> Fallout: Equestria - Chain Breaker
>  by BurningLeaf
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's hard to put into words how exactly I feel about having to write this.

On the one hoof it's a very important story about how easy it is for the world to change from a magical land of sunshine and happiness into an irradiated hell-hole of death and scorn, but on the other it's a very personal story that involves a many events that I myself and many others would rather forget. 

But unfortunately, it seems that many people that I at least pretend to respect want me to do this, so if I don't then I'm gonna have to deal with them constantly whining in my ears about how I'm basically robbing Equestria of the story of how it was almost brought down to its knees, but was then saved by a pack of idiots with no idea what the were really doing. 

There's obviously a lot more to it than that, but really, the entire story is too complicated and full of, shall we say 'graphic' moments that will make likely you feel just a bit uneasy (so imagine what it was like actually being there) for it to be seen as any kind of entertainment without being some kind of masochist. 

If this story is really going to serve as some kind of historical documentation of the events of my life then I feel like it's important for me to be as accurate as my memory will permit me to be. That being said, it also means that this is going to be about as non-child-friendly as you can imagine, so proceed with caution. Anyway, if this is being read as a history lesson then there are a few things that you will need some context for.   

First off, the wasteland. A bit more then two hundred years, from when I'm writing this, the world went to war. The ponies of Equestria on one side, and the zebra of the Zebra Lands on the other. This was a decades-long conflict that claimed to lives of hundreds of thousands on both side, soldiers and civilians alike, and eventually a last-ditch effort was made by the two mighty empires that led to total destruction, the creation of the wasteland and no-one really winning. The reason for this horrific loss of life and land? A resource shortage, superstition and a bunch of greedy bastards. 

The only ponies who survived without turning into ghouls were the ones that were smart enough to sign up with Stable-Tech, the pre-war company that built underground shelters meant to save as many ponies as possible. It worked, just not completely. They only built around a hundred and thirty, nowhere near enough to store all the ponies in Equestria, and a lot of them malfunctioned in one way or another. But still, even though they didn't save everyone, they still save enough. 

Over the last two hundred years most stables opened and the ponies inside ventured out into the wasteland, some went on to create settlements, others tried their best to save Equestria from the terrible fate it had led itself to, and others were forced to succumb to the horrors that awaited them, turning them into raiders and such.   

Most of the ponies that tried to make things better failed and died like everypony before then, but there were a few who actually did have a long-lasting impact, the most prominent being the Light Bringer. She was the pony that went to war against the biggest superpowers in the wasteland and somehow beat all of them. She ended most of the violence and ushered in a new era of clear skies and land that wasn't irradiated and could actually grow food in it. She herself did the same thing that I'm doing now with this story, and since what she did was debatably more important and impressive then most of what I did, I thought that this would just be rubbing salt into an open wound, but I suppose it is a tale worth knowing. 

So I guess it's time to stop putting it off and start talking about me. I am probably the least qualified pony to be deemed a hero. I'm not kind, generous, honest or even particularly brave. I'm more like stubborn, angry and a bit arrogant. Yet somehow I ended up practically being forced into the role and I've never really been to keen on it. 

I don't like everypony knowing who I am, being asked for help forever little problem and lest of all, having all of them relying on me to do the right thing, when they don't even really seem to understand that they see as the right thing might not be the right thing for someone else. I never really intentionally did anything that could be called selfless or heroic like the Light Bringer, they just think that I did, when really I'm just a slightly capable pony who does everything for himself, it just happens to help some other ponies as well. 

Even my name reflexes my lack of honour and duty, showing that I would rather attack from the shadows than fight fairly. That’s been something that I've exploited to its fullest throughout my life. Speaking of which, I should probably stop dawdling and actually get this started. 

My name is Vanish Strike and this is my story.
> Chapter 1: Botched Operation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don’t really know how I managed to get myself into a situation as stupid as this. Somehow I managed to screw up and had to literally levitate myself to the ceiling and use a stealth-buck to hide 3 feet above the meeting between the leader of a travelling group of slave traders, and the sort of leader of the faction of griffon mercenaries who owned this building. The griffon was in the middle of trying to convince the dark green stallion to pay them double for an escort to their next major sale, one that I myself had set up. It wasn't actually a slave trade, but rather several turrets that had been rigged to open fire on them whilst I attempt to free the slave without being caught, killed and turned into the practice dummy on their shooting range. 

Well, that was supposed to be what was going to happen, but I had known Cross Wings for a quite some time and I was smart enough to realize that, as long as the caps were both genuine and plentiful, he’d shoot his own father in the back. In fact, I had my suspicions that he actually did. 

I was in a decently sized office with nothing very interesting in it. A simple desk with a terminal that I was sure Cross Wings had no idea how to use, and a swivel chair that the scruffy, black and light grey griffon with a sheriffs hat was sat in as he fed the slaver some crap about how showing up with them would somehow intimidate the buyer into paying them a bit extra. There was a medium-sized window right behind that, a couple of filing cabinets against the wall to the right of the door, and a safe in the corner of the room that was open and had nothing in it, which pissed me off because that pretty much defeats the whole purpose of a safe. 

I shook my head as I reminded myself of my sister's lecture about how not everyone else thinks the same way as me, that I shouldn’t dislike them for it and...   

‘Wait, why the fuck is this more important than getting out of here?’ I yelled internally, making a mental note to hit myself later for going off on such a stupid tangent, on top of the five I was already going to give myself for this entire Celestia damned plan. 

I turned my attention back to trying to figuring out how I was going to deal with this situation without getting both myself and all the griffons thoroughly murdered. I had no real options for what I could do next that wouldn’t result in a big shootout once my stealth-buck ran dry. 

If I dropped down onto the desk and started shooting then the others outside the door would hear and come running. If I tried sneaking out then I would have to figure out how to either be subtle about opening and slipping out of a door that was barely four inches behind the pony I was trying to avoid being seen by, or open the window and somehow prevent the harsh wind outside from doing anything to alert them. 

And if I just held myself to the ceiling and waited until they had both left the room I would have maybe two seconds after the stealth-buck died before I either hear the slaver leader shout out ‘Who the fuck is this guy on the ceiling?’ or have the oh-so-delightful pleasure of Cross Wings saying something sarcastic like ‘Wow, not even Vanish Strike himself has any faith in his own plan.’ 

I only had my .44 magnum revolver with me because it was the only thing that I had any way of concealing. When I realized that I didn’t want to be left out of this conversation I didn't have any choice but to leave my other weapons in the room that I had been told to sit and wait in. I only got this much in by hiding it under the brown duster coat that disguised the beige combat armour covering my dark bluish grey body. Any shots fired would result in every slaver in the building rushing to make our acquaintance, and then introduce us to all their friendly guns. 

Obviously, my original plan wasn’t to float myself directly above the conversation, but it had somehow evolved into that. What I was going to do was get to the office before the other two, plant a sound transmitting spell in a draw, sneak back out, and listen to them from the safety the nearest unoccupied room. After that, depending on what I heard, ether dash back to were Cross Wings had told me to stay and act as if nothing had happened, or hide in a locker, wait for him to walk past, jump out, wrap my forelegs around his throat and squeeze until he stopped moving. 

Fortunately, it didn’t seem as if that would be necessary, as he was demanding to be paid a very large amount upfront, which meant that he did intend to help me, but he was still going to get this guys money. Cross Wings may have been a shady bastard, but he at least respected his own craft and wouldn't ask for more than he was worth (surprisingly). 

The small device attached to my left foreleg that was currently keeping me hidden told me that there was only ten percent charge left. 

‘Shit. I need to do something fast.’ I thought in a slight panic. ‘I could drop down on top of the slaver and hope that I’d crushed him to death. No, that wouldn’t work, I’m not heavy enough for that, and Cross Wings really doesn’t like surprises, so he'd probably cry out.’ 

Eight percent. ‘I don't have a good angle on them, so I doubt that I can hit both of them with stun spells. Urgh, even if I did, I don't have enough energy left in me to actually knock them both out cold.’ 

Six percent. ‘I could try that sleep spell that I saw that kidnapper back in Nova use. No, I only saw him use it once and I hadn’t let him live long enough to explain it to me.’ 

Five percent. And then I realized something that could work, something so simple and obvious that I added this the list of things stupid moments that I had to hit myself for. 

‘Even if I can’t shot my pistol, it's still a big hunk of steel and getting hit in the head really hard with it would probably kill a pony.’ 

Four percent. ‘Levitating myself has taken a lot out of me, I might not even have the strength to swing the gun hard enough.’ 

Three percent. ‘Even if I could knock him out, I still need to keep Cross Wings quiet.’ 

Two percent. ‘Ah fuck it.’ 

I quickly pulled the revolver out of its holster underneath my coat and flouted it down right behind the slaver head, whilst he was making a pathetic attempt to haggle with Cross Wings, who saw the gun that was enveloped in a pale purple glow, hovering right behind the slaver. His eyes widened, but thankfully he figured out what was happening pretty quickly and didn’t draw attention to it. 

I swung the large pistol with everything I had left in me and smashed it into the spinal columns leading into his skull, hoping that, if I couldn’t kill him, I could at least knock him out. However, it seemed that fortune favours the one with trust issues that force him to do very stupid things, as he went sprawling to the ground with blood erupting from the back of his head as his skull caved in on itself. Didn't even have time to scream. 

“Well shit, I didn’t know I could do that,” I said aloud as I released my telekinetic grip on myself and let gravity take me back down to the floor. Cross Wings huffed.   

“Eh, I’m not impressed.” He snorted in his usual gruff, yet slightly juvenile voice, just with that snarky undertone that never fails to make me want to buck him in the face. If he had any idea how difficult self-levitation was than he probably would be, but I really didn’t want to get into this argument with him right now. I flicked my dark purple and blue mane out of my eyes with a hoof and groaned loudly whilst turning to look away from him, not wanting to make eye contact.   

“Alright, go ahead,” I stated flatly, just wanting to get this over with. 

“Go ahead with what?” I hadn’t been expecting a response like that and look at him with a confused expression that almost matched his own. 

“You know, yell at me about how I fuck everything up, smack me around a bit, point out every little thing I’ve ever done wrong to the point where I want to kill myself,” I said this as if he was already supposed to know all this. He just looked more confused and a bit disturbed.   

“What kind of assholes did you hang around with before me?” He asked. I couldn’t tell if there was any concern in his voice or if he was looking for inspiration, so I just gave a simple responded. 

“You don’t want to know.” He continued to stare for a few seconds, then chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right, I don’t.” I rolled my eyes and looked over at the corpse, deciding that if anyone in his crew were to have a key to the slave cages it would be him. I slid my .44 back into its holster on my right rear leg, lifted my duster coat over to hide it, before trotting over to his body and rooting around in the pockets of his pitifully weak barding. 

After a minute or two of rummaging, I found the key I was looking, along with a switchblade that looked so old and worn out that I could probably break it but calling it a rude name, the fake order forever slave that they had that I’d sent them, a small sack which I estimated to have around a hundred fifty caps in it, which I tossed over to Cross Wings in the hopes that it would mean that I wouldn’t need to give him an actual apology, and a different, smaller key that I assumed opened a safe somewhere in one of the wagons that they had travelled here in. 

From one of my coat pockets, I pulled a keyring with about a half dozen keys on it and added the two new ones, whilst discarding the switchblade, then remembered that I still had the empty stealth-buck strapped to my leg. I took it off and, having no more use for the small gadget, deposited it into one of the slavers pockets, wasn’t like he could object. 

“Okay, that’s enough awkward silence. What the fuck was that?” Cross Wings demanded. ‘Ah damn it. What’s wrong with awkward silence?’ 

“I was making sure that I didn’t get screwed over,” I said dryly, still not looking at him. 

“Bullshit. We’ve known each other for what, four, five years now? Why would I stab you in the back?” He snapped as he walked up to me and stood to my left, more frustrated than actually angry. 

“I don’t know, money? Isn’t that way you do anything?” That remark earned me a sharp punch to the side. I took a step back, clutching my left ribs with my right foreleg. My armour had absorbed the damage, but I hadn't been expecting it. 

“Why don’t you trust me?” He was almost yelling at this point, his amber eyes glaring with genuine anger. I let out a sigh, a bit disappointed in myself for what I was about to say. 

“Can’t this conversation wait until we deal with the rest the rest of the slavers?” I said, trying to get this whole plan back on track. 

“No. No, it can’t, Vanish. I may be a money hungry prick, but I’m not a complete scum bag, and you know that. I know you have this weird thing where you can’t trust anyone, but we’re friends. So why in hell would you think that I’d do something like?” I’m a bit ashamed to admit that the first thing that went through my head upon hearing this was ‘Since when were we friends?’ 

I sighed in defeat. I had known for a while now that eventually I was going to have to tell him about why I had trust issues, but I wasn’t planning to do it under these kinds of conditions.   

“When I was just a colt, I believed in the whole ‘strength in numbers, power of friendship’ thing, and it always ended in us getting screwed over. Eventually, me and a few others got into a situation similar to this one, but the guy who was doing what you’re doing now did sell us out for the caps. I assume the worst in ponies because I’ve seen the worst in ponies, I don’t trust them because they don’t give me a reason to, and I do shit like this because I’ve been through too much to just let my life repeat itself.” 

Cross Wings stared at me with his beak slightly ajar, and then a looked puzzled.   

“Us?” I froze in place. ‘How many times was I going to slip up and fuck myself over today?’ I sighed again and looked away. This was something I really didn’t want to remember, let alone talk about. 

“You and I both know that I don't talk about this kind of thing for a reason, so just drop it.” Yeah, I sounded like a bit of a dick, but it was better than actually talking to him about it. Cross Wings was silent for a few more agonizingly long seconds. If I was lucky he’d figure it out on his own and I wouldn’t have to elaborate. 

“…So, should I tell all the slaver that we worked something out and that they should go wait outside?” ‘Oh thank Celestia. We were going to deal with the slavers now, and my personal history, hopefully, never.’ 

“If we do that, we’re gonna have to give them all their weapons back, if we don’t, they’ll get suspicious and I can guarantee you that at least half of them snuck stuff in. Probably not very impressive stuff, but still, we can’t be too careful.” I responded as if the previous conversion had never happened. Cross Wings groaned “Why do ponies never trust us?” 

“Would you trust us?” I responded in an emotionless tone. He let out a soft laugh.   

“No, not for a second.” 

“Well, there’s your answer.” He smirked, and shook his head, trying to come up with an idea that wouldn't end in us getting shot. 

BANG. 

The loud crack of a gun firing filled the air. Both our heads instantly snapped to face the door, but we didn’t move from where we were standing. Then a second shot and a third and a scream of pain and fear rang out from behind the door. I levitated out my .44 and dashed over and pressed myself to the wall to the right of the door, gripped the doorknob with my magic and looked back to Cross Wings, who was at his desk, looking through the draws. He quickly found what he was looking for and pulled it out. A 12.7mm pistol. 

It was made to be used by griffons, so rather than the traditional mouth grip that my gun had, it had a handle so that he could hold it with his claws and had the appearance of a stranded militaristic pistol with all the edges were rounded off. 

He jumped over the desk and leaned against the wall on the other side of the door and nodded to me. I telekinetically twisted the doorknob and flung it open. In an instant, Cross Wings was gone. I looked down both ends of the hall, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

To the left, there were two dead ponies, a mare, and a stallion. To the right were another dead pony and a very much alive griffon who had been shot through her right foreleg. I recognized her as one of the mercs that Cross Wings had told to keep an eye out for any slavers trying to course trouble. She looked at me, gave a weak smile and pointed a claw at the dead ponies. 

“That mare was the second in command. She was getting pissed about how long they were taking and wanted to get in on the talk. When I told her no she got a bit ahead of herself. Don’t worry ‘bout me, jab of med-x and I’ll be fine.” She said in a surprisingly calm voice. I didn’t believe that she was fine, but these talons mercs were built tough, so I highly doubted that she would die. 

“Do they have any way of getting to their weapons?” I asked with a sense of urgency.   

“Well, Cross Wings still has the key, but I did see one mare who looked pretty tweaked. It could have been Mint-als so she might be able to crack the lock.” 

‘Fuck.’ I needed to get to the closet where they had locked all the guns before she did. 

I turned and ran down the hall, hopping over the two bodies and continuing down the hall, darting around corners trying to find my way to the weapons closet, until I took a right and skidded to a stop. 

Three slavers dead ahead, all wearing similar barding to their boss, two earth ponies stallions, one a dark yellow with a brown mane and tail with a pair of hoof cuffs for a cutie mark. The other a deep red without a mane. I couldn’t tell if his cutie mark was bloodstain or if that was a wound.   

The last was a soft blue unicorn mare with a wispy, darker blue mane and tail, with a few silver streaks. She was the odd one out since she had an image of a cocktail drink on her flank. This meant that, before she was a slave driver, she had either been a bartender, or a drunk.   

The other major tip-off that she wasn't as crazy as the other two was her eyes. Deep blue and lacking the same deranged twitch that all the mad ponies seemed to have. 

Only two of them had guns, the yellow earth ponies with a pistol hanging from around his neck on a chain and the unicorn had a small sub-machine flouting in front of her muzzle. The last one had surprisingly large knife gripped in his teeth. They all looked at me, but for some reason, they didn’t immediately start shooting.   

“Are there any griffon chasing you?” Asked the unicorn mare with a cautious tone. It took me a second to figure out just what she was asking, but when I finally did I was rather taken aback. 

‘Do...do they think I’m on their side just because I’m not a griffon?’ I quickly recovered from my mild shock. 

“Er, no, it’s just me.” I was gonna have to play along for now. If I was lucky I could use these idiots to find to Mint-als mare and put her down before the slavers could get their stuff back. 

“Okay, come on. We need to find Caramel, fast.” She said, with a sense of worry in her voice. 

“Oh, you’re shitting me. We’re not going back to find that drugged up kid. We need to get all our guns back and blow these griffon fuckers away.” Yelled the stallion with the pistol.   

‘She's just a child? Well, that changes things.’ I was going to have to try and keep her away from the other slavers until the end of the confrontation. True, I wasn’t above killing somepony young, but only under certain circumstance, like if one's aiming a gun at me... or running at me with a clever.   

The unicorn looked at him with an icy glare. 

“That kid is our best chance at getting through that door, the Mint-als help her to concentrate on stuff like this.” She snapped back. The earth pony looked as if he was trying to hide his fear as he attempted to stand his ground (but was failing). 

“Well, can’t we just smash the door in?” He questioned. 

“Because we don’t have any way of doing that without giving half our guys concussions.” The stallion opened his mouth to continue his protest but closed it upon realizing he didn’t really have any argument. 

“Alright, so where do we find her?” The unicorn's expression softened slightly. 

“Last place I saw her was in that waiting room that the griffon in the cowpony hat told us to wait. There were some griffons in there with the rest, so all we can do is hope that more of them died than us.”   

‘Yeah right, have you ever fought a griffon? They react so quickly that it’s like shooting at something that already knows everything that you’re going to do.’ 

“Alright, let’s head back there and look around,” I stated, attempting to act in a manner that wouldn't arouse suspicion. Thankfully I’m a better actor than I give myself credit for because the others all nodded and ran off down the hall. I let out a sigh of relief before following. 



We galloped down the halls, darting around corners, trying to make our way back to the waiting room. I could only thank Celestia that we didn’t run into any griffons on the way... well, no alive one. I counted three dead griffons and eleven dead slaver ponies. If I remembered correctly there were roughly between thirty to thirty-five slavers in the whole caravan and so far I had seen fourteen corpses, so, as far as I could tell, we were almost halfway done. 

I wasn’t worried about running out of griffons to back me up. There may have only been a bit under than twenty, but the Talons had rather high standards for its mercs, and since they had Cross Wings looking out for them I didn’t think I'd have anything to worry about. Even if they also had to give up their weapons to make things even to try and calm the slavers down after they threw a fit upon hearing the rules about guests, they were still a tough bunch. 

The unicorn ran to a door and pulled it open with her magic. We all dashed into a large room with several chairs, couches and corpse, two ponies and one griffon, all scattered about. 

“Caramel. Are you here? Caramel.” She called out, frantically looking in every direction, trying to spot this ‘Caramel ’ pony. 

“I-I’m here.” Came a soft, timid voice from the other side of the room. We all looked over to see that it came from a upturned couch with one end held up slightly by the seat of a desk chair. A small, golden brown coloured earth pony mare with a puffy, slightly curly, cream coloured mane slowly poked her head out from under the couch. 

“Is it safe to come out?” She asked, clearly very scared. Her face held a look of weariness, depression, and fright, and her pinkish red eyes had bag underneath them. 

I knew this face. It was the face of the low after a good high. She was undoubtedly the Mint-als mare. 

The baby blue unicorn dashed over and crouched down next to her. 

“It’s all going to be alright, but we need your help. The griffons locked up all our guns and we need you to pick the lock so that we can get them and finish them all off.” The young mare crawled out from under the couch. She wasn’t a filly but she wasn’t near old enough to be called a teenager. I’d say she was roughly eleven years old. Her cutie mark was a red decorative ribbon tied into a bow, meaning that she likely also hadn’t started life with the same fate as all the other slaver. My guess was that she only joined up with them to help pay for her addiction. 

“B-but I don’t have any Mint-als left. I can’t unlock anything without them.” The older mare’s eyes went wide as the colour drained from her face. They couldn’t get through the door. Perfect. 

“Then let’s just get out of here. Screw the slaves and screw the buyers.” I stated. If I was lucky I could convince them to ditch the slaver career and maybe I wouldn’t have to kill all of them. The unicorn seemed to snap out of her stupor and looked at me. She stared for a few seconds before a look of determination appeared on her face. 

“Yeah, you’re right. This isn’t worth it.” She turned back to the younger pony. “Come on Caramel, maybe we can find a town that needs some extra ponies.” I don’t think she really believed what she was saying, but I understood why she said it. 

She wanted to reassure the kid, give her some form of hope. I, myself, had been the recipient of such lies before and couldn’t really say that they worked, but the young mare's look of fear quickly disappeared and was replaced with a rather weak smile. 

This lie had worked. 

“The hell you’re leaving, you still have a debt to pay.” The pistol stallion barked angrily. The child let out a startled squeak and hid behind to older mare. The blue unicorn stared at the stallion with narrow eyes and a hardened face. 

“What are you talking about? The last job pays back the what was left, this one's just for insurance.” She stated, more confused and pissed off than nervous. 

“The last of what you owe, yeah. But she still has to pay for all those Mint-als.” He snarled, a devilish smirk spreading across his face. The blue unicorn's eyes widened. She turned and looked down to the child cowering behind her. 

“You... You told me you took them from the slaves.” She said in a quivering voice. 

“I did, I did, I swear.” She was panicking. 

“Yeah, but no one ever said that you didn’t have to pay for them. Isn’t that right, Carve?” The so far mute pony with the knife nodded in agreeance. These guys were trying to make them stay, presumably so they could be used as meat shields. 

I’d heard enough to know that these guys weren’t going to be reasonable. 

I backed up a few paces whilst they were still trying to blackmail and threaten the two mares. Thankfully they didn’t notice. 

My pistol was more than enough to deal with them both with no problem, but the ammo for this thing wasn’t exactly common, and these two weren’t worth the waste. I saw that the yellow slaver still had the pistol hanging from around his neck and an idea struck me. 

I telekinetically grasped both it and the chain it was attached to and tightened it whilst pulling the gun up so that it was pressed to the side of the knife ponies head. 

BANG 

The red ponies fell down with a stream of blood trailing behind him. The yellow one started to go pale. He retched a few times as I chocked the life out of him until his body went limp, his head still held up by the chain that I gripped in my magic. I released it and he fell to the ground with a loud thud. That was eighteen slavers dead. 

I looked over to the two mares, the older one was staring at the bodies with a shocked expression, the younger one was completely terrified, shaking and trying to hide underneath the others tail. 

The blue unicorn quickly shook off her shock and levitated her sub-machine to point at me. I grabbed the gun with my own magic and gave it a hard tug to the side, pointing the barrel at the wall. She hadn’t been prepared for that and lost her grip in the weapon. She glared at me in an attempt to look fearsome, but I could see the silent panic attack she was having. I could just take the gun and run off, leaving them to their own devices, but that would pretty much guarantee their deaths. I sighed. 

“That shot probably alerted someone, and since seeing this will cause both sides to start shooting at us, we should get moving.” Her eyes widened. 

“W-wait, you’re actually going to help us?” 

“I know, I’m not happy about it either, but my conscience dictates it, so I guess I have to.” I deadpanned. She stared at me with her mouth ajar. Caramel slowly stuck her head out from behind the dumbstruck older mare. 

“Are you going to hurt us?” ‘Celestia damned, am I really that scary?’ I rolled my eyes and looked down at her. 

“If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have killed those two.” I pointed a hoof at the corpses. 

The blue mare shook her head and gave me an uneasy look. 

“Why should we trust you? You’re a slaver as well, and you’re a murderer.” My face hardened. Accusations like these had gotten a lot of ponies on my bad side. 

“I'm not a slaver. I was planning to free the slaves. You know how? By leading you idiots right into a firing range and slaughter you all.” Once again, her eyes widened and face went pale. I took a step towards her. She tried to back away, but the younger pony behind her was completely petrified and prevented her from moving. 

“And you know what?” I took another step. 

“I wouldn’t consider that to be murder.” Another step. 

“I would consider that to be a form of making this damned wasteland just a little bit better.” One more step. My muzzle was barely an inch from hers.   

“Would you disagree?” I stared coldly into her eyes. She was quivering horribly, but still rooted to the spot. 

I drew back and softened my expression. She hadn't taken her fear-filled eyes away from my own, causing me to sigh again. 

“Even if you don’t trust me, you still have a better chance with me than with anyone else in this place. I’m not gonna tell you that I’m a good guy, but I’m your best chance.” I offered her a hoof. “Both you and her.” She stopped shivering and gazed at it. 

Slowly she reached out and took it with her own. I pulled her to her hooves and looked down at the kid. She still hadn’t moved out the ball that she’d curled up into. I crouched down to her so we were both at the same eye level, trying and failing to make eye contact. 

“Welcome to reality, kid. It’s cold, cruel and full of ponies that would probably take this opportunity to do something terrible to you both.” I realized that this kind of approach wasn’t going to work, so I was gonna have to change my tone. 

“Er… But not me.” ‘Real smooth, dipshit.’ It seemed to be enough to get her to finally look at me and loosened up a bit, despite my lack of speechcraft. If I could keep this up, I was golden. 

“You can’t get by in life if you don’t see the good in ponies. If you only ever look out for yourself you're going to go completely insane. If you don’t trust anyone then how can you trust yourself?” I felt like the biggest hypocrite in the wasteland, even if I was just giving her a ‘reassuring lie’. 

“If you can tell right from wrong, and you can act on what you believe to be right than you can be trusted. You’ve seen what I see to be right, what do you think of it?” I held out a hoof, looking right into her eyes. She stared back at me and after a few seconds took it. 

“Well, ain’t this heart-warming.” Came a snide voice from the door. I turned my head to look at Cross Wings standing the doorway, leaning against the frame. He had an assault carbine in his claws, his pistol in a holster on the left side of his chest, a sheathed machete on the right side and another gun that I couldn’t see properly slung over his back. Caramel let out a startled squeak and hid behind me whilst the blue unicorn tensed and readied herself to jump at him. 

“Wait, wait. He’s fine.” I said quickly, waving around a forehoof. She relaxed her body a bit but didn’t get out of her pouncing position. 

“Making friends, are we?” He asked in an especially dickish manner. 

“Sort of,” I replied with a frown. 

“Well, friend of yours, a friend of mine. Names Cross Wings.” He said in a surprisingly jaunty manner. The blue mare stood up straight, looking a bit confused. 

“Blue Lagoon, and that’s Caramel Cream.” She said, trying to be as emotionless as possible. 

“You're kidding me, Her name’s 'Caramel Cream'? Well didn’t she have creative parents.” Said Cross Wings, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. I had to admit that her name being her colour scheme was rather silly. Blue Lagoon look a bit taken aback by this comment, then a look of realization appeared on her face. She turned to me. 

“And you are?” ‘Oh yeah, I never told her my name.’ 

“Vanish Strike.” Cross Wings smirked in a way that I really didn’t like. 

“Oh, don’t so modest, Mr Nightkin.” Both the mares gasped and looked at me. ‘Oh, thanks a fucking lot Cross Wings.’   

“Y-you’re the Nightkin. The one that DJ PON3 talks about.” Asked Blue Lagoon. I groaned loudly and looked anywhere but at them. 

“Yes.” 

“The one who turns invisible and goes around freeing slaves, a-and killing raiders.” Asked Caramel in a timid yet excited way. 

“Yes.” 

“The one defended the town of Warm Spring from that gang of explosive nut jobs. What were they called, the Powder ponies?” Said Cross Wings in as condescending a tone as possible. I glared at him, making the silent promise to whack around the back of the head later. 

“Yes” 

“The one who-” 

“Can this please wait until we’re not in a place full of angry slaver ponies that want to kill us?” I snapped. I really didn’t want to be reminded of all the crap I’d done that had earned me a segment on one of DJ PON3's radio news reports about all the happenings in the wasteland. 

“Oh, alright. Here, catch.” Cross Wings took the gun on his back, a scoped .308 rifle, and tossed it to me, which I court in my magic. 

‘Finally, a gun with a bit of range.’ I slung my rifle around my neck and looked back to Cross Wings as he tossed a sheathed combat knife to me. I caught it and brought it round to strap it to small clip on the armour covering my chest. 

“The rest of the Talons should be able to get to their stuff pretty easily, so we’ll be able to clear this place out pretty quickly.” My blood went cold. I stared at him as told me that there was a Hellhound downstairs. 

“Cross Wings. For the love of Celestia, Luna and whoever the hell else. Did you leave the door to the guns unlocked.” I already knew the answer, but maybe I could get very lucky for once and be wrong. 

“Well, yeah.” 

‘… Shit.’ 

I didn’t have the time to yell at him. I didn’t have the time to do anything. I just throw the sub-machine gun back to Blue Lagoon, turned for the door and run like mine and a lot of other lives depended on it… because they did. 

I did have an idea where the gun closet was, but I didn’t exactly know the layout of the building, so I was just running around trying to see if I could recognize anything.   

I heard gunfire ahead to the left. I sprinted towards the sound whilst levitating out my .44, stopped just before rounding the corner and slowly peered around. Three griffons, one dead, and five ponies, none with guns, but I saw a few knives and one or two batons. There was a 9mm pistol on the floor, but it was probably empty. 

I raised my revolver and aimed at the back of the head of the biggest and therefore most intimidating pony and fired. 

His head exploded into gore as his body fell down. The other ponies and even the griffons looked at me in shock. I aimed my pistol at the next slaver, who was still staring at me like an idiot and fired again, this time into his neck. As he went down everyone finally figured out whose side I was on and resumed their conflict. The slavers charged at me but were quickly set upon by the griffons.   

One of the griffons rammed a knife into one of the slaver eyes, and the other slammed a baton into another’s head, which cracked open. The last one looked back at the two griffons and began to panic. 

He turned back to me, presumably with the intention of running past me, and was met with the barrel of a revolver. One shot and that made twenty-three. 

The two griffons look to me, one with his beak open to say something, but I didn’t stay to listen. I ran right past them and rounded the next corner to see a flight of stairs leading to the ground floor. I practically jumped down them and turned to continue down the hall but stopped abruptly. 

Four ponies, more than fifteen meters ahead. Two with combat shotguns, one with a hunting rifle, and one with a large wooden bat. They had gotten to the gun closet first. 

‘Ah, Celestia fuck you with a blazing spike bat.’   

They hadn’t noticed me. I crouched down and levitated my rifle around to look through the scope. The one that intimidated me the most was the rifle pony, so I lined up the crosshairs on her head. She noticed me and yelled at the others right as I pulled the trigger. Twenty-four. 

This action was, again, met with them staring in shock, but they recovered quicker than the others. I slid the bolt back, ejected the empty .308 shell, pushed it back into place and aimed. 

One of the shotgun ponies took a shot but was still too far away to be able to properly hit me. I looked through the scope again and fired at the close of the two shotgun ponies, this time through his chest. He fell down in-between the other two ponies, who were running toward me at a full gallop. 

I pulled the bolt again and prepared for the next shot, but they were to close for me to snipe them, so I did one of the few things I could do when ponies get too close. 

The mare with the bat was nearer to me, but the stallion with the shotgun was more of a threat. I magically pushed the gun forward until the barrel jabbed him between the eyes and pulled the trigger, reducing his head to nothing more than a red blur. The slaver with the bat was completely unfazed by her allies death and continued charging at me. 

I couldn’t aim at her properly, so I just levitated the gun up, twisted the gun in mid-air and without properly aiming, fired it down at her. The bullet barely grazed her, leaving a long red mark down her left side, which did nothing to slow her down as she closed the distance between us and swung her bat, striking me on the side. My armour prevented the bat itself from doing any damage, but there was still an immense amount of pain as if I had just been stabbed. It only took me a second to figure out way. 

“What kind of cheap asshole only puts one nail in a bat?” I screamed out, more in anger than pain. Her bat was still lodged in my side, so she couldn’t really do anything, meaning that I had an opening. 

I swung my hunting rifle and cracked her over the head with it as she attempted to yank her bat out of my ribs. She released the bat and stumbled a bit, trying to regain her sense of balance. I flipped the floating gun around to press the end of the barrel at her head and sent the last bullet into her skull. Twenty-seven. 

I dropped the empty rifle and staggered into a wall to try and hold myself on my hooves. The nail was still embedded in my side, holding the bat up. At the very least this gave me something to grip onto. 

I grasped the entire thing in my magic and braced myself. Clenching my teeth to point where I thought they might break, I yanked on the bat as hard as I could, ripping the damned thing out of me and sending it and red trail of my own blood flying about twenty feet down the hall. My coat was left with a small hole surrounded with a crimson stain that was growing larger by the second.   

My entire torso felt like somepony had stabbed me with something much bigger and much more phallic. Pressing my hoof to the wound to stop the bleeding, I allowed myself to drop to the floor, breathing heavily. 

I activated my magic to reach into my coat pocket and levitated out a small flask containing a pink, cloudy liquid. Pulling the cork out, I levitated the health potion to my lips and drank half of it in one gulp. It tasted like irradiated dog piss, but that didn’t matter. 

What did was the slight energy surge it caused throughout my body, and more importantly, took away some of the pain. I bought the vile around and poured the remaining liquid over the hole in my skin. It wasn’t a very strong potion, but it was enough to get me back onto my hooves… took me two tries, but on my hooves, nonetheless. 

I looked down at my still empty rifle and levitated it up off the floor. Having ejecting the empty clip, I went back into my pockets to find a full one. After a few seconds of digging, I was rewarded with a full clip of hollow pointed .308 rounds, which I quickly slammed into the gun. 

I couldn’t rest for any longer than I already had. I needed to take out as many slavers as I could before all the griffons were whipped out. I couldn’t allow them to walk free after all the shit that happened here. 

As I finally regained my full composure, I looked past the bodies, to the end of the hall. There were a few griffon corpses in front of an open door that I recognized as the closet where they stored all the guns. I was about to make my way over to it when I heard very faint hoof steps behind me. 

‘Somepony's trying to be sneaky.’   

I spun around and readied my rifle, only to be greeted with the barrel of a Celestia damned grenade rifle. The pony on the other side of the weapon was a green unicorn mare with brown mane and a cocky smirk that was somehow ten times more rage inducing than anything Cross Wings could ever imagine. I groaned and released my magical grip on the rifle, which she then picked up with her own magic. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” She sarcastically questioned. 

“Oh, wow, isn’t that an original bad guy line.” If this bitch was gonna hold me up than the least I could do was make sure she didn’t enjoy it. She huffed in slight frustration but managed maintained me grin. 

“So, since I just saw you kill those guys, it would only be fair if I got to kill you next.” I blinked a few time. 

“I'm sorry, I have to know. What kind of mental disability do you have that makes you think that it's a good idea to kill someone with a grenade launcher from barely a foot away?” She grimaced in announce again, this time losing her smirk of pride at having captured an already injured pony with an explosive weapon. 

“Oh, I see. You’re trying to make me angry and loss my focus so that you can take me out, right?” I was going to respond with another sarcastic quip, but an idea came to me, which sucked because I had already come up with a few. 

“No, I’m just distracting you. NOW.” Her expression turned from smug to surprise mixed with fear. She spun round to see that there was nothing there. As she did I drew my knife and slashed at the back of her neck as she was attempting to turn back to me.   

I didn’t cut so deep that kill her immediately, but it was enough to send her sprawling to the floor. Unfortunately, there was still enough life left in her to telekinetically fire the grenade rifle… directly up into the ceiling. 

I had no time to react, before a loud explosion and then nothing. Just the black abyss of unconsciousness. 



Footnote: level up 

Perk added: hover pony – telekinetically holding yourself in mid-air now uses 20% less magical energy
> Chapter 2: Tactical Retreat
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I slowly tried to open my eyes. It took far more strength than it had any right too and my only reward was a blur of varying colours, so I gave up and just let them stay closed. I was content to just lie there and sleep until I was either rescued or dead, but no, some prick just had to start talking about some crap that I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to, and the most annoying part was that if he was less than two steps farther away than I would have been able to ignore him. After a moment or two, I opened my eyes long enough to be able to see properly again, and what I saw coursed me to groan in frustration. Metal bars. I was in a cage.

“Fucking perfect.” Upon hearing my outburst, the talking stallion stopped his little speech.

“Well, it seems our guest has finally awoken.” He announced to some other slavers that I couldn’t see. I tried lifting my head to look around, but I estimated the amount of pain that coursed to be the equivalent of Luna throwing the moon at me.

I heard the talker stallion walking over to my cage and attempted to look at him, but was only able to get about half of him in my peripheral vision. He was a middle-aged unicorn with a silver coat, a short, stringy grey mane and a rag wrapped around his head, covering his left eye.

“What are we gonna do with him, Dust?” Asked another pony that I couldn’t see. The talker stallion - that I guess was Dust - looked over to the other pony.

“You know that guy, Red Eye, that talks through those sprite bot things? We’ll give this guy to him as a peace offering and see if he’s got any work for us.” This immediately angered me.

“That’s not happening, jackass,” I said as I finally found enough strength to raise my head to glare at him. He looked a bit taken aback by my uproar and drew away from my cage, possibly out of a fear that I might bite him.

“Well, er, r-regardless of how you feel about it, you still our prisoner and you have no say.” He stated, attempting to reinsert his control over the situation.

“If you think that Red Eye will give you a placement in his army just because you gave him one slightly new slave then we’re all gonna end up his prisoners by day's end.” He smirked at this.

“Oh no, he wouldn’t do that for just any slave, but he will for you.”

“And whys that?” ‘Please don’t know. Please don’t know. Please don’t know.’

“Because you are the ‘fabled ’ Nightkin.” ‘FUCK!’  The only ways that he could have known this was either if he or one of the ponies he was talking to overheard Cross Wings call me by that name, or the far more likely answer.

I slowly turned my head to look at his friends and sure enough there she was. Blue Lagoon stood there with five others around her, one of which was cowering behind her, attempting to hide from me.

I gave her a stern look, but not an angry one. I couldn’t really be angry at her for selling me out, seeing as how she had only known me for about ten minutes, during which she had witnessed me kill two ponies. I could, however, be disappointed in her going back to the slavers and the far worse act of bringing Caramel with her.

I looked away from her to focus on my escape. If I was going to break out of here than I was going to need all my strength back, meaning that I was gonna have to play along for now. I turned my head to look at my surroundings. We were in the middle of nowhere, just the serrated rock and rotted tree corpses that littered every part of the dead landscape that was modern Equestria. Enough time had passed for the evening to transcend into the night and the wind had just about calmed to a breeze. I looked back to Dust.

“Alright fine, I’m the Nightkin, you’re taking me Red Eye, blah blah blah. Now shut up and let me sleep.” He looked as if he was going to say something, but by the time his mouth opened my head was back on the floor of the cage and I was out for the next few hours.



I somehow managed to wake without opening my eye. The fact that my head was no longer throbbing and that I felt considerably warmer than I had when I fell asleep meant that it was now daytime. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times to properly wake myself up. I was still in the cage, but it seemed to be moving (just not very fast). I looked in the direction we were going and saw that my cage was in a wagon being pulled by two earth ponies, a mare, and a stallion.

To the right, there were two earth ponies, a stallion armed with a sawed-off shotgun and mare with an assault rifle. To the left was Dust with some kind of pistol in a holster on the left side of his chest, talking to Blue Lagoon, who still had that sub-machine gun strapped to her right hind leg, and Caramel was trying to be as close to Blue Lagoon as possible without being trampled.

I couldn't see her very well, but it was obvious that she hadn't had any chems and was very desperate for some kind of fix. She was shaking lightly, had massive bags under her eyes and seemed to be sweating. It was a sorry sight, but for the time being, not an important one.

I turned to see what else was in the wooden vehicle. A couple of sacks that I guessed contained food, a few ammo boxes and a few different types of rifle and shotgun - all unloaded - were resting on top a large, rectangular footlocker, which caused me to question why they didn't just put the guns into the locker instead of just leaving them lying about. I decided to ignore it for new and looked to Dust.

“Hey.” He turned his head and gave me a stern look.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked in an emotionless voice. His expression softened slightly.

“About seven hours. We’ve only been travelling for three, so it’ll be around another ten hours before we get to the nearest of Red Eye’s settlements.”

‘Okay, so I have eight hours to get out here.’ I did not want to be within a twenty-mile radius of anything to do with Red Eye. I looked over to Blue Lagoon, who was refusing to look at me.

“Hey, what happened to Cross Wings?” She still wasn’t facing at me but nodded to show she was listening.

“A little bit after you left he ran off after you, I didn’t see him again after. Apparently, he left the guns guarded, so you kind of freaked out for nothing.”

“Of bloody course I did.” I huffed. I had an unfortunate habit of running off to deal with something without getting all the information first.

“Well actually, the guards were killed by somepony who sneaked in a few grenades, so I guess you were right to be worried.” Dust commented with a smug expression. I glared at him, but he wasn’t looking at me so it didn’t have the same impact that it usually did. I looked away with a frustrated whinny and decided to focus on getting out of here.

'Red Eyes camp is only ten hours away, meaning that they won't be stopping for the night, so I won’t be able to sneak away when everyone is asleep, and I can’t bribe any of them without the others hearing. I could probably take these guys out with a few well-timed stun spells, but in this cage I’m too easy a target, and I just know that whoever gets me will spend the rest of their life banging on about they were the one who bravely and spectacularly killed the Nightkin.’

BANG

My train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a gunshot from somewhere in the general direction of up. Less then a half second later, the stallion pulling the wagon’s head exploded into blood. No one had the time to react before the same thing happened to the mare that had been next to him. I would have looked up, but the roof of the cage would have blocked my view of the sky - or rather that clouds - so there was no point. Then again, there wouldn’t have been a point even if I wasn’t in the cage since I already knew who it was.

“COME ON, JUST TRY AND HIT ME, I DARE YA.” Cross Wings' cocky voice would have normally frustrated me, but in this instance, it just filled me with relief. All the remaining slavers aimed their guns in the air and started firing at the air where Cross Wings had been a few seconds ago. I wanted for this to be over as quickly as possible, so I jumped to my hooves, turned back to the pile of unloaded guns, grabbed a rather crappy shotgun in my magic and turned back to the slaver. After taking a closer look I realized that Blue Lagoon and Caramel weren’t there anymore, but I didn’t really have the time to look around for them.

The slaver closet to me was the earth pony mare with an assault rifle in her teeth. She was focusing so hard on trying to kill Cross Wings that she didn’t notice the shotgun flying at her head. There was a loud cracking sound and a spurt of blood as the but of the gun connected with the side of her head, before she fell to the ground.

I wasn’t sure if I’d killed her or not, but at this point, I really didn’t care. If I had remembered right, there was only Dust and one other slaver left. Then Cross Wings fired another shot and I heard a cry from behind me that was far too deep to be Dust's, so I knew that now there was only his left. I look around in every direction and didn’t see him, and since I hadn’t heard any shots being fired, I guess Cross Wings couldn’t see him either.

“ALRIGHT, THAT’S ENOUGH. COME DOWN HERE OR ELSE SHE DIES.” I turned around to see a terrified Caramel coming out from behind a large boulder with a .44 magnum envelope in a silver glow pressed to the back of her head.

MY .44 magnum. She was followed by Dust with his horn coated in the same glow as the gun. He looked over at me with an expression court somewhere between fury and panic.

“And you. Drop the shotgun.” He snapped, trying to make himself seem as assertive as possible. I shot him a glare but did as he said. The shotgun hit the ground with a thud, quickly followed by a louder thud as black and grey griffon landed the dirt road next to my wagon, his large wings still poised.

His black panther coat was covered by a standard issued suit of talons armour, a dark grey jumpsuit, mostly covered in metal armour plates with a white claw emblem painted on the chest plate, and for some reason, he decided to keep his sheriffs' hat rather than wearing an actual helmet. The addition to his gear I was most pleased to see was the sniper rifle gripped in his claws, which he then dropped to the ground, coursing me let out an irritated huff.

“What the hell? You tracked us for fuck knows how many miles and risk your own life, just for this one asshole?” Yelled a very nervous Dust. Cross Wings simply smirked and gave a response that only he could come up with.

“Well, if you don’t want me to kill all your friends, don’t take my stuff,” I grumbled at this. Dust’s eye twitched a little, showing that Cross Wings was freaking him out.

“Alright, here’s what's going to happen. You’re gonna drop all your shit and fly away with your tail between your legs, or I’m gonna blow her fucking head off.” As he screamed his admittedly worrying threats, Caramel had started crying.

Her bottom lip was trembling and I could hear a few tiny whimpers. And then I looked at her eyes. She was looking at me with an unimaginable amount of fear, and even though she wasn’t saying anything, I could tell she was pleading to me to save her.

My mind went blank. My expression hardened as I looked past her to glare at the crazed stallion and did something I rarely allowed myself to do. I started talking without thinking.

“No, Dust. This is what’s going to happen.” My voice had gone from its usual deep and calm tone to a much icier one. He unlocked his shaky glare from Cross Wings and made the mistake of looking me dead in the eye. Almost immediately his desperation to get away alive with at least some of his pride intact had been completely overwhelmed by his fear.

“You’re gonna drop the gun, turn around, run away and then never stop. Because if this isn’t the last I hear of you, I am going to snap off your horn and use it to skull-fuck you right in your good eye.” By this point, it was clear that even if he did somehow kill us and get away, he would never try anything this dangerous to his health again. But I wanted to be absolutely sure, so I kept going.

“There is nowhere you can hide, no pony who can protect you, nothing can be done to stop me, because I am the 'fabled' Nightkin, remember?” He continued staring at me for a few more second before dropping my revolver to the dirt and sprinting off in the opposite direction like all of Tartaros were after him.

I continued to glare at the back of his head as he dashed off before my face returned to its usual blank expression, then turned my head to look at Caramel, who at some point had dropped to the ground, curled up into trembling ball, and started sobbing… again.

I sighed quietly and looked to Cross Wings, who had picked up his rifle and was now aiming at the fleeing stallion. I magically gripped the barrel of the gun and wrenched it upwards, so that the only thing in danger of being hit was some very unlucky bird. Thankfully though, he didn’t fire, just turned his head to give me a questioning look. I shook my head slightly.

“Believe me, if I ever see him again I’ll kill him in a heartbeat.” I redirected my eyes back to Caramel. “But seeing any more death is the last thing she needs.” He followed my gaze towards Caramel and let out a soft, almost sad sigh upon seeing her. He then slung the sniper rifle over his back and strolled over to her.

“Hey.” He said calmly. “What happened to the mare I left you with, er, Blue… something.”

“Blue Lagoon” I chimed in.

“Er, yeah, her. Where is she?” The small pony slowly raised a trembling hoof to point at the large rock that she and Dust had come out from behind just minutes ago. Cross Wings stretched out his broad wings and jumped off the ground, flapping them once to give himself enough high and momentum to land atop the rock. He looked down and stared for a few seconds before turning his head to face me.

“Er, Vanish, I reckon this is more your sort of thing.” He said in a loud and concerned voice. I sighed for probably the hundredth time within the past twelve hours and looked back over to a quietly sobbing Caramel.

“Caramel.” She looked up at me with teary eyes. “Do you know where the keys to this cage are?” Slowly she repeated her reply to Cross Wings and pointed a hoof off into the distance… in the direction Dust had run away.

‘Oh, for fuck sake.’

“Alright then,” I growled through clenched teeth.

“Blue Lagoon said you can pick locks, so do you have anything that gets me out of here?” She seemed to be a bit hesitant, but still pulled herself to her hooves and trotted over to me. She walked up to the left side of the wagon and appeared to be doing something just out of eyeshot. I lent over to peer the side of the wagon and saw that she was digging through a saddlebag that was hanging off a nail that was embedded in the wooden boards.

A few seconds later she emerged from the bag with two bobby pins and a flat head screwdriver. She strolled over to the back of the wagon and hopped up onto the end, stepping over the empty guns to get to my cage. She leaned forward, stretching her neck to place the bobby pin in the lock, but was then halted by me magically grabbing the items clenched in her teeth. She gave me a confused look.

“I’ve been cracking locks far longer than you, kid. I’ve got this.” She reluctantly released the screwdriver and bobby pins and backed up slightly to watch me work. I couldn't really see the lock properly, but since I could feel the lock with my magic that wasn’t really too much of a problem. I slid the pin into the top of the keyhole, then the screwdriver into the bottom and lightly twisted them both. Neither of them moved, so I twisted the pin to the left and tried again. This time the lock moved with them and made a click sound.

‘Finally. Something goes right for me.’ 

I gave the cage door a light push and it swung open, loudly creaking as it did. I slid the screwdriver and bobby pins into a pocket before dashing out. I run past Caramel and headed over to the rock that Cross Wings was still perched atop. I went around it, only to see the limp body of Blue Lagoon lying there with blood seeping out of a small gash on her forehead. I went over to her, gently rolled her onto her back and pressed my right ear to her exposed chest.

'Thump, thump’

There was a heartbeat. A very faint one, but still, it meant that she was alive.

“CARAMEL!” I shouted out. Within a second she was there at my side. “Go back to that bag and see if you can find any medical supplies; health potions, magical bandages, I don’t care, just find something.” Once again she looked to be completely paralyzed with fear, but this time she actually did do something. That something being to turn around and sprinted back over to the wagon.

“Cross Wings, get that cage out of the wagon and unhitch the two dead ponies.” He quickly raised his right claw to his forehead to give a salute.

“Aye, Sir!” He said in an overdramatic voice before turning and zipping off toward the wagon. I stared at his back in slight bewilderment for a few seconds before dismissing it as Cross Wings just being Cross Wings and turning my attention back to Blue Lagoon.

I examined the gash on her forehead closely; it wasn’t deep or very big but it was still bleeding. I picked up her head in my right hoof and was about to press my left to the wound, but stopped when I realized it was that doing so wouldn’t exactly be sanitary.

I turned around to see where Caramel was at, only to be greeted by her standing literally three centimetres away from my face with the saddle bag hanging out of her mouth by the strap. I lurched back slightly before shaking my head and recomposing myself.

“Anything useful in there?” She placed the bag on the ground, opened it with her hooves, reached in with her mouth and pulled out a roll of fabric that was faintly glowing a pale pink colour. I grabbed the magical bandage with my own magic but didn’t apply it to the gash just yet.

“I need to clean out the wound. Is there any water or potions or something?” She quickly dived back into the bag and rummaged for a few seconds before pulling out a vile containing a rather weak looking health potion. I grabbed that in my magic as well and moved it close to my muzzle. Flipping the vile and pointing the end towards my mouth, I clamped the cork in between my teeth and pulled it away from my face. I poured about half the content into the wound and put the cork back before placing it on the ground and rapping the bandage around her forehead.

It was barely long enough to go around three times, but that was all it would have to do for now. I ended my ill-equipped treatment by picking up and uncorking the vile again, and pouring what was left down her throat. She coughed slightly as the last of it went down, but she didn’t chock, which could only be a good thing.

There was a loud 'thud' sound somewhere behind us that, followed by a very loud yelp from Caramel. I turned my head to see that Cross Wings had just pushed the cage out of the wagon, and had also detached the two dead slavers from the front and turned it around.

“Sorry.” He shouted to me with a slightly awkward look on his face. I sighed quietly and returned my focus to the unconscious mare that lay before me.

‘I’m not carrying her on my back, that’s for damned sure.’ I concentrated on her entire body and slowly used my magic to gently lift her into the air, then turned around and trotted over to the wagon where the griffon was waiting. When I arrived, Cross Wings sprang up off the ground, flapped over to Blue Lagoon and took her in his claws, then turned and glided over to the wagon to lay her down.

I looked around to where Caramel had been just a second ago, only to realise she followed them and was already struggling to hoist herself up to be next to her unconscious companion. Cross Wings had at this point gotten down from the wagon and was looking at me as if he was going to say something, but was hesitating.

“Something wrong?” I asked, not really caring if anything actually was.

“Er, well, ain’t these two slavers? Why exactly are we helping them?” I was about to give a reason for my actions but stopped when I realised that I didn’t actually have one.

'They haven't really done anything for me. In fact, they're probably the whole reason I was put in that cage in the first place.'

“We’re not salvers!” My thoughts were interrupted by a young mare's voice coming from the wagon. We both looked over to see Caramel, who was giving us what I think was supposed be a death glare but looked poutier than anything else.

“Oh, how so?” I enquired.

“We both had debts that we couldn’t pay off. Their boss said he’d pay them off for us if we worked for him for a little while. We didn’t really want to hurt anypony, but we didn’t have a choice.” She spat at us as if she was offended by our ignorance. I remembered what the older mare had said to that stallion I had strangled about this job being ‘insurance’ and decided that I was going to need more context.

“You couldn’t pay for your chem addition, right?” Her eyes widened slightly.

“H-how did you know that?” I could have gone on in depth about obvious it was that she was an addict, but I really didn’t feel like explain myself to the foal.

“Call it an educated guess.” She looked slightly skeptical but thankfully didn’t press the issue.

“So, what did she do?” Asked Cross Wings, motioning to Blue Lagoon with a nod.

“She... er.” She stopped herself and thought for a moment about what she was going to say.

“She used to live in a town where the mayor was a very bad pony. One day he tried to do a bad thing to her and she...um...did a bad thing back. The boss helped her get away from the town after that.” I assumed that ‘bad thing’ was a substitute for ‘rape’ and/or ‘murder’.

“This town she lived in, was it called Hollow Shades?” I had remembered hearing that the creepy old bastard had finally been put down a few months back.

“Um, I think that’s what it was called, yeah.”

'Rape it was, then.' I frowned slightly as I tried to decide how I felt about this. Sure, he was a perverted old prick who spent more time drooling over every mare he saw than he did governing his citizens, but he was a prick that paid me to scare off raiders and fucked up wildlife.

'Well, maybe the next mayor will be a little more professional... and a bit more generous.' I turned to face Cross Wings.

“Well, you heard her. They’re not slavers and one of them killed a dickhead mayor. Seems to me like that warrants a bit of help.” He shrugged one shoulder.

“A'right, come on then. I came all the way out here, now I'm gonna get something out of it.” He stated whilst gesturing towards the dead bodies, indicating that he wanted me to help him loot their corpses. I made some kind of sound that can only be described as a pissed off grunt and trotted over to the nearest body.

As we searched for anything of value I questioned him as to how he found me. Apparently, we had been going down the dirt road that led to the slaver shit-hole that was Old Appaloosa and he'd just guessed that they'd be going there.

A bit under ten minutes of disrespecting the dead later we had collected about two hundred caps, a bunch of ammo for guns that neither of us used, some crap leather barding, and a few guns actually worth selling, along with a bunch that we could swindle to somepony stupid enough.

During the scavenge I managed to recover my pistol, knife, and rifle, despite Cross Wings attempt to blend them in with the rest of the merchandise.

After we loaded up and made sure that Blue Lagoon was comfortable, I counted out the total profits from selling everything we found and the stuff already in the wagon to be around seven hundred caps, seven fifty if the swindling went well. I was a little bit surprised by that number considering where it was coming from.

“Bloody hell. If this is just four of them, what do the others have on them?” Cross Wings questions, also in slight disbelief.

“Well, I would say that it's safe to assume that they all have similar gear. But since it looks like you left it all for a bunch of other mercs to pick up, I'm going to hazard a guess that it's all gone by now.” He somehow both froze in place and flinched at the same time, resulting in him pulling what I can only describe as an 'oh shit, I left the stove on' face.

“Um, yeah, about that...” He said with an unsettling amount of caution. I was confused for a few seconds before the realisation hit me like a bucket of freezing water.

“Cross Wings, what happened after I got knocked out.”

“Oh, so that's how they caught you. I probably should have guessed that 'cause, you know, nothing can take you down when you get going.”

'Well clearly something could.'  It was pretty clear that he was panicking and trying to find a way to not answer my question, which only served to worry me further.

“I mean, you take on gangs of raiders just to loot them for pocket change, and-”

“CROSS WINGS!” He jumped slightly before sighing in defeat.

“Okay, so after the shooting stopped and all the slavers were dead there were only three other Talons left alive.” Even though I had known that he would say something like that, it still felt like I had just been kicked in the chest by a pony made of ice.

“They all blamed us for what happened and decided that there needed to be a change in management, you can guess how that went down.” I was completely silent. I just stared at him for what felt like hours, bewildered and slightly aggravated.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Cross Wings?”

“HEY, they attacked me, it was self-defense, ya judgemental dick.” I was slightly taken aback by this outburst, then realised that I was actually the one in the wrong here. I broke eye contact with the griffon and looked down to the ground.

“You're right. I'm sorry. This was all my fault.” My voice was quiet and throat was a little hoarse as I spoke, but it didn't compare to the headache I was getting. I'd always hated being the one to have to apologize. I continued staring at the ground until I felt a rather hard bop on the top of my head, which just made the headache worse. I looked up to see Cross Wings giving me a stern glare.

“Don't go givin' me any of your fake guilt bullshit. Let's just get out of here.” He said whilst turning to go hitch himself up to the front of the wagon. I just stood there, feeling an odd blend of hurt and annoyance at his comment, but within a brief moment, I did what I always do.

Shrug it off and carry on. I shook my head slightly and was about to follow the light grey and black griffon, when suddenly-

“Blue!” I quickly turned and peered up over the side of the wagon at the two mares. Blue Lagoon eyes were half open and her head was off the floor, but I doubted that she could do anything else. She made some mumbling noises that I couldn't make out into word, but it seemed that Caramel could.

“It's okay, Blue. You're safe. Dust is gone. The Nightkin scared him off.” I glanced over at her with a curious expression.

'She knows my name is Vanish, right?' I decided to ignore it for now and was about to walk back to hitch myself in, but stopped when I spotted the locker that had been in the wagon the whole time. I examined it and realised that it needed the same type of key that I had picked off of the slavers leader last night. I figured that it was worth a shot and magically reached into my pocket to fish out the key, only to find all of them to be completely empty.

'Of bloody course.' 

“Hey, kid.” She looked away from Blue and over to me. “Where's all my stuff?” She pointed with a hoof to the saddlebag that she had taken the medical supplies out of.

'Wait a minute, did she give me my own stuff to treat Blue Lagoon?' I was more than a bit annoyed by this revelation as it technically meant that I had just robbed myself.

I grumbled a little under my breath and levitated the bag over to me. In it I found everything that had been in my pockets the night before; a bunch of .308 and .44 ammo, a couple of potions and bandages, a half-full, blue stable-tech water canteen with the number '85' printed on one side in yellow, the keyring with the key that I had intended to use on the locker, about a half dozen more bobby pins, and (the two things I was most pleased to see) a pack of Red Hoof cigarettes and a steel zippo lighter.

The second I laid eyes on them I realised how badly I had been craving a smoke for the past day, along with how hungry and thirsty I was. I unscrewed the lid on the canteen and finished what left, then opened the cigarette pack, slid one out and placed the beige end in between my lips. I raised the grey coloured lighter in front of my face, flicked the lid up and struck down on the flint wheel. A small flame erupted from the top, lighting the tip of the cigarette. I took in a deep breath and inhaled as much smoke as I could, held it for a second, then exhaled to blow it all back out.

'Okay, that's one problem dealt with.'

I turned my attention back to the locker and slid the small key into the lock, then twisted it. There was a faint click and it was open. I raised the lid and froze in place. Inside was a long cylindrical object with a mouth grip that acted as a trigger and about a dozen clips for it to attach to a battle-saddle.

'Where in fuck did they get freaking missile launcher?'

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't give something like this to Cross Wings, the slavers probably bought it off of someone like him.

'But he doesn’t know that this is here or that I have the key, so if I just don't bring it up then he'll be none the wiser.'

I decided that it would be best to just hide it from him and maybe sell it to somepony stable enough to be allowed to own it. I closed to the locker, turned the key back upright, took it out and walked back to join Cross Wings at the front of the wagon, as he was struggling to figure out how the straps worked. I grabbed it in my magic and fastened them around his torso, which he seemed to be oddly displeased with, then hitched myself up next to him.

“How long of a walk is it back to the talons building?” I asked Cross Wings. “Um... I don't know, I was flying for almost an hour, how long will that be with all this crap?” The gears started turning in my head.

'Cross Wings' a pretty fast flyer, but I doubt that he was going at full speed, he's never really put a hundred percent into anything. Dust said we'd been walking for over three hours, but they were a big group and all walking, so it probably took a lot longer than it needed too. With two of us pulling the wagon and nothing to really slow us down, I'd say maybe an hour and forty-five minutes at the least.' 

“Two and a bit hours if we don't stop for anything.” He mumbled and started walking. 'This is gonna be long and painful.'



We had been going along at a steady pace for about forty minutes. My hooves ached, my stomach was growling loud enough to attract mole rats, and Cross Wings' grumbling was driving me up the fucking wall. I had finished my cigarette about fifteen minutes ago and was already craving another, but decided that it would be best to save them, which I immediately regretted. I needed a distraction, any distraction.

“Um... hey, Nightkin.” The feminine voice of Blue Lagoon called out from behind me. I grunted loudly.

“My name is Vanish Strike. I'd prefer to be called as such.” I stated firmly without even turning my head to look at her.

“Er, right, sorry.” There was an awkward moment of silence before she spoke again.

“So, where are we going?” I would have thought the answer to that question would be obvious, but I'd been wrong before.

“We're going back to the Talons building.” I heard her gasp and begin to panic.

“Wh-what? We can't go back there, the griffins with tear us to shreds. I was apart of that shootout, they'll kill me if they-”

“They’re all dead.” I interrupted, having lost my patience. “The slavers and the griffons all killed each other and what was left was dealt with by Cross Wings. So we're fine.” She was quiet for a few seconds and decided to ask me something that I hadn't been expecting.

“Why did you help me?” I had to think for a brief moment about how I was going to answer and settled on a response that wasn't really true.

“Because I'm the Nightkin, it's kind of what I do.” In truth, I didn't really have a reason for helping her. She didn't owe me anything, and I definitely didn't do it because of my reputation. I chose to believe that I did it because I didn't want to see anyone else die today because of me. Understandable since I had apparently been responsible for about fifty people getting killed in the last twelve hours.

“Look, we're gonna go back there and rest. I'll likely be gone by morning and Cross Wings probably will go back to the Talons, you should probably use this time to figure out what you're going to do.” I stated flatly, trying to end the conversation. Cross Wings, however, wanted to keep talking.

“Actually, I'm going with you.” I was court a bit off guard by this. Cross Wings had always tended to ignore the fact that I wasn't really a team player, but I would have thought he'd have been just a bit angry at me for yesterday.

“Er, why?” He glanced at me with a small smirk.

“Well, someone’s gotta help me sell all this crap, and half of the cut is yours, remember?” This really confused me to the point of frustration.

“But... But I got all the griffons killed. I didn't trust you and I fucked up, so why in hell would you want anything to do with me?” I almost shouted at him. He drew back a little before another, wider smirk appeared on his beak.

“Vanish, how much do you think I would have charged if someone wanted me to kill all of them?” I just continued staring, not really knowing where he was going with this.

“Probably the same that I'm gonna get for selling all their shit.” He finished with a malevolent grin. I didn't really know what else to expect from Cross Wings. He, like most mercenaries, was greedy, vicious and didn't really care too much for the well being of anyone that he either didn't know or didn't need. Then again, I wasn't really all that much better than him, so I just smiled slightly and shook my head.

“You are one sick fuck, Cross Wings,” I said, trying to stifle a snicker.

“Isn't that why you hang out with me?” He retorted with a chuckle, nudging me in the side with his elbow.

“So it's settled. You and me are gonna stick together until we get paid.” I simply nodded. The two of us had never really done any major travelling together, but we had both seen what the other was capable of, so neither of us was exactly wasting the others time, and since Cross Wings was still willing to continue putting up with me even after last nights 'mishap', the least I could do was help him make a few caps.

“Alright, so where we gonna sell it all? There aren’t any big towns anywhere in reasonable walking distance, and us wondering around the wasteland with a wagon full merchandise is defiantly a recipe for us getting robbed.” Cross Wings opened his beak to give me an answer but realised he didn't actually have one and closed it. He thought for a few moments before looking at me with an uncertain expression.

“Well, the only place nearby that's rich enough to afford it all would be Nova City, but it's a good five day walk away, and that's without the wagon. But, if we go a little way off track, there's a small rest stop we could spend a night.” This wasn't exactly ideal.

True, between the general stores, the gun shops, and the guards that wanted a bit more stopping power, Nova definitely had the money, but the walk was gonna be an absolute bitch, even with the rest stop, and based on what we already had picked up, it was doubtful that we could fit it all in the wagon, meaning that we would either have to leave some of the less valuable stuff behind or make two trip.

'We'll make fewer caps, but fucked if I'm making that trip twice. It seems like a waste to just let it all sit there, though. Maybe we just give what's left to the slaves and...' 

“OH CRAP, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SLAVES?” I shouted aloud, making Cross Wings jump and the two mares in the back yelp. The griffon looked at me like I was completely insane, but realised what I was raving about and went pale.

“Shit, I forgot about them... we should probably hurry.” Without a second for anyone to properly comprehend what was happening, I started galloping, forcing Cross Wings to also pick up the pace. I ran as fast as my body would allow, ignoring my already aching hooves and growling stomach. Cross Wings yelled something about the cargo, and the two in the wagon cried out for me to slow down, but I didn't care. We had just left almost a dozen slave ponies caged up in the middle of nowhere, and I'd be damned if was gonna just leave them all there to die.

'They've been sat there for maybe fifteen hours at the most. I don't really know what or how much they were being fed, but it's unlikely any of them starved in that time. Even still, this isn't exactly the most friendly environment, what with all the wildlife and raiders around, meaning that we can't rule out them being attacked.' This train of thought would continue pretty much for the entire run back to the Talons building, constantly going back and forth, trying to make up my mind about whether or no all of them were dead or just sitting there.

After a few minutes of running I slowed down to a fast canter to preserve my energy, and partly to get Cross Wings to stop shouting at me. Both my hooves and lungs hurt felt as if they were on fire, and my stomach was begging me to just stop, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered.



What should have been another hour and a half of walking was turned into a thirty-minute dash that had about a dozen lives riding on it. It wasn't long before I could see the ruins of the demolished building that surrounded the solitary intact three-story office building that the Talons had previously occupied, and when I did, I returned to a full-on sprint, forcing Cross Wings to do the same.

When the building was finally within eyeshot, I looked all around and spotted three other wagons, similar in design to the one I was hitched to, each holding a cage with four or five shackled ponies sitting inside, along with what was left of the original group of slaver's supplies. We ran over and skidded to a rather sudden halt, panting heavily.

“Alright, we made it,” I stated through raspy breaths.

“Oh, wow, really? Hadn't noticed.” Cross Wings spat at me with enough venom to kill a brahmin. I chose to ignore any further comments from him and unhitched myself from the wagon.

As soon as I was out of the strap I dashed over to the nearest cage and jumped up onto the back of the wagon. Sat in the large cage were four ponies all cramped together, all dressed in dirty rags. They all stared at me with looks of caution as I approached, which I couldn't really blame them for, I probably would have done the same. None of us spoke a word as I ignited my horn to reach into my pockets. Out floated the screwdriver and a bobby pin.

I floated the screwdriver into the lock, carefully placed the pin just above it and began twisting.

It took five minute and four bobby pins, but eventually, everypony was free. They all looked like they were in good health which was rather surprising to me since most slavers were complete bastards who would have rather set food on fire just to watch it burn then give it to a starving slave. It did, however, make sense from a financial point, since stronger workers would sell for much more than a half dead one.

None of them really seemed to knew what was going on, but nopony wanted to be the one to ask. I made the regretful decision to try and talk to them.

“So, er, everypony okay?” They all looked to me, their befuddlement and discomfort mirroring my own. I heard a mumble from them and instantly gave up on doing this myself. Blue Lagoon and Caramel had already been identified by a few of them and had made the smart decision to stay in the wagon, hidden behind all the satchels and boxes, so that left me having to ask the one griffon for help.

I looked over to the newly vacated wagon, where Cross Wings was digging for whatever loot he would be able to sell and cleared my throat loudly. His head shot out of a satchel bag and turned to face me. I gestured with my head towards the group of ponies and mouthed the words 'do something'.

He looked slightly confused for a moment before realising what I meant and hovered over to stand next to me to address the freed slave.

“Well, it seems like you all escaped from that ordeal better off than you were going in, so you're welcome.” I facehoofed. “Now, it would probably be best for you all to go and find yourselves a place to stay and since all of its occupants are dead, you can just live for a little while.” This surprised me. Was Cross Wings actually showing compassion without profit?

“You know, just until the rest of the Talons come over to kick you out.” My face fell. The Talons may be strong fighters and did have some twisted sense of honour, but there was no way that they would just let a bunch of squatters live in one of their building.

Unfortunately, that was how real estate worked out here. Find a place you want to live in, send whoever is already living there packing, then move in.

'I suppose a few day in a place like this would be preferable to immediately hitting to road... without the bodies, of course.' I whinnied in frustration at the situation and decided to just leave them to it. I began to trot over to the front entrance but was halted halfway there by Cross Wings.

“Hey, where you going?” I didn't bother looking back at him.

“Get my stuff, then make a start on cleaning this place out,” I stated flatly before continuing towards the door.

“Oh, okay, have fun.” He shouted after me, going back to the conversation with the slaves.

I stood in front of the double doors that led into last nights failure. My failure.

'Lets just get this over with.' I gripped the knobs in my magic, let out a deep breath that didn't realise I was holding and pushed.



There were corpses everywhere. Around every corner, behind every door, skin beginning to turn purple and bodies stiff as boards (but thankfully not yet decomposing).

It would have been horrific to somepony else, but I had seen it all before. Ponies slaughtered for profit was nothing new. Hell, I'd seen it done for much less than that. After a while, you kind of learn to ignore it. I took a deep breath and headed towards the small storage room that Cross Wings had parked me last while he dealt with the rest.

Five minutes later I had found the place I was looking for and walked in, shutting the door behind me. The room was rather narrow with two sets of ruined steel shelves, an empty file cabinet and a rather large pair of saddlebags hidden underneath the shelves on the left. Right where I had left it.

My horn lit up and the bags began to glow the same colour. I floated it off the ground and over to myself, opening it as I did. I pulled out every item inside just to make sure that nothing was gone. In one bag was a full bottle of clean water, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey, a half-full bottle of wine, an extra pack of cigarettes, a small cardboard box containing two snack cakes, two unmarked tins of food that I had been putting off eating, a spoon and fork and a bunch of potions, bandages and chems. Buck, dash, even a syringe of stampede (thankfully, I was smart enough to not want to use any of them, just sell them to whoever wasn't).

In the other were a large amount ammo for various different guns, a few energy cells, five grenades (three frags, two plasmas), two frag mines, a whetstone, two extra stealth-bucks, a pouch containing about four hundred twenty bottle caps, and a pip-buck 3000.

The bulky hoof mounted computer was in a very sorry state. The screen was cracked in a couple of places, the latch that attached it to the foreleg was completely busted and the flash light's bulb had burned out ages ago. I had plucked it off the skeleton of some long dead stable pony who I found deep in a cave behind a wall of radscorpions about four years back. I mostly just used it as a clock and a map.

'Good, it's all still here' I thought as I put everything back into the bags, except for the whiskey bottle and the snack cakes, before placing them in the same spot I found them. I quickly ate both cakes, drained the bottle in one large gulp, coughing slightly as the last drops went down, and walked out.

'Like I said, long and painful'



It took over five hours to clear out the bodies. Things would have gone a lot faster if any of the slaves had bothered to help us instead of just standing around quietly muttering to each other, but it was probably better this way since me and Cross Wings were likely the only two here that would be able to stomach this kind of dirty work, which was probably a good thing. This fact didn't comfort me nearly as much as the two cigarettes that I had burnt to the filters.

The bodies were lined up, stripped of their possessions, then tossed onto a pile a few minutes walk away, leaving them for the wildlife to deal with. The greyness of the day had transitioned into a barely distinct afternoon. Cross Wings was trying to see just how much could be stuffed into biggest of the four wagons, and Caramel was still insisting that Blue Lagoon needed to stay and rest in the one we had brought with us.

As I removed the armour from the last griffon's lifeless body I heard somepony shouting. I looked over to the source and saw that three of the slaves, two earth pony stallions, and a unicorn mare, had gone over to the wagon that Blue and Caramel were sat in. They looked angry. Eyes narrowed and lips scowling, I made my way over there.

“Is there a problem over here?” They all turned to face me. The mare and one of the stallions flinched slightly when they saw me, but the other (the bigger one) glared back.

“You're damn right there's a problem, these cunts are still alive.” He spat in my face whilst gesturing with a hoof towards the two cowering mares. I could understand them being angry with them (I would be too), but I wasn't in any sort of mood to be dealing with this guy's bullshit.

“Well, if you insist on somepony dying.” I lit up my horn and drew out my revolver from its holster. The colour drained from his face when he saw it and he quickly took a few steps back. I peered down into the cylinder and saw that there were no bullets on either side. 'I only fired three shots last night, so that means that they emptied it after they took it off me.'

I was slightly annoyed at myself for not noticing this sooner but was more confused since Dust had used this gun to threaten Caramel earlier. 'Either he didn't have any intention of killing her or he's a complete idiot.'  I couldn't help but smirk at the thought of how I could use this. After all, this guy didn't have to know empty.

“So, you or one of your friends?” I sneered whilst raising the gun to point it at them. They all stared in dead silence, he appeared to be sweating profusely and the other stallion shaking. This earned a small snort from me.

“I get to choose? Alright then.” I aimed the barrel directly between the first one's eyes and pulled back the hammer. After this, he began shaking as well. His eyes darted back and forth between me and the gun. I magically pulled back on the trigger. There was a quiet click and nothing happened.

There were a few seconds of stillness, then his eye glassed over and he fell to the ground, completely limp. I lowered the gun and looked at his two friends, both appeared to be close to doing the same as him.

“Get him out of here. I don't want to hear anything out of you lot again, got it?” I growled. They remained frozen in place for a moment before rushing over to the fainted stallions and hastily dragging him away. I continued glaring at them until they rejoined the rest, then let out a deep sigh and turned to the wagon. Both the mares were staring at me in mild shock.

“You two alright?” I grumbled. Blue seemed to recover first and replied with a shaky voice.

“Er, yeah, we're fine. They shouted at us a little, but didn't do anything else.” She wore a conflicted expression, like she wanted to say something but want sure if she should.

“Something on your mind?” I questioned, trying to give off a calm vibe. She started fidgeting slightly.

“Um, well... see, Caramel and I were talking and we... er, we've decided that we want to... to-”

“Can we go with you?” Caramel interrupted. When she realized what she had said she paled slightly and shrunk back down. I blinked a few time as I processed what she was asking.

“You want to come with me and Cross Wings to Nova city?” Blue gave the young mare a pointed look before sighing and explaining what exactly they were asking for.

“It's just that... we can't stay here with them, they’ll eat us alive, and you heard what the griffon said, there isn't a town for miles, and wandering aimlessly around the wasteland isn't exactly a safe idea for a pony with a concussion and a child. And-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” I cut her off before she gave herself a panic attack.

“Alright, I see your point, but here's the thing.” My face darkened. “You told Dust who I am, didn't you?” Blue Lagoon flinched.

“Ye-Yes, I did.” She shied away from me, refusing to look me in the eye.

“You basically sold my life to an idiot who thought that he could give me to Red Eye and live a happy, gluttonous life, even after I saved you from those other two jackasses.”

“W-we didn-”

“Tell me, what was I worth? Did he offer you caps? Safety? Or did you just do it for the sake of doing it?”

“HE WAS GOING TO KILL YOU!” Caramel jumped to all four hooves and stared me dead in the face.

“Kill me? Why would he want to kill me? He didn't even know whose side I was on.” Blue Lagoon extended a hoof to the child's shoulder and gently pushed her aside. She huffed but stepped away to let Blue talk.

“Do you remember that mare with the grenade rifle?” I rolled my eyes.

“How could I forget?”

“When Dust and the others found you unconscious next to her body they kind of assumed that you had killed her. Dust wanted to cut your throat there and then, but I told him that you were the Nightkin and that you would probably be worth a lot to someone. When he heard that he decided that we were gonna sell you to Red Eye.” I wrinkled my muzzle.

“Why would he be so eager to kill me? He didn't know the full story.” Blue grimaced and glances at Caramel.

“Um... well, you see, he and Daisy Crush, the mare you were found with, they were...close.” I raised an eyebrow at this. It was obvious what she meant, it just confused me that she would care about censoring herself in front of Caramel. Based on her blush, the foal clearly knew what she was talking about.

I pushed the thought aside and considered what they were asking of me.

'They did technically save my life, but at the same time potentially condemned me to live as a slave... okay, a couple weeks tops, but still as a slave. I don't really know if Blue's any good in a fight (even without a concussion), and it seems like Caramel's confidence mostly comes from the Mint-als, so if we run into any trouble they're both gonna be a bit useless. Still, an extra gun never really hurts. An extra few mouths, however...'

I kept going around and around in my head, trying to decide if this was a good idea or not. For every advantage, I found there was an equal disadvantage, and I wasn't really one for compromise. This continued in for a few moments before I noticed that both mares were staring at me in suspense, the younger biting her lower lip. This brought me to the realisation that they likely wouldn't survive very long without my help, and that leaving them to such a fate would be a weight on my shoulders for a long time.

I whinnied quietly and shook my head.

“We leave tomorrow morning, do everything I tell you, stay back during any conflicts, eat what you're given or find your own food and don't even bother whining about anything 'cause I'm not gonna listen.” I didn't look at them as I spoke, but I could tell from the sighs of relief that they weren’t entirely expecting me to say yes.

I did hear one of them say something, but by this point, all I wanted was to finish preparing to leave, preferably alone. I turned my gaze over to the griffon I had been working and saw that Cross Wings had taken the liberty of finishing for me and was currently dragging his body towards the pile off in the distance.

I scanned the area and saw, to my relief, that not only were we finished with clearing away the corpses, but also that the former slaves had stopped dawdling around and had actually begun to file into the building. As I pondered on what was left to be done to prepare for tomorrows departure, a thought dawned on me. A rather worrying thought.

“Hey,” I said as I turned back. “Did you tell Dust my real name?” They both looked slightly confused.

“Ur, no, I don't think so, it never really came up,” Blue responded. “Why do you ask?” I let my body relax a little and rolled my eye at the question.

'Shouldn't that be obvious?' 

“Okay, think about this. What is the Nightkin known for doing, exactly?” She looked as if she hadn't really been expecting me to give a straight answer, but was still taken aback.

“Um... well, DJ PON3 talks about how you kill raiders and slavers a lot. And there's also all the stories about the mutant alicorns, the pegasus enclave, that weird mercenary clan of-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. Anyway, the point is that there are a lot of people that would very much like to see the Nightkin dead. So if any of them were to find out his real name, it would be easier for them to track him down, meaning that they would likely pay quite a lot for that information.” A look of realisation dawned on her face. “So, tell me, if somepony like Dust knew his name and then ran into somepony that worked for Red Eye or the Enclave what do you think he'd do?” As I talked she started to release what I was getting at.

“He'd probably sell them your real name.” She mumbled, embarrassed at not figuring it out sooner.

'Ether that or they'd just beat it out of him.'

“That's right. So call me Nightkin again and, I swear to Celestia, I will ditch you.”  I shot her a pointed look, causing them to cringe a little. I turned and began to walk away, but was stopped by a young voice.

“You don't have to be so mean about it!” I narrowed my eyes but didn't look back.

“If I wasn't mean you wouldn't listen.” I scoffed as I made my way towards the doors leading into the building.



The trek back to my storage closet wasn't exactly quick. I had to take several alternative (and longer) routes to avoid all the ponies that now inhabited the place. I really didn't want to even risk having to talk to anyone, regardless of the subject.

After about twenty minutes of ducking and weaving around corners, I finally made it back to where I had left all my stuff, almost slamming the door behind me. Realising just how hungry I actually was, I levitated out the bags and immediately pulled out the fork, one of the mystery tins and the bottle of wine. I use my magic to tear open the tin and saw that it was filled with a yellow, chunky slop. Mac and cheese. I bought the tin up to my nose and sniffed. It didn't really smell as if it had gone off, meaning that the tin likely had a preservative spell on it.

'Thank fucking Celestia.'

I focused my magic around the can, changing the aura's colour from purple to a warm red and coursing the contents to begin emitting a small amount of steam. I ate in almost complete silence, not really bothering to taste the bland mush as it went down my throat, occasionally sipping from the wine bottle. It only took five or so minutes to finishing eating, leaving me with an empty tin, an almost empty wine bottle, and a pleasant drunken buzz.

I finished the liquor and discarded both containers out of the door. I brought out my lighter and pack of cigarettes from my coat and saw that there were only four left. This added to the eighteen the full pack in my bag meant that I had twenty-two total. This might sound like a lot, but I normally had about five to seven a day, so, if I wasn't careful, I would run out by about day four.

'Okay then, last one for today' I thought with a bit of annoyance as I drew one final cigarette. I looked up and saw a small, rectangular window near the top of the wall opposite the door. I reach my magic up and prised it open, then sat back against the filing cabinet.

After a solid five minutes of sitting with my eyes closed and the cigarette held between my lips whilst steadily exhaling smoke, I heard a voice. A soft, almost calming feminine voice that I knew all too well.

“So, here we are again. Wallowing in self-pity and struggling to find a reason for why we do the things we do.” I breathed out a small black cloud and slowly opened my eyes.

In front of me stood a unicorn mare in her mid to late twenty. Her pointed turquoise green eyes stared into my cyan ones. Her maroon coat covered her entire slim, yet strong figure and her short, well-kept mane and tail were a spectrum of blue, electric at the tips and navy at the roots. On her flank was the image of a cluster of about a half dozen spark, thin smoke rising from them to form a spiral-shaped cloud.

“Hello, Mist.” My voice was much more tranquil than it had been at any point over the last day. I was never very good at being stern with her.

“You did pretty well with this one, you know, ignoring all the dead griffons.” She said, almost in a joking manner. “None of the slaves died, and it seems like you even made a few new friends.”

“Blue and Caramel? They're not friends.” I retorted. She let out an amused giggle.

“They know that you're the Nightkin, so, like it or not, we now have to keep them on our side. And how exactly do we do that?” I looked away from her and exhale again.

“By making friends with them,” I mumbled.

“That's right, and please, at least try to be nice to these two. They seem like they could really use some... well, niceness.” Be nice? Me? Not exactly an unreasonable request, but still not one that I would normally put too much effort towards.

“Fine. I'm not gonna go out of my way or anything, but I guess I can stop being... 'mean'” Since we were going to be spending the next few days together, it made sense for us to get along just a little.

“Good. Now we can get down to the reason why I'm here.” I looked at her again and was greeted by a sharp stare and a harsh frown.

“Why did you do this?” It was a question I thought I knew the answer too.

“Because I hate slavers and wanted to kill them,” I admitted this with absolutely no shame. As far as I cared, anyone who sold, brought, or owned other ponies deserved what I would give them.

“Wrong.” She sounded almost disappointed by my answer, which only served to bewilder me.

“Well, not entirely. That may have been one of the reasons, but it was not the main one.” I was becoming more confused and frustrated as she talks but tried to contain it.

“What are you talking about? I didn't need any other reason.” I snapped, failing in my efforts to remain somber.

“You did this to distract yourself.” All at once my body went stiff, my eyes squinted and my face fell. I knew exactly what she was talking about.

“We still need to find Stable 104.” I looked away from her again in mild shame.

“I'm working on it, alright.” I heard her sigh loudly.

“You've been 'working on it' for almost ten years now. Isn't there some old cliché about how you're supposed to dedicate all your time to fulfilling my one wish?”

“Isn't there an even older cliché about how I'm supposed to track you down and avenge my parents?” I scoffed through another puff of smoke. She chuckled dryly.

“Well, you kind of did.” There were a few moments of nothing. No movement, no sound, nothing.

Knock knock knock

“Hey, Strike.” My head snapped up and turned to face the door that Cross Wings' voice was coming through.

“Get out here. I need help with the cargo.” I groaned before inhaling as much smoke as I could, then slowly breathing it all out.

“Right, be out in a second.” I levitated the cigarette out of my mouth and crumpled it in my magical grip. I got to my hooves and made my way over to the door, but stopped just as I was about to turn the nob. I didn't need to look back. I knew what I'd see.

“See you later, Sis” I breathed quietly before opening the door and exiting the empty room.



Footnote: level up

Perk added: Smoke Powered – your Perception, Straight and Endurance all increase by 1 for a short time after having a smoke, but decrease by 1 if you go too long without one.
> Chapter 3: Long Walk
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days.
We had been dragging the cart around for three days and I was beginning to feel like my hooves were going to gain minds of their own and rebel against the rest of my body.
Cross Wings had assured me that we would arrive at the rest stop – that he only now told me was run by a friend of his – by about mid-afternoon, and at this point, the idea of an actual bed to sleep on was the only thing keeping me going.

We had decided that a break was necessary after walking for almost the whole morning and I had been sitting next to the back of the wagon, fiddling with my pip-buck for the past few minutes trying to figure out exactly where we were. The green display showed a map with several markers on it showing the locations of various places across the wasteland. The spot where the icon that represented my current location was somewhat devoid of any others, partly because I had never really been to this part of the country before, but because there was nothing here.

Sure, we had come across a few clusters of shacks that were inhabited, but nowhere that we could spend a night or sell anything. Most of the last three days had just been us walking and not a lot else. It was getting tedious, even for me. What few conversations we did have all died fairly quickly when someone inevitably said the wrong thing, whether it be Cross Wings making a dumb joke, me saying something a bit too bluntly or one of the mares accidentally calling me Nightkin.

Cross Wings had said something about stretching before flying off, and Blue and Caramel were sat on the other side of the wagon talking about what they were going to do when we got to Nova.

I continued looking through all the different features on the pip-buck and somehow finding myself on the radio tuning screen. I was getting a signal from the Tenpony Tower broadcasting system, which meant that DJ pon3 as on the air.

It had been three days, so if he hadn't heard about the shootout by now he probably wasn't going to hear about it at all.

I took a deep breath before selecting it. There was some kind of love song playing that I didn’t bother to actually listen to, which ended fairly quickly.

“And that was Sweetie Bell, singing about finding that special somepony.”

The smooth, deep voice of DJ Pon3 emitted from the pip-buck. The audio was crackly and not exactly high quality, but it really didn’t need to be.

“Now then, I think that it’s time for some news.”

‘Here we go.’

“It seems like that gaggle of freaky mutant alicorns that were hiding out just north of Dodge Junction has finally been cleared out by those brawny ponies in power armour, the Steel Ranger. Whilst many people may have some serious bones to pick with these guys, I think that we can all agree that of these two, they’re the lesser evil.”

I suppose that this was good news. The Steel Rangers may have been dicks, but that was only if you provoked them… or had something they wanted. The alicorns, however, would hunt ponies down and either kill them (if they’re lucky) or drag them away to do Celestia knows what to them, so, as far as I cared, they could be killed without some much as a second glance.

‘Well then, go team Steel Ranger, I guess.’

“It also seems like the Rangers have agreed to a ceasefire with the, ahem, ‘mercenary’ gang known as The Band of Sin. Don’t really know why, but let’s hope this lasts. The last thing we need is more boneheads with too many big toys fighting whilst everyone else is just trying to get on with their day.”

This was concerning.

I never really had much of a history with the Steel Rangers, save for a few encounters with individuals that weren’t of any major significance to either of us. The Sin, however, I did know quite a lot about, the most daunting fact of which being that most of them really didn’t like me.

A ceasefire between the two meant that they were in mutual agreement about something, possibly an indicator that there was some kind of alliance in the works. I grimaced at the thought of what those two might be working towards in unison.

“And lastly for now, ho hoo, is this one a doozy. Fillies and gentlecolts, let me tell you ‘bout the latest escapades of Mr gloomy hooves himself, the Nightkin.” 

My eye twitched.

‘Did he just call me ‘gloomy hooves’? Pray I never go to Tenpony Tower, you twat.’ 

“According to reports, a rather large convoy of slavers were called over to make a trade out by Rockville in the western areas of the wastes, something to do with needing miners. Well, it turns out that was a bunch of hooey and was actually a trap set up by you know who.

“Bad news is that the boss kinda-sorta guessed that something was up and decided to bring in some extra help from a nearby group of griffon mercenaries. Yeah, that plan didn’t really work out too well for them, since the Nightkin apparently just appeared out of thin air and somehow managed to take out all of them. Seems like Celestia’s picking favourites.”

That wasn’t exactly a good way of phrasing it. It sounded like I had done it all myself and without hindrance, when in actuality neither were true. It made me seem a lot more dangerous than I actually was, which meant that smarter enemies would be better prepared for me and dumber ones would come looking for me.

“Don’t you worry your little heads though, ‘cause it sounds like both he and all the slaves got out just fine. So big thanks to the Nightkin and a good luck to the former slaves with that whole new settlement thing they’re trying to get going. Up next we got Sapphire Shores with-”

I shut the radio off. Didn’t really want to listen to any more sappy pop music from two hundred years ago.

“Aww, put it back on, I like her.” I looked up to see Caramel with the kind of big, sad eyes that only a small child can pull off.

Behind her stood Blue Lagoon who was attempting to stifle a giggle. I glanced back and forth between the two before sighing and turning it back on. The song was bouncy and upbeat, the first verse just started.

The filly’s face lit up as I levitated the pip-buck over to her waiting forehooves. She let out a small squeal before darting off around the wagon to listen on her own.

Blue’s gaze followed her until she was out of sight. The warm on smile her face failed to hide the glint of worry in her eye.

“She hasn’t taken anything since the Talons building, right?” Her smile disappeared almost instantly. She nodded once without turning to face me.

“It’s been four days, so this is the point where her withdrawal should be at its worst.” My eyes narrowed. “And yet, she seems to be far more perky and energetic than I’ve seen her be. Why do you think that is?” Her eyes went wide and her head snapped upright to look at me.

“We did find quite a few chems at the Talons building.” Her body was stiff, by her eyes looked as if they were trying to set me on fire.

“She wouldn’t!” She spoke quietly, but it was a sharp tone that showed her anger.

“She promised me before we left, she-”

“She’s a drug addicted child who likely doesn’t know how to control herself.” Her glare faltered.

“She probably waits for us to all fall asleep so she can take them from the wagon and hide them in her mane or something, then take them in small doses throughout the day when no-one’s looking.”

I tried to remain completely emotionless as I spoke, not wanting to let my own frustration show. Blue lower lip began to quiver and her eyes looked like they were beginning to moisten, but she shook her head and looked me right in the eyes with a determined face.

“So, what do we do about it?” Her sudden acceptance of my theory was slightly jarring, but ultimately a good thing.

“There’s a doctor in Nova that can help her, Dr Pulse. She’s got a form of treatment that can purge the drugs out of her system. It’s a bit expensive, but,” I glanced at the cargo. “I think that we already have that covered.”

“Okay then, but what do we do until we can get her the treatment?” I placed to hoof on my chin and tried to think of something.

“If I’m right and she’s only been taking them in small amounts, completely cutting her off shouldn’t have anywhere near the kind of reaction that she would be having if she had stuck to her word, so I think that it’s safe for you to just take it away from her. To be honest, her sneaking those drugs probably made it easier, both on her and us.” She seemed to be processing what I had said when a thought dawned on her.

“‘Safe for me to take them?’ You’re not going to help?” She almost looked hurt.

“She’s known me for four days, and I haven’t exactly been overly pleasant to her. I don’t really know what your relationship is with her, but she’s more likely to take the message to heart if it’s you who says it.” She paused for a brief moment before giving a hesitant nod and following the sound of music to where Caramel was sat.

I decided that I too needed to stretch and stood up. There was a rather tall cluster of large rocks some ways away from the wagon that looked like a pretty go vantage point for surveying the area.

I trotted over and looked it up and down. It was about five or so meters tall and was made up of one boulder held upright by several other rocks that were wedged underneath it. The main boulder itself was incredibly chipped and jagged of every surface, likely due to it being good cover during combat.

I could easily just levitate myself up there, but - seeing as how the entire point of this to exercise my body - decided against it. I hopped up onto one of the rocks at the bottom and pressed a hoof against the boulder. It didn’t budge. I pressed harder. Still nothing.

I let out a deep breath and reached up to grip a chink in the stone. I then reached up a second hoof and grabbed another crack slightly above it and used it as leverage to hoist my entire body upwards. By this point, I was completely off the ground and clinging to the rather sharp rock.

One hoof after another, I made my way up the side, using every inconsistency in the rock face to clamber my way up. I only had to climb for less than half a minute before I made it to the top. It was broad and flat enough for me to be able to sit on (not very comfortable though).

I wasn’t too far off the ground, but it all seemed different from up here; the breeze was slightly stronger and almost tasted clean compared to what I normally breathed, I could gaze out much further and see things from above (if they were close enough).

The biggest difference, however, was that whenever I was up high – even by just a few meter – I could feel the same way I did back when I first discovered climbing back at Winsome Falls.

I felt free. Alive, even.

I didn’t get to feel like that very often anymore. Too many distractions.

I was broken out of my trance by the sound of wings flapping behind me. I magically drew my knife and held it up for him to see.

“If you shout ‘boo’, I’m going to stab you in the eye!” The flapping became erratic for a second before returning to normal.

“Pfft. You’re no fun.” Cross Wings grumbled as he hovered over to my right side. I sheathed the blade, not bothering to turn to him. There was a pregnant pause as we both looked out over the desolate land, dotted with the occasional dead trees, rocks similar to the one I was sat upon and skeletons of whatever creators.

It all seemed so drained; like nothing ever had the chance to properly live here. Like nothing had ever even tried.

“So, err, you gonna explain that?” He pointed toward the wagon, where the two mares were arguing, both seeming to be on the verge of tears.

I sighed loudly. “I’ve already explained this once, just take a guess.”

He thought for a moment and frowned. “Drug talk?”

“Drug talk.” He grimaced and shook his head.

“Let’s just leave them to it, shall we?”

“Why do you think I’m up here?” He rolled his eyes and looked back out over the wasteland in the direction he had been leading us in.

“We’re almost at Campers place, I could see it a few miles off from here.” I nodded.

“And did you see anything else?” He snorted.

“Of course that would be your first question. No, didn’t see any manticores or hellhounds, if that’s what you’re asking. Just a few bloatsprites and a couple of rather unfriendly looking dogs.”

I let out a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment.

The road ahead was quiet. The road behind us had been quiet. This entire road was bloody dull.

I wasn’t exactly hoping for a pack of feral ghouls or raiders to come barrelling over the next hill, but I wanted something to happen.

“Don’t even think about it.” I opened my eyes and looked over at Cross Wings with an eyebrow raised.

“What?” He snorted.

“I get that you’re bored, but I ain’t dragging all that crap back to Nova on my own. So - until we get through those gates - you’re not allowed to go and get yourself killed.” He said, wagging a claw at me.

I glowered slightly at him but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t in the mood argue.

From what I could see, it looked as if the two mares had just about ended their conversation (without either side breaking down) and were ready to move on.

I took in the scenery one last time before scooting over to the edge and beginning my descent.



The last hour and a half had been spent walking and nothing else. When Cross Wings said he could see the place after fly for a little while he had failed to mention how far he had flown or how far away it was when he saw it.

But even if he hadn’t been overly punctual about it, he had still gotten us here.

We stood in front of a relatively small, one-story building that didn’t look like it had more than three or four rooms in it with a wooden sign by the door that had ‘Camper’s Trading Post’ written on it in big red letters. I blinked a few time at it.

“You said this was a rest stop?” I questioned, turning to the griffon. He did his best to appear coy as he undid the strap from the wagon.

“It can be both.” He remarked before slipping away and heading for the front door.

“Hey, HEY!” I shouted as I lurched forward to catch him. Unfortunately, I hadn’t yet removed my own straps, which coursed me to lose my balance after the sudden movement.

“WAH!” I cried as I fell muzzle first into a patch of damp dirt. There was an almost comedic ‘smack’ as I met the ground, followed by a brief moment of nothing before the laughter started.

Obviously, Cross Wings was the loudest, but I could still hear the other two giggling and snickering behind me. For ten straight second, I lay there in the dirt, not moving or speaking. I just remained completely stationary, going so far as to stop breathing altogether.

The laughter died and was replaced with an eerie silence.

“Err, Vanish?” Cross Wings’ usual jaunty voice had a hint of concern to it. I could hear his steps towards me, stopping just in front of my body.

“Is he okay?” Blue asked. I still didn’t move.

A second later I felt a claw lightly poke me on the back of my head, which I used as a signal.

My eyes snapped open as my head jutted upwards to meet the griffons, magically grabbing his own to stop him escaping. My piercing glare digging into his surprised eyes from less than a centimetre away.

“Don’t get smart with me, jackass,” I growled viciously.

I stared him down for another few seconds, then released my grip on him and focused it on the stapes around my flank. He quickly pulled away with a cautious look on his face.

I wrenched on the straps with more aggression than was probably necessary. By the time I was free of them Cross Wings had shaken off his bewilderment and had his usual grin was back on his beak.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s just go meet with Camper.” He almost chuckled before turning to head to the front door.

It surprised me a bit that he was so quick to forget (or at least ignore) what had just happened.

He knocked twice before going straight in. I glance back at the two mares behind me by the wagon. Neither of them said a thing, only followed after him, trying not to meet my eye.

I took a deep breath and finally allowed myself to react to the amount of pain that my face was in.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” I growled as I touched a hoof to my muzzle to massage the pain away. When I looked at my hoof I noticed that there was, in fact, dirt on it (or at least more). I let out a deep breath and followed the others inside.



I hadn’t really been expecting much of the small building. Hell, it didn’t look like it was much more than a couple of brick shacks pushed together, but I was pleasantly surprised by just how roomy the place was.

In the front room, where we entered, there were three rows of shelves running across the length of the floor, and counters lining the walls, all holding various traveling supplies, types of ammunition, weapons, and armour.

There was a bit more than what we had in the wagon and most of it looked to be of a higher quality, meaning that this ‘Camper’ pony probably wasn’t going to be too keen on buying anything from us.

On the left side of the room was another door that opened as we made our way in. A dark brown earth pony with a thick, messy mane and beard, both grey as a result of age stepped out. On his flank was the image of a simple green tent shaped like a triangular prism.

“Gavin.” He exclaimed as he trotted over to Cross Wings.

“Camper, you still runnin’ this little crap-shack?” The griffon joked

“Good to see that mouth of yours still hasn’t gotten you killed.” The older stallion chuckled as he raised a hoof which was met with Cross Wings’ clenched fist.

“How’s Marcella and the kids doing?” My companion seemed to flinch slightly at this question. He quickly waved it off and changed the subject.

“Eh, we’ll talk about them later. Introductions first.” He gestured toward me.

“This is Vanish Strike, a kinda-sorta-not-really old friend.” I didn’t know if the ‘kinda-sorta-not-really’ was referring to the ‘old’ or the ‘friend’ in that statement, but I didn’t care enough to find out.

“Nice to meet you, lad. Name’s Wild Camper, but everypony just calls me Camper.” His voice was smooth and calm, almost even fatherly. He extended a hoof as a show of welcoming, which I took in my own and shook briefly.

“Same to you,” I said softly, not wanting to give this guy the impression that I would rob him the second his back was turned. I then remembered that my face was probably covered in dirt and had to suppress a grunt.

“You got a bathroom here?”



I could hear Cross Wings introducing our host to Blue and Caramel through the door, but the voices were so muffled that I could only make out names.

The bathroom was small, containing a somehow intact stall and a sink with a washcloth hanging on it and a dirty cracked sheet of reflective glass screwed to the wall above it.

I trotted over to them and twisted the left tap with my magic. There was a rather worrying rumbling noise coming from the pipes underneath the sink, but after a few seconds, the water began to pour out. Having confirmed that it worked, I turned it off and removed my coat.

I examined myself in the mirror and frowned. My face and purple and blue mane were covered with a considerable amount of dirt. Most of my dark bluish grey body had been protected by the tattered brown coat that was now on the floor, but that didn’t mean it was clean.

Patches of fur that had gone rigid from dried sweat, and there was a large splotch of dried blood surrounding a slightly pink spot of sink on my left side. I had almost forgotten about the nail bat.

The blood covered a chunk of my ribcage but didn’t reach down to hide my cutie mark; an imprint of the crosshairs of a rifle scope, shrouded in grey mist. I glanced at it once, then chose to distract myself by checking the coat for a similar stain.

Sure enough, there was an almost identical splotch on the left side around a small hole. I removed all the items from the pockets and filled the basin with slightly murky water.

‘Well, it’s not like I’m going to drink it.’

I dipped the bloody area of the fabric into the water and scrubbed at it with the cloth. Once all the blood was of the coat and in the water instead, I unplugged the drain and refilled the sink, this time for myself.

After about ten minutes I was as clean as I cared to be and shook my body to flick off any excess moister, then returned my gaze to my only piece of apparel (besides the armour that I had left in the wagon). The hole was small, but if I just left it there it would undoubtedly grow.

I levitated it up to my eye and focused my magic on it. The tiny fibres began to twitch and move closer together. Whenever two of them met they would entangle and sort of bond together. It was a slow and delicate process that took a full minute to complete, leaving the fabric completely intact.

It was a simple clothing repair spell that I had learned a few years back when I had grown tired of paying other ponies to do it for me.

I replaced all my stuff back into my pockets and put the brown duster back on, then strolled out of the door to join the others.



“Nice try, Gavin, but I know you too well to believe that this is all just salvage.” The smooth voice Wild Camper could be heard through the open front door as I mindlessly looked over the goods he had displayed.

“Would you believe scavenged from an ambushed slaver caravan?”

“…”

“Would you believe that Vanish did it?”

Camper chuckled. “That kid? Seriously?”

I sighed before calling out “Seriously” in a monotone. The conversation continued, but my interest died when I laid my eyes upon a thick yellow book with the words ‘the big book of advanced unicorn spells’ printed on the cover.

I picked up the textbook and gave a quick flip through. It seemed to be in good condition and I didn’t spot any missing pages. I turned to the contents page and scanned trough.

‘Transfiguration, teleportation, shields, transparency, illusions…’

“Hey, Camper, how much for the big yellow spellbook?” I shouted without taking my eyes off the page. The approaching hoof steps told me he was coming in.

“That old thing? Err, let’s say… fifty caps.”

“Thirty-five.”

“Forty.”

“Deal.”

He let out a triumphant laugh as I bought a pouch out from my coat. I counted out the caps and left them on the table in place of the book.

“Cross Wings.” His head appeared in the doorway. “Put this in my bag, would you. Front right corner of the wagon.” The book was sent flying towards his awaiting claw. He caught it perfectly and clicked his tongue before disappearing again.

Another chuckle drew my attention back to Camper.

“What?”

“It’s just that… well, you two have known each other for a few years, right?” I didn’t actually recall either of us telling him that, so I just gave a small nod.

“Then why do you still call him ‘Cross Wings’?”

It was true that the griffon outside did prefer to be called by his actual name, Gavin, by his friends and people he knew, but would always introduce himself to strangers as Cross Wings, a nickname he had earned in his early years (Celestia knows why). He hadn’t told me his real name until I had known him for almost a year, and even then it was only after I had saved his life for the second time.

I chewed on my cheek for a moment and came up with a simple answer.

“Habit, I suppose.” This response seemed to satisfy his curiosity.

“Alright then. If you need anything else just shout.” He mused as he trotted towards the door. Halfway there he stopped and turned his head back.

“Actually… you interested in making a few caps yourself? I’ve got a problem that you could help with.” My eyes narrowed. Normally when ponies hired me to help with their problems it involved murder, theft or extortion.

“About twenty minutes down the road to Nova there’s a group of giant ants that have made themselves a little burrow. Not very big ones, mind you, but they’re fast, there’s at least a half-dozen of the nasty buggers and the terrain is kind of rocky and jagged, so they can move around easily. You can probably guess how that affects the traffic and business around here.” I stared at him for a moment.

“…Twenty minutes down the road, not very big, at least six of them, rocky terrain, right?” He was rather taken aback by this but nodded all the same. I walked past him and headed out the door.

“W-wait, what about the price?”

“I’m going down that road tomorrow morning, so I might as well deal with them now,” I called back as I plucked my rifle from the wagon and two frag grenades from my bag and cantered off down the tattered old road.



Fifteen minutes later I lying atop a steep mound with a scope to my eye counting out how many giant ants there were; eight, four workers, three soldiers and one worrier, all huddled together in a small clearing between all the large rocks and other mounds about eighty-five meters away from my current vantage point.

The workers were barely the size of dogs and could easily just be stamped on. The soldiers weren’t much different, bigger but not by a lot, so likely not terribly stronger.

That worrier, however, gave me cause for concern. It was almost as big as me and pinchers the size of a griffons claws. I did not want to let that thing get close to me.

They were all crowded together (couldn’t tell why) meaning that I could probably take care of most of them with a grenade, but I wouldn’t be able to properly hit the mark when I was this far away. I needed to get closer to them.

‘Or get them closer to me.’ A devilish grin spread across my face. A loud bang and one of them dying would probably be enough to convince them to attack me.

These things weren’t very smart so they would likely just charge at me in a group without a second thought. When they got close enough I could just drop a grenade at the foot of the hill and jump off the other side.

I bought a grenade out from my coat and focused my attention back on the scope, training the crosshairs on the worrier’s head.

‘Three, two, on-‘

In almost perfect unison, all their heads shot and pointed in the direction to the right of the group.

They had heard something.

Literally two seconds later an orange pony in tattered rags wielding an assault rifle between his teeth leaped out from behind particularly large rock about thirty meters away from them and began firing at the group.

The worrier was the first to react and attempted to charge at their assailant, but was halted by three round to the face. Two of the workers and one soldier were also killed in the opening attack.

The four that were left all charged, but were quickly mowed down by the automatic weapon.

When he was sure that none of them were going to get back up, he walked forward, stepping over the smaller ants as he made his way to the large worrier. He dropped the rifle and from his ragged clothing produced a small blade of so kind (could have just been a sharp scrap of metal for all I knew).

I could only stare as he carved into the insect’s body and devoured whatever meat he pulled out.

From my current position I was facing his left side at a distance of almost a hundred meters, and since he was so occupied with his meal it was unlikely that he would spot me without looking straight at me, so, as long as I stayed still, I was safe.

I could get a fairly good look at the stallion through the scope. What I saw confused me. He was hungry - starving even - but not skinny or frail. He actually looked rather strong. He was tired and dirty, but there was no blood or signs of battle on him.

This guy was most likely running away from somepony.

If he had been running from some kind of immediate danger (like a monster or something) then he wouldn’t have stopped to eat. If he were a slave that had escaped his owner then he probably wouldn’t have had any idea how to use an assault rifle as well as he just did. No, he looked like more of a fighter than a servant.

My best guess was that he had been taken as a prisoner after some sort of conflict (probably an armed one) and had escaped and ran far enough away that he had the confidense to stop for food.

‘If he is a soldier, then who did he fight for? And who had captured him?’

He was an earth pony so I could instantly rule out the Enclave, the Talons and the Alicorns (obviously), so that left the Steel Rangers, the Band of Sin or some other group I didn’t know about.

I would be able to either confirm or disprove him being a member of Sin if he wasn’t wearing those rags. If I could see his full body I would see if he did or did not have one of their initiation brands.

‘I could just sneak away and take credit for this. No, if this guy’s an enemy I’ve got to deal with him now. I can’t risk Sin or someone else who hate me coming after us right now. I’ve got to find out who he-‘

Before my thought had even finished he reached up a hoof and tugged at his loose clothing so that the large neck hole revealed part of his chest. Along with the top half of a pink circler marking that looked to have been branded into his flesh.

BANG

He didn’t have time to react to the sound of the shot before the bullet passed through the one side and out the other.

He slumped down, blood spraying out of both holes and hit the ground with a meaty thud that I could hear from all the way over here.

That marking on his chest was the only incentive I needed to pull the trigger. I didn’t know which mark it was, but I didn’t need to. It proved to me that he was a member of the Band of Sin.

I slung the rifle over my shoulder, jumped off the mound and cantered over to the body.

I lifted the shirt over his head to expect the brand beneath his neck and grunted at what I saw.

A perfect circle about six centimetres in diameter with another circle on the bottom of the inside of it, this ones diameter only two centimetres.

This was the symbol for the branch of Sin known as Sloth. I had only ever had a couple of run-ins with this particular bunch, all of which ended in violence (as did all my encounters with Sin).

I examined the body further but didn’t find anything, which strengthened my confidence in the escaped prisoner theory. His gun wasn’t exactly of a very good quality and I had enough shit in that wagon to drag around, so I just left it next to him.

We were far away enough from the main road that I doubted anyone would find him without looking for him, and anypony who would do that would either assume that his escape attempt failed or would be glad he was dead, so it was probably safe for me to leave him there.

I stood up straight and turned back to the direction I had come from.

‘The wasteland’s full of corpses, what’s one more?’



To both my surprise and delight, Camper’s Trading Post actually did double up as a rest stop, meaning that it had beds and food for sale... and a big guard dog.

I have no idea how I missed the large, black and brown Pitbull the first time, but apparently ‘Sadie’ was the one and only form of protection that this place had or needed.

Although you’d never guess that if you saw her interact with Caramel. I hear the two of them playing some kind of game of their own creation before I had even arrived back at Camper’s place.

The sight would bring a smile to the face of a pony who hadn’t just killed someone. Blue Lagoon, however, was gazing wistfully at the scene from the doorway with her lips curled into a warm smile.

“I suppose a dog makes for a pretty good distraction… perhaps you ought to join in.” I remarked after learning what was happening, then trotted past her into the building.

“Ah, the exterminator returns.” Mused the Griffon that was slumped over a mattress as I entered the sleeping area. I only huffed in response.

“That go alright for ya?” Asked Camper from a rather ragged looking armchair in one corner.

I nodded once and sat down on the bed opposite Cross Wings.

“Terrific, what do I owe you?”

“Didn’t I say I don’t want your money?”

“No, you said that you were gonna have to deal with them anyway, never said you wouldn’t accept payment, and I pay my debts. So, again, what do I owe you?”

I was about to continue my protest when a thought struck me.

“… Okay then, give me a bit of information.” He raised an eyebrow at this.

“What information?”

“Tell me the kind of traffic comes through here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, mercenaries, travellers, merchants, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, right, well… in terms of mercenaries, most of what we get around here work for the Talons company. I’ve seen a few Steel Rangers come through, but they never buy anything. As for travellers and merchants, well, pretty much the same as what you lot are; just a few ponies with a wagon filled with stuff. Not much else to it, really.”

I frowned and drew out a cigarette.

“Well, what about the Band of Sin? Anything on them?” I pushed as I lit the paper stick. He snorted as if the name itself disgusted his.

“Those assholes? Nothing from them for the last six months. Used to occasionally hear some chatter about them being in the area, but I’ve always been closed whenever they’re around.” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

“How come they’ve never just broken the door down and taken whatever they wanted?”

A somewhat malicious grin appeared on his muzzle.

“Oh, they’ve tried.” I faltered slightly at this and stared him dead in the eye. There were a few seconds of nothing before the room filled with bemused laughter.

“You’ve held your own against Sin? Seriously? You and that dog?”

“Hey, I’m not so old that I can’t handle myself. And it’s not always just me and Sadie, my sons around most of the time and he can defiantly handle himself.”

“Oh yeah, where is Hatchet? He still kickin’?” Asked Cross Wings.

“Ah, he’s fine. He went down to Hollow Shades to visit his aunt and uncle. Should be back day after tomorrow.”

“You have a son?”

“What, you thought I ran this place by myself? He’s a strong lad with a good heart. About your age… I think. How old are you?”

“Twenty-three… roughly.” Cross Wings’ head jolted up.

“Wait, you’re twenty-three?” I nodded slowly, a bit confused. ‘Didn’t I already tell him that?’

“We met four years ago, so you were nineteen, right?”

“Probably closer to eighteen… but, like I said, roughly.”

“So you’re telling me that my drunken ass got saved by a kid barely old enough to grow his first chin beard?”

There was a moment of tense silence before Camper burst out laughing.

“O=okay,” He said, trying to compose himself “this story I gotta hear.” I glance over to the griffon, who huffed and looked away.

“You tell him.”

I shrugged “If you insist.” then turned back to an eagerly awaiting Camper.

“So, it happened in a bar in Friendship City – a bar neither of us are allowed back into anymore…”



About three and a half hours of stories, drinks and smoking later night had come and everyone in the building was fast asleep. Everyone except me, of course.

I was upright in bed using a weak illumination spell to read the fat book that was perched on my lap.

‘When performing a teleportation spell, it is advised to choose a location that the caster can actually see, so as to avoid accidentally teleporting in a place that is already occupied by an inanimate object, or worse, another pony. Failing that, the caster should know exactly what the area looks like and be able to visualize it in order to accurately pinpoint the location. It is also important to-’ 

My attention was captured by the sudden movement in the corner of my eye.

It was the dog, Sadie, who had been curled up on a large pillow next to Caramel’s bed. From the way her head jutted up and immediately pointed to the door I could guess that she had heard something.

“Something up, girl?” I whispered as I set down the book and crept out of bed. The dog was already to her feet and scraping at the front door by the time my hooves were all on the ground.

‘Something’s outside? Could be thieves going through the wagon, a couple of mole rats creeping around… or it could be Sin looking for whoever killed their friend.’

The rifle that had been on the floor by my bed instantly shot up to my side. I didn’t exactly want to have to shoot anypony here, as it would likely make Camper a target, but I would kill whoever was out there if I needed to.

I silently dashed to the nearest window and peaked out.

There were three ponies outside, two earth pony stallions and a unicorn mare (whose horn was glowing bright enough for me to be able to tell). All of them were armed with carbine rifles and wearing black spiky metal armour with red under clothes.

The thing about these guys that stood out the most were their helmets; they covered everything but the ears, had small red horns jutting out from the forehead and thin slits for eye holes that seemed to glow green.

One thing was clear, at least; they weren’t Sin, Steel Rangers, Enclave or anypony else that I knew hated me.

Sadie was now growling at the door, but not loud enough to wake the others. If I didn’t open it, she was gonna start barking, and everyone awake to greet these newcomers was not something that would end well.

“Calm down, girl. It’s all fine.” I whispered, placing a hoof on the back of her neck.

This seemed to relax her to where I felt like I could open the door without accidentally setting a rabid dog on these ponies.

“Go back to bed, shoo.” I hushed whilst ushering her away with a hoof.

I took a deep breath, opened the door and trotted out.



The night air was a gentle breeze and was just about cold enough against my uncovered body to send a shiver through my muscles as I approached the newcomers

They didn’t have any kind of dramatic reaction to my approach. They just slowly turned and faced me.

We stared each other down for a few seconds before the mare of the group spoke up.

“Are you Camper?” I had to stifle a groan. ‘Why would you print your name on a sign outside your house?’

“No, I’m just spending the night here. Who are you?”

“…”

“…”

“About a mile down the road leading east, there lies the dead body of a member of the Sloth Branch of the Band of Sin. He was killed less he six hours ago by a shot to the head. Might you know anything about this incident?”

I almost completely shut down right then and there. Somehow managing to contain my nerves, I gave a response that can only be described as gutsy.

“My Question first. Who are you?”

The mere seconds of silence were somehow more tantalizing than anything else. I couldn’t see any of their faces, so normally I would rely on what they said, the tone of their voice or even their slightest movement to be able to figure out how to play it.

Unfortunately, these ponies were not only dead still, but even more reclusive than me, which is way what came next was a surprise to me.

“We’re scouts of the Legion, sent to recover an escaped prisoner and prevent him from giving away any secrets he may have known, by any mean.”

I blinked twice. ‘The Legion? I’ve never heard of any group called the Legion.’

“His death was paramount to our mission. How it happened was not. Knowing exactly how he died isn’t vital, but it would be welcome information. Therefore, I’m only asking once and then leaving regardless of the answer.”

I continued staring but soften a little. This mare didn’t exactly strike me as good company, but she seemed to be telling the truth.

After a moment of nothing, I exhaled in defeat.

“Well, you’ve found the course of death. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.” I grumbled as I turned back the door.

I was about to open it when I was halted by another question in the mare’s sharp voice.

“What’s your name?”

I couldn’t tell them my real name. If it turns out that I did know this group and they did want me dead I probably wouldn’t ever leave Camper’s place. But even if I didn’t, it would be dangerous to even be associated with them (they seemed like the type to have more enemies than anything else).

“Smoke Shot.” It was a believable enough alias. It had worked before and they could clearly see my cutie mark, which involved both smoke and shooting, so it sort of fit.

“The Legion owes you a debt. Should you ever find yourself in our presence, you shall be met with further gratitude.”

With those final words, the sound of hoof steps began to lead my ears away into the distance.

I had to suppress the urge to swear as I re-enter the building.

‘This is gonna come back to bite me!’



“Ahh, fucking hell!” I grunted as I tossed the empty cigarette box to the side.

“Cross Wings, if we don’t get there in the next hour, I’m going smash something through one of these houses, and I don’t care what it is.” I heard a loud gulp to my left, followed by a nervous chuckle.

“Don’t worry. I know my way through these ruins, we’ll be home in less than twenty minutes.”

The ruins he was talking about was the hollow remains of what I assumed to have once been a large town that we had just entered (no idea what its name was).

This area was far more decapitated than the rest of it. The buildings were little more than stacks of bricks and the roads were so littered with rubble that they were barely distinct from any other part of the ground.

The rest of the place – which was actually kind of inhabitable – was completely walled off to keep out… well, everything.

I, myself, had been to the city many times over the years but had never stayed for more than a weeks or so at a time. Not that I wasn’t welcome to stay, I just didn’t like being stationary for too long (a habit I picked up from several bad childhood experiences).

I then realized that Cross Wings had referred to the city as ‘home’. Didn’t his family live in what was left of the Griffon homeland? And when Camper had asked how they were doing he had avoided answering and had looked to me when he had done it.

‘…oh, that son of a bitch.’

My jaw tightened, but I gave no other visible reaction as I tried to figure out exactly what to do about this.

If I pretended that he had fooled me, he would likely hold this over my head for a good few weeks, so my only real option was to let it slip that I knew at some point before he told me.

But when exactly did he intend to tell me? Did he intend to tell me at all? I had never met any of his family, so it wasn’t as if I’d recognize any of them. Then again, there weren’t many Griffons in Nova to begin with, so I might have been able to pick them out of a crowd.

Now that I thought about, Nova wasn’t exactly a very diverse city, and I had to assume that there was some prejudice for the higher-ups involved in that.

It had never really made any sense to me way some people exclude or dislike other people just because of their species. As far as I was concerned, we were all trapped in the same hell and all that mattered was how we get out of it, and it seemed like hating each other was what got us here in the first place.

Well, hatred may have played an essential role in the destruction of the old world, but it really boiled down to greed, a vice that continued to grip this land long after its death. It was really quite-

“Yo, Strike.”

My train of thought was derailed by a set of claws waving in from of my face.

“Huh?”

“We, err, we’re here.”

I finally regained my special awareness and noticed the ten-foot-high wall before us and the large sliding door with two guards stood either side dead ahead.

“Well, look who’s back. Nice time out there, Vanish?” Mused the earth pony guard on the left side of the door.

His gruff, deep voice blended rather well with the black security and helmet he wore and the shotgun at his side to make an intimidating raider repellent.

“Can it, Stone,” I grumbled as I magically reached into my left pocket and produced a small, quarter full sack, which I then tossed to his waiting hoof.

“Fifty caps, don’t tell the mayor I’m here.”

“You know she’s gonna find out on her own, right?” I had to stifle a smirk.

“Yeah, but by then, it wouldn’t matter.” He simply shrugged.

“Alright, mate. It’s your money.”

He turned and banged twice on the sheet of metal on wheels they called a door with the butt of his gun, then shouted for whoever was on the other side to open up.

Twenty seconds of loud, metallic sounds later, the door was fully open.

“Okay then,” Stone Head announced as he turned back to face us.

“Welcome to Nova City.”





Footnote: Level up

Perk added: Trigger-Happy - the first shot one a non-hostile or unaware enemy does double damage