise caution in this affair."

"Of course, Princess," the three responded simultaneously. Oftentimes they could be daft, but other times they were right on the ball.

"First Class, you're going to Ponyville, I will have the components necessary for a long-range teleport gathered and sent to your room immediately." She nodded, and the aged colt gave a sly grin in response. Celestia had to suppress a slight giggle. It seemed that he still had a little charm left in his old body.

"And Overwatch." She let out a breath before continuing. "You'll be stationed in Fillydelphia." Hopefully as far from the action as possible.

He snapped a hoof to his forehead in a salute, grinning broadly. "I won't let you down, Princess!" he said before turning tail and scrambling out of the room. Well, scrambling as fast as an elderly stallion could.

Luna, in the meantime, was trying to force open the door to the balcony. Celestia picked up on the sounds and turned around. "Luna, what are you doing?" she asked.

The mare paused in her administrations for a moment and turned her head to look at Celestia. "I think the better question to ask at this point is what are you doing? We need to leave immediately." she said before kicking the door once.

Celestia calmly walked over to the door and put her hoof on it, stopping Luna from trying to open it again. "We will not be leaving. I, on the other hoof, will be." Luna's mouth opened but Celestia cut her off. "Somepony needs to be here to manage things while I'm negotiating. You know how the courts are supposed to run." Then, in a darker tone, "Besides, if things do not go well, Equestria will require at least one princess to rule."

Luna's mouth opened again to object, but closed after a moment's thought. She knew that her sister had her beat, and she lowered her head. Celestia moved in to wrap her wings around her little sister. "I realize that we are about to enter some trying times, but we must stay strong and have confidence," Celestia said sympathetically while lifting up Luna's chin with a delicate feather. "Besides, somepony has to keep the nobles in check," she added on a side note with a small smile.

Luna giggled slightly. "Alright Tia, I'll stay here and look after the foals. But I expect you to return quickly, understand?"

"I understand perfectly." Celestia broke their hug and reached out a hoof to open the door. She grasped the handle and pushed, but nothing happened. She then put more of her weight on the wood and pushed harder. The door budged, but didn't yield. She sighed and glared at the door for a moment, then she turned and gave it a solid buck.

The stubborn door finally gave way and flew open, unhinging on the top. It hung crookedly while Celestia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She stepped outside into the sunlight and spread her wings. Before taking off, she gave Luna a quick glance and said, "Send the castle's interior decorator and the engineers up here and tell them to update the room. We may need it soon." She flapped her wings once and jumped over the railing, sailing off into the midday sky.

When I get home, I'm outlawing snow. Ryan was trying to work his way down the mountainside, forging a path towards his destination, Ponyville. So far he hadn't encountered anything dangerous, besides a few birds that seemed fascinated with his hair. He winced at the memory. It was only worse because his hat had been lost in the transition between places. Strangely enough though, his sunglasses had remained on his face.

He shivered as a chilly breeze cut straight through his Courier uniform. Well, if I freeze to death I'll look damn good while doing it. The thought caused a smile to light up his features. He waded through a large snowdrift, then stopped for a moment.

He looked up and let his eyes wander across the area he landed in. He had halted his progress periodically since his landing on the mountain, but he never tired of the view. The mere thought that this place was untouched by radiation stunned him. He was entranced by the sheer beauty of the green hills and abundant forestry that dominated the plains. He was too close to the ground to see "Ponyville," mostly because it was hidden by a thick forest.

He took a few steps and jumped off the snow-covered rocks onto the non-snow-covered rocks slightly below him. He stumbled slightly, but he regained it quickly.

"Well, that wasn't too bad," he said while brushing the snow off his clothes and arms with a shiver. He quickly made his way down the slight slope that made up the base of the mountain. "So far, celebrating nuclear winter is not on my bucket list."

He walked off into the treeline humming to the tune of Jingle, Jangle, Jingle.

But he didn't notice the snow-white winged creature fly far above his head, looking for him specifically.

It's like being back at Vault 22. He shivered again, but not from the cold. Actually, compared to the mountain, it was much warmer. It seemed as if he was in a completely new area, separate from the chilly atmosphere he just left.

He stepped over a bush and then under a branch. His eyes constantly scanned his surroundings, and his eyes flicked down to his Pip-Boy periodically, checking the device's compass and sensors to make sure he was on the right path and that nothing was obstructing it. It would be great if, for once, he didn't have to shoot something on his way to a town.

With that thought in mind, he drew Lucky and checked to see if it was still loaded. It was, no different from the other twenty times he had checked it over the hour. He sighed, recognizing his nervous habit of inspecting the gun. I wish some other guns fell through. Or I wish there were some Raiders I could take guns from. I would have loved a nice shotgun for reassurance here.

While it is true that Lucky is by far his favorite weapon, there was some appeal to a shotgun that he couldn't deny. Maybe it was the satisfaction that comes with absolutely obliterating an enemy by perforating them with buckshot. It could also be the fact that he used them in such close quarters that aiming was unnecessary. He shrugged mentally.

Ryan didn't truly fit in with a shooter archetype like most of the Mojave's inhabitants. When taking a walk there, he could always spot how people usually favored combat. Many chose some form of rifle that would work at medium to long range. A whole ton of people just stuck with a typical close-ranged 9mm pistol. A few would carry around shotguns or some form of explosive besides dynamite, and hardly any would use a sniper or similar scoped weapon. The most common sort of weapon he saw by far, though, was melee. Anywhere from rolling pins to Super Sledges, he always ran into somebody trying to bash his head in.

Ryan himself was a little bit all-over-the-place. Lucky was always with him for the close to medium range fights, including ruined buildings. But then he would usually carry around a shotgun or two, for the CQC that tight hallways provided. Then he would typically carry a medium to long range rifle, like a Marksman Carbine or the Anti-Materiel Rifle. That would've been nice to have too.

He looked back down at his Pip-Boy to check the sensors. Still nothing. More walking it is, then.

Hours passed. He just trudged along the entire time. It was something he was used to, for the most part. A lot of his time in the Mojave was spent wandering around and looking for something to do. He had crossed through a stream an hour or two before. It was freezing cold and rad-free, unlike the few water sources the Mojave had to offer. He'd never forget the time he had to dive to the bottom of Lake Mead to float up a Pre-War bomber. He was lucky that the Lake-Lurks ignored him.

A little while ago he had passed across some train tracks, but he didn't follow them. He had gone so far towards his waypoint, he wasn't going to give up and follow some tracks to nowhere.

Soon after that were some hill-mountains. He didn't really know another way to describe them, because they were taller than hills, but smaller than mountains. Instead of going all the way over, he just found a lower gap between some peaks to slip through with no trouble.

Then he had found himself back in another forest, on the verge of cursing his luck. He was sick of plants, couldn't the world just understand that? I really wish I brought a machete with me, that would've worked wonders through here.

But, no. Instead he was shoving his way through annoying greenery in a dimly-lit foreboding forest that was trying its hardest to freak him out. Of course, by that time it was past 7:00, and the sun had mostly set. Not that it mattered, because the thick foliage would have blocked it out anyway. When I get back home, I'm nuking Vault 22. I don't want to see another living plant for the next 10 years.

He checked his Pip-Boy yet again. It was routine at that point, his eyes hardly seeing the screen as they glazed over it. He faintly registered a red glow from the screen and then he lowered his arm again, ready to keep on walking-

Wait. He checked again to make sure he wasn't mistaken. The compass' sensor had marked a hostile a little ways in front of him. He crouched down quickly, drawing Lucky automatically. He forced himself to not check his bullet-count, because he already knew he was fully loaded, then crept forward relatively silently. The trees seemed to give way to a clearing of some sort.

He brushed aside a stray branch blocking his view and took a look. It turned out that the forest had stopped altogether. A few feet in front of him lay a large body of water with a few isolated rocks sticking out near the shores. Across that body of water he could see some lightly trimmed trees and the tops of some structures. All that was visible were the tips of the roofs, but it was enough to see that they were thatched like the houses from the Grognak the Barbarian comic books.

His eyes scanned the somewhat-dark surroundings, the moon gave off so much light that it was almost as bright as day. He checked the Pip-Boy's sensors again to make sure there was still a threat. The little red tick still remained, set dead ahead of him. He didn't see whatever it was, but he couldn't always see Nightkin either. He figured it would be better for his health if he erred on the cautious side of things.

He stepped out of the forest tentatively, moving to the left slightly to make sure of the exact location of the threat. It appeared to be in the water, just off-shore. He raised Lucky, still careful not to make a sound. He aimed it toward the water and tried to peer into its depths. His eyes couldn't see past its calm, reflective surface, despite his best efforts.

Keeping Lucky up, he raised his Pip-Boy and clicked a small red button on the side. He felt electricity surge through his body as his nervous system was willingly hijacked. His vision gained its own personal display, showing how much ammo he had loaded in his gun, what gun he was using, and various other bits of semi-useful information. A small logo for V.A.T.S. sat in the upper-left corner of the screen.

A figure was outlined in white, just below the surface. It had a body shape similar to that of a gecko, if it even walked on all fours. Several areas were marked off as being Head, Body, and Legs. Each area had a small bar next to it, a calculation of the probability of him hitting that area with a shot. Currently, the head was at 89%, the body was at 95%, the two legs closest to him were at 34% each, while the other two legs seemed to be covered up by the body and had 0% each.

With a mental shrug, he allowed the technology to take over his body and fire with a simple thought, aiming directly at the head. The shot rang out and echoed across the landscape, the only sound in the otherwise silent night. The bullet flashed into the water, causing a small shower to spring forth and splash onto his shoes. Just after its entry, though, the water was disturbed further by something thrashing below the surface. Ryan smiled, assuming his bullet had met its target. He shook off the tingly feel of lingering electricity shooting up and down his nerves, a residual effect of V.A.T.S.

He checked his Pip-Boy again, returning it to the main screen and compass. The red marker was gone, but in its place were tons of white ones, spread out before him. He was sure now that the town across the lake was inhabited; and he had never seen such a large amount of people in one place before.

With a physical shrug, he holstered Lucky and stood up, looking around for a way across the water.

Princess Celestia flew onto the balcony of the war room and sent a telepathic message to her sister without a moment's delay. She was breathing hard, a result of covering hundreds of miles by wing throughout the day. She knew Luna would be in the middle of her night court, so she didn't expect her right away-

He thoughts were interrupted by the mare of the night entering the room. The creaky old door slammed open, and in rushed Luna, an expectant grin on her face. As she looked around an saw that Celestia was alone, her grin vanished. A few emotions cycled through her face quickly as she saw Celestia's worn-out expression.

"Tia, what has happened? Did you find our visitor?" she asked, concerned.

"No," Celestia panted out, "I didn't."

Chapter 2: Unusual!

View Online

I think that's a bridge over there. Ryan had been scouting around the edges of the water for the better part of an hour. As he walked closer to the object in the dark, he flicked on the light on his Pip-Boy, illuminating the ground around him in a short radius. Luckily, he had turned it on just in time to avoid tripping on a cluster of rocks.

The white light illuminated the bridge. As best he could tell, it was made of wood and colored some shade of pink, though that may have just been the light playing tricks on his eyes. It was well made, and sturdy. It hardly creaked as he walked across it.

He looked ahead and stopped. There was something about the village he was about to enter. It wasn't foreboding in any way, it was the opposite, in fact, but something about it just caused him a slight discomfort. He looked up at the stars and peered into the black depths of space.

Night wasn't his time. When he used the night as a tool, it was done with meticulous planning beforehand. He preferred to be able to see the targets he was shooting at, for one thing, and going into a new place with a complete lack of knowledge about it wasn't a good idea. The foremost thought on his mind was that they might mistake him for a raider, given his tattered clothing.

He backed up slowly, weighing his options. It might be better that I wait until daytime.

He thought it over for a moment before deciding that would be the best course of action. He turned his back on the idle village and walked towards the shoreline again. Maybe I should go check my kill. If it's a gecko then at least I can get a decent meal, he thought with a frown.

He was absolutely sure he wasn't in the Mojave anymore. The animal he had killed might not even be a gecko. By taking into account the lack of radiation in the area, and the fact that plants actually grew, he got the feeling that it wasn't a gecko.

He stopped where he guessed he had fired the bullet into the water. He checked his Pip-Boy's compass again and frowned at the water. He hesitantly stuck his hand in, swished it around for a moment then removed it hastily. His heart rate had accelerated slightly, and he took a few breaths to calm down. He plunked down into the grass, wiping his cold, wet hand on his pants.

He didn't know why water scared him. Hardly anything scared him anymore. He had been everywhere from New Reno to New Canaan, faced down enemies that were far out of his league, and usurped the throne of Mr. House, but water... He had tried to rationalize it years ago. Read every book on psychology and the human mind he could find, even journeying through Vault 19 multiple times to search the med bays for information.

He classified it as a phobia eventually. An irrational fear not of water itself, but of what it may contain.

He was lucky, then, that the waters of Zion Valley were crystal clear, and mostly knee-deep. And it was also lucky that he had the resources to scrap together a few dozen flares that could burn in the water to scare away the lakelurks when he dove to the bottom of Lake Mead for the downed airship. He was really that desperate for the Boomer's help.

He swallowed hard and plunged his hand back into the dark depths. After a quick moment of blindly searching, he caught hold of something hard and rough and pulled it up. It took all his strength to haul the carcass of the animal to the surface, something he accounted to its seemingly thick hide. He pulled the rest of it out and let it drop to the grass. He flicked on his Pip-Boy's light to get a better look.

It was big, that was for sure. Its hide seemed to be made of rocks, its color a deep green that was close to black on some parts. It's body shape wasn't too different from a gecko, though; wide mid-section with a larger head and stubby legs. A small hole was on the flat part of its head; evidence of Ryan's marksmanship. He opened its jaws and looked inside. The teeth were razor-sharp, and the mouth and tongue were a solid gray. He poked the roof of its mouth and was surprised to find that it was hard... as a rock.

He sighed in frustration, already assuming that the thing wouldn't be edible. But he wasn't about to let a good meal go to waste in case the opposite were true. He didn't have a knife, so he needed to be a little creative. He grabbed a small stone from the grass beside him and measured its weight in his palm. It was thick, but not too hefty. He raised it up and slammed it into one of the creature's sharp teeth. It shot out with a resounding crack, and Ryan quickly fished it out of the thing's mouth.

He held the point of the tooth out the bottom of his hand, grasping it firmly. He stood up and kicked the creature over on its back. The exposed belly seemed to be less thick, but not by much. Without so much as a wince he dug the tooth in near its neck and dragged it down in a swift movement.

He sighed. Just as he had expected, nothing inside seemed to be edible. He felt around for a moment and took note that everything on the inside was hard as rock.

He stood up and cracked his back, then stooped back down and hefted the animal up with both arms. He threw it over his shoulder and began walking away from his little grassy area. After going for a minute or two, he abruptly turned and walked out into the forest. After attaining a respectable distance, he unceremoniously dumped the creature at the base of a tree.

He couldn't eat it, so surely something in the forest could make a meal out of it? And be far away from him at the same time?

He retreated to his area and sat down at the base of a tree. He leaned his back up against the trunk and sighed. There was nothing left to do but wait for the sunrise.

Earlier...

First Class smiled excitedly. He hadn't received an assignment from the Princess for years. As he and his colleges exited the underused war room he ran a hoof across his mane, making sure it stayed slicked back. The generals began to walk down the spiral staircase to take them back to the castle's main halls, Overwatch was in front of him and Bombshell was behind. His thoughts began to wander to his destination, and that of Overwatch.

Surely the Princesses wouldn't mind... He tapped Overwatch on the flank twice to get his attention. The elderly pegasus snapped up and twisted his head around so quickly it seemed as if it might snap off. First Class recoiled from the violent reaction but regained his composure in a quick few seconds. "Hey, Overwatch, do you mind if we switch towns? I have some family in Fillydelphia that would love to see me."

The old coot's face lightened up a bit. "Sorry, but Princess's orders, Class. Can't do it."

Bombshell's eyebrow rose slightly at the exchange between the two, but he didn't say anything.

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on, Overwatch. It wouldn't be that big of a deal. We'll all still get a post at a major town, it's just a little switch. I'm sure sh- they would be fine with it."

Overwatch considered it for a few moments as the sound of hoofsteps on stone echoed in their ears. "Alright," he grumbled at last. "Just don't mention it to anypony."

Ryan stood up and stretched his back. He had woken up quickly, as the sun shone directly on him. He was a light sleeper, a trait that had been instilled in him since he joined with the Couriers. The town before him must have just been waking up, without a doubt. He was certain that some people there had been up long before he was.

There was nothing left to do but walk in, say 'hello' to the locals, and get directions to the nearest gun dealer. Wouldn't be too difficult.

But then why did he have a sinking feeling in his gut?

He shrugged it off, dismissing it as a feeling of hunger, due to his missed meal the night before. He was used to three square meals back at the Lucky 38, even if they weren't always fantastic. He recalled a time where all he had to eat were a bunch of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. He shivered as he remembered the so-dubbed "Snack Time of Doom." His friends wouldn't speak to him for at least a day afterward.

He straightened his duster and put on his sunglasses, making sure he looked presentable. He walked over to the bridge, ready to cross.

Going to a new town is the same as any other. You need to eat the food, see the sights, use the wrong verbs. You'll be laughed at, mocked or made fun of, or even threatened; but you'll know what's going on. And knowledge is everything. With those thoughts in mind, he strode across the bridge in a way that implied he knew exactly what he was doing. Heads up, shoulders straight, smiles on.

He walked up to one of the houses and paused in the shadow it cast for a moment. He heard chatter from around the corner, it sounded to him like a marketplace of sorts. He pulled the lapels of his duster closer in, took a deep breath, and-

"That's unusual!" he heard an elderly voice holler out.

"What? Oof!" Just as he turned his head, he was tackled by a light-blue blur. The wind was knocked out of him instantly, and he hit the ground hard on his back.

"You're not getting through me!" said the voice again.

Ryan's instincts kicked in. He threw his left elbow at the source of the voice, making contact with something soft. At the same time, his right arm snaked down to his hip and drew Lucky. He then popped his hips up and rolled over to his right, using the momentum from the elbow he had thrown.

He jumped up quickly and posed to shoot at his attacker...

But then he froze. His attacker didn't seem to be a man at all. It- he, definitely a he, looked like a horse. Sort of. It's legs were much more blocky, and there was the fact that he was wearing a combat jacket. He was struggling to get up, head down, snorting heavily.

Ryan dropped his arm. "That's new," he said, stunned. He holstered Lucky and stood up fully. "You look like a horse, but you're not quite there. You talked earlier, which means you have vocal cords, and that you're sentient. That's beautiful! I love it!"

He paused, a grin on his face. But then it fell slack quickly. "Oh, wait just a minute." He pulled up his Pip-Boy and tabbed over to the maps. "Ponyville..." He looked up again, the smile back on his face. "I get it! You're a pony, is that right?" He laughed out loud. "That's excellent! I love it when people have a sense of humor with these things!" He walked forward and stopped by the side of the sitting and confused-looking pony.

"Hold on," noticed something soft and downy on the pony's side. "You're not a pony! You're a pegasus! That's brilliant!" He paused, stretching down a hand to spread the wing out to the side. "You must be able to fly, even through your wings are so small compared to your body size. Like a bee!"

He held up his hands and made a square with his fingers. His left eye squinted shut as he looked through his finger frame with his right. " Or, given wing shape, speed should have to compensate for body mass, then." His face brightened up again as he drew another conclusion. "Maybe more like a hummingbird, then. That is just fantastic."

His face fell again and he took a step back. "Guess I'm not in the Mojave anymore. Unless Atë actually just knocked me out and suspended me in some virtual reality. That would suck." He turned around and began pacing. "But that would mean I'm in a Vault experiment. And every Vault VR experiment has a fail-safe to extract the user!" A victorious smile took over his features. "But wait, they could only plan sims from three templates, and this isn't one. Damn."

He finally took note of his surroundings, and, to his surprise, there was a ring of ponies around him. Each was a different pastel color, and all had funny-looking manes. Looking over their heads, he noted that the ring was at least four bodies thick. Several pegasai flapped gently in the air over the crowd. He took notice of how easily the pegasai were keeping airborne, despite how slowly their wings were flapping.

He looked at the mob surrounding him. "You all look surprised. That's fascinating." His eyes caught something while he mused over the facial expressions. "You there!" pointed out a random pony in the front of the crowd. The rest backed away quickly with a gasp of fright. The random pony himself just sat down quickly. He was slate gray, with a spiked black mane that ran down the back of his neck. Ryan was running off the assumption that he was male, due to the flatter muzzle.

Ryan walked forward and kneeled, then put his hands on either side of the pony's face and smushed it around. "Interesting," Ryan murmured to the shaking pony, "you have extremely well developed facial features, despite having a muzzle not really designed for expressions." He pulled open the pony's mouth and tilted his head sideways to look inside. "Flat teeth, good for chewing grasses; you're herbivores!" he exclaimed, standing back up and backing away. Then a thoughtful expression passed onto his face. "Wait, that's actually not very interesting. Oh well." He shrugged.

"Hold on! You don't have wings!" He spun back around to face the pony just as he had begun to retreat into the crowd. The pony, panicked, sat down quickly again. Ryan patted his sides, as if wings might be concealed. "No, no you don't have wings," he mumbled, his gaze turning to others gathered around him.

"You there! You have a horn!" The pony he had called out froze up immediately and the crowd backed away from her. The pony was white-ish, with a pink mane that cascaded down and ended in swirls. He bent down to look in her face. "You have a horn, but what is it used for?" he thought out loud. "You're an herbivorous species, which means it's not a weapon... Hmmph." He filed it away in his mind to consider later.

He stood up and clapped, causing the crowd to flinch. "Well, you're fascinating and all, but I should probably-" He was cut off as a noise sounded from his Pip-Boy. He looked down at it and flipped over to the Data screen, then the Quests tab.

"New World Blues"
-Go with your captors to speak with the Princess
-[Completed]Rediscover civilization.

He looked back up, confused. "But, what?"

Then, in a sudden flash, he couldn't move. He was surrounded by a soft light-purple aura, just an inch from touching his skin. "That's quite enough!" he heard a female voice from above him. With a little effort he craned his neck back so he could look up to where the voice came from.

Lucky enough for him, the owner of said voice lowered from the sky. It belonged to a female pony, colored lavender with a two-toned mane, dark purple with a pink strip. "Wait, you have a horn, and wings!" He laughed. "So that means that your species is named 'pony', but you have common minor mutations that change your physical form. This just gets stranger and stranger! Darwin would have a field day here!" he exclaimed.

The mare, he supposed that would be the correct term since they were so equine in shape, tilted her head in confusion. "What are you? I've never seen anything like you before."

Ryan sighed. "There goes any hope of there being more humans around here," he mumbled before continuing in a louder voice, "I'm a human. Species homo sapien." He made sure to pronounce the words clearly so she didn't misunderstand them.

"Uh huh," she nodded before turning to the skittish crowd around them. "Alright everypony, you can relax now. Just go back to what you were doing." She looked back at Ryan, a spark in her eyes, surrounded by suspicion and mistrust, but a spark nonetheless.

"Thank you for capturing it, Princess, I'm not as young as I used to be," said the only pony left from the crowd, the pegasus that had tackled Ryan when he walked into town. The mare, Princess apparently, turned around to look at the pony. "Overwatch? What are you doing here?"

"Looking for that thing, thank you very much. Princess' orders."

"Well, it's great to see you again. We should go get it to her, that sounds important."

The voices faded into the background as Ryan's mind raced with all the new information. Princess? That implies a feudal order, but there's more than one? Must be a distribution of power among authority. The Queen should only be a figurehead, if the Princesses can order captures like that. Females are definitely the predominant gender, not many males. Funny that they're not mentioning a Queen or a King, either.

He felt his body shift, then lift into the air. He hovered a few feet above the ground, suspended by the colorful glow. "And where is that coming from?" he wondered aloud. His gaze wandered around the area, then focused on the horn of the Princess. It seemed to be surrounded by a shimmering aura of the same color that encased him. "So that's what the horns are for!" he exclaimed, drawing the attention of the two ponies that had been conversing.

"You're controlling this with your horn, then. It's strong too, I can barely move." He wrenched his neck forward and bent the aura slightly. His head tilted downward to get a better look at the ponies below. They both had their mouths open in shock, which in turn surprised Ryan slightly.

He raised an eyebrow, then, in an experiment, pushed his left arm down with as much force as he could muster. It lowered to its normal resting position beside his hip. He looked back at the ponies, only to see that both their pupils and irises had dilated to minuscule size, while their jaws were practically touching the floor.

Hmm... "So what's this made of, anyway? I've never seen a force-field that conforms to body shape, or that can be bent and refracted, so that's out. Not getting any rads, so it's not a plasma-barrier." He stuck his tongue out and licked it, then smacked his lips in thought. "Tastes like purple, but what does that mean..." he trailed off with a thoughtful expression on his face. It brightened up a moment afterward when he thought he figured it out.

"It's pure energy! The horn acts like a conduit so you can give your innate energy shape! And you're obviously very good at controlling the energy, very strong with it, and I shouldn't be able to move at all; if your expressions are anything to go off of!"

The pair shot a look at each other, then their mouths closed simultaneously.

"No, there's a problem with that. If you were to theoretically hold that much energy in yourself at one time, or go for an extended period without using it, then that would cause an overflow of energy. Evolution wouldn't have that, so that means you draw energy from somewhere else..." He paused and looked around at the landscape. "Which means it must be the planet itself. That's what I must have felt when I walked into this town, the collective energies of its inhabitants."

It was a complete guess, but they both seemed to react to it like he was correct.

"So you can manipulate this energy field, but he can't? No, that doesn't seem right. You wouldn't be able to coexist like this if one common mutation had so much more power over than the other." His eyes trailed over the blue pony: Overwatch. He remembered how odd it was that his wings were so small...

"So that's how it works. You can manipulate the energy field too, but in a different way. Your wings must be connected to it, that's how you can fly so easily." He stopped for a moment and let his mind catch up to his mouth. "Your species is really, really fascinating!" He stopped again, lost in thought.

Overwatch and the Princess both glanced at each other, then Overwatch closed his eyes in concentration. "The Princess is on her way," he said with a slight quiver in his voice.

Ryan studied the two of them. They were scared, that much was clear. They seemed nervous too, like he had put them on edge. It was clear that they understood how different he was. And he was reasonably sure that they didn't expect to see him make so many deductions in so quick of a time. 'The Princess is on her way'... Overwatch must have some sort of communication link with someone to be able make contact like that without a horn.

Well, hold on. If he can use that like she does, and he doesn't have a horn, then shouldn't I, theoretically, be able to do it too? Worth a shot.

But then he heard the sounds of hooves on dirt and the flapping of wings. Excited voices called out, speaking about the "thing" that "Twilight" had caught. There were six of them, at least. They were all female voices, one tomboyish, one soft, one refine, one... country? Their voices soon faded as the sound of large wings flapping greeted their ears. Ryan paused in his thoughts to see what had arrived that quieted down the ponies that had "captured" him.

A great white mare fluttered down before them. It was clear to Ryan that she was powerful, as the ponies had completely hushed up. Ryan sized her up quickly. The multi-colored mane flowing in an invisible wind, the regalia, and the sheer size difference. She was the Princess they were speaking about earlier. She said some words, but Ryan ignored them, his eyes closed. He had to figure out what he was doing, and he had to do it quickly.

He felt something. A sort of electric warmth present far down inside his body. He envisioned his hands gathering it up and bringing up from the depths of his mind. He strained mentally, struggling to grasp whatever it was that he was feeling. His face scrunched up in irritation. In some remote part of his brain he registered that the Princess had stopped speaking, but he didn't care.

He had gotten it. He felt a new presence in his mind; pure energy.

His eyes snapped open, to be greeted by the face of a very confused-looking white pony.

Then he exploded. Energy coursed through him, sending green bolts of plasma shooting off in every direction. The purple aura around him shattered, sending quickly-fading flecks of lavender everywhere. He groaned and ground his teeth together. It felt like part of his body was rebelling against him, taking control for a brief moment and using him to lash out at anything nearby. After a few more seconds of excruciating pain, the energy within him shut off, and he fell to the ground with a thud.

His senses felt dulled. He barely registered a cyan hoof flying by his face and the sounds of muffled voices echoed in his ears. With great effort, he lifted a hand onto his chest and felt around the pockets there. One of them seemed bulkier than the rest and he tugged it open. With sluggish hands he withdrew a shot of Med-X and jabbed it into his arm.

The sudden injection gave him some of his strength back. The pain throbbing throughout his body faded slightly, and his senses began to return to him, although in a more subdued fashion. When he came to completely, he noticed that the area was empty, save for one pony.

The face of the Princess loomed over him, looking down in concern. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Ryan nodded quickly, eyes flicking back and forth between the Princess' two violet eyes. His eyes then focused on the hoof looming between them. He reached up and grabbed it, then allowed himself to be pulled up. She was stronger than she looked.

"Who are you?" she asked when he was up on his feet.

"I'm The Courier," he responded simply, if not sleepily.

"Well, Courier, you have surprised me; which is something that does not happen very often these days." She spread her wings out to the sides. "What do you say the two of us have a chat, hmm?"

"So what you're saying is that I'm on a planet named Equis?"

"That is correct."

"And what universe or galaxy is this planet a part of?"

"We're just off the Horsehead Nebula."

"...Why does that not surprise me?"

"Because I'm certain that you have deduced by now that my species has quite the affinity for puns."

"Ah... Alright then."

"What about you? Where is the place you call home?"

"A planet by the name of Earth. We never learned how to use the ambient energy field like you did here. Relied on science instead."

"That sounds quite impressive."

"It is, in many ways. This device on my arm is one of the products that technological studies gave us."

"I see. What purpose does it serve?"

"Many. I primarily use it to keep track of bodily damage, log inventory, and record notes."

"Fascinating."

"And that's just the surface of what it can do. I'd love to give you a demonstration sometime of its other functions."

"I look forward to it."

"But I must say, this planet is absolutely beautiful. Never seen so much of the color green in my life."

"I'm glad you like it. So what is the state of your world then? Is it a nice place?"

"We blew it up."

"It sounds lovely-" Celestia suddenly choked on the tea she was drinking as she realized the implications of what Ryan said. A napkin was quickly enveloped in a golden aura and raised to her lips, where it dabbed frantically. She coughed once and then continued. "What do you mean?"

"About 200 years before I was born, the countries of the world launched nuclear missiles. A very large amount of nuclear missiles. Shortly put, the world burned and simmered for a good hundred years or so, then my species began to return. We, most of us, at least, had moved underground to vaults to survive. It was quite nice, I hear, despite never seeing the sun." This isn't the Wasteland, don't scare her.

An awkward silence fell over the table. The two were conversing over tea, in the same spot just outside the market of Ponyville where Ryan had been attacked. Celestia had requested a table brought out from a nearby café. The managers had protested at first, but then they saw who was asking.

"But, nuclear implies radiation, correct?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it does." He sipped his tea.

"While our communities do not rely just on the sciences, such as your planet's do, we know our way around the elements and possess a higher-than-basic understanding of nuclear physics." Celestia tried to dismiss the slightly smug look on her face.

"Of course. To answer your implied question, yes, some areas are still highly irradiated and we can't access them yet. Luckily enough, I managed to take control of an city mostly untouched by the bombs."

"I'm glad you changed the course of the conversation. Tell me about yourself, Courier."

"My parents grew up in one of the vaults that I told you about, I walked across the wastelands of a dead country, then I settled down and assumed control of the city of New Vegas."

Celestia blinked. "I... see. And how is life in this dead country? Surely nuclear warfare would have left ugly scars on the land."

Ryan smiled coldly. "It's something you could never imagine," he said.

Celestia looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she sighed. "I understand that you don't wish to speak about it. Very well. Do you mind telling me about the weapon you carry, then?"

"Alright." Ryan drew his pistol hesitantly. "This is Lucky. I'm sure if you've developed an understanding for nuclear physics then you know what a gun is."

Celestia nodded, wanting him to continue.

"This fires .357 magnum bullets from a revolving chamber. I sometimes use other types of ammunition that I make myself, but I generally stick to what's supposed to be fired from it."

"May I have a look?" she asked politely.

Ryan looked at the gun and felt over the little club in its handle. "Alright," he said after a moment. "But be careful with it."

Celestia smiled warmly at him, then the pistol was enveloped in a golden glow. It lifted into the air and hovered in front of Celestia's face. She examined it from a few angles, then set it down gently on the table between the two. Ryan reached forward to pick it up, but Celestia interrupted him with her voice.

"If I may ask a few questions before you sheath it?"

"Shoot. No joke intended."

The two shared a small smile before she continued. "You named this gun, correct? Why Lucky?"

"It seemed to fit, honestly. Especially given the way I got it, and the way it performs in combat. Had it etched on there in silver."

"I assume that most guns of this type do not share its ornate features?"

"No. The other .357 revolvers that I see have an antler handle, shorter barrel, and they don't fire as quickly. The... experiments that I have done on it and others like it gave me some strange conclusions."

"Care to share?"

"Well, as I said before, other .357 magnums don't have as high of a fire rate and the bullets don't penetrate as much when they're fired. And..." he hesitated for a moment.

"Hmm?" Celestia leaned forward expectantly.

"...I'm just luckier with this gun," he answered.

Celestia seemed unsatisfied with the answer. "Go on."

Ryan clasped his hands together. "I tend to be lucky. Just in general. Things go my way far more often than they should, and this gun only pushes that effect."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I'll demonstrate. Do you happen to have a coin?"

"There should be one beside the kettle."

"Ah." Ryan moved the kettle, nearly burning his hand, and picked up the coin. He examined it for a moment. On one side was the image of two winged unicorns circling each other around the sun and moon. He flipped it over to see a portrait of a pony. Upon closer inspection he noticed that it strongly resembled Celestia... "Oh," he said in realization. He looked up at Celestia to see her looking to the side, just as she did in the coin. Ryan had no doubt she was doing it on purpose.

"So you're on the coin?" he asked.

"That is correct," she answered.

"There is no queen, there is no king, the power stops at you?"

"Also correct."

"And you're much, much older than you look."

"Very correct, though I have to ask how you drew that conclusion," she said, slightly astonished.

"Wear on the metal of the coin. It's gold, so age takes its toll heavily. I estimate its age to be at least at 50 years." He stopped and looked at her. "So how old does that make you? And how did you retain your looks?" he asked, slightly wary due to the way the conversation had progressed.

"I have been alive for a few centuries," she answered casually.

"Alright. Goddess, I assume?" After what he had gone through to get here, he was ready to believe just about anything.

"That's what I'm told."

"What do you reign over?" he asked, then added, "With a name like that I think my guess is already correct."

"The sun. I raise and lower it at the beginning and end of each day. Just as my sister, Luna, does with the moon."

"I'm not sure if I believe that. In my galaxy, the Solar System, our planets are all heliocentric. Your planet must be absolutely massive to have a fully-formed star orbiting it."

"Well magic does work in interesting ways," she said mysteriously, doing nothing to confirm or deny Ryan's suspicions of the true nature of the star system.

"Mmm hmm." There was a pause, but Ryan suddenly exclaimed, "Oh! I forgot about the coin! Here." He passed the gold bit to her. "Can you flip that?"

"Yes, I can."

"Good, do it."

She flipped it into the air. While it spun, Ryan called out "Tails."

It landed on the wooden table with a thunk. Celestia inspected it where it fell. "Correct," she said. "But this doesn't prove much," she said.

"Toss it again," was all Ryan said. He looked off into the distance, gazing at the terrain surrounding the town.

Celestia flipped it.

"Tails."

"Correct."

She flipped it again.

"Heads."

"Correct."

"Tails."

"Correct."

"Heads."

"Correct."

"Heads."

"Correct."

Celestia flipped it a good 20 more times, Ryan getting it correct all but twice. He had slunk down to prop his head up on his wrist during the process, but Celestia seemed fascinated by his ability.

"Are you satisfied, Celestia?"

She stopped just as she flicked the coin into the air again. It hit the table and interrupted their silence. After a quick moment she regained her composure and left the bit alone. "Yes, yes of course. But I must say, how did you find out about this?"

"The Vit-O-Matic Vigor Tester. A machine designed to tell you how special you were, and that's S-P-E-C-I-A-L as an acronym, you see. It shows you where you stand on seven basic statistics on a scale of one-to-ten. When I measured it the first time, after my... accident," he reached a hand up to touch a little scar near the top of his head, "the machine burst into flames. 'S' through 'A' was all normal, you see, but the 'L;' Luck." He paused and looked directly into Celestia's eyes. "It's funny how an idea so simple can turn out to be such a huge advantage in the world. The odds are always stacked in my favor, and that makes everything too easy."

Celestia raised an eyebrow at the bold statement, made note of it. They had been talking for the better part of two hours, and she still hardly knew anything about him. "Tell me about the city you live in."

Ryan took a sip of tea, his mood snapping from dark to energetic in an instant. "New Vegas. I own and operate it, along with seeing over the various factions that settled in the surrounding area. It's part of a much larger area called the Mojave Wasteland. The previous overseer of New Vegas, a man named Mr. House, sheltered most of the city from the bombs when they fell. Then he waited for 200 years for the area to repopulate. I took over for him about seven years ago. I fixed many of the problems with the infrastructure, calmed down tensions between residents and squatters, and made many friends along the way."

"I suspect that an area like that would be much sought after? Was there no opposition?"

"I was caught in a four-way war. One side was the New California Republic. They represented those who wanted to settle the West again and rebuild from the ashes of the past world. I allied myself mostly with them. On another side were the Legion." His face scrunched up, disgusted. "Horrible people. They were of the 'holier-than-thou' mentality, and they wanted the West to conform to their ideas."

"I take it you don't like them."

"It runs deeper than that. The crimes those people committed were atrocious." He drew a breath. "I couldn't let it stand." The words hung in air with a sense of finality.

"I can't possibly imagine-"

"Then don't. Trust me."

Celestia looked slightly miffed, but motioned for him to continue anyway.

"Then on the final side was Mr. House and the city of New Vegas. I had been around the town, shaking hands and offering smiles. It was obvious that things were bad. Most of the settlers there weren't opposed to NCR settlers coming in to the city, but they didn't like the way it was done. NCR strode in like they owned the place, but they didn't. Mr. House did a fine job keeping them all in check, but he never did anything more than that, and only for a price."

"I get the sense that something big happened that allowed you to take over."

"Your sense is correct. It was a battle, you see. The Second Battle of Hoover Dam, they called it. As the name implies, it was a fight over who controlled the dam in the Mojave Wasteland. The Legion was going to use it to choke out New Vegas, and NCR wished to fight off the Legion and hopefully restore the dam." He stopped.

"But didn't you say there were four sides in this fight?"

"I did. I was the final side."

Celestia's face betrayed her surprise at the implications of his statement. "You fought not one, but three armies and survived?" she asked incredulously.

"That's partially right. I did fight, but only against the Legion. I was the wild card in the battle, you see. For all intents and purposes during that fight I was on NCR's side. I fought tooth and nail to eliminate all the Legion at the dam, then destroy their leader, Legate Lanius."

"So what happened then?"

"I played my hand. Before the fight, I had assassinated both Mr. House and the commander of the Legion, Caesar; and I allowed another assassin to kill President Kimball of the NCR. I took control of Mr. House's army of newly upgraded combat robots and had them sent to the dam. Celestia looked impressed at the tactical move he had made, destroying all three of the leaders of his enemies' forces.

"Now things are finally calming down. The Families that run the casinos have a full cooperation with me, as do the few factions that live outside the city walls. We work together now to make the Mojave Wasteland a safe place for us to live. I even have plans in place to expand the Strip, the main street of casinos in the main city, and allow people to buy housing there. I can fund it all personally at this point, so I figured 'why not?'"

"That sounds very admirable. Not at all unlike what I would try to accomplish here, ruling over Equestria. But I am still left with another question."

"And what is that?"

"How did you arrive here?"

Ryan sighed. "I met a man named Wayland. Joseph Wayland. He was a member of The Couriers, an order of package-carriers that traveled across the lands. It's something of a fact in the Wasteland that Couriers make or break civilizations. We all had received years of training to stay alive on the road, each of us with our own special area; there was about 20 of us in all. I specialized in Tactical Assessment, something that wasn't of fantastic use in a bullet-hell wasteland.

"Anyway, Wayland came to me in New Vegas, telling me that The Couriers wanted me back. It took some time, but I eventually agreed to go with him, across the wastes to California. About two-thirds of the way there, we stopped at a freshly destroyed town he called Calico. I knew something was wrong, but I waited for too long to call him on it.

"He revealed himself to be Atë, the goddess of misfortune. So, as you can guess, she tried to get rid of me. She started calling me names, apparently assumed that I was a demigod, which I am not, all because I'm lucky. We fought, she siphoned some of my Luck, I dropped a Holy Hand Grenade, and then I jumped through a portal she created. That portal dropped me down near the summit of that mountain over there," he pointed it to Celestia, "and then I walked here."

"So you were transported here by a divine being?"

"Yes, I guess."

"Does she know you are here?"

Ryan thought about it for a minute and reviewed what she said before they fought. "No," he said decidedly, "I don't think so. The way she phrased it seemed to imply that all she wanted was to 'remove me from the world.' I don't think she cared where I ended up, as long as it was far away from Earth."

"I see. That's certainly a relief." They paused, then Celestia continued. "How did you know she had drained some of your Luck?"

"The device on my arm, I suppose now is as good of a time as any to give you a demonstration, keeps track of my special statistics just like the Vigor Tester." He lifted up his Pip-Boy and hit the button to go to the Stats screen. Celestia stood and walked over next to him so she could see what he was doing. "I just have to turn this knob to go to the S.P.E.C.I.A.L tab, and-"

He froze when he saw what it said.

"Courier? Didn't you say that it gave a rating of 1-10?"

Ryan nodded slowly, eyes stuck staring ahead.

"Then why, after bragging that your Luck was so off-the-charts, does it say 9 here?"

Chapter 3: Put a Spell on You

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"Who are you kid? Really?" Benny was sitting in a stool. One of his hands was flat against the bar, the other loosely gripping the half-glass of scotch that he had been sipping at.

"Who am I?" Christopher echoed the question. He had finally managed to track down Benny at The Tops, and the two were talking in the hotel's presidential suite.

"That's what I'm asking, baby," said Benny, sipping again from his glass. Even though his worst fears had come to be realized, he didn't crack. That smooth facade, the polished mask that was Benny, did not break. He never faltered in his speech, his hands did not quiver, his eyes kept the sparkle that they always had.

Christopher was quiet. Contemplating. Before he walked into the hotel, before he woke up in Goodsprings, before he left California for the first time; he might have been able to answer that question. But now it was all so confusing. He had chased Benny across the Wasteland, never relenting, hardly stopping to rest. Before, he might have called it a thirst for revenge. Now, he wasn't sure.

"If you strip away the parts that I'm looking at here, this rugged, tough-as-nails cowboy, what do you get?" He gestured to the various parts of Christopher's leather armor, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer on the loaded magnum strapped to his hip. "What's beneath the exterior? What makes you tick? Why are you here?" His voice had grown quieter as the time progressed.

Christopher was still silent. He didn't have an answer then. He had met friends and enemies of all sorts of types while he was searching for Benny. He had gone on adventures the magnitude of which would have shocked him had he been told back in California. He learned that he was capable of so much more than what The Couriers said he could do. And he didn't know what to make of that.

Benny heaved a sigh and looked to the bottom of his glass. "The things we could have done, what we could have accomplished." He fell silent for a brief moment before continuing. "And here we are, you poised to throw it all away. New Vegas could be great without House holding it back. The man is a relic, unfit for 2281. But you still seem to want to swing with that dusty old cat, huh?" He smiled, the lines never reaching his eyes.

Christopher opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He had spent weeks planning for this moment, but words failed him. For once, he couldn't think of what to say.

"I know how this all ends. I can see it in your eyes. The same way I knew you were different from the rest of the couriers that House sent out. There was something in your eyes. Like I could see the gears turning. Of course it didn't matter at that point, I already knew you were carrying the Chip." Upon mentioning it, he pulled it out of his pocket and gently set it on the bar's counter.

"You want it. You want it back so much. It's because of your job, I guess. Never supposed to lose a package, but this one was stolen. House will understand. He knows you, just like he knows me. Too much." He put two fingers on the warm platinum and slid it over towards Chris. "Take it, and get on with it." He looked in his glass and held up a finger. "Wait just a second. There's a special rung in hell reserved for people who waste good scotch. Seeing as how I may be rapping on the door momentarily..." He downed the rest of his drink in two swift gulps, wincing as it burned a trail down his throat.

Christopher pulled out his gun slowly, with quaking hands and unsteady nerves. Hesitantly, he brought it up to aim the sights on Benny's head. "You were right about one thing, Benny."

His head turned to stare down the barrel of the pistol. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

Christopher pulled back the hammer, eliciting a soft click from the gun as it readied to fire a bullet. "House can't rule. Not anymore. He's an outdated king, and you were his last try at an ace-in-the-hole."

"Really? Then what does that make you?"

The question gave him pause once again. But this time, he had an idea of how to answer. An idea of who he truly was.

"The Wild Card."

He squeezed the trigger with much more force than was necessary. A flash lit up the darkness of his eyelids, and a sharp bang echoed in his ears long after the actual sound faded. His breathing was more forced then, heavier, just like his arms felt. The gun clattered to the floor, making contact with the wood underneath, through the padding of the carpet.

Christopher— no, that man was dead, dead like the man that slumped on the stool in front of him. The Courier opened his eyes and looked around the room, seeing them in a sort of different way. Benny's head was turned, the bullet wound not facing him. He laid on the bar table, one might even suspect he was asleep. But The Courier knew he wasn't. Benny was dead by his hand.

He picked up the Platinum Chip with numb fingers. The metal had gone cold, restoring some feeling within his deadened body. He pocketed the device, then he turned and picked up his gun. Lucky is what he would call it. Lucky that everything so far had been smooth compared to what lied ahead.

The Courier fixed his hat upon his head as he walked out of the room.

"I... I..." Ryan stammered, unable to find words.

"Courier? Are you alright?" The concerned face of Celestia leaned in the corner of his vision.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then responded to her question. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

She studied him, her magenta eyes scanning his face. "No, you are not," she finally declared.

Ryan took a quick breath, as if he was about to deny it, but then let it all out in a sigh. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back and fixing anything out of place. He looked up at her. "I just thought I was done with it all, you know? Six-and-a-half years of peace, relatively speaking, in the Mojave, and I thought it was over. But no, things just manage to keep happening to me. I have to keep running, because who knows what will happen when I stop?" His face twisted up into a small, sad smile.

"I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate. This world seems like a paradise compared to yours, what could be wrong?"

He held up his Pip-Boy, showing her the screen. "See that nine, right there?" he pointed to the number. "That was a ten when I got here." He slumped back into his chair, looking off into the distance while a hand idly rubbed at his stubbly chin.

"We- I'll do everything in my power to make sure that is righted as soon as possible. But are you sure that you aren't mistaken? And are you sure that you are not... blowing things out of proportion?"

"'Blowing things out of proportion'?" Ryan turned to her and slammed his hands on the table. "Blowing things out of fucking proportion?! My Luck is draining and you think I'm blowing things out of proportion?!" He stood up and knocked his chair over, alerting some of the guards that stood watch in a wide circle around the table. Within moments he had six spears nearly jabbing him from every direction.

He slowly reached a hand up and, using just his index finger, gently pushed away a spearhead that was almost poking him in the nose. "I suggest you remove your weapons from my face," he growled, the corners of his mouth curling down into a malicious scowl.

"Guards, stand down," Celestia said firmly. "He will not harm me." Reluctantly, the guardsponies lowered their spears and backed away to their former positions, looking a bit more wary. Celestia herself was standing as well, having assumed a fighting stance as soon as Ryan became aggressive.

"What makes you think I won't hurt you?" asked Ryan in a dark tone.

"Because you're smarter than that."

"I've fought armies. Six guards and a princess wouldn't be too difficult," he snarled.

"You're not thinking rationally. Calm down a bit, I'm your friend here," Celestia said tactically, avoiding a direct response to his previous statement.

He took a breath and sat back down. Hands flying, he picked up Lucky from the table and holstered it. Then, just as rapidly, he poured himself another cup of tea with a generous amount of sugar cubes. One of his fingers tapped a quick beat on the table. His face quickly transformed to look neutral, then he took a sip from his cup and gingerly picked up a sugar cube, examining it between his fingers.

"You know we don't have straight sugar in the Mojave? Vault 22, mostly dealt with plant life, got overrun and lost most of the crops. Including all the sugarcane. Can't find seeds for the stuff anywhere now, not even at Big Mountain, the most technologically-advanced place in the wastes. I've synthesized it a couple of times, but it just doesn't seem natural. I remember the first time I had sugar. Poked through a half-destroyed farmstead and found a pack of the stuff in a cellar. Best thing I ever tasted." He looked away and popped the sugar cube into his mouth, letting it melt on his tongue.

Gone was the attitude, the tone, the darkness. His mood pulled a complete turnaround; his personality had morphed back into the same energetic one that Celestia had met with earlier that day. He looked content, like he was just satisfied to be there. But his eyes, they retained what she saw before. She could see the darkness deep inside of him. She could tell that there was a storm locked away in his mind, waiting to break free like it just had. He was a conundrum, and she wasn't quite sure how to behave around him now.

"Hmm," Celestia hummed, retaining her fighting position, though her horn was no longer glowing.

Ryan's eyes flicked back to her. "What are you doing standing up? Sit, sit. I'm not going to bite or anything." He flashed her a smile, and she could see his canines exposed just beneath his lips.

She did as he said, pulling her chair back up and sitting in it cautiously. She took stock of the table in front of her and began refilling her cup. Her magic stayed strong, but she was shaken, to say the least. A new tension hung between the two, and Celestia wondered how long it would take before it dissipated.

Ryan giggled a bit. "I've always wanted to say that. It just sounds so cliché, saying I won't bite then flashing my sharp teeth. Makes me seem like a proper comic book villain." He drained his cup. "How's that for a topic of conversation? Villains. I trust that this planet's not just all rainbows and sunshine?"

Celestia took a breath to fix her composure, then answered, choosing not to comment on his earlier actions. "It isn't. There has been some recent events that had their fair share of villains."

"Oh?" Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Do tell, then."

"The most recent was the reappearance of the Crystal Empire and the attack of King Sombra. Before that was the invasion of Changelings on Canterlot. Some time before that was the escape of the Avatar of Chaos, Discord. Then, a good while before that happened, Nightmare Moon broke free of her bonds to attempt to push the world into eternal night. Which one would you like to hear about?"

"Hmm... Discord sounds fun." Ryan set down his tea to listen more intently as Celestia explained Discord's escape, how he turned the Elements against each other, and then was ultimately turned to stone again. She finished off by telling him that he was reformed and currently living at the palace. He didn't speak besides asking a few questions pertaining to the Elements of Harmony. Soon enough, Celestia was finished.

"Am I correct in assuming that these Elements are the main driving force behind this country? And that they, the Elements themselves, were once under your control?" he asked when she became quiet.

"Pardon?" Celestia looked at him with wide eyes. "What would give you that idea?"

"The way you spoke about them. You respect the power that they wield, even more so because you know them personally. But as you talked of their actions and the personalities of each, I could tell that you understand them on a deeper level. Perhaps because you have wielded the power before yourself, but in a terrible way, something that scarred you deeply. Because you are old, Celestia, far, far older than you let on." Ryan leaned back, palms pressed together and resting underneath his chin.

"I..." Celestia blinked, stunned at his statements. She closed her eyes and blew out a breath. "Am I that readable?" she asked with a small smile.

"Lucky guess," was Ryan's cooled reply. "But before we continue talking, may I meet these Elements formally? I fear my last encounter with them didn't roll over so well."

"Of course, of course," she said, getting up. "We should return this table to the café first. I'm sure they're missing it." Her horn lit up in a golden shimmer, as did the table.

"Uh, hold on a moment, Celestia," Ryan said, holding up a hand.

The glow on the table dissipated, as did the one on Celestia's horn. Instead of replying, she looked at him questioningly.

"May I try?" he asked. "I realize that this is a new world, and new rules do apply, but I have had luck in the past with trying new things. And I'm sure after what happened earlier, you're just as curious as I am to see another 'show.'"

"By all means, Courier. And you are correct, I do wish to see if you can repeat your earlier actions." Celestia walked over beside him to observe.

"Thank you." And with those words, he closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching within himself to find the flame from before. To his surprise, it came easier than before. He held up his hand and it encased in a green glow. He opened his eyes again to see that the aura had lost some of its hue, taking on a more faded aspect than before. Shrugging, he focused his energy on the table in front of him.

His mind strained as he pulled. The various plates and silverware on the table began to shake and rattle, causing a bit of a racket that attracted the attention of the guards around him. He closed his hand and tried to will the table to move up. Nothing happened, besides the table ceasing in its movement.

Celestia and the guards released a pent-up breath that they didn't realize they were holding. A frown eased its way onto Ryan's face as beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He gritted his teeth and strained harder.

"Courier, it doesn't appear to be working, perhaps you should just let me-"

She was interrupted by the lid of the teapot suddenly blowing upward and spraying tea into the sky. Those gathered there simply stood in shock as the lukewarm liquid cascaded down around them like a summer rain. There was a brief, tense moment of silence, then Ryan erupted.

"Yeah-ha! I knew I could get something to work!" He jumped in the air and punched a fist up, only to be stopped short by the look on the face of a damp Celestia.

They stood stock still, Celestia's face somewhere between an annoyed glare and a neutral stare. Then, slowly, the corners turned upward into a small smile. She rolled her eyes and lit up her horn. In a bright flash, the present company was dried of all tea that may have fallen on them. "Better than my first attempt," she said, eliciting a chuckle from Ryan.

"This way, right?" he asked pointing towards the center of town.

Celestia nodded, studying his face in the brief moment before he turned around. She picked up the table and chairs and returned them to the café she had borrowed them from. She absently thanked the manager and waved off his assurances that the table would always be ready for her use in the future.

Her mind was on the human. The Courier, as he called himself. She couldn't get a reading on him, or his personality. She wondered how he was able to keep up that mask he always wore, keep the chains tight on the storm raging inside of his mind. He was brilliant, that much was clear to her, perhaps more brilliant than Starswirl or Twilight. No, she was sure of it, his mind was greater than the two of them. He wasn't proficient just in intelligence pertaining to knowledge, but he was able to make stunning assessments at a rate that would frighten Sherclop Holmes himself.

But it was the facadé that fascinated her. It was evident that he worked extremely hard to keep up that side of his personality. He worked so hard that it made her wonder what exactly caused the storm to begin raging underneath.

Ryan's head bobbed happily along with a song that only he could hear. His eyes were wide with wonder from seeing the buildings of all shapes and colors. There were only a few ponies left wandering around the town. Some gave him odd looks, but their eyes didn't linger when they noticed Celestia and the regiment of guards that surrounded him. More than once, Ryan was able to make out clipped whispers from ponies milling around the group, but he didn't let it bother him.

Soon enough, they arrived a massive crystal tree, the Friendship Castle, according to the sign in front of the impossible structure. Ryan could only gawk at the impossible feat before him. He shot a questioning look to Celestia, who only grinned mischievously and said only, "Magic."

Ryan walked up to open the door, but stopped when he heard familiar voices inside. His eyes flicked to his Pip-Boy's compass and took note of the multiple white bars in front of him. Deciding it wasn't the best idea for him to enter first, he took a step backward, luckily just missing the hooves of one of the guards behind him. Celestia took his previous place and knocked a gold-clad hoof on the rather large door, hushing the voices behind the entrance.

The door cracked open, revealing part of a hallway, but Ryan couldn't see anybody there. "Ah, Spike. Is Twilight there? I'd like to introduce her to our guest," Celestia said to the seemingly empty space.

Ryan was confused. He checked his Pip-Boy to see if something was actually there. "Sure, Princess. She's in the main room with the rest of the girls." The door opened all the way to reveal a hallway leading to a very large library, with books filling up every wall.

Then Celestia started to move inside and Ryan saw who, or what, had answered the door. It looked like a purple gecko with green scales on its underbelly and spikes of the same color sticking out the top of his head. Upon noticing Ryan, his eyes shrunk quickly and his knees began shaking. Ryan, for his part, simply tilted his head sideways in confusion.

Ryan got over it quickly and lowered himself so his knees were completely bent and he balanced on the balls of his feet. Ignoring the three guards that were glaring at his back, he removed his sunglasses and looked at the creature in front of him. "And just what are you? Bipedal, sentient, but with claws for hands and scales for skin. You're not a gecko, that's for sure, but you're definitely related. Celestia did mention something about..." He snapped his fingers. "Dragons. You're a dragon, right?"

Spike nodded, terrified.

"Baby dragon, at that. If the myths where I'm from are correct, you're gonna grow up to be twenty times that size, and significantly less adorable. A big, fearsome, fire-breathing dragon." Ryan spoke with a soft voice. He was intuitive like that, possessing a gift when it came to speaking. Tuning in to the hopes of the child in front of him wasn't too difficult for him.

Spike's eyes gleamed as he listened to Ryan's words. He momentarily forgot about who he was talking to and puffed up his chest while striking a gallant pose. "I'll be the best dragon! The most fierce and fiery dragon ponykind has ever seen!" Having calmed down, he took another look at Ryan. "Who are you? What are you?" he asked in awe as he took in the man's clothing.

"The name's Smith." He stuck out a hand for a shake. "Betcha haven't gotten one of these in a while?" He grinned, wiggling his fingers. Spike grasped the hand with a significantly smaller claw and gave it a little shake. "As for what I am, I'm called a human. From the planet 'Earth,' about 2,000 light-years," he jerked a thumb behind his head, "that way. What's your name?"

His eyes grew large with awe. "My name's Spike. That's really far away, too. Twilight's been teaching me a little bit about space. What's it like out there?" he asked.

Ryan thought about it for a moment before answering. "It's very dark. You can barely see the light of billions of stars far off in the distance, and you can't hear anything either; no sound. There's also no air, so no breathing as well. Space is, well, fascinating, even though I've never been there myself."

Spike's head tilted. "Then how did you get here?" he asked.

"That's what I'm trying to find out, little man." And with that, he stood up, much to the relief of the guards behind him, ruffled the surprisingly flexible spines on Spike's head, and walked into the library.

"...completely harmless, so I don't want any of you thinking that he'll hurt you. What happened earlier was just a misunderstanding." Celestia was speaking to the ponies gathered in the library. The six gathered made an odd bunch, each one a different primary color, with their mane a different but similar shade of that color. "This, my little ponies, is The Courier," she said when she noticed him walk in, Spike directly behind him.

Suspicious stares were all he received. He took in the scene before him; each pony was gathered in the main room of the library, or at least what he assumed to be the main room. One of them, a pegasus, was keeping herself aloft above the rest. His mind raced, taking in each of them and the looks plastered on their face. He could practically feel the varied emotions dripping off of them. They were curious above all else, their eyes widened to be extremely large. But he could sense the distrust screaming from the narrowed brows of a few, showing that he wasn't completely safe. A mixture of awe and fear lingered in the backs of their eyes, just enough to be noticeable. If these were the "almighty" Elements of Harmony, then he would require more to be impressed.

"As Celestia said, I am The Courier. Hello." He waved a hand in a semi-circle casually, but said nothing more. Letting them carry the conversation would be the best course of action.

When the ponies realized he wasn't going to say anything else, they shot questioning glances to each other, full of suspicion. "What's your real name?" asked the lavender one as she stepped forward boldly.

This one's brave, Ryan noted quickly before responding. "What's your real name?" he asked back with the corners of his mouth upturned.

"What? But that's what I asked you!" she spluttered before regaining ground from her momentary slip. "I- I asked you first," she said as boldly as her step forward.

"Yes, yes you did, but I'm exercising my right to withhold my answer for the time being."

Twilight cocked her head to the side, clearly confused. "Twilight Sparkle. What's yours?"

"He said his name was Smith," Spike piped up from the side of the room.

Ryan turned his head and smiled at the baby dragon. "I did say that. Doesn't mean it's true, but if you're fixated on calling me by a name, then there it is."

"Why won't you give us your actual name?"

The question gave him pause. Why not indeed? He thought about it for a moment before answering. "Because to have a name is to know somebody. To know somebody means you have gained an understanding for who they are. None of you have the slightest idea who I am, including Celestia over here, who has just spent the better part of three hours talking with me." He looked over at the Princess, who was having a difficult time keeping a straight face. "Sorry," he added on.

She just shook her head. "It's alright. It's true though, I haven't the slightest clue who you are." She made the snap decision to not let on that she had already formed several conclusions about the unstable man.

"Anyhow, when, or if, you develop an understanding of who I am, not just what I am, then you shall receive my name," he said, knowing full well that that day will never come. He carefully judged the varying degrees of contempt on each of their faces, taking note of the especially severe look on the pegasus in the air. "If you think my actions are bold, keep in mind that we've only just met, and where I'm from we don't typically trust people until we've known them for years." He spoke that part almost directly to the hovering one, and he was satisfied to see her angry glare shatter into a million pieces.

"What do you mean? How can you be friends if you don't trust them until years?" asked the other pegasus in the room, quite quietly.

"Well, 'years' was a bit of an exaggeration. It's more like a few months if there's no fighting involved, otherwise a few weeks. But then it's an alliance at best. A partnership if you're lucky, which I am." His voice drifted off at the last sentence as his mind drifted off to thoughts of Boone and their first meeting.

"Fighting?" A voice interrupted his dive into the past. He looked at the pony who had spoken, the white unicorn.

"Yes, fighting. My world isn't exactly like yours," he answered, but didn't volunteer forward any more information.

A thick silence pervaded the room. The two parties each formulated their thoughts, accumulated their questions, and summarized their observations. Ryan could see the gears turning in their minds as they each formed their own opinions of him. It was like a great chess game. He would make his moves, put forth his pieces, then sit back and watch as the other side thought about what to do next.

"But come on! You're all too serious! I'm an alien, a real life alien standing right in front of you! And I know some of you are just burning up on the inside with questions! Let's hear 'em!"

The ponies and dragon jumped at his sudden, loud outburst. Their ears splayed back and their hooves danced nervously.

"Well don't just stand there, I'm not going to attack you or anything," he said, pulling up a chair from the side of the room. "Go on, ask a few questions, test my knowledge." He held his arms open and watched as they began voicing their questions.

"What planet are you from?"

"Earth, next."

"What species are you?"

"Human, next."

"When did'ja get here?"

"About a day ago, next."

"Can I try on your aviators?"

"Sure, next- wait, what?"

The rainbow one nodded her head in earnest.

"Oh, fine."

She zoomed over and picked them up from his outstretched hand before trying them on to see that they didn't fit her face. They slipped off her muzzle and fell to the floor. Reacting quickly, Ryan's foot shot out and caught the shades before the lens broke on the floor. "Hey now, I've had those for years now, don't go breaking them," he said teasingly.

"Where did you get those reflexes?" asked the white unicorn as Ryan brought his foot up to his hand to pick up the glasses.

"Experience and luck, next." But before they could ask another one of their twenty-questions, he held up a hand. "Ooh, wait, hold on just one second. Can I have your names? It's getting a little tiring to think of each of you as 'rainbow pegasus' or 'orange pony.'"

"Ah'm tangerine, thank you," came the quick reply of said orange pony.

"Alright, Tangerine, nice to meet you." Ryan started to move on to the next pony but was stopped by her.

"Mah name's not Tangerine, it's Applejack," she said through gritted teeth.

"Whoops, my bad. Applejack, got it," Ryan said before moving pointing at the next pony in line.

"As I said before, Twilight Sparkle. But please just call me Twilight."

"Rainbow Dash. Just call me awesome and we'll be good, kay?"

Ryan chuckled but kept moving.

"Rarity, darling."

"I'm Pinkie Pie, and this is Fluttershy!"

"Great! Excellent to meet you all! Now, moving on!" He clapped his hands together sharply. "Any more questions?"

"Where's all your fur?"

"Humans don't have fur, next."

"What is that horrible thing you're wearing?"

"Horrible? Ma'am, this is my 'uniform,'" he made air quotes with the word. "It's the epitome of multi-use clothing where I'm from. Only 21 like it in the whole world. Probably less now..." he mumbled the last bit, but Celestia managed to hear it.

"If only I could design your uniform! It wouldn't be so terribly garish! Just look at the torn sleeves, the hole-filled shirt, the faded pants! And where's the hat! You simply must have a hat!" Rarity cried.

"Those are just natural from wear and tear. As for the hat, I did have one, but I lost it on the way over here."

"Speaking of that," interrupted Twilight, "How did you get here? And how were you using magic like that earlier today?"

"Long story short, I ended up fighting the goddess Atë because she was pissed at me for being too lucky, then I escaped through what I guess was a portal to land here. Well, more specifically, somewhere near the summit of the mountains over... that way," he looked around the room quickly and pointed out a window as he spoke the words.

"The Foal Mountains?" supplied Twilight.

"Foal Mountains? Oh, heh. Horse puns." He chuckled, prompting some strange looks from those gathered, aside from Celestia. "But yes, I landed there yesterday and then walked here."

"But that doesn't answer my other question. How could you use magic like that? I've never seen anything besides a unicorn use magic."

"Oh, that? I learned it when I saw you doing it," he said. Of course, that was a vastly simplified version of it; but, judging by the looks on their faces, that was quite an impressive accomplishment.

"What do you mean, you just learned it? That's not even possible! A creature appearing on Equestria and learning how to use magic in just one day! That's so impossible I can't even—"

"Twilight, calm down," interrupted the voice of Celestia. "Allow him to explain before you jump to conclusions like that. Or, better yet, ask him how he did it."

Twilight's head dropped low. "Sorry, Princess."

"And don't call me Princess anymore. It's just Celestia now, Princess Twilight," Celestia responded with a small smile.

Twilight's head snapped back up, a sheepish grin present on her face. "Sorry. Old habits die hard, right?" She turned her attention back to Ryan. "So, as I was saying, how did you just do magic like that?"

Ryan, having been given time to consider his response, answered right away. "I'm not sure if you remember, but I did ramble about it a bit when you caught me. I just analyzed the field that you picked me up in, and I drew a few conclusions. It wasn't anything like I had seen on my world before, so I compared it to what I know about this world. After that I just came to the conclusion that the planet had an ambient energy field, so I pulled at it, in the way that seemed right to me. And you know what happened next. But magic, huh? That's an interesting name for it," he mused.

"So you don't have magic where you come from?" Rarity cut in.

"No, not unless you count the gamma radiation." He laughed, but Twilight seemed to seriously consider it for a moment. After a few seconds her face returned to normal as she dismissed the thought.

"But it still doesn't add up. It usually takes weeks or months, sometimes years, for unicorns to grasp a bit of their magic. How was it that you got it in a matter of minutes?"

"Lucky, I guess." He shot a smile to the ponies, who looked at him a bit uneasily. The information that he figured out magic so quickly upset them, he guessed. According to Twilight, what he did wasn't natural, even on their world. He was well on his way to making friends with them, but he would have to cut back on making quick analyses if he didn't want to freak them out too much. Besides, the less they knew about him, the better.

"Smith, what is that stylish item on your side? I love the design on it," said Rarity, changing the subject during the lull of silence in the room.

"This," he unholstered his pistol, "is Lucky. We've been through a lot together," Ryan answered, looking down at the weapon.

"That's nice, but I think she meant 'what is it?'" Rainbow cut in.

"Hmm?" Ryan looked back up. "It's a .357 caliber magnum with a heavy duty revolving cylinder and long barrel. Like I said, we've seen a lot of action." The response had a practiced air to it, as if he had rehearsed it in front of a mirror in the past. His fingers brushed over the club lovingly as he returned it back to his hip.

Applejack looked out the window at the sun, just beginning to set. "How long do ya plan on stayin' around these parts? Have ya got someplace to sleep?"

"Well, I never planned on coming here in the first place, so I'd like to leave as soon as I find a way out of here." He took a look at the looks of slight indignation from each of them before adding, "not that it's because of you or anything, it's just that I don't belong here. It's not my place. As for a place to sleep, I'll just set up camp outside town like I did last night."

"Ya'll could stay at my place if ya want. We have room to spare," Applejack offered.

"Actually, I think it would be the best if Smith returned to the castle with me," Celestia said. Upon receiving the looks of all present she continued. "He is the first of his kind to establish contact with Equestria, and Equis for that matter, and so he will be treated like a diplomat, because he is one." She turned to look at him. "How does a room at the castle sound?" she asked.

"That sounds very nice, thank you." Ryan smiled.

"Besides, Luna will want to meet with you. She's always had a thing for other species..." she trailed off suggestively, prompting Ryan's cheeks to tinge slightly pink while most of the ponies turned red as tomatoes. Spike looked around confusedly, Rainbow Dash crashed to the ground in laughter, and Pinkie giggled alongside her.

"Shall we go?" Celestia unfurled a wing, signaling a guard to open the door to the library.

"Yes, right, right," Ryan said to her before turning to the six ponies and dragon. "It's been nice meeting you all, Elements. Hopefully I'll be able to drop by sometime and say hello again. I guess it all depends. Anyway," he straightened out his jacket and put his sunglasses in an inside pocket by his chest, "I'll see you later." He put two fingers to his head in a little salute as he turned and walked out of the library.

"So why did you choose Smith? I trust that there is some sort of deeper reason for it," asked Celestia. The two were in her famous golden chariot, soaring through the night sky. Ryan had doubted the safety of such aircraft, but Celestia managed to convince him that nothing bad would happen.

"I once met a man with a wooden leg named Smith..." Ryan trailed off. He was staring off into the distance, towards the lights of Manehattan.

"Really? What was the name of his other leg?" The words were out of her mouth before she could even consider giving them utterance. Something about him just seemed so disarming. Even though she believed she overstepped a line, she had a difficult time suppressing light giggles.

"...I'm pretty sure raiders ate him." Ryan continued in a frown, before Celestia had a chance to speak again.

Celestia froze, mortified. "I'm- I'm so sorry, I didn't realize-"

"-but he was a nice guy, so I figured I'd borrow his name while I'm here," Ryan finally finished his statement with a neutral face.

Minutes passed in silence as Celestia gathered her thoughts. "So you definitely will not tell us your name?" she asked.

Ryan considered his answer for a moment before voicing it. "Depends. Some life-changing event may occur while I'm at Canterlot; something completely unprecedented that will shake the very foundations of your country, cause me to have multiple emotional epiphanies, and ultimately lead us to understand in each other in a way that neither of us would have ever foreseen. Or, alternatively, we'll find a way to send me back home right away and nothing eventful will happen at all. Who knows?" he shrugged.

Celestia couldn't think of a way to respond, so she kept silent. Minutes passed, and Ryan's face began to brighten from the lights of Canterlot.

"You have a beautiful capital. It's really quite impressive. Reminds me of New Vegas," Ryan noted.

"Thank you," Celestia responded. "I don't recall ever telling you that it was the capital though, how did you know?"

"Apparent population size, urban setting, strategic location. Well, those and the fact that you live in a massive castle there. That was kind of a dead giveaway," Ryan replied without missing a beat.

"I should have expected such an answer."

There was a lull in the conversation. "Smith?" Celestia started.

"Yes?"

"If I'm correct, your... lands are a bit rough. Where did you learn to speak so eloquently?"

"Actually, this isn't how I usually speak," he began to explain. "I learned early on in my journeys that speaking is an incredibly important skill to have. Knowing what to say, and how to say it, in given situations can save you from death. So I picked up a lot from reading, and then more from observing the people around me. Eventually, I went to a hotel and casino on the Strip called the Ultra-Luxe. Nice group of fancy people, once you get past the cannibalism." he took a look at Celestia's face and steered away from that topic of conversation.

"But I digress. I dressed up in my fanciest suit and went there to chat. I spent a good few days hovering around the place, picking up on how subtly the bartenders and waiters influence their conversations with the customers. From there I just got good at doing it by speaking with traders and the like." He stopped for a moment and drew in a breath.

"As for knowing how to speak, just call it intuition. It's not too difficult to determine whether a given person, or pony in this case, would appreciate a tone of voice like this," he gestured for emphasis, "Or somthin' more like this," he drawled in a completely different, gruffer voice. "I took you for the former," he added.

"So then how do you usually speak?" Celestia asked. "You said just a minute ago that you don't usually speak like this."

"I usually talk something like this," he started in a casual tone. "Something friendly and calming, with a few grammar mistakes to make sure I don't sound too huffy-puffy." He cleared his throat. "Most of the people in the Mojave are a bit rugged, and they don't like it when someone sounds smarter than they do."

Silence reigned between the two again. The only noise was the gently rushing of the wind as they flew through the twilight sky. Celestia still had one question on her mind though, something that had been bugging her when she heard him talking in the library.

"I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries by asking this," she began carefully, "but you said that there was only 21 jackets like the one you're wearing. Do you belong to some sort of order?"

Ryan turned to face her. "That's very observant of you, Celestia. To answer your question, I used to belong to an order." He stopped there, unsure of how to proceed.

"Would you tell me a little about it?" asked Celestia quietly.

He considered it for a moment, hand to a chin in thought. "Yes," he said finally, if a bit reluctantly. "Out in the Wasteland, as I said earlier today, couriers make or break towns. We're the supply line, the forerunners of the new nation. The roads we carve into the ground last for generations. But, about 120 or so years ago, a small group of men decided that simply carrying packages wasn't enough.

"From there, The Couriers were born. We were a package-delivering organization on the surface, but there was so much more to us than that. Each of us, the elite 21, were trained in specific areas that we tested into before joining up. Our job was not just to deliver stuff, but also to act as a militia, able to defend settlements in a pinch, should the need arise. I was number 21 when I joined up, and I tested into Tactical Assessment. My job was to plan and coordinate trading routes, as well as organize attacks on raider camps. Of course, I also did run packages, but not very often.

"It was a bit lonely, sometimes. Just walking the lonesome road. Since there were so few of us, we had to disperse ourselves carefully so we could keep law across as much of the Wasteland as we could. It was an impossible task, but we performed well." Ryan chuckled.

"It sounds like you enjoyed your time with them, what happened?" Celestia asked.

Ryan's eyes narrowed at her, though she couldn't see it in the dark. But she was, however, able to pick up the sudden acidic tone of his voice. "What happened was The Divide, a package delivery gone wrong. Now it's just a massive scar, both on the land and in my mind."

When it was clear he wouldn't continue, Celestia spoke again. "I'm sorry I asked," she said simply, hoping he wouldn't go off on another tangent.

"It's alright. You wouldn't have known. You couldn't have known." His voice had grown quiet, to the point where Celestia had to lean in to hear him. "But, as I said, it's nothing but a scar now. I've come to terms with my past, and it doesn't affect me anymore."

But he was lying. He was lying through clenched teeth, and he hoped that Celestia didn't see it. He knew, deep down, that the past would just keep bubbling up, the same way it did earlier that day. But he was justified in his response. His Luck was all that he cared about, the only thing that kept him alive through disaster after disaster. He meant every word that he said to her, it just came out loud and angry. He was fine, wasn't he?

The two were quiet for the rest of the ride.

"Here is where you will be staying. The room contains an extra large bed, designed for visiting minotaurs, so it should be quite big enough for you. There is an adjoining bathroom with a tub and shower, and, because you don't seem to be carrying any with you, the basic necessities; toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, et cetera." Celestia opened the door to the room with a golden glow, and the lights flicked on upon their entry.

Ryan looked around with wide eyes and a massive smile on his face. "It's beautiful. The facilities at the Lucky 38 aren't even close to this, and that's top-of-the-line back home." He turned to her. "Thank you. It means a lot to me that you'd let me stay here."

"Think nothing of it. As I said, you are a diplomat representing your planet, and diplomats are given very special treatment." She smiled kindly and turned to walk out. But, before she passed over the threshold, she turned her neck around to say one last thing. "Oh, and Smith? Discord will probably be over to say hello. He'll probably take a great interest in you."

Ryan was busy admiring the towels on the racks in the bathroom, going so far as to rub his face up against one. "Hmm? Oh, right, right. Good night!" he called to her distractedly.

He heard the door shut and sighed. It really is nice here. Really, really nice. I almost wish I could stay longer, but I've got to make a plan to get back at Atë. I remember her saying something about-

"Well what do we have here?" said a voice from above him.

Ryan had his gun out and a bullet in the ceiling before Discord could even blink. Lucky for him, Ryan had angled his hand so the projectile whizzed directly between the draconequus' mismatched horns.

"Geez, Jumpy, I didn't mean to scare you. Almost took off an antler with that shot." Discord said while rubbing the aforementioned antler. His head had been sticking through the ceiling, upside down.

"Discord," was all Ryan said as he holstered Lucky. He checked his Pip-Boy's compass and was slightly surprised to see that the draconequus' marker was shaped like its head, not the familiar tick mark like he was used to. He dismissed it, remembering what Celestia had told him about the "Lord of Chaos."

"And just who are you? Not from Equestria I'm certain; not from this planet either! That's impressive!" Discord clapped his paws together in mock applause.

"Smith. Anything else? Because I'd really like to get to sleep," Ryan said while walking away, irritated slightly.

"Smith? No that's not right. I'd have you pegged for a Christopher."

Ryan froze. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind at once, but he forced them to calm down, just as he did by taking a deep breath. "No, that's not my name, it's Ryan," he said as casually as he could manage, which wasn't very well.

Discord smiled, knowing he struck a nerve. "Ryan? Strange name."

Ryan turned around stiffly, giving Discord a glare that would have caused the most bloodthirsty of raiders to melt into a puddle. "I don't care to know why you're here, but stop. Just don't continue," he said with poorly contained anger.

"Alright Smith, whatever you want. But I must say, you are fascinating! I've never seen anything like you, and I've seen a lot, let me tell you."

"I'm a human. Homo sapien. There you go, leave me alone," Ryan said frigidly.

"That's not what I meant. You're obviously human, but what about what's inside your head?" he coiled around Ryan and tapped at his head a few times. "I can practically feel the chaos swirling around in there. I'm surprised you're still alive, actually."

"What do you mean?" Ryan said with gritted teeth. "You know what? I don't care. Just leave my room before I call Celestia."

"Alright spoilsport, I'll go. But before I leave, hear this." Once he was sure he had Ryan's attention, he began.

"There's more than one face that does the thinking - two to the skull, one gets up, one rests behind. Odds are always against you... but they've always just been numbers. You've been playing the hand you've been dealt, but you've never let it rest; you shuffle and stack, double down and never stay. You're the Man of Two Faces, within, without, but never between or betwixt. Followed by fate and marked by the clover, the lonely road is your doom, as true rest shall never reach you while you walk away from it, forever alone."

A noise like a bell rang in Ryan's ears, and he staggered backward. It sounded just like his Forecast, but different this time. The words resounded within him, echoing deep in his bones. He staggered backward and put a hand on the nightstand behind him.

"Good night, Courier," Discord said with a devious smile.

Chapter 4: Don't Shoot the Messenger

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Ryan woke from his dream with a start. He relaxed his tense muscles and let out a shaky breath. He didn't have nightmares anymore, not like the years before, but every now and then he would get a couple of snippets of his bad days in the Mojave. The one he just had the pleasure of reliving was the time he got into a small-ish bar fight in the Atomic Wrangler. James and Francine were good acquaintances of his at the time though, so he was banned for only a week.

He sat up in bed to reach a hand up and smooth back his hair. He looked over to see his authority glasses sitting on the nightstand and his uniform hanging on the wall beside it. He swung himself out of the bed and walked over to lay a hand on the garment.

With a blank face and a shake of his head, he tugged the duster off the wall and shrugged it on. He walked back to the bed and felt around the underside of the pillow he had laid his head on. His hand brushed warm metal and he pulled out Lucky from beneath the folds of fabric. It had been a while since he felt it necessary to keep a gun with him while sleeping, but after last night's "episode," he didn't want to take chances.

He opened the door to his room to be greeted by the neutral face of a guard pony. "The Princesses would like to invite you to breakfast. If you would just follow me...?" He took a step back and held his hoof out to the right. Shrugging, Ryan set off walking. The guard trotted a step or two in front of him and lead the way.

After moving through a labyrinthine set of hallways and corridors, the two arrived at a door. Ryan could hear muffled giggles coming through the thick wood. The guard put a hoof on the door to shove it open, letting Ryan into a large room. Most of the space was occupied by an almost comically long dining table that currently sat two ponies at one end.

Upon seeing Ryan enter, Celestia and Luna calmed down quickly and suppressed whatever remaining giggles they had caught in their throats. Clearing her's, Celestia called to Ryan. "So glad to see you're awake! Come join us!" She beckoned him with a gold-clad hoof. She continued to speak as he got closer. "I was just telling Luna here about the little 'accident' you had with the teapot yesterday." She grinned at the dark blue pony. "She says it reminds her of when she was learning how to use magic."

"We all have to start somewhere, right?" Ryan joked, even though he had hardly any idea if that was true with magic.

"Yes, that is very true. Though I believe that your start was a bit more extravagant than mine." Luna offered a small smile. "Oh!" she said, as if suddenly realizing something. "We have not yet been formally introduced." She stood from the table and walked around to where Ryan was sitting. "I am Princess Luna of Equestria, Mistress of the Moon, Mare of the Night." She offered her hoof up for Ryan.

Reacting quickly, and recalling what he knew about chivalry, he delicately took her hoof in his hand and gave it a gentle kiss. Luna giggled, her face turning slightly red, as Ryan smiled on. Your sister told me you have an... interest in other species. I do suspect that she was correct."

Luna's face turned a much darker shade of red and she glared at Celestia, who was trying hard to not to laugh. "I-" she coughed once, trying to get words together, "I find species other than ponykind to be fascinating, that is all." She turned around and walked back to her seat with as much dignity as she could muster at that point, which wasn't too much.

"But now that you're here we can get down to—hold on, what would you like for breakfast?" Celestia asked politely, beckoning a member of the castle staff out with one hoof.

"Eggs, scrambled, and an apple, please," he said to the waiter as he retreated towards the kitchen. He had to give the pony credit, he kept a pretty straight face upon seeing him for the first time.

"Now we may get down to business." Celestia placed both her hooves on the table and leaned in. "What can you tell me about the one who sent you here. Atë, I believe it was?"

Ryan considered the question for the moment before answering. "There's not much to say. She was disguised as a man named Joseph Wayland, who led me to believe he was a member of the Couriers," he said the words with a bit of bite, "and when we reached a destroyed town, he transformed into Atë."

"What about the power she used? Anything pertaining to that?" Luna asked.

"She caused a bolt of lightning to crash down, and I'm assuming she's the reason why storm clouds moved into the area after we arrived. She summoned the portal that landed me here, and used some sort of 'spell,' I suppose, to drain my Luck. And it still is affecting me." He paused for a moment, then interrupted the princesses with his next words. "Which is why I'd like to find a solution to track her down as soon as possible, then get back to my world. I don't want to know what happens when my Luck hits zero."

The princesses' brows furrowed, each deep in thought. While they were considering their next words, the staff member from earlier walked in with a tray holding a plate of eggs, an apple, and a glass of water. Ryan thanked him with a nod, then began to eat slowly.

"This is a strange predicament we find ourselves in, Courier," opened Celestia, "We have not had to deal with... extraterrestrial lifeforms on this planet for many, many years." She took a breath. "And never one that was friendly," she added darkly. "So I find it in our best interest to help you find a way home, and give you aid in defeating Atë to reclaim your Luck. Based on what you told us of her power, we estimate that she is somewhat weak, for a goddess, but she will grow stronger in time. We will give you aid where we can, but understand that we can only go so far with that, as we do not wish to start a war amongst divine beings."

"I understand completely, and I thank you for your help. I can only imagine being in your situation right now, and I would probably have killed me already if I were in your place." The princesses did a good job keeping a neutral face at Ryan's frankness. "And I do hope we can get this resolved as quickly as possibly. I do not wish to stay here just as you do not wish me to stay here."

"I don't recall saying—"

"It was clearly implied. Though I understand that you bear no ill will towards me, you don't want me on your planet. It's very obvious that I don't... fit in around here." Ryan leaned back in his chair, finished with the conversation.

"I—alright," Celestia started, wanting to state the negative, but found that she couldn't. He was correct, even if he was blunt, that she had no desire to invite him into Equestria. He was a creature of war, and as such had no place in a peaceful country on a peaceful planet. Besides, given how he acted when they talked the other day, she figured he was most akin to a ticking time-bomb. She just had no idea when he would explode. "Luna? How is the War Room?"

The Princess of the Night startled from her musings. "Our engineers finished renovating it late last night. We can move there if you wish."

"Sounds like a good idea. Courier, could you follow us?"

Ryan looked up from his empty glass at the magenta eyes of Celestia. "The War Room?" he asked warily.

"We shall be able to speak there uninterrupted and unheard by others. Not to mention it now possesses the most advanced technologies Equestria has thus far invented."

"Lead the way," he said standing up.

The princesses led him through a maze of twists and turns through archaic stone passageways and corridors, then finally up an exceptionally large spiral staircase. Celestia opened a very heavy-looking wooden door with her hoof and let the group in. Ryan took a look around, noting the strangely-familiar computers and equipment lining the walls and the map in the center of the rooms. Everything sparkled like it was brand-new, and sunlight streamed in through the polished windows, lighting up the room better than any florescent lighting could ever do. The room was so clean he couldn't even see any dust particles floating around in the beams of light.

"Now, Courier, if your information is anything to go off of, your Luck status drains of one point per day, roughly," said Celestia as she walked to the map in the middle of the room.

"That's what I believe, yes," answered Ryan.

"And right now it's currently at 8, correct?"

"Yes."

"Which means that gives us..." she paused to do quick math in her head, "Six days at most before you must be sent back to Earth to deal with Atë."

"Also correct." Ryan gathered his thoughts as the two princesses discussed something together quietly. "Although, if it's possible, I'd like to leave in four or three days."

They looked up at him, each scrutinizing him with their eyes. "I figured you would ask to leave immediately. Why the change in mind?" Luna asked.

Ryan looked down at his hand as a light green glow encompassed it. "I've been allowed to use these new powers. 'Magic,' as you say it is, and it might as well be, because I don't have any other explanation for it, and I do intend to practice with it as much as I can before leaving this world. It could give me the upper hand I need in the fight against Atë, since I won't be at the height of my Luck."

"That's... a very wise decision, Courier. We shall see to it that you are instructed by the best teacher we can find." She put a hoof to her chin in thought. "I have an idea of who, actually. And you've already met her."

Ryan frowned. "One of the seven I met at the library, I presume?"

"My student, Twilight Sparkle. Who witnessed you learn how to use magic in the first place. I feel that it will be an excellent opportunity for her to both have a positive teaching experience and also learn a bit about your physiology. She is quite the scientist." She smiled warmly at him. "You both will get along very well."

Ryan considered the suggestion. He could learn how to use the gift he has obtained and at the same time learn more about the world he arrived in. He figured Twilight Sparkle could easily be a gold mine of information, and that's not counting the fact that she lives with hundreds of books that he can gather knowledge from. He saw no downsides in the situation.

"Well, that sounds wonderful, actually. I'd be happy to go learn from her."

"Excellent. We shall see to it that you leave for Ponyville within the next few hours. But, before that happens, we'd like to discuss some things with you, hence the reason why we came up here," Celestia said, gesturing to the room they were in with one hoof.

"What would you like to talk about?" inquired Ryan politely.

Celestia and Luna shared a glance, then Luna stepped forward. "We would like to see your magical capabilities before sending you to Twilight. My sister tells me that when you were trapped in Twilight's spell, you were able to not only escape but shatter her hold on you." She shot another look to Celestia and then locked eyes with Ryan. "Given Twilight's magical prowess and power, that should have been incredibly difficult, but you managed to do it with apparently little effort. We wish to make sure you are not dangerous with your new power."

Ryan blinked. "Well, you obviously know far more than me on the subject... What do you want me to do?"

The Princesses smiled at his cooperation. "Here," Luna said, looking around quickly, "Levitate this." She grabbed a coffee mug next to a computer with her magic and set it down on the center table.

"...Alright," Ryan said, looking at the object. He stared at it intensely, trying to focus his mind and narrow its view to just the cup. After a few moments of mental straining, he let out his breath and relaxed, then looked up at the sisters and shrugged.

"Perhaps if you try holding out your," Celestia glanced at his fingers, "hand?" Seeing Ryan's nod at her use of the term, she continued. "Hold out your hand to it and try focusing like that. When unicorn foals are first learning levitation they are taught to point their horn at the object and use it to aim."

Ryan nodded at her advice and held up his hand, keeping it a good few feet away from the mug. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a brief moment, then felt a small flash of power spark through him. He reopened his eyes when he heard two short gasps and the sound of something shattering.

He winced slightly as he felt shards of ceramic splash into his face and then clatter to the ground. The Princess were staring at him open-mouthed. "I, uh," he searched for the words, "whoops," he finally settled on.

"Tis quite alright. T'was a most offending cup regardless," Luna said hastily, picking up all the shards of the mug with her magic.

Ryan just stood there awkwardly with his thoughts, taking note of Luna's sudden change in speech. That was an odd slip of the tongue. I've never seen that sort of speech impediment before. It's far worse than a simple stutter, going so far as to even affect diction. What sort of traumatic event could have caused that to happen?

Luna cleared her throat. "Sorry. That happens sometimes when I get... surprised." She trailed off with the sentence while staring at the pile of broken coffee mug.

Celestia, however, had a mean poker face on. Ryan looked over her features, but even with a pony's remarkably expressive face, he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

She looked back at him, breaking out of whatever thoughts she was having. "There's something else I'd like you to try, Courier. Something that might be a bit more suited to your..." she let the sentence derail, unsure how to finish it.

"What is it?" Ryan picked up for her, preventing another awkward silence from taking over the room.

"I'd like you to try making a shield," she said. "Like this." A glowing golden half-sphere of energy phased into existence directly in front of her, slightly distorting her features.

Ryan looked at it for a few moments before nodding. "Alright, I can try."

He looked down at his hands, slightly unsure of what to do with them. Hesitantly, he raised them up to his chest, then crossed them to form an 'X' in front of his body. He concentrated on forming a shield like Celestia's and tugged at his mind to focus. Then, just like that, a faded-green semi-sphere appeared before him.

Celestia and Luna looked at it curiously. Then Celestia gave a nod to Luna, and the mare lowered her horn. Ryan saw it light up and a bit of energy flow to the tip.

"Wait, what are you—" he was cut off as a thin bolt of blue energy suddenly shot out of Luna's horn and fly towards him. Acting on reflex, he crouched backward but kept his arms crossed over his chest. The bolt then bounced off his shield and reflected back at Luna.

She took the impact of the magic with an "Oof!" and stumbled backward a bit, her fur singed slightly where the energy hit her. Ryan immediately dropped the shield and started forward, holding out a hand.

"Luna, are you alright—"

"—I'm fine," Luna cut him off mid-sentence. She rolled the socket of her right foreleg, where the magic impacted her. "It's been some time since I've had to bear the brunt of one of my own attacks, but I'm still used to it." She looked at him while rubbing at her fur. "Shields with reflective properties—"

"—Luna," This time Celestia cut her off. "Let me do one more test before we tell him about his magic," she said quietly to her sister. Luna looked at her in puzzlement, but said nothing.

"One last thing, Courier," Celestia said, cutting him off from his thoughts.

"Alright, but, is she—"

"—I will be just fine, thank you. No need to worry."

He breathed a slight sigh of relief. He didn't find it appealing to be sent to a jail cell for harming one of the monarchs of a country he just arrived in.

"For the last test, Courier, I'd like you to try wrapping your hand in magic," Celestia said, gesturing to the extremity.

"Like this?" he asked, lighting his hand up in his green glow.

She looked at it for a moment. "No, tighter. More magic. Imagine that you are putting on... what are they called? Gloves. Yes, gloves." She looked at him, embarrassed. "Sorry, the only species on Equis that has hands are the Minotaurs, and they don't come to visit all that often."

Ryan had mostly ignored what she was saying about the Minotaurs and instead focused on doing what she wanted him to do. He could practically see the glow around his hands getting darker and darker with each layer of condensed magic being wrapped around it. "Is this enough?" he finally asked, holding up his fists for the sisters to see.

Both nodded approvingly, if a bit warily. "That should do," Celestia said. She took a step backwards and lowered her horn. Remembering what happened when Luna did that, Ryan put up his hands in a block to raise a shield. "Relax, I won't try to harm you," she said soothingly. Hesitantly, Ryan lowered the shield and put his fists down by his sides.

Celestia closed her eyes for a moment, and a golden flash lit up the room. When Ryan's eyes returned back to normal, he noticed that there was now a wooden pony dummy in the room with them.

"I hope that the guard won't mind me borrowing this for a moment." Then, to Ryan. "I want you to strike it. Use as little or as much force as you want. We'll get results either way."

The last sentence seemed a little foreboding to Ryan, but he went with it anyway. He raised his fists in a fighting stance, reeled back his right arm, then let it fly. The compounded magic let an afterglow burn through the air as it sailed to the dummy. When it struck, all gathered there reacted in major surprise.

The wooden dummy didn't just break, it shattered into pieces upon his fist impacting. The shards were flying at such an intense velocity that they shattered through two of the windows lining the tower and rained down upon any pony roaming around below.

All three were motionless, besides letting their jaws drop and eyebrows shoot up. Ryan couldn't even find the presence of mind to retract his arm, so he just let it sit where he made contact with the wood. After a few moments, his jaw reconnected with the rest of his head and he swallowed hard. "So... that just happened," he said in a shaky voice. Without a power fist, no less. That's a lot of power contained in one punch.

Celestia was the next to recover. "Yes... it did." Her jaw shut and she sat down on the floor.

"We think we shall go lie down," said Luna finally. "This frivolity with magic has excited mine heart beyond acceptable measures. Good day." And with that, she exited the room.

Moments passed, and Ryan was finally able to move his arm back to rest. He unclenched both fists and let out a breathy sigh as he felt the tension from holding magic dissipate. "So, what was that you were saying about results?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Celestia stared straight ahead, her jaw working.

"Celestia?"

She paid him no attention.

"Celestia!"

That seemed to startle her. "Hmm? Oh, yes, results." She looked a bit absent, but continued to talk regardless. "I find that you possess... almost comically large amounts of magical strength, but lack almost any control over them. You remind me greatly of Twilight Sparkle, when she first unlocked her potential while trying to test into my school. Great raw power but nothing to rein it in."

Her eyes focused in on him. "You are going to study with her for the remainder of your time here. She will be able to train you just as well as I could, if not better, given how she has gone through something similar with her magic. I feel that it will be a positive experience for the both of you."

"I hope so. She seems quite nice." Ryan looked out the windows he had shattered when he punched the dummy. A harsh breeze was now whipping through the open space, and several shards of broken glass still clung to the frame. Something about it seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"We should depart soon." She followed his eyes to where they lay. "Don't worry about the windows, they're not too big of a problem. If all the pieces were still in the room then I would just reassemble it myself, but the staff shouldn't find the task too difficult." She motioned towards the exit and began walking.

Ryan followed the movement and turned away from her, his eyebrow having climbed up his forehead slightly. She has fine-tuned her magic so much as to be able repair a window from a hundred individual shards? What other secrets does this new power hold?

They crossed the threshold and Ryan started to descend the stairs, but paused while Celestia closed the door with her hoof. Why doesn't she just use telekinesis to shut the door? Ryan wondered.

The wooden door shut and he took few steps down.

"Courier?"

He stopped again and looked back up, having to lean halfway around the center of the spiral staircase to meet Celestia's eyes. "Yes?"

She looked him straight in the eyes with a very serious expression. "I trust you recall our teatime yesterday afternoon?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Yes, I do. What about it?"

She took a step forward on the landing and beckoned him come closer with a hoof. When he had ascended the few steps he had taken, she spoke again. "Then you also remember the small 'bout' you had, where the guards closed in on you?"

Ryan's eyes darkened. "Yes, but I believe I was entitled to—"

"—Do not allow it to happen around Twilight Sparkle," Celestia cut him off, dangerously. "I do not know what happened in your past to cause such a storm of rage within you, nor do I pretend to. But if you get out of hoof even once around my student, you can be assured that you will not be receiving any of my help afterward. Keep yourself under control, and there shall be no issues."

They stared into each others eyes, fighting a silent battle. During her speech, Celestia had unknowingly leaned in slightly, reducing the distance between their heads. Both sides had faces completely blank and devoid of emotion, Celestia hoping she didn't set him off and Ryan formulating his response. A tense minute ticked past, neither party backing out.

"H'okay."

Celestia blinked. Ryan had leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. Before she had a chance to say anything, he was already heading back down the stairs.

"Excuse me, what?" Celestia called down to him before chasing after him.

"I said okay," he called over his shoulder. "I know I was out of place back there, but I was mad. Luck is my everything, and it hurt to see it disappearing like that. Besides, I'm well aware that you're my most valuable asset on this planet, and there isn't anything I would do to ruin that." He paused. "I can't promise you that I won't get frustrated, or angry, but rest assured that I will not hurt or threaten one of your 'little ponies.'"

Celestia stopped, stunned. She couldn't understand how he could just switch moods so quickly. One minute he was glaring at her with fire-filled eyes, and the next he was relaxed as if he was taking a vacation. What kind of response was I trying to get out of him anyway? It's not like he would have just said that he wouldn't keep his anger in check. With each passing hour the man was more and more of a mystery, but she would figure him out.

"New World Blues" [Completed]
-Test your strength [Completed]
-Sleep [Completed]
-Go with your captors to speak with the Princess [Completed]
-Rediscover civilization [Completed]

"Magic and Might"
-Return to Ponyville

"Tell me something else about your world, Courier," Celestia offered, trying to spark a conversation. The two had given their brief farewells to Luna, Discord nowhere to be found, and departed on another carriage back down to Ponyville. The flight so far had been completely silent, besides the occasional 'whumping noise of Ryan channeling magic into his hand and causing it to light up.

But he stopped in his concentration to look up at her, the glow around his hand disappearing. "What do you want to know?" he asked back.

"Hmm..." Celestia thought for a moment, then her face brightened up. "Tell me how your country came to be at war with the other ones."

Ryan looked at her, one eyebrow having made its way up his face. "Alright, if you insist." He took a deep breath and summarized what he knew about the past concerning China and America. "Well, long story short, there wasn't enough resources to go around for everybody. China and America, my country, were the two biggest powers on the planet, and both of them wanted what little the planet had left to offer.

"Now, and I'm sure you know this, petroleum is incredibly, remarkably useful. But it's also limited in access. So as the last few oil drilling spots on Earth dried up, prices for trade went up, and relations that were already pretty bad got even worse. We all had nuclear weapons at that point, it just became a game of chicken to see who would use them first." He sighed. "China got the best of us with a preemptive strike, taking the northernmost state of the Unites States, Alaska, for their own. They claimed our biggest oil pipeline before we knew anything was wrong. Alaska became the front lines, we pushed them back and got pushed back, then invaded China's homeland with our best weaponry. The first bombs launched, and the rest is history."

He studied Celestia's expression. There was no doubt she had asked the question to see if the problem his world had could be avoided by her. "There is always a lesson to be learned in history," he said, drawing her attention back to him. "It is always better to shoot first than not shoot at all."

Celestia considered the words. "But what if shooting was wrong?" she asked, easily raising a counterpoint.

Ryan shrugged. "Then bad on you, but its better living with guilt than not living at all. China shot first, and we lost because of it. If America had brought out the nukes right away, then the Wasteland might never have needed to exist."

That stopped Celestia in her thoughts, slightly aghast at how casual he seemed about what to her was a moral atrocity. Surely firing first without considering the consequences was bad, right? She thought back around in circles. His words did have merit, she knew that. He might have also been correct, saying that his world might not have turned into a wasteland if his country had fired first. But would that have been the morally right decision to make? How many would have lost their lives like that? She couldn't even guess.

"You make an... interesting point, Courier. If the nations of Equis were in such a situation, I'm not sure if I could make a decision such as that," she admitted. "For fear of being wrong in my thinking would always plague my mind, if my country had survived. Though you have seen what has happened to yours, so perhaps it could have been different," she commented, attempting to stay neutral in tone and not reveal how foreign the concept sounded to her.

"Yeah..." he trailed off. What could it have been like, if there were no Vaults, no mutants, no radiation, no Wasteland? Who would I have become without the world I know the most? Would I have even been able to call myself a Courier? He grunted in frustration. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. Anything else you want to know about?"

"Hmm... What does that mark on your back mean?" she finally asked.

Ryan froze. "My mark?"

"Yes, the 21 and the spade on your back," she clarified.

Ryan sighed and averted his eyes. "If you recall, yesterday, I told you about The Couriers?"

"Yes, you told me about what you did with them, but you didn't mention what the mark on your jacket means."

Ryan didn't talk for a minute, thinking about how to put his thoughts on the subject into words. "I... it's a little hard to say," he admitted, hoping Celestia would let up on the subject so he didn't have to dig up his past.

She blinked. "Well, I don't want to push you into anything, but I really am curious...?" she trailed off, hoping to spark his interest in furthering the conversation.

Ryan heaved another sigh, fully emptying his lungs. He stared out the window, almost fully turning his back to Celestia. She looked at him for a moment before deciding to let the conversation die. The silence between the two stretched on, unhindered.

"It was... a gift... of sorts." Celestia's ears perked up when she heard his voice again. Her interest returned directly to him, unwavering now that he decided to talk about something clearly painful. He shifted in his seat so she could see half his face while he was still able to look out the window. He propped his head up on his hand took a breath to continue.

"The first time I received this duster, it only had the numbers on it, no spade. It was a gift from the Couriers, a symbol of my... membership, I suppose. As I said before, there was twenty-one of us, and I was number twenty-one, which I suppose is funny, given how I live in Vegas..." he chuckled softly, trying to lighten up the mood slightly. It didn't work. "Ah, anyway, I wore this around everywhere so I could be recognized by the other twenty Couriers while on the road, despite the chances of that happening being relatively low.

"After a few years of defending towns and running packages, I got contracted by some officials in the New California Republic to deliver a package to a little settlement nestled in a canyon called The Divide. It was a nice place, just setting up, beginning to put roots down; I was happy for the few hours I was able to relax there." The tone of his voice began to sound drier as he went on, sounding more fragile. "I rented a room in one of the buildings there with some extra caps I had been saving. I put up my feet and took a nap..."

He took a breath and looked over to see if Celestia was still listening, hoping that she wasn't and he could just drop it. Of course, she was staring at him intently, with rapt attention. "I woke up later because the ground was shaking. Earthquakes are common enough, but this one seemed bad. I remember grabbing all my stuff, pausing at the package. It was beeping, and I could see a faint red light through the cloth it was wrapped in. I decided to leave it, along with my Courier duster. I'm still not sure why...

"I got out of the building as quickly as I could. It was just... pure chaos outside. Buildings were collapsing, fissures forming, you name it. It was like the world was ending. So I booked it out of there and into the Mojave as quickly as possible, escaping just as the entire area collapsed and sank hundreds of feet deeper into the canyon." He fell silent.

Celestia waited for more. None came. "That sounds... horrible, Smith. But I'm confused. What was in the package, and you never explained how you got your 'duster'."

Ryan stared her directly in the eyes. She looked back to find that his were empty, devoid of emotion. When he next spoke, his voice was as cold and sharp as a knife's blade. "Later on, after I took over New Vegas, I got a message from a man named Ulysses, the Courier that was supposed to carry my package to Mr. House; that's another story. He was calling me back to The Divide, saying he wanted to 'settle things'.

"The place was in horrible shape, buildings in rubble, statues and monuments that had actual meaning smashed, all the inhabitants... mutated. The place was a shadow of its former self, and I felt nothing but guilt for it." He stopped again.

"But... why did you feel guilty?" Celestia tried.

"Because the package was a detonator for all the nukes buried just under the surface. I escaped with my life, Ulysses wasn't so lucky. We were the only two survivors out of hundreds, if not thousands." His fists clenched. "Because I unknowingly destroyed a new civilization, his chance at a clean slate, Ulysses wanted to destroy mine. So I was forced to stop him and destroy the last of the missiles, allowing one of my closest friends to... sacrifice himself for it. For the second time, I walked out of The Divide with my life mostly intact.

"But Ulysses... he had to land the last blow, even from beyond the grave. At the entrance to The Divide, a footlocker was waiting for me, with a message and a gift from him." He stopped again to change the course of the conversation. "You see, Ulysses was a Courier like I was, though he fought for the opposite side, Caesar's Legion. I don't even know what number he was, but he knew mine.

"So, as a final, cruel joke, he left me this duster, my number twenty-one over a spade, marking me as property of New Vegas. He knew I'd never leave the Mojave again, so he sought to anchor me to the place forever, making a joke out of my work with the Couriers." He paused to take a breath, his voice close to breaking. "I never had the strength to break free from the chains of the past, and I still wear this duster, so I never forget."

He stopped, the will to continue talking having evaporated completely. He looked away and checked the clock on his Pip-Boy, fighting back blurry-eyes. It was barely three in the afternoon and he was already spent. He leaned out the window to see that Ponyville was fast approaching.

"Why do you keep the past so close to you even though it hurts so much?" he heard Celestia ask quietly.

"Hmm?" he turned back around, surprised that she still on the topic.

"I would think that you would just want to forget it all and move on. Leave it behind, because it just hurts." Ryan looked closely at her face, studying the expression. With 2,000 years under her wings, she must have made mistakes somewhere along the way. Maybe she could know how he feels?

"The past teaches lessons that I will always need to remember. While it's true that it hurts, I've moved on, honestly. I've moved on, but never forgotten," he said slowly, making sure he was still under control of his words. He had gotten dangerously close to letting his emotions get the better of him during his story, but he wasn't about to show weakness.

Celestia didn't respond, instead choosing to let the conversation die as they glided down into Ponyville.

The town was in a lazy sort of bustle, pegasai maneuvering clouds to provide some limited shade and other ponies meandering around and doing their business. Even so, all were able to pause and show respect to Celestia with deep bows, each keeping their distance as they noticed her company. Still, none were too surprised, as visits from one of their princesses was becoming more and more frequent due to their own resident princess.

The two stepped off the chariot close to the Ponyville library: Golden Oak. They approached the door together, each wearing a carefully-guarded neutral face. Before they even had a chance to knock, the door was enveloped in a lavender glow and opened to reveal the smiling face of Twilight. "Princess— oh." Her face fell quickly, as did her ears, as she noticed the facial expressions of her new guests.

As if suddenly recalling her surroundings, Celestia's face brightened. "Hello, dear Twilight, sorry about that, we were just having a... conversation." She kept her tone as neutral as possible, but Ryan could detect some emotion coloring it.

He tuned out their conversation briefly as he wondered about how she said that last word. If he wasn't mistaken, she sounded slightly worried. But what for? She doesn't know me, I don't know her. It's better that way. He caught his moniker mentioned in Celestia and Twilight's conversation and listened long enough to determine that they were talking about him staying under the tutelage of Twilight. But still... I wonder how she could sympathize with me. I doubt someone as benevolent as her has destroyed an entire settlement. He thought the words with conviction, but couldn't seem to completely convince himself of it. Perhaps she had some darker secrets herself.

"—and so he will be staying in the Shady Glen hotel in the center of town for the time being." He reentered the conversation just as she turned to face him. "I hope you like it there, it's one of the newest hotels in the town. You will be staying under my name, so you'll have the royal suite to yourself. Twilight?"

"Yes?"

"Please ensure that he knows where the building is. It would probably be best that you two begin your lessons tomorrow as well, as we have had a... taxing morning. You know how long he is here, so I hope you'll both be satisfied with what you learn when he departs." She backed up a few steps and began to walk out the door. "I am sorry I cannot stay longer, but I have prolonged Day Court for long enough already. Twilight." She gave her a nod. "Smith." She gave him a nod and made eye contact, being sure to reiterate her message about not harming Twilight through the look.

"Bye Princess— oop, I mean, Celestia!" Twilight waved as the door shut from Celestia's golden glow. Twilight turned to look at Ryan. "So, I figured if we leave now— what are you doing?" she stopped mid-turn to stare.

Ryan had already pulled several dozen books from the shelves and had stacked them up around him, forming a respectable book fort without even meaning to. Two books were sitting open in front of his crossed legs, and he seemed to be speed-reading both simultaneously. "Reading," he said simply.

"But, don't you want to see the town?" Twilight asked, bewildered at his course of action. Sure, she was overjoyed to see somepony besides her taking such a huge interest in reading, but she didn't take him for the intellectual sort when they first met.

"The town will still be there tonight. I'm here for about 4 more days, and I want to learn as much as I can before I leave. So, until then, Ponyville can wait, you can wait, and sleep can wait. Even though I got a brief oral history of Equestria from Celestia, there's still more to learn." He paused and looked up. "I'm on an entirely different planet, so can you blame me?" He shrugged, then patted the floorboards beside him. "Come on and sit down. I'll answer any questions you have. We didn't get too much time to talk yesterday."

"I... alright!" She moved quickly to sit down next to him, trying not to let her eagerness show too much. "So, what's the purpose of..."

They had gone on like that for hours, Ryan mechanically answering most of Twilight's questions. He had skipped over or vaguely answered any having to do with his personal past, but he found himself enjoying talking about his life with his friends in the Mojave; before they left, that is. He tore through the stacks of books as fast as he would tear apart raiders that got close to New Vegas, making sure to store more important information in his Pip-Boy; namely, anything having to do with great feats of magic that he might be able to copy. In addition, he read over more than one book on magical theory, but still couldn't make much sense of the occasional spellbook he found. All in all, the new world he was in was fascinating, even if it was much less violent than his.

Twilight seemed to be just as enraptured with his world as he was with hers. By the type of questions she was asking, Ryan was able to hypothesize that she was a very studious pony, almost obsessed with the sciences. Most of what she asked had to do with Vault-Tec and some of the Pre-War electronics that he had fixed himself. During the course of the conversation she was doing the same thing as Ryan: taking down copious notes. By the time 10 o'clock had hit, Ryan had finished many of the books and Twilight had just about run out of questions to ask. Ryan had gotten a feel for her personality, and decided that he liked her. Maybe because she was like a more upbeat, less sarcastic Arcade Gannon.

"—so that's the last of what I heard going on in the East. Some figure going around called "The Lone Wanderer" had been credited with restarting a water purifier. New Vegas was lucky enough to not have its water supply contaminated by radiation, and I've hired mechanics to repair most of the pipes around the city, so most of the Mojave has clean water running everywhere." He chuckled. "Even toilets are safe to drink out of now."

He looked up to see Twilight scrunching her face and sticking her tongue out. Then, voicing her thoughts, "Eew. Why would anyone want to drink out of a toilet anyway?"

He elected to just stare at her. She stared back, head tilted to the side, confused. Then she blushed as she remembered one of the stories he told her was when he needed to drink out of a toilet out of desperation. "Eh heh heh heh. Ah heh. Sorry. We don't typically have to deal with stuff like that in Equestria, so I wasn't really thinking, and I'm really sorry."

Ryan shook his head and closed the final book he had picked out. "It's alright, I know I would forget about it if I could." He stood up, stretching his legs for the first time in hours. "Oh, man, it's getting late. Can we still do a quick tour of Ponyville?" he asked hopefully.

"Hmm..." She levitated the quill and notepad she had been using to a table in the center of the library. "I suppose, if we keep it brief. Spike should be getting to bed soon... Aww, what the hay, let's go!" She jumped up and led Ryan to the door. "The first place we'll be going is..."

Twilight had led Ryan to the workplaces of all her friends, even treating him to a cookie from Sugarcube Corner. He had remarked that it was the best thing he had ever tasted, and Pinkie had given nothing but a knowing smile in return. After a full hour of wandering through the darkened town, they ended heading to the Shady Glen hotel.

"Though I will say, Smith, you seem to be taking this all really well," Twilight said happily, still calming down from the unintentional joke Ryan had made in front of Town Hall a few moments before.

He sobered up from his laughter and looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean," she started, lifting a hoof to aid in her speaking, "you just got here, what, two days ago? A completely different planet. Like, different species, different customs, different environment, different everything. So far you seem to be taking it all in stride. If it were me, I'd have had at least five different panic attacks already, and it doesn't seem like you've had one."

They walked into the lobby of the hotel, surprising the bored-looking mare behind the desk. "Reservation under 'Princess Celestia,' please," Ryan said before turning back to Twilight. "Let me let you in on something my friend told me a long time ago." He leaned in closer to her as the mare behind the desk grabbed a key off the wall.

"'True strength lies in the ability to see past immediate hardship, to peer into the darkness ahead and believe that things will get better.' Good night, Twilight Sparkle." Ryan accepted the key as the mare handed it to him, and walked off down a hallway to go to his room.

"Good night...!"

Chapter 5: I Forgot to Remember to Forget

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Sunlight streamed through the blinds of the window near Ryan's head, bathing him in its gloriously incandescent glow. His eyes fluttered open quickly, his pupils dilating rapidly as they were suddenly exposed to bright light. He gasped, sitting up ramrod straight. His chest heaved as he sucked in breath after breath. A hand found its way across his hair, smoothing the closely cropped strands back, only to have them pop back where they were before. As he calmed down a bit, he reached under his pillow and withdrew Lucky.

He ran his fingers over the club in the handle absentmindedly as his adrenaline retreated into the recesses of his mind. The comfortable feeling of his gun in his hand set his mind at ease, and his breathing slowed. Even when he was outside of the Mojave, he never was truly out of it.

Vault 22 was the horror he just had the pleasure reliving. At some point it had been taken over by mutated plant-people, giant acid-spitting venus flytraps, and some other nasty plant-themed monstrosities that he had to deal with when he visited on a mission from the NCR. Despite the enemies he faced there not being terribly difficult to outsmart and kill, the place still terrified him. Perhaps it was the idea of being killed by the flora that had seemed so harmless.

Either way, he had "uprooted" the place when he destroyed all the spores that infect people by igniting a gas leak. The resulting explosion almost killed him, but he was lucky enough to get behind a door before the grenade he threw exploded. He never returned to see if the plants had grown back.

He lifted up his left arm and tabbed over to the Status portion of the screen. He scrolled to S.P.E.C.I.A.L. and let out a soft sigh as he read what it said. A Luck stat of 7 is still above average for everyone he'd met who had a Pip-Boy, but it still concerned him more than anything before. If he didn't have his Luck, then what did he have? His life in the Mojave had been made so easy, how could he go on without what he once had?

He derailed the train of thought quickly. It would do him no good to dwell on things like that. He needed to stay focused and sharpen his skills. He was no demigod, but that didn't mean he couldn't take on a goddess.

He almost let out a laugh at how absurd the notion was. Him, fighting an honest-to-god deity. It sounded like something straight out of Grognak.

As a matter of fact, his entire situation seemed like something out of Grognak. Mysteriously transported from his world to another by a mad goddess, learns new, terrifying powers, and encounters danger around every corner. Well, the third part hadn't happened yet, and he didn't believe it ever would. Ponies don't have the heart to randomly attack another creature, unlike any raider he had even fought.

At the thought of raiders, his head throbbed and he felt the pain of past wounds. He put a hand up to his face, only to have it return cold and damp. Perhaps he should just discontinue his thoughts there and move on with his day.

His Pip-Boy read 9:33 AM. He slid out of bed and into his coat, set on the nightstand beside him. With a quick flourish he holstered Lucky, not having realized that he had been holding it the whole time since he had awoken. It seemed that he would need the reassurance of his gun by his side for the day.

He walked to the small bathroom that came as a part of his room. He stuck his entire head into the sink, turned on the water, and drank deeply of the fresh, clean water that issued forth. It pleased him that 100% pure water came out of the pipes in the town. While the Lucky 38's water supply from the lake was clean enough, he could still feel that lingering tingling sensation that comes from drinking irradiated water. He hypothesized that radiation was leaking underground somewhere along the way to New Vegas, but he hadn't gotten the chance to investigate further.

Eventually he grew tired of stalling his day. He figured he could find his way back to the literal treehouse of Twilight Sparkle just fine, so he just let his legs carry him while his mind wandered. The amount of looks he received this morning was greatly reduced when compared to his first arrival. Perhaps he could be considered old hat now by the general populace? Maybe they deal with oddities all the time? It was a good question to ask later.

With that thought, he left and made for the Friendship Castle.

"Magic and Might"
-Begin your training
-Take a tour [Completed]
-Return to Ponyville [Completed]

In no time he reached his destination. Taking note of the peculiar dual-heart insignia emblazoned on the massive front door, he reached up a hand and rapped on the surface several times. Despite it being a public building (of sorts) he didn't think it would be proper of him to waltz in unannounced.

Spike answered. "Smith!" he exclaimed.

Ryan didn't say anything at first. His mind was too occupied with the little dragon's current outfit; a frilly pink and white apron with a large heart stitched across his chest.

"What?" Spike asked when Ryan made no sound. He followed the man's gaze downward and chuckled awkwardly, a small blush rising beneath his cheeks. "Oh, yeah... It was a gift..." He opened the door a bit wider. "We just finished breakfast, wanna come in?"

Ryan nodded, wondering how a cold-blooded dragon could blush so fiercely. He stepped inside the crystal aboda and was greeted by the smell of cooked food, along with a faint hint of... something flowery. Spike led him into the adjoining kitchen.

Twilight Sparkle sat on a chair, pressed up against the table. She had an open book in front of her, and looked to be completely engrossed in it. Spike waddled up to her, removing his frilly apron in the process. Upon reaching her, he poked her in the side, causing her to flinch wildly and nearly fall out of her chair. "Wah! Spike! Why did you do that!?"

Instead of answering, he merely jerked a thumb in Ryan's direction, then walked away, presumably back to the kitchen.

Ryan made to remove his hat, but quickly realized that he wasn't wearing one. He let his hand fall back to his side without ceremony or explanation to Twilight for his surely odd-looking action. "Good morning, Twilight."

"Good morning, Smith. Are you ready to begin your lessons?" she asked.

"As ready as I can be," he replied, a smile on his face. Saying he was excited could be a bit of an understatement. Magic fascinated him.

"That's good, because we have a lot to get through today." She gave a genuine smile, then lit up her horn. A scroll materialized with a loud pop, and she unfurled it to read the contents. Ryan's jaw nearly dropped when the bottom of the parchment touched the ground and rolled off to the side.

"I was informed that you have a limited amount of time in Equestria, so I made a checklist of what you need to know to safely and responsibly cast spells. I also had the time to fit in a quick session to explain what magic is, so you have a proper understanding of both the properties and limitations of magic and magic theory." Twilight's scroll snapped back up sharply, and Ryan couldn't help but shudder at the wide grin on Twilight's face. "So before we get started with performing magic, a lecture!"

A chair flew up behind Ryan and took out his legs, forcing him to sit. With a soft exclamation of surprise, he was carried off into the main library, where a blackboard and podium was suddenly waiting for him. Twilight teleported in behind the podium, now wearing a tutor's cap and levitating a pointer stick.

Ryan gave her a blank stare. Being forced around wasn't one of his favorite things.

Twilight smiled sheepishly and made sure her hat was on straight. She then cleared her throat and readied her pointer stick. "The first part of understanding magic is that imagination is key. You can accomplish just about anything if you set your mind to it and be creative." A marker flew up to the board and quickly drew a picture of a brain with two large thought bubbles protruding from it.

"There are currently two divisions of magic known to ponykind. Void magic," a purple circle with several smaller circles inside it was drawn into one thought bubble, "and Solar magic." A small, orange flame was drawn into the other bubble. "Void magic," the pointer stick snapped to the purple circles, "contains teleportation, summon spells, conjuration spells, shield, or otherwise defensive or supportive spells. Solar magic," the stick snapped to the little flame, "contains destructive spells, healing spells, enchantments, spells that alter the caster's physical form, and any other generally offensive spells."

"Most unicorns learn how to use Void magic exclusively, due to the fact that it has more everyday uses and it is easier to master. Those who wish to know more about the applications of magic or have a reason to learn offensive spells attend school to learn Solar magic. All schools offer training in Void magic, but only a few high-expectation colleges offer training in Solar magic, as it is only for the dedicated."

Ryan raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"What about the other types of ponies?"

"What do you mean?"

"So far you've only been talking about unicorns. What about pegasi and earth ponies?"

"I'm glad you asked, my pupil." Ryan's quick glare let her know to never call him that again. "Both pegasi and earth ponies have internal magic that aids their physique and physical performance. The wings of pegasi contain magic that allows them to catch not just normal wind, but a secondary Voidal wind that constantly flows. Without that magic, their wings wouldn't be able to hold their bodies up.

"Earth ponies have an internal magic that manifests all around their bodies, giving them extra stamina and a connection to the earth. Equestria's top magical scientists are still working on it, but it's a widely accepted belief that earth ponies can grow crops faster and healthier than unicorns and pegasi."

"That doesn't seem very fair," interjected Ryan.

Twilight broke out of lecture-mode. "Huh?"

"Unicorns can use powerful spells and control their magic, but the other races can't? It seems like unicorns would have overpowered the other races long ago."

"Well, technically all the types of ponies can use magic, it's just that it comes more naturally to unicorns because their horn is a conductor for magic. As a matter of fact, one of my professors back at Canterlot U was an earth pony that specialized in Void magic. He taught me everything I know about advanced conjuration spells."

"Um... Alright," was all Ryan responded with.

"Now, as I was saying..."

An hour or so later, Twilight had finished lecturing Ryan on the properties of magic, and basic laws about using it, both the physical kind and the legal kind.

"So, now that we're done, it's time we got to work on refining your technique. Celestia told me that you've excelled in Void magic, being able to form high-level shields and layer magic on your body to multiply force."

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, she and Luna 'experimented' on me yesterday. I broke a couple windows by accident and caused Luna to get hit by her own bolt of magic."

Twilight gave him a look. "That's... pretty impressive."

Ryan shrugged. "It didn't seem very impressive, considering how I technically attacked a monarch."

Twilight looked at him oddly, but didn't comment further. "Alright, I think it's about time we go and see what I can teach you. We're relocating to an open field between Whitetail Woods and Ponyville. It should be the perfect place for us to be a little more practical with spellcasting." Her horn lit up, then flashed suddenly, blinding Ryan.

His vision was white for a few moments. When it cleared up, he noticed he was outside, in the clearing that Twilight had just described. He could see the quaint houses of Ponyville just in the distance, and trees made up a border on his other side. His Pip-Boy made a sound, and he instinctively looked at his wrist. Tabbing over to the map, he noticed that a marker appeared for his new location, its title being "The Clearing."

He stumbled a bit, vertigo suddenly overtaking him. "Smith? Are you alright?" he heard Twilight say, concern coloring her tone.

She gasped suddenly. "Oh my gosh! I forgot that you're not used to teleportation, I'm so sorry!"

He didn't give a reply as his head cleared. After a few seconds spent hunched over, one hand to his head attempting to steady its spinning, he stood straight again. "It's alright, Twilight, I'm made of sterner stuff. It's not the first time I've been violently ripped from one place to another instantaneously."

"I... It isn't?" Twilight asked, confused.

"Yeah, back home there was an incident with this machine called the Transportalponder! and it teleported me into a mountain. Long story," Ryan said, not wanting to go on.

A small pad of paper and a pencil materialized next to Twilight. It quickly jotted down a note, then paused. "Transportalponder?" she asked.

"Transportalponder! The exclamation point makes the whole thing."

"But that-" she cut herself off. "Got it." The pencil and paper disappeared. "Now, onto your actual lesson..."

"Again! But with more feeling!"

A few sparks and a little gout of flames issued forth from Ryan's palms. He grunted with the effort, his sweat-slicked face contorting. "It's just not happening, Twilight," he spoke through clenched teeth.

She had been trying to teach him some basic Solar combat spells, as he requested. She had gotten to see just how strong he already was with Void magic, especially his shields, and she wanted to work with it more. But Ryan decided that it would be more useful to him to know combat magic. The only explanation she got as to why he favored combat spells over defensive ones was a vague statement about his home.

She could tell that he had a lot of potential though, if his strangely immediate talent for Void magic was any indication. He grasped magic just as fast as she did, and, by her judgement, he was a natural. But what she couldn't understand is why he had been having such difficulty with Solar magic. He was able to follow any spell she gave him from the Void class, save a few of the more complicated ones, but anything Solar just wouldn't happen. They had been working on basic pyromancy for the past two hours, and he could barely produce a flame.

"Focus more, really channel your energy!" Twilight coached from a few feet away.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Ryan asked, returning to a resting position again.

"I don't know, but it's not working! You can do this, you just have to figure out how!"

"You know, for a magic instructor you sure are doing a poor job at instructing. All I'm hearing from you are weird metaphorical pieces of advice." He attempted the spell again and was again met with naught but a few sparks. "At least I'd be able to light my own cigarettes," he said sarcastically.

He dropped his arms and took a stiff steps backward. "Alright, I need a break. We've been going at this nonstop for, what, two hours now?" he checked his Pip-Boy for the time. "Yeah, something like that. Isn't magic supposed to run out or something when you use too much of it too quickly?"

"Yes, but what you're doing shouldn't be taking up much energy at all! You can't quit now, not when you're so close!" Twilight rushed forward.

"Twilight, I've been 'so close' for the past hour-and-a-half."

"All the more reason to keep going!"

"No, I need to take a break, this can't be good for me." As he spoke the words, he felt a slight tugging sensation in his gut. It made a croaking sound, and Twilight's ears perked up.

"See, you're fine on energy, you're just hungry!" She sat down in the grass. "I know! I'll go get us some food while you keep practicing! I'm sure you'll get it eventually!" Her horn lit up and she flashed away before Ryan could say something else.

"Ugh..." He set a hand on his empty stomach. He listened to it growl once more, then shook his head, deciding that some more practice might be alright, despite his hunger...

Just then he heard a pinging noise. His mind switched onto alert and his head whipped around, looking for the source. Another ping reached his ears, and he looked down at his wrist. He opened his Pip-Boy to see that it was on the World Map screen. But wait... something was wrong. The light for Stats was flickering, the first sign of internal damage he had ever seen on a Pip-Boy.

He clicked on the button hard, thinking it was just loose and he could push it back in. The screen flicked as he expected, and it tabbed onto his status menu. He saw the familiar outline of the Vault Boy, and all his limbs were at 100%, also as expected.

There was a flicker on the screen. "Hmm?" It flicked again, the display shifting oddly. "What is...?" Little lines of static appeared on the screen, distracting his attention from the stats. It flickered more and more, some of the data seeming to corrupt. The picture of the Vault Boy kept seeming to change into some sort of humanoid monster, its mouth gaping and full of teeth. But the image was changing too fast for him to get a good look at it.

His heart beat faster as he clicked at his Items button. The screen wouldn't change from the static-filled, ever-changing Status menu. He frantically scrolled the wheel and hit other buttons. He even beat on the screen a few times, the images shown there starting to do a little more than just freak him out.

Just when he thought something was going to happen, it stopped. The screen returned to normal, and the static stopped. But there was something new. In the bottom right-hand corner, just above the boxes for Perks and General, there was a new stat. A bar that was partway colored in.

"Sanity?"

"That's right, man. Sanity."

Ryan's head whipped around and he had Lucky pointing at the voice. But what he saw, he couldn't comprehend.

He was leaning against a tree on the edge of the clearing. Not him, but something that looked exactly like him. It was wearing the hat he lost in the portal, and his shades were perched on its face. A malevolent grin was tied on its face, and it was looking right at Ryan expectantly. "Oh, yes! Please, shoot me! I know you want to." It stood up and began walking towards Ryan. "Just like how you shoot. everything. else." Each word was punctuated by another step closer.

Suddenly he was directly in front of Ryan. He tried to jerk back in surprise and defense, but it grabbed Lucky before he could, jabbing Lucky into its chest. "Come on, come one. Just one good shot, right here, here, here!"

Ryan couldn't say a word. He was completely bewildered. Regaining his senses slightly, he yanked Lucky out of its grip and quickly hopped back. "What the hell are you!"

Its eyes widened in surprise and his mouth dropped into an "O" of mock surprise. "Oh! he wants to know 'what' I am!" It threw its arms up and spun around backward, retreating back to the bed. "What the hell do you think I am! I'm you, you blithering idiot! Now come on and shoot me!" It pounded its chest once.

"Why do you keep telling me to do that?" Ryan asked, Lucky still pointed at it.

"Because it's what you want! I know exactly what you want, and that it definitely it. You want to shoot me more than you've ever wanted to shoot anything before!"

Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly cut off.

"Now don't you go denying it! I'm you, remember! I know exactly what you're thinking! Really, it's like I'm talking to an idiot over here," he said to a taller patch of grass.

Ryan hesitated, it was right, sort of. He wanted to shoot it, but only because it might be dangerous.

"Please don't bullshit yourself, we both know that's a total lie," it said, reacting to his thoughts. "Well, actually, I might be dangerous. Maybe you should just shoot me!"

Ryan began lowering Lucky and started to consider his other options. Hand-to-hand combat seemed like his best option, or perhaps he could improvise a weapon—

"Whoa, hey now! Focus, focus, focus, I'm right here." It jumped into his line of vision. "Just shoot me, it's the easiest solution. Come on, just do it."

Ryan holstered Lucky defiantly, his mind rapidly searching for other options.

He didn't know how it got so close to him, but suddenly he heard its voice whispering in his ear. "You can't get rid of me so easily, I'm gonna be hanging around for a good while unless you do something about it." His head moved inhumanly, wrenching around grotesquely. Ryan could hear bones crackling in his neck he moved.

Suddenly he stopped and looked back at Ryan, and he was House. Mr. House, back when he had a respectable body. He removed Ryan's courier uniform to reveal an urban suit and tie underneath. "Does this work better for you? Maybe I should give you some motivation."

He breathed in and righted his posture. "I tell you to bring me the chip and what do you bring me? Betrayal. Hatred. Empty promises to be my vestige for a new beginning for New Vegas." House put a hand up and fixed his tie.

"You're not real... I'm not listening to this," he said, but how could he know that this House wasn't real? What he was saying was true so far, why wouldn't this be true?

House ignored him and continued. "Perhaps I was wrong about you being the turning point of my little country. I thought you to be un-killable, incorruptible, unyielding, but you fell so quickly when you lost your 'friends.'"

That hit home with Ryan. "They left because they had to take care of their own business! I helped them when they needed it, and they helped me when I was weak! And maybe I did go through a dark period when they left the Mojave, but that doesn't mean anything anymore!" He lost sense of where he was and what he was doing.

"No, you're still as weak as you were back then. You don't even realize what became of you during that time, do you? Locked up in the Lucky 38, staying in my penthouse, sleeping in my bed." A cigarette was suddenly resting in his hand, and he took a quick drag on it. "You're worse than I was, you know. Sure, I had my moments of greed or selfishness, but at least I was sane-"

"That's enough!" Ryan roared, his hand snapping to Lucky. He redrew it in the blink of an eye and had its sights level with House's head. "You don't know anything about me! You tried to manipulate me, make me your pawn! Just like the rest of New Vegas and the NCR, you wanted me under your thumb or placed on a shelf somewhere like those stupid snow globes you collected! Well I'll tell you, I'm nobody's pawn!"

Ryan pulled the trigger once, sending a bullet flying through House's skull. The sudden sensation brought him back to where he was. He remembered Ponyville and the talks with Celestia, and the magic lessons, and... Discord. "I gave you my warning, you sadistic son-of-a-bitch!"

Bam! A bullet whizzed through House's chest.

Bam! A bullet went through House's cheek.

Bam! Bam! Bam! House was perforated all over its upper body and head. Ryan kept pulling the trigger, but no more bullets came out. After he realized he was no longer causing any damage, his arm fell to his side, Lucky still held tightly.

House stood calmly, having not flinched a single time, despite all the bullet wounds perforating his body. Blood streamed down his face and began creating massive stains on his suit. He put his cigarette in his mouth and pursed his lips on it, sucking in the smoke. He lingered like that for a moment, then exhaled, letting out a cloud as he did so. "You were better at destroying things than you were at building them. Your 'grand dream' for New Vegas isn't going to happen, it isn't ever going to happen. You will die here, or you will die back on Earth. Everyone's mortal. Even I turned out to be mortal." He dropped his cigarette in the grass and ground it down. "Just one more thing we have in common." He took a few steps forward and clapped a blood-soaked hand on Ryan's shoulder.

Then he was gone.

Ryan sucked in a breath, unable to move. His mind quickly processed what had happened, and, with an air of sudden and sharp realization, he quickly jerked his head to look at his collar, only to see that it was covered in the blood of whatever that thing was. In a panic, he tried frantically to rub it off, but the stain wouldn't change. He dropped Lucky and fell to his knees in the grass. He grabbed handfuls of the stuff, tearing it up to try to scrub and scrape at the collar of the jacket, hoping against hope that the stain would come ou—

There was nothing there. His hand opened and the grass fell out. He took a closer look at the area, grabbing it and moving it around frantically, checking to make sure it was clean. There was no sign blood had ever touched him there. He checked his Pip-Boy to see that the little bar for Sanity had disappeared, but somehow he felt that it wasn't gone entirely.

What did he just see then? What happened, and why? He sat back in the grass and stared blankly into the distance.

His mind jumped to the conclusion that it was Discord, but he wasn't too sure. Perhaps he could ask Celestia or Twilight about it. But the more he considered the option, the more he realized that might not be a good idea. Considering what he just saw, it might be better just to keep it to himself, because what if it wasn't Discord? They would start considering his mental health, and that might jeopardize his training in magic.

It was too much of a risk to talk about it, he decided. He went to pick up Lucky, then reloaded it with care. With his thoughts reorganized, and the lingering effects of fear and adrenaline wearing off, he stood up shakily. It's not like that whole thing was something he could explain anyway.

A few minutes later, Twilight returned, bearing a small bag, presumably filled with some sorts of food. She wore a bright smile, but it fell quickly when she noticed that Ryan was sitting down in the grass, an absent look on his face. "Smith? Why'd you stop practicing? You almost had it!" she asked as she approached.

"Oh, right, sorry about that Twilight. I got caught up in thinking and took a break," he said, standing up.

Twilight scrutinized his face, not buying it. Her eyes passed over his features carefully, noting the differences in them when compared to the last time she saw him. Ryan could practically see her taking mental notes of his too-stretched smile, his quivering eyebrows, and the suddenly-dimmed lights in his eyes. He tried to keep his expression as bright as possible, but she clearly could see that something was not alright.

"Well alright." She levitated the bag she brought up in front of both of them. "I brought some food. Sandwiches and chips. Can't do magic on an empty stomach!" She said with a smile.

"Uh, sure...!" Ryan responded, trying to match her enthusiasm. "What was that? She totally saw right through me, why didn't she say anything?"

"Okay, here you go!" she said as a small bag of chips and a napkin-wrapped sandwich levitated in front of him. "Let's sit and eat," she suggested, sitting down in the grass.

"Thanks," Ryan said, unwrapping the sandwich.

"So what were you thinking about?" Twilight asked as she took a bite into her sandwich.

"Nothing really, my mind just wandered to home..." He trailed off as he took his first bite.

And then he promptly spit it back out.

"Mmm. Yeah, that's definitely grass," he said matter-of-factly as he stuck his tongue out and removed a few green scraps.

He looked over to see Twilight looking confused and maybe a little offended.

"Oh! Sorry. Humans can't really digest grass so well. Sorry about that," he apologized.

"I-It's fine. My mistake. I should have realized, or maybe remembered, considering how much we talked yesterday about your species..." she trailed off, looking away. But suddenly her eyes snapped back to her. "Let me get you something else, then. Just tell me something you can eat, and I'll run back into town and pick it up!" She stood up and set her sandwich on the bag it had come in.

"Actually Twilight, I think it might be better if I just came into town with you. I need a, uh, change of scenery," he said, looking around at the field they sat in.

"Sure! We can keep practicing later, I suppose. You have been working pretty hard." She stood up, wrapping her sandwich up again as she did so. "What can you eat then?"

"Lots of stuff, really. Humans are omnivores, and I'm guessing that you ponies are sort of too, to a lesser degree, so... How about a sandwich with lettuce and tomato on it?"

"I think that can work. Come on, I know where to go!"

The two walked off towards the town, neither aware of the coated figure watching them from the shade of the lone tree in the clearing.

"Sister?" Luna's head peeked into Celestia's study. The mare of the sun was sitting at a desk pressed up against the wall, stacks of paper stretching up towards the ceiling covered nearly every inch of its surface. Outside the large windows the sun was beginning its descent towards the far-off mountains, bathing the room in a light orange glow.

Celestia's quill stopped scratching across the paper she was working. She lifted her head up to look at the intruder. "Hello, Luna. Is there something you needed?"

"I... wish to talk to you about the human's dreams," she said, looking down at her hooves.

"Luna," Celestia started, standing up, "I thought we discussed this. As he is only a visitor on our world, I expect you to respect his privacy and not watch his dreams. I'm sure he has his own secrets and matters, and it is not your place, or anypony's place, to meddle in them."

"I know... but I couldn't help but look. In the dreamscape, as I wander looking at the clouds of each of our subject's dreams, his was most... unusual." Luna looked back up to make eye contact with Celestia and hold it firmly.

"What do you mean?" Celestia asked.

"Well, most ponies have dream clouds that are typically soft and calm, aside from the occasional nightmare which would be slightly darker and stormy. This human, his dream signature..." Luna trailed off.

"What is it?" Celestia's eyes softened.

"It was like nothing I had ever seen before. A maelstrom, lightning constantly flashing, winds howling... He's had a nightmare every night since he's been here, and all of them are horrible." Luna's voice grew quiet as she sounded more sympathetic. "Whatever his life was like at his home, it was full of so much suffering and pain..."

Celestia's heart broke at the sight of her sister. She wrapped a wing around her comfortingly. "I've heard about some of it from him, and it certainly doesn't sound like he's had an easy time in this 'New Vegas'."

"But there's more, sister." Luna pushed away Celestia's wing and stepped to the side to look at her directly. "It's been made clear to me that he has a demon inside him. A demon not unlike... the Nightmare."

Celestia's face grew serious, her previous visage of comfort gone. She became all business at the mention of the name. "What do you propose we do about it?"

"For now? Nothing. It's clear that he's had to deal with this monster living inside him for a long time now, and he's gotten used to its presence. And I know what you told me about that 'moment' he had with you back in Ponyville, but that seems like the only outburst he's had in a while, if his mental presence is any indication." Luna looked out at the sunset. "We need to keep a closer eye on him, lest he become dangerous."

"I'll tell Twilight and ask her to send more frequent letters about his actions around her and Ponyville, and I can task the guard with watching him passively." She levitated a blank paper and a quill from her desk and began writing. "Is there anything else that we can do?"

Luna thought for a moment. "Yes, keep Discord away from him. Despite his 'reformation,' I still do not trust him. Especially with something that potentially dangerous near him."

Celestia stopped. "Then would you rather me recall the human back to Canterlot to keep him away?"

"Nay," Luna answered immediately. "If he is to keep his demon at bay, he needs companionship, and I can think of nopony better to provide that than Twilight Sparkle." She turned her head to the side. "Besides, if he does slip, then the Elements are all there to neutralize him, despite how horrible that sounds."

"I could have Twilight stop training his magic," Celestia offered. But before Luna could say anything, she reconsidered. "No, he would suspect something. And if he does fall, it would be better that his magic would be somewhat controlled and applied rationally." She looked off, lost in thought.

"Sister...?"

"Can we consider the option of rehabilitation? Keeping him here until he's defeated what's plaguing him? No... he's too determined to return home, and the fear of losing his Luck only making it more pressing..."

"Sister."

"We could have the Elements use their power preemptively. That might destroy whatever is lurking inside him before it has a chance to—"

"Sister!"

Celestia snapped her attention back to Luna at her outburst.

Luna took a deep breath. "Whatever we do, we have to treat him like he's volatile now, because he is. I believe before coming here he was stable enough, but the magic here combined with the stress of being removed from his home is making his mental state much worse. I think the best thing we can do now is to get him back home with as much magical training as possible so he can face his demons there." She exhaled. "As bad as that sounds, he isn't our problem. Our problem is returning him to where he came." she added.

Celestia was silent. Moments passed as the sun descended until it was barely visible. "I understand Luna. We'll just have to tread carefully. We both saw how powerful he was with all that unconditioned magic. I can only hope that we can get him to where he wants to go."

The sisters lit their horns and completed the cycle of night to day, the moon bathing the land in its glow. This new night, however, brought no rest to the two, only knots of anticipation and worry in their stomachs.

Chapter 6: Cuts Like Knives

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Ryan woke up, heart pounding, sweat covering his entire body. He heaved breaths deeply, in and out. In, and out. His blood pressure slowly descended back to normal, and his pulse stopped hammering in his ears. The sweat on him became cold, his hands grew clammy. He wiped them off on his sheets nervously. His eyes snapped over to his nightstand and focused on Lucky. He reached over and grasped it quickly, his fingers settling onto the little club engraved into the hilt. His eyes lost focus as he felt around the club, his mind returning to what he had just experienced.

The nightmares were getting worse. He was sure of that at this point. He went from having no nightmares, like back in New Vegas, to a bar brawl two nights ago, Vault 22 last night, and now...

He had been underwater. The murky depths of Lake Mead, he guessed. He had his rebreather in, but that didn't serve to ease his nerves as he swam through algae and seaweed growing across the floor of the lake. All around him he could hear, sense, or sometimes feel something swishing around in the water. But no matter how he twisted or turned, he could never see what it was. Just a black shape, stalking him through the underwater forests. When he tried to swim to the surface, he could never get any closer. He kicked and pulled and clawed his way upward, but no progress was ever made.

He had felt it brush up on his leg. He turned around, and-

Nothingness. It was over just like that.

But the anticlimactic ending did nothing to dissuade his mind from staying terrified. The sweat had finally evaporated off his skin, leaving him chilly, despite being in his bed still. There was no going back to sleep after that. He just needed something to keep his mind off of what had just shaken him up so badly.

His eyes regained focus and he looked back down at Lucky. He grasped the barrel and slowly rotated it around, feeling comforted by the familiar click, click, click of the cylinder spinning. It always did keep him at ease...

He checked his Pip-Boy for the time. 6:38AM. He could go, but he'd have to be far away enough that the sound didn't carry into Ponyville. If the people of New Vegas don't like getting woken up in the morning by gunfire, then he was pretty sure the ponies wouldn't like it either.

He grabbed his coat and exited his room.

A glass bottle shattered as a bullet whizzed through it. A small click came from the gun that had fired that bullet, then its muzzle flashed again, obliterating another bottle.

He was out in the field again. This time he had "borrowed" some glass bottles from the recycling bins at the back of the hotel he was staying at, and had set them up along the branches of the single tree in the field. Shooting them was not only a good exercise to keep him practiced, but also to keep him from thinking of what he saw there yesterd-

No. Do not think of anything that doesn't involve shooting and reloading. He pulled the trigger again, destroying another glass bottle, this one high up in the tree.

He wanted me to shoot him. That counts, I guess. His train of thought wandered.

No, that doesn't count, because he wasn't real. So I'm not thinking about that. He forced himself back on track.

He was real enough to grab me and Lucky.

Figment of imagination. He was beginning to get frustrated by his lack of focus.

I guess, then. Shooting bottles it is. Useless targets, moving ones are so much better. There, back on track.

Can't get any fiends for target practice here. He thought back to how easy his time protecting New Vegas had became when he demoralized the fiend population by killing their leaders. Fiends then became nothing more than moving targets.

He took special aim at one bottle, pretending it was a head.

Bang!

Smash!

He smiled at the violence.

There were only a few bottles left. He opened one of the pouches on his duster and removed some bullets, which he then reloaded Lucky with. His eyes roamed around the landscape idly as he did so, electing to take his time replacing the spent bullets, something he rarely was able to do.

That's a pony there, in the distance. He could see a small blur in the distance between Ponyville and the field he was in.

Heh. Target practice. He shut Lucky's cylinder cover and spun it. He pulled back the hammer and took aim at the pegasus flying towards him. When he could begin to make out it's finer features, his finger folded on the trigger.

But not all the way. Wait, no, not a target. It was closed enough for him to make out that it wasn't just any pegasus. It was one of Twilight's friends. The excessively-colored one. Rainbow Blitz or something. He lowered Lucky as she approached him.

"Are you what's making so much noise out here!?" she demanded. Quite harshly, in fact.

"Probably," Ryan responded, taking aim back at the tree.

"Well don't you know that ponies, like me, are trying to-"

Bang!

Smash!

After a moment of silence, accompanied by a slight ringing in his ears, he looked over to see why Rainbow Something had stopped talking.

She sat there, jaw hanging. "I-" she began, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat before continuing. "What's that?"

"Lucky," Ryan responded before smoothly spinning the gun around his finger and bringing its muzzle up to his mouth. He blew. Smooth moves.

"I... Can I try it?" Rainbow asked.

Ryan fumbled with the pistol, but he managed to catch it before it fell completely out of his grip. "What?" he asked, confused.

"That's pretty cool... I mean, it's really cool." She kicked at a patch of grass, not meeting his eyes. "Can I try it once?" she asked hopefully.

Ponies with guns. Weird image, but it can't hurt to let her fire one shot. Only one problem. He looked down. "Uh, hooves?"

"Hmm?" Rainbow Dash looked at her appendages then back to Ryan, who gestured to the comparatively tiny trigger on Lucky. "Oh!" Her face lit up in realization. "Wings," she said simply, the appendages flaring out to the sides.

"Aren't those delicate? This has a lot of kick," Ryan said, rubbing at his chin.

"Don't worry, I can handle it," she said confidently. A bit too confidently.

Eh. Might as well.

"Good luck then." He flipped the pistol around and held it out to Rainbow, who deftly grabbed it with her wing. You just have to hold the base of it, aim down the top with one eye, and squeeze the trigger, right there." He pointed to each part of the gun as he talked.

"Cool, let's give it a shot," Rainbow replied. She got a firmer grip on it with her wing, then raised it up so the sights were perpendicular with her face. She squinted one eye shut and her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth with the action. If she weren't holding a lethal weapon, Ryan might have almost called it cute.

With one larger feather, she pulled down on the trigger. But the gun didn't fire. Confused, she stuck her head to the side, so she could get a look at the trigger.

"I think you just need to pull har-" Bang!

The muzzle flashed and a bullet went screaming out, digging deep into the trunk of the tree. "Geez, Rainbow!" Ryan exclaimed, looking away from the tree back to the pony. She was sitting now, a stunned expression on her face and Lucky almost falling out of her wing's grip. "Give me that." He reached down and pulled Lucky away from her.

"That. Was. So. Awesome! It was so loud! And how fast it shot out that little thing into the tree! I didn't hit a bottle, but I don't even care! That was just so cool!" Her hooves dragged down her face enthusiastically. "You gotta let me try it again!" She jumped up into the air and hovered near his face.

"Yeah, sorry but no. That's not happening again. Nobody touches Lucky but me from here on out," Ryan responded, clutching the pistol to his chest. "Besides, that was extremely dangerous. You've had no training whatsoever and this is a highly lethal weapon." He didn't mention that technically the Couriers had never trained him to use a pistol like that one.

"Aww, come on man! Just one more shot!" Rainbow pleaded.

"No way. But you're welcome to stay and watch if it interests you so much."

"Ugh, fine! But I'm sitting in a cloud!" she shouted defiantly.

"I... Sure. Go ahead." He pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed by the pegasus' antics. He watched as she flew up and pulled down a cloud from above them. She plopped down on it, circled around twice, then sat down. "Are you done?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah. Go ahead," she said expectantly.

Ugh. Distancing his mind from the annoyance, he took aim at another bottle. His sights lined up, his finger pressed on the trigger slowly-

"Are you gonna do it?"

He removed his finger, then spun around on one heel to look at the pegasus. "Can you not?" he asked simply.

Rainbow hushed up, putting one hoof to her mouth in apology.

Shaking off the annoying mare, he took aim again and squeezed off a shot quickly, before she could say anything.

Bang!

Smash!

"It's all about focus, really. The more attentiveness you have to what you're trying to cast, the easier the casting process will be, and the output of the spell will be stronger and less taxing," Twilight explained between bites of her daisy sandwich. "If you just tried to rapid-fire shoot different spells off, you would probably mess up every one. It's a time-consuming process to really focus on your spell, but it's definitely worth it."

"Makes sense, makes sense..." Ryan responded as he took a bite of his tomato and lettuce sandwich. "Hey, hold on a second, you said something about shooting 'rapid-fire different spells,' right?"

Twilight nodded, taking a sip of water from her glass.

"So does that mean you only have to really focus one spell at a time?" he asked.

Twilight tilted her head, electing not to speak while chewing.

"Like, if I decided to cast a spell that let me shoot a fireball, would I have to focus all over again to re-cast it?"

She swallowed. "Nope. That's called loop-casting. Just about any spell can be loop-cast after you've focused it. If you have the energy to supply the release and cast of the spell, then it can be re-cast infinitely." She took another bite. "But of course, most unicorns don't have the magical reserves to loop-cast very efficiently, but there's one exception to that. Want to take a guess?"

This time it was Ryan's turn to tilt his head at Twilight.

"Think about it. A spell the average unicorn can use multiple times without too much strain of mana reserves." The glow around Twilight's glass and sandwich got a little brighter.

"Telekinesis is a loop-cast?" Ryan asked, picking up on the hint.

"Yep. The spell is focused for the first levitation, then it's just loop-cast to pick up multiple items. Of course, each time you pick up a new item, it influences your magic differently depending on the item's size, material, latent magical field, and how many items you're already levitating. In addition to that it also takes a toll on your focus, the other kind of focus, that is. Just like using both hooves individually," she grabbed her water and sandwich out of the air and held them physically, "it takes a certain amount of focus and coordination to make it all work." She took a bite of her sandwich, then levitated it back up to where it was before.

"Interesting." Ryan leaned back in his chair, then set the half of his sandwich he was eating on the table they sat at. He trained his eyes on it for a moment, then kept motionless as it was enveloped in a green glow and it flew up in the air a foot or two.

Twilight noticed though, and froze in her eating. Her eyes stayed glued to its slow ascent and then descent back to the table. When it touched back down, she clapped her hooves together a few times. "Wow! You've made a lot of progress already!"

Not enough though, Ryan thought. He nodded to Twilight's exclamation, then took a swig of the soda he had. It tasted funny. Sugary.

The two finished their meals in silence.

"So why do you carry that all the time? It's not like you're going to be attacked in Ponyville," Twilight said to Ryan.

They were sitting down in the field again. It was mid-afternoon now, and they had elected to take a break from their magical studies. Ryan had made more progress that day, able to summon up a weak burst of flames at this point, as well as being able to levitate several of his target practice bottles at the same time.

"Lucky?" Ryan asked, looking down at the gun. "Well, why does your guard carry spears all the time?" he countered.

"In the case of an attack, of course, but-"

"'And that's why I carry my gun all the time."

"But why won't you just rely on the guard carrying their weapons and protecting you like they protect Ponyville?"

Ryan was about to reply, then stopped. After a moment's delay, he leaned forward a bit, getting more invested in the conversation. "Because the only person I trust to protect myself is me."

"But what if, say, you couldn't trust yourself?" Twilight asked.

That piqued his interest. "How do you mean?"

"Well," Twilight began, "there are means, both magical and scientific, of removing a person's capability to think for themselves. It's not too rare, either, changeling magic is an extremely common form of mind manipulation, and it was even strong enough to overwhelm my brother..." she stopped for a moment, suddenly downcast. "And even I manipulated the emotions of everyone in Ponyville by accident once." She looked up back at Ryan, the dark thoughts she had banished from her mind. "How would you protect yourself if you couldn't trust yourself?"

Ryan leaned back in the grass some more and looked up at the sky. "That's a pretty good question, Twilight Sparkle." He gave it thought. "Well, I come from a place where there are many people that cannot be trusted. People that would sooner stab you in the back for a little money than actually try to make friends with you. But that's not to say that some people can become friends." He stopped to smile at her, his mind returning to home. "I have friends, Ms. Sparkle. They are the ones that I trust to protect me if I can't protect myself."

He looked down at Lucky, rotating the barrel a bit. Maybe it's about time I dropped the shield I've put up since I've come here and actually make some friends. This seems like the place to do it, after all. He looked back up at Twilight, who seemed surprised at his new willingness to talk about his home.

He stuck out his hand. "Ryan."

After giving her specific instructions to not tell anyone, or anypony, he supposed, his real name, he and Twilight walked back into Ponyville to take the rest of the day for Twilight to give him the "Tour de Friendship" and visit her friends at their homes/places of work. It was difficult for Twilight to look past the stares and other odd looks the pair got while walking through town, but Ryan wasn't bothered by it. He'd lost his sensitivity to things like public opinion after touring New Vegas with a half-mechanical dog and a supermutant

First stop was Sugarcube Corner, and Ryan was already trying to forget it had ever happened. Surprises weren't exactly his sort of thing, given his hardwiring to react quickly to anything fast and potentially threatening. It was through sheer luck that Twilight managed to stop his hand before he could shoot Pinkie Pie in her usual excitement.

Of course, the two had downplayed the sudden motion and her "glomping" him with much blushing and stammering on Twilight's part, and stone-faced denial on Ryan's. Thankfully for the two of them, Pinkie Pie did an excellent job of being oblivious to the pair's embarrassment, and offered them a small selection of cupcakes, pies, and other assorted baked goods to enjoy as they continued on to Carousel Boutique.

As expected, Rarity was hard at work in her shop and home, filling the orders that she had received over the day from ponies in Ponyville and elsewhere. She had greeted Twilight and Ryan with her usual flair, and immediately launched into inquires on the subject of human clothing. Ryan was able to answer a good deal of her questions, despite his limited knowledge on the subject, and asked her a few questions regarding clothing in Equestria in turn. Twilight sat to the side taking notes on his answers the entire time, predictably.

As the conversation wore on, Twilight finally made a mention of the time, prompting Ryan to check his Pip-Boy's clock, and, noticing his bare arm, remembered one of the reasons why he wanted to talk to the fashion-inclined pony in the first place.

She seemed confused at first by his request, given the wording went somewhere along the lines of, "Can you give me some arms?" but Twilight was able to quickly discern the meaning of his words. Before long, Rarity had Ryan's measurements scrawled down on a pad of paper and was practically tearing off his duster, so excited she was by the prospect of being able to work with his clothing. As she set down to work, Twilight and Ryan got going towards the outskirts of town, to go visit Sweet Apple Acres and Fluttershy's cabin.

Or, rather, they would have been, if they didn't see an encounter of sorts at the Ponyville open market while on the way.

"Look, all I'm saying is you didn't pay for what you took!"

"And I'm saying that I paid for it in full, ya don't see this lass shaking 'er head, do ya?"

Drawn to the commotion, just like all the rest of the ponies that had begun to gather, Ryan and Twilight made their way into the small crowd to get a look at what what was happening.

"How about you just fork over the bits so we can call this even, and we can go?!"

"I told ya, for the last time, I didn't skimp out on bits, I paid in full!"

There was an altercation of sorts at one of the vendors on the market street. A brown stallion was yelling at a pale-yellow stallion in front of a nervous looking mare sitting behind a stand. Ryan, his interest now piqued, moved in closer to observe. Between all the shouted insults and name-calling, he was able to discern that the yellow stallion had bought something from the vendor, only to have the brown stallion interject and insist that he was ripping her off.

He was slightly touched by the brown stallion's sense of justice, and his aggressive bystander-intervention, but this had clearly gone farther than he had expected. Both of the stallions were standing forehead-to-forehead, eyes locked on each other, and faces red and puffing. The mare just looked like she was melting to a puddle behind the stand, too scared now to intervene and declare one side right and the other wrong. It looked like there was one thing to do then.

"Excuse me!" Ryan shouted from the back of the crowd.

He caught the attention of the two stallions, and the crowd spun about-face to see who had made shouted.

"What are you doing?" Twilight hissed to Ryan in the silence that followed his outburst.

"Don't worry," Ryan said back to her, waving a hand in her general direction. He took a few steps forward and the crowd parted to let him through.

"What do you want, friend?" the brown stallion asked harshly. He had moved his face back from the yellow stallion, but he was still glaring daggers at him.

"Well I was just passing through and I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. What seems to be the problem?" Ryan said, templing his fingers.

"Look, bub, I don't think you want to get involved in this, you seem like a nice guy, and this guy ain't," the yellow pony said to Ryan, in what he guessed was some sort of English accent. Though how a pony would get such an accent, he couldn't guess.

"Oh no, I do want to get involved in this," Ryan said, flashing a smile. "You two are causing quite a scene, and I want to help everybody get back to shopping."

After a moment of silent consideration, the brown pony sat down firmly and turned to Ryan. "Alright, you want to know what happened? This guy ripped off my cousin here, didn't pay enough for what he bought. More like what he stole," he said, gesturing to the yellow stallion and the quivering mare behind the stand in turn.

"So you're 'er cousin, then? What is this, some sort of joint scam? I paid for my corn in perfectly fine 'questrian bits, the exact amount she told me, and now you're all on me case! You're just working together, ain'tcha?" the yellow stallion replied, pointing an accusing hoof at the brown stallion.

As the two started to dissolve to bickering again, Ryan tuned them out for a moment and directed his attention to the mare running the stand. He stepped between the stallions, who just leaned their heads around his legs and continued yelling, and got her attention. "Miss? Could I hear your side of the story?" he asked, flashing a disarming smile.

She poked her head up a bit more, enough for Ryan to see just her eyes. "Well, like he said, Hot Shot is my cousin, visiting from Baltimare, and this other pony just bought a few heads of corn from me."

That wasn't quite enough information. "Did he rip you off?"

The mare fell back a little further behind the stand. "Well, no, I don't think so. I don't know, though. I haven't been in the business long, and the prices of produce are changing so often..." she whimpered as she looked at the stallions again, and ducked underneath the stand's counter again.

Well that wasn't entirely helpful. He looked to his sides and saw that the stallions had moved behind his legs, and they were face-to-face yelling again. But hold on, she said the brown one was from out of town, maybe the prices are different there. Or maybe they're different where the yellow one is from, because he's definitely not from around here with that accent.

"Excuse me, where are you from?" he asked the yellow one.

The yellow one ignored him and continued to yell.

Ryan rolled his eyes, resisting the sudden urge to pull out Lucky and fire it into the air once or twice. Or the slightly less demanding urge to shoot the ponies in their respective faces, though he had to admit, the idea had some merit... He blinked hard. Did he just contemplate murder? No, it was just a joke, might as well just forget about it.

He turned his back to the brown pony, Hot Shot and crouched down in front of the yellow one, completely blocking the ponies' views of each other.

"Hiya, same question, where are you from?" he asked again, making sure the yellow pony didn't try to look around him to see Hot Shot.

He let out a frustrated snort. "Do ya want my whole bloomin' life story? Name's Steel Cable, an' I'm from Trotsdale, born in Sheepsland. Any more questions? Or do I hafta sort this out whit my own two hooves?" he asked, holding up his front hooves for what Ryan assumed was visual aid.

"Great, thanks." He spun around on his heels so he could face Hot Shot. "Hey friend, how's it going? Your cousin said you're in town visiting her? How long have you been in?"

"What does it matter? Who cares how long I've been in town, what matters right now is that this guy pays up for what he took!" He raised his voice at the end of the sentence, probably to make sure Steel Cable heard him from around Ryan.

"I paid what I owed, you git!" Steel Cable's voice echoed from behind Ryan's back.

"Yeah, I think I see the problem here. Okay." Ryan stood up and took a step back to face the two ponies. Before they could get up and rush back at each other, his hands shot out and bopped each of them on their noses "No," he said, watching as both snorted involuntarily and sat back down.

"What gives?" asked Hot Shot, rubbing his snout.

"What was that for?" said Steel Cable, mirroring Hot Shot's action.

"Hot Shot, you're from Baltimare, how much does corn cost there?" Ryan asked, pointing at the pony.

"Three bits," he replied, glaring at Steel Cable.

"Steel Cable, you're from Trotsdale, born in Sheepland, how much does corn cost where you're from?" Ryan asked, pointing at the other pony.

"Four bits," he said, glaring at Hot Shot. Then, to Ryan, "That's why I was excited when I got corn here for two bits, half off what I normally pay."

"See?! He did scam my cousin!" Hot Shot shouted victoriously. "Put him in jail or something!"

Ryan bopped Hot Shot on the nose again.

"Ow! Stop doing that!" he shouted, rubbing at his snout.

"Stop jumping to conclusions and listen. Twilight!" he called to the crowd.

"Here!" The purple alicorn walked up from the front of the now much-thinner crowd to join the human and ponies.

"How many bits does an ear of corn cost in Ponyville?" he asked her.

"Two bits," she said, confirming what Ryan suspected.

"How much did you said you paid for the corn, Steel Cable?" Ryan asked, pointing at the pony.

"Two bits!" he shouted happily, seeing that he'd just been proved righteous in his dealings.

"Vendor-mare, how much did you charge him for?" Ryan asked, pointing at the mare, who had returned from her retreat under the stand's counter.

"Two bits," she confirmed.

"Well there you have it folks, Steel Cable's not a scammer, and neither is Hot Shot. It was just a misunderstanding because of where they were both from."

Hot Shot walked over to his cousin's stand and looked at her. "You didn't tell me the price here is lower!" he exclaimed. "That means I blew bits on groceries last time I was here!"

"I told you so, you ninny!" Steel Cable shouted at Hot Shot.

"Hey," Ryan hissed at Steel Cable, getting his attention. "You were right, don't rub it in, get lost!" he said in a harsh whisper.

"You're absolutely right, thanks for the help clearing m'name, mate. Come by the pub any time, drink's on me!"

Ryan took another look at the bickering cousins, Hot Shot looking annoyed and the vendor-mare smiling sheepishly, and decided he didn't need to intervene there. "Well, time to go," he said, taking a few strides away.

The crowd had dissipated entirely, and now only a few ponies were still milling around the open-air market. Many of the slots on the street where vendors would set up their wares were now vacant, and those that remained seemed to be getting close to packing up themselves. The sun was getting close to setting, lighting the sky and clouds on the western horizon a light orange color.

It was only a few more seconds before Twilight flew up in front of him, causing him to pause in his stride. "What was that about?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he said, answering her question with a question.

"All of that, back there," she said, waving a hoof behind him.

"Well, there was a disagreement, and I stepped in to help clear things up. What else is there to it?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "None of the other ponies standing by and watching were going to do anything, and the situation wouldn't have fixed itself, so I helped."

"Well, yeah, you did, but you did it so calmly, and without taking any sides, or getting into the argument yourself! If that was me in there I would've—"

"You would've done the same thing as me; gathered the information, drawn a few conclusions, and arrived at the right answer to the problem. Maybe that's not what every pony would do, but it's what was right in the situation," Ryan concluded.

"But weren't you afraid to get between them? Did you think that you might've been in trouble if it came to blows? If you needed to defend yourself then would you—"

"While it is much faster and much easier to just shoot your problems, it's not always the proper way to deal with others. Speech skills, Twilight, speech skills." Ryan continued walking.

But he only managed to get a few feet before he was cut off again, this time by two of Twilight's friends, the orange one and the yellow one. Applejack and Fluttershy, he managed to remember.

"Howdy Smith, and Twilight; we, uh, we saw what happened just now. With the two angry ponies and the stand," she said, giving Twilight an opportunity to rejoin Ryan by his side. "And I wanted to just come up and say that that was a mighty respectful thing to do, stopping that argument before it became a tussle. I was gettin' ready to jump in myself and have 'Shy here get the facts, but ya darn well beat me to it. It was a lot more than I expected to see of ya while you're here."

"That was very kind of you, Smith. Thank you for stepping in," Fluttershy said, smiling warmly at the man.

"Fights here probably don't go the same way they do back in New Vegas, but I still didn't want that to get any further than it already had," was his only reply, his mind bothered by memories of the grisly results of disputes on the Strip.

"Well you have our thanks," Applejack insisted.

There was a silent pause in the conversation as the ponies looked off at the horizon as the sun sank beneath the mountains, in a much quicker fashion than Ryan was used to. Perhaps it was the influence of Princess Celestia on the sun? While he knew that back in his star system the planets orbited the sun, a rule that should hold true no matter where in the universe he was, his world didn't have magic. And he doubted the ponies, or Celestia for that matter, would make up something as outlandish as one pony controlling a star unless there was some element of truth behind it.

It was a shame he wouldn't be able to stay in Equestria for longer. There was so much more to discover, so much more to learn. His horizons were already expanded far more than the average citizen of the Mojave Wasteland, and his skills were already greater than most before coming to Equestria... He had seen things people on Earth would never chance to think of, not even in their wildest dreams.

Ryan clenched a fist, feeling the power of magic course through it. There was a crackle of violent energy, barely contained, and a brief glow of green that came and went like the flash on a camera.

He would get back to Earth and reclaim what was his. What he fought and gained power to control and protect. The land that flew his flag, the land that made him who he is.

"Twilight?" Ryan asked, finally looking up from the open book on his lap.

The two had returned to the castle after their brief talk with Applejack and Fluttershy. They had run out of time for Twilight to give him a tour of her friends' houses because of the mess at the marketplace, but Ryan didn't mind. He wanted more time to read and study on magical theory, to maybe give him ideas on how to better focus his energy. He needed the time now, especially considering the decision he had made at sunset.

"Yes?" Twilight answered, not looking up from her book. She, of course, had immediately agreed to his request to return to her library, being excited to see his continued interest in reading.

"Could you send a letter to Celestia asking if I could leave the day after tomorrow?"

Twilight stopped reading finally, choosing instead to look up at Ryan, looking a little hurt. "Why do you want to leave early all of a sudden? Was it something I said?"

I probably should have expected her to take this personally, Ryan thought, mentally rolling his eyes at the emotional status of seemingly every pony in Equestria. "I had a small change of heart earlier, and I decided that my people need me to protect them from the person, sorry, goddess that put me here in the first place."

It wasn't a total lie. It was true that New Vegas needed him, and would always need him, but he doubted Atë would go after New Vegas like she went after him. Something inside him just felt like he needed to get back, and it didn't feel like homesickness...

"Well..." Twilight began, looking out one of the darkened windows of the Friendship Castle, "that is a very responsible decision, and I can't say I'm surprised, hearing it from you." She looked back at him. "I'll have Spike send her a letter first thing in the morning. Casting the spell to get you back home won't be a full day affair, in fact it might not take more than an hour to prepare for it. Are you sure you don't want to take more time here?"

Ryan looked down at his Pip-Boy, tabbing from the Data screen to the Stats screen. There at the bottom right-hand corner his new stat still remained. The little bar for Sanity was drained further from where it was when it first appeared, now holding steady around 50%. When he first noticed it, right before he began... hallucinating or whatever it was, it didn't concern him all that much, as he had stopping trying to figure out how the Pip-Boy managed to just know things about him. But now...

"I'm sure."

Ryan had retired to bed not long after that, citing his reasoning that he had a lot to think about, and quite a few decisions to make. But most of all, there was someone, or what he thought was someone, he wanted to talk to.

Christoper is a dead man, he thought. I am not who I was, and I've accepted that. I accepted that the moment after I killed Benny. So why is it that I can still feel something about him... lingering?

"You're asking the wrong guy."

Ryan leveled his vision. There, standing in the darkness of the threshold to his little bathroom, was him.

"Christopher."

"Oh, good job!" he said, clapping a few times and giving a mocking bow. "You finally learned to accept what's in front of you. Getting worried by that Sanity meter in your Pip-Boy yet? I figure that would mean something to you." His eyes glinted in the dim glow coming from the single bedside light in the room.

"It does. And I figure that it has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with you. So, Christopher." Ryan shifted on the bed, then stood up. He drew Lucky and pointed it at Christopher, the gun evenly and unwaveringly aimed at his head. "What's to stop me from killing you and returning my life back to normal?"

Christopher froze. His expression held steadily unreadable, but Ryan thought he could make out some fear in the glinting of the light in his eyes. The air in the room ceased its motion, the noises of the world around them faded away, leaving the two in a state of limbo. Nothing existed in the moment except Ryan, and the man he once was.

Then he did something Ryan didn't expect: laugh.

And just like that, the spell broke. With Christopher's mocking guffaws, the world rushed back to them, but different. With each peal of howling laughter, the shadows seemed to get darker and reach closer to Ryan, grasping at his mind and calling for his attention. The room seemed to press at him more, getting insistent that he takes action and fixes the problem.

Ryan's grip on Lucky tightened. The screeching and calling of the world in his mind became muffled as he gave his best effort to block it out. He felt his hand light up green as he reached for his gun with his mind, and wrap the bullets in the chamber in energy. He winced as he felt the world grow loud again, but he shook it off as best as he could. He needed to stay focused if he wanted to get any answers.

"Answers?! Answers, he asks!" Christopher paused in his laughter to exclaim. "Ohhh, buddy, you're not getting anything from me. Did you forget?"

"I'm you," a voice whispered directly into his ear.

"RRRAAAGH!" Ryan screamed as he fired a bullet at the monster across the room from him, but the action was only met with the sound of shattering glass and the crunching of concrete.

Blood pounded in his head and the sound of it rushed through his ears. He could feel the liquid move through his body, fueling him in his moment of rage. Or was it fear? The two had gone hand-in-hand for him all his life, but it was only recently that he discovered that he could experience both at the same time.

When his companions... his friends, had left New Vegas, all for different reasons, he didn't take it very well. After the rampage he had gone on through the Mojave Wasteland as Christoper, it was the few people or beings he had met that kept him sane after he became Ryan, and helped him fix the mistakes he had made. Not all were fixable, but then he did whatever he could to make up for himself in that event. After time had passed, he had made things right with the folks at Novac, Westside, Freeside, Primm, Jacobstown, and even Goodsprings, though there wasn't a chance he could walk into that town without catching an insult at the least, a bullet at the worst.

And after they all left, so abruptly, he felt alone again. Ryan was different from Christopher, in many ways, but one thing they shared was a susceptibility to loneliness. Their line of work required it often, and he used to be comfortable with the silence of his own company, but after the Divide he couldn't bare to be alone. So when he was "abandoned", he turned to drink and drugs.

For a week or two, he just floated by, barely in his own mind. New Vegas suffered in that time, the Families of the Strip sensed his weakness and began a power struggle at the drop of a hat. The NCR had to completely withdraw from their outpost there, which was destroyed not long afterward.

The Lucky 38 was left alone, as it always was. The lone occupant of its towers had shut himself away from the world, just like the previous owner.

It was only when Caesar's Legion and the NCR came closing back in that he was roused from his almost lifeless state. With an unclear mind, he armed and mobilized the leagues of Securitrons stored beneath the smoldering husk of a camp that once was the home of Caesar himself.

As the mechanical army returned to defend New Vegas, he stood on the observation deck of the Lucky 38 and looked down upon Freeside, the place he had worked so hard to rebuild and restore to what it once was. He turned to the Strip to see it in its war-torn state, the infrastructure he had poured so many caps into all but destroyed by war between the Families. Then he could see, by the horizon of the setting sun, his army. He looked inside himself to search his feelings, and made a decision.

New Vegas was not destroyed that day.

The warring factions had caused many losses from families of all walks of life. The chaos of the Strip reflected back on the rest of the Mojave Wasteland, causing a ripple of destruction to the townships and settlements that were situated in the outlying area. The NCR had reinforced its position and occupied the remains of Primm, the Great Khans, or what was left of them, encroached on the Highway, and Caesar's Legion had begun to reestablish its former position.

Ryan's army was swift and decisive in its action. They swooped into the areas most affected by the fighting and broke it all up. The NCR in the area were demilitarized and either sent home or forced to come into the Strip to fix their outpost. The Legion was crushed entirely, no second chances, no survivors. The Great Khans were forced back to their cliffside settlement, begrudgingly cooperative.

The Families were a different matter entirely. He held a meeting with their leaders, and they came to a compromise. Ryan wouldn't have them all executed in exchange for them paying for all the damages to the Strip and formally apologizing to the NCR presence in the area. In addition, Ryan had uploaded Yes Man to the each of the casinos' networks, ensuring the money they spent was justified and couldn't be used to upset the peace in the area again.

In the end, Ryan pulled himself out of his slump. But the price was costly. Much of the work he had done for the betterment of New Vegas had been undone, by just a week of losing control. He made lifestyle changes, got himself back to normal, and upgraded Yes Man so he could run things virtually by himself, in case something happened again.

But that wasn't likely. In the midst of all the changes, he made sure to never forget how he felt that day, and gave himself reminders so it was burned into his mind in all meanings but literal.

Ryan sat back down on his bed. He looked at Lucky in his hand, smoke drifting lazily up from the end of its barrel. Absently, he reloaded and set it down on the nightstand. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. Emotionlessly, he viewed the devastation that his shot had caused. The mirror was shattered and had fallen to pieces all over the room. There was an impact hole where the bullet struck the wall, reaching into it beyond Ryan's vision, and a scorch mark that easily had a two-foot radius.

He turned off the light, spun around, and collapsed into his bed. He was spent, just like the bullet he had fired. As an afterthought, he pulled up his Pip-Boy and looked at his S.P.E.C.I.A.L. screen. His face was impassive as he watched the little 6 by Luck flicker and change to a 5.

Chapter 7: Reflections

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Ryan awoke screaming the next morning. He sat up ramrod straight then doubled over, hunching his back. He heaved breaths desperately, trying to flush out whatever was in his system. Sweat coated his body, and he frantically tore off his tattered shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it across the room. He stood up and stumbled his way into the adjoining bathroom.

He practically fell into the sink as he turned it on and dunked his head under the cool spray. The cold helped to clear his thoughts and calm the burning that he felt inside his mind. After a few good minutes of soaking, he turned off the water and slowly raised his head back up. His eyes met his own in the fractured remains of the mirror.

His figure was only a silhouette in the reflective surface, due to the light streaming through the windows behind him. He leaned in closer, wanting a better look at his features.

A laugh echoed through his mind, and a deep-red sinister grin burst to life in a flash of flames on his doppelganger's face.

Without hesitation, Ryan brought his hand up to the broken mirror and channeled power through it. In a muted concussive blast, the mirror was dismantled into a million tiny shards. They blew outwards, kept in slow motion by the force behind Ryan's magic. Calmly, he stepped out of the trajectory of the pieces, then let go of the spell. Gravity retook its hold on the mirror, and the fractured glass fell to the floor, now ground into a fine powder.

Ryan straightened up, a shiver working its way down his spine. He tilted his head to the side and took a deep breath in through his nose as he felt his neck crack once. With a stiff gait, he walked back to his bed, grabbed Lucky from under the pillow, threw his tank top back on, and left his room.

He didn't even remember the dream this time. Whatever it was, it was so horrible his subconscious repressed it immediately upon his waking up. He had no idea what time it was, and he didn't care. He couldn't spend another second in that godforsaken room.

He walked out the front entrance of the little hotel and out onto the streets of Ponyville. The sun was out and shining brightly, birds were chirping, and butterflies flitted through the air. And there wasn't a single pony outside.

Which Ryan noticed immediately, of course, but at the moment he couldn't stand to care. He pulled his shades out of his pocket and slapped them onto his face. As his perspective of the world darkened, he drew Lucky and set a quick pace to The Field. After last night, there was something he wanted to try. His Pip-Boy made a noise and he looked down to see that his Quest screen had updated.

"Magic and Might"
-Test your theory
-Begin your training[Completed]
-Take a tour [Completed]
-Return to Ponyville [Completed]

It took only two minutes for him to catch sight of the single tree in the grassy field. He walked forward, head tilted down, eyes locked on his target. When he got close enough to make out individual leaves on the branches, he stopped, and raised his pistol.

He gathered his energy and focus, concentrating hard on the power coursing through him. At that moment he felt stronger than ever before, like he was more in-tune with the magic flowing through his body. With a will of steel, he commanded the pliable force to wrap around the first bullet in Lucky's chamber. As the seconds ticked by, he covered the bullet dozens, then hundreds of times; ultimately reaching a number far greater than anything he'd ever attempted before.

With his Luck so low, doing something as potentially volatile as this was probably a bad idea. But he needed to know.

He closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The world rocked backward in recoil and something in his wrist snapped. He was sent into a short backflip and landed hard on his side. His ears were deafened by the sound of the blast that roared from his usually quiet pistol, and then again by the sound of the bullet impacting the tree.

He curled into a ball, one hand on Lucky, the other on his ear. When he pulled his hand away to look at it, he saw that it was marked red with blood. Debris rained down above him, smattering his body lightly and reminding him that he needed to get back up and see the results.

His hearing still deafened, he staggered into a standing position, then looked over to the tree...

Only to find that there was no tree left. Just a small, jagged stump where the old oak had been growing. The bullet's impact had blown the thing away with more efficiency than any of his rocket launchers could ever hope to manage, short of the Fat Man. Even Nellis' artillery couldn't have this much stopping power.

Needless to say, he was impressed with the results.

He slowly rolled into a sitting position, registering the wrenching sensation in his right shoulder. Perhaps trying that with his Luck so low was a mistake after all.

Shakily, he stood. After trying, and failing, to roll his shoulder once, he decided that it was just a simple dislocation. He didn't need a Stimpak to fix that, just a good solid wall. He dropped Lucky to the ground as pain shot through his wrist. Something was definitely wrong there. He pulled a Stim out of his pocket and injected it into his forearm, then sighed as he felt the ligaments in his appendage rework themselves into their proper positions.

He realized that he didn't hear himself sigh. Once he felt his hand was better, he picked up Lucky, holstered it, then felt around his ears again. There was a liquid on them, and Ryan brought his hand back to see that it was definitely blood. He snapped once next to both ears, and was relieved when he heard the sound, albeit faintly.

He took out another Stimpak and carefully injected it into his neck. It had been some time since he had sustained injuries around his head, but he hadn't forgotten how to apply Stims there. He bunched up his torn tank top and wiped off the blood that had run down his neck from his ears.

After another few seconds, he snapped by his ears again and breathed another sigh of relief as the sound was crisp as ever. He didn't think he'd be able to go on without hearing, even if it was only one ear that was damaged. It was perhaps the most important of his senses, and losing it would make combat much more dangerous for him.

He took one more look at the destruction he had wrought upon the tree, then turned and walked back into town.

The empty town. With his concerns about Lucky and what he could do with his magic out of the way, he could focus on why he couldn't see a single pony throughout the entire, normally crowded town. Call it single-mindedness or stupid ignorance, that kind of discovery needed to be made immediately. But with that out of the way, this was a more pressing concern on his mind.

He walked over to the nearest home, put a hand on the wall to see if it was sturdy enough, then reared back, and slammed his shoulder into it. He groaned as the bone popped back into its socket, then rolled his arm around twice to make sure everything was alright.

With the issue of his shoulder out of the way, he could safely go see Twilight. Because what else would he do when faced with the oddity of a disappearing town? Given how much she's told him of cataclysmic events occurring in Ponyville, he believed it would be safe to assume that she would know what was going on. Of course, if she was gone too, then there would be a problem, but he preferred to not think about that while walking over. Back home, that sort of outcome would be his natural assumption, but he doubted anything particularly sinister was afoot in such a sleepy little town.

His Pip-Boy chimed once more, and he looked down at it to check his Quest screen again.

"Magic and Might"[Completed]
-Test your theory [Completed]
-Begin your training [Completed]
-Take a tour [Completed]
-Return to Ponyville [Completed]

"Return"
-Find Twilight

It didn't take him long to reach the towering crystal castle that the little pony lived in. It reminded him of the Lucky 38, in some ways. Distinct among the other buildings, too large for one person to live alone in, great doors keep it apart from the rest of the world... And Twilight is such a friendly person. He couldn't quite grasp why someone like her, who treasures friendship above everything else, to live so isolated. At least he would host guests: diplomats, ambassadors, representatives, and the like. He hosted often, as well. It became a rare sight to see a completely empty Lucky 38, unlike when House was still in control.

A sigh still managed to wrestle its way through his lips. Maybe he still was just as empty as the Lucky 38.

Dismissing the thought, he opened the doors and entered the castle, walking into a grand entrance hallway. It was brightly lit, sunlight streaming through the clear crystals that made up the walls and ceiling. Several tapestries were hung on the walls, ones that Twilight had told him were centuries old, scavenged from the decrepit castle that sat in the heart of the Everfree Forest. Other ornamentation sparsely decorated the walls and filled in some of the otherwise empty space.

His eyes were set on a door near the end of the hallway. He knew it was something of a moot point to check the Element's meeting room, given that they rarely gathered in there, according to Twilight. The library was a much better bet to find her. Funny how the two of them, despite coming from radically, extra emphasis on radically, different places and backgrounds could share the same desire for knowledge and affinity for reading.

His boots clacked against the crystal floor, filling the otherwise empty hall with some sort of sound. Within the reflections of the crystals, he thought he caught some sort of motion. A pass of brown, a movement of white, a flash of red. Something was following him through the hallway. His pace quickened, along with his pulse. The colors flashed faster in the crystals, and he checked his Pip-Boy's compass to verify what he was seeing—

Only to gasp in equal parts shock in horror as he saw that his compass' threat detector was just a solid bar of red, indicating hostiles all around him. Faces appeared in the crystals, the face of Christopher, bathed in blood and bearing a wicked grin. Ryan dropped any pretense of self-control and sprinted to the end of the hallway. He reached the door, threw it open, jumped inside, then slammed it shut behind him.

His breathing rate normalized after a few seconds in the dark room. He kept his back pressed up against the door, hoping that he wouldn't have to muster the strength necessary to keep his nightmares out. His breathing stabilized and his heart rate returned to normal. He checked his Pip-Boy again, to see that his compass was back to normal... but not quite. It was registering non-hostiles, a ton of them, directly in front of him.

His right hand cautiously found its way onto his Pip-Boy, and flicked the switch for the light.

Only for the entire room to spontaneously light up and fill with the noise of the collective population of Ponyville to yell "Surprise!"

He suppressed a foul exclamation from leaving his mouth as he saw the technicolor explosion that assaulted his eyes. Confetti cannons fired from across the room, dousing its inhabitants liberally with multicolored paper. Upbeat music began filling in the silence of the room, which was quickly accompanied by the sounds of ponies chatting as the party began.

"So were you surprised? Were ya'? Were ya'?" Pinkie Pie exclaimed, bouncing up to Ryan.

"Are you alright?" Twilight asked, walking up, concern written on her face.

Ryan relaxed his pose and chuckled, letting the tension out of his shoulders. "Yeah, that was pretty good. I'm definitely surprised. Thanks a lot, Pinkie."

As the pink pony bounced off, spouting something about repairing a cupcake pyramid, Twilight moved a bit closer to him. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her eyes following the movement of his hand away from Lucky's handle.

"Yeah, I'm fine. After her first surprise back at Sugarcube Corner, I was prepared to see her again at some point. 'Fool me once...' after all." He rearranged his arms to cross them over his chest, relaxing against the doorway.

Twilight smiled warmly. "I'm glad to hear it. Would you like—"

"Courier! There you are!" called an accented voice from further in the crowd. Ryan turned his head to look, and saw Rarity emerge from behind a small herd of ponies, an elegantly-wrapped box floating behind her. "I know that you're leaving sooner than expected, so I made sure to get this done as soon as possible." The box floated to Ryan, who grabbed it hesitantly. "Go ahead and open it, darling!"

With a bit of a shrug, he undid the bow on top and undid the paper on the sides, unfolding the wrapping. But, when he heard Twilight and Rarity giggling off to the side, he stopped, looking at them curiously. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"It's not really that big of a deal..." began Twilight.

"But have you opened a gift before?" finished Rarity, fluttering her eyelashes.

"I..." well, technically, he hadn't. "No...?" he answered, confused.

Twilight and Rarity looked at each other and giggled again, much to Ryan's amusement. "That explains it. You rip gifts open, not unfold them," Twilight finally clarified for him.

"Oh. Well then." Ryan could only respond blandly. As he looked back at the box, however, he quickly got an idea. Channeling a bit of magic into his hand, he focused on the box. With a thought, it was suspended in the air before him. Then, with another thought, the wrapping at the top-center tore open, then split into ten or so different strips of paper that ripped all the way around to the flip-side of the package.

Twilight and Rarity looked impressed. "Wow!" Twilight exclaimed. "It looks like you put a lot of work into practice!"

Ryan just flashed her a quick smile, then opened the box to reveal his duster. "Cool," he said, picking it up from the packaging. He levitated the box to the ground, then spread the jacket open with his hands, taking note of the new sleeves.

"Try it on, dear, I want to see how it fits!" Rarity exclaimed, walking to his side to get a better look at the alterations she had made.

Eager to try it on himself, he swung it around his back and slipped his arms in the sleeves. They fit close to his skin, but still left enough room to stay comfortable. There was just enough room to fit an ace up his sleeve, and he had to wonder if Rarity took that into consideration when he asked for her help...

Looking up, he made eye contact with her as she finished her circle around him. "Thanks a lot, Rarity, this is perfect."

She blushed slightly, looking to the side. "Well, of course. Nothing can leave my boutique until it's gained all of my TLC: time, love, and couture. Speaking of, after you told me how rough things can be where you're from, I gave it a little 'treatment' of my own design to make the fabric more resilient, and less likely to tear. I figured it would be a good idea, even if it doesn't end up helping much." She graced him with a small smile.

More resilience was something he could definitely be happy about. "That's amazing, Rarity, thank you so much. I don't know how to repay you for all this," he said, already knowing how she would respond.

"Not at all, darling! Just being able to work on a design from another world was reward enough for me. Why, I learned so much from studying your 'duster' that I believe it will be the inspiration for a new fashion line! I'm calling it: 'Rough and Rugged'." Her eyes lit up with the prospects of doing more of what she loved the most.

"Well, in that case, I'm glad I could serve as some sort of inspiration," said Ryan, ending the conversation as Rarity gave a quick farewell to go mingle with the other ponies at the party.

Twilight smiled at him again. "She does love her dresses," she said, getting a few chuckles out of Ryan.

"Yeah, she sure does. How about we go talk around for a bit? I'd like to meet some of the ponies that attended a party thrown for an alien like myself," Ryan said, his curiosity for the townsfolk growing.

"Sure thing!" replied Twilight, as she led him into the crowds to speak with some of her other friends.

And the morning stretched into the afternoon quickly, hours flying by like clockwork. At some point Pinkie Pie brought in some more snacks for the eager party-goers, easily adding more time onto the already-long party. But, like all good things, it began to wind down and come to an end around the middle of the afternoon. Ryan had spent his time away learning about the various ponies that populated the town, and talked with some of the odder ones for more than just a few minutes. By the end of the party, he estimated that he had spoken with at least two thirds of them. He had found the Cutie Mark Crusaders especially endearing, despite their desperate attempts for him to help them get their 'desperado' cutie marks.

And it was near the end of the party, after the guests had left and it was just him and Twilight's friends, that an interesting conversation picked up. Twilight was recounting a tale of how she used to be before coming to Ponyville, with Spike filling in some of the details that only an outside observer would notice. The change of topic towards that prompted the rest of the mares gathered to talk about how they changed when they each met Twilight, and told Ryan a little bit about their various friendship problems and the trials they had faced as the Elements of Harmony.

But when the round-table conversation finally reached Ryan, their voices died down. He had been friendly enough to them for the duration of his stay in Ponyville, but was he close enough to them now to talk to them about something so personal?

The silence stretched for a few moments before it was interrupted by the sound of someone drawing breath. The assorted ponies looked over to Ryan expectantly. "I..." he began, before expelling his gathered breath, "I'm gonna go. There's something else I need to do before tomorrow. Thanks for the party, everyone."

More than one pair of ears folded backwards at his announcement. "Well... okay," was all Twilight could say, stunned momentarily by his rejection of their attempt to get him to open up.

"Have a good night!" Pinkie said in a subdued manner, giving his arm a brief hug as he walked past them and exited the room.

"I... I don't understand. Why didn't he say anything?" Fluttershy asked, feeling confused but somehow... hurt.

Applejack took off her hat and looked down at the confetti-strewn floor. "I reckon that he just don't trust us, is all."

Even Rainbow Dash couldn't manage to get angry at his refusal to talk with them. "It's not like there's anything wrong with us! We didn't push him away; we've been nice to him, if anything!" she said half-heatedly.

"But none of us went out of our way to really make him feel welcome, 'cept for Twilight over here," Applejack rebutted. With her comment, five pairs of eyes looked to the princess at the table.

After a few moments of silence she looked up, noticing the stares she was receiving. "I did talk with him a lot," she admitted, "and he told me about the world he came from..." She trailed off into thought, giving her next words some extra consideration. "I don't blame him," she finally said, getting the attention of the despondent mares at the table.

"You don't blame him? But he was so cold to us!" Rarity complained.

"Even after we all talked about what we did here!" Rainbow added.

"I know, girls, but if there's one thing I learned while talking to him... it's that he doesn't give out his trust to anypony that asks for it. He waits for them to earn it, and sometimes they never do. It's a problem that can be solved by friendship, but not friendship like ours." She made eye contact with each of her friends at the table as she spoke. "He's been through a lot. And he's been through a lot more with the people that he calls his friends. And I just don't think that we can match that."

Twilight's admission was met with silence. However, it wasn't long until one of the others spoke up. "I suppose I can respect that," said Applejack, somewhat begrudgingly.

Her statement was met with varying degrees of acceptance from the mares around the table.

As soon as Ryan got back to his room he tore off his duster and threw it onto the bed angrily. Lucky went next, tossed, perhaps a bit more gently, onto the sheets and pillows. With a huff of frustration, he slammed his open palm onto the wooden wall of the small room. It seemed that, even with a golden opportunity placed in front of him, he still couldn't get out of New Vegas. Something was always tying him back to that place.

He could've let his guard down. For once, in his constantly-endangered life, he could've made friends without having to fear the consequences. But instead of that, he let his Mojave way of thinking get ahead of himself, and he slammed that door shut yet again. Even after the change of heart he had with Twilight the day before, he still couldn't open the walls surrounding him.

He breathed hard, trying desperately to relieve the tension welling up inside of him. But he couldn't. He couldn't let go of his fear, the fear he had buried deep down when he had first taken over New Vegas.

"Do I... really want this?"

He groaned in frustration and fell back onto the bed, his duster on one side and Lucky on the other.

It was clear that New Vegas wanted him. You don't go ruling a city for seven years undeposed just out of sheer luck; even with how lucky he was, he knew for a fact that he gave New Vegas plenty of opportunities to remove him as New Vegas' leader. But the question was always lurking in the dark corners of his consciousness, present ever since he took on the mantle of Ryan. Ulysses had seen it and he knew just how to capitalize on it, twisting the question further into the depths of his mind, forcing a change in him. The last time he thought about it was when New Vegas was attacked, which was bad enough on its own, but now with a fight for his Luck coming up...

He didn't know if he wanted New Vegas. He never had. It was like he was a classic supervillain, from the Grognak comic books. He had schemed to take over the world, but never thought ahead to what he would do if his plans succeeded. His coup d'état had gone off flawlessly, bankrupting the House, decapitating the Bear, and dehorning the Bull. He had risen from the ashes of three powers in the land to establish a new New Vegas, one under his flag.

He wanted power, just like Christopher had.

But he had found that power elsewhere than New Vegas. He had found that power in the friends he made out in the Mojave. That group had seen him through the best and worst while he was walking the wastes, and he knew they wouldn't leave him behind forever. In his impatience to see them again, though, he had closed himself off to everyone else. He put on that smiling mask of Ryan, the charismatic proprietor/leader of New Vegas, to give himself another purpose after he had killed Benny and led a conquest against the powers of the Wasteland.

What did that make him now, then? If Christoper was the man he was and Ryan was his mask, then did that mean he was still Christopher? The haunting smile, the burst of brown, the flash of red? Did it make him someone new, or was he just the same Courier that had unsteadily entered the Mojave all those years ago?

His mind went back to the conversation from earlier. He had spurned the friendship offered by easily the most sincere people he had ever met, even if they weren't people at all. He knew why he had, but he just didn't know why. He felt the conflict boiling inside of him. The different parts of what made him him were vying for dominance over his psyche.

Wearily, he pulled up his Pip-Boy and checked the Stats screen. To his surprise, the Sanity meter had vanished, along with any other evidence of his wrist-mounted microcomputer being tampered with. Perhaps something inside him had been resolved after all, despite the desperate fight pounding within his mind.

He still wasn't able to answer the question, but he felt closer than ever before.

Chapter 8: Veni, Vidi, Vici

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Ryan was thankful for the lack of sleep that night. Any reprieve from his nightmares was welcome, even if he had to sacrifice some of his wakefulness as a consequence. He spent the night in his room, dissembling and reassembling Lucky over and over again, inspecting his bullets, engraving small clubs into them, and keeping a watchful eye on both his Pip-Boy and the darkened parts of the room. He checked his Stats screen and noted that the Sanity bar was gone still; his Luck stat held at 4.

It was time for him to go, he knew that much.

First light brought with it anxiety. It had been some time since he had felt something of that caliber. All the time spent fighting for his life, in combat first, then politics, had rendered him basically immune to the emotion. When you face such uncertainty every day, how can you help but tire of it?

His Pip-Boy made a sound reminiscent of dry air blowing across the wastes. Looking down at his Quests screen, he saw that it had updated once again.

"Return"
-Depart
-Party like it's 2281! [Completed]
-Find Twilight [Completed]

He gathered his things and left his room, for the final time. On the way out he left his key at the unoccupied front desk, no guesses as to where the pony who normally runs things there was. He took a quick moment to admire the architecture and design of the room, taking quick note of the differences to the designs in the Mojave; Equestrian art was something he had neglected to study or even look into during his few days spent in Ponyville. The thought of the broken mirror crossed his mind and he briefly regretted overreacting in such a way. Hopefully Celestia would be able to cover the expenses for it.

They had told him at some point during the party last night that the spell to send him back to Earth would be performed in the Map Room of Friendship Castle, citing some reason associated with the placement of leylines. He had encountered the term while reading, and understood how it applied to the spell they were using, which was essentially a reversed summoning spell, but it wasn't too important to him, given how leylines were typically utilized in rituals.

It didn't take him long to cross the tiny township. Many friendly ponies had waved to him or gave him some alternate form of greeting as he passed by. He recognized some of the faces, but he was more occupied looking out for any scowls being sent his way. He wasn't trying to be negative, he just wanted to see just how much a "Pinkie Party" could shift the public opinion. He was astounded to find that there didn't seem to be any hostility or even slight ill will directed toward him. Of course, with a small, cheerful town such as Ponyville, he supposed that reputations could be changed for the better much easier than in New Vegas.

The lower floors of the Friendship Castle were empty, as barren as they were when he entered last night. But, somehow, the structure felt warmer. The crystals lacked the sinister depth that they held when he gazed into them in passing, and a low, barely audible hum of power was present, vibrating in the air. He took deep breaths as he crossed the hall and opened the doors at the end.

His thoughts were plagued with worry as he ascended the staircase to take him to the Map Room. His main concerns were probably going to be addressed by any or all of the three princesses that he knew awaited him in the room, but he still couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with his lack of knowledge going into the whole process. After all, he'd only crossed the barriers between worlds once.

When he approached the door to the room, he could hear several voices making seemingly making small-talk. With a final, steeling breath, he entered.

"—and so we need to ensure that the trajectory is the exact same for reentry," he heard Twilight finish saying as he walked in.

Three alicorns looked over to him as he took strong steps towards them. The chairs and the map that normally sat in the room were gone, presumably collapsed into the floor as Twilight had told him about before. "Hey," he began lightly, "is everything ready?" he asked, his voice holding even, despite some of his nervousness.

"Yes, Courier. We're ready," Celestia stepped forward to say.

"But there are some things we wished to discuss before you depart," added Luna.

"I feel the same way," Ryan stated blandly.

A small smile graced Twilight's lips. "About the spell, I'm guessing?" she asked.

Ryan reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. "Yes." He noticed the three of them looking at him expectantly. "I just want to be clear on a few things. This will take me back to where I was on Earth before coming here, right?"

"Yes. Relatively. It's more of an approximation, as we have no way of knowing the exact point of your exit from Earth, so we're guessing based on residual magic from the spell that got you here. If I had to guess, I'd say that you should arrive within five miles of where you left, at the most." Leave it to Twilight to have the specifics of a spell.

"Alright." He nodded. "I also wanted to ask a question that's a bit more general. This spell uses a lot of power, right?"

"It requires the power of three alicorns to even begin casting. I believe that saying that it uses a "lot" of power is extremely justified," Celestia answered.

"Why do you ask?" Luna inquired.

"Because Atë said she was drawn to me because she could sense my Luck. And I'm guessing that since she used some sort of magic to get me here, she'll be able to sense magic getting me back. I want her to know I'm coming for her," he said, a fire burning in his eyes.

The three alicorns looked amongst themselves for a moment. The two sisters' expressions were unreadable, but Twilight clearly looked nervous.

"Courier," Celestia began, "are you sure that you wish to leave now? And not stay to gain more knowledge of magic? Twilight told me that you have made great strides in only a few days, the sort of progress that is seen only by prodigies in the studies of the arcane. Surely if you stayed for just another day, you would be able to make up for your missing Luck with more skill?"

The thought had some merit, Ryan knew. "I gave that option a lot of consideration, but I decided that this would be the best time, when my Luck and skill with magic are most evenly matched, both just under average."

Celestia's eyes flicked back and forth, reading his expression. She looked, for a moment, like she wanted to push the matter further, but gave up on it with a sigh. "I see you've made up your mind."

Ryan nodded. "I have." Seeing the opportunity to change the subject somewhat, he continued. "Before I go, I'd like to thank you all. It's truly been a pleasure, spending time in Equestria, and it's thanks to your kindness and willingness to help that I was able to learn so much, and that I'm able to go back to Earth at all. If the situation was reversed, I don't know what would've happened..."

"Courier?" Luna interrupted.

"Hmm?" asked Ryan, startled a bit by her suddenness. He could see some strange determination in her eyes, though he couldn't guess as to why.

"I wanted to speak to you about something of a more private nature," she stated firmly. She then stretched a wing out to the side. "Could we perhaps step out for a moment?"

A bit confused by the sudden shift in tone, Ryan nodded and followed Luna beyond the threshold of one of the adjacent doors in the room. The subdued voices of Twilight and Celestia accompanied their exit, neither of the two seeming to know why Luna was taking him aside.

Ryan and Luna stepped out onto one of the balconies of the crystal castle. Looking out over the railing, Ryan beheld a spectacular view of Ponyville just as the community was awakening. Far off in the distance he could see the stands setting up for the daily farmer's market, and close by he noticed a steady stream of ponies walking in or towards Sugarcube Corner. A plume of fluffy white smoke was lazily drifting upward into the sky, showing all passerby that the small bakery has been hard at work making all the goods they'll eat over the course of the day. It was a lazy sort of bustle, far different from what Ryan was used to in New Vegas. While he wouldn't trade up his place in the Lucky 38, this... was a view he could get used to.

"Courier." Luna's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Is something wrong?" he asked quietly, his mind still away in Ponyville.

"There is something I wished to confess," she said, her voice held taut as a steel cable.

Turning away from the view, he faced her.

Her face matched her voice, even and steady. When she took a short breath in, Ryan knew that she was going to say something that he wouldn't want to hear. "I wish to confess that I monitored your dreamstate for the nights that you slept here. As the princess of the night, it is my duty to keep watch over the sleep of my subjects and interject in nightmares as needed. However, while I did notice your dreamstate, I did not interfere, as I believed it would be a breach of trust between us." Her expression softened. "Even so, I wanted you to know that I bore witness to the maelstrom that is your dreams. And I also wanted you to take caution, to not let it tear you apart... as mine did myself."

Ryan, for once, was at a loss for words. Part of him was outraged at the invasion of privacy, despite her not even looking at his dream directly, if her words were to be believed. He couldn't think of a thing more secure or private to him than his own thoughts and dreams. After the incident in the Big Empty he had become a bit more paranoid when it came to his brain or his body's inner workings. But another part of him wanted to focus on what else she said, about her being torn apart by her own dreams.

Silence continued between the two. He recalled what he had read of Equestria's history and what Twilight had told him about Luna and her counterpart, Nightmare Moon. The story of a mare set in conflict with her desires and the shadow of her potential power, and her subsequent fall from grace as her destructive side got the best of her and shattered everything that she once held dear. It was a tragic tale, one that he knew would stick with him for years to come. And thinking about it now, after the events with Christopher... he could see the parallels.

Luna's eyes darted between his, unable to focus on one for more than a few seconds before switching to the other. She was anxious to see how he would react, clearly, and she was also... concerned? Perhaps she truly does care to see him fare well after he leaves Equestria. Or maybe she just wishes to save him from falling to despair like she did. It could be a mixture of both.

Hesitantly, he held out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. She froze up immediately, her muscles tensing under his touch and his unmoving expression. "I will not become the man I used to be," he said firmly, his stare full of resolve.

As he removed his hand he felt her muscles unclench, a pent-up breath releasing from her lungs slowly. "I could not bear," she said, finally, a hint of pain in her voice, "to see another fall to mistakes similar to my own."

"I would sooner die than shut myself away from the world again," Ryan said with finality, knowing that he had nothing else to say.

"Then you are ready," Luna said, turning to open the door to lead them back inside.

Twilight and Celestia were silent in the room. There was no doubt they had speculated on what Luna and Ryan were talking about while outside, but the conversation must have died down before they reentered. A swift nod was exchanged between all three princesses, and, without another word, they arranged themselves in a triangle in the middle of the room.

Their horns glowed, and Ryan could feel the tug of magic from the atmosphere. Waves of it flowed into their horns as they channeled the spell, weaving the power into something palpable and secure. After only a few brief moments, a small shimmer appeared in the air in the center of the three. A bead of sweat trickled down Twilight's forehead, and the shimmer rippled and grew bigger.

One minute, no doubt a slow one for Twilight, passed and the shimmer expanded to reach up to the ceiling. It had transformed to a cylindrical segment of torn space and time. It glowed an ominous purple, and he could see pinpricks of light in the void, like stars in the night sky. The power supply from the three alicorns shut off as the gateway manifested, leaving the three panting and slightly exhausted.

"All that's left is for you to step through," Twilight panted out, giving him a small, but proud, smile. "I hope you remember most of what we discussed before, I know I'll never forget learning about Earth. And I'll never forget learning about you either," she said, beaming.

"Thanks, Twilight. Well," he said, looking at the three princesses of Equestria, "I guess I'll see you around." He put his hand up to his head in a little salute, before walking forward to the portal. But, just before he could cross the threshold between worlds once again, he was stopped by a voice.

"Oh, and Courier?" Celestia asked.

"Yeah?"

"Kick her ass."

Ryan's smile turned vicious. "You can bet on that."

Epilogue: The House Always Wins

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"The odds are always in my favor, don't forget that."

"But what if they aren't?"

"Then I rig them."

The last time he had gone through the portal, it was over in a flash. Just like the way the world ended. There one second, gone the next, replaced by something new and terrifying. This time, however... this time was different.

He was lost in a void for maybe nothing more than a moment, but it could've been ages. He felt a presence and a pressure, like a great power had suddenly turned its eye to him and was watching. Thoughts were brought to his attention, like fingertips on the surface of his mind, a frigid cold that invaded the void. She knew he was back.

Ryan flashed through the portal and landed back on solid ground. He stumbled to his hands and knees and took deep gulps of air. He closed his fists around the piles of red sand that had gathered where he was. The portal closed behind him silently, leaving only silence besides the sounds of his breath. He looked up and surveyed the land.

He was back at Ground Zero, formerly known as the town of Calico. The black people-shaped stains of ash had faded slightly, and the ruins of the homes had progressed further into dilapidation. The area was dark, the horizon in the distance providing the first hints of the sunrise. A filmy red dust covered everything in sight, and the sand, carried in the gusty wind, buffeted his face. He chuckled, glad he now had protection for his arms in the form of sleeves.

He got up slowly, his head swiveling, looking for danger. He checked his Pip-Boy's compass to see if there was any warning she was coming. The display was blank, aside from the map marker for Calico and the cardinal directions. Well, she knew he was back, all he had to do was wait for her to inevitably show her face.

"Back so soon?"

Fuck.

He turned around. Of course she was behind him. He smiled good-naturedly and lifted his hands in a little shrug, doing what he thought was a good job of burying all of his uncertain emotions. He was back on Earth, and the mask was back on. "What can I say? I missed you."

Atë's smile turned predatory. "I didn't realize I made such an impression," she purred.

"I would say you stole my heart, but we both know that what you took was much worse," Ryan said, his grin deepening to match his glare. He turned his body perpendicular to her, so his right side was hidden from her view. His hand reached down and pulled Lucky out of its holster, then he began to channel magic into it, wrapping his power around the bullets but keeping it controlled, unlike his first experiment in the Clearing. "So... I assume you don't want to give it back?" he asked, stalling for time in a way that was totally not obvious.

Atë sneered. "No. Instead, I'm going to suck you dry of whatever you might have left. People like you are what's wrong with this universe anyway, breaking the designs of life just by sheer bullshit." She spat out the words with contempt. "It's my job, and my pleasure, to make sure nobody's too good at breaking the bank around here. You weren't the only lucky one in this backwater husk of a nation, but you were definitely the most lucky. I figured bringing you down a few thousand pegs would be enough to discourage any other Divines from fucking around with my unlucky planet, but I guess some just slip through the cracks. By the way," she added on, striking a thoughtful pose, "still don't want to tell me who your parents are?"

Despite feeling like he had added enough power to his bullets, he carried the conversation on, waiting for a more opportune moment to fire. "My parents were settlers in California. Jericho and Sarah were their names, and I wasn't able to see them except in photographs and in writing on wooden crosses. They couldn't be more human if they tried." It was time for him to discard the joking mask. He could tell she was waiting for him to make the first move, but he wasn't going to shoot until he had some starting advantage. And he had a something of an idea.

"Well it's a shame I don't believe you. Nobody's that lucky just by coincidence." She sighed and rolled her neck around in a circle. "I guess it doesn't matter in the end, I'm still going to kill you, and then maybe kill the rest of your Mojave as well. I think it would be ironic if I cursed New Vegas to be the unluckiest city on the continent."

Ryan's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, don't like that, hun? Too bad. I think I will do it after all, regardless of how much fun it might be to watch everyone die from 'unnatural causes', I think doing it just to piss you off might be even more worth it." She giggled and crossed her many arms. "I guess that's enough stalling then, time to get to it. How do you want to die?" she asked.

Not quite the phrase he wanted, but he'll go for it. "I'm not dying today. You know why?"

"You're probably just gonna feed me some bullshit excuse about going back to your home or something, but let's hear it. I'm in no rush," she said dismissively with a wave of her arms.

"Because I brought backup." He smirked, seeing the goddess' smile drop. "Now!" he yelled, looking beyond her.

The second-biggest bluff he'd ever pulled, right up there next to convincing Legate Lanius to fuck off right before his Securitrons came in to destroy his Legion. Atë's head twirled around, several of her arms ready to blast anything behind her, while the others immediately pointed at Ryan and fired a bolt of dark purple energy.

He lifted his left arm and braced it in front of his body, like he was about to ram a door with his shoulder, and a thick barrier materialized in a dome around him. The shots Atë fired ricocheted off of his defenses harmlessly and Ryan dropped the shield. He took a firm step forward, just as Atë was turning back around to see him miraculously still alive, then raised Lucky to aim directly at her chest.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The gun popped bullets as fast as Ryan could pull the trigger. After the first shot, his hand snapped to grasp Lucky. The recoil felt like something he would expect from an anti-materiel rifle, not his normally-stable revolver. The salvo finished, he held his glare at Atë, expecting her to fall over from her wounds. Despite the lack of blood, the shock on Atë's face betrayed her injuries.

She smirked. "Well, it looks like old dogs can learn new tricks!"

And Ryan's hopes shattered.

Along with multiple ribs, when she suddenly flashed forward and kicked him in the chest.

He slid back across the dusty landscape, twenty, thirty feet, then stopped. He gasped for breath, but found none. He coughed once, violently, and felt another crack in his chest. Flecks of blood flew from his mouth and came back down to land on his face. His eyes wide with pain, he grabbed for a Stimpak in his duster.

"Ah, ah." Atë was suddenly above him. A boot stopped his hand from reaching into his pockets, then it pinned his arm to the ground. "What a surprise that was! I didn't think anybody on Earth would have the sort of potential to wield magic, but I guess if anybody could, it'd be you, hmm? It was a good try there, but you failed." She reached a hand out to where they were before she kicked him, and Lucky suddenly appeared in her hand. "Pretty," she said, appraising it.

"Well, looks like that's it then. Guess I'll keep this around as a souvenir, not like I'd have any need to use it." She leveled it with his head. "Except now, of course. Irony is one of my favorite things after all, and we have a double helping here. Killing you with your own 'lucky' gun, and you dying, just like all the rest of those 'villains' that you fought for the good of the Mojave."

She pulled back the hammer. "Anything else to add on, sweetie? You look a million miles away."

Such plans for Vegas... There's so much I could have accomplished. So much I could have done to make a nation. So much I could have done to reform the entire Wasteland. Restore America to its former glory... His brain lit up and made the connection like a spark of lightning. This must be what it felt like. The Think Tank, Daniel, Elijah... Ulysses. They all had designs for the future. And now I am going to die, just like they did. Plans to never be realized, the Wasteland never to benefit from the knowledge I had.

A barrier broke in his mind. Despite the pain he felt in his body, his mind felt clearer than ever. In that moment, there was no Ryan or Christopher. There was just him, and he wasn't about to die.

The Courier's head snapped up to stare Atë in the eyes. Then he spoke one word. "No."

And then his world exploded.

Wind whipped around him with the fury of a hurricane, tossing dirt and debris everywhere. He felt himself slowly rise into the air like a string attached to his back was pulling him up. The skies grew dark as lightning flashed in storm clouds above him, but no rain came down. He stopped ascending and looked around, his eyes filled with rage. Atë was on the ground before him, staring in awe, seemingly unable to move.

He floated down to where she weakly stood, his feet touching the ground just before her. The world returned to normal, the wind dying down and the clouds retreating. As he approached, he felt the bones in his chest knitting themselves back together, like no damage was sustained at all. Atë was still frozen in place, her eyes not breaking contact with Ryan's.

He slowly moved his arm out to the side. Atë followed his motion, eyes stuck open by terror. Lucky flashed into existence in his hand, and his softly closed his fingers around the familiar weapon. He slowly spun the revolving cylinder and withdrew all the bullets but two. He closed the cover of the cylinder with a soft click, then pulled back the hammer.

He rolled the gun down his arm, spinning the cylinder and causing the positions of the bullets to be unknown to either of them. "Let's see how lucky I still am," he said without emotion.

He pointed the gun at his head and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He slapped the cylinder again, pulled the hammer before it finished its motion, and fired without any hesitation.

The gun flashed and the bullet tore through her leg. She cried out in pain, falling to a knee. She looked back up at him, unable to form any words or make any noise other than grunts of pain. "Now you want me to show sympathy. To show mercy." He tilted his head sideways questioningly, pushing Lucky's muzzle against her forehead.

She couldn't nod, but he could see the answer in her eyes plain as day. He pulled back the hammer, the soft click making her wince.

"No."

He pulled the trigger.

It's a real shame you can't really kill a god. There's all sorts of ways you can disable one for a while, but they always come back, sooner or later. Maybe by eradicating their source of power you can make them too weak to do anything at all, but how could I get rid of misfortune in the world?

The Courier took a look at his Pip-Boy screen. Stats. S.P.E.C.I.A.L. "Luck: 10 (+)"

Right back where he liked it.

The sun had begun to rise. The great orb was making its way up the horizon, same as it always did. He couldn't help but feel a little underwhelmed by it now, though, after seeing the rise of the sun in Equestria, with the town of Ponyville beginning to bustle underneath its rays. All he had to look at was the dusty expanse of the lonesome road back to New Vegas.

As he walked off, a song came on the radio, one he had never heard before. It didn't sound like something that his world produced, even. But it made him think about where he was going. If New Vegas was able get along with just Yes Man for a few days, maybe it would be able to get along without him for longer?

With the data his Pip-Boy map had, maybe there was a chance he could get the Transportalponder! to take him to a better place. He could really use a vacation.

Author's Notes

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Author's Notes:

So in case you didn't get the note, this is the "hidden" chapter where I stored all my little tidbits of information regarding this story. Contained below is where I put all kinds of small scene ideas, character sheets for Ryan and Christopher, the plans for each chapter (which I deviated from very quickly by very much), and a ton of stuff that didn't make it into the final cut of the story. In case it wasn't made clear enough by the chapter's title and the blog post I made concerning this chapter, it's entirely optional to read through, and it's really for both my benefit and yours, in case you wanted to see some of the planning and thought that went into the story, along with a little additional content. For some of these, I'll give a little extra commentary giving a bit more detail regarding whatever it is. Enjoy.

This was one of the first scenes that I wrote when I began this story. It was really just a scene that I wanted to include somewhere, but I could never find the place for it, so it was cut. Well, it was cut because of that, and because it sounded kinda corny and just weird in general. It was inspired by the song "Glass of Water" by Coldplay.

"But then what is the purpose at all?"

Ryan stared at her for a moment in thought. "Tell me what you see here," he said, gesturing at a full glass of water that sat on a table next to them.

"What?"

"Tell me what you see," he insisted.

"I see a glass of water. What do you mean?" she asked, irritated.

Ryan shook his head. "That's the problem, then! That's all you see! Look closer, look harder! There's so much more going on here!"

"I don't know what you mean, what more is there?"

"I..." he trailed off for a moment, losing focus. "What is the glass?" he suddenly asked.

"Um... a glass? It holds wat-"

"Exactly!"

"What?"

"It holds things! It's a container!"

"You've lost me," she deadpanned.

"Just look. Look into the glass and tell me what you see."

She groaned. "Alright." She stood up and peering into the top of the glass. Ryan leaned forward and looked through the side. "I see the table, and some water." She sat back down in a self-satisfying way.

"You're still not getting it!"

"Well then tell me what you see!"

"I-" he began, "Alright. You'd like to know what I see?"

"Please."

He stood up and looked in the top. "I see a glass of water." He held up a hand to cut off any victory shout she might have had. "But there's more to it than that. I see how important something as trivial as this can be. I see a mother giving her son the last few drops of water they have." He moved to look through the side of the cup. "I see a container, filled with nothing but potential. It could hold anything, be it water, soda, or even acid. I see it being used both as a peace offering and as a weapon." He put a hand on the top and twisted it around. "I see the amazing ways little things turn out to have great importance, or how something of little value to one person can have great value to another." He peered in through the top again. "I see the ripples and the rhymes of the past and future. I see how something so trivial can be so precious in so many ways." He gave a slight pause to allow his words to sink in. "But most of all I see myself. I see who I was and who I became. And I wonder if I really like it."

Ryan stood up and left the room, leaving Twilight alone with the glass of water.

This, I'm sure you recognize, is the first quote at the beginning of the Epilogue. I wrote it pretty early on, but I originally intended it to be the end of the conversation with Celestia or Luna at the end of Chapter 8. The other quote, "kick her ass," totally won me over though, so I cut it last-minute. But I like this one too much, so I just decided to put it into the beginning of the Epilogue as sort of a preface to why Ryan doesn't ever lose a fight. As for whom he's talking to, I dunno. It could really be anybody, but I'd like to imagine that it's Boone or Cassidy, one of the companions that can sympathize with him a bit more.

"The odds are always in my favor, don't forget that."

"But what if they aren't?"

"Then I rig them."

Events Ordered by Day

Key:
~~removed from story/was changed~~
made it into story

Day 1: Prologue/ Chapter 1; Ryan arrives in Equestria with 10 Luck, Celestia is looking for him. Ryan makes it to Ponyville outskirts. Celestia didn't find him.

Day 2 (and some of day 1): Chapter 2; Ryan meets with Celestia ~~Mane 6~~ talks with them, ~~goes with Celestia to the castle to decide what to do with him.~~ Ryan talks more about his past specifically, California, The Couriers, ~~Christopher.~~ ~~Talks briefly with Discord before going to sleep for the night.~~ Luck 9.

Day 2: Chapter 3; Flashback to Benny confrontation. Celestia and Ryan talk more history. Ryan meets Mane 6. Goes with Celestia to the castle, talks more about Ryan's past: the Divide. ~~Ryan spent night in suite.~~ Ryan goes to spend night in suite, Discord appears to give Forecast and just basically fuck with him. Luck 8.

Day 3: Chapter 4; Wakes from nightmares, Talks with Celestia and Luna in war room, learns she can send him home right away. He decides he doesn't want to go yet, learn some magic to get an edge. Learns that he isn't good with anything but basic telekinesis, shields, and amplifying the power of his strikes. He and Celestia talk some more, Ryan vows not to lose his temper in front of her. spends the morning training, goes through his regular routines. Luna confronts him on the nature of his dreams, he reveals part of what happened in the Divide to her, shares a lesson on not dwelling on the past. He spends the rest of the day wandering around the gardens, thinking of what Celestia told him about NMM and Discord. Celestia watches him pace around, Luna enters and tells her about what she saw. They debate the good of preemptive strikes on enemies, Ryan reveals more about America's past with China, talks about the insignia on his back. Celestia gains a small understanding of why he is the way he is. He and Twilight share words/knowledge. Luck 7.

Day 4: Chapter 5; Ryan's practices are dangerous in the close quarters, ~~decides to go to Ponyville and~~ spend his final few days practicing magic and shooting in the more open spaces. Meets up with Twilight, begins training. Sanity meter on Pip-Boy, Christopher comes to mess with Ryan. Cut to Celestia and Luna discussing Ryan's dark side. gets a few pointers about energy focus. Get into a debate over weaponry and why it's necessary. "We carry the shield and the sword, the tough question is when each is necessary." Remedies an altercation in the marketplace between strangers: high speech skill, AJ and FShy are watching. Spends night out on the outskirts of town. Luck 6.

Day 5: Chapter 6: Nightmares worse. Goes out shooting, he makes the connection that he can enhance the stopping power of Lucky. RD intervenes, asking to take a shot ~~and inquires about his life. Ryan tells her a bit about his time in Vegas, she doesn't believe him.~~ Ryan and Twilight talk about friends and weaponry. Meets with Rarity, gets sleeves on duster. Resolves situation in market. ~~He tells her the story of the Lone Wanderer in the East, anecdote about sun rising in the East and setting in the West,~~ ~~direct reference to his fading Luck.~~ He talks to Christopher, ~~what he would have thought about the situation.~~ ~~Heads back to the outskirts of town to sleep.~~ Asks Celestia to send him home the day after tomorrow. Luck 5.

~~Day 6: Chapter 8:~~ Day 6: Chapter 7: Wakes to a quiet town. Tests out unstable magic on Lucky. Party being thrown near Town Hall just as he gets suspicious about a surprise attack. Regales the tale of the Lone Wanderer and his "noble quest." Towards the end of the party he makes an announcement. "Fantastic party, too bad this is my last day here." Mane 6 disappointed he is leaving, because he is their friend. Later in the night, during the cleanup, he relates how much he's changed in the past few years, along with how much he's changed by being in Equestria. Brief cut to him beating himself up over not saying anything. Brief cut to Mane 6 discussing him and his lone-wolf personality. Luck 4.

Day 7: Chapter 8: ~~Celestia arrives early morning, tells him that it's time for him to leave.~~ Before he goes to say goodbye, she talks to him about considering staying in Equestria and finding an alternative way to augment his Luck. He firmly asserts that it is his duty to defend his name and his home. ~~He stands for his flag, the one he wears on his back.~~ Celestia worries he won't be up for the fight, given his Luck stat of 4. ~~He asserts that he has "rigged the odds."~~

Epilogue: Ryan arrives at Ground Zero, ~~calls out Ate. She arrives shocked, his body is sparking with energy, the storm barely contained.~~ ~~They spar, exchanging light hits, Ryan begins to wear down, realizes why it's not a good idea to fight a goddess.~~ He misses every shot and gets knocked flat on his ass. She mocks him and Vegas, spits upon the human race and their "feeble attempts at civilization." ~~She begins to debate destroying his city or~~ cursing its citizens with bad luck and letting them die off quickly from terrible "accidents." Ryan releases the storm inside him in a quiet burst ~~in a powerful scream,~~ ~~causing an earthquake that destroys the rest of Ground Zero.~~ Ate immobilized as he walks calmly like he is in the eye of the storm. "I fight for my home, the place I set my flag over. You seek to destroy all that I have built up, including myself. I have made peace inside, betwen the man I am and the man I was. I speak with weighted words for my voice is doubled; by the man I am and the man I was. And now, I will take back what is mine." ~~She vows to return one day, because the gods cannot truly be destroyed.~~ ~~He flourishes Lucky, presses it against her chest, and fires directly into her heart.~~ Plays a game of rigged Russian Roulette to kill her because YEAH IRONY OR MOTIF OF LUCK OR SOMETHING. He walks to the East, into the rising sun, contemplating re-calibrating the Transportalponder! to take him to a better place.

Ryan's Characterization/Backstory

Ryan didn't know his parents, as shown in canon. He grew up in the area between the LA Boneyard and Vault City. He trained with The Couriers for many years, scored high in Tactical Assessment, then delivered packages across Cali, Nevada, and Utah; simultaneously protected budding settlements across the land. Eventually went through The Divide, then shot in the head. Woke up with the Luck. Journeyed across the Mojave like a man possessed, Christopher. Change of heart at Benny, decided to be a beacon of hope for New Vegas. Won the Second Battle for Hoover Dam. He ruled over New Vegas for 6.5 years, steadily improving the infrastructure. He's 37 years old.

Ryan
-not arrogant
-excited by new things
-often youthful, despite his age
-black and white morals
-knows where he stands
-not humble, but knows his limits
-patient from years in the Mojave
-diplomatic/friendly
-personality can pull quick turns
-possesses great knowledge of America's history
-knows the past teaches lessons
-desires to leave the past behind
~~-wishes to be left alone, relax, walk away from it all~~
-knows he can never find peace
-torn between choosing selfish pursuits and New Vegas
-holds New Vegas in high regards, chooses to be strong for the people under his flag
-deeply affected by The Divide, even more so by Ulysses on The Lonesome Road

Christopher
-arrogant
-boastful
-unafraid
-"raging storm"
-represents all of Ryan's vengeful hatred
-pugnacious
~~-liable to take over for Ryan when provoked~~
~~-unnoticed by Ryan, but clearly seen by those around him~~
-Ryan's past self: the voice of who he was
-source of most of Ryan's nightmares, what he did while he was Christopher
-Ryan can't control it, vents from time to time with outbursts of temper
-Christopher was out during the fight for Hoover Dam, during his final dealings with the Think Tank, and while dueling against Ulysses
-~~Not~~ an actual personality, and ~~but~~ a symbol for Ryan's darkness/manifestation of his rage

So down below this box is the finale to the fight between Ryan and Ate. I wrote it super early and fell in love with it, since I knew that I wanted to story to end not with a flash, but a bang. And some Russian Roulette. Honestly, I don't have much else to say about this scene, other than nothing in particular inspired it, no video game or movie or anything. I just kinda... thought of it, y'know?

His head snapped up to stare Ate in the eyes. Then he spoke one word. "No."

And then his world exploded.

Wind whipped around him with the fury of a hurricane, tossing dirt and debris everywhere. He felt himself slowly rise into the air like a string attached to his back was pulling him up. The skies grew dark as lightning flashed in storm clouds above him, but no rain came down. He stopped ascending and looked around with eyes filled with rage. Ate was on the ground before him, staring in awe, seemingly unable to move.

He floated down to where she weakly stood, his feet touching the ground just before her. The world returned to normal, the wind dying down and the clouds retreating. Ate was still frozen in place her eyes not breaking contact with Ryan's.

He drew Lucky from the holster on his hip. Ate followed his motions with eyes stuck open by terror. He slowly spun the revolving cylinder and withdrew all the bullets but two, one on either side of the chamber. He closed the cover of the cylinder with a soft click, and pulled back the hammer.

He rolled the gun down his arm, causing the positions of the bullets to be unknown to either of them. "Let's see how lucky I still am," he said without emotion. He pointed the gun at his head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He spun the cylinder again and fired, this time without any hesitation.

She couldn't nod, but he could see the answer in her eyes plain as day.

"No."

He pulled the trigger.

Alright, that's everything. So down here I'd like to just say thanks for reading everything, even though this last bit probably won't be seen by everyone. I'd like to give thanks to my wonderful friends on Skype who helped me talk through a lot of the things in this story, especially for the last two chapters, since my brain was essentially kill because of playing Undertale. (Which, can I just say, is totally worth the $10 that you would spend to get it on Steam. That game was literally a stun gun to my mind, and it was all I could think about for a solid two weeks after I finished it.) Anyway, I'm out of stuff to say here, so I'll just point down to the comments section and recommend posting there if you have any questions for me regarding the story, or anything, really. There's like a 99% chance that I'll answer your question if you comment it here.
So, uh, thanks for playing...?
before anyone asks, no there won't be a sequel
95% chance of that

Reversal of Fortune

by Lucien Chance

Prologue: Guess Whose Luck Keeps on Rolling?

Chapter 1: New World "Blues"

Chapter 2: Unusual!

Chapter 3: Put a Spell on You

Chapter 4: Don't Shoot the Messenger

Chapter 5: I Forgot to Remember to Forget

Chapter 6: Cuts Like Knives

Chapter 7: Reflections

Chapter 8: Veni, Vidi, Vici

Epilogue: The House Always Wins

Author's Notes